#I have to clear my table for some good photography.

[ghosttrolls]

I'm really really exhausted but would anyone like me to make a tutorial on how to make an origami frog. It's the easiest origami to make imo, you don't even use square paper so it's super easy to just grab whatever paper you might have to make one

#ghostly posts #I learned in 3rd grade because it was a project for leap year #and I never forgot #the card of the day really had me thinking about them again #I have to clear my table for some good photography.

[hannie-dul-set]

LOVE VOMIT [n.] — the term when you become too full with your feelings too quickly and too frequently that you end up spitting everything out before even getting the chance to digest. this happens to you more often than you’d like to admit— every quarter, actually, ever since starting college. but what can you do when the prospect of falling in love is just too good to say no to? what can you do when maybe the next desert might actually stay inside your system this time?

or, wherein you fall in love with a different guy every season but fail to notice the one that’s been looking at you the whole year.

PAIRING. choi soobin x female! reader (ft. the rest of txt x reader). GENRE. college! au, orgmate! soobin, strangers to friends to lovers, slice of life, romance, humor, mild angst, comfort (no hurt), SLOWBURN, featuring some members of seventeen, enhypen, and le sserafim. WARNINGS. reader is shorter than soobin, swearing, drinking, kissing, unrequited feelings, annoying org jargon. WORD COUNT. 36k. TAGLIST. @stellz581​ @michipan​ @goldennika​​ @taekwondoes​​ @cerealdreamwriter​​

NOTE. this fic is a five-in-one but it’s obvious endgame is (hint: look at the header). thoroughly enjoyed projecting all my past crushes into my dear tubatu boys haha i hope no one i know personally reads this haha.

some of the scenes were lifted from my own personal experiences HUAHAH have fun guessing which ones are real (but embellished) and made up for the sake of the story 😎. anyhow, this is long. this is slow. but i do hope the payoff at the end is worth watching soobin’s year long suffering when he finally gets the girl 😭 hope to hear your thoughts on this. enjoy!

reposted because tumblr is an ass.

THE TIME IS SPRING. A soft musk in the air, freshly bloomed flowers lining the sidewalks, and the start of a new semester. There’s something gentle about springtime, reminiscent of crisp blankets straight from the dryer with lavender seeping into its cotton folds, and sunlight leaking through pleated sheer curtains. The season is for cherry blossoms and picnic baskets, outings and first loves. You’ve always associated these things with spring, however none of these sensibilities are present tonight.

Instead of clear skies and bright sunlight, the view through the diner windows is lit up by artificial lights and signages in the middle of a March evening. There’s no lilac nor daisies in the air, but cheap beer and the savory smell of fried chicken. It’s noisy, it’s loud, and it’s far from the gentleness of spring, but you’ve never felt more alive at this time of the year.

‘Why did you join Shutter.TXT?’ reads the sheet of paper sitting on your table. You’re all smiles as you listen to the answers of those sitting around you, mindlessly nodding along after being three glasses in. Tonight is an orientation-slash-welcome party for the organization you impulsively joined upon entering the university.

Because photography is my passion...because I want to explore other fields…because, because, because.

The answers carousel around the table, and honest to god, you stopped listening at some point because it’s getting repetitive. You don’t understand the purpose of this activity. Why else would you join a club for photography, videography, and editing if not for photography, videography, and editing?

“Are you kids having fun?”

You perk up. The empty smiles you’ve been giving become brighter, eyes crinkling at the corners. Spring came belatedly tonight, and it came in the form of your extremely pretty senior appearing behind your seat, and you’re instantly all the more conscious about your posture when he leans down to check in on your table. He cranes his head to look at you with a smile. “Is it your turn?” he asks. The back of your neck is burning.

“Ah, yes,” you cough, clearing your throat to introduce your name. “I major in public administration. I know it’s pretty far from my discipline, but I decided to join Shutter.TXT because I didn’t want to be constrained in one field throughout college. I’m sure this organization will make my university experience a lot more exciting and interesting.”

Lies. You joined because of the very face that’s smiling at you this very moment.

“I look forward to working with you.”

He leaves a pat on your shoulder before moving on to the table next to yours. You feel like passing out.

The first time you saw Choi Beomgyu was during the organization festival after the freshmen orientation. You left the auditorium and made your way to the courtyard, taking a peek at the orgs and clubs your university was offering. The moment your eyes caught him advertising the newly founded organization right by the entrance, you didn’t need to consider the rest of the booths and signed up your name. You didn’t even know the name of the organization back then, only finding out after you received an email confirming your registration. Lucky enough for you, you have some editing experience, so you don’t have to risk making a fool out of yourself.

But it seems like you aren’t the only one with the same ulterior motives. Your eyes naturally followed your senior as he switched to the next table. “I’m only here because of you, seonbae,” you hear from one of them, and Beomgyu only laughs in response before moving on to the next group.

You mask your bitter expression by taking a chug from your glass. You need to work harder. Before even being a potential love interest to your evidently popular flower boy upperclassman, you need to become an indispensable member to Shutter in order to— at the very fucking least— have him remember your name. The elections for officers are next week and you’ll try your darndest to grab a position. Preferably, one that’ll make you work closely with Beomgyu.

“Um, hello.”

Your attention is snagged by the person sitting in front of you. Admittedly, you haven’t been paying any mind to the rest of the newly recruited members, eyes always gravitating toward Beomgyu and his tendency to jump from table to table, corner to corner, so you’ve haven’t noticed that the boy sitting in front of you is also pretty good looking. His face reminds you of a bunny— soft features all around with dark bangs falling just above his eyes. He’s wearing a pink cardigan with shoulders tightly squeezed against his torso as if he’s trying to shrink his gigantic frame but miserably failing.

In other words, another pretty boy. But your eyes are set on a different pretty boy, so your heart isn’t stirred completely.

“My name is Choi Soobin. I’m a second year computer science student. Photo, video, and graphics editing has been my hobby since high school,” he introduces with a tiny smile before following it up with an even tinier bow. “It’s nice to meet all of you!”

Then your tables are reshuffled and you don’t see him again for the rest of the night.

You leave the restaurant after a few more table shuffles to get some fresh air. You’re already starting to get tipsy, getting a hit straight in the liver of how college get togethers are going to be in future. The night is cold with only a cardigan to keep you warm. Maybe you should’ve chosen something thicker since it’s still early in the season, but this is the cutest outfit in your closet and you were dead set on making a good impression.

“It’s getting pretty stuffy inside, isn’t it?”

Apparently, you aren’t the only one who decided to sneak out into the alley beside the fried chicken place the org rented. You turn around, arms crossed together for more warmth, and see a girl approaching your hiding spot. “Sorry. I’m not intruding, am I?”

“Not at all,” you smile at her. “I don’t think we ever shared a table earlier, right?”

She shakes her head. “I’m Kim Yura. Freshman.”

“Hey, me too!” You proceed to introduce yourself, and the both of you hit off almost immediately. You exchanged majors, numbers, and mindless small talk including your shared misfortune of having zero friends in college so far.

“Holy crap, you don’t know how glad I am to have run into you like this. I joined Shutter on a whim and knew literally zero people in there and I was too nervous to socialize with so many people,” Yura confesses with a sigh, leaning against the same concrete wall as you. She turns her head to look at you. “Before I left, they were talking about going for round two at The Rooftop. Are you gonna join?”

“I think I’ll pass.” You wouldn’t have made an escape if you weren’t tired. Your social battery is depleting by the second, and Yura is the only person you know so far.

“I heard the seniors will be paying. Mingyu seonbae, Beomgyu seonbae, Jina seon—”

“On second thought, let’s go!” You grab Yura’s wrist and march back into the restaurant with a new burst of energy. There’s no harm in socializing more. You need to put yourself out there anyway if you want to be elected to a position. Strike while the iron is hot, as they say— while you’re still in the early stages of your first year in university and deadlines, paperworks, and assignments haven’t body slammed you into the dirt yet.

It’s the beginning of spring. the season for starting fresh and starting anew. You chose to begin your life in college by searching for a romance you’ve never had the chance to experience in highschool. And romance doesn’t happen if you just sit and wait around all day.

You’re going to chase it, and it begins with going to a cheap rooftop bar in the middle of Seoul and drinking a few too many drinks for you to handle.

Okay. Maybe that wasn’t the smartest idea considering you woke up in your apartment with no recollection of how you got home, save for a message from Yura to text her once you’ve woken up, but at least you managed to collect some numbers and friend requests from a handful of other orgmates while your social skills were tampered by alcohol. Those numbers included Beomgyu’s. You dare call this a success.

Still, org life is secondary to academics no matter how much more fun it is over the latter. The only thing you receive from the Shutter group chat is a good luck message for the first week of classes and some idle conversations here and there. You’re on the way to your first class after telling Kim Mingyu, the organization’s founder, to eat shit and choke on his lunch.

“Morning.” You look up from your iPad to see Kang Taehyun take the seat next to your seat in the lecture hall. You’ve met him at the orientation, and honest to god he intimidated you then. He was the guy that kept asking questions to the moderator about anything and everything. He still intimidates you, but you’re determined to not be a friendless loser throughout the four years of your bachelor’s degree, so you greet him back.

“I asked some seniors if they can share their notes for our Intro class,” you mention. “I can send it to the group chat later once I organize them.”

“Really?” he says. “Are you close with any of our seniors? I would’ve done the same if I knew at least one of them.”

“No,” you grin. “Survival over shame. But I think I already have a pre-positioned target on my back even before the welcome party.”

Taehyun shakes his head with a laugh, and you oddly feel proud of yourself. “I’ll have your back, don’t worry.”

Some of your other classmates overhear the conversation. You grace your blessings upon them as well and a small group begins to form in the middle of the lecture hall right before your professor walks in to take attendance. You spend the class diligently taking notes because although you might be a little lovestruck and heart-eyes for a certain person from the building next to yours, you’re not revolving your entire life around him. Sort of. You’re going to pass by the club room later in case he’s there.

He’s not. It’s just Mingyu and your short-term beef with him for taking unflattering photos of your hammered ass last Friday. You don’t hide your disappointment when you see him. He calls you over to take a seat next to him in front of the computer.

“You’re good at graphic design, right?”

“I have experience.” You pull out a chair and take a look at the monitor. SHUTTER.TXT ELECTIONS. This Thursday at Mirage Building Room 104, 4:00 p.m. Be there or be square.

You shoot Mingyu a look of judgment. “What?”

“You should stick to camerawork, boss. Move your ass.”

He swivels away and you take over the mouse and keyboard, doing your best to fix the layout of the publication material. “Can first-years be elected?”

“Why?” he’s playing with the strings of his hoodie. Sometimes you forget that he’s your org’s founder. “You eyeing a position?”

Yes. Next to Choi Beomgyu. “Maybe?”

Mingyu grins. “I’ve got you. Don’t worry. I’m so happy to have such a dedicated member to exploit and work wageless. Thank you so much in advance for your service.”

You have nothing to thank Kim Mingyu for because although he did nominate you on the day of the elections which secured your spot, you were elected as Assistant Layout Director. Beomgyu is currently making a dumb thank you speech in front of the lecture hall for being the Videography Director and everyone is cheering. You’re moping in your seat until all of the newly elected officers are called to the front for a picture taking.

“Please stand in the order of your positions! Alright, perfect!”

Click!

The amount of times you’ve been blocked today is harrowing. You’re wearing a smile, holding out a thumbs up while posing for a picture, but you want to throw a tantrum. There’s a giant body standing in between you and Beomgyu. Your tears are internal and eternal.

“Three more!”

Suddenly, you feel a hand on your shoulder, and your feet are moving by themselves. Rather, someone is moving you. You look up to see the bunny boy you shared a table with last orientation, now on your right when you swear he was just on your left earlier, in between you and Beomgyu. Wait a minute, you realize. You’re so touched you could cry, but someone from the front yells your name.

“Stop looking at Soobin and look at the camera!”

It’s followed by the eruption of insinuating noises from the rest of your orgmates, and your face grows hot from embarrassment. You don’t acknowledge their teasing, save for a middle finger directed at Shutter’s Founder-slash-newly-elected-Chairperson, then you collect your composure, strike a cute peace sign for the camera, and try your best to make it not so obvious that you’re thrilled to at the very least be standing next to Beomgyu for the photos.

“Alright! Thank you, everyone!”

The lecture hall breaks into claps and conversation as you all scatter around after the picture taking. You scan the crowd for the mop of black hair that did you a favor earlier, belatedly remember that he’s the Layout Director and your direct superior. You spot him with Mingyu, looking mildly terrorized at the older male’s affection. When Mingyu sees you approaching them, you can see the heinous intent in his smile when he greets you. “Oh, you’re here.”

“Congrats, Chair,” you declare blankly, then brighten your smile when you look at Soobin. “Congrats to you too, director! I will do my best to assist you.”

He receives your outstretched hand with a shake and bows politely. Mingyu clicks his tongue at your exchange. “Ey, how can you make your preference so obvious?” He’s very obviously referring to you, extending the teasing from earlier, and you wear the most threatening look on your face that you can manage while still holding hands with your innocently smiling colleague. You’re dead if you keep that up, you try to signal with your eyes. Mingyu only gives you a wink and walks away with a pat on Soobin’s shoulder. If Beomgyu gets the wrong idea from their teasing and closes off all your chances with him, you’re going to kill Kim Mingyu first.

“I’m sorry. Mingyu hyung likes to mess around a lot.” You turn your attention back to Soobin, heart clenching. Poor boy doesn’t need to apologize on behalf of his demonic senior. You shake your head and tell him it’s fine,

“Officers, please stay for a quick meeting! The rest may leave. Thank you all for attending!”

You give Soobin a quick smile before running off to where the rest are gathering, bumping into Yura whom you gave a quick hug. She was also elected. Program management committee member. You both stand next to each other as you listen to Mingyu’s announcements. There will be an orientation for officers this weekend and then you’d have to start planning and organizing for Shutter’s first major event— an acquaintance party slash mini workshop of sorts. One of the officers asks “didn’t we already have a welcome party the other week?” Mingyu defends by saying there’s no harm in getting all the members to bond together as often as we could. You’re sure he’s just looking for an excuse to party, but you’re not complaining.

“See you all at the org office this Saturday. Get home safe!”

“We’re going to COEX. Jake and Yunjin brought their car. You’re coming with us.”

Your shoulders slump, and your heavy bag drops to the floor. You give your friends an incredulous look. “I have a meeting. You guys said you were too lazy to eat out yesterday, but now you all have the energy when I have a fucking meeting.”

Taehyun tells you better luck next time before slamming the passenger’s seat right in front of your face. Sunghoon gives you a pat on the head before following inside. Kazuha promises to get you takeout and stop by your club office later. Though you’re thankful that you managed to find a group of friends from your year and major, moments like these make you want to eat sand.

“Be honest. You can totally skip the meeting but you’re flaking out on us because you want to see your crush.” Jay earns a kick on his ass before he retreats into Yunjin’s car. You wave them goodbye and dust off your bag, slinging it over your shoulder again and make your way to the office.

“You’re here!”

When you open the door, Beomgyu greets you with a smile. There’s a camera dangling on his neck and he’s carrying a tripod bag across his torso. You feel your mood instantly shooting up, like a flower bed is growing inside your ribcage with how ticklish you feel in your chest. Jay was right. You actually have nothing important to do today besides errands, probably. God, you’re down bad.

“Perfect timing! Can you come with me for a sec?” Your head automatically nods like you’re stupid, but you don’t mind the fact that you look stupid because Beomgyu beams, and you’re happy if he’s happy. He wants to take you somewhere and you’re buzzing in your shoes at the mere thought of it. Flaking on your friends is the best decision you’ve made today and Jay can suck on his left toenail.

“Soobin hyung! I need you, too. You can continue working later.”

You hear a whine from inside the room. Soobin shows up beside Beomgyu with a scrunched up look of annoyance, which immediately gets replaced with surprise when he spots you by the doorway. He gives you a flustered bow and greeting, promptly adjusting the black-rimmed glasses resting on his nose.

“Mingyu hyung says we need to present an introduction video for the executive board for the event next week. I’m doing it by position and you two are next on my list. Let’s find a good place to shoot for the both of you.”

Oh. You press your lips into a smile, nodding. “I think the gazebo near the Communications building would be great.”

“Perfect. Let’s go!”

You’re the dumbass for jumping into conclusions and thinking that Beomgyu would have a reason for the both of you to be alone together. You’re walking across the campus with your crush and the guy your Chairperson is teasing you with. Maybe you should have just gone along with your friends. You heard a fried ice cream store opened at COEX the other day. The cold desert on your tongue would’ve immediately cured your embarrassment and shame.

“I’ll get your solo shots first. Soobinie hyung, give me a cute pose.”

You watch the two boys bicker while they shoot the video clips. You remember that Beomgyu is majoring in EMC, so they must be close since they come from the same department. “Hyung, look this way.” Soobin seems to follow Beomgyu’s direction despite his grumbling.

It’s easy to get lost in thought while watching Beomgyu in his element. The camera isn’t focused on him, but you still feel like he's the focal point of the frame captured by your field of vision. There are flowering trees all around the surrounding areas of the gazebo, and the white petals falling from above dance around him.

He’s really so pretty. So pretty and dreamy but evidently unattainable.

“Be back in a sec. Good job, hyung! You can sit down now.”

Beomgyu runs off to greet some of his friends that have just passed by. You watch as he’s laughing along with them, an unreasonable feeling of disappointment forming in the pits of your stomach. He’s always got people around him— org members, friends, and people you don’t know. It’s impossible to squeeze yourself into the picture when the frame is already full.

“Do you want to work with him instead?”

“Huh?” You look up to see Soobin towering over your pathetic frame on the bench. He takes a seat beside you, but takes a moment before changing his mind and adding more distance between the both of you with an awkward cough.

“Beomgyu,” he adds. “You’re probably disappointed that you weren’t elected as his assistant instead, right?”

You look at him, horrified.

“Haha, what do you mean?”

Sure, you haven’t been the most discreet with your heart-eyes for the guy, but you don’t think you’re that transparent. You want to question him further— what makes you say that? Have I been really fucking obvious?— but then your palms become sweaty, and you remember he switched places with you the other day and that’s how you managed to stand next to your crush for the photo. He knows. He definitely knows you have a crush on his friend and there’s a chance that he might fucking expose you.

Before you can get on your knees, beg him to shut his mouth and spare your rejection, Beomgyu returns and tells you to head on up to the gazebo.

“I also called the rest of the guys so we can finish everything in one go,” he says while adjusting the camera on the tripod.

You’re nervous, Self conscious to have such a pretty man judge your level of photogenic-ness. Thankfully, Beomgyu is kind enough to give you directions sweetly along with expressions of encouragement. When you’re done with your solos, he tells Soobin to join you.

The discomfort on your expression is evident because Beomgyu drops the camera, revealing the dissatisfied pout on his face. “Can you two move a little closer?” You do, albeit robotically. Soobin is kind enough to stop nudging himself closer right before your shoulders could bump into one another. Beomgyu still isn’t satisfied. “Can you two…please act natural?”

How are you supposed to act natural when you’re about to shit your pants from discomfort? You look up at Soobin and he’s clearly as uncomfortable as you are. You can see the sweat droplets trickling down his neck, throat bobbing after a tense swallow. He’s hesitant to even lay a hand on you, lagging midair above your shoulder like a nervous raincloud. Your eyes gloss over his face. He drops his hand and gives you a hesitant smile. You’ve never noticed he has dimples until now.

“Please— please excuse me.”

Suddenly, you feel an added weight on your shoulders, and you stumble forward. Your face bumps into his chest. Your eyes widen in alarm. You can hear something loud thumping in your ears.

“Better! That’s great—”

Oh. It’s just your heartbeat.

“—perfect!”

Shit. Oh no. This doesn’t make sense. You have a crush on Beomgyu so it doesn’t make sense that your heart is beating like crazy for somebody else— not to mention someone who knows you like Beomgyu. It feels like the thumping just grows louder and louder and you’re feeling dizzy. You’re sure you would’ve fallen into the wooden flooring of the gazebo if Soobin isn’t keeping you steady right now. Then, from your peripheral, you can see some of your orgmates nearing the area, so you quickly move away without a second thought.

“Did we get enough shots?” you yell out for Beomgyu to hear.

“Yup! You both look great!”

Immediately, you patter off, hopping down the elevated surface and into the fresh soil. You exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding with a hard pat on your chest. Keep it together, you scold yourself. Amongst those who just arrived is Yura, who immediately brings joy to your face when you see her. You pick up your pace to go greet her, but you slowly come to a halt when you notice her attention is deeply engaged elsewhere.

When you trace her line of vision, you spot her looking at Beomgyu and Soobin. When Beomgyu walks away to greet the other, her eyes are still stuck on the same spot, a faint tinge of pink coloring her cheekbones, and she jogs into the direction where she’s been looking at.

Your chest loosens in relief. You swivel your feet, moving towards Beomgyu who jogs up to you upon notice. “Do you want to see?” he asks, and you nod in response.

Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed because embarrassment strikes you hard in the gut that you sink to the ground at the first three seconds of the first clip he shows you. “Oh my god,” you cover your face, squatting on the grass. “Stop. Okay. Nevermind, I don’t want to see anymore.”

“Why not? You look pretty in all of them.”

The inhale you take gets caught in your throat and you nearly choke on nothing. Your palms start to grow warm from the heat emanating off your face. Holy shit. “Don’t— don’t do that.”

You hear him laugh. “It’s true though.”

Peeking through your fingers, you see him in the same squatting position right before your eyes, and you groan to hide yourself again. Even though your system is about to explode with the amount of ticklish flowers sprouting, you can’t help but feel relieved. Yes. This is how it should be. What happened earlier was only the heat of the moment and your heart was just carried away by the scene. You also have a feeling that Yura has a crush on, or is at the very least interested in Soobin, so you can bury that possibility in the soil immediately. You’ll scatter some seeds over it and hope that the daisies can be enough to mask its shame.

Your name is called by Beomgyu, and you begrudgingly force yourself to get up. Beomgyu lends you a hand. “Myungho hyung is getting us drinks from the vending machine. What would you like?”

“Um. Sprite, please.”

“Hyung! Get us two Sprites. Thanks!”

Your fingertips are still buzzing from when he pulled you up by the hand. You stretch out your joints then ball them into a tight fist, throwing your head back with a sigh. Ice cream sounds really good right now. You text Jake if they’re still at the mall and if he can pick you up in ten minutes. He says he’s on the way.

“Choi Beomgyu is out of my league, isn’t he?”

You receive a chorus of yeses from your beloved friends. It’s the day of the event and you squeezed in lunchtime at McDonald’s before heading to the venue to make it up to them. You’ve been busy the whole week with Shutter preparing for it and throughout those seven days, the times you’ve managed to talk or interact with Beomgyu at all is less than two digits.

“It’s not that you’re too ugly for him,” Sunghoon gives his unsolicited opinion, waving a single french fry in the air before throwing it into his mouth. “He just has a vibe, you know? That sort of untouchable vibe you feel from typically popular people. We’re IG mutuals and he gets a million anonymous confessions a day. You’re better off looking for someone else.”

“Jay is also good looking, aren’t you into him?” suggests Taehyun, and you offer him a grimace in response. Jay doesn’t hesitate to preview his own disgust. “Then again. That’d be incest.”

“If you want to get over him, it’s best to stop seeing him.”

“But she has to attend their event later,” says Kazuha in response to Yunjin’s advice. They all offer you a moment of silence in grief. You completely lose your appetite.

“I’m off. Mingyu told me to come early to help with any last minute preparations.”

“Where’s the thing?” Jake asks as you pick up your bag. “I can give you a ride home later, if you’d like.”

“Perriot Bowl. And it’s fine. I’m sure we’ll be finishing late so you don’t have to bother.”

“Call me if you change your mind.”

You give him a smile and excuse yourself out. It’s one bus ride to Perriot Bowl, and you don’t remember which one of the idiots thought that a bowling alley would be the best place to hold an acquaintance party. Your org is new, so it has zero funds, therefore you all had to pull money out of your pockets to rent the place and pay for other expenses.

At least everyone seems to be enjoying, you think as you sip on your plastic cup filled with coke, the venue’s shiny floors slowly being matted away by dozens and dozens of bodies. The large, overhead lights are shut off as per Myungho’s request, and the only things illuminating the bowling alley are the neon wall washers and LED strips lining the lanes in pink, purple, and blue. There’s vibrant music playing through the speakers. Your eyes land on Beomgyu helping Soobin set up the technicals.

“Ah, ah, ah. Testing, testing.”

The area hushes, and all eyes are on your chairperson standing in front of a projector screen. He breaks into a smile. “Ah, wait. Why am I suddenly nervous?”

You snort. He gets over it quickly and starts his opening spiel, welcoming the members and giving a rundown of today’s activities, starting with the introduction of officers in which you hid behind Yura in embarrassment when your face appeared through the projector screen— mainly because of Mingyu’s hollering. Somehow, you have unintentionally wiggled into your chairperson’s favor by bullying and swearing at him every time you cross paths. That shaves a lot of effort off your goal of being an integral org member.

“Feel free to drop by the snack table at the back, but before everyone can freely play some games on the lanes, let’s start with our prepared activities first!”

That’s your signal to move to the front, taking the red bandana laid down on the table near Mingyu and standing next to Soobin. You look up at him and muster a smile. “Just so you know, I’m pretty competitive.”

Soobin laughs. “I don’t like losing, either.”

Frankly, you’ve been weary about him for a while, but throughout the past week of preparing for today’s event, he hasn’t shown a hint of snitching on you, so you managed to be less tense around him. The both of you are also stuck together for the rest of your term, so it won’t help if you’re always going to be uncomfortable around him.

You give him a smile, and he returns the same expression. It also helps that Choi Soobin is very easy on the eyes.

“Please check the color of your name tags and form a line in front of the Directors that match your color. They’ll be your team leaders.”

Once the teams are divided, Mingyu reads out the game mechanics: bowling but with a mix of charades. Six lanes are open for the six teams. The rules are the same as regular bowling but there’s a time limit and in order for the players to actually play, they have to guess the words you’re acting out first. It’s a loud, screaming mess with people shouting over each other and those watching having the time of their lives watching you all make fools of yourselves. The problem with an org like this is that everyone has cameras. You ignore the shutter sounds as you disregard all shame trying to act out slipping on a banana peel on the way to a blind date and your team member runs past you to make her turn and score a strike— bagging your team’s win.

“First place goes to the reds!”

You’re screaming, cheering, jumping around with your teammates and you let out a noise when your back bumps into someone. You turn around to see Soobin clad in your team color who simmers down his bouncing when he meets eyes with you, settling for a breathless smile.

“Congrats,” he tells you. You grin at him, elbowing his arm.

“You’re pretty good at getting washed up on an island.”

His ears match the color of his jacket. “Aah, let’s forget that, let’s— look, look, Mingyu hyung is calling for us.”

He actually is, so you let it slide, allowing yourself to be bulldozed into the crowd by the shoulders by Soobin as Mingyu gives out the instructions for the next activity— an on the spot photo challenge with the theme youth.

“You guys have one hour starting…now! Don’t forget that our anonymous confession box is still open! You can find the link in our group chat and we’ll be reading the first batch of confessions before we present your entries. Have fun and good luck!”

When you reach Mingyu’s side, he slumps with a sigh after dropping the microphone. You give him a pat on the back. “Hang in there.”

“This is so tiring. How do people host for a living?!” he whines, stomping his feet. “Oh, the laptop and equipment is set up over there. You can start collecting photo entries as soon as they’re ready.”

You nod and move to your station. It gets exhausting quickly— inserting flash drives, connectors, and SD cards, selecting, downloading, uploading files and photos and it doesn’t seem like the line in front of your table is getting shorter, only longer by the moment. “Need any help?” You look up to see your lifesaver, Yura, and ask if she can take over for a moment.

“I’ll go get something to eat,” you tell her.

“I just need to transfer their files right?”

“Yup, yup.”

“Alright,” she says. “Girl, go get some rest. There’s only fifteen minutes left so you can leave the remaining entries to me.”

You happily hop off to the snack table. Your last meal was earlier with your friends and you haven’t eaten since then. Coupled with all the shit you’ve been doing since you got to the venue, your stomach is already dying and it’s only four in the afternoon. Myungho is in charge of watching over the snacks. He’s wearing a pitiful look as he passes you a can of sprite and opens the box of pizza before you.

“Are you planning on going after Mingyu’s position, or something?” he says. “You’re working too hard.”

You scrunch your nose, taking a bite from the slice. “Can’t it be because I’m just trying to impress someone?”

He raises a brow. “Who?”

“I didn’t peg you to be the nosy type, seonbae.”

“Well, whoever it is, I hope it’s working,” he shrugs. “Else you’re just working yourself to the bone without any payoff and end up disappointing yourself.”

Ouch? He didn’t need to give you a reality check like that because the entire event, you haven’t even talked to Beomgyu. Not once. You have made your attempts, but he’s always with someone every time you see him and you’ve not close enough to interrupt.

Myungho notices you frowning at your pizza. He clicks his tongue. “If you came here just to lament about your love life, please do the food a favor and leave. They’re getting soiled by your mood.”

“I’m going, I’m going. You’re so mean.”

The can crunches in your hand and you toss it to the bin on the way back to your station in case Yura is having some trouble. “The next one is from— oh, Lee Chan! I thought this was supposed to be anonymous?” It seems like they started reading the messages already. You can’t hear properly what Lee Chan said and to whom because of all the noise, and you can’t find yourself to care because on your way back to Yura, you spot Beomgyu in the direction you’re walking towards, and he’s alone.

He notices you and gives you a smile and wave. You pick up your pace to a jog.

“Eyy, what’s up?” he greets you. “Aren’t you tired yet? You’ve been working since you got here. I’ll ask Mingyu hyung to give some of your work to others if you want a break.”

“It’s alright. Yura covered for me at the submission table earlier, so I’m all done for today,” you assure him. “I’m just itching to knock down some pins already.”

He hums. “You must be pretty good.”

You grin. “I don’t want to brag but—”

Your conversation gets cut short by the feedback squeal of the microphone. You wince, the ear-splitting noise going on for a good three seconds before it gets cut off. You hear a cough through the speakers. Mingyu is onstage looking a little flustered. “Sorry, sorry, my bad. Anyway, let’s move on to the last message for now. This one’s for— holy shit—”

You hear people laughing, but you turn your attention back to Beomgyu, eagerly waiting to resume your talk.

“Ahem. To Shutter’s Assistant Layout Director.”

Your eyes widen. As if that is’t enough, Mingyu continues reading, and your cheeks grow warmer and warmer by each word he utters into the microphone, amplified by the dozens of speakers strewn around the venue.

“I think I have a crush on you.”

There’s silence, and you can sense too many eyes staring at you. It’s too early for summer but you feel the sun on your face, blazing and unforgiving. Oh my god. You want to hurl yourself into the atmosphere. Oh my god, if this is a joke, you’re going to murder a man.

“Before anyone misunderstands, this confession is from codename Shinbi. Our Assistant Layout Director may be pretty and hardworking, but my heart belongs to someone else, I hope that’s clear to everyone. Anyway—”

“Looks like you have a secret admirer on the loose.” Beomgyu nudges you. “Have any idea who it might be?”

You see, your delusional ass is hoping that it’s him, but the rational part of your brain is telling you to be realistic and stop being a stupid. “Haha, no,” you reply. It could be just someone from the many members of your org that you’ve never talked to. If they really liked you, they would step out and quit hiding behind that dumb codename.

Still, the warmth in your cheeks hasn’t disappeared yet. If shit goes to complete shit with Beomgyu, maybe this Shinbi guy can save your failing college romance. You’re not dumb enough to invest in something so evidently and palpably hopeless. You knew from the get-go– from the moment you saw him at the courtyard in the first week of school— that he isn’t someone you can attain.

Beomgyu is called out by one of his friends again, and he gives you an apologetic smile before screaming back at them and running off.

“Sorry! Text me if you need anything!”

You wave him goodbye and your arm limply falls to your side. Right. Maybe it is time to give up. There are far more important things to your life than some pretty boy from your org, anyway. It’s only a matter of time before classes come in full swing, and you won’t even have the time to think about him anymore.

“Can I tell you something?”

Yura looks up from the torn piece of paper in her hand, containing the list of orders the slave drivers from your org asked you to buy from the cafe in front of campus. It’s a place everyone from your university frequents, so it’s understandably full most of the day. Your friend looks at you attentively. This isn’t the most appropriate place to empty out your feelings, but your orders are taking too long and the buzzer is getting cold in your hands.

“I had a crush on Choi Beomgyu.” Yura lets out a hard cough. “He was the reason why I joined the Shutter in the first place.”

She’s staring at you.

“But I’m over him now.”

Speechless, with widened eyes from surprise.

“If you have any cute friends, please introduce me to them.”

“Wait, wait— one at a time! Oh my god.” Yura exhales, trying to piece together the three bombs you dropped on the table. “You have a crush on Beomgyu seonbae?! Had a crush on him?! If he’s the reason you joined, you’re not resigning, right?!”

“No way,”.you shake your head. “He might’ve been the reason, but I’ve got you guys to make me stay.”

The buzzer vibrates in your hands, and the both of you get up to pick up your orders. “The work is fun. Mingyu is annoying sometimes, but he’s generally a supportive Chair. I’ve gotten closer with the other guys, too, so I don’t see a reason why I should quit,” you continue. Once you get out of the cafe, your phone also buzzes. Yura notices the face you’re making and asks what’s wrong. “Nevermind. Mingyu is just annoying. Let’s just hurry up. The child is throwing a tantrum and needs his caffeine.”

“Are you okay, though?” she asks as you’re walking down the sidewalk back to campus. “I mean. If there’s anything else troubling you in Shutter, you can always vent to me.”

You smile at her. “Thanks.”

The both of you continued walking in pleasant silence. Right when you reach Mirage Building, Yura suddenly stops with a gasp. “So that’s why you joined round two at The Rooftop that night!”

Your brows knit in confusion.

“Because Beomgyu was there!”

“Oh, fuck you.” You feel like swallowing yourself. “I did so many stupid things that night and Mingyu has all of it one his fucking phone.”

When you arrive at the office, Mingyu isn’t even there. It’s dark and near empty save for one person and the glow of the computer screen. Soobin turns to the doorway when you two enter and scrambles on his feet to help you carry all the drinks you bought. You turn on the lights and poor boy flinches, prompting you to turn them off again.

“Sorry,” you apologize.

“It’s alright. You can turn it back on.” You don’t. Instead your squinted eyes scan the room because maybe your god damned senior is hiding somewhere to fuck with you. Soobin notices this, even in the dark.“Mingyu hyung and Myungho hyung left to take care of something urgent for their class,” he explains. “Jina noona and the rest went to get us some snacks. They’ll be back in a bit. You two can just wait.”

A huff leaves your lips and your mouth twitches. “He texted me to hurry up but his ass isn’t even here. Hold on, where’s his drink— I’m leaving it outside. What an unbelievable idiot.”

The door slams in your stomping wake and you put Mingyu’s americano right next to the plastic bag of takeout boxes from yesterday right by the door. There is no point in doing this. You’re just annoyed. You’re still grumbling curses when you stomp back in, but promptly hush yourself with the scene you’re walking in on.

Well. Nothing significant is actually happening. You watch Yura as she’s leaning on the table, an earnest spark in her eyes as she and Soobin converse over a movie you’ve never watched. You press your lips together, holding back a grin and trying to make as little noise as possible when you settle down on the springy couch in the middle of the room. Admittedly, you confided in her about Beomgyu earlier with the hopes that she’d also give hints about what you suspect is her crush on Soobin.

But then, maybe you’re just romance obsessed and attempt to find meaning in everything. You won’t know unless she tells you, but you don’t want to pry.

“Oh no. Wait, I’m sorry I have to go,” you hear her say. She hurries over to the door and pauses in front of you on the way. “Professor Han wants to meet us immediately for a paper consultation. Gosh, he just does whatever wants.”

You wave her goodbye, and now it’s just you and Soobin in the Shutter office.

He’s standing by the wooden table shoved into the left corner of the decently sized office, organizing the drinks you and Yura ordered. It’s a good thing that it’s dark— this way you can’t see the trash and wrappers on the floor, likely left by the people who went out earlier, but it’s just as likely that they’re garbage from last week. The worn out sofa you’re sitting on is in the middle of the room, up against the storage room wall.

“What are you working on?” you ask, taking a peek at the open computer at the right side of the room. There’s photoshop on the window and you can see some photos from the acquaintance party last week.

“Oh. The pubmats for the winners from the photo contest last time,” he says while walking to you. You step back to let him settle back on his seat in front of the desk. He places his coffee next to the monitor, and the swivel chair rocks back and forth as he fidgets with the layout.

You cross your arms over the chair’s backrest, leaning forward as you peek above his hair to watch him work. He stops moving. The stray strands of hair on his head tickle your nose.

“How about the officers post thingy that Chair mentioned the other day?”

“It’s— it’s in progress, but hyung told me to finish this one first.”

Squinting, you narrow into the cursor. It’s shaking, and your eyes curiously gaze down on Soobin’s hand on the mouse— also shaking, ever the slightest. Maybe he had too much coffee. Sympathy wells in your stomach and you pull yourself back. You take over the seat next to him and turn on the computer.

“Send me the psd for the other one. I’ll work on it.”

Technically, you should be working on it. It’s your job. You’re literally his assistant, but you haven’t been helping him properly lately since you’ve been filling in the spots of the officers who have been inactive lately. You’re collecting fees, accompanying Mingyu for partnership meetings, and sometimes you’re even the one scheduling posts on your social media accounts. But you failed to do the duties assigned to your actual position.

You open the file, and study his initial design before jumping in. “Is it okay if I change the fonts?”

He hums. “Go ahead.”

All you can hear are mouse and keyboard clicks in the office with the occasional creaks from the old, worn out chairs the both of you are sitting on. The blue light is starting to strain your eyes, so you stretch your back and rest them for a moment while waiting for some elements to download.

“You spelled my name wrong.”

You pause mid stretch, turning to see Soobin looking at your monitor. The screen is displaying your work-in-progress for the pubmat, officers listed from top to bottom. Your eyes scroll down until you spot his name. Chou Soobin, Layout Director. You snort.

“So did you, but I didn’t say anything.” You pull up the history panel on screen, revealing how he skewed your name in a previous version of the file, crossing your arms and leaning back on your chair.  “But anyway, my sincerest apologies, Choi Soobin. C-h-o-i Soobin.”

He looks so wronged, it’s funny. It makes you want to mess with him more.

“That was a typo! And I fixed it. Yours looks like an intentional act of malice,” he defends with an offended tone, but the corners of his lips twitch upwards and it’s infectious. You feign a gasp.

“Is that how you think of me, Choi Soobin? I can sue you for defamation, you know. But since I’m kind and compassionate and understanding, I’ll let it slide.”

“Wow,” he gapes, looking around the empty room for backup. The room is empty. You stifle a laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

Today is the day you realize that Choi Soobin is a pretty easy going guy and you’ve got nothing to blame but your paranoia for not getting along with him a lot earlier. If you recall correctly, you also had pretty good chemistry with your team during the bowling game last time. He seems like a good guy. and you’re feeling guilty for thinking that he might tell people about your crush on his friend. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to get it right next time, Choi Soobin. I’ll continue repeating your name until the spelling is ingrained in my brain stem, and— oh. Beomgyu texted.”

Speak the devil and he shall appear. Heck, you were only thinking about him for a good .01 seconds. You press your lips together as you come up with a reply. He’s asking if Mingyu and the rest are also at the org office.

“So,” you hear Soobin clear his throat. “How’s your progress?”

You tilt your head, still typing your reply. “With…?”

“With Beomgyu.”

Suddenly, the phone is on your lap and you make an embarrassing noise. You’re looking at Soobin with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. You knew he knew but you didn’t think he’d ask you outright like this. You cough and pick back up your phone, trying to play it cool. “Have I— have I really been obvious?”

“Maybe not?” he replied. “I don’t think anyone would have noticed unless they’re looking closely.”

You continue typing. “So you’ve been looking at me often.”

It’s his turn to be flustered. “N—no, haha. Anyway, Beomgyu is pretty popular, so the competition is brutal. But I can help you if you’d like.”

After pressing send, you straighten your legs on the chair. Your elbows press on your thighs as you lean forward and Soobin flinches back. Now that you’re looking at him closely, you don’t understand why he doesn’t have as much people lining up for him like Beomgyu. He’s actually so pretty it’s unreal. Maybe it’s because he’s less outgoing and prefers to keep to himself— even in Shutter, Soobin only talks to a handful of people on the regular, and you’re sure he only started talking to you because you literally have to work together.

Not that there’s anything wrong with being a private person. Bottomline, his face is a hidden gem and you’re lucky to be the few that can admire him up close.

“What’s the catch?” you raise a brow.

“The...catch?”

There’s a moment of tense silence until you break with a laugh, comfortably leaning back into the chair. Soobin looks confused. “I’m kidding,” you admit, swiveling the chair left and right. “I decided to give up on him.”

You know you don’t have to explain yourself, but you do anyway. Maybe it’s because there’s still a hint of doubt in Soobin’s eyes, or maybe it’s because you want to rationalize yourself. Either way, your mouth runs, and he just listens. “He’s a pretty face, he’s nice to me, and I would’ve been over the moon if there was actually something, but I don’t think I’ll ever get past being just an orgmate. Guys like him should just be admired from afar, you know? He’s like a pretty flower that you always notice in the garden, but if you pluck him from the bushes and bring him to your living room table, he’ll just wilt and die.”

You pause. “Okay. That sounds a little morbid, but you get what I mean. Anyhow, I’m done with him. I’ll get over him quickly. and I’ll find— oh, Jesus fuck!”

A burst of light suddenly breaks into the once dark room and you jump, glaring at the source of the disturbance. Mingyu’s head is peeking through the crack in the doorway. His eyes are so wide you think his eyebrows would fly off.

“Would you knock, please?” you tell him off.

“Oh— oh my, What’s this?” He’s holding up a cheeky, annoying hand to his lips. You want to throw him a shoe. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Welcome back, hyung.” Soobin greets him.

Mingyu is still wearing an exaggerated shocked expression. “Oh? Sorry, were you having a moment? Oopsies, my bad, I’ll just get my coffee and leave, please carry—”

“It’s outside,” you cut him off. He huffs.

“I know you want to be alone with Soobin, but you don’t have to kick me out.”

“Look down.”

He does, and then he gasps in horror when he sees his americano next to the trash. Mingyu looks up at you from the floor, cradling the drink to his chest. “You monster.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Since Mingyu is already here, I’m heading out,” you announce while getting off the chair. Before Mingyu can try to stop you (he’s already shuffling back to his feet), you give Soobin a smile. “Choi Soobin, I’ll finish this at home later and I’ll send it to you so you can check.” You brush past your senior, and just as you’re about to leave, you hear your full name called out from behind.

When you turn around, you see Soobin with a cheeky smile, dimples popping. “Get home safe.”

It takes you a second to reply. “I always get home safe,” you say, and with that the door shuts behind you. As your back presses against the door’s surface, you can hear the muffled conversations of your two seniors inside, but it’s impossible to pick anything up. You give yourself a moment to take a deep breath— inhaling and exhaling to match the rhythm at the back of your head.

You quickly leave before anyone spots you, running off to the library to go over some of your classes. It’s getting loud again, you think. If this keeps up, you’re going to get yourself in trouble.

Shutter is quiet in the months leading up to your April Midterms. The group chats were still noisy from time to time— most often in the late nights when you’re trying to do your readings and study but your notifications keep buzzing, and your FOMO forces you to engage in whatever pointless conversation they’re having. There was one time, when you caught a sore throat and couldn’t speak for a day, and Beomgyu had sent some home remedies his mother always made for him. You almost caved in again. Almost. Especially when he kept checking up on you the following days after.

May flew by just as quickly. Though you only had two required major courses, it was still difficult to get into the swing of things, so you couldn’t join with a lot of Shutter’s weekend activities and instead buried yourself along with your friends in cafes, study hubs, and the library with Finals slowly creeping in.

You managed to dry yourself out of all your feelings for Beomgyu when you celebrated the end exam week at Jay’s condo. They have a video of you sobbing over him after your hammered ass saw his name when he sent a congratulations message to Shutter for surviving the semester.

That marked the end of your crush on him, and the end of spring. The weather is starting to grow warmer, and your cardigans and cotton-jackets find their places in the back end of the closet. You stop noticing the flowers peeking through your apartment window, and instead look forward to the chirping grasshoppers at the signal of the sunset.

A new season is coming. You hope it’s better than the last.

IT’S SUMMER, THE FIRST WEEK OF JULY— but you’re on campus, and it’s hot, and you’ve been sitting on the bench by the courtyard for thirty minutes waiting for Kim Mingyu to show up. The canvas you’ve been hauling with you serves as your umbrella from the sun’s radiation. His message from last night said that the call time is at 8:00 a.m. It’s already a quarter until ten, and you haven’t seen him yet.

There are a few more people on campus besides you, passing through your frozen spot on the courtyard. Still, none of them are your Chairperson. Annoyed, your fingers jab your phone screen and you put the device to your ear. A few rings, then he picks up. “Hello?”

“Where are you?”

Before the semester ended, the Shutter officers had a meeting for the organization’s plans, and it was decided that you will be holding an exhibit over the break. You’re here today to give him the 26 x 19 canvas-printed piece you’d submitted for display and help set up the venue. It was a pain in the ass bringing it with you on the bus, and you’re not going to put it off until tomorrow.

You don’t hear anything on his end for a few moments. Then he swears. “Oh shit,” he hisses. “Sorry! I’m out with my classmates for breakfast. I completely forgot, crap.”

“Are you serious? I’ve been waiting since—”

“Just go to the Cultural Center!”

“I don’t know where that is?!” you blurt out, but take in a deep breath to calm yourself down. “Might I remind you, Chair, that this is only my second month in university. I tried looking for it earlier but my legs got tired and it’s too hot to walk around.” It’s also worth mentioning that you have trouble with directions in general, but that’s something Mingyu shouldn’t know because that’ll give him another bullet to tease you with.

“Fuck.” he says. “Okay. Wait. I’ll ask someone to come help you. Where you at?”

“At the courtyard,” you reply. “Who are you sending?”

He doesn’t tell you and instead cuts the conversation short. “Gotta go. I’ll join you guys later. I’m really sorry, please don’t hit me. Bye. I love you. MwahI” And then the call ends. You’re staring at your call history screen and processing what just happened.

Mingyu says he’s gonna send someone, maybe another officer, to pick up your lost ass and help you to the Cultural Center, so you should just sit here and wait. It would have been better if the bastard actually told you who’s coming so you’d know who you’re looking out for. You sit on the bench under the heat for another five minutes, arms getting tired from lifting the canvas over your head as a sun-shield.

Then something cool touches your cheek. You flinch in surprise and turn around to see Soobin holding a cold water bottle to your face. He greets you by your full name with a click of his tongue. “You could have waited somewhere else, dummy. Do you wanna get a heatstroke?”

Over the past weeks that you and Soobin have been working together, things have definitely become more comfortable. You might have passed out on face-to-face work with the org, but you’ve been doing your part as his assistant without fail— editing birthday pubmats for your members and officers, congratulatory posts, and other announcements layouts that were needed on demand.

“Choi Soobin,” you greet back. “Are you the one Mingyu sent to save me?”

“Let’s get out of here first,” he answers, eyes squinting when he looks up to the sky.

You take the water from him with a thank you, and the bottle cools your palms as you lag behind Soobin on the way to a more shaded area of the campus. “The Center was still closed when I checked earlier. The guard said the staff are still in the process of cleaning it, so we can’t start setting up anyway,” he explains. “Is this your piece?”

His question mellows you out immediately, just when you were about to complain about Mingyu again. Soobin peers at the canvas you have pressed to your side, tentatively waiting for a signal from you. You give a hum of agreement, a little self-conscious because it’s an evidently beginner piece, incomparable to Mingyu’s or Beomgyu’s works, and photography isn’t exactly your niche, but you let him take the canvas from your arms anyway. He’s careful when he holds the frame in his hands, stretching out his arms to get a full look.

“It’s pretty.”

“It’s amateurish,” you cringe. “I didn’t think they’d actually pick it.”

On the canvas is a silhouette of Sunghoon, pitch black against an ocean sunset. It’s a cliche composition, taken on a whim with Jake’s camera that you borrowed for ten minutes when you got bored on your beach trip last weekend. The decision to submit it was also just as impulsive. You’re pretty sure Mingyu, Myungho, and Beomgyu just picked it because it’s you. Nothing better than some organizational nepotism. You’ll get them to admit that eventually.

“Well, it’s pretty good for someone who’s just starting,” Soobin assures. The both of you must have forgotten that you’re in the middle of a road on campus, an archway of trees above you. The sunlight speckles that manage to leak through the leaves above can be seen shining spots on his face. “I can help you practice when I have the time.”

“No way, do you also do photography?” You’ve only seen him do graphic design and some photo and video editing so far, so you’re legitimately pleasantly surprised. “That’s unfair.”

“No, I don’t,” he answers. “I work better in front of the camera.”

You give him a look. Soobin notices that you don’t quite understand him.

“If the model looks good, then the photo will look good too.”

You’re speechless. “Wow,” you gape. “You know, my first impression of you was that you’re a very kind, very shy, very gentle, very humble individual. But you’re actually quite shameless, Choi Soobin.”

Soobin only laughs, and you try to take your canvas back, but he insists on carrying it. You let him, not by choice, but because he lifted it up to his head and you can’t possibly fucking reach that unless you climb him. Giving up, you look around. “So, what now?” He raises a brow. “The Cultural Center is closed and Mingyu will take a while. What are we supposed to do?”

You didn’t expect him to actually try and think of something, so you’re surprised to hear his silence while he’s deep in thought, contemplating. You stifle out a chuckle. “Would you...like to check out a different exhibit in the meantime?”

“Hm?” you look at him. “What exhibit?”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Well, I had Programming last semester and we had to develop an app as our final project. The faculty decided to display some outputs, and— a-anyway, it’s in the CICT Building. If it’s too far, we don’t have to go.”

“No, I wanna see.” You tug on his sleeve and make your way to their building, overly familiar with the directions from the times you’d loiter around the premises in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Beomgyu, only to get roped by Mingyu and the other Shutter members for a few rounds at different pop-up bars and cafes in the city. But it’s been a while since you’ve been here. It’s white like most of the college buildings on campus, but it’s impossible to tell from the outside how much more budget the administration gave to this building for the air conditioning.

Soobin leads you inside the lobby and from there, you can already see a mini LED screen with the animated text saying SOPHOMORE COMPSCI EXHIBIT. IT203 Programming. OB 101. July 1-23, 2023. No admission fee! along with printed arrows on the floor leading to the large double doors on the right wing of the building. There are white and red balloons forming an arch around the door— their department’s signature color. “You guys really went all out,” you nudge Soobin. He makes a noise of what you assume is embarrassment.

When you enter, you’re met with computer monitors, television screens, and even more LED screens in the large room, lining up in different rows with signs and other things you can’t quite name accompanying them. You’re so used to having only printouts, PDFs, and word documents in front of you for your major that you forgot other courses have a little more life in them.

“Ohhh? Soobin, you’re here.”

Then you notice that there are a lot more people in the exhibit, presumably Soobin’s classmates because they either walk up to him, greet him, or both. You’re stuck with a customer service smile as Soobin engages with them. That is until one of them— a girl you think you share an elective class with— looks at you with a bright smile. “Hi! Are you Soobin’s girlfriend?”

Your eyes bat three times. You’re flustered, but you maintain a tight smile to mask it. Soobin isn’t handling it as well as you because he audibly makes a choking noise and his face, neck, and ears are visibly matching the color of the decorations strewn all about.

“Soobinie, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Why didn’t you tell us? Wow, I’m hurt.”

“It’s always the quiet ones you have to look out for.”

“N-no, what are you—” he stammers. “She’s not— I mean, why would you—”

Oh no. His friends’ hollering and teasing isn’t helping his case at all until Soobin gets enough of it and tells them to shut up while shooing them away. “I’m sorry. You must’ve been uncomfortable,” he says once they’ve all scattered off, a noticeable change in his timbre. “Should we just go?”

“It’s fine,” you assure him. “I’m sure they always do that whenever you’re with a friend they’ve never met before. Anyway, let’s just look at your work! Where is it? Which one?”

You’re already sniffing out the displays one-by-one, but Soobin lags behind for a moment. You turn back, looking at him expectantly. “Choi Soobin.”

“It’s at the end of the next row.” His pace is slow as he leads you to his display, as though there’s glue on his heels, pulling him into the floor. Your nose bumps into his back when he stops all of a sudden. Soobin spins around to sputter apologies, crouching a little to examine your face. “Oh no—”

Your face is a little scrunched up and your cheeks are squished in between his palms. “Does it hurt anywhere? Shit, I’m so sorry.” You can’t even say anything because he’s mushing your face. Your hands crawl up to his arms, about to pry him off, but you hear a voice inserting himself into the scene, and so you pause in the same position.

“Kids have gotten bolder these days.”

You and Soobin turn your heads at the same time. You see someone leaning against the foundation pillar next to one of the displays. He has his arms crossed, and staring at the both of you with sharp, curious eyes. But it isn’t quite clear since strands of his hair are covering most of it. The corners of his lips curve upwards, almost playfully. His piercings catch your attention next— dangling silver amidst various hoops and studs.

In other words, he’s dangerously attractive.

“Hyung.”

Your eyes shift back to Soobin. His arms drop to his side and he straightens his posture. You watch as the newcomer approaches him, keeping a close eye on Soobin’s expression to gauge whether they’re close or otherwise. “Ah, go away.” Soobin rolls his shoulders when the other guy suddenly latches onto him like a koala, the same subtle grin painting his face.

“Wow, you aren’t even greeting me properly, you punk.”

Soobin gets a noogie, and you’re staring at the both of them with an absentminded smile until you’re finally noticed. There’s something in his gaze when he cranes his head ever the slightest to look at you, a slow roll of his irises, and you feel something burning.

“Hi Soobinie’s girlfriend,” he greets. Soobin fully shoves him off.

“She isn’t.”

“I overheard the commotion earlier, though?”

“My blockmates were just messing with me.” Your friend lets out a groan. “Go away.”

He doesn’t go away. Instead, he releases Soobin and he slowly walks up to you. Your throat gets tighter every time he takes a step closer, up until he’s standing directly in front of you. “Hi,” he introduced himself. “I’m Choi Yeonjun. That guy’s senior.”

Yeonjun points a thumb to ‘that guy,’ who isn’t looking very bright at the moment, making it more difficult for you to gauge whether they’re actually friends or not. But you put it on the backburner for now and give Yeonjun your name in response. He repeats it, testing how the syllables should roll off his tongue. Admittedly, your name sounds better when he says it.

“Are you really not dating Soobin?” he asks, and the question catches you off guard.

“N—no,” you quickly reply. “I’m very single right now.”

You want to punch yourself. The fuck kind of response was that?

It doesn’t help when you hear Yeonjun laugh a little, and you feel yourself physically shrink and burn up. You’re sure there’s air-conditioning in the room, but you’re fanning yourself with your hands. The air squeezing down the back of your throat feels like flammable gas. “Sounds a lot like an invitation,” you hear him say. You shoot up, blinking a few too many times.

“I’m sorry?”

Something is tugging on the corners of his lips, and brushes an index finger under his nose. “To watch your exhibit,” Yeonjun clarifies. “You’re friends with Soobin so you’re probably in Shutter, right? So, when’s your exhibit?”

“O–oh, I’m not sure. I’ll ask our Chair once we meet with him later.”

You release a breath you’ve been unconsciously holding. “Then…” he trails off, and you flinch when he suddenly dips closer. Holy shit, he’s too close. “Won’t you need my number so you can tell me the date once you’re sure?”

There’s a cough, and you can hear Soobin mumble something inaudible. Your head peers above Yeonjun’s shoulder and he turns around to check on Soobin, as well. You ask him to repeat himself. “It’s nothing. I can give you updates on the exhibit, hyung,” he says. “And the open dates will be posted on our page as well.”

“Ah, is that so?”

Your eyes narrow at their exchange. Soobin calls Yeonjun hyung and the latter knows he’s in Shutter, so you’ve settled with thinking that they’re friends. Yeonjun also seems to be pretty comfortable around your friend, but the evident tension in the air is making you second guess. You’d have to ask Soobin later.

Then, Yeonjun says something that throws your plans out the window.

“She can just give me a different date,” Yeonjun says. He spins on his heels and returns his attention to you, an eager smile on his face. “Right?”

Now, your love life might have been a consistent dumpster fire, but it doesn’t take a genius to take a hint that Choi Yeonjun is hitting on you right now.

Your brain is short-circuiting, causing you to sputter out an unsure, “Yes?”

“Okay.” It seems like that was good enough for Yeonjun because he graces you with a satisfied smile and holds his hand out. You stare at his open palm. He lifts a brow. “Phone?”

“Oh! Right—”

You dig into your pockets and fish out your phone, passing it to Yeonjun who brings the device close to his face, covering the amusement on his lips from your unhidden fluster. “Cute,” you hear him mumble, and it feels like you’re being swallowed by hot sand.

It’s hard not to get your hopes up from a first meeting like this, but Yeonjun is merciless. Your hopes flutter far above your head when he texts you later that evening while you’re out for dinner with Yura, asking when the aforementioned date will be.

“Why is it so hard for all of us to get together?” Yunjin opens your first lunch together since the beginning of break by slamming a sprite can into the table. “It’s summer break for fuck’s sake!”

The hot pot restaurant you’re in has gotten noisier with your group’s presence. There’s chopsticks clattering on silver platters, soda cans spritzing open, and a mess of voices as justifications break out from all sides of the table.

“I went home to see my parents!” Jay defends himself.

“So did I!” adds Jake.

“Kazuha booked her flight at the end of the month because she’s smarter than you two,” Yunjin points her chopsticks at the latter before switching over to you, who’s innocently shoving a piece of boiled meat into your mouth. “And you—”

“It’s not my fault I have org shit to take care of!” you say with a full mouth. Taehyun passes you a glass of water.

“What about you?” Jay juts out his chin at Sunghoon, who’s also quietly eating from his bowl like you’ve been earlier. “What’s your excuse?”

The moment summer break began, Sunghoon suddenly disappeared without a trace. He showed up at Jay’s condo with a suitcase and shopping bags yesterday evening without an explanation. You have yet to hear from the man himself. He gets uncomfortable from the amount of eyes staring at him and slams down his spoon.

“Can’t a man get some personal time?!”

“Then go have lunch by yourself.” Taehyun pushes aside Sunghoon’s bowl while reaching out for some side dishes. “I’m sure he had a two week fling but it didn’t work out so now he’s crawling back.”

“Yah, what do you know?” Sunghoon shoots up. “You’ve never even dated before.”

“Hey, you shouldn’t slander Taehyun,” Yunjin butts in. You didn’t think Taehyun’s accusation was true until Sunghoon’s reaction. Poor guy really must have gotten dumped. “He got asked out by Aecha and a girl from broadcasting while you were off the radar.”

Sunghoon sits back down. “Seriously?”

“Wait, how come I don’t know this?” Jake only snorts at your question and reaches over the table to place a cube of radish into your open mouth. Your jaw chews automatically, waiting for an explanation.

Taehyun shrugged. Jay answers on his behalf. “Do the both of you even open our group chat? He turned them down. I wasn’t even in the country but I knew.”

“What the—” Sunghoon looks at the man in question. “Dude. Aecha is so pretty, why would you reject her?”

“Go date her yourself, then,” he says.

“Maybe I will.”

“I feel like I’ve overheard this conversation in high school,” you hear Kazuha from beside you and you breathe out a laugh in agreement.

“But I was also pretty shocked when I found out Taehyun turned her down,” Yunjin says. “I thought you two got along pretty well.”

Aecha is another girl from your major, and you’ve seen her and Taehyun together a few times— asking questions about your classes and such. It never hit you that she had a thing for your friend. Then again, you aren’t the smartest person in that area, either. While listening, you’re on the verge of spilling your guts out on the table about the very dangerously attractive senior you met the other day. Kazuha notices how you’d suddenly grow quiet from time to time. You open your mouth, but Taehyun catches everyone’s attention.

“I’m not interested in dating,” he says. “I’ll just get distracted. If I’m going to be this nation’s president in the future, there’s things I need to prioritize first.”

You want to laugh at him, but the shit he’s saying is actually possible, even if he’s saying it with a serious voice as a joke. You decided to take public administration as a pre-law, but Taehyun seems to have a higher ambition than all of you combined. Sunghoon warns him that he shouldn’t be too confident about staying single, “You’ll never know when you’ll fall in love and trip over your plans, buddy.” Taehyun just shrugs him off and continues eating his lunch.

You’ve already emptied your bowl and are once again deep in thought. It’s not only Kazuha that notices this time— Jake eyes you as he drinks from his glass of water. When he settles the glass down, he calls out your name. Your eyes snap forward and look at him. “Yeah?”

“What’s up?”

Man, you really have to fess up now, don’t you? It takes a while to get the words out of your system, and the amount of eyes staring at you is making the food crawl back up your system. This must be how Sunghoon was feeling earlier. “Well,” you start, trying out one word at a time. “I met a guy.”

Jay nearly spits out his water. You don’t give them an opportunity to grill you and continue.

“We’ve been texting for a few days.” It’s Yunjin’s turn to choke on her water. “Is it...too soon to go on a date with him this weekend?”

You’re guessing you gave out too much information at once, so it’s taking them a while to make a response. You sit there, innocently fiddling on some tissue paper. Jay is the first one to recover/ “Holy shit. I didn’t believe you when you said you were over Beomgyu, but I guess you’ve really did move on, huh.”

“Is he pretty? Is he from our uni? What’s his major?”

“You have a thing for tech boys, don’t you?”

“Shut up,” you smack Sunghoon. “But is it too soon? Or…?”

Kazuha drags her chair closer to yours. “Tell us about him first.”

You cock your head, a little hesitant to say anything about Yeonjun yet. You don't think you know him well enough, granted that you’ve only been texting for a few days. Still, you tell him what you can— his name, that he’s a friend of a friend, and that he’s one of the prettiest people you’ve ever seen.

“I think it’s too sudden,” says Jake.

“I think he’s just playing with you.” You smack Sunghoon a second time.

“Don’t listen to them!” Yunjin jumps in before the boys can do any more damage. “You should go date whoever you want and it doesn’t have to be serious. You’re at the very least interested in him, right?”

“Well— yeah.”

“And it seems like he’s interested in you, too! If it works out, then great! If it doesn’t, then we’ll just help you get over him. Give it a shot. You’ll never know unless you do.”

You ponder over Yunjin’s advice for the rest of the day until you find yourself staring at your phone screen instead of going to sleep. The night is leaking through your window, and you turn to your side, biting your thumb. The screen is showing your last conversation with Yeonjun, earlier this morning before you left to meet with your friends. Your bedside clock ticks impatiently. Then you start typing.

Saturday.

Hm?

I heard there’s a summer promo at Baskin Robbins.

You shove a pillow to your face and you end up kicking off your blankets. Taking a sharp breath, you sit up and attempt to lower the rising temperature, else you wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. Though when you see his reply, you fumble harder.

Can’t wait :)

Yunjin should’ve warned you that taking her advice had side effects.

Saturday comes. You’re already sweating buckets on the elevator ride down your apartment.

It’s hot out, so I’ll pick you up, Yeonjun texted a few hours prior. He also asked what outfit you’ll be wearing. We should match, he says. You’re in an oversized striped dress shirt and about to pass out from nervousness.

One thing you haven’t told your friends is that fact that you’ve never been on a date before. Like, ever. Your high school years were plagued by books and tests and assignments and the moment your parents allowed you to move out for university, you decided you wanted to live your life to the fullest— at least during your first year.

However, your resolve doesn’t translate to having balls of steel. The elevator reaches the ground floor and you hesitate to leave. You pull out your phone and use it as a mirror to give yourself one last check, fearing that your makeup has already melted off. It took you thirty minutes just to get your eyeliner perfect and you’d cry if they’ve gotten ruined.

You only get one quick glance before the screen flashes on. An incoming call from Yeonjun. You press the phone to your ear and hurry out the elevator. “I’m on the way!” The floor is slippery when you skid across the lobby and emerge through the entrance, but you manage to catch your balance by holding onto the doorframe.

“I see you.”

You allow your arm to fall to your side because you spot him as well in front of your building, waiting outside a gray vehicle. He was serious when he said he’d match your clothes.

Yeonjun waves at you with a wide grin, but eyes covered by the dark shades perched on top of his nose. It doesn’t stop your cheeks from flaring up. You feel like you should be the one protecting your eyes and not him.

“The temperature today is brutal, isn’t it?” he says upon your arrival. “Ah, I can’t wait for some ice cream therapy.”

He should know that he’s much more dangerous than the scalding summer heat. The warmth from his palm is still lingering on your shoulder when he guides you inside his car, and you feel a lot more lightheaded inside the compact space of the vehicle than when you were outside. Your left leg is jerking in nervousness. Yeonjun turns on some music, and you start to loosen up a bit more.

“You know,” he says, eyes on the road in front of him. “You’re a lot more talkative in text than in person.”

You should’ve known you’ve been pathetically obvious. “Relax. I won’t eat you up.” Yeonjun assures.

“It’s just that,” your knuckles tighten on your lap. “I’ve never been on a date before.”

“Really? Guess I should do a good job today.”

When you snatch a glance at him, he peers at you with a smile and you want to explode. “So that you’ll let me take you out on a second one.”

It’s always like this whenever you’re with Yeonjun. You learn this after the second, third, fifth time you’re out with him. It’s like something is burning, always keeping you on your toes else you’ll combust along with the flames. He’ll say something that’ll set your cheeks on fire and won’t do anything to put it out.

Yet the burn is addicting, like when your fingers start to sting a little after playing with lit candles whenever there’s a power outage. But you still swipe your index finger barely above the flame to show off that you can tame it with your own hands.

The exhibit will be on the twenty-second of July. Yeonjun says he’ll be there.

“You’ve been in a great mood lately.”

You turn around after settling an easel at the end of the room to find Mingyu fixing the ones next to you. It’s a day before the exhibit— Hanyeorum, as the selected title— and some volunteers from Shutter are making last minute preparations at the Cultural Center. The easels you borrowed from storage finally arrived. All that’s left is to arrange them along with the photos, and plaster their labels underneath.

“Some would say you even look prettier,” he wiggles his brows, and you snort.

“What do you want, Chair?”

Mingyu pouts, moving over to another corner of the venue. “Your attitude still sucks, though.”

“As if yours is any better,” you shoot him a grin. He lets out a scoff and falls to the floor, sitting cross legged and looking up at you. He pats the ground in front of him. You’ve been working and walking around since two in the afternoon and it’s already getting dark, so you take his offer.

“Are you inviting anyone for the exhibit tomorrow?” he asks. You raise a brow at him, wiping your hands with the towel you’ve just stolen from his shoulder. The easels are dusty. Mingyu continues talking. “They say if you bring someone to check out Seo Myungho’s ‘Everlong,’ the both of you will fall in love.”

“That sounds fucking stupid.” You toss the towel back at him. “Wait a minute. Are you spreading these rumors to get more people to come?”

He grins. “Genius, right?”

“Hate to admit it, but that’s actually a good strategy,” you tell him, and his face stretches into a proud smile. “Need any help spreading fake news?”

“If we reach one-fifty visitors on the first day, I’m treating everyone who helped out. A new bar opened in the district.”

You shake on it. “Leave it to me.” How can you say no to free drinks? Even if you don’t reach the quota, Mingyu will probably spend money on you all, anyway.

“I’ll take over from here. Go take a break until the guys come back with the displays.”

You have no reason to protest. You snatch a can of soda from a plastic bag in the middle of the room and make your way outside. The night breeze is gentle on your skin, and you spot someone else taking a breather outside the building. He’s leaning against the railings, looking into the dim painted campus. “Choi Soobin,” you call out. He turns around, blank face tugging into a small smile and he greets you the same way as you called him. It’s been a while since you’ve hung out with him. Even the days where you were working for the exhibit, you and him have only exchanged a few words, mostly greetings.

“Are they done inside?” he asks. You take the spot next to him.

“Not yet,” you reply. The soda can is cold on your lips, and you look up at him. “Heard the rumor about Myungho’s piece?”

“The one Mingyu hyung is spreading to get people interested?” Your laugh comes off as a huff of air when he hits the nail on the head. Just how many people has Mingyu been recruiting? Soobin tells you how ridiculous it sounds. “I don’t think it’s gonna work as well as he thinks.”

“I think otherwise,” you tell him. “The fact that such a rumor exists in the first place is gonna draw their curiosity, whether they believe it or not. 2,000 won isn’t much. I’m sure people would throw away their money to see what in the hell this Everlong piece looks like.”

Soobin laughs. “You’ve got a point.” He stays quiet for a moment before asking, “Did you invite Yeonjun hyung?”

“He says he’ll come,” you reply. “What’s with the face?”

You’ve noticed his discomfort on the day you met Yeonjun, second guessing your assumption that they were friends (they are, Yeonjun assures. Soobin also clarified that when you questioned him on the same day). However, you still haven’t gotten an explanation from that dau. You hope Soobin will give you some clarity tonight. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way,” he starts, and you listen attentively. “But I’m just worried.”

“Is he a player, or something?” you raise a brow. “He does look like one, and I thought so too at first until I got to know him better. But if he is, you would’ve warned me.”

Soobin shakes his head. “No, well— he’s not like that, but—” He’s a little hesitant. You can tell from his expression. “Yeonjun hyung isn’t an...actively bad person. It’s just that…he sort of has commitment issues.”

This is news to you, but you keep your thoughts to yourself first. Soobin continues and you keep listening. “He doesn’t hesitate to make a move when he’s interested in someone, but after a couple of dates or when things start getting a little more serious, he gets cold feet and it ends up— you know.”

It’s not an easy story to tell. Soobin must have spent a while thinking if he should tell you these things about Yeonjun or not, considering the fact that he’s probably closer with him than you, who just popped up in his life a few months ago. Yet he still told you, and he’s looking at you with such an earnest concern in his eyes. “The two of you are my friends and the last thing I’d want is either of you getting hurt.” To say you’re touched is an understatement.

“For a while I thought you were being jealous.” You joke in an attempt to lighten up the mood, but it’s only made the air colder and you quickly try to cover it up. “But thanks for looking out for me, Choi Soobin.”

He presses his lips into a tight smile. Your shoulder slump, letting yourself sink into the railings.

“I don’t know. I still like him a lot,” you admit and Soobin hums in response. “Still. Whatever happens, I hope it doesn’t get in the way of your friendship with either of us.”

Soobin’s smile settles softer. “Of course,” he says, and it’s suddenly a lot easier for you to breathe. In spite of the arid summer weather, it’s cooler tonight. The wind blows in a gentle rhythm outside the Center, and you sip on your soda in the quiet of each other’s company. The science doesn’t last long— you start hearing a lot of noise coming from inside the building, prompting you to straighten.

“I think Beomgyu and the rest are back,” you tell Soobin, tugging on his sleeve. “Let’s go. God, I can’t wait for this shit to be over.”

You should’ve taken Soobin’s words as a warning.

It’s the day of the exhibit’s opening and people are slowly trickling in. The tarpaulin in front of the building was designed by yours truly— Hanyeorum in a warm orange and deep purple palette. Mingyu says he can already smell the success of the exhibit, but you’re restless at the ticketing area, walking in circles with your eyes glued to your phone until someone calls out your name.

“Your friends are looking for you,” Yura’s head pops into the booth. “Chan is coming in a bit to take over.”

When Chan arrives, you hop off from your post and join the four people loitering by the entrance. Yunjin and Kazuha are out of the country for vacation, so you’re left with four bastards. They don’t notice you as they’re huddled around your piece near the doors, so you bump your head into Jake’s back.

Four heads turn around. Jake swallows you in a one-armed hug when they notice it’s you. “They finally set you free,” he says, destroying all the work you put in your hair in a matter of seconds.

“This org will fall apart without me,” you say, still tucked into your friend’s side and you cringe when your eyes land on your piece. Mingyu still hasn’t admitted that it’s only up for display because he’s biased. Your friends are praising you because they’re biased, too.

“This one is the best in the entire exhibit.” Except for Sunghoon. You’re sure he only likes it because he’s in the photo.

“Have you even checked the rest of the exhibit?” you raise a brow at him.

“No, and I don’t need to,” he says then releases a noise of awe accompanied by an approving nod, hand on his chin and all. “This is a masterpiece.”

“Where’s the cursed photo everyone’s talking about?” Jay asks, looking around the interior like some sort of art critic. He’s even wearing obnoxious ass shades.

“Right,” Taehyun adds. “The thing you told us about.”

“It’s not cursed. It makes you fall in love,” you click your tongue, finally escaping from Jake’s grasp. Jay scoffs at your correction.

“Sounds like a curse to me.”

Nevertheless, you take them to see Myungho’s display. You guys printed it on the biggest canvas you could get your hands on and made sure to position it at the end of the building so that the viewers could wander for a longer time. The downside for that reveals itself to you in the form of your friends getting distracted by other photographs and disappearing like scattered bugs in the Center.

The only one you’re left with is Taehyun, who’s genuinely curious to see your senior’s piece.

“Wow,” he gapes. “I didn’t think it’d actually be good, but this is amazing.”

What overtakes the wall is a massive blanket of the night sky, splotched with the occasional star. It’s on the rooftop of somewhere you don’t know, but the sky is so clear, so pretty, so hollow that it draws your attention. The canvas nearly stretches from the floor to the ceiling. It was Mingyu’s idea to print it this big. He wanted to make it feel like you’re in the photo yourself— with your significant other, friend, or anyone you want to share the midsummer night sky with.

“I thought Yeonjun was coming over.” You turn to look at Taehyun. He must be done admiring the piece.

“I thought so too.” you reply.

He’s quiet for a moment— a cautious silence before asking, “Have you texted him?”

“What do you think?”

You’re engulfed in your second hug for the day. Taehyun is never affectionate with any of you, so you know you’re already that pitiful when he decides to comfort you with an embrace, but you don’t complain.

“Maybe something came up so he can’t reply yet. Don’t be too sad over a man. Enjoy your opening day with the rest of your friends.”

If Soobin hadn’t told you anything yesterday evening, you might’ve been a little more hopeful and it would have bitten back twice as hard and painful. Still, your hopes aren’t completely obliterated. You wait for a text or a call or anything up until the first day of your exhibit finally wraps up and you’re in Mingyu’s car with shitty love songs playing on the speaker on the way to Dice, the newly opened bar he mentioned.

“Cheers!”

Shot glasses clunk with one another and you feel the burn crawling down your throat. “Slow down,” Myungho warns while refilling your glass. “I don’t want to clean up after you tonight.”

Your mouth forms into bitter pout. “Cut me some slack. I’m tired and sad and I’ll get shitfaced if I want to.” Your head dips back as you finish another shot. Myungho clicks his tongue with a disapproving head shake and transfers to a different table, where you spot Soobin stealing glances at you.

Shit, he must’ve heard you. You try shrinking yourself and squeeze next to Yura. God, you probably seem pathetic to him right now. It hasn’t even been two days since you talked about Yeonjun, but his warning already happened. You don’t think you can talk to him about it yet, so you gather yourself to a different table. You hear an angel’s chorus singing when you spot Mingyu near the bar front. He’s with some Shutter members that you aren’t really close with, but you bulldoze through it.

Mingyu spots you and waves over for you to come with a bright smile that signals he’s already a few bottles in. “Sit here!” your senior beckons, patting on the empty chair beside him.

“Who’s this?” the guy sitting across him asks. You recognize him from some of the events your org has had— Jeonghan, you think, but you’re not entirely sure since you’ve never talked to him. All you know is that he likes to tease the other members in the group chat a lot.

Still, you give him a polite smile and Mingyu introduces you to each other. You were right. He is Jeonghan.

“Ohhh! So, this is her,” Jeonghan exclaims, stirring your confusion. “The girl Soobinie likes!”

You blink at him. “Ex— excuse me?”

Mingyu quickly brushes his statement away with a laugh and starts thanking you for the exhibit’s success in between drinks. There were a total of 167 visitors today, morning to evening, so Shutter finally has some expendable funds.

You should’ve learned from the first night you were out drinking with Mingyu that you cannot keep up with his pace, but you never learn. He’s making you another drink, sober enough to not spill anything, but your head is already feeling dizzy.

“I’m gonna go get some fresh air.”

“Careful! Wait, hyung you should accompany her—”

“I’m fine!” you assure. “I can still walk by myself, thank you very much.”

You can. Barely, but you can manage. It’s better than being assigned to a senior you’re not even close with and you’d much rather be alone so you can wallow in your feelings. But you overestimated your motor skills while under the influence. You bump into a pillar and stumble right when you’ve almost reached the foyer.

“Whoa. Are you okay?”

The shock and shame of seeing Soobin’s face is almost enough to snap you back into sobriety. He managed to grab you by the shoulders before you could make a fool out of yourself in a public bar.

“Choi Soobin,” you greet him. “You were right. Totally, completely right.”

“Let’s get you back on your feet first, okay?” He steadies you back on your feet, and you grumble with a tight grip on his sleeve to keep yourself balanced. You finally make it to the foyer, leaning against the ledge as you intake the fresh breeze. It’s a mirror of your encounter with him last night. Even the conversations are direct reflections of each other.

“Yeonjun didn’t show up today,” you finally tell him. He settles next to you, and his elbow brushes against yours.

“Maybe something urgent came up?” he says after a moment of pondering. You fish out your phone and after a few scrolls and taps, you flash him the screen, revealing your last conversation with Yeonjun. Conversation is a stretch. The rows of messages you sent today are all marked as read. Soobin’s face glows from the bluelight. “Oh.”

You pocket your phone and stare back into the horizon. There are more occupied tables settled in the bar’s backyard, eliminating any opportunity for silence to rupture. “I’m sorry,” he says. You look up and give him a smile.

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “I’m okay. We were only talking for like, three weeks. I didn’t even like him that much.”

Yet in spite of the white noise, the moment when you stop speaking feels heavier than the dead of night. Soobin peers down at your face. You’re staring blankly at the air, and he’s almost convinced you’re actually fine until he catches the slight quiver of your lips and the damp glassiness of your eyes. He flinches back when you suddenly take a sharp breath.

“I thought he was the one! God damn it—”

He’s in a bit of panic at your outburst, unsure of what to do so he settles with awkwards pats on your shoulder as you continue your fit. “Why is it so hard to get in a relationship?” you exclaim. “I mean, it seems so easy for other people! I stopped eating at the cafeteria because I see couples left and right, while all i do is fall on love on my own and end up disappointed and heart broken.”

Your rant leaves you a little out of breath. The air circling around you starts to grow warmer, and Soobin’s face starts to grow a little hazy as you slowly blink, but the concern in his eyes cuts clear despite your insobriety. It makes you laugh a little.

“Choi Soobin,” you call his attention. “Do you like anyone?”

Silence settles in the dry, arid evening. You watch as hidden thoughts flit through his head until he finally gives an answer.

“I do,” he says.

And you remember Jeonghan’s words from earlier. It’s hard to take seriously, and you’re not sure if you even want to take it seriously. Still, it leaves an aftertaste in your mouth, and you swallow it with a sigh. “Good for them,” you hum, melting further into the iron ledge. “Must be nice to be at the receiving end of love. Ah, why do I fall for people so quickly? Am I just easy?”

You earn a comforting pat from Soobin, his hand settling on the top of your head and when you peer up at him, he’s looking away with an unsure expression, the same uncertainty you can feel in the tremors from his hand.

”We should get back inside. You’re not even wearing a jacket.”

“It’s pretty warm out.”

“Still. Summer colds are brutal,” you nudge him. “Let’s go back.”

Mingyu managed to get other members to help in managing the exhibit until the first week of August, so you have more time for yourself. While everyone else crashed with the waves and dug underneath the sand, you resigned to staying indoors and sleeping in while you still can. You’ve heard from some seniors that the next semester will be a lot more brutal.

It’s only the end of July, yet the air around you has shifted from a sweltering burn to a mellow warmth of burnt orange and chalky sienna. It’s still hotter on some days, and those days you’re out with whichever friend is available.

Summer ended early for you. You’re still figuring out how you feel about that.

A WEEK BEFORE FALL SEMESTER, you and Yura decide to clean up your closets and buy more appropriate clothes for the season. You’ve already signed up for your classes once the MIS opened, and you and your friend were lucky enough to enroll in the same elective. You’re only good at graphic design, but you hope art appreciation will be kind to you.

“I don’t think I have any more space for this,” you state, expertly flitting through the clothes rack of cardigans and sweaters. There’s a red one that catches your eye, so you pull it out and hang it over your arm along with your other picks.

“That’s why I went home last weekend and left a bunch of my clothes there,” Yura replies. “What if you sell your old clothes online?”

“I’m thinking about it,” you say. “For the meantime, maybe I’ll just stuff my summer shit in a bag and hide it under the bed.”

“Sounds good,” she says. “Should we check out?”

You two leave the thrift store with two bags in each hand and decide to stop by a ramen place for lunch. While waiting for your orders to arrive, you settle into idle conversation. “You’re meeting up with Chair later, right?”

“Yup,” you reply. Your orders arrive, and you thank the waiter and split apart your chopsticks. “He wants to hear my ideas for the campus festival.”

“I feel like he relies on you a lot,” she says. “Maybe he wants you to be the next Shutter Chair.” You don’t think she’s wrong. It’s evident to everyone that you’re working more than what your position entails. Sometimes, you feel like a second Vice along with Myungho. Not that you’re overly against it— in fact, being needed makes you feel a lot better.

“Does he want to pass his headache to me?” you laugh. “I’m not even sure if I still want to stay in Shutter next year. I want to focus on my acads.”

You notice that she’s been a little less bubbly since earlier. You sip on a little bit of ramen soup and watch Yura as she eats, a thought seeping in your mind and you settle your chopsticks for a moment. “I got ghosted last month.” She coughs on a noodle. “On the day of the exhibit opening.”

Once she recovers from the joke, a glass of water from you to help, she looks at you with wide eyes. “Hello?!”

“Try some karaage.”

You place a piece of the fried dish into her mouth. While she’s chewing and swallowing, you can see her processing your words better. “Who?”

“A guy from comp sci,” you say, picking on the boiled egg in your ramen bowl. “I don’t think you know him.”

Your confession simmers in the air for a moment as you two continue your meals in silence. That is until Yura puts down her bowl after finishing her food and tells you, “I got rejected.”

Cautiously, the words stumble on your tongue. “By...Choi Soobin?”

“How did you know?!”

“I sort of noticed you have a crush on him,” you sheepishly say. “I haven’t told anyone, don’t worry.”

The both of you share a moment of silence to mourn the death of your love lives. It’s almost funny how you and her have an accumulated zero when it comes to your luck with men. “You know what,” you start, ready to leave the restaurant. “We should focus on self love next semester. Fuck everyone else.”

“Yeah!” Yura follows after you, picking up her shopping bags from the floor. “Fuck everyone else!”

Another wave of silence overtakes you as you leave the restaurant, and once you’re back out in the main space of the mall, there’s a relapse.

“I miss him.”

“I miss him, too.”

This is gonna take a while.

Yura gives you a hug before you part ways in front of campus. Mingyu already texted that he’s in the clubroom with your coffee as hostage. The ice is already melted when you get there, and the both of you spend more time scrolling on your phones on the bed Myungho bought the other week because a few too many people have fallen asleep in the office. You’re supposed to be making initial plans for the September festival, but your feet are on Mingyu’s lap and he’s trying his best to fit on the mattress.

“Hey, set me up with one of your friends.” You kick your feet to pull up your body, sitting up straight and Mingyu looks at you like you’ve just assaulted him. “I saw your insta story yesterday. The guy in the bucket hat and glasses is cute.”

“He’s married to his lab reports and is in love with his cat. You’ll only get your heart broken,” he says, sending you a pointed look. “Don’t you have anyone you’re interested in from your major?”

You run the numbers in your head. There’s only a handful of people you find attractive from your major and most of them are your friends. Mingyu takes note of the unabashed disgust on your face.

“I’m guessing that’s a no. How about your anonymous confessor?”

Right. There’s that Shinbi guy from orientation. Whatever the confession said is already fuzzy to you, and no one’s even made a move since then so you didn’t dwell on it too much. Mingyu plops down the bed, looking up to you with his feet swinging behind him like a teenage girl. “Have they revealed themselves yet?”

“What? No. I think they’re over me,” you scrunch your nose. “It’s been months. It’s already expired. There’s no hope in that anymore.”

“Do you seriously have no idea who it is? Dude, I’ve been teasing you with him all this time!”

“Choi Soobin?” He gives you a look: Bingo. “What the hell makes you say it’s him? Did he tell you?”

“No.” You raise a fist. “But hear me out, okay? Wait—”

Very quickly, he scrambles off the bed and hauls in the whiteboard you have in the office. The wheels screech as he drags the giant board in front of the bed. The marker cap pulls out with a pop, and he writes CHOI SOOBIN on the white surface, all caps, and then SHINBI at the bottom.

“Look,” he taps the marker on the board. “All the letters in Shinbi can be found in his name.”

Your head tilts, observing the bullshit he’s written. He seems about right. “And?”

“That’s it,” he nods, looking proud. “What?”

You throw a pillow to his face.

“Hey, what if I’m right? What if it really is Soobin?” he pushes defensively, roughly erasing the blasphemic writings he made on the board. “How would you feel?”

It’s been months, and whoever Shinbi is, they’ve probably lost their feelings already so you see no point in dwelling on it. But if Mingyu’s speculations are correct, then that complicates things. You recall Jeonghan’s words from the other day, and the fact that Yura literally got rejected by him and she’s still far from over him. The very idea stresses you out.

“I don’t think it’s him.” You hope it’s not him. “But if it is, then he’s really doing a favor for my ego.”

Mingyu has already positioned the whiteboard back on the opposite side of the room. He’s back with a skeptical eyebrow raise. “I mean, if a good looking guy has a crush on you, won’t you feel like you’re the hottest person on earth?” Not taking things seriously fends away the stress.

“So, you’re just using him to feed your narcissism?!” he gasps. “Don’t do my son dirty like that!”

“Calm your giant tits, Gyu. It’s more likely to be Heeseung than Soobin.”

God, you don’t even want to begin thinking if it turns out to be him. Mingyu raises his arms protectively against his chest and you sigh. “Let’s shut up about this and plan for the festival.”

“Your boy thirsty ass is the one who brought this up in the first place.” You hit him with another pillow the moment he settles back on the bed. “Ow! This is why you don’t have a boyfriend. Your temper is shit.”

For the rest of the afternoon, all you two do is type down all the ideas that float in your head in a shared Google document until you realize that half of them aren’t feasible with your bare minimum budget, so the document gets cut in half until you settle with some basic shit— a photobooth and a table to sell some prints of your members’ works.

Before you conclude for the day, Mingyu mentions an upcoming university event sometime within the month. “We need two volunteers from Shutter to join the LDT. Seungcheol hyung said it’s required.” But you put it on the back burner for now. Mingyu gives you a ride home and you decide to schedule a meeting sometime in the middle of the month. For now, you have some classes to prepare for.

“Thanks, Chair. Drive safe.”

It’s great that things are starting to get busy again. That way, you can keep your mind occupied with the incoming season.

“Are you actually joining?”

It’s two weeks into the semester. Your friends are gathered under the orange leaves of burnt trees at the courtyard, spending your vacant period with laptops and other devices on the bench. “No one else volunteered,” you answer Taehyun’s question, mindlessly scrolling through a highlighted PDF document on your laptop. You have a recitation for South Korean Politics and Governance in an hour and a half. Might as well get some last minute reading while you can.

“We also have a presentation at the end of the month. I hope you don’t forget,” he says, and you roll your eyes.

“I have our work schedule planned out. You know you have zero shit to worry about when you’re with me.”

“Why did Prof. Seo pair you two up? It’s not fair,” Jake whines, pushing away his iPad in order to melt into the stone table. “Donate some brains to the rest of us.”

You peer down at the back of his head. “Who are you working with again?”

“Him.”

He points a finger to the person on the table next to yours. Sunghoon is hogging Kazuha’s laptop, but he turns back when Jake’s words sink into him. “What are you insinuating, Shim Jaeyun?”

“At least you’re not working with our major’s resident deadweight,” Yunjin joins Jake with his table meltdown, to which the latter agrees and takes back his remark.

“I’ll help you whenever I can, Yunjin,” you pat her head, but Taehyun isn’t too impressed by your volunteerism.

“No, you aren’t,” he says. “You already have Shutter and the LDT on your plate. You should sleep when you can. Yunjin, I’ll help you. Let this dumbass rest.”

You shoot him a glare for calling you a dumbass and he simply ignores you and continues with his reading material, but you are a little touched. He isn’t wrong. You still have the university festival next month and before that there’s the LDT next week— or the Leadership Development Training your university council is organizing. Every student organization, college council, and publication are required to send two to three representatives. Myungho was the only one available from Shutter’s officers, so you felt compelled to throw yourself in the waters. Mingyu assured it’s just gonna be a one-day seminar with team games in the afternoon like last year, so you aren’t too worried about it.

But Taehyun is worried. Your 2am texts to the group chat about how fucking tired you are probably isn’t of help.

“I’m going to the restroom,” you announce, and Yunjin shoots up to follow you with Kazuha automatically joining the both of you as well. Your friends are a bunch of idiots so they tell you they’re going to talk shit behind your backs before you leave.

You and Kazuha wait outside the door for Kazuha. She’s dreading your KPG recitation because she fell asleep while studying last night (read: three in the morning). “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Prof. Kim isn’t as terrifying as Sir Jung. I almost passed out the other week because he kept using my answers against me.”

“Don’t remind me,” she shudders. “I wasn’t even called but I was terrified just watching you guys.”

From the corner of your eye you see someone familiar in the hallway. Yunjun’s voice slips in and out of your ears as you meet eyes with Yeonjun as he passes by. You feel a familiar burn welling up in your system. When Yunjin notices, you have to stop her from jumping the guy when he turns to go up the stairs. “Let me hit him. Just once, please—”

“Calm down,” you grab her shoulders. “The guy’s probably just here to pass a paper.”

“I’m sorry. If i didn’t tell you to go for it, this wouldn’t have happened.”

You give her a smile. “C’mon. It’s not your fault. Besides, I’m more or less over him already. Three weeks isn’t enough to ruin my life.” It’s not that you’re pinning the blame on Yeonjun, either. You understand him, in a way, because commitment isn’t easy with a lot of people. You also fell too quick, too hard, too easily. Maybe it’s thanks to that that you’re also able to move on pretty quickly. You only hope that this doesn’t affect his and Choi Soobin’s friendship.

Once Kazuha joins you, the three of you head to the classroom. Taehyun and the rest of the guys brought your things with them already.

The week goes by quickly, and before you know it, it’s already the day before the LDT and you’ve been assigned to a team. Seeing the list in your email, you notice that you know only one person from your team— Chaewon from last semester’s Ethics class. You receive a message from her just a few moments later filled with crying emojis, just as relieved as you to know someone. Not long after, you’re both added to a group chat, and you don’t send any messages except for an introduction because you don’t want to be team leader. Chaewon has the same strategy. Your team color is orange and you dig into your closet for thirty minutes to find an orange top.

The whole event isn’t something you’re exactly excited for. It’s something you just want to get over with. It’s Saturday tomorrow and you have a presentation with Taehyun on Monday. So when you arrive on campus at six in the morning to get to know your team, you’re holding back a yawn and trying your best to pay attention.

After Chaewon introduces herself to the orange circle, your turn comes up like a blur. You aren’t really looking at your team members that much— ironic because the afternoon is dedicated to team building activities. That is until the next person introduces himself, and you’re suddenly hit harder than the seeds falling from the trees.

“Hi, my name is Huening Kai. I’m a first year VetMed student.”

He’s cute, you think. It’s ass o’clock in the morning but he’s already smiling so brightly as if the obnoxious orange hoodie he’s wearing isn’t already catching everyone’s attention. You know you’re staring at him, but the rest of your team is too, especially when he’s expressing his determination to win the team building games later.

Throwing together a bunch on people who are at most acquaintances is simply going to be harrowing awkwardness unless there’s an evident extrovert, and you’re lucky enough to have that person in the form of Boo Seungkwan, a junior from broadcasting who is also (very obviously) your team leader. Just as Mingyu said, the entire morning program is a seminar about budgeting and how liquidation works in your university, but you’re barely paying attention— partially because your very cute teammate from earlier is sitting in front of you and the back of his head that keeps on bouncing around is distracting.

“Oh no, I missed the slide,” you hear Chaewon from beside you before she scoots closer to take a look at your notepad. “Did you catch what it said?”

“Huh?” You’ve only written notes up to the third slide. You’re not sure how far into the presentation you’re already at. “Sorry, I’m a little sleepy today.”

She promises to send you her notes once the event is over, and you mutter a thank you even though you can honestly care less. You’re only here because you’re required to and the only positive benefit you’ve received thus far is the eye candy sitting in front of you. He turns around to pass you the packed lunches they’re giving out. “Careful. It’s a little hot,” he says.

“Thanks.” You smile at him, and he returns the expression tenfold. You were dreading the team building activities in the afternoon but if this guy is cheering you on, you think you can run just about five laps in the field.

“Please gather at the front of the building by one-thirty! For the meantime, you may eat your lunch and change clothes since things are going to get physical. Thank you!”

After eating, you carry your bag to the restroom to change. Lucky enough, you managed to borrow a more comfortable orange shirt from Jake. You exit the bathroom looking like a deflated mandarin, and as you’re walking half-dead, you bump into a large, red mass in the hallway. When you look up, you instantly brighten. God, it feels great to see someone you’re actually close with.

“Choi Soobin!” you exclaim. “You’re here! Why didn’t you tell me you’re also joining?”

He only replied with a sheepish laugh and you can’t help but feel disappointed that he didn’t tell you. Your teams are sitting far apart from each other (odd choice from the organizers because the two colors literally sit next to each other in the rainbow), so you’ve never seen him the whole morning.

“I already volunteered under my major so I couldn’t do the same for Shutter,” he explains. You purse your lips, not even making an attempt to hide your disappointment. Maybe he’s trying to make some distance since you’re friends with Yura and he doesn’t want you to get caught in between, but you’re not having any of that. His friend ghosted you and you’re still on good terms with him. You won’t let him take a step back when you’re already this close.

“Choi Soobin,” you say again sternly this time, and he jumps. At first, you started calling each other with your full government names as a joke, but your tongue has grown familiar with it. He’s looking a little nervous from your tone. You can’t help but break into a grin. “I owe you dinner. Take note of that.”

“For what?” he asks.

“For trying to warn me about Yeonjun. If you hadn’t told me anything that night, I might still be crying about him today. But thanks to you, I was able to prepare myself a little better,” you tell him. “Anyway, red looks good on you. Good luck to you and your team, but mine’s still winning.”

You let him off with a light punch to his arm and skip back inside in a better mood than earlier this morning. Soobin stops you before you’re too far away, calling out your full name in the hallway that you turn around embarrassed, ready to scold him because there are still other people around besides the both of you.

But you don’t scold him. He gives you a smile that makes his eyes disappear. “Good luck. Don’t get hurt,” he says, and you can hear the noise from somewhere inside your system threatening to build up again.

“You too.”

At first, you weren’t planning on pouring all your effort into the games. But then you remember that you don’t like losing, and Huening looks extra pocketable when he’s bouncing around after your team finishes a station.

It’s amazing race. Your team has to accomplish all five stations in record time to earn points. You’re at the third station, blindfolded in the field with the rest of your teammates shouting directions at you. You think your back is going to break after limbo-ing too hard to evade the apparent obstacle hanging right above the end line.

“Finish!”

No, you can’t see. But you can definitely hear the victorious shouts around you and feel the bodies hurling themselves at you. The blindfold slips down amidst the chaos, and you’re met with a sight that rivals the sun, painted in bright orange and flakes of gold. It hits you that Huening is beaming because of you. It hits you a second time that he’s jumping on and off the ground while shaking you by the shoulders in a fit of excitement. You struggle to keep balance, struggling harder to keep smiling because oh no— here we go again.

“Next station, guys! Let’s go!”

He shakes off the gold confetti from the last station and runs along with your group. You have to make a conscious effort to sprint because your legs are jelly from your most recent realization, so you’re the last one to arrive at the fourth station by the water fountain. You hoped that getting splashed in the face will bring you back to your senses, but Huening looks like he’s filming a youth drama in the water like that.

The last station ends in a blur, and before you know it you’re back on the field for the last game. “This game is called Caterpillar. Team leaders, please come to the table here at the MC’s station and get your handkerchiefs.”

It’s a simple enough game. All of you have to fall in line and hold onto the person in front of you like your lives depended on it. The member at the very front of the line, or the head, can snatch the handkerchiefs from other teams. The handkerchiefs must be tucked behind the last member, or the tail. Seungkwan already volunteered to be the head, but your team is still trying to decide who your tail should be. “They have to be agile and good at evading,” he says. “Anyone up for it?”

You have no intentions of volunteering, but Huening does it for you. You nearly choke when you hear him mention your name. “You did great during the blindfolded obstacle course,” he says. Chaewon vigorously nods in agreement.

“We can win this.”

“Are you sure?” you stammer, a little surprised. “If we lose, don’t blame me.” Seungkwan seems to have faith in you as well and you’re in mild panic. But once you’ve tucked in the orange handkerchief in your shorts, your competitiveness gets the best of you. Five more minutes before the death match starts. You’re behind the rest of your team and doing some stretches.

“Don’t overdo it!” You pause mid-stretch when Huening passes by with a pat on your shoulder. “Fighting!” Oh, you’re so winning this.

All ten teams are scattered on the field like a lopsided rainbow. It’s oddly tense. Your eyes land on the team clad in red right in front of yours, and you find Soobin at the head of their line. He looks nervous and it makes you laugh a little. He probably couldn’t say no to them and landed himself there.

“Lose your handkerchief— you’re out. Get separated— you’re out. Doesn’t matter if you fall or trip as long as you’re all intact.”

Oh shit, it’s starting. You position yourself firmly behind Chaewon, arms wrapped around her waist and you decide to clutch on her shirt for extra measure.

“Last team standing gets the most points. Three, two, one— go!”

It gets messy right off the bat and you already hear one of the teams getting eliminated. You’re panting, trying your best to evade the colors trying to fucking snatch the orange little tail; you have tucked in behind you. The interim scores were announced earlier and your group of tangerines were in the top three. No wonder everyone else is out to get you.

“Green, out!”

They fell over while trying to chase you and broke apart. Serves them right.

“White, out!”

Two more teams follow them after and everyone slows down for a moment. Your team is in a spiral defensive position with you at the center as everyone tries to catch their breaths. “Are you good?” Seungkwan asks. You feel like passing out but give him a thumbs up. There are only five teams left on the field. “Let’s go!” And just like that, you’re running again.

“Purple, out! Blue, out!”

Seungkwan manages to snatch another team’s handkerchief. It becomes a lot more tense with only three colors left on the field— red, orange, and yellow. You’re out of breath, panting at the tail end of your line as the three teams take another moment to rest. How many minutes has it been? With the burn your lungs are feeling, it feels like it’s been hours.

“Shit, shit, they’re making a move! Run!”

You almost trip over the ground, legs flailing under you as the team in yellow suddenly decides to chase you. “Don’t let go!” someone screams. You’re sure Chaewon’s shirt has been stretched out beyond use. When it feels like you’ve managed to put some distance between you and the yellows, your team slows down a bit. “Hang in there,” you hear Chaewon from in front of you. “Holy shit, I think I’m going to die.”

“I’ve never run this much my entire— huh?”

It takes a moment to hit you. At first, you thought your legs had simply melted away because you suddenly can’t feel the grassy ground you’ve been relentlessly racing on. But your legs are still there, hanging mid-air. You look down to see a pair of red sleeves wrapped around your waist. Someone just snatched you from your team. Choi-fucking-Soobin.

“Put me down!” You try to squirm out of his grasp, but this guy is stronger than he looks. Your heart is racing faster than when you were running. It’s short circuiting your brain.

“I will! Stop thrashing, I might drop—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because someone smashes into the both of you, hurling your bodies into the ground. “Orange, red, out!” you hear amidst the yelling and pacing of hurried feet, while you’re still on the ground, barely catching your breath on top of Choi Soobin.

“You could’ve gone after the other team,” you say in between labored breaths. His arms are still firmly locked around your waist. You can feel his chest rising and falling from underneath you. You don’t have the strength to get up yet.

“I was,” he justifies, also breathless. “I’m not sure what happened either. Before I knew it I was running after you.”

Oh no. This isn’t good. With a grunt, you roll yourself off of him and fall into the patch of grass next to him. “Chaewon, help me up,” you stretch your arms out, and the girl comes running to save you.

“Good job. We still got some points for being in the last three.” Chaewon pulls you up and you barely have any strength in your legs anymore. Soobin is also skewed away by his teammates, celebrating their second place victory behind the yellow team.

Somehow, your team managed to land second overall, and you’re standing next to Huening for the photo opportunity after the organizing committee hands you your certificates.

Earlier, this morning, you expected the day to go by uneventfully, itching to go home upon entering the venue with no significant gains on your end, only losses. Instead, you leave campus with a giddy smile on your face as your group parts ways with a certain orange clad teammate telling you to get home safe. It’s unlikely that any of you will be thrown together again, coming from different majors and departments and all, so you settle with keeping it as a fleeting late August memory as autumn crawls in.

“I have a new crush.”

Taehyun and Jay don’t look very impressed nor surprised by your revelation. Maybe spilling the beans while you’re waiting for Prof Seo at the faculty office for a paper consultation isn’t the best idea, but you couldn’t help it anymore. No, you and Huening haven’t talked since the event, but he did follow you on Instagram the evening of and everytime you see his stories, you go a little insane.

Before entering the office, you saw his story from last night. He had a puppy with him. They looked identical, especially with his hair all fluffy. How can you not crush on him?

“Who’s it this time?” Jay asks, feigning interest.

“I met him at the LDT. He’s— oh, fuck. That’s him.”

Cue Huening entering the office with two other people. You don’t know why he’s in your department when he’s a med student, but it’s none of your concern because the world managed to give you a one in a million opportunity to look at him. He’s talking to Professor Ahn, and you notice that there are a few other students in the office mirroring your expression. Maybe you’re just fated to fall for unattainable men— at least this time, you’re sure your infatuation won’t last long.

“No way,” Taehyun breathes out from beside you. “Huening Kai? I know him. We were classmates in highschool.”

That...isn’t something you expected. The smile on your face twitches. Jay voices out the question you want to ask. “Do you still keep in touch?”

“Sometimes,” he replies. “Our moms are friends.”

“Oh boy.” Jay lets out a laugh, aggressively nudging your arm. “How are you planning on getting your heart broken this time?”

“Shut up, hater,” you shake him off. “I don’t plan on acting on my feelings this time, so you don’t have to worry about me getting wasted at your condo and sobbing my throat out again.”

Huening is just a happy crush. A very happy crush and you know for a fact that it won’t go beyond that. You’ll cherish the butterflies he gives whenever he posts something new on social media or if you happen to stumble upon him on campus, up until you don’t see him for a week straight then you’ll most likely forget about him, just like how he’s forgotten about you already.

“You seem very happy today.”

After your consultation, you head straight to the Shutter office for a meeting. Mingyu has his arms crossed while peering down at you with a grin. “Want me to ruin that?”

Your Chairperson is a pain in the ass but he’s still your Chair, so you can’t sock him in the face with all the rest of your officers watching. After the LDT, you’re given another problem in the form of the upcoming university festival. Mingyu is presenting the ideas you came up with earlier in the month after polishing it with Myungho. The plan is still the same— photobooth and selling some prints, with the addition of a face painting corner as suggested by your Vice Chairperson. It doesn’t align with your org’s specialty, but you’re sure it’s gonna get a lot of people falling in line, especially when Beomgyu will be one of the people painting.

“We’ll also be needing a tarp for the photobooth background. Oh and a pubmat announcing that Shutter will have a booth.” Mingyu’s eyes fall on you and Soobin, who just happen to be sitting next to each other on the floor next to the bed. “I’ll leave it to you two.”

As if you have a choice. You and Soobin share a look. His mouth twitches into a half smile, almost a sneer, and he shakes his head like the overworked puppy he is. The meeting wraps up and you pry yourself off the floor with a groan before Yura calls your name. “Let’s go have dinner!”

“Oh, I’m staying here for a little longer,” you inform her. “I need to plan some designs with Choi Soobin.”

It’s awkward. Understandably so. You’re standing in between them as Yura tries to control her expression, and you start to feel bad. Soobin decides to look away, which is a great choice for him. “Al— alright, tell me if you need—”

“I’ll bring you two some takeout,” Mingyu whisks her away as he passes by. Most of the officers have already left the room, only a handful remaining, including Chan, who suddenly shoots in.

“I can stay behind if you two need more hel—”

“No! These two can handle it.”

Mingyu is already pushing them out the door. He shoots you a suggestive eyebrow wiggle when half of his body is already out the room. You want to slam the door in his face.

“Call us if there’s an emergency. Bye!”

With the creak of the door, you and Soobin are left in the office. Unlike the last time the both of you were left alone here, it’s bright. All the lights are on, their fluorescence illuminating all corners of the room, fending away the night that’s leaking into the sole glass window high up the wall behind you. Soobin calls out your name in full, like he always does. “Should we pick a palette first?” he asks, already tinkering with Photoshop on the computer.

You hum in reply, taking the spot next to him. It’s quiet while you’re working, save for the occasional questions and answers, “does this look better or this?” or if you should add more or less.  Soobin is working on the pubmat while you’re brainstorming some options for the tarp. The festival is in the third week of September— autumn in full swing, so you settled for some warm tones of oranges, reds, and browns.

“Break time, please,” you groan, already feeling the strain on your back after hunching in front of the computer for thirty minutes. Soobin gets up and crouches in front of the bed, pulling out a basket where you store your shared snacks.

“How are you?” he asks out of nowhere, throwing you a bag of pretzels.

“Well, that came out of nowhere,” you laugh, accepting his offer. Soobin sits back down next to you, his chair swinging left and right.

“Mingyu hying isn’t the only one that noticed that you’ve been in a better mood,” he says. “I’m glad you seem to be over Yeonjun hyung now.”

“You know, you always seem to be involved in my failed romantic ventures somehow.” Soobin is taken aback at your accusation, an unsure laugh escaping his throat. He doesn’t deny it because it’s true— he’s friends with both Beomgyu and Yeonjun. You won’t be surprised if he turns out to be friends with Huening Kai as well. “I have a new crush now, so you don’t have to worry.”

In all fairness, you don’t need to tell him that. But you did anyway. If there is a chance that Choi Soobin was really the one who confessed to you months ago, if Yoon Jeonghan wasn’t just messing you and he does, in fact, have a crush on you, then it’s better to nip the bud early. Things are going to get complicated, especially since Yura still likes him based on what happened earlier. You’re just saving yourselves the headache.

“Should I tell you?”

You can’t dissect his expression. He doesn’t look affected, nor does he look pleased— like he’s practiced it before. “It’s best if you don’t,” Soobin says. “Like you said, it’s like I’m always involved somehow. What if I’ve been the one jinxing you all this time?”

“Hey, don’t say that,” you frown. “It just so happened that they aren’t the ones for me.”

He only laughs, leaning further back into the chair which causes it to swivel more. “Do you think it’s gonna work out this time?

You snort. “No. He’s also out of my reach. And we’ve met like once and he doesn’t even remember me.”

Soobin lets your words simmer in the air for a while. Unlike earlier, there’s a weight in his eyes, staring right into yours. “You shouldn’t put yourself down like that,” he starts. “You’re pretty, smart, hardworking, and responsible. I think anyone would fall for you once they get to know you.”

The air shifts. You hear the deep, rhythmic thumping in your eardrums again, like your body is sending you a message— to run away? To hide someplace where he can’t hear the violent drumming of your ribcage? It’s not like you’re stupid and don’t know what this means, but it’s a lot less complicated and dangerous if you choose ignorance over acknowledgement. A knock on the door saves you. You can breathe again when you see Myungho peering in.

“Takeout delivery,” he blandly announces his arrival. He has two plastic bags in his hand, waiting for the both of you to take the weight off him. “The guards are starting to lock the rooms. You two should hurry and finish up. I’ll drive you guys home. You can eat in the car, if you want.”

It’s like a new life gets breathed into you when you stumble over your feet and quickly grab your food from Myungho with a squeaky thank you. You’re even more thankful when you get dropped off first, unable to swallow any of the food your orgmates bought for you in the suffocating atmosphere inside the car. “Thanks. Drive safe,” you say before slamming the door shut and running into your apartment building.

You’re not stupid. You’re making the smarter choice, you repeat to yourself as you climb up the stairs to your unit. Everything will fade in a few month’s time. You just need to endure it.

“I was about to cry from exhaustion but when I heard Huening’s voice, I felt like I could live again.”

Taehyun’s eyes are nothing but judgemental. “Does he even remember you?” he hits a sore spot. You tell him to shut the fuck up.

It’s the day of the festival. The university ground’s are littered with crisp auburn rain from the trees lining the courtyard, warm lights hanging from the lamp posts in between the pop-up booths from different organizations and clubs. Evening is crawling in, but for now the sky is a pretty shade of orange. You’ve been working since it was blue, setting up your booth situated near the stage of the venue. You’re thanking whoever assigned Shutter to this spot— you can see Huening onstage clearly from where you are standing. He’s one of the emcees for the event and is currently introducing your uni’s president for his opening remarks.

“Your boss is calling you,” Taehyun brings you back to earth, pointing a thumb at Mingyu, who’s setting up the camera for the photobooth.

You suck in a deep breath, ready for some more work. “What is it this time?” you ask. Mingyu spins around to face you. His face is smiling too much for your comfort.

“I’m releasing you from your duties,” he says, proud. “Enjoy the festival. I already asked someone else to cover the cash register.”

Your eyes widen. He laughs and tells you he’s not lying, pushing you into the crowd. Wow. So he can actually be considerate sometimes. “Come back before the event ends, though. We all need a picture together!”

Thanks to your Chair’s blessing, you can actually spend some time with your friends today. You hear Huening introduce the hired band through the speakers and music erupts as you rejoin Taehyun with the good news. “The others are hogging the food at the business department’s booths,” he tells you. “I’m not really that hungry. Wanna play some games?”

So, you do. The next hour is spent with fortune telling and archery challenges, ball throwing and jewelry making. Jake picks you up at some point to jam in the middle of the crowd, jumping around with the makeshift rave party the band is providing. You notice a lot of your peers have drawings on their faces— hearts and sunflowers, waves and pumpkins, patterns in different colors, and you remember your org’s booth.

“Hey!” you call out to Jake. “We should get our faces painted!”

He nods vigorously, and you drag him over to your booth which has accumulated a rather large crowd around it. You poke your head through the rest of the people, trying to see if you can wiggle your friend and yourself in. It’s busy. Like really busy. There are like three different lines mixing and matching together with Beomgyu, Myungho, and Riki bending their backs to paint some flowers or whatever on the people sitting in front of them. You sort of feel guilty that Mingyu gave you free time.

Beomgyu catches your face in the crowd after he finishes a customer, and he greets you with a curious smile. “Face paint?” he asks. You nod, and he pats on the now empty chair in front of him.

“You go first, dummy.” You push Jake down the seat.

“Why am I suddenly nervous?”

You roll your eyes at him with a laugh, but Beomgyu doesn’t start vandalizing your friend’s face yet. “Are you also lining up?” he asks again, and you nod. “Soobin hyung!”

You didn’t even know he was here until you look at the direction Beomgyu is yelling at— a few steps away from the rest of the booths, unlit by the warm candied lights. There, you see Soobin with Yura. The former has his back facing you, so you can only see Yura’s face, and your heart sinks a little. It doesn’t look like she’s at a festival. Her expression matches the dim surroundings they secluded themselves in.

Soobin turns around upon being called for the third time, managing a quick bow to Yura before running back to the booth.

“Sorry— what is it?”

“You have a customer.”

Soobin is a little caught off guard when he sees. You’re not sure how you should greet your friend that most likely rejected your other friend for the second time, so you settle with a smile and try your best not to make it obvious that it’s forced. “I didn’t know you could face paint.”

He looks guilty. “I don’t. They grabbed me at the last minute because we needed more people.”

“Oh no,” you breathe out. “What are you going to do with my face?”

Your eyes flicker to the back of the booth once more and Yura is already gone. God, you feel like shit, but asking for someone else to work on your face or suddenly backing out will put Soobin in an embarrassing situation as well. So you sit down, trying darndest to feign ignorance and act normal. “I’d ask you what design you want, but Myungho hyung only taught me one thing,” he says nervously, preparing the paint palette on one hand and a paintbrush on the other. “I’ll pay for you if it turns out bad.”

“Relax,” you tell him and yourself. “You can do whatever you want.”

It takes him a few tries before he actually gets near your face, and you can see how his knuckles are shaking a little when he lifts up the white-coated brush to your cheekbone, just underneath your left eye. He’s so close. He’s so close. The paint is cold when it hits your skin, like a melting snowflake, and you squeeze your eyes shut. “Hold— hold still,” he tells you to stop moving, but you hold your breath instead when you hear him settle down the palette and use his other hand to turn your head a little, and you stop breathing altogether.

Shit. “I didn’t think it’d get this busy here.” It’s your pathetic attempt to distract yourself from the inferno erupting in your lungs. “You guys need help?”

“No, it’s fine.” Shit, you can feel his breath hit your cheeks, warm amidst the cool weather. “You’ve been working since earlier.”

He pulls back, nervousness gone and a more focused expression coating his face as he examines his work. Under his stare, you feel self conscious, and the heat swirling in your ribcage crawls its way to your neck like an invisible scarf, and your throat dries up. “Hmm, what color do you want?” he asks, pursing his lips at the limited palette.

“You— you can pick.” Your knuckles squeeze at your voice crack. God, this is actually too much.

“Okay,” he says. “Can you tilt your head a little?”

Soobin inches closer again. It’s hard not to look at him when he’s this close. He’s making it hard not to. You flinch when the cold brush kisses your cheekbones, sharply inhale when his warm fingers graze your jaw, until he retracts all the cold and warmth again for an interim check of whatever he’s painting on your skin.

“Oh? Oh, what’s this? Mingyu, your kids are flirting in public, I don’t think they should be allowed to do this.”

Jeonghan’s voice is like a sudden splash of hot water. “Seonbae, if Choi Soobin ends up painting a turd on my face because you’re being annoying, I’m going to bury you.”

Your senior only laughs at your misery, and you don’t think you can handle another second of this activity. “Is it done?” you ask Soobin, ready to bolt out of your chair.

“I—I think so.” He hands you a mirror. “Please go easy on your evaluation.”

His dumb comment makes you feel a little more at ease, laughing a little when you bring the mirror to your face. You were honestly expecting chicken scratch— a splotchy mess on your face of what he intended it to be— but you’re surprised and impressed to see a monarch butterfly making a home underneath your eye, dots of orange littered around it.

“Wow. It’s pretty. Myungho taught you well.” You pull down the mirror and look up at him, satisfied. “Thanks. Where do I pay?”

“It’s on the house.”

“Are you sabotaging our business?” you eye him. His smile is guilty, but you’re smiling at him too. “I’ll go throw money at Mingyu. You still have more customers, Choi Soobin. Your butterflies must be in demand!”

You make an escape rather than a farewell, fishing Jake along after you throw an unsure amount of money on the counter Mingyu is watching. You know your friend has something to say. He looks at you with suspicious eyes and an insinuating grin once you’ve gotten far enough from the Shutter booth. “You look like you’re getting weird ideas,” you get ahead before he can say anything. “Whatever it is, don’t say it. I want to enjoy the festival, thank you very much.”

“It looked like you were enjoying, though,” he swings an arm around your shoulder, hauling you over to the first stall that catches your attention. “Like you were enjoying it a lot.”

You trust Jake not to run his mouth to the rest of your friends, but you bribe him with chicken skewers just to be safe. When you two rejoin your group, the festival is already coming to a close. You were hoping to find Yura, but she hasn’t replied to any of her messages.

Things are already complicated as is. You don’t want to complicate things further.

“What should we do when exams are over?”

It’s midterms week— the third week of October. You raise your arms in the air, locking your fingers together for a quick stretch as you walk with your friends from the Social Science building, fallen leaves crunching under your feet. You’ve just finished an exam for a major course, leaving you with a few minor and elective exams.

“Jay, it’s literally Tuesday,” says Yunjin. “It’s not even the middle of the week.”

“What about for winter break?” Sunghoon thinks out loud. “Is the Christmas party still happening?”

“We’ll talk with the rest of our batchmates after midterms,” Taehyun answers while flipping through his notebook. It’s a wonder to you how he hasn’t tripped yet. “Can’t you two focus on your exams first?”

You’re in front of the College of Medicine’s building. Jake says he needs to pick something up from his friend. “Wait for me! I’ll be quick. If you guys eat lunch with me I’ll throw a fit, seriously,” he warns. You shoo him away and your group loiters in front of the building.

It’s a little cold. You cross your arms together and ask Sunghoon if you can borrow his scarf. He sticks his tongue out, wrapping the fabric tighter around him. “You’re a piece of shit.”

“Hey, I’m cold too.”

Then you feel a thick jacket hit the side of your face then fall to your shoulder. You look at Taehyun, jacketless now. “Are you making a move on me?” you narrow your eyes at him, eliciting a gasp from Kazuha.

“Holy shit.”

“Are you stupid?” he flicks your forehead. “If you get sick, you can’t study. If you can’t study, you’ll fail your exams. If you fail, you’ll repeat a year. Want us to graduate before you?”

“He’s allergic to saying nice things,” Jay shrugs. “By the way, you look a lot less like shit lately. Did your org stop overworking you?”

You decide to ignore his insult. “We’re taking a quick break from events. All we have going on at the moment is in IGP to fund our year-end party and Sensitivity Training. Mingyu is also planning on holding some workshops by next year.” He also wants to make a short film, but Shutter is broke. You guys accumulated some money last festival, but it’s not enough to finance all the things he has planned.

At first, you didn’t think Mingyu took Shutter seriously since the past months, all you’ve been doing was partying, hanging out, drinking, and whatever. You’ve come to realize that that wasn’t the case. “We should all get to know each other before working on something bigger, you know?” he said, one time while you were sorting files in the club office. It’s only Shutter’s first year and he wanted to focus on developing a connection among the members first. You saw his plans for next year while you were organizing the files— he’s got everything down pat. You weren’t sure before if you still wanted to stay in Shutter in your sophomore year, but seeing your Chairperson’s passion cemented your decision to stay. Though you joined because of Beomgyu at first, it’s different now. You’d like to help Mingyu as much as you can before he graduates.

Jake is taking way too long, so Yunjin and Kazuha went off to buy some drinks for you guys. Your legs are getting tired, so you squat down with a groan. “You guys should join Shutter next year,” you tell them, looking up.

It becomes a topic of conversation. Jay and Sunghoon are considering it, but Taehyun is adamant on not joining, causing you to egg him on. While you’re doing your best to sales talk him into joining your org, you get distracted by a cat joining in your little group. “Hello!” you greet the orange tabby, and Sunghoon joins you on the floor. There are a lot of cats that roam around your campus. This guy usually wanders around with a friend.

“Oh no, what’s wrong?”

Your ears perk up. The voice doesn’t belong to any of your friends, and it’s followed by a meow that’s not from the orange cat Sunghoon is petting. You stand upright and spot Huening sitting on the staircase in front of the Medicine building, holding up a gray cat like a baby. “Are you hungry?” The cat meows in his face. “Your tummy tells me you’ve just had a nice meal, though.”

The cat jumps out of his grasp and struts over to your group. “Oh no. He’s too cute,” you grumble.

Taehyun eyes you. “Should I introduce you to him?”

“No!” you snap. “I already told you— this is just a happy crush. A happy crush. Nothing more. I just want to admire him from afar.”

“Like a stalker,” Jay butts in. You kick his shin.

“Suit yourself,” Taehyung shrugs. “Hey, Huening!”

Your eyes fly open, wide in panic. What the fuck are you trying to do?! You furrow your brows at him. He doesn’t respond, instead waving at Huening who is happily hopping down the stairs and running up to you. Jay is enjoying your turmoil. Sunghoon looks up from his cats to snort your evident distress.

“Do you still have exams today?” Taehyun asks him.

Huening nods. “Yup. Organic chem. We already had so many lab projects this semester, but Dr. Jung still wants to give an exam.”

He gets introduced to Jay and Sunghoon, and when your turn comes along, your two friends look extra punchable. “And I think you two have already met,” Taehyun says. Your eyes are telling him that he’s going to get a beating later. His face replies with ‘good luck with that.

“Oh!” Huening exclaims after a moment of thinking. He beams at you, dropping a fist on his open palm. “Team orange!”

You’d be lying if that didn’t make your heart skip a beat a little. If he didn’t remember, you might’ve actually cried from embarrassment. You see Jay and Sunghoon from the corner of your eye trying to suppress their giggles, but their unabashed eyebrow raises and whispers are enough to piss you off. Lucky for you, Huening needs to run back inside the building for his chem exam, so you’re spared from any awkward small talk and the scrutinizing stares of your friends. Huening leaves with an apology, and Jake finally returns, asking what happened and why are you on the ground with your hands buried in your face.

Midterms finish quickly— the easiest set of tests you’ve had so far which makes you a little scared for finals. The post-midterms celebration Jay was looking forward to ended up being nothing more than a meal at his place, no alcohol involved, because his parents came to visit.

You met up with Yura on campus when your schedules matched, and she told you that she did get rejected for a second time during the festival. Your conversation got cut short when Mingyu spots the both of you and invites you to a night out this weekend with some Shutter members. You’ll see if you can go, you tell him. It’s probably best if you avoid Soobin for now until Yura starts feeling better.

“We’ve booked two cottages already, but we couldn’t get an overnight room. If I knew the resort was this popular, I would’ve contacted them weeks earlier.”

Yunjin is in charge of the venue for your batch’s Christmas party— which is just an excuse to swim and go drinking in broad daylight, honestly. It’s a well deserved celebration after surviving a year of readings, essays, and depression-inducing recitations, so most of the people in your year are going. Your department doesn’t exactly prioritize camaraderie, so you freshmen had to organize your own get together since your seniors have basically left you to fend for yourselves.

“Good job,” you squick your cheek against Yunjin’s shoulder, peeking at her laptop to see the venue. It’s two months away, but you’re already excited. Shutter is planning something for the end of the year, too. You hope your liver can handle all of these upcoming parties.

“Twelve-twenty-seven. Life check.”

“Alive,” Yunjin groans. You can hear her back bones pop when she stretches over the couch.

“Zuha?” you ask, looking up from your laptop. You see her face planted on the coffee table across from you. “Kazuha.” She springs up, a sticky note sticking on her cheek.

“I’m awake.”

“Good morning,” you laugh. “Let’s clock out at one. Sunghoon says he’ll be here in the morning.”

“Tell him to bring breakfast,” Yunjin says. You’ve been at their place since after lunch, working on a paper for your theory class. Your professor thinks the weekend is enough to write thirty pages of research and prepare a presentation, so you decided to spend the weekend at your girlfriends' place so you don’t get distracted.

The night out with Shutter is also today— or, yesterday since it’s already thirty minutes past twelve. Mingyu has been sending photos to the group chat to make you feel jealous. Too bad you’re not here, says his last message with a sad face, but they’re all looking extremely happy and off their senses in the photo. Mingyu’s face is closest to the screen, Yura is there, barely awake on Myungho’s shoulder, and at the edge of the photo you can see Soobin, Beomgyu, and Heeseung.

You place your phone face down on the table and return to furiously typing on your keyboard. They’re having fun. Good for them, good for them, good for them. You’re also having fun. Writing a paper is fun. Very fun indeed.

A little while goes by, and the clock strikes one. You’re about to pass out on the spot until your phone vibrates again, expecting another message from Mingyu to fuel your envy even further, but instead of a photo, you receive a text. A text from Choi Soobin. You’re staring at your phone screen, frozen after reading the bubble on your lockscreen.

“Why do you look so flustered? What happened?”

I have a crush on you, it says— without explanation, without context. You’re still blinking at the one-line sentence, as if staring at it long enough will make the letters make sense in a way that you can wrap your head around them, but then another bubble replaces it.

Sorry, Heeseung took my phone. Followed by, Good luck on your paper! and your thoughts spiral further.

This is bad. This is really, really, really bad. How do you even reply to this? What were they doing that Choi Soobin’s phone managed to fall in Heeseung’s hands and why would he think of sending you that god damned message? Were they talking about you? When Yura’s literally right there with them?

You’re going to go insane. Your body’s reaction isn’t making it any better. It’s one in the morning and you’re supposed to be fatigued and tired but your face is burning and your heart is racing and your phone is slipping from the sweat on your hands. “Are you okay?” asks Kazuha. You quickly settle your phone back onto the table.

“I’m fine,” you say. “I’m tired. Wake me up at three.”

But three o’clock comes, and you’re still lying awake on your friend’s living room floor, staring at their ceiling with Soobin’s message still unreplied. When the sun rises, and you’ve finally had some time to think, you click on your conversation with him and send— haha, alright, and you immediately get back to work.

The thing is, you aren’t opposed to the possibility of Soobin actually having feelings for you. But your friend still likes him, and you’re all working in the same organization. You don’t want things to get weird, especially when Shutter actually matters to you.

So in the weeks leading up to your finals, you’re thankful to have enough academic burdens on your plate to decline every single hangout, night out, or coffee run from Mingyu so that whatever hinted emotions your co-director is harboring for might be diminished, even if it’s just a little.

But of course, you can’t avoid him completely. You only message him for work, pubmats, layouts, editing, and all, but sometimes, the conversation wanders— have you eaten’s, good luck’s, and full names exchanged in between font choices and composition decisions. It’s easier said than done to shut Choi Soobin out of your life. He’s made himself part of your weekly routine without realizing it, even if it’s just text messages and clubroom meetings.

Your last semester of your freshman year ends when you walk out of your last final, and the bite of December finally sinks into your skin in icy breaths. It’s the coldest it’s been the whole month, and you’re sure it’s only going to get colder from now.

YOUR CHRISTMAS PARTY STARTS IN SHAMBLES. First of all, your period arrived in the morning, so swimming is out of the question unless you want to recreate a Jaws movie in Samcheok. Second, it takes three hours to arrive at Daryeong Beach resort, so instead of having an early brunch at the venue, it was already past lunch when everyone arrived. Third, you feel like shit. Everyone else is either eating, drinking, or swimming despite the cold weather, but you’re wrapped in a towel in the corner of your cottage because your uterus is throwing a fit and it makes you want to die.

“Are you okay?” you look up from your pathetic position to see Jay, damp from the sea. “Yikes. I’m taking that as a no.” You haven’t said anything. He just looked at your face and left to get some barbecue.

“Babe, you should still eat,” you hear Yunjin say. She has a paper plate in her hands and a paper cup in the other.

“I’m fine. I’m not that hungry yet,” you tell her. “I’ll grab a bite later. Go have fun with the rest of the guys.”

Though it’s the beginning of winter, the cold hasn’t settled. Only a light chill in the air indicates the season’s coming, and the white sand scaling the seashore substitutes the first snowfall. Now that you’re free from any academic troubles, there’s more room in your headscape for thinking— which isn’t always a good thing. Your eyes scan the scenery, the beach within your vision filled by the students from your major. Some are with you under the cottage, some are on the sand, some in the water. What better way to keep your mind off someone than by thinking about other people?

Your major has always been male dominated which almost makes you nauseous. You first set sight on the four men playing beach volleyball— Jiseok, Jooyeon, Seungmin, and Hyeongjun. You don’t think you’ve ever talked to them except when you were paired with Seungmin for a presentation.

Next, you glance under the coconut tree nearest to your cottage. A few girls are gathered, then you realize you’ve never really interacted with anyone outside of your circle and your friends from Shutter. Maybe if you hadn’t kept your world so narrow, then maybe you’d be able to meet someone to distract you.

This is hopeless. You give up with a low groan, thinking that maybe eating could take your mind off of things. You’re about to stand up, but are preemptively sat back down with someone’s appearance.

Taehyun is in front of you, half-leaning down and half-about to jerk back up when your foreheads nearly collide.

“Oh.”

You’ve known from the first day of classes that Taehyun is pretty, but you’ve never gotten the chance to look at him up close— this close. Why would you? You two are friends. That’s a stupid enough thought to bring you back to your senses, a squeak escaping your throat and you draw back. “Sorry,” he says. “Mind lifting your arm for a sec?”

“S—sure,” you sputter, scooting away to give him space. Taehyun pulls out his back from the pile and draws out a towel which he lazily rubs on his hair. He must’ve been in the water— that much is obvious with how his clothes are sticking to his skin and how he’s trying his best to dry his hair without spritzing any water on you.

“You don’t look too good,” he frowns. “Have you eaten yet?”

Oh god. “No, but I’m about to.”

“Stay there.” He lets the towel drape over his shoulders and heads over to the table. Taehyun half-fills the paper plate with the food you like before settling it on the surface to crack open the cooler. “Coke or Sprite?” he asks

You remember the time when Mingyu asked if there was anyone from your major that you could be interested in. You also remember the look of disgust you gave him upon considering your friends. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so appalled. Maybe you should’ve been a little bit more open to the idea— then maybe it wouldn’t be biting you in the ass at this very moment.

“Sprite,” you reply.

“Alright.”

Taehyun has always been caring. His mouth might tell otherwise, but his actions towards you and your friends have always been consistent. So when he returns in front of you with a plate of the food you’d usually eat, making a conscious decision to not put too much because he knows you’re not feeling well, your sensibilities shouldn’t falter. It really shouldn’t, but you find yourself swaying. Oh no.

You hear the click of his tongue. You haven’t taken the plate from him, so he’s set it back on the table and is now looking at you with his arms crossed, head tilted. “This won’t do,” he sighs. “We passed by a drug store earlier. What medicine do you take for your period cramps?”

Taehyun is already putting on a jacket and you panic, jumping out of your seat. “No, it’s okay! I’ll eat! I can eat!”

“Are you sure?” He’s unconvinced. You take the plate from the table and sit down with a huff, grabbing one of the skewers while you look at him dead in the eye. “Fine. Tell me if it gets bad. I’ll be with Yunjin and the rest.”

Your friend that your other friend is still hung up on versus your friend that’s completely emotionally unavailable— which one would be less disastrous? Which one would hurt less? Both seem awfully catastrophic, but your heart is stupid and doesn’t listen to your head when it gives a warning to stop falling. Stop. That’s enough, yet you find yourself in the same situation over and over again like you’re addicted to nonreciprocity or something.

Maybe it’s just period hormones, you try and rationalize. You finish the meal, albeit with difficulty, and lug yourself to the beach. Your legs are folded up to your chest, cheek pressed on your knees, and you’re scribbling random shapes into the sand to track every passing thought you’re going back and forth with inside your head.

“You look pathetic.”

When you turn around and look up, you see Jake looming over you like a rain cloud. Your expression sours. He quickly retracts himself. “Wait, I’m not saying it in an insulting way, but in a descriptive way, you know?”

“Just shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He plops down beside you, probably out of pity because in his words— you look pathetic. You have no energy to argue, wanting to bury yourself underneath the sand you’re sitting on more than anything else, and you spare an envious glance at the beer can he has in hand. Jake notices. “No room for a drink?”

You shake your head. “Unfortunately, no. I think I’ll be leaving early today.”

“Oh, me too,” he says. “Can’t stay overnight since I have to babysit my nieces tomorrow morning. Sunghoon has been complaining about the weather too. You can just come with us.”

“Thanks. Seriously, I feel like dying,” you groan. “Ugh. I wanted to go swimming today, too.”

“Next time,” he gives you a smile and gets up. “I’m heading back. Just wanted to check on you.” He gives you a head pat before running back to the cottage, and you’re left alone once more. You’ve come to the realization that the temporary solution to your wavering feelings is talking to your friends (except Taehyun), so you suck up the occasional pain from your lower abdomen and approach the nearest person you can find, which is Yunjin, obliterating the karaoke machine your group rented.

You alternate between listening to them sing, screaming into the microphone, and wallowing in your own suffering until late afternoon when you resigned into your cottage corner once more, waiting for Jake or Sunghoon to show up so you can leave. You’re chatting with the Shutter group chat when Taehyun shows up in fresh clothes, hair damp, and asks you to scoot away a bit.

He’s already organizing his things. He arrived with Jake and Sunghoon earlier, so he’s probably leaving with them too.  “Leaving already?” you ask to confirm.

“Oh, yeah,” he answers, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “You’re not feeling well, so you should just come with me. You don’t know how to commute by yourself, anyway.”

You scoff at his remark, unable to refute. “I am. Hold on, let me find my stuff.”

The thought of sinking into your warm sheets with some hot chocolate manages to bring a little more color to your face as you rummage for your things. You tell Yunjin and Kazuha that you’re leaving ahead with the guys, and they stop their passionate karaoke-ing to send you off with a hug. “Take care. Text us when you guys get home.”

It’s a silent walk to the resort’s exit, and there’s still no sign of Jake who’s supposed to be driving you. “Where are the rest of the guys?” you ask him, entering the parking area outside the entrance.

“Hm?”

“Jake and Sunghoon,” you clarify hesitantly. Worry and nervousness starts to seep in. You’re starting to believe that you might have misunderstood something.

“I think they were kayaking when we left,” Taehyun replies. “Why?”

“I thought we were all leaving together?” you furrow your brows.

“No? I think they’ll leave after sundown.”

You screwed up big time. You’re chewing on your bottom lip, the situation slowly sinking in as you and Taehyun leave the resort’s premises and start walking down the side of the road to the bus stop. Oh no. You came here in Yunjin’s car and Taehyun doesn’t drive. That means you and Taehyun are going to be spending the three-hour commute back home together. Alone. Just when you started to suspect the traitorous feelings you have bubbling for your friend.

“Give me your bag. You look like you’d pass out any minute.”

You’re seriously so fucking screwed.

“Thanks.”

It’s okay, you tell yourself upon climbing up the bus, taking a seat near the back next to the window. Maybe it’s just a momentary weakness of your heart. Maybe it’s just a temporary vulnerability with all the things going on. Maybe you’ve just become pathetically desperate like Jake says (he did not). Taehyun leans over and you silently panic. He reaches over to the window next to you, flipping it open, then goes back to his seat like he didn’t just threaten to give you a cardiac arrest. “The air conditioning might make you nauseous,” he says. You’re nauseous enough as is.

The commute back home is quiet, but you aren’t able to rest easily throughout the whole three-hours due to your consciousness toward the friend sitting next to you. At least you managed to arrive back in Seoul in one piece.

It’s already dark out, street lights lit up in the city. Thinking that you can finally say goodbye to him, you tug your bag that’s firmly hung on his shoulder. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“We take different buses from here,” you say. “Thanks for carrying my stuff.”

Your bus makes a halt in front of you, and Taehyun goes up first. Wait. Holy shit. “If anything happens to you, Yunjin will have my head,” he simply says. “C’mon.”

Maybe you just catch feelings too easily, you conclude. You hope you can get rid of them just as quickly as you caught them.

You spend the first week of winter break in bed, on the sofa, on any warm and comfortable surface available in your apartment. It’s both out of need and out of choice— need, because an entire year of being around people is enough to run someone dry, and choice, because there is a good number of people you’ve been wanting to avoid, now that you aren’t forced by proximity and circumstance to be around them.

The same routine is happening for the last Sunday of the year. You’re in bed as the afternoon sun provokes you to do otherwise, but you aren’t listening. Your blankets and pillows bury you in their warmth while you’re scrolling through your phone. Until Taehyun gives you a call, out of nowhere.

“Hello?” you answer after three rings.

“I’m having dinner with your crush later,” he says, not bothering to greet you. “Well. We’re eating with his family. I’ll send you the restaurant. Why don’t you stop by so you can see him for a bit.”

He’s a little too supportive of your tiny, expired crush on Huening. “I told you guys, I’m over him. I’m looking for another crush,” that isn’t the person you’re talking to right now. This whole situation would be funny if you aren’t part of it. Too bad you are, and it makes you want to stab yourself.

“But what if you fall for him again once you see him.”

What’s stupid is that you don’t think he’s wrong. You were hardwired with a heart that gets swayed way too quickly, flutters a little too effortlessly, and gets smashed into tiny bits and pieces a little too easily, but it’s not something that you can just stop. The past year is proof of that— a testament of its inevitability.

“Go away. I’m going to sleep,” you roll to your side with a groan, pulling up the covers over your head. “Enjoy your dinner. Please stop trying to set me up with your friend.”

You hoped your college romance would be a straight path from meeting someone, to falling in love, to being loved back. Not this messy labyrinth of dead ends, twisted intersections, and back to starts.

“Who’s calling this time?!” If it’s Taehyun again, you’re going to uncrush and unfriend him, you swear.

With a groan, you grab your phone from the bedside table once more, and you nearly drop your phone when you see the caller ID. You didn’t think you’d ever ask for this, but can’t all these pretty boys please leave you alone this time?

“Choi Soobin,” you huff into the microphone.“This better not be about work.”

You’re nervous. There’s that familiar staggering of your heart rate again. “I’m guessing you’re enjoying your vacation,” you hear him say with a laugh. Something about hearing his deep voice so close to your ear is driving you insane.

“I am,” you reply, falling back to bed. “You usually just text me. You’ve never called me before. This is suspicious.”

He hums. “I text you if it’s about work.”

“So...this isn’t about work?”

Soobin is quiet for a moment, and you can feel the silence embed itself into your skin. You feel a jolt when you hear his voice again. “Are you busy? I just remembered that you owe me dinner.”

Now, it’s you that grows quiet.

“Sorry. If you’re too busy, you don’t have to—”

“No, I’m free,” you quickly reply. “Let’s have dinner.”

This could be an opportunity. Maybe if you go out with Soobin today, you'll finally clear up how you actually feel— for whom you are actually feeling. There is a possibility that you’ll return home with a heart more confused than when you left, but your racing heart is already chasing you out of bed.

“Can we meet at COEX in an hour?”

“Sounds good. See you.”

Shit, you’re actually doing this. You end up arriving ten minutes too early, but Soobin is already there, by the fountain, looking at his phone. “Choi Soobin!” you call out, and he looks up with a surprised look on his face, but melts into a smile half a second later. He shoots up his hand, waving, and calls out your full name in the same manner.

“You’re here early.”

“Says the guy who’s here earlier than me,” you raise a brow.

“I had some errands,” he says. “Where should we eat?”

It’s the end of the year, so the mall is more populated than usual. Mostly couples. There’s a pair in knitwear sitting on the fountain literally a few steps away from you. It’s like god is giving you a sign, telling you to hurry the fuck up. “You choose. I’m the one treating you.”

The both of you start walking around, eyes scanning through the shops lined along the walkways. “I can eat anywhere. I’m not picky.”

“Choi Soobin, you know I’m bad with decisions,” you tell him. “You’re the one who dragged me out of my apartment in the first place.”

“You’re making it sound like I forced you to eat with me.”

You stop in your tracks. “Wow,” you gasp. “You’re putting words in my mouth, Choi Soobin. How dare you when I generously decided to open my wallet for you.”

His smile opens into a toothy grin. “What’s with the face?”

“Nothing,” he hums, settling his hands on your shoulders and lightly pushing you into a direction. “Let’s eat here. Mingyu hyung recommended this place before.”

It’s a Chinese restaurant with an interior that you might have seen on social media before (maybe Mingyu’s insta, to be honest). The both of you are sitting at one of the center tables, tubes of lights hanging from above as you peruse through their menu. When your orders arrive, you split apart your chopsticks, staring heartily at the served meal. “For the record,” you say before digging in.“I do want to eat with you.”

“Thanks for the information.”

“You know, you’re kind of annoying sometimes.”

Soobin lets out a huff of air, smiling with stuffed cheeks and the both of you proceed with your meals. You can only hear the sound of your dishes and the occasional glass clatters. It’s literally just dinner. “So,” you mumble out. “Why did you join Shutter?”

He elicits a snort-cough, and he brings a napkin to his lips. “What is this? An interview?”

“It got quiet and I didn’t know what to say!” you press. “Just answer.”

“You’d know if you listened to my introduction at the welcome party,” he crows.“You already liked Beomgyu at that time, right?”

The food stops in your throat, caught off guard because why would he bring that up? You cough, swallowing a large gulp of water and when you set the glass back on the table, you look at him straight in the eye. “First of all— even if I was paying attention, I wouldn’t even remember because that was months ago.”

“I remember yours,” he says, as a matter of fact. “You said you wanted a space apart from your major, and that it’d make your university life a lot more exciting.”

Well. You can’t verify that because you don’t remember what you said at that time. You were too occupied staring at Beomgyu. “Se—second!” you bristle. “How did you know that I already liked him then? I don’t think I’ve ever told you.”

“Your eyes were following him the entire night. It’s like there’s a magnet in there somewhere.”

You stop eating altogether, utensils clattering on the plate. Wouldn’t that mean his eyes were following you, too? He didn’t even think twice before saying that, and now he’s back to picking on the remaining food on his plate like it’s nothing, and your phone buzzes like a warning signal.

“What’s wrong?” Soobin asks as you frown at your phone screen.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have talked about Shutter,” you complain. “Mingyu messaged the group chat. He’s asking if anyone can run some errands for the event.”

At first, the plan was to have a year-end party and a sensitivity training (“sensi” for short) for the officers, but with the majority of your members returning home to their hometowns for the holidays, you decided to merge the two events in the second week of January instead. Mingyu is eyeing Gapyeong for the party and sensi, and the itinerary has already been prepared by Myungho.

Soobin hums in acknowledgement. “What does he need?”

It’s the 31st of December. Most shops will be closed tomorrow and the next day. There are still some materials that need to be bought, so your Chairperson is asking if there’s anyone who can pick up some stuff from the list. “Ugh,” you groan, finishing up your meal. “No one else is replying and I already read his message. You don’t mind if we stop by some stores, right?”

“Not at all,” he replied. “I borrowed my brother’s car, so I can take the stuff home with me.”

The both of you leave the restaurant and enter a stationery store to pick up some vellum boards, parchment papers, envelopes, and the like. You need to go back to the office within the week for some last minute work— so much for the new year, but aside from some light hearted complaints, you don’t really mind. “Can you check if there’s some sticker paper in the other aisle?” you ask Soobin. The both of you still need to finalize the certificate designs and the tarpaulin sign. You’ll remind him once he gets back.

After double checking your basket, you check out all the items and send Mingyu the receipt. “What else do we need?” asks Soobin. He takes the paper bags from the counter and you two exit the store.

“Uh. We need some wooden panels. They probably have those in hardware stores, right?”

Lucky for you, they do. You and Soobin wait behind a wall of fake plants as the employee leaves to cut the panels into the size Mingyu instructed and as you’re waiting, you let your gaze wander around the store until you look up and pause when your eyes land on your tall friend. You’ve never noticed before, but Choi Soobin actually looks pretty intimidating with a straight face. He’s staring off into space, brows in a slight knit, but when he looks down and notices that you’re looking at him, he lifts his eyebrows, curious, and a dimple peeks through when he presses his lips together. “What is it?”

You cough, looking away. “We haven’t talked about this yet. I remember you telling me you liked someone last summer.”

“Mm, right. I did,” he says.

Hesitant, you drawl out. “Do you still like the same person now?”

“Yeah.” He says it flatly, picking on the plastic leaf of a plant hanging above you. You cock your head. He’s way too nonchalant about this that you start to second guess.

“Is that why you couldn’t give Yura a chance?”

“It would be unfair for her when I have feelings for someone else.”

“I know. And Yura isn’t telling me to distance myself from you or anything. I know we haven’t hung out lately outside of Shutter, but trust me it’s not because of that,” you assure. “Did you tell her who you like?”

He looks at you. “I did.”

“Do you plan on telling me?” you blurt out before hesitation smashes into you. You avoid eye contact, trying to justify yourself, “It’s not fair that you’re a witness to all of my romantic pitfalls in the first half of the year, but I don’t even know the person you like.”

You know you’re blabbing. You know Soobin knows because he’s flashing you a cheeky smile. “Do you wanna know?”

“Of course. I’m curious.” You hope he doesn’t notice you’re trying to bait him. Half of you wants to hear your name fall from his lips, rolling off his tongue like it’s meant to be, and you’d be untangled from your confusing feelings, but the other half is scared because you wouldn’t know how to react. You’re still in the fucking hardware store, for god’s sake, waiting for the god damned wood panels to arrive.

“Why?”

Suddenly, he dips down his head, noses closer than ever, and you gulp. “Why do you wanna know?” No words leave your throat and you can’t hear anything other than the deep, reverberating thumps from inside your chest. Soobin backs away before anything else, a smile still present on his lips. “You’ll find out. I haven’t been doing my best to hide it, anyway.”

The employee returns with the panels. You pay for them and it’s late into the evening when you exit into the parking lot and load all the items you bought into his (brother’s) car’s compartment. “I’ll drop you off,” he says, closing down the trunk.

“Thanks,” you reply, and he smiles, shooing you into the passenger’s seat.

It sinks in belatedly, when you’re already a few songs into his driving playlist, that you haven’t given Soobin your address but he’s going in the right direction. He didn’t even ask. Confirming your suspicions, he pulls up right in front of your apartment building, and the doors unlock with a click. “How’d you know where I live?” you raise a brow.

“When Myungho hyung gave us a ride last time,” he answers. “He dropped you off first. Did you think I was stalking you?”

“No. I just wanted to tease you, but you’ve been turning the tables on me all day,” you roll your eyes, unbuckling yourself from the seat. “You used to be so nervous and quiet all the time. Choi Soobin, you’ve grown.”

You thank him for the ride and push open the door, squirming to get off but Soobin suddenly grabs your wrist, and you jerk your head back, surprised. It’s warm where his fingers are wrapped around, a firm grip that feels a lot more intimate than when he was all up in your space at the festival, than when you fell to the ground with his arms around your waist.

He appears to be just as surprised as you are, but the words quickly come pouring out. “I’m still nervous. It took me four tries to give your number a call earlier and I was so relieved when you actually picked up,” he confesses. “I was nervous during dinner, nervous all throughout the car ride, and I’m still nervous now.” You can feel that his hand is slightly damp, circling around yours. “I just wanted to let you know before you go.”

When Soobin lets go, you can feel the cold air nipping at your skin from where he’s been holding. You made the right choice in going out today. Things are a lot clearer now.

The feelings you have for Choi Soobin aren’t sudden— an onslaught of petals from blossoming trees, heat waves from the corshing midday sun, orange fireworks on the cobblestone ground, or the gusts of wind from a December evening that hit you without warning. It’s gradual, accumulated over the seasons in the form of spring showers that extend into the ber months, a summer cold you can’t get rid of, the fall sweater you have nestled inside your closet until flowers start blooming, and the warmth that comforts when the rest of the world freezes into oblivion.

They’ve been building up— slowly but surely until the glass is tipped over, spilling into your veins, and you can’t deny it anymore.

“Thanks for today,” you give him a smile. “Drive safe. Text me when you get home.”

“Will do. Happy new year.”

“Happy new year.”

You wait until he disappears into the street before getting inside the building. Choi Soobin has been your spring, summer, autumn, and winter. It took the last day of the year for you to realize that.

It’s the day before your trip with Shutter to Gapyeong. You’ve already finished all your assigned tasks, so you’re able to hang out with your friends at Jay’s place today. For the meantime, you’re all treating his condo as if it’s your own.

“Let’s watch a movie,” Jake suggests. He’s laying flat on the sofa, his head next to yours while you sit on the carpet, destroying Sunghoon’s ass in a game of chess. When no one replies, everyone else busy doing their own things to even hear him, he gives up and falls to the floor next to you. “You’re leaving tomorrow, right?”

“Yup. Checkmate, Hoonie,” you reply, killing Sunghoon’s king and gloating your victory.

“You all ready to go?” he asks. “I can help you pack if you haven’t.”

“How bored are you, Jake?” you laugh at him. “Yunjin and Kazuha already promised to help me later, but I guess you can tag along.” He looks satisfied with the arrangement, and he wiggles off of the floor to dig through Jay’s kitchen.

Well. You’re almost ready for the trip tomorrow. But besides packing, there’s still one thing you need to settle within yourself before facing your friends and colleagues from Shutter again. “Guys,” you announce after cleaning up the chess set. “Can I tell you something?”

“Is it a new crush?” Kazuha asks, and you hear Taehyun snort. You can neither confirm nor deny her accusation. When did you become so predictable?

“Let’s say I like someone,” you start, and your friends start gathering in the living room, ready to listen to the new boy of the season. “And all signs are saying that he likes me too.” This elicits a gasp from Yunjin and a very obnoxious oooooh from Jake.

“Depends on the signs,” Jake snorts. “Have you been watching tarot readings on TikTok again?”

“Fuck you. I stopped doing that when Yeonjun ghosted me,” you shoot him a glare, and he raises his hands up defensively. “But anyway. It’s already like— really, seriously, obvious that he likes me and all that’s left is for him to say it himself—”

“Ask him out already.”

“But I have a friend who also likes him.” They grow quiet. “What should I do?”

Kazuha is the first person to speak up. “Does she know the guy is into you instead?”

“We’re assuming he’s into me. He rejected her saying he likes someone else,” you explain. “But I don’t think she’s over him yet.”

“Here I thought your love life is finally turning around,” Yunjin groans.

“I can’t fully entertain him without the underlying feeling of guilt because my friend was literally crying over him when they were out for drinks the other day!” you pause, then clarify your statement. “I wasn’t there when it happened. Mingyu told me. It would’ve been terrible if I was there.”

Taehyun sinks into the sofa handle, arms crossed in thought. “This is a little complicated.”

“Right?” you sigh, deflating into the cushions. “Maybe I should just give up. Maybe romance isn’t for me.”

“It’s literally not that complicated, you idiots.” Sunghoon speaks up for the first time, and you look at him. His expression is that of annoyance, mainly direction towards you, and he continues, “If you think he’s worth risking your friendship, then go for it. But if a boy is enough to ruin your friendship, then your friendship is bullshit. Go talk to her first and I’m sure she’ll understand. Maybe it’ll even get her to move on.”

“Holy shit,” Jay gapes. “Why are you making sense for once?”

He’s right. Sunghoon is making sense. Yet there’s still a lingering hesitation clawing at your throat and preventing you from agreeing. “But what if I’m just being delusional and he doesn’t actually like m—”

“Be honest.” Taehyun cuts you off before you could spiral. “Are you hesitant because you’re afraid of hurting your friend, or are you afraid now that the real thing is waiting in front of you?”

Quiet washes the apartment as your friends allow you to simmer in Taehyun’s words. Throughout the past year, you’ve always been the one pouring out love from all your senses, so much and so often that you’re afraid you’d run out, but you never do. It just keeps on pouring and pouring— a momentary stop— but it gushes out again like a perpetual fountain of red. Now that there are hints of the roles reversing, you’ve froze. You know that you’re using Yura too much as an excuse to justify yourself.

You’re always the one pouring— never the one receiving, and now you have no idea what to do.

IT STARTED AS A LIGHT SHOWER, but in the middle of the bus ride to Gapyeong, the rain begins to pour, harder and harder to the point that you can hear it through the music in your earphones. You pull out the buds, looking at the window. “Damn, I guess we have to cancel the outdoor activities today,” you say, and Mingyu overhears from in front of you.

“Let’s hope it stops raining in the afternoon,” he sighs, worried. “We can’t have a barbecue party indoors.”

You’re sitting beside Yura. The girl is already fast asleep, understandable since you all met at five in the morning to do some last minute organizing at the office. It’s now ten in the morning, thirty minutes until you arrive at the place, and the rain is showing no signs of stopping. Mingyu senses the grayness in the air and picks up a megaphone, spits out a generic “let’s have some fun!” message, and proceeds to play some tunes.

It works, because through the rest of the ride to Gapyeong, you’re all screaming Taylor Swift lyrics loud enough to block off the hissing rain, so when the bus stops in front of the place you guys rented for two days and one night, you’re surprised it’s still pouring.

“Well, shit,” you say underneath your umbrella, Mingyu pathetically trying to shrink his frame to fit alongside you, and you reach an arm out from under its protection, feeling the cold droplets soaking your skin. “This is gonna last a while.”

“We should all have lunch first,” he says. “This is gonna be fine. We have a lot prepared.”

You nod. “You guys get inside first,” he says before running off into the second bus that arrived to give Myungho some instructions.

You peek into the bus, “Those with umbrellas, please share with those who don’t. It’s a short run to the accommodation. Please don’t forget to bring your valuables with you.” You watch by the doors as your orgmates leave in two’s and three’s uphill, and you can feel yourself starting to get damp due to the unstable direction of the rainfall.

The last person comes out, and he ducks underneath your umbrella. It’s Soobin. Your eye’s meet, and he’s wearing a sheepish grin. Before you know it, he’s got his hand wrapped on yours, tightly clutching the umbrella handle and suddenly, puddles are splashing underneath your feet as you run into the same direction. A squeak escapes your throat when you hear the rain pour harder, and Soobin pulls you closer with his free hand as the rain threatens to soak you.

“Are you two shooting a youth drama?”

You’re out of breath when you reach the porch of the large house, but you still manage to shoot Heeseung a dirty look for that comment. You glance at Soobin, who still has your umbrella. He’s ruffling his hair and shaking his head like a wet puppy. “I’ll go grab the boxes from the bus. Can I borrow this for a while?” You nod, and he smiles. “Come and help me,” he drags the unwilling Heeseung back into the pouring rain, and you turn back, nudging everyone to get inside the house once they’ve dried up.

“Oh, look who we have here,” you turn to see Jeonghan, walking back out with two mops from the house. “You look pretty happy for someone who just got rained on.”

Your eyes land on Yura, and guilt settles when you catch her expression before she goes back to smiling at Jeonghan and takes the other mop from him. You plan on having a conversation with her later, and you plan on settling everything today. “The day will come where I’ll eventually kick your ass, seonbae. Please reflect on your sins until then.” You bid him off with a bland smile, and you settle inside the warm floors of the room.

It’s two houses connected to each other, two floors each, large enough for twenty to thirty people in total. Mingyu says he’s unsure if there will be enough room upstairs for everyone to sleep in, but there are some that won’t be staying overnight, and you’re sure that the sleeping arrangements will be wherever everyone ends up passing out after getting alcohol-bombed throughout the night.

“Alright, everyone please gather around!”

Mingyu’s voice pierces through the dozens of conversations happening at once. It’s a miracle that the rain is finally letting up after you finish your lunch. “T-shirts are distributed by size so please line up in front of the assigned officers. You can change immediately after receiving yours.”

You’re only able to change into the Shutter shirt after handing out everything from your pile. You happen to bump into Beomgyu after changing, walking down the stairs. “Cute. The shirt looks good on you.” You’re taken aback, but you laugh out a smile.

“Thanks. Did you get yours yet?”

“No. Mingyu hyung is holding it hostage upstairs.”

“Good luck,” you tell him. “I’ll go set up the projector.”

You hop down the last set of steps and are immediately blocked by Soobin when you turn to the living room, bumping into him. “Oh,” you look up. “Were you here the whole time?”

“I was waiting for you,” he says, picking on a stray thread from your shirt collar, and he flicks it off to the side. “I couldn’t find the file for the presentation.”

“Ah, it’s with me. Hold on.”

You drag Soobin into the little tech-area you set up in the living space, passing through the lights the machine is projecting at the white cloth set up against a wall. As you’re tinkering on the laptop, looking for the PPT you made somewhere in the chaos of your files, Soobin is leaning down and watching you work, one arm outstretched on the back of your chair to balance himself. “I thought I didn’t like him anymore,” he says out of nowhere. You stop digging through your files and look up at him— oh, Beomgyu— then resume. His face tells you that it’s just to provoke you, but you entertain his provocations anyway.

“I don’t,” you reply. “But I do like being called cute.”

“Hmm,” he sounds out. “That’s right. Yeonjun hyung called you cute, too.”

You cough out a noise. “What are you getting at, Choi Soobin?”

He laughs at the dirty look you’re giving him. “I just wanted to say that I think you’re cute too.”

For someone who admitted that he gets nervous sweats around you, he sure is getting shameless and bold. You ignore the heat prickling at your cheeks, slamming your hands down the table after opening up the presentation, and leaving into the kitchen to get some of the lemon water Myungho made. If Mingyu were to see you right now, he’d be having a mother fucking field day. Thank god he’s busy keeping everything in check.

“Alright, it’s time to officially start Shutter.TXT’s new year’s party and sensitivity training! We’ll begin with an opening message from our very own Chairperson, Kim Mingyu, and after that, the anonymous message table will be opened once more. Chair, you have the floor.”

Beomgyu and Yura are hosting today (after the last event, you’re sure Mingyu decided that hosting isn’t for him). You’re back next to Soobin, helping him manage the technicals, and the afternoon passes by with the various party games you guys prepared— with prizes, of course because no one would join without an incentive. The screen is projecting a picture of Yoon Jeonghan as a baby and everyone yells out their names, hands raised to guess who the pudgy gremlin is. He didn’t submit the photo, of course. You had to dig into his mother’s Facebook account to find it.

“Correct! The answer is our Business Manager, Yoon Jeonghan!” You click to the next slide as Chan runs up front to get his prize. “Before we head to picking the raffle winners sponsored by our Chair, let’s take a break and pick out some messages from the confession box first!”

Your memory flashes back to one confession you got last time, and your eyes flash up at Soobin. “Did you send anything?” you ask him.

“Maybe I did,” he hums. “You?”

“I didn’t have the time,” you reply, a smile tugging on your lips. “So I might just end up doing it in person.”

Your attention is caught when you hear Beomgyu read one of the messages into the microphone, and you hear your full name echoing through the speakers. “Ohhh, this one’s for our Assistant Layout Director!” and he repeats for your full name once more. You look at Soobin, but choose not to say anything when he’s so intently waiting for Beomgyu to read out loud the message. “I’ve liked you since March of last year and my feelings have only grown as each month passes. What other signs should I give you?” He’s practically pouring his heart into your lap and you’ve been so stupid as to ignore it with every passing season.

“Alright, alright, everyone please settle down, I know that last one was thrilling but we have another confession for—”

The rest of the activities finished without a hitch, and Heeseung managed to win the ramen cooker Mingyu bought as the grand prize for the raffle. When the sun fell and stars started settling in the sky, the front yard finally dried up enough for everyone to set up for dinner.

“Hyung! Come take over the grill!”

Smoke fills the air as you bump glasses over the picnic table, and soft music hums from the portable speakers Beomgyu brought. The night is cool, still stuck in the middle of winter. You leave a pat on Chan’s shoulder before you leave the group, passing by the large blue cooler near the grill to scoop up two beer cans before sauntering over to the downslope path.

There isn’t a staircase, so you’re careful with your steps, slightly buzzed from the early shots you had earlier. Your eyes land on Yura, sitting on the grassy knoll while staring off into the treeline. “Hey,” you greet her, and she looks up behind. You raise the blue can, smiling. “Brought something to refresh our emcee’s throat. You did a great job today.”

She smiles.“Thanks. You too.”

You take a seat next to her on the ground and your cans open together with a hiss, clinking lid tops before taking a hefty swig in mutual silence. After a while, you speak up. “We’re both working too hard,” you say. “But we didn’t even get to win a single damned prize from the raffle.”

“I would’ve been happy with the box of tampons, honestly,” she laughs.

“Me too. Even the dead matchstick would be good enough.”

The tree leaves rustle when a breeze passes. You know what you came up to her for, but you don’t know how to bring it up. The metal is cold between your teeth as you ponder, biting on the beer can after you let the drink sizzle down your throat.

Much to your surprise, it’s Yura that brings it up. “I want to tell you that I’m completely over Soobin,” she says. “I should’ve moved on after the first rejection, but I think the second one was enough to give me a reality check.”

You stare at her. “Are— are you serious?”

“Just pretend and believe that I am. Don’t ask questions,” he proclaims, closing her eyes with an affirmative nod. You can see her veins popping on the back of her hand as she holds the can.“Yup. So don’t hold yourself back anymore and do whatever you want.” You eye her in worry. It doesn’t go past her radar. Yura settles the drink on the ground beside her and grabs your two hands.

She pulls them close to her, smiling. “We’re friends. I’ll always be happy for you.”

You don’t need her to say it outright. Maybe it’s better for her that way. Your hands wrap around her and you give her a squeeze. “Thanks.”

“Ah,” she starts cocking her head. “This should’ve happened sooner. Gosh, I need another drink. Let’s go raid the cooler.”

With that she pulls you up and drags you back to the rest of your peers. As soon as you’re within earshot, Mingyu calls out the both of you to eat more, boasting how nicely he grilled the beef this time. “We’ll be the judge of that!” Yura yells back, and you spend the rest of the night with a few weeks worth of weight on your chest finally lifted, making it easier for you to breathe in the clean air of the rural neighborhood.

Your initial predictions are right. At three in the morning, almost everyone is passed out scattered areas of the two houses, and you’re having a bit of difficulty trying to evade the obstacle of bodies when you enter the living room after cleaning up outside. I doubt we could go through with the program in the morning, you think when you pass by Beomgyu’s unconscious body hanging onto Heeseung as you make your way up the stairs to wash up. Waking everyone up would take at least two hours.

It’s a lot more civilized upstairs. Some of the girls gathered in one room and are sleeping soundly on the mats and blankets. You do your best to keep quiet as you prepare for the night, but even after bathing and giving yourself a change of clothes, the moonlight from the open window keeps you up with its brightness. You give up sleeping and head back downstairs. There, you see a familiar silhouette snuggled up on the couch and taking up all of its space. He’s squirming when you walk up to him, tugging the blanket that’s half on the ground, and you let out a soundless laugh.

You’re on the floor watching Soobin’s face scrunch up as he sleeps. His mouth is pouting, and one of his arms hangs off the sofa when he turns, facing you. You bring your knees closer to your chest. He’s pretty even when sleeping.

Right when you plan on leaving, you hear him mumble out your name— in full, like he always does. It’s barely coherent, a slur of syllables, but you can recognize your name in his voice. “You’re still awake...?” he asks, rubbing his barely open eyes. You settle yourself back down with a smile, hugging your knees.

“Mhm,” you reply. “I was thinking.”

He’s still half-asleep. You can tell when tries getting up but he only makes it a few inches up the sofa before his head surrenders to the armrest. You shouldn’t be making any noise. There’s at least five more people sleeping in the room, but a noise escapes in spite of your tightly pressed lips when his fallen arm reaches out for your hand, looping his index finger with your pinky. “What were you thinking about?”

Your hands fiddle around with his, tracing invisible shapes on each print and surface as his hazy eyes flutter back and forth in between wake and sleep. “I was thinking about how much I like you,” you say softly. “That’s why I couldn’t sleep.”

Silence befalls, and you’re sure he’s dozed off again. But when you turn to check on him, his eyes are fully open, wide awake. You’re still holding his hand, waiting for something to happen, and that something happens when you feel his gentle but firm grip on your wrist, pulling you up from the ground and your footsteps patter against the moonlight leaking into the wooden living room floor, until a sharp cold bites your feet when you enter the kitchen.

“Okay,” he exhales with a voice clearer than his earlier murmurs, still holding your hand. It’s dark. You can barely see anything, but there’s enough light from the window to make-up Soobin’s silhouette, and you’re still breathless from the sudden sprint. “I’ll give you five seconds to take back what you said, but if you—”

It’s soft, you think. So soft, when adrenaline takes over you and you jerk forward, lips clumsily bumping into each other in exhilaration. Soobin’s wide eyes are staring into yours, and neither are moving away. You’re not sure if it’s your own heart beat you’re hearing, his, or the both of yours thumping in an unfamiliar rhythm.

“Is someone there?”

You’re tugged away again, and before you know it you’re crouched under a table, and all the light you can see are the streams pouring underneath the small gap between the floor and the tablecloth.

“Did you hear something?”

“I thought there was someone here.”

Your eyes flash up from the ground and you’re once again met with Soobin’s clear gaze. It’s a small table, and Soobin is trying his hardest not to collapse onto you. His arms cage you in between, and you cover his head with your hands so he doesn’t bump against the table.

“Probably from outside.”

You can only guess your expression right now. It’s probably mirroring his— panting ever the slightest, trying his best not to smile too much, trying to soak in the moment that’s been months in the waiting.

It’s the first time your apartment has been this loud.

You don’t know what you got yourself into. A merger between your friends from your major and your friends from Shutter was a disaster waiting to happen. And it is happening. Beomgyu and Taehyun shouldn’t have met, Myungho shouldn’t be drinking with Jay and the rest right now, and you can hear Mingyu talking shit about how he knew you and Soobin were meant to be from the very beginning to every person he sees.

“I’ve been shipping them since day one!” he proclaims proudly to Jake. “Your friend wouldn’t believe me when I—” and your boyfriend promptly tells him to shut up, Jeonghan teasing him along with Heesung.

“When I saw them at the festival, I knew something was up!”

“I made a mistake,” you say out loud. “Holy crap, this is noisy.”

Then you’re dragged by the girls for questioning when Yunjin and Kazuha spill to Yura your series of unfortunate romantic events last year until Soobin happened. “You guys are missing a detail,” you sigh. “It’s time to be honest. I also had a crush on Taehyun for a total of like, two days.”

“What?” exclaims Yunjin?

“What?” echoes the rest of your friends.

“Hold on, when did this happen?” Soobin is back to your side. You haven’t told him either. He only knows up until Huening.

“Christmas party. It was a temporary moment of weakness because I was sad and hormonal,” you explain. “Don’t look at me like that, Choi Soobin. It didn’t last long. Things became clear when we went out for dinner on new year’s eve.”

You hear a gag from Sunghoon and Yunjin freaks out. “You had dinner together?! How come I wasn’t aware of this?”

“Ew, I can’t believe you had a crush on one of us,” spouts Jay, but Jake quickly turns it against him.

“Like you’re one to talk. You had a crush on her throughout the first week of classes.”

“Now, why the fuck would you tell her that?”

They fight. You take the opportunity to escape the scene, dragging Soobin to the safe space of your room before you can get a headache from the mess outside. “I think I should’ve just introduced you to them one by one,” you sigh against the door. “I’m sorry. They must’ve been tiring.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he assures, already taking a spot on the floor beside your bed. “Of course, it’s still better when it’s just you and me.”

Slowly, you pull yourself off the door and plant yourself right in front of him, sitting cross legged. He waits for you to speak, eyes expectant. You give in. “Are you upset that I didn’t tell you about my two day crush on Taehyun?” You didn’t expect him to laugh at that.

“No. I’m actually glad you didn’t,” he starts. Soobin leans forward a little, picking up your hands from the floor and he starts twiddling with them as he lets his mind speak. “I was always hesitant to do or say anything because you always had your eyes set on someone else, but I just couldn’t do nothing. I liked you a lot, and I only fell deeper as we got closer. I thought I might explode if I didn’t let it out somehow. I only got the courage to call you that day because I thought you didn’t have feelings for anybody anymore,”

“But I did,” you correct. “I’m pretty sure I already liked you then.”

You pause for a moment. “Actually, I’m sure I liked you even before that.”

He breathes out a smile. “I’m glad.” Soobin lets go of you— only for a moment because he lets himself sink forward, arms locking you in place like the time you were trapped under the table during the Shutter outing. It’s late at night, too. Nothing but the moon illuminating the floorboards through your bedroom window, except this time, your eyes aren’t looking at each other. You follow his gaze, and you let out a little laugh. “Choi Soobin,” you call out, and his eyes snap back up. “You know, you can kiss me if you want to, right?”

It’s like he said. He gets nervous around you. You can see him swallow hesitantly, the air around you growing thicker, and he breathes out, “Are— are you sure?”

You dip your fingers into his hair, and he chases after when you trail them down to his cheek. His face is soft, softer than a gentle spring bloom. “You can do whatever you want."

Soobin presses his lips together. “Then...close your eyes”

Your eyes follow, and within a few seconds you can feel nothing but the teasing burn of his lips barely grazing above yours like it’s the summer sun, but then feel his grip on your shoulder, and the air gets colder when you suddenly feel a distance.

He’s red when you open your eyes, a pretty shade of warm, autumn sienna painting his cheeks and ears. “Sorry, I just—”

You don’t let him finish. You pull yourself into him and the plush of his lips are soft against yours— still as soft as you remember and you let yourself drown in his heat and warmth, and he does the same, tugging you onto his lap so he can pour all his year’s worth of love and ardor into you with every kiss, peck, whisper like it’s a winter present.

“You’re really doing whatever you want,” you laugh as soon as he presses a kiss on the skin peeking from your left shoulder.

“I’ve been holding back for months,” he whines into your neck, arms firmly wrapped around your waist with no intention of letting go. “Let’s stay here for a little longer. The guys outside can take care of themselves.”

Choi Soobin has been pouring his love into you all throughout spring and summer, fall and winter, even when you were too caught up in momentary shifts of the season to notice. Now, you won’t even let a drop fall astray, catching every last bit as you do the same for him. He’s a spring shower that extends into December, a summer cold you never want to get rid of, a fall sweater you’re wearing in the middle of May, and the cold nights that visit all throughout the year.

love vomit. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#tomorrow x together x reader #txt x reader #choi soobin x reader #soobin x reader #txt soobin x reader #tomorrow x together scenarios #choi soobin scenarios #txt soobin scenarios #txt scenarios #choi soobin au #choi soobin fanfic

[joeybsversion]

Pathetic

Joe Burrow x Reader

Joe and reader see each other again years later

“Well thanks, Michelle! It was good to see you.” You smile and grab your bag from the older ladies hands. “I’m glad we caught up on the Athens, Ohio drama.” You laughed.

“Good to see you too. Don’t wait 5 years before you come back next time!” She called after you.

You were back in your home town, Athens, OH for the weekend dealing with a family dilemma. Athens was a small town, it really only had 2 main roads, both lines with gas stations, locally owned shops, and a few hotels. You grew up shopping at this same grocery store. Michelle had worked here since you were little and she recognized you the second you walked in. It was great to catch up with an old friend, but you were ready to escape this little town. You had stopped to grab a few things before heading to the hotel across the street for the night.

With another quick smile and wave, you pressed your back against the door to open it before it was quickly pulled away from you, causing you to lose your balance and almost fall backwards.

“Shit. Sorry!” Familiar hands reached up and helped steady you.

“Its ok.” You turned and were immediately frozen in shock. “Joe.” You gasped.

“What… oh my go—“ he nervously fiddled with his hands. “Hey.” He greeted you, clearly caught off guard. “What are you doing here?”

“Family stuff.” You nervously spit out. “What about you? Don’t you have practice or something?” You questioned.

“Bye week. Came home to support the local football team in play offs.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Are you staying at your parents?”

“No. Actually have a room at the hotel across the street.” You nodded your head in that direction. “I know it’s not the fanciest but it has a bed, and TV, and AC..” you nervously blabber. “Actually was just headed back to grab a drink and some dinner.”

Joe turned to look at the hotel before his eyes met yours again. “I’ll walk you over there.”

“Joe.” You laughed. “It’s literally 50 feet away. I’ll be fine.”

“I know… I just… would you… do you wanna catch up? Let me buy you a drink. It’s been what? 5 years since we’ve seen each other?” His eyes anxiously look around.

“Yeah sure.” You smile. “We probably have some catching up to do.”

You and Joe had dated for 4 years before you both left for colleges across the country from each other. He was now an NFL Quarterback and you were a wedding photographer. The breakup was messy, neither of you really got closure, and you hadn’t spoken since.

You followed Joe across the street and slid into the booth across from him. The room was dimly lit, the table sticky with booze, and the waitress was nosy. It was clear she recognized Joe, but he gave her one look after she dropped off your first round of drinks and made it clear she wouldn’t bother you both.

“So.” He cleared his throat. “How have you been? What’re you up to these days.”

You pressed your glass of wine to your lips and took a sip. “I’ve been good. Super busy. Started my own wedding photography business and basically spend all my time editing pictures.”

“Wow.” His eyes were wide. “Congratulations. I know that was always your dream.”

“Speaking of dreams, congrats to you Mr. Quarterback.” You teased.

He laughed and took a drink, shaking his head. “Yeah. It’s been a crazy ride.” A smile spread across his face. If there was one thing you still admired about Joe it was how humble he was. He’s graduated college less than a year ago and was already leading an NFL team to victory. “So, do you have a husband? Boyfriend?” He paused. “Girlfriend? Significant other?”

You laughed. “No, just me right now.” Your cheeks turned bright red. “Are you seeing someone?”

“Yeah.” He flashed the gold band on his ring finger. “Got married last year, just welcomed our first little one a few months ago.”

“Holy cow!” Your heart was crushed. “Congrats!” You faked a smiled and motioned to the waitress another round of drinks was needed. “Tell me about them!” You really didn’t want more details, but were just trying to be nice.

“My wife”, he flipped his phone around and his Lock Screen lit up, flashing a perfect picture of his beautiful wife and precious baby, “is truly superwomen. She’s taken on the roll of mom and NFL wife without an issue.” He smiled. “And baby Scarlett is just perfect.”

“You have a beautiful family.” You admitted. “Are they here with you?”

“No, just me. Hard to travel with a new born.” He looked at his phone again. “Actually if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go call them quick and say goodnight?” You nodded and he excused himself from the table.

You quickly finished your second glass of wine. Not sure if your face was hot from the alcohol or because you were holding back so many emotions. 5 years ago there was no doubt in your mind you would be Joes wife. But here you are, in a stuffy hotel bar single and talking about his newborn.

“Can I actually just buy a bottle?” You questioned as the waitress made her way around again. “And he’ll take another as well.” You motioned to Joes empty cup as she made her way back behind the bar to get your request.

Your face was buried in your phone as you googled Joe and his wife.

“Ordered me another I see.” Joe smirked as he sat back down across from you.

You quickly stashed your phone back in your purse. “I figured you’d be game for another round.” You laughed.

You and Joe spent the next few hours catching up, sharing drinks, and laughing about all of your old memories. The bar would be closing soon and you needed to get to bed, you had a long drive ahead of you tomorrow.

“I’ll walk you to your room.” Joe helped you from your seat, both of you stumbling and extremely tipsy.

“Thanks, Joe.” You slurred and took his hand.

You slipped your way into the elevator and up to the 7th floor before leading Joe down the hallway to your room. “Here it is.” You turned to him.

Joe grabs you around the waist, his hands shaking as though he might break you.

“Do you want to come in?” You whisper, your eyes locked on his.

He nods, his fingers still trembling and locked in your hips.

“You know I’m not going to break, right? I’m not as delicate as you think I am.” You giggle.

“I still feel like I’m going to break you.” His grip loosens even more. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. Never in my wildest dreams did I think we’d be back here and-“

You place a finger to his lip, silencing him. “Kiss me.” You whisper.

Joe crashes your lips together. His hands hungrily tracing every inch of your body. He lifts you up and without hesitation you wrap your legs around his hips, falling onto him as he sits on the edge of the bed before laying back.

You spend the rest of the night tangled up with Joe, his lips attacking yours.

“You ever think about us?” Joe asks after your long night. Your both laying in bed as the sun peaks through the curtains.

“Of course I do.” You answer, your voice horse and your lips swollen. “I think a lot about how timing is everything. We had the love, we had the whole universe. We just weren’t ready for each other.”

You both look at each other. And just like back then, there is so much love in your eyes. And somehow, the timing is still not right. And it seems that’s how things will always be for you and Joe, your timing will always be a little off.

“I think you need to go.” You clear your throat and break the stare between you two.

“What do you mean?” Joe pulls you into him.

“This isn’t right. We both know that. I really think you need to go. You have a wife and a family Joe. This isn’t fair.”

“What’s not fair,” he says, rolling away from you and throwing the comforter off of his body, “is that your about of put your clothes on and force me to leave this room.” He stands from the bed. “And I don’t know why.”

You stare at him, eyes wide and nervous. “Joe.” You say softly. “This isn’t right. You have to go. You need to.”

He plants a kiss on your cheek. “I still believe we’ll get our second chance. Somehow, someway we’ll find each other again. It’s pathetic, really, how much I still hope it’s you and me in the end.”

#joe burrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow one shot #joe burrow smut #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow insta au #joe burrow instagram

[sinfullyrosey]

*slams hands on table in a dramatic fashion*

Tired am I of the fics featuring Reader (and or one of the other characters) being uncomfortable and disgusted by Rook’s creepy quirks, yet still being paired up with him!

Instead, I bring forth to you the concept that Rook’s partner is unbothered by his actions, not because they condone or support his stalker-ish tendencies and constant destroying of other’s boundaries!

But simply because they’re into that shit.

Voyeurism. Photography. Predator/Prey. Hunting/Chasing. Obsessive Devotion/Praise.

All of those are legit kinks some have, and out of everyone in TWST, Rook would benefit the most by finding someone who appreciates and loves those forms of affections. While yes, his actions are not appropriate towards those who clearly want him to back off and feel uneasy towards him. In fact it’s kind of illegal.

But towards a partner with these kinds of kinks?

Rook must be the jackpot they’ve been looking for!

Like, imagine his partner being into photography: While in public, they take regular pictures of whatever, whether it be nature, models, animals, food, etc. But in the privacy of their own bedroom? Suddenly, the photos become much more vulgar, risque and focuses more on intimate moments shared between the two.

I especially like the angle of his partner specifically photographing themselves as their own model, whether in a pinup sort of way or through an artistic lens that utilizes nudity and symbolic narratives. Maybe they do submit these photos to art museums or maybe it’s just something they enjoy doing in the privacy of their home and they just keep the pictures to review after each session.

Or, more salaciously, they only do photography in the bedroom because they enjoy capturing those shared moments with him so that they can easily look back on them and relive the moment again, even if he’s not around.

As for the voyeurism angle, maybe his partner likes it when Rook takes pictures of them or watches them from the shadows because it gives them a special kind of thrill. Maybe they like the attention and knowledge that Rook looks at them as a piece of art to be gazed at and appreciated. While others may find his eccentric and obsessive nature towards beauty to be annoying or too much as it were, they don’t.

In fact, they may even agree with him whole heartily and thrive off of his over-the-top appraisal towards them to be one of the sexiest aspects about him!

This can further go hand-in-hand with an artistic photographer, because maybe they understand Rook’s viewpoint better than anyone else, because they’re the exact same way. And this translates into their photography as they try to set up good lighting and camera angles during their sessions to better capture these images to visualize their personal views.

Not to mention I think Rook would also appreciate finding someone who is similar to him in this regard and is openly receptive to his advances. It’s clear he enjoys the chase (he is a hunter after all), so finding a partner who’s open to participating in predator/prey or hunter/hunted type roleplays is probably a dream come true for him.

Maybe early on in the relationship or heck, even before that, when he’s still courting them, they would “play hard to get.” They were coy with him, keeping him on his toes and keeping him guessing as to whether or not they were just as interested in him as he was with him. One minute they were accepting of his invitation for a nice walk around Pomefiore, only to turn around and reject the bouquet he was attempting to gift them and refusing to even look his way.

Only for him to catch the glint in their eye and the subtle quirk of a smirk on their lips.

This got way longer then I intended and I kind of got off topic, but like these are just my thoughts. I’ve always loved analyzing characters and trying to pinpoint the type of partner would work best for them. And Rook is one of those special cases where fandom writes him off as a creep which isn’t wrong tbf and only seems to be interested in writing him as an unhealthy partner when like, the opposite is so much more interesting. Rook just needs to find someone who’s into the sort of stuff he does and would view it as a fitting love language.

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Suggestive #Rook Hunt X Reader #GN!Reader #I was listening to Pretty Women from Sweeney Todd while writing this #so I was mainly imagining Rook's partner as female tho no direct references to a specific gender is ever stated #I both love and hate this blond French bitch

[meetmyothersouls]

Timothée Chalamet surprises the reader with Taylor Swift eras tour tickets

So cute, I love this.

Oh My God

Warnings: none really, just a cutesy little blurb, fluff maybe, not proof read

"No peeking," Timothee says even though both of his hands are covering your eyes.

"Timmy, I hate surprises, you know this!" you whine. Your heart feels all fluttery, but not in the way that makes most people excited, more so in a way that makes you feel extremely jittery and nervous.

"I know, I know, but you're going to love this one."

Gently, Timothee lowers you down on what you're pretty sure is the sofa in his living room. The feeling of the soft fabric grounds you and you feel a tiny bit better.

"Okay, I'm going to pull my hands away from your eyes but keep them closed until I say." He's sitting next to you, and you can feel his knee bouncing against your leg. He's practically jumping out of his skin to give you this surprise and that makes you even more jittery.

"Damn it, Timothee, this better be good, my heart feels like it's about to explode!"

"I promise it's good," he says "okay, now open them."

You open your eyes and Timothee has moved from beside you on the sofa to in front of you, the coffee table in front of him, which would normally hold an artsy wooden dish and several music and photography books, now only held his cell phone directly in the middle.

He's smiling awkwardly, as if he's waiting for something.

"My surprise is your cellphone?" you ask confused.

"No. No it's not-" he runs a nervous hand through is curls and checks his watch. "Just, just wait, I promise it's-"

Timothee's phone rings, and he hops excitedly. It's not a contact he has saved, it's just a phone number displayed across the screen while it vibrates aggressively across the table.

"Answer it!"

"Me? Why? It's your phone! I hate talking on the phone!"

"Y/N, please answer it before she hangs up!"

"Who?!"

Timothee groans, and shoves his phone in your hand, pressing the green button as he does so, forcing you to answer.

You shoot him a death glare before clearing your throat. "Hello?"

"Y/n? Hi!"

Immediately you recognize the voice.

"It's Taylor!"

You don't say anything. You can't say anything.

Taylor Swift is on the other side of Timothee's phone; she's said your name and she's talking to you...waiting for you to respond.

Taylor laughs at the silence and keeps talking. "Timothee told me how big of a fan you are and how badly you wanted to come to the Era's Tour."

"Oh my god," you say out loud, not really meaning to, but it's Taylor Fucking Swift.

"Yeah I know, and at first I was like, mmmm, yeah I can probably throw Timothee Chalamet a few tickets to my show, BUT, if his girlfriend is really as big of a fan as he says she is, why would I just throw her some basic tickets, ya know?"

"Oh my god," you say again.

"SO, y/n, I'd like to present you with exclusive VIP tickets to my show next month. You'll have front row seats, backstage access, and we'll get to hang out after the show! I can't wait to meet you! And I guess you can bring Timothee along too," Taylor teases.

"Oh my god."

"See you soon!" You hear Taylor say, but the phone has already slipped out of your hand. Timothee grabs it, inspecting it for new cracks.

"So?" Timothee says, "You can tell me you love me now, and I'm the best boyfriend ever. Go ahead"

The excitement begins to settle in. You jump up from the sofa and run into Timothee's arms telling him exactly that.

Tags: @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp @kteezy997 @sufferingstarlight @xoxoloverb @tropicalrozmajzl @iloveneilperry @syirnge @patronsaintofthetwinks @rosewatergroupie @onlyenoughiamweird

#timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #writing #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timothee blurb #timothee chalamet imagine #timmy chalamet #fluffy #Taylor swift

[thatredheadwriter]

absolution

javi gutierrez x reader (2.7k)

Javi misses your date and has some making up to do.

A/N: This started because I was listening to MAMMAMIA by Maneskin on repeat and I couldn’t stop thinking about Javi G on his knees in front of his lady. These two love the pants off of each other (literally).

This is an NSFW oneshot for female reader with Javi Gutierrez of The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent. This work contains smut and mature language and should not be read by those under 18. As a writer, I will attempt to make accurate warnings for each of my fics, however, I cannot guarantee that I will identify each and every sensitive topic. My works regularly contain swearing, allusions to/mentions of sex, and canon-level violence.

Content Includes (but is not limited to):

fiance!Javi

some D/s dynamics (not hardcore)

dom!reader

sub!Javi

use of religious language to describe sex (there’s a theme, idk)

oral sex (male + female receiving)

anal fingering (male receiving), just a little as a treat

a very sexy dress (link in case you’re having trouble visualizing)

Please read at your own discretion and remember to consume your fanfiction responsibly.

-

10:42 pm

You’re seething as the numbers tick higher on the small clock beside the huge king-sized bed. One thing that never changed in all the hotels you visited with Javi, they all had the same shitty, annoying alarm clock sitting by the bed.

Shooting for this most recent project had so many locations–between photography, location shoots, studio shoots–and Javi insisted on being there for all of them. You’ve spent the last eight months crisscrossing the globe after your fiance and his passion project, watching him work to the bone for some sort of perceived perfection while the rest of the world turned on without him.

Tonight was supposed to be different.

Javi made reservations at the hotel restaurant for seven o’clock and promised he would be there. In all your time knowing him, he’d never broken a date with you, or anyone for that matter. But when eight o’clock rolled around, you settled back in your chair, called the waitress over, and ordered.

The mushroom risotto was delicious and the chardonnay tasted as expensive as it billed. You had the rest of the bottle sent up to your room for good measure. And now you’re waiting. Because good food and wine have sated your hunger, but not your fire.

It’s not until 11:03 that you hear the electronic click of the lock and your fiance finally enters the room. He strides in with his back to you,

“Late night?” you clear your throat and retrieve your half-finished glass from the low table by your seat.

Javi turns on a dime and his mouth falls open. Even from your seat across the room, you can practically see his pupils dilate as he takes in your form, clad in the sexiest dress you’d ever braved. It featured a false wrap-style v-neck, and for the kicker–double thigh slits. If you moved a certain way, it was clear you weren’t wearing underwear beneath.

You’d shown up at dinner dressed to the nines, dripping in the jewelry Javi had bought you over the years. And you’d left the same way. In the suite, you’d dressed down, putting your heels away in the small closet and taking everything off except for the earrings you always left in and the pendant he’d gifted you for your first anniversary–a single blue-green sapphire set in white gold that hung just perfectly at the crest of your cleavage.

“It’s the same color as the sea back home. Reminds me of you, because well, you’re my home too,” he’d explained as you had looked over it speechlessly.

“Have you eaten? My dinner was delicious,” you stand and turn your body to face the window, but your eyes stay on him.

You see it in his eyes. The exact moment he remembers the date he planned and everything he promised you, swept up in time and replaced with this crackling tension between you.

“Mi amor,” his face pales instantly as he crosses the room to you, but you hardly give him a glance. Instead, you lazily sip at the wine in your glass and circle the room to maintain your distance. “Please forgive me. I got caught up at work. I’m so sorry.”

“I waited for you, Javi,” you finish the wine and set the glass on top of a dresser, striding languidly towards the bed. “Alone in that damn restaurant.”

“Fuck, my love, it was never my intention to leave you there tonight. The shooting ran late and then the director wanted to go over some things, and then one of the actor’s agents called about a contract dispute…It’s a poor excuse, I know. I just now got away, and…Please forgive me, mi amorcita.”

“I won’t be a bystander in your life, Javi,” you settle yourself on the end of the bed and part your legs so the fabric parts around them. “It hurt me, sitting there alone. I miss my fiance.”

Javi drops to his knees in front of you, his gorgeous face twisted in anguish. “Please, tell me how to make it up to you.”

Showing the slightest mercy, you reach for him and relish the way he leans into your touch. With the softest grip on his golden chocolate curls, you guide his cheek to rest on the inside of your bare thigh. “Beg.”

So close to what he wants, he’ll never take it without your permission, even as he eyes the wetness peeking out from under the slit in your skirt.

“I want to taste you, please. I want to drown in you and feel you cum on my tongue. Let me give you as many orgasms as you can take.”

“I don’t know if you deserve it,” you muse, pretending to be distracted by something on the bedspread. The truth is, you know you’ll cave as soon as you look him in those gorgeous brown eyes.

“Please, princesa, I know I fucked up,” his accent weighs heavy with his distress. Javi’s hand traces up and down the outside of your thigh, “Let me make it up to you.”

You look down at your fiance, and your heart breaks a little. He didn’t mean to forget dinner, and you know he feels awful. Besides, he’s been terribly stressed with his new project and it’s not like you two have spent much time together lately, not like you used to.

“Okay, Javi, I forgive you. Now make me cum,” you purr.

A giggle escapes when he hooks his arms around your knees, forcing you to land back on the bed with a light bounce.

“I am so fucking sorry, mi querida,” he growls, sucking and kissing up the skin of your inner thighs. “I swear on my life, on my father’s grave, it will never happen again.”

You want to remind him that maybe now isn’t the best time to bring up his dead father, but then he swipes his thumb against your clit and all that comes out is a high-pitched moan

“Fuck, Jav,” you reach down to bury your hands in his curls and feel him nip at your skin in response.

“Never leaving this bed again,” he licks the flat of his tongue up your slit and you buck your hips up, chasing the sensation. “Can’t leave you, can’t leave this.”

Javi is a man used to the finer things in life. It’s what happens when you grow up on a huge estate, surrounded by servants, never wanting for anything. But one thing has always sated him, left him content and pliant at the end of your fingertips, and he’ll drink at it for hours if you let him.

You’re still clothed, however the dress you’d specially chosen for the occasion is just garnish. He’d been meant to savor it all through dinner, feast his eyes before taking an indulgence of the flesh, but you were never one to deny your lover. Especially when his absolution feels so divine.

From the first time he took you to bed, Javi made it a point to learn you. He was certainly a skilled lover, but over time he’s grown incredibly attuned to every little sound, every little twitch and jerk as he works you over. And he’s certainly eager.

A steady-building pleasure grows in your belly as he licks from your entrance up to your clit, over and over. Each time you can feel the proud jut of his nose bumping against that little bundle of nerves as he dips lower.

Your first orgasm comes quickly, and your fingers grip hard at Javi’s hair. But he doesn’t stop. If anything it spurs him on further. The taste of your first release drives him on and you can’t help but cry out when he sucks on your clit.

-

You’re not sure how long it is, or how many times you’ve cum, but eventually you’re overstimulated to the point of pain. You push Javi’s head away from your core, making him whine.

“S’too much,” you pant, “Gotta give me a break.”

At the blown-out look in your eyes, he’s worried. “Did I do too much? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, Javi, you never hurt me. M’just sensitive is all.”

You reach for him and he obliges, laying down beside you on the bed. Now that he’s finally close, you pull him in for a deep kiss, whining when you taste yourself on his tongue. When you need air again, he just kisses and nips down your jaw, still putting his mouth to really good use.

“I’m so sorry, mi amorcita,” he murmurs into the tender skin he soothes with a kiss. “My mind has just been so-so…scrambled lately.”

“I know, Jav. I’ve been a little worried about you.”

At your confession, his face falls. You know he never wants you to worry about anything.

“You work too hard, Javi,” you continue, running your hand down his exposed chest. “Too much espresso, not enough sleep.”

Your love sighs deeply under your touch, a weight lifting at your words. “I will do better.”

“Let me relieve some of that stress?” your lip curls in a smirk as your hand slips lower and lower until you’re fiddling with the buckle of his belt. Just below, his zipper is struggling to contain an impressive erection, the thought of which already has you salivating.

Javi flushes, voice raspy all of a sudden. “I still have some making up to do, no?”

You shake your head as you slip from the bed beside him into nearly the same spot he was in moments ago. “This night was supposed to be about you, cariño. I’d like to get it back on schedule.”

He doesn’t breathe as you settle into position, a serpent preparing to strike. Your hands run up and down his clothed thighs, just to feel him tremble beneath you.

“Easy, baby,” you soothe. “Gonna let me get you all nice and relaxed?”

Looking up at him, you wonder how you got so lucky. His curls are disheveled, sticking every which way from your grip on them as he brought you to ecstasy after ecstasy. Sweat glistens across his golden skin, flushed from the summer heat and more. You want nothing more than to bite his bottom lip, the one that sticks out as he pants for breath, nodding eagerly as you finally cup his bulge with your hand.

“Words,” you click your tongue at him.

“Yes, please.”

With his consent, you take your time with his belt, removing it completely from the loops and setting it to the side. Then you’re undoing his pants, careful not to pinch or pull on the skin that pushes up against his waistband. As the button pops open, you lean forward and give the imprint it left behind a kiss, and Javi shudders above you. You’re just as methodical with the zipper, pulling it down tooth by tooth until it reaches its end.

When you look back at your fiance, his face is caught in a mixture of concentration and ecstasy, eyes pinched shut as his chest heaves with the struggle of staying still.

“Javi.”

Deep brown eyes find yours in a heartbeat, searching for answers, instructions, pleasure. Whatever you’re willing to give.

“I love you.”

Immediately he relaxes, the curve of his spine returning to normal as some of the energy pent up from his day releases, leaving only room for you and the pleasure that’s to come.

“I love you too, mi princesa.”

“Tell me you want me to suck your cock.”

A groan rattles somewhere in his chest and his knuckles go white as he grips the sheets. Javi is vocal about giving you pleasure, but tends to go mute when asked about his own. But you’re not doing anything else until he asks for it. You want him to get used to asking for what he needs. You won’t let him burn himself out like this anymore.

“I want-I want you…mierda. I want you to suck my cock. Please,” he rasps, little more than a whisper.

You grin up at him as your hand slips under the band of his boxer briefs to find the weeping head of his cock. “You’re so good for me Javi,” you praise as you run your thumb through the dribble of precum that’s gathered there. “Telling me what you want. I love that, thank you.”

He’s more than ready when you finally take him out, but you still take your time. The first sloppy kiss to his head and Javi is digging his fingers into the bed below, brow knit in concentration. You work your way down to his neatly trimmed base before coming back up the other side.

Javi’s fingers thread through your hair, not insistent, just an anchor to the present. He tugs lightly when you first swallow him down, curses dripping from his kiss-swollen lips. After all your time together, you know exactly what it takes to get him right to the edge. Your tongue works the underside of him as you lazily bob up and down.

Your eyes cut to his to find them glued on yours as you work him. “Fuck, Jesus, querida, stop or I’m going to-”

You pull off of him, but your hand still works up and down his shaft. “You’re going to cum for me Javi, just like this. Let this be your final penance.”

With that you go back to your task, taking him down your throat until your eyes water. Two of your fingers gather some of the spit and precum that’s dribbled down to his base and you use it to gently work against the tight ring of muscle just a few inches below.

Javi looks divine like this. The tendons in his neck bulge as he throws his head back in pleasure. He’s screwed his eyes shut and you wish you could be in two places at once so you could lick the bead of sweat away forming at his temple.

“Wanted to- wanted to, fuck- I wanted to fuck you like you deserve,” he pants through gritted teeth. “But this is…” He doesn’t finish, because that’s when your fingers press in to breach his ass, and a low groan rattles through his chest.

The taste of him hits as you curl your fingers against his prostate. His fingers scratch against your scalp as you swallow against him again and again until he’s a shaking, muttering mess above you.

You release his softening cock with a soft pop sound and grin up at your utterly wrecked, not-a-stressed-bone-left-in-his-body fiance. As he tries to catch his breath, you rise from your position on the floor and hope Javi can’t hear your knees pop as you slide onto the bed next to him.

Javi pulls you in for a kiss and tugs you up the bed so you can lay beside of him. He doesn’t pull away until you’re firmly tangled in his embrace.

“I love you, and I’m so sorry about dinner.”

You smooth a hand over his disheveled curls. “Javi, you’re forgiven. Just don’t forget that you have a life outside of work. I will do everything in my power to support you in whatever you choose to do, but I won’t watch you neglect yourself. I love you too much.”

“I hear you. And I will…I will try to do better.”

“That’s all I ask. Maybe one day this week you can let the cast and crew have a break and we can have a do-over for dinner?” you ask hopefully.

“Yes, I think maybe Tuesday, or Wednesday. We’re supposed to shoot with-”

“Details later, Jav,” you silence him with a peck to the lips. “You never answered my question earlier. Did you get a chance to eat?”

He winces a bit and gives you a look, “I had some crackers and hummus from food services.”

“Let’s call down for room service and then you should get some rest. I plan on letting you do some more making up before you head off to set tomorrow.”

#javi gutierrez #javi gutierrez smut #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x reader smut #x reader #x reader smut #sub!javi gutierrez #the unbearable weight of massive talent #tuwomt #tuwomt fanfic #pedro boys

[shwoo]

Here are my headcanons for the Bugsnax cast's academic qualifications!

I want to be extremely clear that I'm treating this as purely character history stuff, not some kind of measure of worth or intelligence. I know some people treat academic qualifications that way, but that's stupid and I hate it. This stuff is based more on opportunity and interest. And what would have to be true for the characters to be in the positions they're in in the game.

I'm using US definitions, and not going into vocational stuff, which is why I keep saying academic. Vocational is kind of its own tier of things that's hard to throw into a table with the academic stuff. Also, vocational qualifications in the US don't seem to be standardised, so it's hard to compare them to each other. Chandlo is totally a licensed carpenter, though.

Rambly elaborations! (How tired was I when I originally wrote these wow)

I swear Gramble's presence in the some high school section isn't about his comedy (?) Appalachian accent. It's because he didn't have parents, so he had to prioritise food and shelter over finishing his schoolwork. If he "wound up raising himself", like the instruction booklet says, he wouldn't have got a lot of support academically. Also, I headcanon that he has ADHD (among other characters), so throw that one on the pile too. But he will probably get a GED once he gets around to it. That stands for Grumpus Education Diploma.

Lizbert dropping out of high school (for a life of adventure) is from the Reddit AMA, and also I like it. She seems big into forging her own path. Also, if her comedy Australian accent is meant to imply that she's Grumpus Australian, it's way less stigmatised in Australia to not finish year 12 than it seems to be in the US. Not saying it's not stigmatised at all, but it seems like leaving school early isn't even treated as a viable option in the US? That's why I was so defensive about Gramble just now.

More down here --v

Wambus wanted to work at the family farm as a career, and was already getting training on that, so he didn't see the point of doing further education. Also, he's from a culture that doesn't really see college as the default path after high school. I think that's one of the things the instruction booklet was implying with the line about how he's "the type who's spent his whole life within a mile of where he was born."

Cromdo went to college to study business administration, but had to drop out due to various family emergencies, and could never afford to go back. That seems like about his luck. I blame Grumpus Reagan (I hope there's no Grumpus Reagan).

Speaking of college being the default after high school, Filbo went to college because that's what you do, but couldn't keep up, and dropped out and returned home within a year. I hope he at least went to some good parties in that time. …Wait, isn't he childhood friends with Lizbert? Is he Grumpus Australian?

I'm not a hundred percent sure what a liberal arts degree is, but I bet Beffica has one. Maybe she majored in photography. Or sociology. I'm going to say sociology.

I headcanon that Chandlo and Snorpy went to the same college for undergrad, and were roommates the whole time. Platonic roommates, because they were still in the "if only you could just date your best friend wouldn't that be simpler hahaha" stage. Chandlo's degree is in kinesiology, probably.

Clumby has a diploma in her office from the School of Journalism at New Grump City College, which you can see at the start of the game. But it doesn't mention what qualification she graduated with. It could be a Bachelor's or Master's, but the advanced degree section has a strict one Snakolyte limit, and Jamfoot was funnier. Actually, it seemed excessive to give an advanced degree to six out of sixteen characters.

Wiggle probably went to one of those performing arts high schools I keep hearing about. And then to one of those performing arts colleges. She had a hard time deciding between dance and music, but ended up settling on music because she thought she'd reach a bigger audience that way. You can't do fashion design at those types of schools, I don't think, or that would've come third.

You tend to need a degree in journalism before you can find work in it, so I think the Journalist probably got one. They did a year of art school first, but concluded that drawing was something they'd be happier doing as a hobby than for a living. So they switched to their other passion. That's my headcanon for why the quest art is so good, if they're supposed to be the one who drew it in-universe.

Jamfoot canonically has a degree in library science, but he doesn't say what kind. In the US, most degrees in library science are Master's, so he might not have needed to specify. And a Master's in Library Science is extremely a part-time barista qualification. Because it's hard to get a job in the actual field. As mentioned in his interview.

Eggabell has the most specific canon qualifications in the game. She has an MD, with a specialisation in endocrinology. Did you know that Doctor of Medicine is a graduate degree in the US, not a research degree? I didn't, until I was researching this chart a while back when I had insomnia. I was wondering why all these American doctors also had PhDs. I may not be the quickest on the uptake.

I went back and forth on whether Floofty would have a Master's or a PhD, but I think if they could refer to themself a doctor, they definitely would, as often as possible. Maybe they couldn't get into a program after all that slander they mentioned. Or they were in one but got kicked out. Or they're just still working on it. Anyway, I think they have a Master's in molecular biology.

Shelda has an advanced degree here partly because I think it would really annoy Floofty, but also, it seems like something she'd be interested in persuing. Like, a Master's in herbal science or something. I don't know if it would licence her to practice medicine, though, if she wanted to expand the range of herb-related stuff she had access to. Maybe a Doctor of Naturopathy instead? Naturopaths actually can be licensed as physicians in about half the US, and the stuff Shelda talks about is so broad that it wasn't clear she was supposed to be a herbalist specifically until the DLC.

Snorpy has a Master's in mechanical engineering from GIT. That's what I think. (Guess what the G stands for). He made something very impressive for his thesis, but I don't know if it should be related to prosthetics or not.

The instruction booklet mentions that Triffany has a doctorate from NGU (didn't make that one up!), presumably in archaeology. There's also some evidence for this in the game. She describes herself as a leader in her field, something that's difficult to be in an academic field without a PhD, and Floofty addresses her as Professor a couple of times. I know that the word professor can also refer to anyone who's teaching at a tertiary level in American English, but she's not teaching anything at the moment. She's doing field research into her dead grandma on murder parasite island. So I think they do mean she has a professorship at a university. That's something that almost always requires a PhD or equivalent.

#Bugsnax #I've accumulated many headcanons about these muppets and their lives at this point #Many many headcanons #Using the one canonical image of Jamfoot implies that Joey Quickbeans also has an advanced degree #I don't know what it's in but it's not being able to leave an area when there's a rope across the exit #I know that much

[andmaybegayer]

Last Monday of the Week 2024-01-29

Sometimes you forget how to use a computer. It's fine it'll come back.

Listening: TERRORTORIES is so good. It took me a while to come around on MiSLeD but it's so worth it. They are having so much fun with it. Here's Real Boy and also Five Less Fingers for good measure.

Reading: Finished Not the End of the World by Hannah Ritchie. Worthwhile if you haven't spent a lot of time looking at hard numbers on climate and sustainability topics, it covers a lot of good ground, like getting reasonable proportions on plastic waste in the oceans, land use for various use cases, drivers of particulate pollution, all without being very defeatist or too triumphant.

Started on Calvino's Invisible Cities. because that feels appropriate.

Watching: Started Mobile Suit Gundam because I figure it would help me make sense of Friends at the Table and I did not realize how much F@TT directly apes Gundam specifically.

This show does not fuck around, from the memes I assumed it was more subtle with the horrors of war but nah. The gundam is firing the war is bad missile directly at you. What if you were driven to instrumentalize yourself as a tool of war.

Also Legend of the Roller Blade Seven at Bad Movie Night which is truly the worst movie we've ever had at Bad Movie Night, utterly incomprehensible in a bad way, don't watch it, not worth it.

Playing: More Dark Souls, entered Blighttown after clearing the Gaping Dragon. So far so smooth but blighttown seems like it might be a difficulty spike, although I have a lot of upgrades I haven't made yet.

Making: @thosearentcrimes hit me up for some photography and I am always down for that, here's a couple of my favourites:

Tools and Equipment: The best $20 you can spend on kitchen knives is getting one you already have sharpened by a real professional.

#Bandcamp #Youtube #last monday of the week

[hannie-dul-set]

LOVE VOMIT [n.] — the term when you become too full with your feelings too quickly and too frequently that you end up spitting everything out before even getting the chance to digest. this happens to you more often than you’d like to admit— every quarter, actually, ever since starting college. but what can you do when the prospect of falling in love is just too good to say no to? what can you do when maybe the next desert might actually stay inside your system this time?

or, wherein you fall in love with a different guy every season but fail to notice the one that’s been looking at you the whole year.

PAIRING. choi soobin x female! reader (ft. the rest of txt x reader). GENRE. slice of life, romance, humor, mild angst, SLOWBURN, college! au, orgmate! soobin, pining to the highest degree, multiple love interests, featuring some members of seventeen, enhypen, and le sserafim. WARNINGS. swearing, drinking, annoying org jargon, both mcs are pathetic, unrequited feelings. WORD COUNT. teaser: 429 | full fic: est. 25-30k. RELEASE DATE: late june to early july.

NOTE. i said i was going to post the preview at the end of the week but i got too excited 😭😭 this may be a soobin fic but. u see. i am in love with all five of them so YOU will also fall in love with all five of them i don't make the rules.

i also wanted to jump back into my comfort zone of writing ordinary college life tingz, especially now that i actually have 2 years worth of experience to draw reference from. anyhow, send me an ask/dm to be addded to the taglist. preview under the cut!

THE TIME IS SPRING. A soft musk in the air, freshly bloomed flowers lining the sidewalks, and the start of a new semester. There’s something gentle about springtime, reminiscent of crisp blankets straight from the dryer with lavender seeping into its cotton folds and sunlight leaking through pleated sheer curtains. The season is for cherry blossoms and picnic baskets, outings and first loves. You’ve always associated these things with spring, however none of these sensibilities are present tonight. 

Instead of clear skies and bright sunlight, the view through the diner windows is lit up by artificial lights and signages in the middle of a March evening. There’s no lilac nor daisies in the air, but cheap beer and the savory smell of fried chicken. It’s noisy, it’s loud, and it’s far from the gentleness of spring, but you’ve never felt more alive at this time of the year.

‘Why did you join Shutter.TXT?’ reads the sheet of paper sitting on your table. You’re all smiles as you listen to the answers of those sitting at your table, mindlessly nodding along after being three glasses in. Tonight is an orientation-slash-welcome party for the organization you impulsively joined upon entering the university. 

Because photography is my passion...because I want to explore other fields…because, because, because.

The answers carousel around the table, and honest to god, you stopped listening at some point because it’s getting repetitive. You don’t understand the purpose of this activity. Why else would you join a club for photography, videography, and editing if not for photography, videography, and editing? 

“Are you kids having fun?”

You perk up. The empty smiles you’ve been giving suddenly becomes brighter, your eyes crinkling at the corners. Spring came belatedly tonight, and it came in the form of your extremely pretty senior suddenly appearing behind your seat and you’re instantly all the more conscious about your posture when he leans down to check in on your group. He cranes his head to look at you with a smile. “Is it your turn?” he asks. The back of your neck is burning.

“Ah, yes,” you cough, clearing your throat to introduce your name. “I major in public administration. I know it’s pretty far from my discipline, but I decided to join Shutter.TXT because I didn’t want to be constrained in one field throughout college. I’m sure this organization will make my university experience a lot more exciting and interesting.”

Lies. You joined because of the very face that’s smiling at you this very moment.

“I look forward to working with you.”

love vomit. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#tomorrow x together x reader #txt x reader #choi soobin x reader #txt soobin x reader #soobin x reader #tomorrow x together au #txt au #choi soobin au #txt soobin au #soobin au #tomorrow x together scenarios #txt scenarios #choi soobin scenarios #txt soobin scenarios #soobin scenarios #tomorrow x together fanfic #txt fanfic #choi soobin fanfic #txt soobin fanfic #soobin fanfic #choi yeonjun x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #kang taehyun x reader #hueningkai x reader

[hiyuna]

golden! ☀️ keigo takami | hawks x reader

On one end of your apartment’s hall, there is you: a down-on-your-luck photographer with a penchant for bottling everything up. On the other end, there is Keigo Takami: an incredibly chill physical therapist that you once bet your sister wouldn’t look twice in your general direction. You lost the bet the very next day. Thankfully, the friendship that you’ve cultivated with him is worth much more than that.

— rating: t | word count: 5.3k | AO3 link!! — tags: modern!au  / no quirks!au / gn!reader / fluff and humor / slice of life / a lil’ angst but there’s some comfort too / i did a deep dive into photography in japan for this whole thing / this first part is set around thanksgiving so i mention it a few times

one.  ↪ the shared spoon.

"Pretentious artist notes... thirty-sixth edition? Or is it the thirty-fifth edition? Hmm. Let’s say the thirty-sixth edition for shits and giggles. Today is November 21st, 2022. It’s currently—roughly, I should say—ten in the morning. It’s freezing outside, but there’s no snow—thank god or whoever else is responsible for that.”

Your eyes drift from the phone on the round table beside your bed to the ceiling fan just ten feet above you. It lazily circles, set to the lowest speed despite the chill outside just to clear the stuffiness of your room.

“First order of business is the obvious failure from earlier this month. I don’t think I need to go over the whole thing again after the last two recordings. It’s time to move on.”

Biting your lip, you take a minute to go over the beginning of the month for what feels like the millionth time. There’s so much that’s happened in between then and now—a disproportionate amount of it more harm than good for your career, your mental health, and just... you in general. Coming to this realization in the timeframe hurt, but all of a sudden it’s hitting you here and now two days from a holiday while you’re sprawled over your comforter, tears welling easily in the corners of your eyes.

The next thing you say is whispered under the breeze of the fan as if it’s a secret you can’t even trust yourself to keep.

“How the fuck do I move on?”

What a question, a riddle for the ages.

Sniffling hard in a way that your mom would tease you over, you stretch the edge of your sweater over your fist and brutally wipe at your eyes. Your notes are no place for tears, and they sure as shit aren’t any place for wasting time, either. 

“Second order of business is moving on: where do I go from here?” You pause in your questioning to sniff again. “Touko says that all great photographers—really, all great creatives—are molded and made by the breakthroughs they have after a slew of failures, but I don’t agree. Neither does Kamihara... Granted, I’ve only ever seen the guy’s works and read his one single interview over and over so I could be talking out of my ass here, but I would confidently bet he doesn’t agree with that.”

You take a few moments to think, then let your eyes drift to the ceiling again.

“Okay, fuck it, surprise third thing. What’s the deal with ceiling fans? There’s something kinda... I dunno. Nice, I guess, in the way it moves. It’s not like a roll of the tide or the sway of a pendulum, it’s this ever-repeating circle. Which is pretty cool, because it’s only that way because I made it that way. I gave it perpetual motion when I turned it on, and it’ll go until something else stops it. That could be a good metaphor for one of the prints in the next gallery, right?”

You watch the fan above for a few moments more, then slap your hand over your face with a muttered curse. “What the hell am I even talking about? ‘Perpetual motion’ of a ceiling fan. This shit is too out there even for these notes.”

Thankfully, your ringtone begins to blare right then, saving your notes from another rant. You aren’t safe, however, as the sound causes you to violently jerk out of your moment of reflection and pop your neck in a way you weren’t expecting.

From a cursory glance that is accompanied by another curse, you can see that it’s your sister calling, and you immediately know that the call is presumably to accomplish what both of your parents could not. With an exaggerated groan, you tilt your head back between your flexed shoulders and close your eyes. You know what time of year it is and what holiday lurks right around the corner. You know it’s a time for family to gather and fellowship together. You know that it’s worrisome to everyone in your family that you aren’t making the flight halfway across the world to the States after missing Christmas. And New Year’s. And every other holiday that came before now.

Unfortunately... after a myriad of recent events, you really just can’t find it in you to care even an iota more.

Rolling over to your side to grab your phone and stop it from recording your voice notes, you say, “Bear is calling, gotta jet. See you next time, pretentious artist notes.”

Breathe in, breathe out. Putting on a smile that you desperately hope will assist you in getting through another one of these phone calls, you answer your phone and put it on speaker.

“Bear, my darling and beloved little sister,” you chirp, “if this is about what I think it’s about, you can stop before you even start.”

"So your mind’s really made up then? There’s nothing I can do to convince you to come home?”

“Nope! I’m fine staying back here this time. I’ll see you all in a few weeks anyway!”

Your younger sister sighs deeply, the exhale sounding equal parts exasperated at and forgiving of your stubbornness. The thought of her standing in the hall of your parents’ home on her phone with a hip popped out as she rolls her eyes at your answer is enough to make your lips quirk. As predictable as she believes you to be, she should take a good long look in the mirror.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me,” you playfully scold, “you did the same thing last year.”

“That was different! I was a broke freshman in college!”

“And I’m a broke photographer trying to live off of the money from my last gallery and an almost full-time job at the art museum. Think I’m justified in wanting to hang back for now.”

“Sure, sure. Just know that mom sicced me on you because she wholeheartedly believed that I could convince you. Dad was gonna get the other one, but he demanded not to partake in our quote-unquote ‘unhealthy family politics’.”

“Oh, god,” you chuckle as you press your fingers to the bridge of your nose, “who let frog get a sociology degree, again?”

She snorts along with you, “The real question is who the fuck let mom have him first? He totally fits into the whole ‘pretentious oldest sibling’ stereotype now, always going on and on about social bullshit. I’m so not ready for him to mansplain my relationship with Rina to her face in less than three days.”

“Ha! I’m getting plane tickets as we speak; I have to be there for that.”

“Ha, ha, fuck you.” She doesn’t mean it, of course, especially considering the way she’s clearly holding back laughter as she says it. The two of you let your laughter live its course before settling down, a warm sort of fondness that comes from a family like yours settling in the pit of your stomach. You’d almost like to let yourself pretend that you weren’t avoiding seeing them for a plethora of reasons, let yourself say to your sister that she convinced you to come back home and that you are actually buying a last-minute flight out of Fukuoka and back to the states.

You can’t do that, unfortunately, because a large part of yourself won’t let you.

It’s comfortably quiet for a moment on both of your ends before you hear a snap. “Hey, how was that last gallery of yours, anyway? I saw your post on instagram when you were starting it, but you didn’t post your normal wrap-up pic afterward. How many pieces did you sell? I bet they can’t get enough of you over there, huh?”

How easily that fondness can be ripped away and replaced with a pit of anxiety. You have to remind yourself to breathe again. “Uh, I honestly can’t remember how many pieces I sold, bear. I was really busy leading up to it and I had a shift at the museum like an hour later so...”

“Oh, uh! Sucks that you were busy! But I’m sure it was fun, and I know your pieces sold well. You’re a really great photographer, bug.”

You want to cry again. If only she knew that you only managed to part with two prints for a combined total of a little under a hundred dollars. If only she knew that you had a good crowd, but it seemed like everyone was only interested in moving to the next photo and not analyzing the themes in your works that you saw from behind your lens. If only she knew that your hours at the art museum went up because one of your colleagues moved to Tokyo just two days after the gallery.

You could tell her, but it would just add to the stress of everything everyone around you is going through. Your brother just had a kid. Your sister’s apartment caught fire a few months ago and she’s still trying to recover. Your mom lost her own brother at the beginning of the year, and while your dad has it relatively easy, you know he’s trying to be the strongest he can be for your little family. You don’t want to add to that just because of a few road bumps. And you won’t.

“Bug? Are you there?”

“Y-yeah, I just... Thank you for the compliment. I wish you could’ve been here to see it.”

“Aw, me too! Ooh, you should facetime me when you do! That way I can walk through it with the exclusive artist commentary like a dumbass billionaire with nothing else to do.”

That gets a watery laugh out of you. “You’ll have to text me and remind me, but I’ll try. Anyway, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay,” she softly agrees. “Before you go though... You know you can talk to me about whatever, right? I know there are fifteen hours between us and that messes with a lot of scheduling and stuff, but I promise to call whenever you need me. Just thought you should know.”

“I know, I know. And I’ll promise to do that if you can promise me the same, alright?”

“Of course, I promise! Alright, I think frog and company just rang the front door, so I gotta go too. Take care, bug!”

“You too, bear. See you soon.” And with that, the line drops, leaving you to stare at your phone.

One day, you will call your sister and tell her everything that’s been troubling you. You’ll tell her, then your parents, then your brother. And then, you’ll plan to take as long of a vacation as you can just to see them all. One day you will.

Just maybe not today.

The day passes you by after you get off the phone with your sister. You spend most of it curled into a tight ball on your couch with a positively gigantic fleece blanket draped over your shoulders like a wise ruler presiding over their kingdom...only your “kingdom” was your tv playing that one restaurant show that stressed everyone out this past summer. Another man’s treasure, right?

Around six, however, you decide to stretch your legs by taking a walk downstairs to get your mail and maybe see a neighbor or two. You could most likely benefit more from that than watching another episode in the dark of your apartment. So, you press your feet into a pair of canvas shoes, slip into your favorite jacket, offhandedly comb your fingers through your hair, and head out the door with just your keys and phone.

The elevator ride down is uneventful—one of the older kids living on your floor is on his way to get the mail for his parents and thoroughly ignores you by playing with his switch instead. Not like you’d have much to say, anyway. He’s courteous though, because he motions for you to get your mail first when the two of you make it down. You keep your voice to a murmur as you thank him, hastily grab your mail, then apologize as you scoot out of his way.

You don’t have much, thankfully. There’s a letter from the art museum’s director saying that you’re welcome to schedule another gallery for your works a few weeks into the new year that you sigh at, a paper bill that reminds you to sign up for paperless versions, and a thick yellow envelope from your mom. You stop in your tracks to rip the envelope open and find a card in the shape of a goofy cartoon turkey inside.

“Just because you aren’t coming doesn’t mean you can’t eat like we will. I’ll have your brother send you some money from me through those weird money-transfer apps you kids use these days. Treat yourself to some turkey on me!”

Oh, mom. You’ll have to call her the second you get back to your apartment. You don’t need money to buy a turkey—and you’re not even really a fan of turkey to begin with... The thought is very kind and very mom of her, and yet another show of love you needed from your family at this moment in time. With a slight pep in your step, you begin to walk back to the elevator while giving the goofy turkey another fond glance.

The second you do, however, you run into a giant and very solid... thing. 

Luckily, while you do stumble over your feet in order to regain your balance, you don’t fall flat on your ass in front of a lobby of your neighbors. Unluckily, you recognize the person you ran into, and he’s picking up the plastic bags you made him drop with a friendly smirk that makes you want to simultaneously want to hide and roll your eyes at him.

“Ah, Kei—oh, I mean Takami! I didn’t see you there, I’m so sorry! You alright?”

Takami Keigo, your neighbor from the opposite end of the hall, laughs with a practiced poise. “It’s fine, I swear! Though I do have to wonder why you continue to call me Takami...”

“How many times—it’s polite to call you by your last name,” you grumble as you hastily squat down and yank the last plastic bag off of the ground before he could attempt to with your free hand. “I’m being polite.”

“You are very polite to me! I can’t say the same about the eggs in that bag, unfortunately.”

You stiffen automatically in shock, immediately (but carefully) peering into the bag to inspect its contents... and this time, you do roll your eyes. No dice. This is a bag full of food from KFC.

Keigo laughs again at the utterly unimpressed look you give him, the bastard. You have half a mind to whack him with the bag in retaliation, but it’s ultimately nothing more than a thought. Not only would that be incredibly rude of you, but it’d also instantly contradict your earlier point about being polite. Instead, you gesture to the elevator with the hand holding the bag, and when he confirms that is his ultimate destination, you go and press the button to go up.

“So, Keigo,” you emphasize just to be a little shit, grinning when he wiggles his eyebrows in response. “Haven’t seen you in a while. How are things on your side of the hall?”

With an amused sigh, he tells you, “Same old, same old. Yuri’s as cranky as ever, Masaki and his baby girl are as adorable as ever, and Michiko is as man-crazy as ever.”

“Oh? What number is she on this month?”

“Three! And you know, she told me just the other day that I should be ashamed of forcing her to keep busy with other men while she waits on me. I was almost going to stop by just to tell you that when it happened.”

“I wish you did! How many times have you told her that you aren’t interested?”

“With that incident added? Six times.”

You grimace, though you know you’re doing a terrible job at keeping the amusement off of your face. “Well, if you ever need to get her off of your back, you can always call me. Can’t say I’ll know exactly what to do, but I’ll do my best to help.”

The elevator arrives then, a couple from a different floor stepping out first before the two of you go in. Since you have a free hand, you push the button for the fourth floor and then take your spot opposite Keigo in one of the back corners.

“Anywho, how’s your side—“

“—Hold the elevator, please!”

Without thinking you shoot your arm out to stop the doors from closing. A cloud of perfume and cologne engulfs you moments later as a small group of people squeeze in with you and Keigo, the highly incompatible scents almost enough to give you an instant headache. You shuffle backward a bit to try and minimize your contact with it, but thanks to the way these people have shoved their way in—and the fact that Keigo is now behind you—you have little room to work with.

“Look who it is!”

Jesus. Speak of the devil—it’s almost as if you and Keigo talking about Michiko somehow summoned her and her posse. You’d laugh if you weren’t dreading getting whatever they drenched themselves in stuck as a taste in your mouth.

Closer behind you than you’re expecting, Keigo mumbles a curse you hope only you hear before raising his voice to say, “hey there, Michiko! Throwin’ a party or something?”

“We’re just having a little get-together! You know you’re always invited to come around, Keigo. It’d be so much fun with you there.” 

“Aw, I’d love to, but we’re having our own dinner party for two tonight!” As he lies explains this, a hand falls onto your left shoulder in a friendly gesture. You try your damned hardest not to freeze at the unfamiliar touch, even as Keigo says your name. “Isn’t that right?”

“Totally—”

“—That’s just too bad,” Michiko cuts you off with a pout. “If it gets cut short for any reason you can always stop by!”

“We’ll be fine.” Oh, god, sometimes you can even surprise yourself. There are five sets of eyes on you the immediate moment after your curt reply, and you really don’t even want to imagine the look on Keigo’s face right now. Hate, hate, hate.

The rest of the ride to your floor—which is blessedly short—is spent in awkward silence on your and Keigo’s end. Michiko and her group converse about what they’ll do at their “get-together” in a way you presume is to entice Keigo to attend, but he keeps to himself. When the doors open up to your floor, they all step out without bothering to even feign letting the two of you leave first. You roll your eyes at their backs as you wait to follow, idling outside of the doors with Keigo.

“Ugh, they probably smelled good one-on-one but together? I think that could’ve been used as a torture tactic,” you (somewhat) over-dramatically cough the second they’re all in Michiko’s apartment with the door shut.

Keigo snickers at that, eyeing you carefully. “Yeah, that was a lot. Are you okay?”

You raise an eyebrow, following after him when he starts toward his side of the hall. “I mean, I guess; it was just another typical conversation with Michiko. Why do you ask?”

“We kinda summoned her back there. She also tried to walk right over you and it was rude, which I didn’t point out.”

“It’s okay, I promise! It was uncomfortable as hell, but if it weren’t for you it could’ve been way worse. Thankfully we’re out of it now.”

He stops in front of his apartment door to look back and give you a lopsided, yet genuine smile, his normally sharp eyes softening into something almost as sweet as honey. Right then and there you feel like you’ve been hit by a bolt of lightning. 

Fuck, he’s gorgeous, and it is so unfair in so many ways.

“So, are we having dinner together or what?”

You can’t help yourself. “What?”

“Wow. I didn’t think people actually still made that joke.”

“A joke—I’m not making a joke here,” you hastily explain, “I’m genuinely confused. Was that not just a trick to get Michiko off of your back?”

“Sure it was, and I’m making it into a genuine invitation right now! We were catching up and Michiko interrupted, so why not just eat together and finish our conversation?” At this, Keigo turns back to his door and unlocks it, striding in without waiting to hear your answer.

With a slightly exasperated huff at his nonchalance, you follow him inside and close the door behind you while asking, “Did you even get enough food to feed two people?”

“Of course! I always get more just in case I’m feeling extra peckish. And if we run out of this, I guess I could make a salad on the fly. Anyway, welcome to my humble abode!”

The gravity of the situation hits you the second you turn on your heels to face him and his living space—the place he calls his own and has carved out as a natural extension and expression of himself.

You’ve never been in his apartment before, not like this. And on second thought, he’s never been in yours like this either. This is completely uncharted territory. In the eight-ish months you’ve been living in Fukuoka, in this apartment building, Keigo’s been nothing more than a friendly, utterly handsome face from the other side of the hall, one you’d occasionally see when heading out for work around the same time each morning, or checking your mail, or in one of the corner stores nearby. You just barely know that he’s a studying physical therapist with a job at a local gym and that his birthday falls sometime in the winter. His number is saved in your phone, but you can count the number of conversations over text you’ve had on maybe two hands. 

You barely know him, and now you’re waltzing into his apartment like you two have been doing this since you moved in.

Deciding to break the tension you’re suddenly feeling with something easy—maybe a compliment on his decorating—you glance around the space to take it all in. All of his furniture—from the couch and loveseat to the chairs rounding the square glass table—is pristinely spotless, a fact almost comically exaggerated by the fact that they’re all a shade of white that’s startlingly bright under the fluorescent lights above. There’s a plush-looking light gray rug on the floor and a deep red throw blanket on the couch with matching pillows that are seemingly the only splashes of differing colors out in the open. When you look to the kitchen, you see that it matches the color scheme, and your heart drops a little.

There are no pictures decorating the counters in the kitchen, no reminders stuck to the fridge by magnets, no half-burnt candles on the coffee table in the living room or the console with a giant tv. You expected a bit more from him on this front, even with the small number of his eccentricities you’ve witnessed firsthand thus far.

There are, however, two things by the sink: a single succulent with slightly browned leaves rounding its base, and a photo of Keigo beaming widely and waving at the camera with a serious-looking, dark-haired young boy at his side. This makes you smile a bit to yourself. At least he has that.

When you turn back to him, his face mirrors yours as he asks what you think of his place. If you’re being honest with yourself, it disappoints you that he seemingly only uses it as a space to sleep at night, but you’ll keep that to yourself. You could just be assuming—not everyone can fill every corner of their home like you strive to. So you tell him that it’s cool.

“Probably not as cool as yours,” he returns, motioning to the table full of food boxes. “You gonna just stand there or are you gonna leave all this chicken to me?”

Walking over, you ungracefully plop down into the chair across from his and smirk at him. “Since you’re being so generous, I guess I might as well join you for dinner!”

“I knew you’d come around eventually.”

Keigo takes his seat after grabbing two plates from the kitchen and you both get to work divvying the food. He wasn’t lying when he said he usually gets extra whenever he eats fast food—there’s more than enough left over even when your plates are close to being full. As you dig in, you continue your conversation from the elevator and tell him that you haven’t been up to much other than working and taking time for impromptu mini-shoots when you can. He’s more attentive to you talking about almost nothing than you’re expecting, and it almost makes you choke on a chicken tender. Your recovery by asking how his studying is going is a little clumsy, but it nevertheless works. He’s been busy, he informs you in a neutral tone, and he wishes he could spend more time working at the gym due to the soccer season coming to a close.

His voice is tender and affectionate as he tells you, “There’s a youth league at the gym I work at. I was coaching the fifteen-year-olds before my course load got a bit too wild, and it was a lot of fun watching those boys interact with each other.”

That warmth of his is infectious, as you’re feeling it when you chuckle, “Must remind you of your high school days, huh?”

“...Guess so.”

Oh. Ouch. Wrong thing to say, for sure. Just a swift glance at him slowly pulling away from eating to place his elbow on the table and his head in his palm is enough to confirm it, never mind the faraway look he has as he stares into the kitchen. For the second time in an hour, your inner monologue is kicking you in the metaphorical balls for your slip-up.

“What is that, by the way?” Keigo juts his chin out at the mail you set on the chair beside you, clearly asking about the cartoon turkey at the top of the pile.

You snort, “A Thanksgiving day card from my mom. She’s going to have my brother send me money to get a turkey and thought that a card would be the best way to let me know.”

After you say this, you think for a second. Then, “You know? It’s funny. My younger sister called me earlier asking if I was coming home for Thanksgiving, and now we’re having dinner together.”

Keigo looks back at you with a slightly more lucid expression. “I’m sure they’re looking forward to having you back in the states again.”

“I think so too... it’s been a long time since they’ve seen me in person and not through a phone screen. You know, I’m pretty sure the last time I was in the states was early last summer for my dad’s birthday.”

“That’s not so bad considering the last couple of years. If you don’t mind me asking, why not go back for Thanksgiving?”

Million dollar question, that one.

With a sigh, you explain, “I’m in the middle of a rough time currently. Do you remember the gallery I had earlier this month? Only a couple pieces sold, and as much as I love working at the art museum, I’d love it even more if I could cut my hours back and focus more on photography.”

Keigo studies you for a moment, golden-hued eyes giving you a brief moment to peer deeper beneath the practiced mask he constantly wears. Normally you’d be a bit more bashful at openly staring at him like this, but at this moment he’s less of the neighbor who genuinely invited you to dinner with a lie to someone else and more of someone you’d willingly spend hundreds of hours studying just to come within an iota close to capturing him perfectly on film.

You weren’t wrong when you thought him gorgeous earlier, not even close to it. He might intentionally play himself off as carefree and casual to a fault, but you can see the tension that defines the hard edges of his jaw, the keen vigilance in the glint of his eyes.

Then the moment ends, because Keigo slides his gaze to the window without moving, and says, “That’s not all, though, is it?”

It’s not. And you really don’t feel like rehashing it a second time today.

He must gather this from your silence because it’s in the moment that you start debating whether you want to tell him outright that you’d rather not explain it to him or tell him as much through hints that he stands to clean the table. He takes your plate after confirming that you’re finished, placing both in the sink and washing them. Your conversation lulls in the space and quiet between you. At least until,

“I admire that about you, you know?”

For a brief second, you wonder if his goal tonight is to utterly confuse you. “You admire what?”

“You moving to Fukuoka from Chicago, of course!”

“Keigo...” you draw out the second syllable of his name in slight disbelief as you glance over your shoulder at him. “I packed up all of my life just to move to a city halfway across the world that I’ve only ever fantasized about only to actively be faced with the reality of doing that, and you admire that about me?”

Keigo’s smile is a little bit sad now. “What else? That takes courage, ingenuity, and resilience. You knew nothing about Fukuoka, yet you still sought to live here. You knew there would be a language barrier between you and an overwhelming majority of the population, yet you were working on your Japanese back in college if I remember right. You moved with a plan, you had a job with the art museum by mid-April, and you’ve made friends with a local photographer and that intern at the museum. So what if your first gallery here failed? You’re just getting started. Why rush it?”

That gets you to fall silent as he walks from the kitchen back to the table, a carton of ice cream and two spoons in his hand. He sets the carton—peach and mango is the flavor—down in the center of the table after taking the cap off, and sticks his utensil in it to take a bite. You absorb his words of encouragement in the meantime, pinning his words on a mental corkboard alongside your sister’s call and your mom’s card. When you consider yourself finished in letting all of the sentiments and affection warm you like your blanket from earlier, you find that he’s staring at you with a concerned furrow of his eyebrows.

“Thanks, Keigo,” you sigh, feeling soft-hearted. “Between my sister this morning, my mom’s card, and now this get-together, I think I’m feeling a lot better about everything.”

His once cloudy expression clears, and the bright, kindhearted look he gives you in return is all you need. “No problem, friend. Now, no more worrying! I thought this ice cream might be something you’d like and you haven’t even tried it yet. You’re making me look bad here!”

You scoff as he grabs your spoon and scoops up a hearty chunk of ice cream with it, looking all too pleased with himself as he waves it in front of your face with a smirk. Giving him a stink-eye, you snatch it from him and he guffaws, nearly dropping his own scoop in the process.

Why rush it indeed.

You stick the shared spoon into your mouth with a large grin and not a single worry in the world.

hi!! i’m yuna and this was written by me for me and i really needed to get this out of my system so here we are ✌🏾i don’t know how long this series will be—i have a handful of ideas but who knows what will get turned into a chapter—but i hope to be back soon, and i hope you enjoyed!! 💕

#hawks x reader #hawks x self insert #keigo takami x reader #mha x reader #bnha x you #i miss him so much and i want to get back into writing so #also i just wanted to write something soft!! nobody move!! nobody say anything!! i need my soft moment!! #these will be interconnected ficlets in anachronic order btw #ok bye for now!!! i’m gonna watch the new trigun and cry over millie’s disappearance!!!! #AO3 link inbound when it comes back up as well lol!!! OK NOW i'M LEAVING 💕🥹 #yuna.writes

[finniestoncrane]

I'm here for a blind date

Im so sorry for the late request 😭

I've lost track of the days and time.

I'm a 26 year old man, Gay, and I work as a mailman, tying to save up for college. I'm 5'8, wear glasses, brownish red shaggy hair, some stubble.

I'm very anxious, people pleaser, clumsy, kinda dense ngl. Someone can tell me something and it's not guaranteed to get through my brain. I'm not too smart lmao. I'm nice, generally willing to help anyone. I consider myself a hardworking, picking up slack, I don't leave things half-assed.

I do have some issues with trust, I'm generally overly cautious approaching any relationship. Whether it be platonic or romantic.

I like collecting pins, tinkering with things, birds, photography, comics, gardening, and interior design to an extent.

Congrats on 1.5k!

-🦦

💜 blind date 💜 the kitchen is now closed! 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie1500 (to follow or to block) a/n: is it normal to get jealous of you for a date i wrote? no? ok then💚

"Oh great! Hi! Welcome to the Vill-Inn. I'm so glad you're here and not at all annoyed because if you hadn't showed up I was going to steal your seat! Enjoy your meal, I guess."

A strange welcome, but when you get to your table, you realise why the wait staff might have been planning on swooping in and stealing your date. Sitting across from you is a mass of hulking muscles attached to a stoney, but handsome, face.

"I am... well, most people call me Bane."

He offers you his hand and you take it, surprised by how gentle the hold is, though it's clear he's making a very conscious effort to withhold his strength. Bane seems shy, and really self-conscious, and you suppose you would too if you were bigger and taller than everyone around you. But he is polite, and surprisingly sweet.

The first thing he says to you, beyond introductions, is how much he likes your glasses. It's clear that he's been thinking of a compliment that isn't invasive, or that could backfire. You can tell how anxious he is, being very anxious yourself, so you try and ease up the tension, saying thank you, apologising for being a bit awkward, giving the whole 'I'm very anxious' spiel.

"Oh. That's... me too. I suppose we can be anxious together, si?"

Bane asks how you ended up on a blind date, and you explain that you felt like meeting someone new. You usually find it difficult, given that you're quite cautious and have trust issues, but that you figured it couldn't do you any harm. And this seems to resonate with him.

"I don't have many friends, or other relationships. Trust is a difficult thing to come by."

As he opens up, you realise you both have a lot more in common than you even could have realised. Both clumsy, although for Bane it comes with his size and strength, both a little bit lacking in the self-confidence department when it comes to intelligence. And you can see him breaking into a small smile when you tell him that you hate half-assing anything.

"I can be relentless too. Although... I mean, I won't push you for a second date... unless you want to... have one?"

You definitely do, and you're even more excited when he asks if you'll go bird-watching with him. That way, you can show off your photography skills. He might describe himself as dense, but he's picked up on everything you've said over the evening, unable to focus on anything but you. A very good sign.

#finnie writes #finnie1500

[souryogurt64]

hi! i think i saw a post you made before about how you made your pete wentz shrine wall? would you mind reblogging it again? I'm trying to make a similar thing for my room. thanks either way!

Room in question:

Here are some posts (one, two) and I will explain it again because I love bragging about my room

Basic process was curating images from Tumblr/Pinterest /TikTok/whatever. Then I put them in a Powerpoint in various sizes and printed it at my fancy hometown library or at a Fedex. Be careful not to print double sided. You can print legal size at Fedex to make things bigger, but it's more expensive.

Then I measured butcher paper to be the size I wanted and taped pieces together to create the backing. Then taped the photos all over it with clear tape. I also used clear glue and tweezers to add hearts I punched with hole punches out of pink paper. It was hung by putting command strips + hoks on the wall and clipping binder clips to the top and hanging it; this prevents any damage to the poster itself, risks less damage to the wall, and is way easier to hang straight. I hang tapestries this way too.

I was privileged enough to have a very large table I could set up in my parent's basement and work on it for weeks on end in good lighting, but it definitely took up a massive amount of space and I would estimate was at least 30 hours of physical work and many hours of photo curation.

I would strongly recommend starting from the edges and carefully lining them up and working inwards. I did not do this and worked from the bottom up and it turned out wonky shaped. would also recommend printing some "filler" photos that can be like a cool repeating pattern of flowers or hearts or swirls or w/e that you can cut to whatever size to fit any gaps. These are not that noticeable but very necessary.

[joopsworld]

15 questions for 15 mutuals

Thank you dearest @gold-mines-melting and @ageofhearingloss for the tag 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

were you named after anyone?

A news anchor 💀

when was the last time you cried?

Last week - I got all comfy to sign on to Zoom therapy (lol) and when my cat jumped up on me he knocked over my coffee and two full containers of water entirely on my laptop, phone, everything on the table, and soaking the rug. It was truly the last straw for me that day

do you have kids?

No way

do you use sarcasm a lot?

Yes, but unfortunately I'm pretty bad at making my sarcasm clear so many times there are miscommunications lol

what's the first thing you notice about people?

I think just their general vibe? Idk how to explain this further, but I feel like I can tell really quickly if I'm gonna like being around someone

what's your eye color?

Blue/green/gray depending on the light

scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings, I have immense fear just existing on a daily basis, soooo I'm not really into putting myself in that situation for fun

any special talents?

Uhhh I went to college for classical singing/opera so that's kind of a flex, but otherwise, I feel like I'm pretty good at cooking/baking, doing puzzles at record speed, and parallel parking.

where were you born?

Minnesota

what are your hobbies?

I feel like I have so many hobbies that I dabble in but don't spend a lot of time on individually - Again, I love to cook and bake, music has pretty much become my entire personality in the form of concert-going, singing/playing, listening, consuming music media, deep-dive researching about artists, etc., I like to read, I like to paint and draw occasionally, I love art and film photography, which I got really into for a sec and have temporarily abandoned until I buy myself a new camera, aaaaand I love to be outside! I love to go on long walks and swim and rollerblade and canoe, and just lay in the damn grass!!

have any pets?

YES MY BABY BOY, HUGO!!!! We really are two peas in a pod, I love him so dearly. My childhood cat, Vincent, is also still kickin, but he lives at my family's house 🥰

what sports do you play/have you played?

I played a lot of sports growing up, but the one I stuck with the longest was hockey. I still love to ice skate, but I was truly an awful player so it's been a while

how tall are you?

5'5.5"

favorite subject in school?

Choir and theatre (unfortunately)

dream job?

Mmmm if we're being honest, I would love to never work again, but I've always wanted to do something creative, and rn I'm trying to figure out where the sweet spot for me is. I have a very vague idea of what that looks like and it probably doesn't even exist but I think I'd like to be some sort of artist director where I can collaborate and incorporate many different mediums

I feel like I'm always the last person to do these and everyone has already posted theirs sooo if you've already been tagged and I missed it, I'm sorry!! Low low lowwww pressure tags: @jmkho @demolitionndann @mountain-in-springtime @jakeykiszkas @jaakey @anthemofgvf @theaudacitytowrite @the-starcatcher @theweightofstardust @sacredjake @fallonfatality @takenbythemadness @ageofwagner @alwaysonthemend @joshsindigostreak

I love getting to know you guys! It’s truly such a joy 💕

[life-skills]

Well it's all new and where to begin but I have a feeling that we all have something of our own to write our own stories and tell everybody about it someway or the other. But, many of us wish to stand back and just enjoy our own purview without sharing with others.

However, I didn't understand the mindset of people who upload pictures of their food on social media to do what? Are they only people who think they can only enjoy or is it some way to show love to their food? What's the psyche behind this ?

Well my intention is not to hurt or to be offensive to anyone who's part of this but why sharing this has become such an important part of life.

What are your thoughts and view 🧐 on this ?

Well I've shared my thoughts and views on this..

Aren't we supposed to just enjoy the food with our loved ones without uploading food pics on social media and can't we just avoid using our devices over eating table.

Food photography has become a popular trend in recent years, especially on social media. From Instagram to Facebook, people are taking pictures of their meals and sharing them with the world. But why do people upload food pics on social media? In this blog post, we'll explore the reasons behind this phenomenon.

One of the most common reasons people upload food pics on social media is to share their experiences with others. Whether it's trying a new restaurant, cooking a new recipe, or discovering a new food trend, sharing a picture of the meal can help others feel like they're a part of the experience.

Let's face it, we all want to show off sometimes. And what better way to do that than with a beautifully presented plate of food? By sharing a picture of their delicious meal, people can show off their culinary skills, their taste in restaurants, or simply their good luck at finding a tasty meal.

For many people, social media is a place to seek validation from others. By sharing a picture of their meal and receiving likes and comments, they can feel a sense of validation and approval from their social network.

Food pictures can also serve as a source of inspiration and recommendations for others. By sharing a picture of a meal they enjoyed, people can inspire others to try new foods or visit new restaurants. Additionally, by browsing through food pictures, people can get recommendations for new places to eat or new recipes to try.

In some cases, people upload food pics on social media as a way of creating a personal brand. By consistently sharing pictures of their meals, they can establish themselves as a foodie or a culinary expert, which can lead to opportunities for collaborations, sponsorships, or even a career in the food industry.

Lastly, people may upload food pics on social media simply as a way of documenting their memories. By capturing a picture of a meal they enjoyed, they can look back on the experience and relive the moment.

Overall, there are many reasons why people upload food pics on social media. From sharing experiences to seeking validation, food pictures can serve a variety of purposes. Whether you love them or hate them, it's clear that food pictures are here to stay.

[melissa-driggers-photography]

Professional Organizer in Northern Virginia | Get Baby-Ready with Clarifying Spaces

If you're the kind of mom or mom-to-be that just isn't good at or interested in doing a lot of organizing at your home before your baby comes, hiring a professional organizer in Northern Virginia can be a great help to you. It may be the last thing you want to do yourself or you just want some assistance getting your home and nursery just right for your little bundle of joy. Either way, Clarifying Spaces is here to help. Check out this Q&A with owner and organizer, Claire Ward.  

An Interview with Clarifying Spaces - Professional Organizer in Northern Virginia

  Q: What overall services do you provide as a professional organizer in Northern Virginia? A: I offer moving assistance, decluttering and donation drop offs, personalized systems designed for your home, access to trade discounts from upscale retailers, laundry folding, closets, pantries, offices and more!   Q: What kind of services do you offer for expectant mothers specifically? A: As a new mom it was so important for me to have babes clothes set up with easy access! I offer nursery prep, clearing a room to become a nursery, and I can even assemble furniture!   Q: When and how did you get into this line of work? A: I formed my business March 2022 but have been organizing for several years. I started because of my love of helping friends and family get control of their space, and I moved so many times I learned what to take and what to leave.   Q: What does the process look like when working with you at Clarifying Spaces? A: The process looks something like me making a huge mess, taking everything out of the space I’m working in to go through and separate into keep and give away piles, and then putting everything back up in a more organized fashion.  

Q: How much time do you typically dedicate to a particular job? A: Every job is different, but I’m extremely dedicated and prefer to work until it’s finished! Typically 7 hours max.   Q: Do you offer any kind of ongoing service at Clarifying Spaces? A: I offer all clients a “refresh” every couple of months to touch up any space I’ve previously organized to keep it functioning.   Q: How would you handle organizing a home that doesn't have a lot of storage/closet space? A: I’ve lived in small spaces so I have some creative ways, but I will say lots and lots of under the bed bins, and I definitely recommend getting furniture with storage like a lift top coffee table or ottoman.   Q: Is there anything else you would like potential clients to know about hiring Clarifying Spaces? A: I love working with people and will do anything in my power to make my clients feel comfortable and judgement free throughout the process! While working with me we're smiling, laughing, and relating! I like to feel as though we’re in this together and investing in your home.     Thank you so much to Claire Ward at Clarifying Spaces, professional organizer in Northern Virginia, for taking the time to answer these questions! If you're in need of some helping getting your house organized before your baby arrives (or at any point after as well), you can reach out to her at her website.  

Professional Organizer in Northern Virginia

  Since you're reading a blog about how Clarifying Spaces, professional organizer in Northern Virginia, can help you get your home ready for your newborn, I would love to talk to you about your maternity photography needs. Take a look at my portfolio above and reach out.   Interested in more motherhood content? Check out these blogs: - A Sleep Consultant in Northern Virginia | Interview with Susan’s Sleep Solutions - Fairfax Birth Care | An Informative Q&A with Doula Lauren Russo Read the full article

[southernchicstyle]

Mermaid Shell-a-bration

When your daughter loves mermaids and princesses, no doubt Ariel is one of their favorite princesses. So, a mermaid 5th birthday with Ariel was a dream come true for her #5 shell-a-bration!

From seashell floats to mermaid tail candle to tablecloths, linked sources throughout with a comprehensive list at the bottom of this post. Photos are by Paige Beitler Photography.

We’re fortunate in Houston to have Fairest of All Parties’ princesses available to book. We have used them 3 times and are blown away by the costumes, interactions, and beautiful songs every time. Houston friends, you can choose various options for princesses, superheroes, and other characters.

For the mermaid princess party, a mermaid cake was a must! Kingwood Bakery made the delicious colorful cake, and I added sugar seashells & seahorses, a mermaid tail candle, crushed graham cracker as “sand”, and the Five cutout cake topper.

Since my daughter loved sparkly things and sequins give a water effect, I went with a blue/turquoise sequin tablecloth that switched to a pink/purple color when you move the sequins for the kids’ table. 

To set the tablescape, I used vases with sand in the bottom and aquarium grass on top in blue and pink along with coral that can be used in an aquarium and seashells sprinkled around. An iridescent shell plate coordinated perfectly for the place settings. (If you want to secure the plates, curled up packing tape worked with the sequins and paper plates) 

If you’ve followed along for the other birthday parties, you know I love creating a good photo spot. For the mermaid party, I found this beautiful “under the sea” backdrop that went with the color scheme PERFECTLY! 

Balloon garlands are an easy way to frame things, so we assembled this balloon garland with turquoise, purple, pink, white, and blue balloons and added a mermaid tail to the end (purchased a garland set and added in the pink). We secured the backdrop and balloons to some wood panels my husband created for our daughter’s second birthday party and we now use for most parties. 

When I found the white seashell float with a “pearl” ball, I probably squealed with joy. It was the perfect addition to the photo wall. We also added one of the tablecloths we used on the adult table to the top of the backdrop to cover the wood but still give the water effect. 

Two other pink shell pool floats floated in the pool throughout the party for added decor and were great for the kids to play on once they jumped in.

Over the cake table, we secured another balloon garland we made with an iridescent background and pink 5 balloon. Here I used a white iridescent sequin tablecloth over a plain white one to add some texture.

Also on the tables, I used oyster/shell shaped bowls/dishes to hold food items and pull in the theme. The hope is that those dishes will find a decorative place in our home, but we have not found that spot yet post party. 

Next, the decorated cookies! It’s not a party anymore without them. Jenn’s Sweet Stuff created these beauties.

FOOD

A pink seashell, mermaid tail, and 5 cookie by Jenn’s Sweet Stuff were great decorative additions that also served as food. And, the “Make a Splash” napkins found were a coordinating dream! 

In various vignettes like the food table, we added shimmer gumballs in the party colors (purple, turquoise, white, & grey set and added pink) to tie everything together but also represent pearls. They were not all consumed at the party, but I loved how the gumballs looked in clear glass pieces. 

When thinking through food that was on theme and easy (that kids would also eat), these Nilla Wafer clam/oysters seemed like a home run. They were super easy! Nilla Wafers, icing (we went with pink) and chocolate pearls. Bonus, these were delicious!

Another cute food addition was making peanut butter and jelly in under the sea shapes. These were fun for the kids to choose, plus most love pb&j.

Browsing HomeGoods, I came across a mermaid mix popcorn that went so well with the colors and was a yummy snack. We poured the popcorn in little mermaid snack cups (listed as ice cream cups that are now sold out).

For another snack item, we created a mermaid mix of pretzels, chex mix, marshmallows, Froot Loops, Swedish Fish, and Goldfish. Mermaid popcorn boxes were easy to assemble and fill with the colorful snack mix. 

OUTFIT

What is a mermaid party without the perfect Mermaid dress?!? Cuteheads made a the prettiest Ariel inspired dress and we added a starfish headband to top it off. Sparkly shoes were necessary for our sweet mermaid!

Each friend also had a seashell drink cup to take home with them. 

I can’t help but really get in to a theme (I blame my mom who does the same), so continuing with food that coordinated: strawberry wafers, pink goldfish, and unicorn sandwich cookies that are purple and pink with blue crystal sprinkles and cake batter flavored! (We find the yummy unicorn cookies at Kroger)

Next to the platter of cookies, we made a charcuterie platter with cheese, fruit, nuts, dried apricot, crackers, and yogurt pretzels. 

My mom always helps with florals, and we located flowers that coordinated by color but also gave a little bit of a coral vibe. Don’t ask me the names of each (Mom could tell you) but I thought what we found accomplished that goal.

On our vine wall, the “FIVE” banner was displayed with seashell balloons on each side. 

The turquoise raised petal tablecloth has been such a great purchase on our end. We used them for my son’s fishing party and they were perfect with the mermaid theme. I also own the ivory color and am contemplating other colors as they look so luxurious.

Ariel made her way to the pool with Prince Eric and sang, read to the kids, and showed off her treasures. The kids had the best time and then got to swim with her! 

The bubble machine was on during the entire party and made for cute pictures during story time with Ariel. 

The birthday song was extra special with Ariel singing along, too!

FAVORS

For favors, the kids took home their seashell cups, mermaid towels they could use after swimming and take with them, and cute mermaid tail bags filled with gummy sea creatures, Princess Play Packs, a mermaid tail key chain, and a mermaid notepad with a feather pen. 

Iridescent Mother of Pearl film was a nice filler for the gift bags. The exact tags used on the gift bags have changed, but here’s the same shape in a different color - “Thank you for making my birthday a splash”.

It was a wonderful shell-a-bration topped off with a beautiful tiara Ariel gifted our sweet birthday girl! I hope you enjoyed following along and find all of the links you need. Feel free to message me if I missed something you’re looking for! 

Photos by Paige Beitler Photography

SOURCES

- Backdrop: Under the Sea Mermaid $15.99

                    Balloon Garland with Mermaid Tail $33.99

- Balloon: Pink 5 Balloon $6.28 

- Banner: FIVE Banner with Seashell Balloons $13.99

- Bowls: Seashell Bowl $9

- Cake: Kingwood Bakery

- Cake Topper: Mermaid Five Glitter Topper $7.99

- Candle: Mermaid Tail $12.99

- Centerpieces: Aquarium Grass $11.98 (comes with more than we used)

                         Coral in Pink & Blue $18.99

                         Assorted Seashells (50 pieces) $9

- Cookies: Jenn’s Sweet Stuff 

- Cookie Cutters: Under the Sea Cookie Cutters $8.99

- Dress: Cuteheads

- Favors: Mermaid Tail Favor Bag with Keychains (13 each) $13.59

               Sea Creature Gummies (80 count) $24.99

               Princess Play Pack (set of 15) $21.99

               Mermaid Notepad with Feather Pen (set of 12) $23.99

               Mermaid Beach Towel, Quick Dry $9.99

               Iridescent Film, Mother of Pearl (1 roll) $19.89

               Favor Tags (24 pieces) $6.99

- Gumballs: Purple, White, Grey, & Turquoise (2 lb bag) $14.24

                   Pink Shimmer (2 lb bag) $14.25

- Iridescent Fringe Curtain $9.99

- Mermaid Popcorn Containers (Pack of 36) $15.99

- Mermaid Princess: Fairest of All Parties (Houston, TX area)

- Plates: Iridescent Seashell Plates (set of 24) $23.55

- Pool Float: White Seashell with Pearl $51

                     Pink Seashell Floats (set of 2) $29

- Seashell Drink Cup $9

- Sugar Seashells & Seahorses $12.99

- Tablecloths: Turquoise/Pink Sequin Reversible $11.97

                       Taffeta Raised Petals Tablecloth $39

                       Iridescent Sequin Tablecloth $18

                         ____________________________________

BIRTHDAY ARCHIVES

4th Birthday: Swan Princess

3rd Birthday: Sundae Funday

2nd Birthday: Bubble Bash

1st Birthday: Garden Party (I managed to never share these... will have to post them once I catch up on parties for you all)

#mermaid birthday #mermaid party #princess ariel #under the sea #shellabrate #coral #seashell float #mermaid mix #ariel #mermaid decor #oyster decorations #mermaid decorations #birthday party planning #5th birthday #shellabration #mermaid shellabration #mermaid candle #mermaid cake #under the sea photo spot #under the sea backdrop