#If it has a screen Tumblr will be seen >:3

[wihellib]

I wanted to talk a bit about the Comiket Popularity Vote. The full list can be found here.

Levi was voted as #1 with almost 1500 votes above the 2nd place Beel. He wouldn’t have been my pick, but this result doesn’t really surprise me. His character archetype is very popular in Japan.

Satan being third is interesting simply because he is usually so dominant whenever the polls are conducted here on tumblr. But it just goes to show you that different fandom spaces can have very different opinions on characters.

I am surprised that Belphie is behind Michael, seeing as he is a King and I really thought all the Kings would have top ranks, but Michael managed to sneak himself in there. Well, he is very pretty. Good for him.

Then, Zagan was 8th and had the top spot of all the lower ranks. This came of nowhere for me. I am very neutral on Zagan. I can see his appeal but not so much that it’s above literally every other lower rank as well as L characters like Gabriel and Raphael. I am very curious about what makes him so attractive to the fans at Comiket.

The results seem to mostly follow the pattern of: more screen time = a higher spot. Not totally though, there are some outliers. Astaroth being so high up is odd, since we haven’t seen him in the main story and only minimally in events.

Belial and Stolas’ positions are also odd for the inverse reason. We’ve seen them quite a lot, Belial is even in the main story and has an H scene, but they are in the bottom 3. I am curious about the reason for their dislike.

Now, the fact that you could vote multiple times for the same guy skewed the results a bunch I’m sure. I would have liked to see the breakdown of single votes only and how that would have changed the placements.

I really hope they’ll do more more polls like this, but open it up to everyone who plays the game. Other gacha games have an announcement in game that they’re having a survey, and you can click a link that takes you to a website where you can give your opinions to specific questions. There’s no reason WHB can’t do this.

Everyone who is a fan of the game should get a voice in which lower rank demon will get an L card, not just a specific group of people.

The most fair (and comprehensive) way to do this would be a ranked choice poll. You choose your top three S and/or A+ rank demons, where 1st gets 3 points, 2nd gets 2 Points, and 3rd gets 1 point. Adding up all the points, whoever has the most will be people’s overall most wanted.

[oopbackinmymcdphase]

Paraphrased from the minecraft wiki for context: The Warden is a hostile mob summoned by sculk shriekers in the deep dark biome. It attacks by swinging its arms downward and can also release a sonic boom attack that homes in on the target and can pierce through obstacles. Wardens are completely blind and rely on vibrations, smell, and touch to detect players and mobs to attack.

My head hurts rn, I hope this is comprehensible:

When isolated out in the Nether’s wilds, Shadow knights will eventually revert to a type of monster called a hunter for their own protection. The Hunter, the nether’s species of Warden, has a different name as despite having some similarities like their lack of sight, hostility towards other living beings, and abnormal strength, they’re different in more important ways. Hunters tend to retain quite a few human features, actively seek out prey, and can decipher sources of noises. Where a warden attacks sound indiscriminately, a hunter would be able to recognize the difference between not just a human and an animal, but individual humans. A hunter will exclusively protect themself and will not enter fights it has a risk of losing, whereas a warden exclusively protects their city. A hunter shriek stuns prey rather than injuring it, and they use a multitude of different attacks instead of simply hitting things.

Laurence ends up stranded in the wilds after being separated from his rebellion during an ambush and the natural behaviors of a hunter combined with his rage towards Shad’s men for slaughtering his soldiers results in one of the worst cases of a hunter the Nether has ever had. Not only is Laurence going out of his way to hunt and kill other shadow knights, but he’s doing so without Gene or Shad knowing. They have no record that Laurence’s body wasn’t recovered after the ambush, they have no idea that a hunter is what’s slaughtering the knights they’re finding dead.

Ty for being so patient also AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

FERAL LAURANCE SMKDBUSKODNKISINDKOSNKDINSNIS . Let him SLAY let him DEVOUR figuratively and literally! This more is so cool omGGGGG '\(><)/'

[tommyssupercoolblog]

hey how much is sapnap and matpat in the new tommyinnit video, i want to watch but i don't really want to see them

Matpat isn't in it. Sapnap is but it's just Tommy seeing him coming out of a store, asking if he's fucked up mentally, sapnap says no and Tommy is like "nice seeing you" very dryly and sarcasticly, and leaves. A lot of people say Tommy was being a bitch to him on purpose but he has autism and I ALSO have autism so....idfk

[seelestia]

⟡ within your waking thoughts (there i’ll be).

⎯ what do they do when they miss you? how do they cope with yearning when you're away? { y for yearning ノ ordered by @floraldresvi! (sorry for the ping!) }

RESERVED FOR! ノ characters. aventurine, sunday, dr. ratio ft. gn!reader. { 1.3k words }

FLAVOR! ノ genre. fluff, slight angst (my apology to sunday lovers yet again), established relationship.

TOPPINGS! ノ tags. aventurine has his tech savvy moment, pre-2.2 sunday (heavy references but no spoilers), ratio has two phones (king of separating work & personal life !!!).

BAKER’S NOTE! ノ thoughts. a repost! bcs tumblr didn't like it the first time. hopefully, this one will be here to stay. thank u to vivi for requesting this ‹3

© seelestia on tumblr, may 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

in your absence, aventurine welcomes little thoughts of you that float around his mind with open arms - and the way he indulges them is by simply texting you. effective and efficient, there is a reason why the cosmos calls it the second most used means for long distance communication. what about the first? well, he would've opted for calling you with his earpiece if only his line of work doesn't require 90% of its usage time.

let's just say the idea of fellow stonehearts interrupting his conversation with you ruins the fun. besides, he has deft fingers; coin tricks aren't the only thing in his book, you know, typing a few sentences in one go is no problem at all.

but maybe, he is using that too much to his advantage . . . considering the “25+” staring back at you from your notifications every few hours or so. aventurine is truly, irrevocably relentless.

anything even remotely in your favorite color found within his vicinity? new message: Saw something that reminded me of you, you must really like crossing my mind.

an item he thinks would fit you well? new message: I got you a gift. Does it suit your fancy? [1 attachment]

reminded of how cruel fate is to separate you two for so long? new message: Haven't seen your face in a while. Fifteen hours are a total too cruel, don't you agree?

have faith that you will never grasp the true meaning of boredom when you’re apart from him. luck follows a man like aventurine, so do interesting events - remember how he won a vacation to a resort with one chip? he revels in telling you stories of his encounters while you're away. it is as if thrill revolves around him constantly. . . one wonders just how he fares living on the edge of it all.

(you, for one, are aware of his ways. he has allowed you to wander far enough behind his masquerade, after all.)

of course, texts on an illuminated screen can barely compare to seeing you in person. he prefers having you in his arms instead - but he'll live. solitude is an old friend of his, albeit distant and cold, aventurine can deal with its company every once in a while. at the end of the day, he knows you’ll be there when he comes home.

though, it's such a shame he cannot see your face when you're apart. the curve of your lips as you smile, the twinkle in your eyes with his reflection in them, and. . . ah, seems like he is making this harder for himself. maybe, he should consider buying that HD holographic communicative device on the market? his ears caught wind of some P45 officers at pier point whispering about it before.

it'll cost a large sum of credits but hey, he thinks it'll be worth it. for you? anything is possible.

(...him? clingy? well, guilty as charged.)

sunday’s self-discipline is not something to be underestimated. halovians are a species known for their enchanting voices, yet he feels as if he cannot spare any for even his inner thoughts. what an irony. his longing for your presence is persistent, tumbling at the edge of his tongue - but he is equally as, if not more, stubborn and so he swallows this yearning down instantly.

you are not confined to the dreamscape like he is, as self-imposed as that may be. sunday is aware of that, hence his first instinct is to keep quiet. the curse of sealing his lips till forevermore; watching you leave through the grand doors, letting his gaze fall to where your shadow used to be, savoring the last of your remaining fragrance from when you last bade him goodbye - all without a word.

(don't go, he wished he could say.)

is it a bad habit? “your voice shouldn't be used just to utter words that others want to hear,” you reminded him once. “it's also for you. it's yours.”

but even then, your words are akin to a faint whisper; muffled by the thoughts that plague his mind like a mist. he can't help how they fog up his reflection in the mirror, leaving remnants of something acrid that wafts in the air. something like doubts, sunday would know because he has dwelled in it for as long as he remembers.

you are outside, fluttering your wings in the sky and enjoying what it has to offer. does he have any rights to disturb you? perhaps, in his eyes, sunday views himself as a string tied around your talon, trailing all the way from the heavens where you soar to the humble ground where he resides. each time your absence compels him to reach out, it is as if he’s tugging on that string and dragging you lower from the height you truly relish in, from the height you deserve to be at.

(sunday believes that you belong to the sky, unlike him.)

so here, he shall stay and here, he shall wait until you return. sunday’s heart begins to grow cold - but the farewell kiss you've left on the apple of his cheek hasn't faded. its warmth remains, even when he brushes his freezing hand against it, it remains.

you remain.

(and that is enough for him.)

dr. ratio is a man with a packed schedule, so it's safe to say he keeps himself occupied particularly well. tasks at the intelligentsia guild are nothing short of demanding, after all. there are researchers asking for his input left and right, although some tremble while speaking to him even when he hasn't even uttered a word yet. ignoring that, he also aids in projects that require his expertise. last but not least, his students and classes which he takes very seriously.

(but be careful with how you phrase it — the doctor doesn't view them as distractions, no, he sees them as his responsibilities — saying the former might offend him.)

as you can see, he is perfectly capable of spending time away from you. . . .or at least, until it's time for a break and a part of that perfection chips off.

his office is quite tranquil, free from outside noise, just the way he likes. this place bears a similar purpose as his headgear, to let him focus in silence without disturbance - but he hasn't expected that exact silence to be this deafening. hah, how absurd! in what realm of possibility could silence ever be associated with deafening as an adjective? he supposes it could be a case of tinnitus. . . but veritas knows that isn't the case.

something's missing and it is, much to his dismay, you.

veritas has his standards. he prefers things to be set at a specific level - and this level of silence, one marred further by your lack of presence, is too low for him. he's getting too used to seeing you barge into his office with neatly packed sandwiches in your hands, a revelation he'd rather keep to himself.

veritas reaches for his personal phone, his work one left neglected at the far end of the desk. he considers making a call to you but the clock is ticking. tick tock tick tock, as if to hang the fact that his break is reaching its end over his head.

utilizing whatever time he has left, his finger gives the gallery app a tap. various pictures pop up on the screen; selfies of you with silly expressions, candid shots of veritas himself and some photos of random objects like your matching mugs. all of these were taken by you, of course. seriously, is this his phone or is it yours?

who knows at this point? he nearly lets out a snort, but that smile on his face is fooling no one. the doctor continues scrolling through his gallery, utterly content with just this until he gets home. to you.

(yes, yes, this still counts as keeping himself occupied. thank you for your concern.)

— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated.

[sunshineandspencer]

Friendly face (Part 3)

A/N: I know I said I always succumb to peer pressure, but that did not need to be tested. Also if I did a Hotch(or Spencer) taglist, would anyone be interested, also.. how do you do a taglist?? I may be 20 and from the UK, but I have only been using tumblr for about two months, I’m learning (slowly). [I’ve made a form for a taglist!! it’s underneath the parts!!]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Receptionist!Reader.

Summary: Little does the team know, their little receptionist and their Unit Chief had been closer for a lot longer than any of them knew. And while he’s brilliant at hiding it, she is now.

Word Count: 825

Warnings: please, stop requesting the fluff it hurts my little heart

part 1! and 2!!

be added to the taglist!!

Honestly, she could come to work with a massive neon sign floating above her head saying ‘stupidly in love with Aaron Hotchner’ and it would have probably the same effect as she normally does to him.

While he goes through the rules, needing to check about whether their relationship - yes, relationship - was actually legal, they needed to keep it secret.

A serious conversation they’d had over dinner well over six months ago, one that she’d seem to conveniently forget whenever they were actually in the office together. Thankfully that isn’t very often, unless he’s personally asked for files she stays by her desk.

Sometimes, he will admit, he requests reports just to get her into the office, but not very often.

However, it seemed to have been just often enough for his coworkers - Emily, mostly - to realise. From there, and after getting everyone else to join her, they were trying to find exactly how much the pair actually cared for each other.

Crowding together at the round table, quickly giving everything they’d noticed before Hotch arrived.

Emily starts, grinning at both Morgan and Spencer, nothing better than a bit of office gossip.

“So, she doesn’t hide anything. But, we’re all well aware that he sometimes uses excuses to get her into his office. But I noticed that she always leaves post-it notes on the files that she does give him, and they do look sickeningly sweet. It’s hard to believe Hotch actually likes that.”

Spencer chimes in, wringing his fingers lightly. He loves gossip as much as the next person, but the receptionist is a sweetheart and treats him so kindly, plus he doesn’t really believe in talking about other people’s business.

However, he’s invested in her happiness, and knows that there’s more to the pair than meets the eye.

“Well.. he smiles at her, more than I’ve ever really seen. And he does things for her that he wouldn’t do for anyone else. He helped her set up her desk and made sure she settled properly with the team.. plus Penelope found the paperwork and he requested her to be moved up.”

“What?! She didn’t tell me that!” Morgan looked pretty dejected, and Emily could only pat his back apologetically. But as much as they want to say that Morgan is her favourite, Spencer is everyone’s favourite.

He just shrugged, and Morgan kept talking, needing to add in what he’d seen - and profiled - about the two of them.

“Whatever. We’ve all seen how smitten Jack is with her, kid practically has hearts coming from his eyes. And I heard them talking about her having stayed over on the weekend. And we all see the way Hotch is with the two of them, it’s like the past decade of the job lifts off him.”

They all eventually came to the agreement that they believed that Hotch and their receptionist were together, and they needed to know more. The achilles heel of most profilers, the desire for gossip whenever they can get it.

Hearing footsteps approaching, they quickly nominated Spencer to ask Hotch, panicking the younger agent as he spluttered over his words.

As Hotch stepped through, with her following close behind, files in her hands as she waited for Hotch to take them. Waving to the rest of the team happily, very grateful the images weren’t on screen yet. Emily booted Spencer under the table and he jolted, getting Hotch’s attention.

“Hotch!” His voice cracked, how cute. “I uh- we, we wondered if you and uhm.. if you two--”

Christ, she wanted to take pity on the poor boy, looking up at Aaron. Thankfully he seemed amused rather than irritated that they’d worked it out. Looks like they got their answers on whether or not the relationship was allowed.

He nodded at her softly and she grinned, leaning up to peck his lips quickly, stuffing the files into his hands.

“Let me know if you take the case?”

“I’ll text you.”

Grinning, she winked at Spencer, which earned her a warning “sweetheart”, which only fed into her giddiness now that they didn’t have to hide it. Loving the surprised looks on their faces, even though Morgan was definitely acting as if he knew the whole time. Exactly as Aaron said he would, god she loves that he knows them so well.

“Stay safe you lot. Bring my boyfriend home safe or I’ll hunt you down!”

As she walked out of the briefing room, she smacked Aaron’s ass and scampered off giggling, being followed with his scolding voice.

“Dove.”

Eventually, he had to turn back around to his grinning teammates - bar a very embarrassed Spencer who now avoided his boss’ gaze - he sunk into his chair. Waiting for whichever one was going to say something first.

Emily, of course, was the one to speak up first, looking at him all innocently as if she didn’t know damn well what she was doing.

“Dove~?”

“Don’t push it.”

Want more?! Good!

[aluciahaz]

may i just say that your character writing is AMAZING! i honestly don’t check up on your blog a lot but when i do i’m left SHAKING because your shit is soooo hot.

Anyways i humbly come requesting mommy kink with vox because you know i’m all about that. he’s so desperate for validation and scared of rejection i feel like he’d be weeping at a domme mommy type reader. Anyways, do what you want with this!

once again i love your work! sincerely, bimbo <3

oh my god it's one of my favorite writers on tumblr🦅 thank you so much for the compliment it means a lot 😭 also i loved writing this ive desperately needed more vox asks! hope you enjoy! (kinda went ham on metaphors 💀 mb)

greed never stops

—vox x f!reader

—includes: overstim, tons of crying, begging, light bondage

vox was a walking, living(?) juxtaposition.

he’ll go barking orders to his subordinates, control most situations with smooth, quick thinking, and command his business with an iron fist.

but with you, the other side of his screen is on full display. his vulnerable, attention-desperate, failure-fearful self. you’ve seen it enough times to notice how it seeps into his daily life. how his control is really just a mechanism to take hold of his vulnerability, hiding it behind a mess of steel wires to make anyone who would try and reach it get tangled in its grasp.

but the moments he lets you untangle his facade, allowing you to see his true self, he feels free. even if most of the time it was during more intimate moments in the night. it was where he could truly indulge in his unfamiliar desires, crying and begging for the validation he was always seeking.

and you were the one he needed it from.

your praise was one of the highest in the hierarchy of compliments, making him feel like he was burning up, frying his brain in a way that made him feel like he’s short-circuited, but the feeling of fuzziness was intoxicating. he could never give up the taste of your compliments.

“come on, aren’t you a good boy? you can hold out for a little longer.”

those words were like rich liquor, and vox was an eager drinker. it swirled his thoughts into a never-ending spiral, and he could only cry in response as you touched his face with a gentleness that rivals an angel’s.

“b-but, mommy—!” he sobs as your fingers drive into him for what seems the thousandth time, his voice module starting to struggle as he tries to speak.

“oh?” you raise your eyebrow, feigning shock before narrowing your eyes, pressing him further down the sheets in disdain. is he still being ungrateful?

“but what, huh? don’t tell me you need more already! you’re such a greedy fucking slut,” you spit out, watching his eyes shoot open from the whiplash of your cruel words. “maybe i should stop—,”

“NO! nono, please! no! i’m sorry—!” he keens as your fingers slowly start to slip out of him, the sound so indecent it makes him shiver.

he pushes his hips up into your hand, trying to follow them only for your other hand to shove his hips back down on the sheets, your fingers twisting nearly all the way out before ramming back in, curling in wickedly that seems to shut him up briefly as he catches a breath that ran away.

vox weeps, unable to do anything else as his claws rip into the mattress, his legs shake and tremble as though they weren’t practically crushing you before. he seems so fragile at this moment, yet you knew he could take much more.

he just didn’t deserve it.

he whines and screams at your touch, tears starting to fall down his pretty little face as the small amount of dignity he had seems to get lost, overrun by your torturous fingers and unyielding pleasure that shoots through his body like a current.

“mommy—ha—please jus—zz—t fuck me, oh, god!” his head drops back down onto the pillows as your fingers wrap around his weeping cock, making his back arch as he sobs out noncoherent pleads. it’s beautifully pathetic.

his legs, weak and feeble, were strewn across the bed with previous markings trailing up his inner thigh, his neck even more decorated with a necklace of red, the glimmer of sweat that covers his whole body making those bites shine similar to crude rubies.

his hands, now tied with his own wires behind the bed (he charges there before he goes to sleep) were sullied with crimson from the tightness of the metal around his wrist, but not as bright crimson as his eyes, which flashed with bright red hearts intermittently. it was always a pleasant surprise, and a sign that he fucking loved this. no matter how much he complained at the start, his eyes spoke the truth.

which is why now, as you replace your fingers with his favorite strap, you know he’s absolutely overjoyed as those beating hearts seem to overtake his pupils once more, pulsating with a hypnotizing spiral.

“finally—! oh—zzz—FUCK!” his last word is practically inaudible with the airiness in his voice, his tone starting to distort, yet, your pace was slow. shallow, even. tears of frustration started to form at the ends of his eyes, his whines more pitiful as he tries to fuck himself back on your strap, only to be stopped by your sturdy grip on his hips.

“what do you say, vox?“ you asked, irritation slipping into your voice. how could he still be so ungrateful? but, he catches on fast, looking up at you with round, glossy eyes.

“thank you! thank—thank you, mommy!” he stumbles out before you switch up your pace instantly, brutally ramming into him just how he likes it. it makes him unable to fathom he could have been known to be anything but yours, surrendering his well-built persona to you. all of it, for your praise.

“such a good boy.”

those words were priceless, but he always ends up trying to buy them with obedience. and even though he’s successfully checked out with such praise, they still have the same effect on him every time.

he shudders and wails with ruined pitch, his screen flickering in and out of error messages and his lovely expression as he gets his reward. there was just something so satisfying about earning your praise.

sure, he can buy pretty much anything, and yes, he can get people to kneel at his feet, but he can’t cry without shame, or indulge in his true desires of being completely wrecked with soft words and fast hips with anyone. no, it could only be you. and even if he practically has everything under his hands, he will always be greedy for your affection, begging, screaming for a chance to have it set his whole body ablaze with its foreign warm feeling.

it makes him lost. no matter how much intelligence vox has, he always finds himself unable to search his way out of the feeling of pure lust overtaking his senses when you fuck him with abandon, his need to keep face seemingly never being there in the first place as tears make him short-circuit, and pleads for you to never stop. he doesn’t want to leave this labyrinth of carnality. he wants to stay lost in it forever.

it’s why even after he cums with a high-pitch sob so loud you thought his volume module broke, he kept weeping incoherently as the lights flicker in the room, his legs practically numb. and finally, he looks up at you, sniffling and choking on his words he’ll pretend to regret the next morning.

“m-more. please, mommy—! AH!” his whole body jolts as you heed his wishes, leaving him to fall back into the pleasure that he craves. he babbles on and on with thank yous and nonsensical sentences, the night seeming to become never-ending even with daybreak inching closer and closer.

vox is unable to speak at the end, and god does everything fucking hurt. his arms ache and his legs are definitely going to be an issue when he has to walk. there are marks all over his skin that will never see the light of day, yet be around for plenty of nights.

but you both know he’ll come back for more. his greed is an unquenchable thirst, and your praise is the only fountain that seems to satiate it, even if only for a little while.

(i totally didnt forget to tag)

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck

[2knightt]

may u do the gang with a significant other who is in a popular band or actor? up to four preference of course. lots of love!

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ darling, can i be your favourite? ⋄ 𓍯

REQUESTED: reader’s the coolest person ever and the gang’s their biggest fan!

tags/warnings: headcanons, gn!reader, reader is a singer/popstar!reader, gang is obsessed, reader is big time famous, near the end they got shorter because my tumblr started lagging.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ hey my love !!! seen this after i posted and knew i had to get to work 🙂‍↕️ also while i was working on this, i got a req for actor!reader..ur in luck🤭

—

johnny cade

╰┈➤ now playing. — espresso, y/n l/n

how he bagged you, the world may never know. like seriously.

YOU’RE ON THE BIG SCREEN AND YOU’RE IN THE RADIO AND YOU GO AFTER JOHNNY CADE??? everyone was shocked. lives were CHANGED.

“you’re dating who?”

“..y/n l/n?”

“in your dreams maybe???”

“fuck you?”

nobody believed him because you confessed to him over the phone when you were touring 😔! you realized you really liked johnny when you had to be away from him for so long.

so for like that period of time, it was just call after call of you two giggling back and forth.

the gang, swear to fucking god, knew he was talking to someone but they thought he was lying about who he was talking to

UNTIL YOU CAME BACK!!!!

Then they were all,

“what the fuck….”

“can i like—borrow a 20?”

“DAMN”

spoil him. take him with you. protect johnny cade with ur money or else. i find you.

but seriously, pleaseeee make sure johnny lives the life he deserves ☹️ since you’re a singer, you make a FUCK ton of money

put it to good use (spending it on johnny cade)

hey! you’re all he talks about!! HE DOESN’T STFU THAT HE’S DATING SOMEONE THAT’S FAMOUS.

“what ‘bout you, lil’ boy? you got someone?”

“hell yeah. y/n l/n.😇💯”

“..the singer?”

“damn right, ‘the singer’!”

listens to your music when he misses you!!

OH MU GOD WRITE A SONG ABOUT JOHNNY CADE PLEASEEEE AND WEAR HIS JEAN JACKRT ON STAGE PLEASEEEEEEE

i can’t stress how much he loves you

he has photos of you everywhere. and anywhere.

steals magazines you model for to promote your albums<3

dallas winston

╰┈➤ now playing — nonsense, y/n l/n.

why would you pick him.

shame on you. you have celebrities flocking to you and you pick some guy in tulsa who’s in jail every friday.

tsk tsk. whatever makes you happy!

ANYWAYS

also, never shuts the fuck up about you. like seriously, somehow, you’re always the topic of conversation.

“yeah, that’s crazy that she slashed your tires. my LOVELY Y/N would never tho. did you know they sing? you’ve probably heard of ‘em-“

MAKES YOU WEAR HIS RINGS WHEN YOU PERFORM!!! AND SOMETIMES HIS LEATHER JACKET!!! DALLAS DGAF IF IT’S DIRTY OR NOT

He needs those freaks in the crowd to know you’re HIS—not theirs just because you’re famous.

if you ever collab with a dude he’s gonna fucking lose his mind i’m not kidding

“YOU’RE GOING TO THE STUDIO WITH WHO???”

“i told you-“

“yeah, i know. lets go.”

dallas invited himself btw.

dedicate a song to him and he’s literally gonna make EVERYONE listen to it. when it comes on the radio, he’s IMMEDIATELY turning up the volume.

“looking at you got me thinkin’ nonsense.”

“that’s about me, by the way.”

“WE KNOW.”

“YOU TELL US THIS EVERY DAMN DAY”

“yeah. where’s your partner that write songs about you? huh? take that shit up with someone else.”

IN HIS ROOM HE HAS SOOO MANY POSTERS OF YOUUUUUU

cannot believe he got so lucky and bagged you

he used to pray for days like these😭😭🙏

ponyboy curtis

╰┈➤ now playing — work song, y/n l/n.

yes, i did make your song more poetic than the rest. that’s just what ponyboy is into and gets him crying.

did he get lucky? yeah. does he acknowledge that every waking moment of his life and devotes himself to making sure you never feel the burden of having to perform daily?

yeah

helps you write songs sometimes. ponyboy naturally has a poets soul so USE IT TO YOUR ADVANTAGE

GUVE HIM A FUCKING OEN AND PAPER AND HE’S WRITING A HIT SINGLE

omgomg if you credit him while at your concerts he might faint<3333

spoil him and his brothers.

his brothers are included because you see how much they’re struggling and it literally pains you to see the love of ur life get so frustrated over money

sneakily put money into darry’s wallet when he isn’t looking and ponyboy might just kiss u right then and there

it’ll take awhile for him to accept the help, but when he does—he’s so grateful to have an angel like u in his life😭😭💔💔💔

“i love you. did you know that?”

“of course i do, pony.”

“i should tell you that more often.”

uses a photo of you as a bookmark btw. it’s you in his favourite outfit you ever wore, performing the song you made for him.

ponyboy’s obsessed.

shoves ANYONE off the tv to watch you perform. he doesn’t care. and the gang lets him<3 cuz they know how much you mean to their little pony!!

not without teasing. never without teasing. ponyboy is never fucking free

“soda, it’s my turn on the tv.”

“what? you tryna watch your girlfriend?”

“…shut up.”

“look at you! what a loverboy, huh? you loveeeee her, don’t you?”

“man, just get off the tv!”

watches & listens to everything you’re in. wether it be interviews, music videos, etc—he can probably quote it. every part.

he’s so obsessed with you it’s not fucking funny

sodapop curtis

╰┈➤ now playing — that boy is mine, y/n l/n.

it couple. genuinely.

you got soda more publicity and modeling agencies have definitely hit him up LMFAO

he most definitely has modelled with you for covers :3c

BUT OTHER THAN THAT

oh u better fucking believe that the DX is always playing your music

SODA DOESNT CARE IF HE’S NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH THE RADIO

he will. and he will be playing the song you made about him to remind the girls that go to flirt with him that he’s yours.

HE HAS A NECKLACE WITH YOUR INITAL ON IT AND YOU HAVE A NECKLACE WITH HIS INITAL!!1!1!1!1!1

flash it when paparazzi takes photos and he WILL put that photo in his wallet to show people when they ask about his partner.

CANT STFU EVEN IF HE FUCKING TRIED

soda makes u his whole personality

“sigh😔 y/n would’ve loved this beat..”

“SHUT UP ABOUT Y/N😒”

“NO?? I LOVE THEM!!!???”

LOVES PRACTICING UR CHOREOGRAPHY WITH YOU LMFAOOO

it’s so cute☹️☹️😔😔 soda might trip over his feet every once and awhile but he’s always laughing so hard with you when he does<3

darry curtis

╰┈➤ now playing — say yes to heaven, y/n l/n.

tries SOOOO hard to act like he doesn’t gaf that you’re singer but it’s so tough to not brag about it

the boys at work could be talking about their partners but when they go ask darry, he hides his grin and blush by looking down, running his hands through his hair.

“what ‘boutchu, kid? how’s the lover?”

“ah, y’know. they’re busy touring or in the studio.”

“eh?”

“oh—y/n l/n. they’re-“

darry cannot be stopped now. he won’t shut up about how great of a person you are, never letting the fame get to you.

ERAHHH HE STAYS UP LATE AT NIGHT TO WATCH YOUR PERFORMANCES WHEN YOU’RE AWAY!!!!!!! HE LOVES WATCHING YOU SWAY ACROSS THE STAGE!!

hehehehehe slow dance with him in the kitchen to ur unreleased songs you made about him…. 😈😈

PLEAEE HELP HIM FINANCIALLY PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

im begging you to just sit darry curtis down and try to convince him that, you giving him money to help around, isn’t an issue.

i don’t see darry moving out of the curtis house unfortunately, i think he will always view it as his parents house and it’s too sentimental.

so, don’t even bother asking him to move. but—do give him money. or sneakily pay the bills. whatever you have to do to help darry relax, please do it!!!

loves it when you sing slower/more relaxing songs

darry thinks it’s so attractive to hear your like soothing, breathy, and smooth voice.

he has a photo framed of you bowing toward the crowd below you, tightly holding the microphone that you had his name engraved in.

it’s currently beside his bed on his nightstand.

he looks at it every night before bed and every morning before work. <3

steve randle

╰┈➤ now playing — art deco, y/n l/n.

he’s feral. he’s fucking crazy about you.

“PUT ON THAT NEW Y/N SHIT‼️”

“why??”

“CAUSE I SAID SO?!1”

number one supporter. nobody comes close to him

AHHHH HE HAS A TATTOO DEDICATED TO YOU!!!! IT’S DEFINITELY A SONG LYRIC YOU WROTE ABOUT HIM IN UR HAND WRITING

when steve’s nervous he traces over it :3c

steve always finds himself, unconsciously, humming your songs while he works on cars!

i like to think his favourite colour is blue, so plsplsplspls wear blue (even if it’s a small accessory) to your concerts just so steve knows you’re always thinking about him.

he keeps little gifts, or rather the accessories you leave at his house, in a little box. he thinks they’re so cute and he will burn a building down before he lets anyone find out

two-bit mathews

╰┈➤ now playing — melting, y/n l/n.

“DID YOU KNOW I’M DATING Y/N? THE FAMOUS SINGER? YEAH, BET YOU WISH THAT WAS YOU😭😂!”

that’s every other sentence from his stupid lips!!

KNOWS EVERY LYRIC TO YOUR SONGS AND WILL SCREAM HIS FUCKING LUNGS OUT TO THEM!!!

attach a mickey charm to ur mic while you sing on stage and he’ll start foaming at the mouth..

two-bit’s all, “that’s for me.:mickey….me….me…mickey….”

he literally begs you to sing him to sleep

STEALS YOUR RECORDS/VINYLS???!!! HE HANGS THEM UP ON HIS WALL WITH SUCH CARE IT’S SO ADORABLE ☹️☹️

teach his little sister some of your dance moves and he might marry you tbh.

two-bit dreams of you and i’m so fucking serious

[a-bright-comet]

Jade Shadows Thoughts

(NOTICE: I have edited this post after a few days and many lovely replies and tags giving me more insight and opinions, overall my view of this quest has gotten a lot more positive, thank you all <3) okaaayyyy I am utterly rattled rn lmao also made the mistake of looking at tumblr after doing the quest and as expected it seems to be a 50/50 of hating or loving it. so here are my personal thoughts, I am a little scared but talk seems to be civil thankfully. I can definitely agree on the sentiment that this quest needed more time, cause let's be honest the people hating this quest wouldn't be jumping to the things they're jumping to if Jade herself got more screen-time before the big drop, warframe's style has always been vague and never 100% straight-forward and I think that unfortunately hurt it a bit this time, as what they didn't show came off wrong to many people and while I sorta see why I disagree on some parts. I also feel like the quest kinda got a bit *too* hyped both by DE and the fanbase's theories, way too short, it deserved and needed to be a bit longer for it's special narrative. Jade kinda got a weird spot, both being the main focus alongside Stalker but also hardly explored. But let's be honest, most of the negativity is caused by this outside-circumstance alone. Now, what I absolutely disagree with is people insisting that DE was trying to say "bodily autonomy bad" or that Stalker didn't care about her and only the child, thing is I thought it was pretty fucking clear that she *wanted* the child in what little was shown and she was going to die no matter the outcome (thanks to the orokin to absolutely no one's surprise) and Stalker in his guilt for all she's done for him wanted to make sure that he at least kept this one promise to Her, cause She wanted it. she still had bodily autonomy in the fact She wanted this, she wanted the child no matter what. and she wanted stalker to protect her and the kid. And he did, like a true loving partner. DE has a long track record of being very autonomy-positive. A point they make time and time again is that ripping it away is *bad* and horrifying, the quest is a bittersweet tragedy, not a horror. Honestly there would be 0 issue if DE had given us a Jade-only quest before this one, I personally would've preferred it as well, she's cool as hell she deserves it. who knows maybe DE will see all of this and make prequel quests? we can only hope. I do not want to assume the worst of anyone or anything cause that's a miserable existence. Look I personally enjoyed the quest and get the feeling whoever wrote it did it out of some personal experience or sorrow, that's at least the vibe I got. It's a tragedy, but her choice was seen till the end, many women choose to still have a child despite knowing they won't make it, many also don't, that's why choice is important. and she did, she chose her child that she was having while likely forcibly infested and turned into a warframe. (also remember there are women on the team who likely looked at this.) there are some other iffy parts of the quest, (really should've been the drifter instead of the operator if they were gonna do that, but that's personal discomfort.) but overall I enjoyed it and open to explore the implications of a born-warframe-child and Stalker healing as they both grow together. These are my thoughts, and I can understand why people like or dislike this quest, but I think it's fine and just ended up in a very unfortunate spot due to outside circumstances beyond it's control. (sorry if any of this comes off as aggressive it is not my intention despite how riled I am by some folk online, I disagree with you but I do not hate you, I don't even know you.)

Her choice, His promise, Their light.

Thank you for reading my first ever text post about something I care about, not sure I'll be doing this again any time soon out of anxiety lol (Edit: and thanks to everyone responding to this post wonderfully, ya'll are great and have lessened my anxiety and have made me appreciate this quest more <3)

[tainsan]

misfits (college!ateez x reader)

When your world comes crashing down, the only people who are able to comfort you are the notorious group, Ateez. You’ve heard rumour after rumour about the eight males who are ice cold, yet for some reason, they are the warmest people you know.

Please read me: {hello! so finally i have wrote enough for me to release the first chapter and i really hope it is good enough for the lovely people who have been patiently waiting. there will be more chapters to come in the future so please do look forward to them! just so you all know there is a few trigger warnings i have to go through so just in case you are uncomfortable with certain subjects to read with caution and with your own comfort in mind. at the start of every chapter i will put the warnings that correlate with the said chapter. in this story there are topics of swearing, depression, anxiety, ptsd, suicide, negelection and mental abuse. so if you are not comfortable reading these please either avoid this story or read with extreme caution. your wellbeing is more important than anything. 

Now like i said in my previous post, this is going to be a poly!ateez story so hence there will be future smut and suggestive themes (which i will also put in the warnings before the chapter starts) but the message in the story is very much about past trauma and finding people who can help, heal and love you despite your imperfections.

With that all said! I hope you enjoy the first chapter of ‘Misfits’ and thank you kindly for waiting. 

do not steal my work or repost on places other than tumblr. 

with thanks to @musicdork and @moraxology for the help and ideas shared with me. thank you <3

-----THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT-----

Misfits, Chapter 1

⇢ masterlist ⇠ 

⇢ next chapter

warnings: anxiety attack, swearing, mentions of a house fire.

word count: 8.8k

Heart dropping to your stomach, you attempt to make sense of the words that are displayed on the small illuminating screen sat in front of you. Devastation hits you like a ton of bricks as you realise once again, it feels like the world is trying to punish you. Reading over the email once again, you let out an exasperated groan and let your head fall down onto your arms relaxing on the table.

“You’re homeless?” Your best friend almost screeches, scanning over the email present on your small laptop screen. 

“Okay a little louder Jisung and the aliens on the Saturn will fucking hear you,” You react, your voice muffled by your clothes.

“What happened? I thought your place was in one of the nicer areas?” 

Looking up from the desk, you see Jisung peering at you with a concerned expression.

“Do you remember those new tenants that moved in below me?” you ask, causing Jisung to nod his head, "Well they accidentally started a fire, and it burnt down half of the place because the owners weren’t smart enough to install fire hydrants around the residence.

“Isn’t it illegal to not have designated fire hydrants in a building?” 

“Probably, I mean that’s what I get for going for the cheapest available housing I could find, they say it's going to take at least a year to repair the damage.”

"Are all of your belongings okay?" 

"Not really, I managed to save most things like my books and some clothes but everything else is burnt. They say they are going to give me some money back for the damage, but I doubt it’ll be much."

"Then where are you staying now?"

"Yeji said I could stay with her for a few days, but she has a roommate moving in soon, so I have to get out before the end of this week."

"You have to start looking for a place to live __, I wish I could help you," 

Jisung lives with his boyfriend and friends in great student accommodation, there are only four rooms, yet they manage to fit eight grown men in there. Sadly, there's simply not enough space for another person.

“I’m aware of that, but all the school properties are full, and I’ve seen no flyers from people searching for roommates. There’s no way I'm looking for housing outside of the area, I would have to sell both my kidneys to afford a month's worth of rent. This apartment was the only place that was in my budget if I didn't want a roommate. At this point, I should probably start looking for a nice cosy bridge to live under.” 

Jisung lets out a stifled laugh before quickly covering his mouth realising the two of you are residing in a library. Being in a secluded area, noise isn’t really a problem, yet three other people are sitting near you, resting on the opposite side of the large wooden table. Two huddled next to each other, sharing a laptop, likely watching YouTube and one with striking blonde hair resting his head on his arms, undoubtedly sleeping.

“How many days until you have to move out?” Jisung inquires, laying his head on his hand and gazing at you. 

“Uh, I think like a week,” 

“Oh, so it’s not like you have to move out right now,” your best friend replies, a calm smile covering his features.

“Yeah, but I doubt that somebody is abruptly going to need a roommate out of nowhere,” 

Then, you hear rustling, then suddenly the guy who was sleeping on your table abruptly stands up, grabs his things, and rushes out of the library. 

“Probably had a nightmare or something,” Jisung chuckles, lighting up your mood.

“When’s your next lesson?” You ask, hoping he doesn't have to leave too soon. 

Observing as Jisung whips out his phone and looks at the time, he lets out a sigh.

“Starts in seven minutes, it takes like five minutes to walk there. I better get going,” Jisung replies, grabbing his books and laptop.

“Must you leave so soon? You can’t leave me here to tutor for three hours straight.” You let out a fake cry and hang onto his arm, pleading for him to stay. 

“You're the one who wanted the extra credit, don't blame me!” 

Bickering for a minute more, you eventually let Jisung get to his class, the two others across the table departing as well, leaving you alone.

Grumbling to yourself, you wonder why you even offered to tutor people, the extra credit is little to nothing. Alas, it’s too late to back out now as you have two people arriving soon. Typically, you only take people who you know personally, but Jisung’s boyfriend, Minho, said two of his classmates requested him to ask you to tutor, telling him they really needed assistance in maths. You hope they are pleasant because you are not about to be spending the next three hours with two arseholes.

You also typically only take one person at a time but due to your current tight schedule, you decided to just do two at once. You need the time later to look for new places to live anyway. The unknown two needed teaching in the same subject at least, works out fine.

Returning to your laptop you start typing, trying to finish as much of your lab report as you can before they show up.

“No Yeosang said she was around this corner.” 

A hushed voice breaks you out of your concentration, yet you pay no interest and hurriedly get back to typing.

“You’re __ right?” A monotone voice speaks out from your left.

You turn upon hearing your name and see a guy standing next to where you are sitting. Quickly you scan over his face, noticing the way his cheeks display small dimples as his face shifts and the slit in one of his eyebrows.

“I’m San, Minho told you about us, right?” 

Noting the way he said ‘us’, you turn fully backwards and see a noticeably built man standing by San, his face holding little to no emotion as he stares blankly towards you. In your mind, you hope these aren’t the two you are tutoring, noticing how intimidating their presence is.

“We are here for tutoring lessons,” the unnamed person speaks, and you curse upon your luck.

“Oh right, you can take a seat where you’d like.”

You mentally cuss out Minho for not informing you about how intense and handsome his classmates were, you let out a scoff under your breath as you start to pull out your maths textbooks.

“So, what were your guy's names, I’m not too good with names so if I forget, please don't take it personally,” you shyly confess, hoping they are not going to take it the wrong way. You detect the way some sort of stunned expression goes across their faces, but it disappears as soon as it had appeared.

“I’m Choi San, good to meet you.” San nods in your direction, his emotions still unreadable, a subtle glare still present along his features.

“San, I see. You too,” You mumble, slightly scared by his strong character. You attempt a small smile and shake his hand, trying to ignore the way you feel his eyes boring into your skull. Moving your attention to the man sitting next to him, you smile gently, noticing the way his cheeks are dusted with a light pink colour.

“Choi Jongho,” He reaches out his hand and you gladly take it, feeling slightly less intimidated by the seemingly kinder man.

Replying with your own name, you realise they already knew it, making you curse yourself for the sheer awkwardness emitting from your body as you notice Jongho and San are neither looking at you.

Slightly glancing up at you, San notices your flustered state and a faint smile ghosts his face.

Shaking off your clumsiness rapidly, you start to focus on the task at hand.

“So, what are you two looking to go over today?” you ask, opening your notebook that was conveniently placed in front of you. What you don’t expect is Jongho and San immediately look at each other with wide eyes, almost as if they are taken aback by the question.

“You guys don’t know what you want to go over?” 

“No, sorry, we have been having problems with our two recent algebra assignments.” Jongho replies, his tough exterior cracking ever so slightly as he ruffles his black hair. 

“Okay then,” you answer, a little puzzled at the two's sudden and strange gestures, yet you pay no mind to it as you reach into your backpack to grab your mathematics textbook. You’ve seen much stranger things in this college anyway.

When you proceed with the session you are surprised by the two men sitting in front of you. Although being very intimidating, the two are very good listeners and attentive to everything you say or do. Writing notes and nodding at almost every word you say. After an extensive explanation, you let Jongho and San try to solve a practice question. During this time, you take the time to admire the two in front of you. You can see they are extremely close by the way their bodies face each other naturally, and the way they look at each other. Meanwhile, you can’t help but wonder why you haven't seen them on campus before. Certainly, you would've heard or seen something about these two very good-looking men, knowing how much the people here like to gossip. Well after all, you have never been one for gossip and fangirling over the popular campus heartthrobs. Brushing your thoughts to the side, you start to read over the same page for the fifth time.

After the second hour, it intrigues you how smart they are, only needing you to once go over something and they already have the answer or even occasionally you swear you see one of them write an answer without you describing how to find it. Perhaps they are fast learners? Due to the fact, they are so quick, it only takes two of the three hours for you to cover everything they wished to go over, and their assignments are almost finished, just needing the final touches.

"There we go,” you exclaim, stretching your arms over your head, letting out a content groan as you let your back straighten up, "if you need future help, you can always call me." Even though it’s perhaps pretentious to offer this to such tough guys, you’re happy to be able to have such good students who actually listen. Unlike your last session which you spent way too many hours on.

Jongho looks up from his laptop with a wide eye look, "that’d be helpful," 

"Can you take my number?" San holds his hand open, expecting your phone and you are shocked at his utter forwardness. Even though you know it’s not intended in a flirtatious way, your heart quickens at the gesture, never having been asked for your number before. 

Passing your phone to the male in front of you, you notice San observing the Sanrio stickers stuck to the back of it. The male lets out a short burst of air through his nose, and you don’t know whether he’s mocking you or scoffing. As you look at him to analyse his reaction, you see a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, but it doesn’t seem in a taunting way. You continue staring at him as he puts his number into your phone.

Unexpectedly he looks up and straight into your investigating eyes, catching you by surprise, immediately looking away from him and at the open book in front of you pretending to read it, even though you know he knows you have already read over the page multiple times in the past ten minutes.

“Wait, what time is it?" Jongho asks San. Watching San pull out his phone, you see a glimpse of his phone case, it looks something like a character, but you can’t see it as he places his phone face up on the table.

"Quarter to twelve," San responds, his phone screen lighting up for a split second, you manage to catch a quick sight of his lock screen. It appears to be a group photo, with numerous faces smiling brightly at the camera. So, they have more friends.

"We have about thirty minutes till ecology, do you want to go to the canteen?" Jongho questions as he begins to put his belongings into his bag. 

"I could use a snack,” San answers, stretching back into the chair, his arms above his head just as you did earlier.

"Coming with us?" Jongho asks as he stands up from his chair and pushes it back beneath the table.

Bewildered by the question, you wonder as to why they want you to come when they have been nothing but distant this entire time. Glancing back at your unfinished lab report displayed on your laptop, you feel conflicted. Yet a break from the tedious work would be rather nice. There's no harm in pulling another all-nighter.

"I could also do with something to eat," Your smile is bright as you stuff your laptop into your bag, happy to have a reason to escape the tedious work on the small screen of your laptop. 

It is a rather fast walk to the canteen; it is conveniently on the same wing as the library. Expecting the canteen to be full to the brim of students getting lunch, you’re surprised to see the canteen completely empty. You are rather pleased with the serenity of the canteen, feeling at ease that there are no judging eyes watching your every move. Pacing over to the cooled section of food, your footsteps echo in the large room, then you notice San and Jongho trailing after you, looking quite lost. 

"Have you guys never been to the canteen before or something?" You inquire, chuckling at their antics before grabbing a carton of banana milk and an apple.

"It's not particularly our scene, we eat our meals at our place." San answers, staring down at the banana milk in your hand. So, they live together, it makes sense seeing how close they are.

“You guys don't live in student buildings?” You question, that does explain why you've never seen them around, knowing most people who reside in the student dorms. You resume walking towards a table to sit, you grab two more banana milk before sitting down and popping a straw into your drink.

"No, we live near the new park, Eastwood Drive," Jongho replies.

This information almost makes you spit out your drink. Eastwood is not only part of a huge real estate area but one of the richest areas near our school. Absolutely no students would be able to afford that. It's an area full of houses like mansions or condos bigger than a regular house.

"Are you okay?" Jongho asks, hurriedly rushing to your side and patting your back, San chuckles at the scene and passes you a bottle of water from his seat. 

"Yes, I'm fine," You say between coughs, "thank you," you take a gulp of water from the bottle before handing it back to him.

"Sorry it's just, how on earth do you afford that house there's no way you guys just have it. Did you have to sell your soul to the devil or something?" 

Both males let out soft laughs and for the first time you see something other than scowls on their faces, instead replaced by gentle amusement.

"No, we didn't, one of our roommates' mothers is the owner of the real estate and she lets us live there," San answers your question.

"We do still have to pay rent, which is above average, but it's not anything like the rent we would have to pay if we were actually living there," Jongho adds, "plus we have quite a few roommates, so it's spread out pretty evenly." So, they have multiple roommates.

"I see," you hum as you let the information in. Of course, they have several roommates, the house is big enough for ten people, most likely. 

"And you?" Jongho questions looking at you. His expression is back to his resting face, until he realises his question, eyes going wide he continues, “not in a creepy, I'm sorry please don't take it the wrong way!" he rambles on. 

Laughing out, you wave your hands in a friendly way to dismiss his thoughts.

"No no, it's okay," you chuckle, not really sure how to explain to them that your house was recently made into a fresh stock of charcoal.

“It's kind of complicated I'll be honest," you start, San and Jongho’s expressions twitch in curiosity, "Well I was living at Coast Lane," 

"Oh, the one near the shopping centre?" Jongho inquires. You nod your head back in confirmation.

"Wait but wasn't that place burnt down a few days ago?" San asks, looking at Jongho and then back at you with a worried look. Their hearts fill with worry for you.

"Yep," you say, popping the p at the end, "that's why I said I was living," you say looking down, chucking dryly.

"Where are you living now then?" San asks, his voice laced with something similar to worry. 

"I'm staying at a friend's house, but they are getting a new roommate at the end of this week, so I need to move out by then." 

"Have you found anywhere to live yet?" Jongho questions, looking sorrowful. You are surprised by the amount of worry you suddenly feel from San and Jongho. However, you shake your head as 'no' and proceed to take another sip of your drink. 

"I have an idea." San abruptly says standing up from his chair, catching your and Jongho's attention, "Excuse me I have to talk to someone, Jongho. Joong." 

Jongho's eyes light up with some sort of awareness and he also rapidly stands from his chair, leaving you even more confused, unsure where the sudden energy comes from, you also wonder who the fuck 'Joong' is and why do they need to see him so suddenly. 

"See you soon, __.” Jongho’s smile is warm and contagious, he then turns to leave with the taller man.

"Wait, guys!” You exclaim, "here," you hand them both a cartoon of banana milk that you grabbed earlier. "Drink these, you can't focus if you're dehydrated, " you say, heat rising up from your chest. 

Both of the men look at you shocked at the kind gesture, surprised someone actually cares about their well-being. Giving you a thank you, the two men leave with red subtly covering their cheeks, both trying to immediately force it away before someone sees them with a giddy expression.

 ----

"Then they just stood up and left," You replay the events from earlier today to Jisung, who is sipping on a mojito. After the busy day you both shared, Jisung and you decided to go to a bar that recently opened not too far from campus. It is small and cosy, not too full of people, mostly students from your school rewinding from the day, just like you.

"Psycho behaviour," Jisung jokes whilst you take a sip of your drink. Laughing, you push Jisung's arm gently.

"I don't know, they were certainly intimidating but I could tell they were okay people," you exclaim truthfully. If you said that the three hours you spent with the two weren't pleasant you’d be lying.

"Do you have a crush on them or something?" Jisung inquires, rather loudly, getting far too excited. Hoping that no one heard him through the low jazz music resounding in the small bar, you quieten down your best friend quickly by covering his mouth with your free hand.

"Ji the entire bar does not need to know about my personal endeavours, and no I do not have a crush on them, they are just simply cute," you say exasperated.

“So, you do find them cute! The last time you had a crush as back in high school, this is big news,”

“There is no news dumbass, they are just cute. I find kittens cute, and I don’t want to date them.”

Jisung’s face contorts into a mixture of disgust and humour.

"Wait, what are their names?" Jisung questions his voice back to a reasonable volume.

"Choi San and Choi Jongho, I've never even heard of them, to be honest. You'd think I would've seen these handsome men bef, what is with that look on your face?" you stop your ramble as you see the very obviously shocked look on Jisung's face. 

"Are you fucking serious?" Jisung says slowly.

Confused, you simply answer, "yeah they needed help with maths. it was your boyfriend who set the tutor session up."

"Yeah, because they probably threatened him?" Jisung says tensing up.

"What do you mean threatened, they were huge sweethearts," you say amused at Jisung. Your laughing momentarily halts when you see the serious look on Jisung's small face.

"What is it?" 

"___, Choi San and Choi Jongho are part of that group." 

Your baffled expression remains on your features, clearly unfazed by this information.

"What is that like a cult or something?" you joke.

"Girl, are you living under a fucking rock? Ateez, the group called Ateez. The super scary ones practically haunt this school. I'm surprised they talked to Minho. I'm pretty sure he's going to be scarred now."

Slowly but surely, your brain starts to put things into place.

"Wait, that group Sola told us about?”

As Jisung confirms your question, you feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise. A few months ago, you had been told by some classmates about them briefly, they were talking rather loudly about them. Apparently, they had done some terrible things when they were in high school then just disappeared for a few years. Most people thought they dropped out or moved abroad. The year they returned, they started this university out of nowhere together and have been a notorious group ever since, being known for staying foul and bitter towards everyone except themselves. Yet, nobody seems to know the reason for their ice-cold hearts. You never really bothered to keep up with the rumours or gossip, it wasn’t necessary for you to know, however you start to think maybe you should pay more attention due to your recent interaction with two of the people in the group.

"But they were nice?" your question, more to yourself than to Jisung.

"I don't know about you, but you probably got the wrong people." 

You don't believe Jisung is lying but at the same time… The two men you had tutored earlier today were definitely not members of the notorious group. 

Surely not. 

Yes, they were intimidating, but nowhere near as bad as anything people say about them. From what you've heard about the group, they are cold, heartless, selfish, and miserable. Staying only in the group of eight, others not even daring to look them in the eyes as they pass them.

"If they were the people that you were tutoring yesterday, you may have gotten yourself into something you can't get out of. They have hundreds of fangirls, who are very possessive over them and people who want them dead. I don’t know of a single person who is fond of them. It’s best if you stay far away from them." Jisung says with a nervous expression. 

Unexpectedly, his phone lights up and you see Minho's caller ID appear. Jisung glances back up at you with a questioning look, requesting if he can take it.

"Go ahead," you push your smile and watch as he leaves to find a quiet place.

Your heart beats heavily against your chest and you feel your throat tighten. ‘Come on’ you think, this isn't the best place for you to have an anxiety attack. Possibly, it's that the new information is far too overwhelming. You are barely keeping up with your classes, your apartment just burnt down, and now you’re somewhat engaged with an apparently dangerous group that has no good stories. Feeling your breathing getting jagged and your heart getting heavier by the second, you attempt to focus on your breathing. Trying to remember the breathing exercises your mother taught you when you were younger, you attempt breathing in deeply, but it doesn't work, leaving you to breathe in and out in a fast manner. It's okay, it's okay. You repeat yourself, in an attempt to comfort yourself, but your brain is yelling 'it's not okay, look how stupid you've been and got yourself into a senseless situation again. Fucking idiot'. You put your head in your hands and start gently rocking on the barstool, tears threatening to fall out of your eyes. Unexpectedly, a presence appears next to you and before you know it, their warm hand is rubbing up and down your back in a soothing manner. 

"Shh it's okay, it's all going to be okay." a deep voice speaks from your right. You don't care to look up, only basking in the way the figure's hand caresses your back in a comforting way. To your surprise, it works miracles. Your breathing is back to a reasonable state within the next minute. Only then do you look up from your hands, your eyes lock with a beautiful man. He wears a comforting smile, his eyes full of sympathy and something else you can't quite put your finger on, his hand not slowing on your back. Trying to smile back at him, you wipe the tears you didn't even know had fallen, with the sleeves of your sweatshirt before regaining the words to speak.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," you say, abruptly embarrassed that a very handsome man just had to see a small breakdown of yours. 

"It's perfectly okay. I've had enough anxiety attacks to know you can't control where you have them." the man admits, scratching the back of his neck with an awkward smile on his face. The voice of the man is deep, yet soft, making you feel awfully relaxed.

"You have anxiety?" you ask, sniffling your nose.

The man chuckles and looks down at his hands, "longer than I can remember, yeah," he looks back up at you, "rubbing my back is how my friends comfort me, so I hope it somewhat worked for you too." 

"It worked amazingly, it's actually how my mother used to comfort me," you express, still slightly ashamed to be sharing this information with a stranger, let alone such a good-looking one. Yet knowing he goes through the same things as you, comforts you more than you realise. The male looks around him, almost as if he’s worried someone will see him, he then looks back down to your smaller figure which is closer to him than he remembered. Clearing his throat, he steps away a little bit, concerned you would feel uncomfortable with the closeness of your bodies. 

“I do need to go now, but it was nice to meet you," The man says whilst leaving the barstool to your right. Not sure why, but you feel sad that he has to leave so soon. Feeling so relaxed around a stranger has you shocked, wishing you could stay with this unknown feeling.

"Thank you," you say, grateful to have him there for you.

"Anytime.”

"I’ll see you around." You return his smile.

Nodding his head, he gives one last smile before departing the bar's exit, a growing smile adorning his features as he exits the bar.

“Hey I’m back.”

Whipping your head to the left, you see Jisung sitting back in his stool. Opening your mouth to tell him about what just happened, you attempt to get the words out but for some reason, you are unable to find the words. Not wanting to worry your best friend with your sudden onset anxiety attack, you decide to stay quiet.

What are these unexplainable encounters you've been having with handsome men recently?

----

Climbing over bags and coats, you find a seat in a calmer area of the stadium you just arrived at. Spotting Minho in the field doing some warm-ups with his team, you feel relaxed to see someone you know. When he sees you, he waves happily. Smiling, you reach for your phone to quickly text Jisung asking where he is. All of a sudden, a rush of cold air gets swept in by the wind, causing you to freeze up. Never liking the cold, you debate heavily at this moment whether you should just leave. However, you travelled all the way from Yeji’s to here in the cold. It seems like a waste to just go back, even if it freezes you to death to stay. After all, you need to support Minho, him being one of your only friends, for the football game. Jisung is supposed to be joining you but you’re sure he's busy picking out a cute outfit to swoon Minho. 

Over the past few days Jisung has been trying to teach you the names of Ateez so you know to run if they approach you. Seemingly stupid, but you do need fewer distractions in the hope to graduate with honours. From what Jisung has told you, there are eight members, and they are all of similar age, the youngest being in the same classes as he managed to skip a year due to him exceeding the level of people his age. However, Jisung teaching you their names doesn’t really stick to you, never being good at names it doesn’t help that you don’t know what they look like. It would be much easier learning their names if you actually had photos so you can put a name to a face, but of course they don’t have Instagram accounts, and if they saw people taking photos of them, they’d likely murder you on the spot. Or that’s what Jisung says.

You are suddenly brought out of your thoughts when a voice sounds in your ears.

“Could I sit here?” a soft, yet deep captivating voice speaks out. 

Curiously, you look to your left to see who the owner of the voice is. Surprisingly, you see a blonde male with a mask covering his face. He is standing next to the seat where you have placed your bag, and you realise he is asking for the seat.

“Oh yes, of course, sorry,” you hurriedly grab your bag and place it between your legs, allowing the male to take a place next to you.

“Thank you,” he says, a very small smile on his lips. When he sits down, he takes off his mask, and you glance at him one more time, taking in his visuals. With his fluffy hair and red tinted cheeks and a small mark of pink next to one of his eyes, he is truly a work of art. Yet, for some reason, you can't help but feel like you've seen him before.

“I'm sorry have I met you before, you seem really familiar?” you ask inquisitively, not being able to match a name to a face.

“We may have run into each other once or twice,” the blonde male puts his hand out for a handshake.

Gladly taking his hand in yours, you shake with a small smile on your face.

“It is a small world, I'm __.” 

The male takes his hand away and back into his coat pocket, shivering in the icy air.

“Are you Jisung's girlfriend?” he questions.

Rolling your eyes, slightly annoyed at the question, you go to answer. It has been thousands of times that people have asked about your and Jisung's relationship, mistaking you for a couple and not just a couple of friends. After a while it gets rather irritating, the question being asked countless amounts of times.

"No, we aren't, we are just best friends, I'm pretty sure Jisung came out as gay like two years ago. Plus, he's literally dating the quarterback, Lee Minho." you chuckle slightly.

"Oh sorry! I didn't mean to offend you in any way." 

"No! It's really okay, it's just I get asked a lot, so it becomes annoying after a while. I mean look at Jisung, he has baby girl written all over him." 

“Cold?” he questions.

The blondie next to you lets out a small chuckle acknowledging the man you are always with isn’t your boyfriend.

Sensing a gaze on you, you turn back to the blonde male whose eyes are looking at the goosebumps on your exposed arms.

“I probably should’ve brought at least a jumper. I've been so wrapped up with exams and tutoring I’ve been forgetting everything,” you say, laughing slightly, embarrassed that you went outside wearing just a t-shirt in the middle of November.

The male lets out a laugh before speaking, “it’s okay, I understand. If I’m being honest, I've also been having so much struggle with studying, my stress is all over the place.” He wonders for a second why he even shared this with you, concerned for a second you will see him in a bad light.

“I'm sorry to hear that.” you contemplate for a moment, “Look I have these if you want,” reaching into your pocket, you grab some rescue drops. “These help me a lot,”

You place the small bottle in his hand, and a giant smile covers his face. “What? I’ve actually been looking for these everywhere and I can never find them! They’ve been sold out in every shop.” Blondie looks back up at you, “but you have anxiety you need these more than me,” 

Pausing for a second, you wonder how he knows you have anxiety, nonetheless, you continue “It’s perfectly fine, Jisung’s parents work at a pharmacy back in my hometown and they send me a few of these whenever they are in stock, you can keep them.” you inform him, his smile brightening your cold mood shockingly fast. You’re not even sure why you gave him them, it was your last bottle. You guess that’s what happens when you are a people pleaser. The smile on the male’s face only grows wider, his heart jumping at your kind action.

“Thank you so much __,”

“It’s no worries, if you ever need some more, look for the loud group of small guys acting like four-year-olds.” you laugh, and he chuckles along with you, making a mental note, even though he knows he will likely never approach the group.

Before you can focus back on the starting game, you feel a soft material cover your shivering body. It is a large zip-up that smells of rich, sweet perfume. Turning quickly to the blonde guy with confusion covering your features, you hurriedly dismiss the action, seeing his arms exposed to the winter air.

“I can’t take this; you’ll get too cold.” you stop your words as he pulls out another sweater from his bag. 

“I've got my friend’s sweater, you keep mine until you’re warm.” he turns to face the game, "or until Jisung sees and freaks out and tells everyone you have a secret boyfriend." he jokes.

“You seem to know Jisung?” you ask, wondering how he knows Jisung’s personality quite well.

“Well, we know each other, but we aren’t particularly friends,” blondie turns fully towards you, “are you sure you don’t know me at all?”

“I'm sorry but I really only have like two friends, I don't really go out.” 

“But Jisung is super popular, aren't you in his huge partying friend group?”

“Not really, his friends are lovely but I’m only close with him and his boyfriend, I'm not too good at making friends.” you quietly mumble the last part. You look over at the blondie and see he has slight confusion on his face.

“You are so kind, I’m sure anyone would want to be your friend." 

"You’d be the first to think that" you dryly admit, which causes the male to feel a twinge of pain and guilt in his heart, "I would rather stay inside all-day binge-watching television whilst eating away my stress,"

"Well, that’s one thing we have in common." 

Sharing a warm smile with him, you start to get lost in your thoughts again, but then you realise a question you never returned.

“I’m so sorry I never got your name.”

“No worries, I’m Yeosang.” he has the same smile on his face, making you feel warm despite the bitter winter air. Then his familiarity dawns on you.

“Kang?” you inquire, your voice rising ever so slightly.

“That’s me,” he smiles at me, and you don't know if your heart rises because of how beautiful his smile is or because you recognise the name from Jisung’s teaching session with the members of Ateez.

“Like from Ateez,” you question, watching your words, if Ateez is as bad as Jisung is saying then you definitely need to watch your words.

Yeosang turns to you, almost looking baffled.

“I thought you didn't know about Ateez?” he questions, shocked.

“What made you think that?”

“Just a guess I suppose, being that you don't really go out I assumed you weren’t really interested in the groups and stuff.” 

“Ah well not particularly, but recently I suppose I’ve gotten to know about it better.”

“You're not scared, are you?” you see Yeosang tense up a little, his eyebrows furrowed. He hopes for the best, not knowing how you will react. Surprisingly, your heart softens at this question, he seems upset for some reason, as if he doesn't want to be seen this way. You feel bad for ever acting stressed towards him.

“Don't worry, the only person that scares me is Jisung when he's hungry.” you joke out, relaxing the tension and calming him. From what you can see, Yeosang is just kind and calm. The only thing that's menacing about him is the fact he’s drop-dead gorgeous.

Yeosang lets out a small chuckle, “well I guess now I know I need to avoid Jisung if he’s hungry,”

You agree with the blonde man, whilst lightly laughing.

“Wait, but why are you watching? Aren’t you supposed to be on the pitch?” You ask him, confused, remembering Jisung informing you that Yeosang is a part of one of the school's football teams, along with someone else whose name you can’t remember at the moment. For a moment Yeosang’s chest fills with pride, knowing you know something about him.

“Someone is taking my spot today, I was told to analyse the opposing team to find out their habits and stuff, hence the notepad.”

Looking down, you notice the small notepad with doodles all over the cover, making your heart swell. Yeosang continues to talk,

“Don’t tell my tactics to Minho,” he jokes with a grin on his face, knowing Minho is on the other team.

“I would never betray you like that,” you place your hand over your chest acting offended. 

Both cracking up, you speak up again, “don't worry, your secrets are safe with me.”

“Sang!” You hear a voice call from the left, and your eyes lay on another attractive man, “Coach told us to sit with him,” this male also has a notepad in his grip. 

You know this guy. He works in a small café not too far from campus, it is down a narrow alleyway, covered by vines and moss. It was a very hidden spot and only locals really knew the place. Only knowing it because you walked past it every day for a year as the alleyway was a shortcut to your housing from the campus. Barely anyone goes there, the regulars being either old women or businesspeople quickly rushing in to get a coffee before work starts. Back at the beginning of the semester, you used to go to the café a lot because of the raspberry muffins, yet they stopped selling them thus forth you stopped going as much. It was also due to the fact you had barely any time to sleep, so you cut it out of your morning schedule to be able to sleep in a little. You think the guy’s name was Wooyoung if you can remember his name tag correctly. You notice he sees you sitting next to Yeosang, with his friend’s hoodie over your shoulders and a smile consumes his entire face. 

“Muffin?” he looks confused, yet somewhat glad to see you once again. The nickname extremely takes you aback. “Why did you stop coming to the café?”

As far as you can recall, back when you visited the café, this server was rather distant and limited to saying little to no words whilst waiting. Seeing him like this confuses you severely. Alas, you let out a giggle and both of the boys' grins widen visibly.

“You two better get going, I'm not sure your coach wants to wait any longer.” 

Yeosang stands up and straightens out his pants before turning to you,

“Hopefully I’ll see you around.” he smiles warmly. Smiling back at him, you nod. Yeosang starts to leave with Wooyoung before he turns around.

“I better see you at the café tomorrow! Plus, that sweater looks good on you, Muffin.” he winks and Yeosang slaps the back of his head.  You can’t help but giggle yet feel flustered. 

Yeosang and Wooyoung walk towards the coach’s section, Yeosang slightly more affected than the male next to him. Hopefully he will get his hoodie back, and hopefully it will smell like you. After this interaction, your mind was even more confused. If you remember correctly, Yeosang and Wooyoung have a very big reputation for being some of the rudest and coldest towards people. Yet they were so friendly when you were with them. Is everything all these people are saying about them true or maybe the group of eight is just deeply misunderstood?

Whatever it is, you need to talk to Jisung about this, but you will wait until the game is over.

----

The night of the interaction between Yeosang and Wooyoung, Jisung, Minho and you reside at their apartment, eating chicken and watching a shitty romcom for background noise. The rest of his roommates are out celebrating the start of the football season. You have no idea why it started mid-way through November but okay.

“I said I would come; they were too sweet to say no to!” You exclaim, throwing your head back against the couch, regretting saying yes. 

“It was definitely Yeosang and Wooyoung?” Minho questions, not believing any part of my story.

“Yes! Yeosang has the birthmark next to his eye like Ji described and Wooyoung was the guy who works at that one café I used to go to all the time,”

“Well, I never knew Wooyoung worked at a café, that doesn't really match the hardcore scary image they are going for, are you sure you’re not going delusional?” Jisung admits, chuckling.

“What are you going to do?” Minho questions, passing you a drumstick. 

You take a big bite, before speaking, “I should just go, if I don't show up, they might murder me as you two say. Which is very unbelievable seeing how fucking cheerful they’ve all been.”

“Well, you’ve only met four, the rest are probably a nightmare,” Jisung says, his mouth full of chicken, Minho humming in agreement next to him.

“You two are supposed to be comforting me.” you groan, throwing your head into your hands. 

“Okay, don't worry __, if they have been as nice as you’ve been saying then just show up and if they aren't nice then call Chan and Changbin and I’m sure they will gladly sort them out for you.” Minho laughs.

 ----

Keeping your promise, you showed up at the café the next day. 

Opening the painted door, the bell rings notifying your entrance. Immediately you spot Wooyoung relaxing against the counter, scrolling through his phone, visibly bored. There are only a few people in the café, mostly reading books or typing on laptops. You see a flash of pink hair in the corner, yet you lose focus as quickly as you had it as you continue to walk further in.

“Welcome to Veranda Café,” Wooyoung says unbothered, still staring at his phone as you walk closer to where all the cakes were on display. Much to your dismay, you fail to see a raspberry muffin on display.

“I see you still don’t have any raspberry muffins.” You speak out in front of where Wooyoung is standing, making his head immediately snap up.

“__! I was starting to worry you weren't going to show up.” He exclaims, a contagious smile wide on his face. Immediately putting his phone in his pocket, giving his attention to you. He leans on the counter. Extremely happy you showed up.

“I never break my promises,” you grin at the black-haired man.

“Oh, one moment.” He speaks out excitedly, like a puppy, and turns to where he was sitting. Opening up a small fridge, he brings out the biggest, most beautiful raspberry muffin you have ever seen.

“Yeosang and I made this morning for you.” he gestures over to the corner, and you see the blonde male from yesterday, he is sitting next to someone, yet you can’t see them from where you’re standing. Yeosang shyly waves and you smile and wave back. Heart beating faster and cheeks warming up, you take the muffin happily. Wooyoung smiles brightly at you, feeling prideful at the way your eyes light up from the muffin.

“We stopped making these muffins because the owner didn’t think anyone was buying them, it made me upset because I knew you liked them,” Wooyoung says, making direct eye contact with you, making you weak at the knees. Wondering how he even remembered you, you still feel thankful he thought of you, even if it was a long time ago.

“It’s a shame but I'm sure there are lots of other tasty things here too. Anyways, thank you so much, you guys are the best.” you say, sincerity dripping in your words. Wooyoung just shrugs like he doesn't care, but the big smile on his face and the redness dusting his ears tells a different story.

“How much do I owe you?” you ask, getting out your purse.

Swiftly, Wooyoung grabs your hand halting its actions, “it’s on us, for being so kind, Yeosang and one of our friends really needed those rescue drops.” He lowers his voice, “between us, their anxiety has been really bad recently, and the stuff works wonders. Plus, you were always my favourite customer anyways.” Wooyoung admits, smiling, his cheeks get a deeper colour of red. Your heart warms up once again, which is strange to you. You haven't felt this happiness in a very long time. Maybe things are starting to get better. Happily taking the muffin, you make your way to Yeosang who is reading a book.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” you inquire, repeating his words from yesterday, yet when your eyes meet the figure sitting next to him, they light up as you recognise him.

“I know you!” You exclaim, a little too loudly, causing people around you to glare in your direction. Feeling overwhelmed by the sudden attention, you quickly sit down in a shielded area, away from all the glares. 

“You two know each other?” Yeosang asks, intrigued by your sudden remark.

“It is you, right?” you ask just in case you’re mistaking him for another pink-haired male.

The tall male smiles widely, “Yeah, it’s me. I’m Mingi,” he turns to Yeosang, who is visibly confused, “we met briefly in a bar the other day,” 

Yeosang lets out an ‘ah’ in realisation, yet you fail to see the jealous look he points at the pink haired man as he turns back to his book. Reaching for a dessert fork placed in the middle of the table, Mingi quickly grabs it and hands it to you. Quietly thanking him, you start to cut your muffin into four pieces. You acknowledge a gaze on you, so you halt your movements and look up, noticing Yeosang and Mingi’s eyes on you. Suddenly feeling awfully small, you start to feel your heartbeat rise and your breath deepen, never really liking people watching you eat, the stares from the two make you anxious. Luckily, they seem to immediately notice your change in behaviour and start apologising.

“I’m sorry, we will look away. We were just wondering whether you were going to like the muffin,” Mingi explains, his voice stumbling over words.

“It’s okay! I’m sorry, I’ve always been kind of awkward when people watch me eat.” you confess, your cheeks heating up. The two males nod trying to remember this information for the future. Instantly, the two men completely look away and focus on their own things, not paying any attention to you. Their antics make you giggle slightly, and you look back down at your muffin. Slowly, you pick up a quarter and place it on Mingi’s empty plate in front of him. You then do the same for Yeosang. They both look up at you with wide eyes.

“This is your favourite, we can't take it,” Yeosang says hurriedly, trying to put the cake back on your plate. 

“Stop, stop! I want to. I want to share it with my friends!” You blurt out before you can control your mouth. The wide eyes on both Yeosang and Mingi, make you realise what you said. You have to remember that even though they seem normal they are very clearly part of a group who apparently can kill people with their stare. What the hell are you doing? Of course, they aren’t your friends, you met them both once for less than ten minutes.

“Wait, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to say that I didn't intend to push your boundaries, we have only met like twice I didn't just assume we are friends!” You start to ramble, scared they will take it the wrong way, trying to fix your words as quickly as possible so you don’t get on their bad sides.

Before you can say anything more, Yeosang cuts you off by taking a bite of the muffin, “it tastes amazing! Thank you,”

“Woo!” Mingi’s voice calls out, ignoring the angry glares of people around him, “come get some cake!” Watching Wooyoung jump over the counter towards the three of you, you smile to yourself, glad you haven't done something that would cause future problems. Yeosang feeds Wooyoung the cake and makes an over-exaggerated reaction, “the flavours are melting on my tongue!” he exclaims in a funny voice, making Yeosang and Mingi cringe but you just laugh at his amusing antics. You can’t help but imagine how the whole group is when they are together. 

For the remainder of the hour, you are just conversing with Wooyoung and Mingi, sometimes Yeosang if he wants to add to the conversation, but more focusing on his book, yet looking up intently whenever you speak. You are broken out of your conversation as you hear the bell of the entrance ring, notifying the entrance of new customers. Wooyoung groans and stands up from his chair next to you. It seems to be three girls from our school. You recognise one of them from your calculus class.

Then the next thing that happens confuses you more than any other thing that has happened. As Wooyoung reaches the counter to take their order, his demeanour changes almost immediately, you would've missed it if you had blinked. 

Mingi and Yeosang seem to notice your confusion but blatantly ignore it, their smiles quickly disappearing from their faces. The atmosphere turns from warm and friendly to cold and foreign.

“What do you want?” Wooyoung asks bluntly. You furrow your eyebrows, confused out of your mind as to where the sweet friendly Wooyoung disappeared to.

“You know you should be nicer to your customers, it would help with business,” one of the girls speaks out, looking smug as if she has immensely hurt the man’s feelings.

“You should probably focus on your studies rather than going to cafes, sitting with a random document open and pretending to study when we all know you are miserably failing all your classes.” Wooyoung says monotone, whilst scrolling through his phone, not even looking at the three girls who now have shocked and offended looks on their faces. Some curses are thrown before the girls end up storming out of the café without even beginning to look at the menu. As soon as the girls leave, Wooyoung returns to the table nonchalantly, acting as if nothing had happened. Opening your mouth to say something, it gets caught in your throat before you get the words out.

Are you going insane?

{feedback is always appreciated and i love hearing from all of you. remember you are loved.} 

part two is out now!!!

[fandom]

Congratulations to the Writers Guild of America.

The Writers Guild of America reached an agreement and ended their strike on September 27, though the SAG-AFTRA strike is still ongoing. Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake wrapped up and folks will be processing that finale for a long time. 300 years have passed since we've seen The Belmont family and they're still our favorite vampire hunters on screen. Genshin Impact players are working their way through the Fortress of Meropide and rejoicing for those anniversary primogems. Project Voltage, the Pokémon x Hatsune Miku crossover, has fans feeling positively electric. This is Tumblr's Week in Review.

Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake

Baldur's Gate 3

The Writers Guild of America strike

Good Omens

Simon Petrikov | Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake

Artists on Tumblr

Genshin Impact

Castlevania: Nocturne

Astarion | Baldur's Gate 3

Crowley | Good Omens

Halloween

Aziraphale | Good Omens

Ineffable Husbands | Aziraphale & Crowley, Good Omens

Pokémon

Betty Grof | Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake

One Piece

Ahsoka

Project Voltage

The QSMP Minecraft Server

Petrigrof | Simon Petrikov & Betty Grof, Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

I'm an A-Level student and so many of my classmates use ChatGPT for essays in Law and RS and stuff - like, they sound proud of themselves, as if they're cheating the system and being clever? Just makes me feel very bleak. What are we doing man

Well, the unfortunate news for them is that they are going to struggle if they make it to uni.

This is the big problem with AI - it cannot analyse a single thing. If I were to say to you "What are the features Tumblr users would most want and why?", you are a human being with a brain and experiences and decision-making skills, and you could probably sit and come up with an answer. You would base that answer on things you personally find lacking, or want to see; you would also base it in things you have seen others bemoaning on the site.

For example, I reckon I'd say something like:

The permanent ability to boop people with a cat paw, which is implemented as opt-in. Also customisable, so you can choose whether you want a random cat paw to appear on your screen each time it happens to you. Also a different animation for super boop/evil boop, and maybe more boop options than those two, and maybe also different paw colours.

Actual enforcement of hate speech rules. We all agree to them when we join, so it's perfectly legal to delete someone for spouting Nazi shit AND YET.

No more banning or censoring queer folks' accounts

More ability to adjust the interface for disabled bloggers, e.g. colour and contrast, font, layout, switching off moving GIFs or other animations by default, etc.

Tag editing, it's frustrating having to delete whole tags.

Tag memory! Where have my tags gone??? For a year now I have slightly better luck on desktop, but for the most part, which of my tags are remembered by autofill and which are never, ever offered to me has been wholly divorced from how often I've used them. And my tags are often lengthy and odd, so it's become much harder to use mobile.

No data scraping. This is the anti-cap site thank you. Also on that note, get rid of the For You section and any other algorithmic tracking, because it's just as likely to show you a Nazi blog as an anti-Nazi one as long as you have spent any time at all discussing Nazism.

Better blocking ability, on that note.

Better search function

I could go on, but you get the idea. That's analysis that I've done, based on discussions I have seen and taken part in, and my own experiences.

I just asked ChatGPT. Here's what it had to say:

"Tumblr users have diverse preferences, but there are several features that many users would likely appreciate: 1. Improved Content Discovery: Tumblr is known for its vast array of content, so improving content discovery mechanisms such as personalized recommendations, trending topics, and enhanced search functionality can help users find more of the content they enjoy. 2. Enhanced Customization Options: Tumblr users value the ability to customize their blogs extensively. Providing more themes, layout options, and customization tools can empower users to express themselves creatively and make their blogs unique. 3. Integration of Multimedia Formats: Tumblr is a platform where users share various types of multimedia content, including images, GIFs, videos, and audio. Enhancing support for different media formats, improving media upload and management features, and optimizing the viewing experience can enhance user engagement. 4. Improved Mobile Experience: Many Tumblr users access the platform via mobile devices. Therefore, optimizing the mobile app for better performance, usability, and feature parity with the desktop version can greatly enhance the user experience. 5. Community Engagement Features: Tumblr has a vibrant community, so features that facilitate interaction among users, such as improved messaging, reblogging, tagging, and commenting functionalities, can foster a sense of community and increase user engagement. 6. Content Moderation Tools: Given the diverse content on Tumblr, providing users with robust content moderation tools, including options for filtering, blocking, and reporting inappropriate content, can help ensure a safer and more enjoyable experience for all users. 7. Monetization Options for Creators: Many Tumblr users are content creators who would appreciate opportunities to monetize their content. Introducing features such as ad revenue sharing, subscription-based content, or integrated e-commerce capabilities can incentivize creators to produce high-quality content and invest more in their Tumblr presence. 8. Accessibility Features: Improving accessibility features such as alt text support for images, screen reader compatibility, and customizable text sizes and color schemes can make Tumblr more inclusive and accessible to users with disabilities. 9. Privacy and Security Enhancements: Enhancing privacy controls, data protection measures, and account security features can help users feel more confident and secure when using the platform, which is especially important given concerns about online privacy and security. 10. API and Third-Party Integration: Opening up Tumblr's API and allowing for easier integration with third-party services and apps can encourage innovation and development within the Tumblr ecosystem, providing users with more options and flexibility in how they use the platform. Overall, focusing on improving content discovery, customization options, community engagement, and user safety while also providing opportunities for creators to monetize their content can help Tumblr retain and attract users in a competitive social media landscape."

It's possible that feels alright, on first glance. But take a closer look.

Every point made is vague, and disconnected from any real life examples. In the very first point, it thinks we want better search functions (yes!) but also more algorithmic recommendations (no!). It wants us to have personalised recommendations AND better security, in fact, which are incompatible - but an LLM doesn't and can't know that. Monetisation of the platform is something that has historically faced appalling backlash from users, and this thing is suggesting ad revenue sharing and subscription services.

Because, its suggestions are generic suggestions. These are not Tumblr-specific. No mention of queerphobia, no mention of Nazis, and absolutely zero understanding of what the specific users on this site actually want.

... all of which is to say...

It's what is academically known as descriptive work. It lays out some facts, but there's no depth, no analysis, no interpretation of those facts at all. Why would we want third party integration? What apps are we calling for? Give examples. Would that aid ad-blocking? Search functions? In that case, wouldn't third-party integration be tackling the symptoms and not the cause? Shouldn't we work better ad-blocking and search functions into Tumblr at a base level?

And in school - even up to A Level - that's okay. You won't get top marks for that, because it's all too vague and too descriptive, but it's fine. School-level assignments tend to be more broad and less applied, too, which LLMs fare better with.

But in university, you start with descriptive facts, and then you are expected to analyse. If you cannot analyse, you run a very real risk of failing. Which means if you've spent your GCSEs and A Levels not bothering to learn those analytical skills and letting ChatGPT do the work for you, you are going to face an extremely uphill struggle when the expectations of study increase.

So, to round off, try not to get too discouraged. You know you aren't doing it, which means you are the one actually learning and developing and growing. Others will learn eventually, and probably more painfully. You do you!

[absolutebl]

Pit Babe - it's time for a Trash Watch!

I had to. Well, no I didn't, but COME ON. It's like Thailand is negging me. Let's burn rubber, shall we? Burn rubbers...?

The things I had been told going in about this show:

it's about car racing (this bores me)

it stars Pavel (my BL ult bias, he is my icon for a reason)

it started as an omegaverse y-novel but the A/B/O aspects would be stripped from the BL series

it's high heat

(There some chatter about whether point 3 was a mistranslation of something the author said, but don't bother me with trifles.)

Here's a definition of omegaverse:

Omegaverse, also known as A/B/O (alpha/beta/omega), is a subgenre of speculative erotic fiction, and originally a subgenre of erotic slash fan fiction. Its premise is that a dominance hierarchy exists in humans, which are divided into dominant "alphas", neutral "betas", and submissive "omegas".[1] This hierarchy determines how people interact with one another in romantic, erotic and sexual contexts.[2] (Wikipedia)

In my experience and opinion, omegaverse archetypes and tropes are often used to strip out female characters (and The Feminine) and as a tool to excuse extreme hyper-masculine behaviors without a critical feminist lens (leading to lazy characterization). Just as heat is an excuse to get nkd quickly, A/O/B is often an excuse for taboo and dubious consent actions and behaviors. Do I get why writers/readers enjoy it? Yes I do. Do I personally like it? Not particularly. (Although there are always exceptions.)

Putting all that aside, the above represents my foundational knowledge before Pit Babe started.

Oh and that the familiar BL faces appearing in this show were follows:

Pavel Naret (aka Pavel Phoom) from 2 Moons 2 & Coffee Melody - Pavel is a fluent English speaker, a bit of a drama monger, and a motorcycle rider/car-dude, this role suits him

Nut Supanut from Oxygen & Something in My Room - has an amazing voice, his somewhat wooden acting has improved steadily since Oxygen

Pon Thanapon - one of Star Hunter's stable first seen in the Gen Y series (where he stole the appeal of an intended pair), also v good in Make a Wish, I wish he'd get a lead role as he has a likable screen presence

Pop Pataraphol from La Cuisine - he's playing the Alpha rival and I'm not convinced he's suited to this role

Michael Kiettisak from Love Sick, Oxygen, Call it What You Want, Till the World Ends - playing the comic relief this time rather than his usual tortured stoic... huh

All the rest are either fresh faces or older experienced actors. Interesting mix. They must have some money behind this.

And now, get out your marshmallows! The dumpster is on fire! Let's start the roast.

Episode 1 - Platypus, Pickles, Pavel, & other Smoking Hot Problems

This first segment told with a 4 day retrospect, because I decided to do a trash watch only after @aliceisathome said I should.

My initial reaction:

the sheer audacity of Thailand being like "PitBabe is not omegaverse" and then serving "Alpha" to us on a platter in the first sex scene is

how dare

but also

what the actual fuck is going on? what world are we living in where a/b/o is LIVE ACTION ON OUR SCREENS?

we getting heat, knotting & mpreg next?

apparently this is my reality now

I'm not sure what weird quantum time stream I've jumped into but someone was all,

yes the whole world is hella screwed, but also...

Thailand has decided live action mm fanfic is gonna win it the culture wars

and I'm beginning to think they may be right

BL is now the platypus of the film industry

4 days later:

Considering how much chatter this caused there's a part of me that wondered if it was all intentional and a marketing ploy (to say it wasn't omegaverse when obviously it is). In which case... brilliant Machiavellian tactics, production.

But Thai studios are rarely this calculated in their promo. So I think it's all accidental. But it certainly caused a raucous few days on Tumblr.

On a completely different note, Babe's house looks like it started life as a particularly inventive Olive Garden. Or is that just me?

More random thoughts:

Pavel has had work done, why honey? You were the definition of perfect.

The smell thing is great, I love stuff to do with scent and necks. If omegaverse brings this to the table, fine. But...

Being all Alpha perfect butch manly man = I do not like Babe at all, I kinda want him to be brought down a peg. (Woo... pegging!) I never like narratives that glorify the captain of the football team (side eyes Cdrama CEO romances and Love O2O), Babe better have depth and damage (forget the pegging) of some kind or his behavior will get old FAST, faster than he drives (also, forget the pegging idea)

Nut is ideal in the Beta role. I mean, that's Way's character right? We all can see that. If it's not intentional, it's a miscast. I love how soft he is as as screen presence. He's great in this part.

None of the other characters are sticking out to me yet, but I'm prepared to love the side dishes in this, please make them swoon worthy!

I'm glad they didn't hold the Charlie = trickster reveal off, I like knowing he is a double agent up front.

Finally, with respect to an adequate trash watch, I'm in a pickle.

How am I going to drink for this show when there is so much else airing on Frigay? I can't keep track, if I'm drunk.

I need a strategy for this trash fire if the puns and snark are to spout forth! (HA Fourth!)

Controlled burn?

Anygay, see you all next week.

Episode 2 - Side Dish Addiction + Second Lead Syndrome are both infecting me at once

[FYI I gotta have my backup computer to watch this so that's why Imma sometimes be delayed getting the trash out to the curb.]

3 minutes! 3 minutes in and I needed to pause and wax snarkful. (Ouch, bet that hurts. Is waxing snark similar to a Brazilian but for BL? Is that why they all so hairless in The Sign?... I digress, where was I?)

Okay so the subber said Daddy but I don't think that word means what they think it means. Because Way said simply nong paa.

Usually they'll use the English word Daddy (pronounced Dah-deee) for, ya know, Actual Daddies (tm).

Wait wait:

Calling Daddy Actual

(My dumb sci-fi loving arse will see myself out the back before I start drawing Battlestar Galactica = Pit Babe connections. TOO FAR ABL. Too far.)

Look, I like the tension in this show. It's good to set up an unlikeable Alpha dog and then immediately turn him into an underdog, makes him a bit more likable. I still don't like Babe, but now at least I'm on his side.

Charlie = cute but v sus. Fortunately for him, Babe = cute but v thick.

Everyone calls Charlie Babe's dek. Yes sounds a bit like what you think but also means kid/child and SHOULD be translated as boy in this show. Why doesn't the subber get that? They a sub...ber after all. (I'll see myself out.)

Honestly, the script writers might know what they are doing with abo but our eng sub translator sadly does NOT. I'm so glad this is coming now in my BL watching life. When my ear and knowledge of Thai is so much better than it once was. Others much be SO CONFUSED.

Snicker. They just fucking with us, but it's fun to watch the mpeg speculation abound.

File this one under: Thailand's trouble with ESL plurals and also "you should have Pavel helping with these subs" sweethearts.

Production knows entirely what it's doing with this show and its omegaverse shizz (even if the subber doesn't) and I am very much enjoying the online carnage that results.

This dumpster fire continues off screen into the blogosphere and I continue to roast things over it.

Meanwhile, hi Pon! You so adorable! When you gonna lead out a BL for us?

Is Idol Factory stealing all of Star Hunter's talent? Are they the Red Racers of the BL world? These are the questions I ask myself as I watch this.

Is that AGE GAP I smell before me?

Is the 20 yr old college kid meant for the pit boss? Cause you all know I am a slut for age gaps.

Moment of a/b/o: Jeff's fear of touch/heightened personal space would be a plot marker for "baby doesn't want Alphas close cause he smells like an omega" but of course this show it not omegaverse. Not omegaverse at all.

nuh-uh

Linguistic corner!

Lung (sounds a bit like loo) is uncle(ish) it means basically a male relation older than phi. So Alan is the oldest in the crew.

Alan calls Jeff nu (which the subber translated as boy I would have gone with cutie or little one). Nu is a diminutive affectionate term that's technically gender neutral but is most often used by/on cute girls/women. Jeff did NOT like it. Then Alan sort of dodges through pronouns/particles settling on phi for I, ger for you, and ja for a particle. This is interesting because ger & ja kinda lower his age and status into a casual sphere. Not more intimate more equal to jeff... fascinating.

I love the new "Korean" red racer, he drinks my brand of soy milk. He is now my baby snake in the grass.

Get it? Snake.

He and Babe should end up together.

The fight wasn't bad, do both actors have kickbox training in their backgrounds?

Who am I kidding, I care only about Uncle Alan and Nu Jeff now. All others are irrelevant to me.

Also...

WHERE IS A BOY FOR WAY?!!! Or a Daddy. I do not care. (Methinks nether does he.)

I am now captain of the Way Appreciation Society. Let's all find a way... to get him some dick.

Also the BTS stingers are tons of fun. Looks like the set was a blast.

Finally, and I mean this kindly. Why isn't Noh Phouluang in this? He should have been cast as Winner. Bah. I'm biased.

But one should be with Noh.

Episode 3 - Side Dishes Delux

Gayest bridge n Thailand has made its obligatory appearance.

How much do I love uncle & nu? They are SO damn cute. Also nu flustered is the best kind of nu.

I could not care less about Babe and Charlie. Except I do love the smell thing.

Way will break my heart by getting his broken. He is right tho.

Tra la la. I feel like this is a bit like KP 2.0.

Charlie is a such a princess (and ace manipulator). Good thing Babe clearly likes being buttered up.

Babe's backstory was more interesting than I expected, I didn't think we would go so far into the paranormal side of a/b/o. I like it and I hope they lean into it quite a bit more. Make it part of the plot.

Unlike the kissing thing which seems to have been gotten over rather quickly.

I gotta say I'm enjoying the corporate sponsorship jockeying and tension more than I thought I would. I'm curious as to who Jef and Charlie are working for and what their motivation is. The plot itself is keeping me intrigued and that is rare for me with BL.

So no trash talk this ep, I was largely absorbed and entertained. I didn't event need booze. Shocking behavior on my part.

#giveWayaboy2023

Episode 4 - I (who never ship) am shipping the impossible

Here’s the thing. I just want this to be a better story than it is. Right now it’s kind of like a soap opera. I don’t hate lakorn, I really don't. To Sir With Love is a glorious chewing of the diamanté scenery (completed with death glitter). But...

If this is gonna be a soap opera it needs to lean into the messy side more than the tailored high concept side. Support characters and evil needs more screen time.

Instead, right now, I don’t know where I am with this show because it doesn't know where it wants to be. I’m kind of dangling in the middle of a dirty situation. It’s uncomfortable for me, and the show feels uncomfortable for the performers. 

Also... I have questions.

Yes, of course I want to know what Charlie & Jeff are up to. Why can Jeff see the future?

But more importantly I NEED to know why Babe has a flying saucer bed?

That kind of lighting makes nobody look good, especially not at that angle. It’s very traumatic and I’m not wild about the shag rug either. I have concerns about Babe's taste. I guess is what I am saying. 

On a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT note:

There’s absolutely no chemistry to justify this, but I have decided that I am going to personally advocate for, and ship, Way and the interloping not-really-Korean. They are both sort of own-moral-code types. I have tiny crush on Kim, and Nut is the prettiest, and Way is Best Boy so there it is, I would like them to hook up, please & thank you.

#giveWay2Kim2023

Arrow guy is cute, too. Will we get to see him bone?

Is he going to be another one of the adopted alpha super-kid pets?

What the hell, throw Arrow Boy a bone! All hot boys in BLs deserve bones.

Plot thickens.

Hah.

Thickens.

(I am an immature idiot.)

Episode 5 - wait wait way-t, can arrow boy have Way?

Look, BLabies, I didn’t get any screen caps this episode because frankly there wasn’t anything worth capturing.

I guess Charlie really does love Babe? Very dramatic if idiotic saving from the burning car. But Babe has gone to the broken Alpha place of extremely unlikeablability (frankly he was almost there at the start). If I were Charles B Spectacled I would be OUT by now. 

Is that?

NO.

Don't get the plastic bowl.

No white towel sponge bath. Please kill this trope.  

I mean, it's not as bad as singing, but that's because NOTHING is as bad as singing in a Thai BL.

AND the main boys are back together.

I don’t find their relationship or Babe’s lack of senses a particularly interesting aspect of the plot.

Unless, of course, Babe is pregnant and that's why he lost his Alpha sniffer.

BUT I do love the sides.

Jeff = the introvert precog who can’t/wont do people and Alan = the extrovert people person who WANTS but doesn’t understand him. 

Were Jeff and Charlie ALSO raised by Evil Daddy MacEvilPants? 

I liked the way Arrow CEO & Way looked at each other. Way, hon, give up on Babe (he sucks) and get thyself a billionaire bf with great aim and BDE.

On a completely different note, the best thing about this show is the blooper reel. That thing with the green smoothie going down his pants was hilarious!

In conclusion, this was a green smoothie down the pants episode. I was entertained, and it’s probably gonna be good for the plot in retrospect, but it was kind of squishy and unpleasant at the time.

Episode 6 - Are they actually listening to us now? Is Tumblr bugged?

This was a fun ep full of like actual racing and shizz.

Whatever.

Charlie is on the team now. All the teams, apparently.

Can we talk about Jeff and Alan?

The apology scene! Did you hear that Alan dropped to chan/ger? Eeeee!!! So cute. (He equalized their relationship in a soft way.)

Get it with that language play hottie. Next up: lengua play.

Please & thank you. 

Meanwhile, as all of the Internet knows, they went fully in for omegaverse - no bars.

I have to say, one of the greatest typos (or whatever) in existence is enigma instead of omega.

That's where I personally would rank in the omegaverse.

Hello, my gender is... enigma.

 Apparently it's a/b/o and sometimes e!  Also sometimes switch-ee 

Oh I'm very proud of myself with that one.

Funfunfun

Charlie. Babes. When a man asks to be thrown up against the wall. You throw him against that wall.

OMG is that arrow boy looking at Way in the bar?

3 seconds later.

Noooo.

Wait come back.

Noooooo.

That’s what I actually want to watch! 

OMG. Who said nu was the first step to teelak?

I flipping love Alan. 

Ah the boyfriend ep. Thank you, but I still don't trust Charlie.

Poor Way.

But nice crying jag, and I don’t say that often in Thai BL.

Now let him go, Way.

A boy with his arrows is waiting. 

(source)

Note for the future: tumblr has a bug that stops allowing edits after a certain time/number, thus my full trash often occur in 2 segments as a result. Click on the "abl trash watches bl" tag for the full thing if you're reading this and later episodes are missing.

[loverofstufflof]

Black Myth: Wukong rant because I’m just… so tired of you people.

I hate the community this game has cultivated. I hate looking through the tags and seeing people tearing each other apart over a game based on a story I love.

There’s two stances:

Those who say that merely interacting with the game is in support of all the terrible things the developers have (allegedly) done. Who parade accusations that many have stated were mistranslated and that the situation is far more complicated than it appears.

Those who mock the former by making a straw man of their concerns while simultaneously displaying their misogyny, racism, homophobia, and general traits that make it clear they’ve never touched a woman in their life.

One is slightly more tolerable than the other. Neither make me feel welcome in enjoying this project I’ve been looking forward to for years.

I will be talking more about purple, because I don’t speak Chinese, and feel that I have no authority speaking too much on orange.

Purple people are beyond insufferable.

I think that most of this came from a Screen Rant review that listed one of the game’s flaws as “a lack of diversity.” This is an accurate analysis, and has been warped beyond belief.

I can understand the outrage… a bit. When playing a game surrounding Chinese culture, in which you play as an inhuman character fighting equally inhuman enemies, it doesn’t make too much sense to request racial representation. And when there isn’t any romance, representation for sexual orientations also wouldn’t work. Including anything in those merit would feel forced and out of place, I agree.

But you wanna know what the reviewer wrote?

She was concerned about the lack of women.

She felt unwelcome when playing a game made by rumoured misogynists because there were no women at all.

And she explicitly said that the game was still enjoyable despite this.

She gave it such a “low score” (3/5) because of the performance issues and repetitiveness. By her own rating, the game was listed as “Worth a shot despite its flaws.”

Everything got so bad they had to take down her name for her safety.

People in the purple category took this review to mean that the “woke left” was “pushing an agenda” and “trying to cancel this game for not having pansexual nonbinary black people.” Which, as I’m sure you can now understand, was not the case. The boycott surrounding this game is purely based on accusations targeted towards the developers, not the game’s content.

Of course, I don’t expect many of the aforementioned people in this category to care too much. I’ve seen the Steam reviews where they praise the lack of women. I’ve read the Reddit threads where they feel grateful that there’s “finally a company who understands the male authority.” I’ve scrolled through post after post on Tumblr that “no one would want to play a game where females jiggle their tits around while doing nothing.”

That last one gets me. It’s really telling what you can learn about a person when they say things like that.

The point is, these people make me feel very unwelcome in a community that previously made me most comfortable.

So let’s recap:

The people who I would find community with are portraying the mere interest in this game as a sin that’s worthy of being blocked and shamed over, and the people who are actually in this community remind me why I’m terrified to walk alone.

I have a lot more that I want to say on this, but I don’t really have the words quite yet, and still need to do a fair amount of research (which I probably won’t be doing because holy shit I’m so done with this). Maybe I’ll come back and add some more, but for now I just might block the tag entirely.

I just feel shitty ‘s’all ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

[sungbeam]

nonidol!kim younghoon x f!reader

neither you nor younghoon were party people, but you did find love in the convenience store down the block.

▷ genre, warnings. friends 2 lovers, mutual pining, college au, swearing, fluff, humor, comfort, reader has crowd anxiety, reader has a lot of siblings lol, mentions of math/physics/chemistry/etc sorry it was necessary for the character, kissing, puns and pick-up lines, mentions of academic stress, lots of carbs haha, drinking, guys younghoon was my first bias and im remembering why

▷ total wc. 29.3k (TUMBLR MADE ME CUT OUT SO MUCH I FKN HATE THIS HELLSITE)

this is the seventh installment of the love in unity series! this should be fine as a standalone, but there are multiple references to party people & i highly encourage u to read it!; all other yns will be referred to as _!yn. (ayc occurs DURING party people)

a/n: in an alternate world, i would still be obsessed w kim younghoon, isn't that crazy. anyways, enjoy + reblog!

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): OF ALL THE COSMIC COINCIDENCES

KIM Jungwoo's message materialized on your lock screen in a bombardment of photons: Hey, you sure you don't wanna come with us tonight? Feel free to still join :')

You slung the strap of your bag over your head and shoulders before shooting him a reply. No thanks Woo :') Appreciate it though! Have fun tonight <3.

Some of the people in the social circle you orbited were heading to the bay tonight for a bonfire rager to celebrate (read: mourning) the beginning of the new university term. Though you hadn’t seen many of the people attending tonight in a couple months, you were never much for big crowds. Plus, the start of the school year brought a whole dumpster fire of things to worry about, so taking a quiet evening with yourself would be well worth it to keep your head on straight.

With the message sent, you hauled your apartment door open and headed out into the late evening. There was a convenient store at the end of the street a couple blocks over that you had been frequenting since freshman year, and you could taste the sweet brioche buns as the store’s fluorescent lights entered your view. It was a small corner store that reminded you much of a traditional 7/11, except there was a corner inside the store where patrons could eat and chill, and the food, arguably, tasted better than alright.

(The seating area inside this place had definitely seen many of your midterm and finals grind nights. And tears. There were lots of tear stains on those tables.)

Your roommate and good friend Miyawaki Sakura often accompanied you here whenever you came to do some studying, shopping, or recreational snacking. Tonight, she was holed up in her room video chatting with some of her cousins in Japan, but most other nights she would be online playing some kind of first person shooter game.

The walk to the nearby convenience store was a short, yet familiar one. You played a song at a faded volume in your earbuds, your hands tucked into the safety of your pockets. It was a warm night out, as late summer clung onto the coattails of early autumn, leaving a strange mixture of green, red, and yellow in the trees. The streets weren’t barren—plenty of people were out and about on a Saturday night—and still, you tilted your head up to the sky to appreciate the beauty of the obsidian sky.

When you reached the end of the block, you entered into the comfortable embrace of the convenience store. It was quiet, as expected, with only the muffled sound of jazz acoustics from the overhead speakers as white noise. The latter combined with the noise from your own device made it all the easier for you to be unaware of the other people here with you.

Your mouth was already watering from the mental image of brioche, and you made a sharp swerve into the familiar bread aisle when you realized—oh, you weren’t alone.

Standing exactly where you knew the brioche buns were stationed was a tall, lanky man with a pair of earbuds hanging from his own ears, one hand examining one of the bread packages while the other was tucked away in his pocket. His dark colored bangs were shaggy and hung in his eyes, but you could’ve recognized that side profile from a mile away. You’d spent nearly half a quarter staring at it, after all—the other half was looking at his front profile and forehead, but those were just as identifiable.

For a moment you stood at the mouth of the aisle weighing your options. Did you say hello, or did you walk away and pretend you didn’t see him?

He decided for you.

Kim Younghoon glanced up from the bread after feeling your eyes on him for a considerable beat of time. He blinked once before you saw the sharp surprise in his expression melt away into soft fondness. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckled, tugging his earbuds out with a charming smile. “Long time no see, Yn.”

You mirrored his actions and slipped the wires into your pocket. “Long time no see,” you agreed, returning his pleasant expression.

You met Younghoon just last year when he stumbled into the math tutoring center with his head held high and a notebook full of question marks. While your friends on shift at that time (Chanhee coaching someone through their linear algebra worksheet; Jungwoo yanking his hair follicles out with a group of freshmen over trigonometry) were busy, it was you who ultimately became Younghoon’s go-to calculus tutor. For the quarter that he took calculus, you helped the drama major through it.

Of course, finding a drama major in a calculus class was a rare occasion, but you both blamed the university’s awful general education requirement. Either way, you’d both found a friend and good company in one another. It didn’t help that he was terribly charismatic, and often filled the spaces in between long text messages about how to calculate the cross-section area of a vase with “good morning”s, “good luck on your midterm!”s, and corny STEM-themed one-liners.

Younghoon was the kind of guy people took home to meet their parents. Not… not that you ever thought about him like that. It was just what you overheard from this group of girls in the tutoring center once—

“I guess we both had the same idea tonight then,” he chuckled as you came to stand beside him to scour the shelf for your victim tonight.

You hummed. “I guess so,” you said. “I usually don’t see you in this area of the district though.” Because you definitely would have seen him. You lived around here, after all.

“Oh,” he grabbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “it’s a funny story actually. I dropped my friends off at a party and I went to the store near them and they had no good selection of bread.” He made a helpless gesture. “So I couldn’t just accept defeat, and now I’ve ended up here.”

You plucked a package of soft brioche from the shelf, then passed him an amused look. There was something unfair about how the harsh LED lights fell so lightly over his facial features. “I guess some form of cosmic coincidence brought us bread-lovers here.”

Younghoon knocked his bread package against yours like he was cheering a glass of champagne. “And might I say what excellent taste you have.”

That drew a laugh from you. “Ditto.”

He pursed his lips then, considering you. “So what social event are you dodging tonight, Miss Mastermind?” Younghoon’s eyebrows arched upwards at you, and you suddenly took on the sheepishness he had before. Though, you definitely noted that familiar nickname that followed his question. You wondered if that was still the name your contact was saved under in his phone. (If he even still had your contact information saved.)

You raised the palm of your hand up to hide half of your face from comical shame. “Now why would you just assume that I’m here because I’m avoiding a social call?”

“Yah,” he chided jokingly, “because I know you.” His eyes turned up to the ceiling for a moment before he added, “And you’re friends with Kim Jungwoo.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

He laughed. “Gotcha.”

“And you say I'm the mastermind?” You quipped back at him, all light-hearted. When he first dubbed you with the nickname, you hadn't known what to do about it. He claimed it was because you somehow made learning calculus fun for him—some “sorcery,” as he accused back then.

“You are!” He exclaimed with excited, wide eyes. “You've hexed me with a love for math puns and acute angles,” he groaned melodramatically, clutching his chest like his heart was about to burst for added effect.

You clicked your tongue, unable to hide your amusement. “Acute angles is a new one.”

“'Cause they remind me of a-cute-ies like you,” he said with his hand shaped into a finger gun, tongue between his teeth.

Your hand went over your face again. “I forgot that you did that.”

“You missed it!”

The smile on your face couldn't even be fully covered with your hand. Maybe you did miss it—or maybe it was just him. When the quarter had wrapped up last year and Younghoon was no longer taking calculus, neither of you had any “excuse” to be around each other anymore. Though you still had his number, you always chickened out of texting him to see how he was doing or if he wanted to hang out.

In your mind, Younghoon was always too cool for you. You didn't feel like you fit into his world.

Younghoon took your hand and drew it away from your face, a slow smile filling his lips. “There she is. You missed me.”

“If you stop asking, I will pay for your bread.”

“As if I'm going to let you do that,” he shook his head. “I'll take that as a yes.”

You both began making your way over to the counter to purchase your individual pastries. You always knew Younghoon liked bread, and you shouldn't be so surprised that he drove halfway down the district just to find a specific brioche bun. It was funny and strange how the universe worked. At times you wondered if the probability of fate could be calculated—

“So it's just you tonight?” You asked him as the two of you lingered just outside the convenience store with your freshly purchased breads in hand. You had both immediately torn into your brioche as soon as you cleared the threshold, and the fluffy pastry filled your mouth and stomach with utter joy. It was buttery and sweet and soft… perfection.

Younghoon shoved the piece in his mouth into his cheek. “For the most part, yeah,” he replied, his shoulder lifting in a half shrug. “You?”

“Yeah, Kkura's at home, but she's on call with someone. Jungwoo did invite me out to that big bonfire at the bay tonight, but…” You shook your head.

His head tilted slightly. “Oh yeah I heard about that.” For a second, he didn't say anything, and then he murmured, “Crowd anxiety.”

You hummed, eyes shooting over to his. “Hm?”

“Crowd anxiety, right?” He asked with more confidence. “I—you can correct me if I'm wrong—but I just remember you mentioning something about crowd anxiety last year.”

Your chewing slowed for a moment, and a small smile curled onto your lips. “No, you got it right.” He remembered. Of course, he remembered. A warm feeling made itself comfortable in your chest.

Younghoon seemed to brighten. “Good, I'm glad I remembered correctly,” he said while leaning his shoulder against the wall of the convenience store. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did you ever happen to watch that performance of 12 Angry Jurors I recommended?”

Uh oh. You could physically feel your neurons spark at the familiar title. It was the equivalent to a bell—no, alarm—rattling around inside your noggin.

Younghoon threw his head back in a laugh at how your face rearranged into an expression of pure mortification. "You look like I just caught you with a hand in the canary cage—oh my god, you should see your face!"

You were helpless at this point, and no words were coming to your tongue to rescue you. Screw all the differential calculus—where was language ability when you needed it? “I can explain myself,” was all you came up with.

He crossed his arms over his chest, fixing you with a pointed look, albeit still amused. "I'd love to hear this."

“You know that some things just slip my mind—”

“Yes, and that's why I watched you put it into your calendar.”

“And you know that the school has a bad habit of scheduling big events on the same night—”

He cocked a brow at you, leaning forward slightly. “I don't like where this is going, you workaholic.”

You gestured at him with the piece of bread in between your fingers, and he had to cover his mouth to keep from snorting. “I am not a workaholic,” you said firmly.

“Sure you aren't,” he replied back in a tone that indicated he thought the exact opposite.

“Anyways, they put the research symposium on the same night as the last showing—”

“Ah-ha!” He cried with a triumphant finger pointed at the sky. You were convinced that any second now, he was going to start twiddling an immaculately curled mustache. “So you did procrastinate!”

You pressed your lips together as you crumpled your empty packaging, then raised a finger up to scratch your head sheepishly. “Maybe I did.”

Younghoon drew out an exhale. “Aye, I knew it. You know, I think you're just about married to your work, Yn-ah.” His mouth quirked to the side and he scratched the underside of his jaw. “But I guess that's not a bad thing.”

You gave a small wince. “You're not mad I missed the play?”

“Mad? No, of course not. It wasn't my play,” he joked. “I know you have priorities, and me being mad would just be silly.”

“But you are disappointed,” you countered pointedly.

“Disappointed for you,” he countered. “That was a pretty good performance of 12 Angry Jurors. Though… there is one part that I would have chosen to represent differently, but…” He shrugged, letting the thought float out into the ether.

“What is it?” You prompted.

His lip curled upward and he let out a little chuckle. “I'm not telling you; it'll spoil the ending!”

You were unconvinced. “I'm never gonna see the play, Hoon.”

“Not with that attitude,” he shot back.

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of you from his sass that came out of left field for you. The sound of your joy made his smile widen and his eyes narrow into pretty, upturned crescent moons. The warmth all around you wasn't just from the evening's temperature. You'd forgotten just how easy it was to talk to Younghoon, and you decided that yes, you definitely missed him. But with all good things, it was written with a curtain call.

Younghoon seemed reluctant to push off of the wall and away from you. “Well, I shouldn't keep you any longer,” he said. There was a down turned angle to the corners of his smile now. “I do need to go re-find parking for when I have to go hunt my drunk friends down.”

Your laugh was small. “Good luck with that. And… don't worry about keeping me anywhere too long.”

“Thanks, and I'll keep that in mind.” His tongue stuck out between his teeth for a second, his head ducking down to shake his hair out of his eyes. “Hey, you still have my phone number, right?”

“I do.”

Whether harsh or dim lighting, it highlighted his features beautifully regardless. His eyes twinkled. “Now I know you won't ignore me if I send you another calc pun.”

“I'll look forward to it,” you promised.

The two of you were beginning to step toward your opposite directions, but failed to make your legs move any further. “Get home safe, Yn,” he murmured in goodbye. The possibility of him never reaching out crossed your mind. It wasn't like you didn't have faith that he would; rather, it was your own thoughts creeping into your head that you two came from different worlds. Despite the friendliness between you, that was the whole reason you shied away from ever reaching out. It was nothing personal against him.

EPISODE TWO: PASS GO & COLLECT TWO HUNDRED

GRAVITY reminded you of its existence when a bundle of fabric hit you square in the head. (Then again, you were always reminded of gravity’s existence when you thought about it…) “Yah—hey!” You clawed the article of fabric off your head and whirled around in your desk chair with a scowl. “Kkura!”

Sakura blinked innocently from where she stood at your closet, hand on her hip. “Put it on.”

You made a face as you straightened out the garment in your hands, the frown deepening when you realized which top it was. Or rather, which dress it was. “I haven’t seen this since I unpacked my clothes from boxes two years ago,” you whistled lowly. It was a black satin piece, something you brought along with you from home in case you ever decided to go to an event that called for a cocktail dress. Most of the formal events you attended though usually allowed you to get away with dress pants and a blouse. This poor piece of fabric had been relegated to the back of your closet since.

Your friend resumed sorting through your clothes for any alternatives or more of that kind. “I didn’t even know you owned something like that. I thought all your bottoms clung to your ankles unless they were shorts.”

“I have variety,” you sniffed and draped the dress over the back of your chair. “And what's wrong with bottoms going to my ankles? I like when they get to be warm.”

“That's what socks and shoes are for.”

“Says the girl who wears jeans that pretty much cover her shoes.”

Sakura shot you a look that reminded you of when your mother was exasperated, but she didn't want to admit that you were right. “Okay, so maybe we both have problems. But that's besides the point!” She walked away from your closet to sit herself on the edge of your bed, her hand dragging the arm of your desk chair to roll you over away from your desk. “We're going to a party tonight!”

She beamed, waving her hands around. When you only gave her a blank stare, she cleared her throat. “Ahem, I said, we're going to a party tonight! Woo!”

You pursed your lips. “Not very woo, to be honest.”

“You're not very woo,” she quipped in a deadpan.

“No, no, no!” You cut in, waving your finger back and forth. “Don't pretend like you wouldn't rather stay home than party either. And besides, you know that I don't do crowds.” You gazed off into space as if recalling the Great War with glazed-over eyes, already smelling the sweat and booze, and feeling the suffocating pressure in your chest as people squished up against you, and as you lost sight of your friend or anyone you knew for that matter, in the sea of—

“I know,” Sakura pushed out an exhale, and your eyes shuddered as you came out of that headspace. “But I think it'll be good for us. I mean, you need to get your eyes away from that grant application for one second, and I—”

“Need to stop playing League?” You suggested cheekily.

Your friend's scowl coaxed a high pitched wheezing sound out of you. She pursed her lips. “I was going to offer to hold your hand while we were in the house, but I guess not—”

“Okay, now let's not get ahead of ourselves!” You countered. The glint in Sakura's eyes when you interrupted her told you all you needed to know. Damn her cleverness; she'd got you once again.

Maybe she was the real mastermind.

Two hours later—the both of you dolled up and willpower strong (ish)—you clung to Sakura's hand as you and she slipped into the lively host house for tonight's festivities. Sweat already dampened the lines in your palm, and you moved your grip on your friend to hold onto her arm instead. You hadn't been to a house party or a frat party in a while, the last one being a birthday party for one of your friends from differential calculus turning twenty-one.

This instance was different. For one, there were far too many people packed together per square inch. And second, who thought turning down the lights was a good idea? You were already half blind as it was…

“I think we should get a drink!” Sakura shouted as she sent you an encouraging smile.

Your eyes widened as you narrowly missed getting someone's shoulder shoved into your face. “Yes, a drink sounds great!”

It was a war zone as the two of you maneuvered yourselves through the crowded living room space. The only reason people seemed to converge in that room in particular was because it had been turned into a makeshift dance floor. There were also people seated on the stairs, leaning over the upstairs landing, and meandering around in the halls.

You could feel your head begin to fog up as you unconsciously shifted closer to Sakura's side. Your friend curled her arm around your shoulders, deftly guiding you through the fray to the light at the end of the tunnel—the kitchen. There was a distinct lightening of your chest as you stepped foot into the less crowded space. The kitchen was still only dimly lit with the most minimal of light switches flipped on, but it was still enough where you could at least see your hand in front of your face and the light layer of sweat on Sakura’s brow. You made a swift scan of the area and spotted three people over by the kitchen counter, one of whom was slumped over the countertop, dozing off.

Oh, to be him right now.

“Oh, hello,” greeted one of the trio. He was stationed behind the counter like a bartender, his purple bangs brushed out of his face. The girl with him lifted her hand in a friendly wave.

“Hi, we’re not—uh, interrupting or anything?” Sakura said as your hold on her arm loosened considerably now that you were in an area that was much less crowded.

The two of them shook their heads with too much enthusiasm. “No, no! Definitely not.”

You and Sakura exchanged glances of incredulity, but didn’t push the topic any further. With pleasantries aside, the two of you excused yourselves to peruse the display of alcoholic beverages on the island space. You knew Sakura could hold her alcohol a decent amount, and so could you, so you both looked around for bottles of flavored soju to hold you over for the evening.

You dug around in one of the coolers and withdrew twin bottles of strawberry-flavored ones. “Kkura!”

Her blue-colored head perked up and she brightened as you waved your treasures around in the air. “Ooh, yay! You know, I think we should restock our stash of melon soju at home,” she mused and came over to where you were.

With your drinks secured, you each took the first sip like a shot, then linked arms to face the crowd again.

Drinking either made your anxiety rocket or relax—it depended on the beverage and the kind of day you’d had, but as you nursed your bottle for moments longer, the heaviness in your chest began to gradually recede.

The crowd anxiety you harbored was a byproduct of being the middle child of five siblings. You loved your family to bits, but sometimes home life was overwhelming. It wasn't that you got nervous around people, but more so in large bodies of people. The first year or so of your university life spent in large undergraduate lectures were absolute hell; there was an appeal to the upper division classes besides specialized interests.

But your friends were all aware and took good care of you, which you were more than grateful for.

“Is it just me—” Sakura said to you loudly with blue and purple lights painting her features, “—or does this soju taste really good tonight?”

You smacked your lips together as you savored the sweet taste. “You're definitely right,” you said. “We might have to go back for more.”

“If we can remember how to get there,” she giggled.

“Wait, what's in here?” You steered the two of you into a doorway to your left.

From the looks of the massive table stretching from one end to the next, you had stumbled upon the dining room. The room was large enough for there to be a few different groups of people occupying sections, but the largest one took reign over the farthest end. Your eyes widened in delight when you recognized two people in particular. “Oh wow.”

“Yn?” Chanhee exclaimed in disbelief. He was partly hunched over what looked like a board game as his deft fingers counted out paper money. “You're here?”

Everyone—well, almost everyone—turned their heads to see who Chanhee was talking about. Nonetheless, there were still quite the amount of eyes looking at you and you felt your palms begin to get sweaty around your bottle neck.

Younghoon gasped. “YN!” He grinned, lumbering over with his jelly-like limbs, tripping over people's legs and chairs. You could see the alcohol in his expression before you smelled it, but you couldn't just not hug him when he wrapped his arms around you in greeting. You hadn't seen him since last week at the convenience store but even then, the surprise had yet to escape you. What a cosmic coincidence.

“Hey, Hoon,” you chuckled in amusement, patting his back affectionately. You didn't know he would be so affectionate when drunk, but then again, this was the first time you were experiencing him like this.

“Big guy's a little drunk,” Sakura observed, then lifted her bottle to her lips. “Are you guys playing Monopoly?”

One of the guys, who looked the most of sound mind and state, nodded. “Yeah. D'you guys wanna play?”

Younghoon placed his hands on your shoulders with a goofy grin slipping onto his face as he pulled away. “You should play with us! Guys—” he announced to his friends, “—this is my bestest friend, Yn!”

“And her friend, Sakura,” you cut in, gesturing to Sakura with jazz hands.

“And we would love to play,” Sakura added.

You passed her a glance. There was mischief dancing in her eyes. You supposed at least you knew what you were getting into before jumping into any game with the Miyawaki Sakura. These poor chumps never stood a chance.

“Okay, but Chanhee's the iron,” remarked one of the other boys while you, Sakura, and Younghoon made your way over to where they all were gathered.

You snorted at Chanhee's less than pleased expression. “Why does he insist that you be the flat iron?” You nudged your friend. You met Chanhee and Jungwoo in a shared freshman differential calculus class where the three of you weathered the war together.

Chanhee sighed, his tongue poking his cheek. “Because apparently I have no ass.”

“BECAUSE YOU DON'T!”

“NEITHER DO YOU!”

With none of that settled, a good majority of the people present gathered around the Monopoly board on the table to play. You, Sakura, and Chanhee all clambered onto the dining table to sit while the others rounded the end of the table. It also gave you a little room to breathe while playing with such a large group.

“Ladies first,” declared one of the boys, who's name you learned was Sunwoo, his eyes at half mast and cheeks flushed like red grapefruit.

“If you insist,” Sakura sang and did a little dance as she swiped the dice up to roll.

You placed a hand over your eyes jokingly. “Look away!”

Haknyeon blinked with his eyes wide. “Why?”

“Because she's about to win faster than you can say pass go and collect two hundred.”

In retrospect, you saw this coming. Even if the universe could construct more possible futures than you had atoms on the tip of your pinky finger, you definitely could have seen this coming.

The aftermath immediately following Sakura's utter domination of the Monopoly board left all of her opponents in a sputtering mess. Your friend dusted her fingers off as if there were crumbs on them, a very satisfied Cheshire's cat grin crawling onto her lips. “You can fight it or just accept it,” she shrugged, taking the last swing of her soju.

Eric stared up at her from where he knelt in front of the table, gripping the edge with his palms. He was all wide-eyed and full of wonder. “Teach me your ways.”

“If you get me another soju,” she offered, gesturing with her empty bottle. She probably didn’t expect him to take her up on the offer, because her eyes widened a comical amount when the kid rocketed up to his feet and darted out of the room, faster than she could blink.

“Is he usually like that, so hyper?” You jested to Chanhee as you and he began reorganizing the paper money.

Your pink-haired friend laughed. “Kind of. Youngjae's cute.”

“And what am I, Channieeee?” Came an inebriated Changmin. He teetered over to where you and Chanhee were, then unceremoniously draped himself over the latter's back.

“Ahhhhhh,” Chanhee groaned, “Ji Changmin!”

“Answer my question!” His friend slurred. “I think Yn thinks I'm cute. D'you think I'm cute?” He asked, gazing up with you in a deep pout and puppy dog eyes.

“Don't answer that question, Yn. It's like making a deal with the Devil.”

Changmin scoffed, straightening to a surprisingly perfect posture. He slapped a hand to his chest in offense. “How could you! Chanhee-ssi! We're supposed to be friends!”

You chuckled, leaning out of that dumpster fire of a conversation, and finding yourself in the company of one very loopy bread enthusiast. Younghoon had slipped back from watching the game about three quarters of the way through and slumped into a chair with a can of beer and his phone. At some point, you had given up on Monopoly, too, and considered joining him. Now, you really did move over to join him.

His head perked up when you leaned over and poked his shoulder, a smile coming to his face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled back. “Tired?”

He gave a slow, drawn-out nod. “Mhm,” he hummed. He lifted the can of beer to his lips and finished it off, then dropped his phone into his lap so he could rest his face between his hands. “I'm kind of hungry.”

You laughed. “I bet. How much did you drink, Hoon?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged.

“Long week?”

“Veeeery long week,” he nodded. “Like…” He spread his arms to his full wingspan, “this much.”

A giggle bubbled out of your mouth at how adorable he was when he was drunk.

Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. “Oh my gosh, Yn! I never sent you the joke I found,” he frowned. “I found it and thought about sending it to you, but then…”

“You forgot?” You offered.

“I just didn't wanna bother you, to be honest.”

Oh. Something in you softened a great deal at the confession. You were always so sure that you would have been the bother, because it was difficult to imagine that someone who seemed so sure of himself like Younghoon might also feel the same. You mimicked his position with your hands holding up your face. “You're never a bother, Younghoon.”

“Even when I ask dumb questions about factoring?”

“There is no such thing as a dumb question.”

He pursed his lips into a line, unconvinced. “You're too nice. No wonder I liked doing math homework.”

You laughed again at the unexpected compliment, and Younghoon smiled to himself. “I'm glad you enjoyed doing your calc homework.”

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then snapped it shut with wide, doe-like eyes. “I was going to say a joke, but I realized that I probably shouldn't say that one in particular.”

“Wow, you have a filter when you're drunk?” You teased.

“Hey!” He pretended to sulk. “I'm not that drunk!”

A beat passed, and then he said, “I am still hungry though.” Yeah, definitely drunk.

Within fifteen minutes, you convinced Sakura to accompany you and Younghoon to the convenience store a couple blocks from your apartment. The three of you together managed to snag Chanhee to drive you all, as well as Changmin as an accessory since he and Chanhee lived together. Younghoon had once again insisted on this place in particular because he thoroughly enjoyed the brioche bun from the other day and had been missing it since. You and he settled down at the seating area in the corner of the store with your freshly-purchased bread, while the others traipsed around in search of other sustenance.

Younghoon's cheeks were full of brioche as he muttered a muffled, “You know why I like—calculus jokes?” He swallowed his bite, his eyebrows braiding together as he stared at his now empty package.

You quietly plucked the empty bag out of his hands and replaced it with yours.

He melted at the action. “I do.”

You bursted into a fit of giggles and Younghoon followed straight after you. Your face filled with fire and his bloomed like a blood red rose. The alcohol was slowly settling in. You were a lot more refreshed now that you were outside of the crowd setting, and your chest felt much lighter. “You do?”

“I do,” he reaffirmed, tearing the last bit of bread apart for you both to share instead. “You know why I like—” he hiccupped with the bread half in his mouth. His face morphed into one of confusion, then utter disdain.

You stifled a laugh with your bite of carbs. “Why do you like calculus jokes, Younghoon?” You asked to help him out.

He swallowed his bite. “Because—trig jokes are too graphic and algebra ones are too for—” He hiccupped again, his eyes shooting up toward the ceiling in exasperation.

“Formulaic?” You offered.

Younghoon frowned. “You know this one?”

“I enjoy guessing.”

“Hm,” he grunted, unconvinced. “There is one outlier though.” When he hiccupped for the third time, you patiently waited for him to fill in the blank. “Statistics.”

A small smile wormed its way onto your face. “I have to say, that was very subtle but very good.”

Younghoon beamed with pride. “I knew you would get i—” Another hiccup. He deadpanned. “I hate this.”

You stood up with a chuckle. “Let me get you some water.”

“Thanks,” he pouted. You felt his eyes on you the whole time you went over to the free water cooler over at the counter, and even as you brought him back the little paper cup of liquid.

As he drained the cup, you lingered next to where he sat rather than sitting back down. “Better?” You asked, then held your hand out to take the cup back if he wanted more.

He shook his head though, and he raised it up to his eyes while squinting one of them to aim it at the trash can behind your seat. “How do I get this exactly inside the trash?”

You blinked, eyeballing the distance between his seat and the trash can. The paper cup wasn't going to have a lot of weight while it was empty, but if he threw it with the opening facing him instead…

Younghoon made a noise that sounded a lot like a child's giggle. “Hehe, you're actually doing the math in your head.”

“You don't know that,” you muttered.

“Of course I know that.” He shucked the paper cup and it landed in the trash can with a clean swish sound. He threw his hands in the air. “Woo! Crowd goes wild.”

You laughed and slid back into your seat. “See, you didn't need math to get the cup into the trash can. Nice throw, Hoon.”

He grinned at you. “Thanks. You know how I knew you were doing the math in your head?”

“How?” You humored him amiably.

“Because you get this cute little wrinkle between your eyes, riiiight there—” He leaned forward and booped the place between your eyes, making you go cross-eyed for a split second. “—when you're processing info.”

“Processing info makes me sound like a computer,” you joked.

“Too bad you're not a keyboard,” he said with a sigh, “you'd be just my type.”

An unnaturally loud guffaw came out of your mouth and you slapped your hand over it. There was far too much mirth between the two of you right now. “You're telling me you're good at this drunk, too?” You shook your head, the laugh lingering on your tongue, “Y'know what? I shouldn't be surprised.”

If Younghoon could come up with pick-up lines to remember how to do calculus sober, then you should not have underestimated him drunk.

“Changmin, can you put the plunger down before we get kicked out?” Your head turned toward the sound of Chanhee's pure exhaustion as the three others rounded the corner. You imagined Chanhee dealt with drunk Changmin more than a few times to sound so exasperated. You didn't even want to know what Changmin was doing with the plunger.

Sakura, Chanhee, and Changmin bumbled over to where you and Younghoon sat, the supposed plunger nowhere to be seen. Chanhee brushed a lock of pink out of his eyes with a deep sigh. “Alright; shall we?”

EPISODE THREE: DO AS THE PHYSICISTS DO

THE hungrier Younghoon woke up, the more he likely had to drink the night prior. His stomach growled something horrific and he groaned, rolling his body over to squish his face into his pillow. There were no trains of thought running through his mind at the moment; there was only blissful quiet. And hunger. Goddamn it, he was hungry.

With a huff, he dragged himself upright as if he were rising from the dead. He gave his head a rough shake, eyes bleary as he blinked once… then twice… Oh, yuck. Sticky eyelashes.

There was something white on his desk that caught his eye. There was a yellow sticky note marked with Chanhee's chicken scratch beside it: Yn sent you home with this bottle of painkillers. In case you don't remember, lol.

Dear god, it was coming back to him now.

Younghoon lowered himself down onto the edge of his bed and dragged a hand down his face. Had he been weird? Did you think he was weird now?

His phone was buried somewhere beneath his mess of sheets, and he pulled up your contact that he still had saved from last year. The last message sent was from a brief conversation you both had after his calculus final about what you were both doing when you went home for the winter break. He could feel the warmth creeping up to his cheeks from his neck as he typed out the first message to you since: heyy… about last night…

It was a bit of a surprise when he saw your reply come in nearly straight away.

miss mastermind: LOL good morning, did u sleep okay? younghoon's phone: decently ig 😅 thanks for the painkillers btw i will def take a couple of those miss mastermind: yeah no worries younghoon's phone: how bad was i last night, yn 😭 u can tell me miss mastermind: 😭 u weren't that bad… okay maybe u started singing the calculus parody of bohemian rhapsody on the way to my apartment…

Younghoon snickered into his palm as he stared at the messages on the screen. That memory was definitely rolling back into his head now. It was that, along with the Monopoly game, then the convenience store, and finally, the walk to yours and Sakura's apartment before Chanhee dropped him off here.

miss mastermind: i can't say im too surprised u remembered it tho 😭 sometimes i forget that ur trained to remember things younghoon's phone: that's a funny way to describe being an actor LMAO younghoon's phone: but also i'd be lying if i didn't admit that im so embarrassed abt last night miss mastermind: nooo don't be!! it's all good, i thought u were a very cute drunk

He smiled against his hand. He typed: Well now I just have to make it up to you.

miss mastermind: u absolutely do not younghoon's phone: actually i do younghoon's phone: if i recall correctly, u gave me the rest of ur BREAD. that's like…|

He paused, having nearly written “marriage proposal.” Quickly backspacing, he replaced it with “donating an organ.” Maybe he was a little delusional, but he could've sworn he heard your laugh echoing in his head after he sent it and saw the indicator appear that you were typing. He reached over to grab the bottle of painkillers as he monitored your texts coming in.

miss mastermind: DONATING AN ORGAN… miss mastermind: yk, i knew u liked bread, but not THIS much younghoon's phone: but ofc :0 she's my first love miss mastermind: understood o7 now ik how to sway ur judgment ☝️ younghoon's phone: le gasp younghoon's phone: truly evil mastermind things only miss mastermind: the le gasp is taking me out 😭 younghoon's phone: how abt /i/ take u out instead 😗

As soon as he sent it, he grimaced. Oh no, this was going to be taken out of context. You were going to go through the whole “sorry, I'm not really interested in you” talk, and he would have to sit through it pretending like it didn't hurt—he didn't mean for it to sound like that. You were just friends after all.

younghoon's phone: I MEAN LIKE younghoon's phone: for watching over me and humoring me last night yk! it doesn't have to be something fancy either, just something that we can do as friends! and to say thanks

His grimace deepened. Those clarification texts did nothing to help his case. It also did not calm his nerves when you failed to respond immediately like you had been for the past few minutes. “Well, you've done it now,” he muttered to himself as he frowned down at the screen.

For a couple minutes, there was nothing from your end and he forced himself to drag his ass off the bed in search of sustenance. Hyunjae's door was closed, so the rest of the apartment was quiet as he bounded out of his room toward the kitchen. Periodically (read: every couple seconds), Younghoon would glance at his phone screen waiting for your reply. “What are you scared of?” He said to himself as he opened the fridge and scratched his jaw. “You literally came up with pick-up lines for calculus terms with her.”

There were leftovers from a couple nights ago, and Younghoon grabbed those to heat up. He closed the refrigerator with his hip, eyes darting to his phone, only to see his screen light up. He dropped the leftover container on the counter and scooped the device up.

miss mastermind: i really don't think it's necessary to pay it back or anything, but we can def hang out! miss mastermind: also sorry my sister stole my phone TT but i got it back haha It was sad how fast relief flushed through him at that moment. younghoon's phone: oh no dw abt it lol ur with family rn? miss mastermind: i am! my aunt's in town and so i was summoned home for brunch 🤧 younghoon's phone: …is there :’)) uhm french toast :’)) miss mastermind: *sent a photo* younghoon's phone: that was cruel. miss mastermind: HAHAHA SORRY 😭

Younghoon stuck his leftovers into the microwave to heat up, but was suddenly craving French toast. He knew for certain he didn't have everything to make it right this second though. Maybe he would wake Hyunjae up to go impromptu grocery shopping.

younghoon's phone: i don't wanna keep u away from ur family any longer, but lmk if u have any preferences for what we should do together miss mastermind: no prefs in particular and dw, talking to u helps distract me from the amount of chaos happening in this house :’) miss mastermind: i do have to go now tho unfortunately :l my sister looks like she's abt to snatch my phone again 😭 younghoon's phone: LOL 😭 okay i'll talk to u soon then younghoon's phone: enjoy ur toast :/ miss mastermind: HAHA i'll save u a slice hoon 😋

The microwave beeped its conclusion, and Younghoon pulled the piping hot bowl of leftover food out. As he took a stab at it with his fork, he came to the swift conclusion that he was not going to be full on this. As he shoveled the food into his mouth, he started toward Hyunjae's room to give his friend a very rude awakening. “HYUNJAE! WE NEED FRENCH TOAST!”

There was no better place than the convenience store at the ripe timestamp of ten o'clock to meet with a friend. You'd gotten back from your house at around four o'clock in the afternoon, so you weren't too tired, though the cleanup and all the social interaction was threatening to take you out. Any school work or grant application work would have to wait until tomorrow.

Nonetheless, you felt a giddy sort of excitement bubble up in you as you hustled yourself down the street to the convenience store to meet Younghoon. In your hands, you clutched a small, sandwich-sized Tupperware container with a slice of holy French toast within. It was your older brother's favorite thing to make when he had to contribute to a brunch (or, let's face it, any meal) spread.

Younghoon had never been tardy to your tutoring sessions last year, so you weren't surprised when you saw him seated at your usual table in the corner. He glanced up from his phone as you walked in, waving. There was a blue colored beanie over his head and a brown corduroy jacket draped over his shoulders.

He noted the container in your hands and his eyes widened like saucers. “You did not.”

“I told you I would save you a piece,” you said sheepishly as you set the container down in front of him and took a seat.

“You—” His bottom lip jutted out. “I can't accept this.”

“You have to. It has your name on it,” you insisted, pointing out the little “Younghoon” scrawled on the side in Sharpie with a smiley face. It was customary in your household to write names on containers if they weren't already color coded or marked with a label. Label makers cost more than Sharpies did, and most of the time, your family didn't mind scrubbing the ink off if needed.

Younghoon's smile was sweet like the pastry sitting in the Tupperware. “I literally made French toast as soon as we stopped texting.”

You laughed. “No way.”

“Yes way! I dragged Hyunjae's ass out of bed,” he told you with great energy, eyes alight as he recalled his late morning antics to you. “I really didn't expect that you would bring me a slice, Yn, you sweetheart.”

“We had lots of leftovers and I just knew the most enthusiastic bread fanatic I knew had to try some of my big brother's toast,” you told him, pleased with his reaction.

He seemed at a loss for words; he just kept looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and you wondered how you could replicate this reaction over and over again. “Thank you,” was what he settled on. “I—” He gestured to the container, to you, to the container, “It means a lot.”

“You're welcome,” you said simply.

Younghoon heaved a great sigh and stood up. “Now I have to buy you some snacks—no. Yn, sit your ass down.”

Your eyes widened a comical amount and you plopped yourself back onto the chair.

His lips wiggled as he held back a smile. “Don't move.”

“You don't have to do this, Hoon,” you shook your head as he began making his way over to the aisles.

“What's that rule in chemistry? Energy can neither be created nor destroyed?” He queried from within the drinks aisle.

“The first law of thermodynamics,” you supplied. “It's not just chemistry though. It's relevant in all the sciences.” You weren't sure where he was going with this.

“Yeah, well—” He paused. You couldn't see him from where you were, but even the rustling noises stopped. “Shit, that's not the right rule.”

You bit back a laugh. Oh, he was too adorable.

“What's the one where equal and opposite and…?”

Your brain tripped. “Uh, the—the 'for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction’ one?”

More crinkling. “Aha! That's the one. Yeah, so for your actions, I must do as the physicists do, and react accordingly.”

Younghoon returned to you with an entire treasure trove of goodies that you swore amounted to more than what was due. (That number to you was technically zero, but for Younghoon's insistence, it was slightly over zero… maybe one one-thousandth.) It was a smorgasbord of peach drinks with lychee jelly, potato chips, daifuku mochi, and of course, bread buns. It was a feast in its own right. You both dove straight into the snacks before you. When life gave one lemons, one was to make lemonade.

Younghoon popped a chip into his mouth. “Do you come here often? Is this your hangout spot?” He suddenly asked, then dipped his hand into the bag and waved a chip around in the air, a quizzical kink in his brow. “I mean, you do live close by and you seem to be very familiar with the place.”

You screwed the cap of your bottle of juice back on and wiggled your fingers as you surveyed what snack to eat next. “I do hang out here often—you’re right,” you replied. The daifuku looked very appetizing right about now. “I've been coming by since school started to knock out my grant app.”

He perked up curiously. “Grant app?”

“It's for the Space Grant.” In partnership with the national space organization, your university offered something called the Space Grant, which would grant three applicants with a monetary award that could be used toward their education in aerospace. You'd had your eye on it even before you began attending this school, and you were determined to be one of the three who won it this year.

After you briefed him on the cause of much of your recent stress, Younghoon gave an indulging nod. “Mmmmh, I see. You're still aerospace engineering then, right?”

“Yep,” you chirped. “me and propulsion theory to the end. I guess I'm an airplane kid.” At the latter, you made a face. You were the space version of an airplane kid… the alternate of train kids and car kids…

“Don't think about it too much,” he said with corners of his smile peeking out on either side of where he pressed his fist against his lips.

You tried not to. “How about you? What have you been up to?”

He breathed out an exhale. “Hm? Oh, like, with drama?”

“Sure, anything and everything about you.” You leaned your cheek against your fist and peered over at him. “We've been talking about me too much.”

“Nonsense,” he tsked. “You already know I recite lines, dabble in the hilariously good pun on occasion, and am incredibly obsessed with carbohydrates.”

“What more could I possibly wanna know?” You played along.

“Exactly.” He chuckled then, tongue darting out for a second to wet his lips. “Jokes aside, nothing too much. Hyunjae's best friend, HJ!Yn—she’s a director and writer, and she's putting on her own play in the spring that I'll be auditioning for.”

Your eyebrows arched in interest. “Oh? What's it about?”

“No clue.”

You nodded. “Ah, well, good luck—or, break a leg. People say that, right? It's not just in movies?”

“People do say that, yes,” he affirmed. “And thank you. I'm gonna start a part-time teaching job at a school nearby for their theater program, which I think will be fun.”

“That does sound fun,” you agreed. Because you had two younger siblings yourself, you knew that taking care of young ones was a lot, but if anyone could do it, you knew Younghoon could. You imagined he would do quite well with them. “Let me know when they have a performance!”

His eyes twinkled in the fluorescent lights; you were beginning to grow more accustomed to the way the harsh brightness painted his features softer. “You have to promise to come though. This is more important than 12 Angry Jurors.”

You placed a hand against your heart in playful solemnity. “I, Yn Ln, do solemnly swear that I will try my very best to make it to see their performance.”

He cleared his throat, his expression falling into an expertly grave facade. “I accept your promise,” he said and extended his hand out to you across the table, “shake my hand, and may the deal never be broken.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from breaking out of character as you shook his hand. When you'd both withdrawn your hands, you watched him, fascinated, as he exited out of character. It was like a switch had been flicked off behind his eyes. Crazy.

Satisfied, Younghoon laced his fingers beneath his chin with a giddy, little smile on his face. “I'll save you an aisle seat.”

“I appreciate that,” you said. You really did—and he really remembered.

“And I'll make silly faces at you from the curtain wings.”

You laughed, telling him you couldn't wait.

EPISODE FOUR: TRAINS GO BOOM?

THERE were too many fires to put out at once. You were becoming the humanoid version of that dog in a burning house meme, and you didn't like it. It was not fine.

“Girl, I wish you'd told me, like, three weeks ago—”

You tasted the rejection a mile out.

“—I already committed to this robotics thing that night,” Jungwoo cried in anguish as he threw his head back. “I could've gone to the Space Gala! Instead, I'm watching people play with robots.”

You passed him a sympathetic look. “Robots are cool.”

“But I don't even get to do anything! I can only spectate!” You both stopped in the middle of your walk as he made unintelligible noises and gesticulations. Jungwoo grabbed your shoulders and shook them. “YN! WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE? I have to pay to watch people have fun.”

Your head was wobbling back and forth like a bobble head. Thank god for spines. “Woo—I’m gonna be honest—”

He stopped shaking you.

“I have no idea,” you said to him. “But we are in the same boat.”

The two of you were currently situated on the engineering side of campus. Most of the buildings around you were geared toward the great spectrum of engineering students—from electrical and computer, to aerospace and nautical. You just got out of a numericals simulation course and caught up with Jungwoo coming out of the engineering library to present to him your newest dilemma.

Jungwoo's posture sank. “I only have regrets after pursuing MechE.”

You pursed your lips, lamely patting him on the shoulder. “I told you aero is cooler.”

“I won't dignify that with an answer,” he sulked. Jungwoo picked himself up, however, as he always did. He carded a hand through his floppy brown bangs, eyes flickering down to his phone screen before his eyeballs nearly fell out of his socket. “Oh shit—I’m gonna be late to advanced mathematics. Chanhee is gonna murder me.”

He bumped your shoulder with the back of his hand. “Good luck on finding a plus one, Yn-ie!”

“Good luck getting there before Chanhee,” you hollered back.

Jungwoo threw you an expression that needed no subtitles, but fitting ones would read, That was so unnecessary!

As your friend sprinted in one direction, you began walking in the opposite direction. You had a little more than a couple hours before your next lecture, so you could probably either walk around and enjoy the day's nice weather or find a place to work. All bets were off when you felt your phone buzz from your pocket, and you saw the message on the screen. It was a text from your older sister: hey mom's asking if u have something to wear to the wedding lol.

The “LOL” at the end really downplayed how much stress this was going to give you. The entire event of The Wedding had slipped from your mind over the past week—actually, you were pretty sure you forgot the moment you got back into your car to drive home from brunch last weekend.

If you thought you had a large immediate family, your extended one would silence all thoughts instantly. One of your cousins-in-law was getting married in December, which meant you needed to find an outfit and mentally prepare yourself for the amount of people there were going to be in one room.

The Wedding made you anxious.

You shot your sister a frazzled text back. It was something along the lines of: maybe… lemme check the back of my closet… or pray I have funds in my bank account.

You somehow made your way to one of the green spaces on campus. It wasn't the main lawn that people picnicked or hung out on, but it was still just as beautiful as the main one. It also sat right by the café located down here in the engineering corner; you and your friends liked to loiter around here when the weather was nice.

It was exactly why you thought you were hallucinating when you saw Younghoon walking toward you.

“Younghoon?” You voice incredulously. “What're you doing here?”

He beamed at you, reaching a hand up to cup the back of his neck. “Oh, you know, just taking a walk and enjoying this nice, autumn weather…”

“Down in the engineering buildings?”

He sniffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I wasn't purposely trying to look for you or anything,” he said and rocked back and forth on his heels.

You didn't need to know rocket science to read him. “Okay,” you drawled. “Say I believe you.”

“Divine coincidence,” he shrugged helplessly, jovially, even. His eyes were upturned in cute crescent moons. “Oh! And would you look at that—” He swung his backpack around to the front of his body and withdrew your plastic container from its depths, empty and clean, with even his sharpied name scrubbed off. “I just happened to have this on me.”

You sputtered out a laugh and accepted the container from him. “How funny that this pattern of events keeps happening.”

“Pfft, I know, right?” He brushed a hand through his hair. “So, uh, what're you up to?”

“What am I up to?” You parroted. “Not sure, to be honest. I've got a couple hours to kill. What about you?”

Younghoon gestured to the walkway that bordered the perimeter of the engineering lawn. You fell into step beside one another. “Nothing much, too. I kind of just needed a little walk outside to clear my head.”

You sighed, nodding. “I get that.”

“That sounded… very heavy,” he said, passing you a glance. “Something on your mind, Mastermind?”

“Oh, well,” you trailed off, uncertain of where to begin or how to begin. It seemed like Younghoon had something on his mind, too, and you didn't want to give him something else to hold onto. But when you looked over at him, there was a concentrated, concerned furrow in his brow; he was nowhere else but present with you.

You clasped the back of your neck and felt the knot in your muscles. “There's this thing.”

“Mhm.”

“Colloquially, it's referred to as the Space Gala, but it's kind of just an evening prepared by the Space Grant Consortium with a bunch of booths and a Q&A panel—things like that.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Wow, a whole consortium?”

“Yup.” You'd been a member of the student club associated with the consortium since freshman year, not just to keep up to date with information about the space grant, but because you enjoyed attending the events and learning about new innovations related to your desired field. “And it's a little formal where everyone dresses nicely to a degree, and each member can bring a plus one. Usually, Sakura comes with me, but something just came up for her that she can't avoid so—” You made a helpless gesture with your hands.

It was no fault of her own that she couldn't avoid the personal matter that came for her. You just needed to find someone to go with you now, but finding someone on such short notice was proving to be less than swift.

“Ah,” Younghoon said in understanding. “You'd like to attend with someone you're comfortable with because it's a large gathering of people, and—when is it?”

“Next Friday,” you grimaced.

He blinked. “Oh, wow.”

“Yeah.”

Younghoon pressed his lips together. “Hey, I mean, if you're looking for someone to go with—I dunno if you're comfortable with me compared to your closer friends—and I don't want to seem as if I'm inviting myself, but—”

“Younghoon,” you cut in with the knots in your neck and shoulders suddenly dissipating. You pressed your hands together, touching them to your lips. “Would you like to go to the Space Gala with me?”

The most beautiful smile blossomed onto his face then, and you swore to go it was warmer than the sun's beams. For a second, his cheekbones darkened with something bashful, but it was hidden in the blink of an eye, and you were met again with the charming Younghoon you knew well. “Why, there's nothing I would love to do more.”

“You are a lifesaver.”

“Aw, don’t worry about it,” he laughed. “I'm happy to go with you, Yn. I mean, what does Sakura usually do to help you when you're in crowded places?”

Hold my hand. That thought was immediately cast aside. That was probably far too much. You coughed, “Uhm, just—you know—stick around me. I get kind of overwhelmed when there are a lot of people around.”

“Overstimulation?” He offered sympathetically.

“I suppose that's the word I'm looking for.”

Younghoon nodded. “Okay. Hey, that's okay. You just tell me what I need to do to make you feel safe and I'll do it.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and you couldn't figure out the right words to express your gratitude. It was hard not to downplay your own misgivings; it took time to practice being patient with yourself. “Thanks, Hoon. I don't really… know what to say, but I really do appreciate it.”

“You don't have to say anything,” he said easily. “And I think, personally, I'm a great plus one.”

If only all of your troubles in life could be fixed so simply by Kim Younghoon being your plus one.

Your stroll together took you down toward the environmental science building. It was a path through a heavily forested area, though a little strange even being located somewhere south of the main campus. The paved sidewalk faded into a worn dirt path, and sunlight filtered in through the layers of leaves crisscrossing overhead.

“I've spilled my guts,” you piped up, “now what's on your mind?” You added swiftly, “If you're comfortable with sharing.”

Younghoon blew out an exhale from his mouth. “You know that job I mentioned? The one where I'm working with a youth theater program nearby?”

You nodded. “Yeah, how's that going, by the way?”

“I'm not sure,” he admitted with his mouth shifted to the side. “I had my first day with them on Wednesday, and I'm seeing them again today. I think I'm just nervous that they'll get bored of me.”

Ah, you could understand that. Surely your years helping out with your younger siblings could lend some use. It was rare to see Younghoon in this state of unease, and it was even more rare to think of someone who wouldn't like him. Seeing him troubled even a little made your stomach churn, and you wanted to help find a solution. “How old are they?”

“They’re all older primary school kids,” he said. “Young enough to not be scary middle schoolers and old enough to have some kind of attention span.”

You smiled to yourself. “Oh, I know exactly what you're talking about.”

“I knew you would.” He brightened. “You have younger siblings, don't you? Any chance one of them wants to become an actor?”

“Oh, hm,” you murmured, “Sadie's got her eyes set on ballet right now and I think Quincey's really only fascinated about his trains. They can be swayed though, I'm sure.”

“How do I keep a kid's interest though?”

You wish you had a formula for that. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. “To be so honest with you, kids just like learning about dangerous shit.”

Younghoon wheezed. “What?”

You grabbed his shoulder as you both stopped in the walkway so he would face you. “Listen—no, I'm being serious, Younghoon!” You were trying to get a hold of this man as if you weren't gradually losing it, too. “Do you know how many times my little brother has made his trains go boom?”

“Yn.”

“He has problems, I know; he's like, four and a half or something.”

Younghoon's eyes were filled with mirth as he pressed his knuckles against his mouth. “Yn, do you know how insane that sounds?”

Your eyes shuddered in a blink. “Huh?”

He grappled onto your shoulders with another wheeze, eyes moist with laughter and a twinge of something else you couldn't process. “Yn, are you free next Friday at three?”

“Yeah?”

“Come with me to see the kids?”

“Okay.”

His tongue ran over his teeth as he grinned. Younghoon's head dipped in a nod, and he dropped his hands to the side. You didn't know what the hell just happened, but you had a feeling a solution was very much found.

EPISODE FIVE: TO INFINITY & BEYOND

“PLEASE tell me you're leaving the medieval torture devices out of the discussion.”

You passed him a look from the passenger's side of Younghoon's Prius. (It was objectively hilarious to watch this man fold his long limbs up to get in and out of this car; you didn’t know how the laws of nature even allowed a human with his height to own and drive one of these things.) “You say that like you were sure I wasn't.”

It was currently the Friday following, and the day you and Younghoon would both be each other's plus ones. Presently, you were in his car as he drove you both over to the elementary school where he was part-timing. Once this class was over, you would split off to prepare for tonight's Space Gala before meeting again at the venue on campus.

He turned his signal on as he pulled into the parking lot. “I'm just making sure.” He glanced over at you. “Are you excited?”

“To have about two dozen pairs of eyes on me?” You had faced crowds before and they weren't your forte, but you supposed if they were all bite-sized people this time, it wouldn't be so bad. Plus, Younghoon said they would be sitting down and working in groups most of the time anyways. The appeal of this crowd was that you didn't have to worry about getting swept up.

“They're all nice kids,” he said as if consoling you. “It'll be fun!”

“But I can talk about the trebuchet, right?” You asked after he parked and you were clambering out of the car. That one time you went down a fascinating rabbithole of medieval machinery was about to come in handy.

Younghoon paused with his hand on the top of his door. “That wasn't the one with the horse-pulling, was it?”

“Oh, definitely not.”

He locked the door and the two of you began walking side by side to cross the parking lot. There was a plastic clipboard in his hand made of a material in a shade of translucent neon green, something you expected a PE teacher would carry around, except this clipboard was armed with scripts and instructor notes. The little drama program at this school was currently only an after-school occurrence, but if this all went well, they might be granted permission from the school to start integrating it into everyday classes. It was exciting—you could remember your first years of exposure to things like liquid nitrogen ice cream, egg drop competitions, and the National Geographic issue called Astronauts. Perhaps in another life you would've been an astronaut, rather than the engineer who designed the vessel that would take them into space.

Needless to say, these were some of their most impressionable years, and Younghoon was going to be a big part of these kids’. It made you warm and fuzzy inside.

Sometime between today and last week, Younghoon brought you up to speed on what the kids were currently working on. The head instructor picked out something from an adapted version of How to Train Your Dragon, which in all honesty, was cool as fuck. Immediately, thoughts about how to build a harness apparatus for an actual dragon model came to your mind, but you would need to take a look at the dimensions of the stage and preferably leave flamethrowers out of the end result. That was if you were allowed to or even had the time to.

It would be fun though. Of course it was going to be fun.

Younghoon was the first one to enter the auditorium room. It was a multipurpose building with a large, open concept space lined in carpet with a stage at the furthest end and the doors to the library across the way. With the impending introduction, you stuck behind your friend as he poked his head in. Instant squeals of delight erupted at the sight of him. (He was kidding when he said he was worried about the kids ever getting bored of him, right?) “Younghoon!”

Younghoon’s smile was so big that you could see it even when his face was half turned. “Hi everyone—I brought a friend today. Let’s give her a nice, warm welcome, hm?” Younghoon stepped completely into the room now, his hand coming over to gently sweep you in with him by your shoulder. “This is Yn.”

You raised your hand in a small, awkward wave, a greeting somehow managing to come out of your mouth. There were so many little ones present and they were all sitting in a misshapen blob in the middle of the carpet, their backpacks lined up against one of the side walls. Interacting with children who weren’t your siblings or relatives was a lot different.

“Oh my gosh,” you heard one of them gasp. “Is she his partner?”

“No, she is not my partner—she’s a friend,” Younghoon replied pointedly. “Boys and girls can be friends, Roni.”

There was a boy with a gray colored Lightning McQueen jacket on who said, “That’s exactly what my brother said before he asked his best friend to be boyfriend-girlfriend.”

Well. You angled your head toward your counterpart and murmured to him, “How old did you say these kids were?”

“Now you know why I needed your help,” he joked. “Their brains run too fast.”

“And you think the two of ours can measure up?”

Another small one—she had her dark hair in twin pigtails, knotted off with bows—raised her hand. “Are you an actor like Younghoon?”

“Me?” You pointed at yourself as if there was someone else she could’ve been asking. “Oh, no, I don’t have the skillset to be an actor,” you mused. “I basically make airplanes and rockets.” Basically.

A flurry of excitement kicked up like a snowstorm, and you could feel your skin warm at the sudden increase in energy. Perhaps you should have led with that..? But even so, it was abrupt, and you didn’t quite know what to do with yourself—

Younghoon cleared his throat, “Hey guys, let’s keep our noise level down, please.”

In response to his request, the kids miraculously managed to quiet themselves down to a buzzing chatter. It hit you at that moment; Younghoon wasn’t just good with kids—he was incredible. Why did he ever think he needed your help when you could barely stutter out a sentence about what you did instead of acting?

“I told Yn about the show we’re putting on,” he said with everyone’s attention now settled on him, including yours, “and she was very excited about seeing it.”

“Is she gonna make us fly?” Someone asked with their eyes wide and big, and you swore you could fit the whole Milky Way within the awe that was in their irises. Kids, man.

“Only if you guys do good today,” Younghoon said. “Why don’t we break off into groups and show Miss Yn what we’ve been practicing, hm?”

You managed to pick out the Star Trek theme over the volume of your hair dryer, and swore loudly as you cut the device off and scurried into your room to find your phone. “Hello?” You answered as you brought your phone back with you into the bathroom.

“Hey,” answered Younghoon, “I was thinking of just picking you up to go to the thing tonight instead of just meeting there.”

It was approximately two hours since you and Younghoon departed from the elementary school. You were back at your apartment now, attempting to get your bearings and clean yourself up for the evening's festivities.

You could feel the gears turning in your head as you weighed your options. “I mean—only if it’s convenient.”

“Okay, I’ll be by at say… 7?”

“Sounds good,” you replied as you finished up styling your hair. Though nicknamed the Space Gala, it wasn’t meant to be incredibly formal like dinner jackets and evening gowns—nice shirts, ironed pants and skirts, and non-sneakers or non-sandals would do fine. “Thanks, Hoon.”

“Mhm!” He chirped to the accompaniment of rustling in the background.

“Also—” You grabbed your phone and flicked the bathroom light off. As you were making your way back into your bedroom, you saw Sakura peer out through her open doorway with curious eyes like that of a cat. She wagged her eyebrows at you knowingly and you shooed at her playfully. “Kim Younghoon, you are such a liar!”

His laugh was sincere and bright. “Technically, I never lied.”

“You are great with kids.”

“Being good with kids is a subjective quality, my friend,” he replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Besides, you did great with them, too. They loved you.”

You pursed your lips in a sad, silly attempt to stay petty, but you couldn’t deny that you had a nice time with him and his students this afternoon. Once the initial jitters subsided, you loosened up a considerable amount. Adults oftentimes underestimated how perceptive kids were, but you had a feeling that they caught onto what made you feel overwhelmed pretty quickly. At least, most of the groups you were working with did.

But… you had fun. That was all that mattered in the end. You would enjoy going back to see them again. You kicked your door closed with your foot. “I had a good time,” you replied at last. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Yeah, of course. It was really fun having you there with me—us.”

You both paused on either end of the phone as the conversation reached a natural lull point. As you fitted on the freshly-steamed blouse you planned to wear tonight, you caught the time at the top of your phone screen. “Uh… so I’ll see you in about twenty minutes then?”

Shuffling from his end, and then, “Yep—twenty minutes! See you in a bit, Yn-ah.”

“Bye, Hoon!”

Twenty minutes flew by faster than 299,000,000 meters per second—at least, to you. One moment, you were ducking into the passenger side seat of Younghoon’s Prius, and the next, the two of you were being admitted in through the doors of the annual Space Gala. The usual “venue” that the consortium booked for this event was one of the campus’s main buildings that housed three large lecture rooms on the first floor, as well as two lecture halls on the second floor across from another large event space.

The lobby was filled with a crush of people, with some faces you recognized and others that you didn't. There were tables draped over with black cloth that hosted educational mini games where one could win free button pins and stickers, booths with companies associated with the consortium present to pitch potential internships, and everything in between. Younghoon stuck to your side like glue. You felt the warmth of his hand either between your shoulder blades or on one of your shoulders as the two of you maneuvered your way through the crowd.

It wasn’t until you hit the farther end of the lobby where there was a clearing of people that you felt the pressure in your sternum alleviate. You imagined your gaze appeared a little empty, glassy even, but it was all just an overwhelming wave of sensations on all ends.

“How’re you feeling?” You heard Younghoon’s voice close to your ear so you could hear him but anyone else around you couldn’t.

You focused on that—his voice. “I’m fine,” you assured him with a small smile. “I’m excited to be here and it’s just a lot.”

Younghoon smiled back at you and you felt his palm warm little circles on your back. “Take your time. The guy at the front says it’ll be another half hour until we can expect the panel to start.”

“Kkura and I—we, uh, usually go in a little earlier than everyone else.” Depending on the year, you and Sakura either occupied seats in the front couple of rows or one of the balcony seats. The former was to distract you from the idea of several hundred other people being in the room behind you, whereas the latter was so you had a large space between you and the crowd. Both were methods that you and your friend deduced were the best at soothing any feelings of overwhelm.

He nodded. “Okay, yeah, we can still do that. Are there any tables you wanna visit before we go in?”

“Actually,” you said, and your heart leapt at the memory of one booth you visited every year, “I have to show you this one thing—it’s so neat. It might be on the other side of the lobby, but we can cut upstairs and get to it that way.” Where there was a will, there was most definitely a way.

Younghoon’s expression mirrored the excitement in yours. “Lead on, Yn-ah,” he chuckled and let you grab his hand to show him why you loved what you did.

This year was dubbed a balcony year.

From yours and Younghoon’s perch up in the balcony rows, you could peer down at the hundreds of heads below, as well as the presentations given onstage. You were always blown away by the new information and possibilities brought up during the year’s presentations, as well as during the question and answer section where audience members could either line up to ask the panelists their queries directly or send them anonymously to an online platform.

Your preferred method was most definitely the latter because public speaking was not your forte, even though it meant you would have less probability for your questions to be answered. One year, Kkura had practically escorted you up to a panelist when everyone was leaving because you had a burning question.

But this year was different. All of your awe was coupled with the amount of marvel expressed by your partner for the evening. If you were fascinated by what was being discussed below, then Younghoon just entered a whole new galaxy.

You found yourself glancing over at him the whole night to watch his reaction. Periodically, your eyes would meet, and you might have been embarrassed to be caught looking at him, but it was completely dashed away by the pure reverence that was stark on his face.

At some point, the evening did have to come to an end, and you and Younghoon lingered up in the balcony to let everyone else below you trickle out first.

“That,” Younghoon whistled low, “was incredible. I’m so—” He made unintelligible hand gestures before coming up with a word, “—bedazzled. I’m positively bedazzled.”

You grinned. “I’m very pleased to hear that you’re bedazzled.”

“I mean, why don’t we hear about this on the news?” He queried, eyebrows knitted together in disbelief. He reached up to adjust the wiggly star headband on top of his head that he won from a spin-the-wheel stall earlier. “If they talked about finding organic chemicals on faraway planets on the evening news, viewership from my devices would skyrocket for them.”

“Don’t we all wish they talked about space on the news,” you sighed as you leaned your cheek against your fist. “But also, as Dr. Cho mentioned, we can’t get too excited yet. Organic chemicals for us might not mean organic chemicals for an alien species.”

Younghoon nodded slowly. “Right,” he drawled. “That’s so interesting to think about… that we’re possibly not alone and that they could either be very similar to us or very different, or maybe even somewhere in between.”

“Isn’t it crazy?” You couldn’t count the amount of times you got lost in a rabbithole of research when you were supposed to be working on assignments instead. Your eyes darted down to the lower levels to check the population density, and garnered that you could still wait at least a couple minutes more. “Hey, you know, if you're interested in this stuff, then you should come to some of the planetarium’s presentation nights sometime.”

Your counterpart’s eyes widened like the lens of a telescope. “We have a planetarium?”

You giggled. “Yeah, silly. What did you think the astronomy tower was for?”

“We have an astronomy tower?”

You smiled wide against your knuckles as you nodded. “Maybe you should wander down by the engineering buildings more often.”

Younghoon made an incredulous face. “Maybe I should.” He considered something for a moment and you watched the smile blossom onto his face again. “Though, I have a feeling that if I looked into a telescope, I'd only see you—’cause you're a star.”

“That was awful,” you snorted into your hand, shaking your head.

“Not my best work,” he admitted. He could admit defeat when he was met by it, but he wouldn't let it hinder his efforts. “You know, I think Galileo was wrong.”

“How so?” You asked as you motioned for the two of you to start gathering your things.

“You're the center of my universe.”

You were pretty sure the lower levels could hear your laugh echo against the walls. “Oh my god.”

“Or maybe that just makes you the sun,” he said to you in a singsong tone while trailing after you.

“I’m walking home, Younghoon.”

“You can try, sunshine.”

EPISODE SIX: THE ONE WHERE IT GETS WORSE

MURPHY'S Law stated that “anything that can go wrong will go wrong,” with an adage of “at the worst possible time.” You needed to have words with this Murphy.

You were now in the thralls of midterm season. It was common knowledge and experience among STEM students that once midterm season began, it didn't stop until finals hit. You hadn't even realized how fast midterms had arrived until it was pouncing on you like a predator in the brush. You were currently being torn apart by the jaws of a hungry lion called Life.

“I haven't finished the grant app, Kkura.” You stared at the white wall behind your desk with a blank glaze over your eyeballs. There were sticky notes and pieces of paper tacked there with reminders and diagrams like they were makeshift whiteboards, but you weren't looking at them.

“My aerothermo exam is in two days,” you continued on in a droning voice, “and the internship interview is the day after.”

You spun around in your chair to face where Sakura was perched crisscrossed on your bed with a sympathetic frown. The internship addition was a new one. You had sent in your application a couple months ago, and results of applicants who had passed to the interview phase were only recently released. While you were relieved beyond measure that you made it, the interview couldn't have come at a worse time.

“Well,” she began, “we already decided that I'm going to help you prepare for the interview, Yn. The grant app isn't due for another month. All you need to worry about right now is the aerothermo exam, right?”

When she put it that way… “You're right,” you sighed and lifted your hands up to dig the heels of your palm into your eyes. Sometimes it just took an outside perspective to knock a little logic into you.

The Star Trek theme song blared from your phone, and you both startled at the abruptness. You fumbled for the device, then quickly picked up the phone call when you saw that it was from your mom. “Hi, mom. Everything okay?”

“Your brother can't make it to the wedding.”

You made a face. “I'm guessing you don't mean Quincey…”

You could imagine the exasperation on your mom's face from the other side of the phone. “Yn, I call you because you're the logical one in the family.”

If only she knew what pain you were putting yourself through because of your current lack of sense. You leaned back in your chair, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Why can't Justin make it?” Justin was your eldest brother who had the divine French toast recipe.

“He's flying to Paris for his culinary school interview. You know I always tell that boy to double check his schedules—he never listens,” your mom exhaled sharply. You could hear the loud clatter of the dryer in the background; she must be doing laundry.

“Sounds like Justin,” you murmured. “So what's the problem? Can't we just go sans Justin?”

“We already RSVP'd with the seven of us, and your cousin already paid for the reception meal in full. We can't have an empty, wasted seat, Yn-ah.”

You frowned. You supposed that would be a problem then. “Why don't we just find someone to bring along as a plus-one?”

“That's what I was thinking,” she replied. “I was going to invite Rian, you know, the boy from next door.”

Somehow, your mood managed to sour further. You and Sakura made eye contact, and she tilted her head to the side in question. You gave her an emphatic thumb's down before replying to your mom, “Wait—can we—mom, can we not invite Rian?” You dragged your free hand down the side of your face, and you saw Sakura grimace when you said that guy's name.

“Why not?”

“Be… because,” you stammered, pushing out a sigh when you weren't sure how to describe your incredible disdain for your childhood next-door neighbor. He was your age, and fortunately, you were never matchmade with him. Unfortunately, he was a jerk with inferiority issues and delighted in competing with you in everything. “He wouldn't want to come with,” you said lamely. His presence would do the exact opposite of soothing your anxiety.

Sakura gestured with her hands. Tell her he's full of shit!

Oh, you wished.

“Yn.” Your mother could smell lies, even through the phone. “I wouldn't know who else to invite.”

“Daphne's partner!” You exclaimed desperately. Daphne was your older sister who attended another college on the other side of the city getting her master's degree. “Can't we invite Sam?”

“Sam's in Vietnam in December.”

“Goddamn it.”

“Yn.”

“Sorry.” Dear fuck, you were slipping. You needed a solution—anything at all. Something to put out one fire, even temporarily. “What if I came up with a plus one?” You regretted it immediately.

“Oh, like Sakura? I wouldn't mind if you brought her.”

Anyone but Rian, anyone but Rian. “Yeah,” you drawled. “That's who I had in mind.” You lifted your head to meet your friend's eyes again, and she knitted her brows in confusion. You mouthed that you would tell her in a moment.

When you and your mom hung up, you deflated in your chair, dropping your phone onto your chest. “I'm fucked.”

“Hit me with it.”

“I told her I would bring you to the wedding with us.”

Sakura sat there for a moment to process the information. “Yn, honey, I'm going to be in Japan in December.”

“I know,” you cried.

“Who are you bringing then?”

“I don't know.”

Murphy of Murphy's Law had better sleep with one eye open.

It was likely in your worst interest to be at the convenience store at midnight rather than in your bed asleep, attempting to let your brain process the concepts from your aerothermodynamics course. Against your better judgment, though, you were here, slumped over your usual table and seat as you watched YouTube and sipped on a box of chocolate milk.

In the distance, the door opened and closed, but the sound was muffled through your earbuds. Out of your peripherals, someone materialized next to you. You peered up at the tall man beside you now, blocking out the fluorescent LEDs from burning your eyes. “Hey,” you said quietly.

Younghoon took in your state with sad eyes. “I got your text.”

“I didn't think you'd be awake.” Didn't he have a rehearsal tomorrow morning? Or rather, later this morning.

“Well, I'm glad I was awake, for starters.” He frowned and then leaned over you to gently wrap you up in his arms. “Rough night?”

Your face was buried in the fabric of his hoodie. This was nice. “Rough everything.”

“Ah, one of those,” he sympathized. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really. Thank you for coming though.” You leaned back and patted the empty seat next to you. “Wanna watch squirrels with me?”

You watched his expression falter and fill with surprised amusement with a pinch of confusion. “Did you—you just said squirrels, right?”

“Yeah, they're competing in a backyard Olympics for this trophy of walnuts.”

He sat down with you to watch the squirrels. In your free time, you liked watching engineering or science-type videos on the internet. Most of them were as educational as they were entertaining, like the backyard squirrel series, where this man used his mechanical engineering degree to build advanced obstacles to test and observe the vast capabilities of the squirrel.

You shared your earbud with Younghoon so he could listen, and you were now connected by a wire. He mimicked your position, too, with his chin nestled onto his folded arms over the tabletop.

You weren't sure what possessed him to drive all the way over here at such an ungodly hour of night, but you were grateful for his company, nonetheless. Even if it felt like the sky was falling, you could let this moment in time exist outside the conventional timeline. It could be its own singular moment, just you and Younghoon.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered how it all came back to this. You'd never thought you were meant to see him again after tutoring him, let alone having spent so much time with him again these past few weeks. If you didn't belong in his world, and vice versa, then what was this?

You swore the monotonous buzzing from the lights above was making your eyelids slowly fall with the weight of lead.

Younghoon's eyes fluttered over to you just as you were about to doze off. He sat up and turned the video off. “Hey,” he whispered, gently shaking your arm.

You hummed, the bags under your eyes becoming worse by the second. “Huh?”

He chuckled under his breath as you put your head back down. “We can watch this another day,” he promised, patting your head. “We should get you home though so you can sleep.”

“Oh my gosh,” you groaned and picked yourself up, “you have rehearsal tomorrow morning—what time is it?”

“Hey, don't worry about it, love.” He was wrapping your earbud wire around his fingers into a neat, little bundle. “I'll be fine. Let's go home, though, yeah?”

You pressed your palms to your eyes in a desperate attempt to rehydrate them. “Okay, yeah. Sorry, Hoon.”

“Don't say sorry,” he cooed, pressing your earbuds into the palm of your hand and tucking your phone into your pocket. “I felt a lot better meeting you here. Do you feel a little better?”

You gave a small nod. Your brain was too muddled, too exhausted, to really comprehend what was being expressed as plain as the sun at high noon on his face.

“Then that's all that matters.” There was a pause. Your vision was blurry for the second that his eyes wandered somewhere else. You didn't know if you just didn't see it or if you just chose to not acknowledge it.

Then the moment passed, as all things did in the flow of nature, and he walked you home.

EPISODE SEVEN: PARTY PEOPLE (BBANGNYU'S VERSION)

“CHANHEE?”

Choi Chanhee swirled the straw of his melted iced americano around in its cup. “Yup.”

“Who would you invite to a wedding?” You posed, twirling around the mechanical pencil in your hand between your fingers. You didn't even know why you still had the writing utensil out—everyone had pretty much gone home for the evening.

He released a sigh indicative of a very tired data science major, who doubled-majored in math. “The person I'm marrying? I dunno.”

You and Chanhee were stuck with the late shift at the math tutoring center on a Monday night. The crowd usually cleared out by nine o'clock, but the two of you weren't technically allowed to leave until nine-thirty. Most nights when you were stuck with this shift, you and he didn't mind the quiet in order to finish assignments of your own.

Jungwoo would have been here to suffer with you, too, but he had an excuse tonight. Something about an emergency at the NCT fraternity house.

You blew a puff of air through your mouth. “Not your wedding; just a wedding. One that you're invited to.”

“You're not inviting me, are you?”

“You don't wanna be my plus one for a wedding?” You grinned.

“Depends…” He hummed pleasantly, “what're they serving?” That was a valid question that you lacked an answer to.

In front of you on your laptop screen sat your incomplete space grant application. After the hell that was last week, you somehow survived it by the seat of your pants. Now, you needed to focus on your two other exams for this week, the wedding debacle, this grant app, and praying that the interview had gone as well as you thought it had.

So many things to think about, so little brain cells.

You glanced over at the corner of your laptop screen to see how much time you had left to try and be productive. From the corner of your eye, you saw the swift movements of Chanhee's thumbs flying over his phone keyboard.

You turned to your application to read over your responses for the ten thousandth time. “Who've you been texting all night, Chanhee?”

“Huh? Oh, my best friend.”

You hummed. “The one that goes to the uni across the country, right?”

His response was cut off by the sound of the tutoring center doors opening. Both of you looked up in tandem, mentally bracing yourselves for—

“Younghoon?”

There was a weird fluttery feeling in your chest as he beamed at the both of you and bounded over from the front doors. “Hey guys! I was just walking past and thought I would swing by.”

Chanhee's eyebrows flew all the way up to his pink hairline. “Yes, because it makes complete sense why you would be meandering around south campus at nine o'clock at night,” he quipped.

Younghoon seemed, to his credit, unbothered by Chanhee pointing out the obvious. He stole one of the chairs from another table and sat down across from you and Chanhee. “You guys don't play any music when everyone's gone?”

“Sometimes we do,” you replied, glancing up from your computer screen before replacing your word choice somewhere.

Chanhee nodded his agreement as he set his phone down on the table and laced his fingers under his chin. “Oh, Younghoon-ah, I've been meaning to discuss something with you.”

Younghoon perked up. “What's up?”

“What're we gonna do about your friend and my friend?”

You figured out pretty quickly that you had no idea what they were talking about. Even after having played Monopoly with some of them a few weeks ago, it still hadn't hit you as to the full-scale of these two guys’ shared social circles. Sure, you orbited some friend groups of a decent size, but it felt like they all hung out with each other at least once a week.

“Ah,” Younghoon drawled with a knowing sparkle in his eyes, “Jacob and JC!Yn, right? I don't know; I find it kind of amusing.”

Chanhee frowned. A furrow had formed between his brows. “If amusing means to the extent where I'd like to rip my hair out, that is. Did you know that Jacob sent me to go intervene when Jaehyun was talking to JC!Yn at the hot tub?”

“Wait, really?”

“Mhm.” Chanhee made a vague flourish with his wrist in the air. “And did you see how they were at the movie night on Saturday?”

Younghoon pressed his lips together. “I did see that. He kept looking over when Juyeon was braiding her hair,” he chuckled.

“I am at odds, Younghoon-ah!” Chanhee groaned into his palms. “I just need them to kiss already and get it over with.”

“So you wanna meddle?”

“I'm not saying we should meddle, but…” He drawled with cheeky, puckered lips and his palms open upward. His gaze went to you on his right side, and he knocked the back of his knuckles against your arm. “Oy, Yn-ah. What do you think?”

You hummed and drew your eyes up from your laptop screen, meeting Younghoon's gaze first. Glancing over to the friend who addressed you, you said, “What are we talking about?”

“Girl, you need to get off that grant app.”

“This grant app needs to get off me,” you shot back. “I need it to be perfect, Chanhee.”

“Nothing is perfect, Yn,” he told you. “You know what you should do? You should ask JC!Yn to look over it. That might ease your mind.”

“I'll think about it,” you said at last in order to appease him. The smart thing would've been to heed his advice and ask his friend to proofread it. Perhaps you would later this week.

“Good. Anyways, I was asking you what you thought about how to matchmake our two friends,” resumed Chanhee. He tucked his limbs inward as he spun around in his chair.

“You’re going to have to give me more context than that.” Besides that, were you really the best option to ask for advice? You weren't in a relationship, and now that you thought about it, neither were the two of them.

You saw Chanhee and Younghoon exchange glances and there seemed to be a silent conversation taking place between the two of them. At last, Younghoon gave his counterpart a flourishing gesture with his hand as if saying 'all yours.’ Chanhee cleared his throat. “So Younghoon's friend Kevin, who is Jacob's best friend, introduced JC!Yn to Jacob.”

“And we're pretty sure they like each other,” Younghoon added on. “There was this pool party a couple weekends ago, and they came to the party together. This past weekend, they looked pretty cozy at the movie night that Jacob and Kevin hosted at their apartment, too.”

You had only ever met JC!Yn once in passing, and it was because Chanhee forgot his calculator at the library right before an exam, and she had been the champion to deliver it to him in the examination hall lobby. She was a real one, that was for sure.

You pursed your lips and rested your chin on your fist. “Aren't all of you guys single?” Was what you led with.

Chanhee deadpanned. “That's not the point…”

“I do have to point that out though because you ask me like I would know what to do,” you laughed, vaguely gesturing back to yourself. “I'm just as single as the rest of you.”

The two boys’ eyes whipped back to one another for a millisecond, before looking away.

You nearly leapt to your feet, exclaiming, “I saw that! What was that?”

“Nothing,” they answered at once. They did realize it made them look all the more conspicuous, right?

“We just realized that not all of us are single,” Younghoon raced to smooth over his and Chanhee's fib. “My friend Sangyeon—”

Chanhee snorted, “Hyunjae told me he doesn't believe him.”

“And you believe Hyunjae?”

“Touché.”

You unconsciously began spinning your pencil around your fingers again. “Wait, so Sangyeon is cuffed?”

Younghoon turned to you to explain. Apparently, his original group of friends that didn't include Chanhee's extension, kept a running joke that Sangyeon was either making up his girlfriend or was keeping her stashed on a secret island in the Bahamas. None of them had seen any evidence that she truly existed, but Younghoon wasn't convinced that Sangyeon was the type of person to go through all of this strife just to prove a point.

After all of that, you were more confused than before. “But why wouldn't he just show you a picture of her and prove that he met this girl?”

“That's what I'm saying,” Chanhee interjected, flinging his arms up in the air. “It would be so easy to just silence us with a little picture!”

Younghoon, clearly amused by the discourse taking place, leaned back in his chair with a shrug. “Beats me. I personally think it's because she works for a secret government agency, which is why she can't exist online.”

Chanhee's expression flattened. “Uh-huh.”

“But Juyeon says that it's probably because if he only shows a picture, we might accuse him of Photoshop,” Younghoon continued. “Which, in retrospect, says a lot about his faith in us.”

You made a face, your eyebrows arching high. “Oh, for sure.”

Debating on conspiracy theories about mystery girlfriends made the last thirty minutes of yours and Chanhee's shift fly by fast. Suffice to say, you hadn’t worked on your application nearly as much as you wanted to, but you were entertained for thirty minutes, which was just as well. Didn’t doctors say that it was good to laugh at least three times a day…? Good thing you weren’t going into medicine.

The three of you started packing everything up at exactly nine-thirty. There was no reason to stay any longer when there was literally no one else here anyway.

As you shoved your laptop into your backpack, Younghoon knocked on the table in front of you. “Wanna grab dinner after this?”

You opened your mouth to reply when Chanhee beat you to it. He hadn’t seen Younghoon grab your attention, and didn’t know who he was addressing. “Oh, that’s nice of you to as—”

“I meant Yn.”

You closed your eyes and sank your teeth into your bottom lip to have some dignity left (read: not start wheezing). Chanhee’s eyes had gone wide, eyebrows rocketing back up to his hairline. He scoffed, “Wow.”

Younghoon grinned cheekily. “Sorry, Chanhee. We have a routine.”

With Chanhee now thoroughly offended, your little trio filed out of the tutoring center. You locked the doors up behind you once you flicked off all the lights in the room. The walk down in south campus was arguably nicer than north campus, even if you were a little biased because this was where you considered your “turf” to be. South campus was much better illuminated than north campus with pretty, little lamp posts and five different styles of architecture from building to building. You were sure it was an eyesore to any of the architecture majors here, but they were interesting to look at when you were suffering in the engineering library. (And at least they had windows.)

You took up the position in between Younghoon and Chanhee, the latter of whom seemed to let his pettiness about the rejected dinner date go.

“Guys,” Younghoon suddenly said. The corner of his lips were turned upward in a degree you could only define as mischievous. “What is the most terrifying word in physics?”

You scrunched your brows together. There was no way you should get this wrong, but then again, physics wasn't exactly a subject where anyone got everything right—

“Oops.”

You snorted, and beside you, Chanhee's lip wobbled as he desperately held in a reaction. You couldn't believe you didn't see this coming and tried to think about it logically.

Younghoon shoved his hands in his pockets and swiped his tongue over his lower lip through a smile. “Aw, come on! I cracked up when I heard that one in a TikTok for the first time.”

“I've just heard some of your better ones,” you confessed. “Chanhee, did I tell you that Younghoon used to wax poetic to study for calc?”

Chanhee's mouth curled up into an amused little smile. “You did! I think it's cute.”

“You know, I think it's cute, too.”

In the dim lighting from the nearby lamp posts, Younghoon's cheekbones flushed something rosy. “You flatter me.”

As the three of you climbed up the stairs that would bring you to main campus, Chanhee piped up, “What if we just slipped Jacob and JC!Yn notes from the other person?”

You shook your head. “Not this again.”

“I'm serious!” He said in earnest. “It would just be innocent, little pick-up lines or something. Nothing like a whole ass confession.”

“We're reading Much Ado About Nothing in my Shakespeare lecture right now,” said Younghoon, “and the cast does something similar to one of the couples they're trying to get together. Sounds kind of fun, to be honest.”

“Not you, too!”

Younghoon slung an arm around your shoulders and flourished his free arm out toward the heavens. There was a pleasant feeling attached to the weight of his arm around you. “C’mon, use that mastermind brain of yours and imagine! Jacob's would just say something like—I dunno—if I whispered in thine ear that thou hast a body of beauty, wouldst thou hold it against me?”

“Wow,” you marveled, ignoring the amount of fluttering happening in your stomach, “that was pretty good.”

He flashed you a boyish smile. “Thank you.”

“But you're not doing it.”

The boys on either side of you released twin groans of anguish into the night, as if their mother had just denied them access to their Xbox for the evening. You rolled your eyes lightly. “I feel like relationships are like spontaneous processes—they’ll get to the right configuration eventually, organically. In other words, we should leave them be and let them figure it out for themselves.” You walked in front and turned around to face them so you could pin them both down with a firm look.

Younghoon raised his arms up in playful surrender. “Promise we won't meddle.”

“I hate when you use entropy statistics against me.” Chanhee gave a reluctant nod, sighing once again, “But I agree. We won’t meddle.”

EPISODE EIGHT: DON'T ASK ME THE COLOR OF ANYTHING

IT was the Star Trek theme song that blasted you out of your study bubble. In retrospect, the theme song was quite a subdued piece compared to something like the Star Wars theme, but for some reason you thought it was a good idea to turn the volume all the way up for your ringer whenever you were home. (God forbid you accidentally left it on when you were in class…) From your desk, you scooted over to grab your phone from where it was on your bed. Younghoon's caller ID beamed its cute smile up at you—the picture you'd set was of him and his dog from home, Bori. You had yet to meet Bori, but when you asked him for a picture for his contact photo, he sent this one.

You accepted the call. “Hello?”

“I just realized I pressed Call instead of Facetime. Please accept the Facetime thingy.”

Why did he sound so cute? You lifted the phone away from your ear and saw the request on the screen. While pressing the green accept button, you said to him, “What if I said no?”

“Then it must be Opposite Day,” he sang from the other side of the screen, his face manifesting before you. He was holding his phone up above him so you could see he was lying down in bed, his dark hair strewn over the pillow beneath his head. His initial smile widened to reach his eyes when your side of the screen loaded and he could see you. “There she is.”

“Hi Hoon,” you greeted with a small chuckle. You looked around your cluttered workspace for a place to prop your phone up against.

“What're you up to?” He asked while he adjusted himself to sit up against his headboard.

“I—” you made a sound of accomplishment as your phone stayed upright in the space between your desk lamp and a pebble paperweight painted like a rocket that your little sister made you, “—am brushing up on fluid mechanics.”

“Aah… fluid mechanics.” You could hear the slight intonation in his words.

“Don't say the joke.”

“I wasn't gonna say the joke!” He giggled. When he calmed, he pressed his mouth in a smile and made his cheeks look as squishy as a loaf of bread. “Is this a bad time though?”

You shook your head, slipping your pencil behind your ear so you could lace your fingers beneath your chin. “No, it’s not a bad time. This isn’t super important; I just didn’t want old material to jumpscare me when I go into our quiz this week.”

Younghoon nodded in understanding. “I see, I see. That means it’s good that I interrupted your workaholic tendencies.”

You glanced away with your hand half covering your face, and it coaxed a laugh from him that seemed to warm the room. You sputtered, “In my defense—” you paused, your lips parted; it hit you then that you had no defense.

His eyes were the shapes of upturned crescent moons, like shallow bowls filled with mirth. “It’s cute when you try to deny it.”

“It’s not denial—I didn’t deny it,” you pointed out.

“Uh-huh,” he snorted, completely unconvinced, “whatever you say, Miss Mastermind. I should call you Miss Workaholic instead.”

“Aish,” you chided weakly. You glanced down at the old notes that were splayed out before you on your desk. All of the concepts were relatively familiar to you; it was just to refresh yourself. To be frank, though, it wasn’t like you’d spent all evening reviewing old material. Every thirty minutes or so, you could spend another half hour on your phone, getting lost in the entertainment there. You weren’t that much of a workaholic.

You realized that there had been a pregnant moment of silence just then, and when you looked back over at the phone screen, found him watching you with a certain look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. You cleared your throat, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear and to take the pencil there down. “So, uhm, any reason in particular for calling?”

His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked, as if snapping out of a daze. “Hm? Oh, not really. I just wanted to see what you were up to.” He cocked his head to the side in thought. “Random question, but are you doing anything for Halloween?”

Ah, you nearly forgot that was coming up. With all of the chaos happening in your life at the moment, Halloween was the last thing on your mind.

“Not at the moment,” you told him. You mused, “I don’t think I’ve done anything proper for Halloween since I moved out of my childhood house.” Going Trick-or-Treating as an adolescent was definitely a core memory for you, and was still a prevalent tradition in your household because of the little ones, Sadie and Quincey. As you got older, however, you usually opted to stay at home and answer the door to hand out candy. You still dressed up for the fun of it, and decorating the house was always half the joy of the holiday. You always considered trying to build some kind of candy contraption or maybe setting up a haunted maze in the front lawn, but alas, maybe in the future. “What about you?”

“Well, there’s that party that Changmin and Chanhee are hosting at their place.”

That rang a bell. “Ohh, shit. I totally forgot about that.” Chanhee had mentioned something about that the other night at the tutoring center, but you didn’t make any promises about attending—he knew your crowd preferences, so he didn’t push it. You were sure his and his friend’s parties were a blast though.

Younghoon shifted his lounging position, so now he was laying on his stomach with his legs kicking up from behind him. “Would you wanna come with? I remember that you went to that party with Sakura in September, but I wasn’t sure if you were going to come to this one.”

You tapped the end of your pencil against the pages of your notebook. “I’m not really sure,” you confessed. “I think I originally didn’t plan on going.”

“Ah.”

Guilt swirled around in the pit of your stomach at the disappointment in his voice. “I’m sorry; I probably sound like such a party pooper.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” he rushed to assure you. “I get that it might not be something you’re into, and that’s completely fine, you know? I think it would be fun to go with you, but not if you wouldn’t have fun there.”

You inhaled deeply. “I mean… it’s not that I don’t think I would have fun once I—y’know, drank something—but yeah, I think a night of just horror movies or something will do me better.”

He nodded and carded a hand through his hair. “Of course; I understand. And your schedule’s been pretty packed lately, so it’ll be like a little break for you,” he offered.

“Yeah, thanks, Hoon.” You shot him a small smile. It was really cool that he was being so understanding, but you shouldn’t have anticipated anything less from Kim Younghoon. He’d always been this cool.

You learned to read the room, and the energy definitely was lower than before. “Do you know what you’re gonna go dressed as?” You asked in hopes of bringing that energy back up.

He perked up a bit at the question. “I—actually, I have no idea,” he chuckled. “I was thinking a vampire, but I feel like that should just be saved as my backup. That idea’s a little tired.”

Younghoon as a vampire—? Wake up, Yn. You laughed to yourself as a thought popped into your head. “It would be so funny if you showed up as Bill Nye the Science Guy.”

He snorted. “That's not a bad idea. I'm not a science guy, but I am an actor.”

“Hey, there you go,” you said. You pursed your lips. “Hm… I feel like your face is too pretty to fuck up—”

“Thanks?” He guffawed, hand propping his head up. “I'm scared to ask you what that even means.” You didn’t want to tell him exactly what you had in mind, but it seemed that he beat you to a punchline. “To be honest, I'd so let you fuck up my face.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Hyunjae? Hyunjae, is that you?” Younghoon called out behind him toward his closed bedroom door. His ears were rosy as blood, and he was biting his lip through a grin. “I've gotta go, Yn-ie. Byeee!”

“Younghoon, hey! Don't hang—”

He hung up. You took a moment to collect yourself after what he said, as if you could even begin to unpack its meaning.

You could hear the partygoers even from the relative serenity of the back corner of the convenience store. It was Halloween night, and when the sun sank down into the horizon to signal the coming of night, so too did it mark the beginning of the Hallow's Eve festivities.

You had just dropped Sakura off at one of her friends’ house for a party, and she would text you later when she was done. The plan tonight was originally to chill at home and watch scary movies, but you instead found yourself at your second home with your laptop playing The Nightmare Before Christmas. On your head sat a deep purple colored witch's hat on a headband, with glittery black tulle creating a skirt at its base. Even if you didn't dress up completely, you would still pop on a bit of holiday spirit.

With you was a 6-pack of Halloween themed mini cupcakes and a carton of strawberry milk. They would function as your popcorn for the movie and your candy for the night.

From beside you on the table, your phone buzzed. You could see the words diffuse rapidly onto your screen, your eyes snagging on the parts where your older sister was asking about Sakura coming to the wedding even though she was supposed to be in Japan. Your eyes widened as you scrambled to text back. Fuck, the wedding. You texted back a very fast, ‘uhm abt that.’

daphne: ykw don't tell me anything ignorance is bliss daphne: okay what i came here to do originally… daphne: *sent images* your phone: awwwh how cute!! wait wtf since when was quincey into power rangers 😭😭 daphne: dear god don't get me started

You laughed and sent her a final text back commenting about the pictures she sent of her, Sam, Sadie, and Quincey all dressed up to go Trick-or-Treating tonight. As usual, your family extended an invitation to you, but you declined for this year.

“Damn, I should've dressed up like the power rangers.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice right by your ear, and you ripped your earbud out, whipping around to see who it was. There was Younghoon, laughing at your expense with a very amused smile flitting over his face from your reaction.

About five different emotions passed over you at once, preventing you from coming up with an adequate response to his sudden appearance. Your mouth, frankly, had gone dry. His hair was colored and highlighted with strands of platinum silver, artfully arranged around a pair of black sunglasses atop his head. He was clad in all black—the leather jacket seated on his shoulders embellished with white detailing, and his skin glimmering with silver chains. He had on a pair of motorcycle gloves that he was now shucking off, and you realized his lips were a shade darker than they usually were—wait… were they moving?

“—Yn. Yn-iee—”

You blinked long and hard. “Yeah. I'm here.”

The corner of his lips curled upward. “I just said I was sorry for sneaking up on you.”

“Oh.” Wait, he smelled so good right now… Not that he didn't smell good every other day, but…

“Oh,” he parroted with a cock of his eyebrow. “So, what do you think?” He asked the question you didn't even realize you would fear him to ask, and gestured down to the outfit. Younghoon sighed and it sounded half like a laugh. “I feel ridiculous actually. Hyunjae was like—you should do the biker thing with me. And I was like, what do you mean 'biker thing?’ Apparently this is the biker thing.”

You were slapping yourself across the face internally to say something. “You went from Prius driver to motorcycle rider.”

Younghoon nearly keeled over and had to turn to the side to laugh. “I still am a Prius driver,” he said sheepishly.

Your eyes flickered up and down his form again, unable to string together words once more. “Uhm, your hair is silver.”

“Excellent observation.” He reached over and poked the little witch hat on top of your head. “This is cute, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you said with a smile, reaching up to touch either side of the headband. “I'm just here waiting for Kkura.”

“Oh, are you guys watching something together?”

You shook your head and turned back to your computer screen to wake it up. “No, I volunteered to be her chauffeur tonight. She's at a party right now, but I figured since I had time to kill, I could chill here.”

“It feels like a crime for you to be here all alone,” he said with one of his hands braced against the back of your chair and the other on the table next to your laptop. He was leaning over you now to peer at your screen because the brightness of the store lights made it difficult to see from where he stood, but it made him all the more apparent to your senses.

Goddamn, he was everywhere. “Well, I should be asking you as to why you're here,” you said with a cough. “Don't you have a party to go to, Biker Boy?”

He chuckled at the nickname and stood back up. “I do, but Chanhee and Changmin forgot to get triple A batteries for their battery-operated creepy candy bowl,” he said. “But I'm glad I was sent out to run an errand now.”

You shifted your mouth to the side in a sorry attempt to hide your contentment with that answer. “I'm glad, too. You—the costume looks good, by the way.”

Younghoon sat down in his usual seat across from you. “Thank you,” he replied, pleased. “I almost went out as a loaf of bread. Did you know Party City has these bread loaf costumes that you can wear around your head?”

“I'm not surprised at all,” you said, shaking your head in amusement.

You found yourself unhappy with the idea of Younghoon leaving after this. Once your conversation was over, you would go back to your movie and he would go back to his party. Before, you didn't mind the idea of having an evening to yourself, but with him right here in front of you, it was difficult to go back.

Him being here with you felt right. You couldn't explain why you felt that way. He looked like he was about to say something, and you rushed to beat him to it. “Want a cupcake?” You blurted. Before you could go back on your words, you gently pried a miniature cupcake out from its containment and offered it to him.

Younghoon lit up, delicately transferring the treat to his own hands. “I wasn't going to ask, but don't mind if I do. Thanks, Yn.”

You hummed happily as he peeled off the cupcake wrapper and took a generous bite. He did a little happy dance in his seat, and you smiled half into your fist as you leaned part of your cheek onto it.

“That's actually so good,” he said with wide, confused eyes as he reached toward the furthest end of the table for a napkin in the aluminum canister. “Why haven't I tried those before? I think I'm gonna have to take some back.”

“I don't have them often, but they are quite the guilty pleasure,” you agreed. “I would totally sponsor a couple packs for you to take to the party.”

Younghoon made a nodding motion with his head as he dabbed the napkin over his lips. He pulled the napkin away to inspect it, frowning. “Shit, I need to reapply,” he murmured and fished around in his jacket pocket for a tube of the shade that he had wiped off his lips.

Some force from the universe compelled you to do something fucking stupid. “I can help.” No, you can't! Why would you say that, why would you say—

Surprise flickered across his face. “Oh? Sure, I'd appreciate it,” he said, and held the lip gloss out to you. It was a muted brown-ish pink color that would leave a stain of itself upon the wearer's lips, but also had an initial glossy appearance.

With no room for backpedaling, you stood up and took the lip product from him. You stood before him now, between his legs with his hands resting on his knees.

He peered up at you through his dark lashes, lips parted gently.

You wiped the excess product off the doe foot applicator against the rim of the packaging, and then smeared the product over his bottom lip. You took your finger to smudge the color around, making quick work with a second layer for shine. When you were done, you hadn't even realized you'd been holding your breath the whole time. You passed the lip product back to him quietly. “All done,” you whispered.

He didn't even look at your handiwork—he didn't need to. He smiled; you thought you saw him steal a glance at some place other than your eyes. “Thanks, love.”

You were right before when you thought you would dread him leaving. He did go, at some point, after retrieving what he had come here for along with at least three half-dozen containers of cupcakes. He sent you a wave from the door, and then he was gone into the night.

You sat there without doing much or thinking anything for a moment or two, your fingertips stained with the color of his lips.

Regret wormed a hole through your stomach, and it felt like it was gaping wide open. Maybe you should've gone to the party, or maybe you should have asked him to stay. Maybe you should have said something different, and maybe… maybe you should have…

Kissed him?

Your eyes stared unblinkingly at the seat across the table from you, and you arrived at a truth you could no longer ignore.

your phone: how do u know u like a guy

kkuramon &lt;3 : IM LEAVING THIS PARTY RIGHT NOW.

EPISODE NINE: ARE YOU A CHICKEN, YN? I DIDN'T THINK SO!

“I'M not going to tell him.”

“Yn,” Sakura said gravely with a deep inhale, “for the last time, are you a chicken?”

You blinked. “I'm sorry, wha—”

“Bawk bawk. Are you a chicken?”

You narrowed your eyes slightly at her. It was a crazy image, this view of your best friend, as she stood in front of you with her futuristic spacecore outfit from the Halloween party she left early, squawking like a chicken. “I think you are drunk.”

Sakura deadpanned. “I'm not drunk.”

“And I'm in denial.”

“Oh, good. So you admit it.”

After rapid discourse in your texts, you went to pick Sakura up from her party, then brought her straight home so you could both deconstruct what exactly you concluded while at the convenience store. You recalled everything that happened while Younghoon was there with you, reliving that exact moment it hit you square in the face like an oncoming train.

And now you were here, being asked if you were a chicken and being accused of denial.

You huffed. “I can't just tell him that I like him! It's not—it’s not that big of a deal. It's not like I'm in love with him or anything!” You… you weren't in love, were you…?

Sakura braced both hands on her hips. “You say it's not a big deal, but here we are,” she said with a vague gesture to your bedroom. “Honey,” she continued, but softer, “whether you're in love with him or you just like him more than a friend, it's something. It's different. Are you sure you never felt anything for him before? Not even unconsciously?”

“I mean—” you started, “—I might have. I probably have,” you corrected, cradling your chin in your palm. “I thought he was really cool when I met him last year, but I think that was just one of those silly crushes, y'know? Like the ones you get on people you pass by and know you probably won't meet again?”

She hummed and lowered herself onto the edge of your bed. “Yeah, I get that.”

You scooted your desk chair over to where she was and flopped face first over your bed with a groan. You felt her hand gently smooth down the back of your head. “I dunno, Kkura. Maybe I've always felt something different about him.”

“That could be it,” she said. “And you just didn't realize until it was in your face. Sometimes it sneaks up on you.”

If that wasn't the understatement of the century.

“Why are you so scared of telling him, Yn-ie? From everything I've seen and heard from you, it feels like he probably feels the same way.”

“I'm biased.”

Sakura exhaled. “Logic your way out of this one.”

“Okay, if I logic my way out of this one, I could still get rejected.”

You could feel her eyes roll, even with your face smooshed into the sheets. “I know the prospect of all this is scary, but it's meant to be. That means you care, Yn. That means you care about your friendship with Younghoon, and that's inherently a good thing.”

When you didn't say anything else in response, she added, “You know your feelings will intensify if you leave them unaddressed. Murphy's Law.”

You hated when she was right.

You didn't see Younghoon for at least another week. Once Halloween had gone and passed, November hit everyone in one big fell swoop. Midterms the Sequel was abound, and it did not choose mercy. But amongst the abundance of fires cropping up, you managed to spray some water on a couple to keep the flames tame. (Do not do this to real fires; it won't help.)

It was the middle of the week when you and Younghoon agreed to meet back at the convenience store to hang out. Over the past few days, you kept your interactions with him over text and call as normal as possible, even though you felt like your newly realized feelings were glaringly obvious. If Younghoon thought you were being awkward though, he didn't say.

You and Sakura were in the kitchen right before you were about to take off to head to the convenience store. She was busy making a late lunch (read: dinner); you were busy worrying about everything.

“I've got an idea,” she said, raising the spatula in her hand into the air. “You should bring Younghoon to the wedding.”

You nearly choked on air. “I'm sorry? Say that again.”

With her back turned to you, she gave an emphasized shrug. “If you insist. I was suggesting that you bring Younghoon to the wedding instead of me. It would be killing two birds with one stone.”

“How in the world is that killing two birds with one stone?”

“Well, when you inevitably confess your feelings to him, and he confesses that he reciprocates, you will then have a date for the wedding.” She turned the stove off before twirling around on her slippered-heel, a proud smile on her face. “Ta-da!”

“I just think that if—and big emphasis on if—we do end up together, a wedding would be a lot as an outing.” You imagined how horrific and intimidating that would be, meeting your entire family and extended family after only just deciding to try out dating someone. Even thinking about it sounded overwhelming beyond means, and you couldn't do that to Younghoon.

She angled her head to the side. “But this is Younghoon we're talking about. He literally went to the Space Gala with you on short notice and made you feel safe and comfortable the whole time.”

You sent her a pointed look. “That's not the same thing and you know it.”

She sighed. “Alright. Then what about driving over to meet you at the convenience store at midnight when he had an early rehearsal the next day? He calls you and texts you day and night; he drops by the tutoring center on your shifts to keep you company… I don't know what else you need to convince you.”

You didn't like the spark of hope she was lighting up in your chest. You didn't want to lose a good friend if you were reading him wrong. Was he not charismatic to everyone he met though?

At some point, you got your ass up and down the street. There was a soft tune playing in the background as you wandered through the aisles in search of something to distract you from the anxious racing of your heartbeat. Younghoon had sent you a heads up about an hour ago that he was going to be late because he was coming from an outing, so you had a little more time to mentally prepare. Maybe you would chalk up the courage to tell him. Maybe you really could do it. If you just ripped off the bandaid, whether it be for better or for worse, you could at least say you tried.

You made up your mind then, somewhere in the bread aisle between the wheat and rye.

By the time Younghoon arrived, out of breath and grinning from ear to ear, you managed to hype yourself up to tell him.

“Sorry I'm late,” he said between breaths as he claimed the seat across from you. He paused, sniffing, then grimacing. “And also for the fact that I reek of barbeque.”

“Don't worry about it,” you assured him, teasingly, “the only thing you should be sorry about is not inviting me.”

Younghoon laughed. “You're very right, as always. My friends and I were having an emergency meeting about Jacob and JC!Yn.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh? Any updates?”

He groaned then, burying his face into the palms of his hands. Uh oh. “They almost kissed until Eric interrupted them.”

“No,” you gasped.

“Yes!” He wailed in agony, eyes screwed closed with imaginary tears running down his cheeks. “It was painful to hear but it was also painful watching those two idiots interact at the table. My friends and I, minus JC!Yn and Jacob—we met a little beforehand to talk about what went down when Eric interrupted, and the lovebirds just came in later.” Younghoon huffed a rough sigh from his lips, partnered with a shake of his head. Then he broke into a smile, the corners of the expression soft, as he looked at you from across the table. He rested his cheek against his hand, chin inclining toward you, “So what's going on with you, hm? I feel like we haven't seen each other in ages.”

“We did call on Tuesday,” you pointed out.

He wrinkled his nose with a frown and shrugged. “It's not the same. I missed you.”

Your heart was beating so loud that you could count them out—thump, thump, thump— “I—missed you, too,” you said in earnest. Tell him, Yn. Tell him.

“You know, I think it's funny how we lost touch for so long, but we eventually came back together,” he murmured as he absentmindedly traced out shapes along the table top. “I guess if it's meant to be, then it'll be.”

The way he worded it… you were spinning yourselves in circles in your head trying to define it, to crack it open and solve it like you could a word problem. If the rotator wheel spins at a velocity of—but at this point, you were certain that you could figure out one of those much faster than this. “Yeah,” you agreed quietly.

“Something on your mind, Yn?” He asked you then. His eyes returned to you and you were suddenly stuck. The earth stopped spinning for this single moment in time, all because of the way this man looked at you.

You swallowed. “I…” The words dissipated in your throat. You couldn't do it.

Younghoon waited patiently, though. He considered you and your wide eyes filled with something he didn't know how to label, and maybe a dash of another thing he hoped to find. “Why don't we take a walk?”

With no reason to refuse, you stood up from your seat with him. He smiled at you as he brushed his hand over your back to guide you to the door, then retracted it to tuck his hand into his pocket.

November had so far shown the city a brisk, deep autumn. The trees were already close to completely shedding their leaves for the oncoming winter, and they were often swept away by a cool draft. You zipped up your jacket as the two of you began walking in the direction opposite to your apartment. Whichever way the wind took you both, you supposed.

For the first time in a long time, you and Younghoon were quiet. You were trapped in your own head with the courage you had earlier having mysteriously disappeared. He seemed content enough to let you ponder on it and to speak whenever you were ready.

“My cousin is getting married,” you found yourself saying.

That didn't seem to be the thing he expected to come from your mouth. Surprise flashed across his features and he clambered for a response. “Oh, well, congratulations. When's the wedding?”

“Thanks.” You said, “It’s in December. I… you know I have a big family.”

“Right.” His gaze softened considerably. “I imagine it must be a lot for you then—a family event of that size.”

You realized that you didn't convey exactly what you wanted to get across, and yet, you were reminded again how much he cared. “Yeah,” you murmured. “My brother Justin isn't gonna be able to make it after we already RSVP'd under my immediate family of seven people, and so my mom and I are trying to find someone to fill that space. She wanted to invite this one guy—he was my next-door neighbor for some time. Not my favorite person in the world because he's kind of got it out for me,” you said next.

You were rounding the corner again to loop back down the street toward your apartment. The organ in your chest was flying against your ribcage now; there wasn't much time left to tell him. You could see the metaphorical sand in the glass draining.

“So you're not going to invite this guy then, right?”

You nodded. “And I offered up Sakura just to appease her for the time being, but Sakura's gonna be in Japan in December.”

Younghoon trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. “I see.”

“That's my… that's my dilemma.” No, that isn't your only dilemma, Yn! Tell him! But the apartment was coming up in view, and you would be at the entrance in just a few more minutes.

You and Younghoon slowed your pace as you rounded the block again to cross the street. When you glanced over at him, you swore you could see the conflict warring across his face. If he saw gears turn in your head, you could see a battle scene in his eyes.

“Is this all that's been bothering you?” He asked at last, and you didn't know what to do about the slight intonation in his voice, like he was hoping for something. “I'm not invalidating your stress or anything, I was just—you know, if you had anything else you needed to get off your chest—”

“No, it's just that.” You could practically hear Sakura clucking like a chicken from wherever she was. You quickly added as the apartment door came into view, “It's—it’s not a big deal—finding a plus one, I mean. I'll figure it out.”

Plus one. He'd been your plus one to the Space Gala, but this was different. This was so much more different than that.

But maybe your words sounded like a dismissal or he was thrown off today. He cupped the back of his neck with a small nod. “Okay. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thanks, Hoon.”

He smiled then, the same soft-cornered one that reached his eyes, and that you'd come to be familiar with. You couldn't imagine seeing that face reject your feelings even if you knew he would probably let you down easily.

EPISODE TEN: YOU SPELL PARALLELISM WITH THREE L'S BECAUSE THERE ARE THREE LOSERS

THE engineering library at nine o'clock at night was a familiar environment for you, Chanhee, and Jungwoo. Dead week—the week before finals—meant that it saw the three of you twice as much, even on the weekend before Dead week began. It didn't mean you got studying done though. Sometimes you were just there.

“You guys are so fake! How could I not be updated on every single microevent in your lives?” Jungwoo cried, gesticulating his hands around far too fast for your brain to comprehend. He was about three shots of espresso and five hours in, if that explained things. You were all aware that your habits were not healthy, but no college kid was. “And you call me your friend?”

The thing that had triggered this reaction from Jungwoo had been Chanhee's fault. Or maybe that was your fault. Either way, the topic somehow had gone from calculating your respective grades with probable curves (calculating failure, at this rate) to you and Younghoon.

You liked to argue there was no you and Younghoon—it was just you-comma-Younghoon. Chanhee had sassed back at you with a swift, “Oh, so she's an English major now?” As if English majors were the only ones who could understand grammar and punctuation.

Jungwoo, having had no context given whatsoever, realized quickly that he was out of the loop. Now, you were here.

“I demand the tea!” He screeched, hitting the palm of his hand against the table. Thank god there was no one else here to listen in or shush you and your friends. If there was one thing about the engineering library, it was how out of the way it was from the main campus.

“I really don't think you should have anything else caffeinated—”

Jungwoo's head whipped toward you and his nostrils were flared. “You must think you're so funny,” he said with narrowed eyes and a saccharine smile. You would have been scared had you not seen this man once blow a massive snot bubble all over his differential calculus homework. (If anyone found out about that, it most definitely didn’t come from your lips…)

Your eyes shuddered, an innocent smile coming to your lips. “I was just saying.”

“Shuuush!” He stopped, thought about it, then retracted. “Actually, don't shush. Tell me what you and Chanhee know, but I don't.”

Chanhee snorted from his side of the table. “That's a long list.”

Jungwoo cut a glare toward Chanhee. “I despise you both,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, but all jokes aside,” Chanhee said as he tucked his tablet stylus behind his ear. He cocked a high-arched brow your way. “What is going on, Yn? Do update us. Or for Jungwoo’s sake, start from the beginning.”

Your eyes widened like a deer in headlights. You hadn’t expected Chanhee to turn on you, too, but perhaps you should have seen this coming. A generous amount of time had passed since you last failed to confess your feelings to one Kim Younghoon. Between that day and today, you had managed to finally submit your space grant application and passed your second round of midterms by the seat of your pants (hip, hip, hooray). Since that day, you and Younghoon would continue to interact as normal, except for the fact that you were practically walking on eggshells around him.

Just the other day, you both fell asleep while on-call with each other. When you’d woken up the morning afterward, you discovered that, one, it was a good thing you plugged your phone into its charging cord; and two, that Younghoon was just as pretty asleep as he was awake.

To this news, Chanhee merely fluttered his lengthy lashes, unimpressed. “And you’re telling me you don’t think he feels the same way?” He asked.

At some point, Jungwoo had broken out a half-eaten granola bar from his bag to munch on as a replacement for popcorn. “I can’t believe I’ve missed so much,” he said, shoving the bite into his cheek so he could speak. “And Kim Younghoon, Yn? Wooooow, I see you girl. That guy was insane as Charles Bingley in freshman year.”

“You’re so right,” Chanhee chimed in with an indulgent nod, pointing his stylus at Jungwoo. “I don’t know if insane was the right word, but he encapsulated the Bingley gent essence quite nicely.”

“I never saw that one,” you confessed.

Jungwoo’s face scrunched up on one side. “Clearly. At least he knows that you’re not just in it for his celebrity status.”

You leaned back in your chair and dragged your hands down the length of your face with an embarrassed groan. Only your guy friends; Chanhee and Jungwoo, as expected, gave a light laugh at your expense. “I don't like you guys.”

“C’mon Yn-ie,” Chanhee teased and reached over to poke your arm with the butt of his stylus pen. When you peeked one eye out between your fingers, he puckered his lips at you like a penguin. “Love you.”

You reluctantly slid your hands down. “If I'm gonna be clowned for my feelings, I'd rather be in bed!” You declared, taking your phone from the pile at the center of the table to check the time. It was nearly ten o'clock at this rate. Ah, and had anything productive been done? Absolutely none. Perfectly on track for the three of you.

“Nooo, don't go, Yn! You're too sexy,” Jungwoo whined.

“I think you should tell Younghoon your feelings,” said Chanhee. He hiked his feet onto the chair, hugging his knees to his chest. “You need to razz him up.”

You frowned. “I thought it was ‘rizz.’”

“You don't have rizz, though, so I thought razz would be the next best thing,” he said flippantly.

“Burn!” Jungwoo exclaimed with his hand cupped around his mouth, and you were suddenly reminded that he was in a frat.

You leaned your cheek against the palm of your hand with a dramatic sigh. “You're right; I do not have rizz.”

Chanhee's brows scrunched together in concern. “Oh my god, I thought you would fight back—of course, you have rizz, Yn! You snagged Kim Younghoon!”

Before you could tell him you’d given up on fighting back or before Jungwoo could give up on his sanity, Chanhee's phone buzzed from where it was sitting at the center of the table. You expected it to be Chanhee's friend, CH!Yn, since she was the most probable person texting at this hour; instead, Chanhee let out a delighted gasp, slapping his hand to his mouth at whatever notification he found waiting for him.

Both you and Jungwoo leapt to your feet and scrambled to peer over his shoulders. “What? Who is it?”

“It's JC!Yn,” he shrieked. “She's asking about flower shops.”

You and Jungwoo stayed perched over either of Chanhee's shoulders to see what would transpire. It was a brief exchange within the group chat of three people that included JC!Yn, Changmin, and Chanhee. Chanhee somehow knew about a flower shop in the university district that was open until eleven o'clock. After all your years of attending this school, you had no idea it even existed.

But once JC!Yn was off on her way, Chanhee turned his phone off with a prediction that he would not be hearing from her until at least tomorrow morning. “Looks like someone's getting confessed to tonight,” he snickered to himself.

Jungwoo was back in his original seat—a generous wording, since he leaned a good eighty percent of his body over the table with his knees braced on the chair, legs kicking up behind him. “You know what you should do, Yn? You should sweep Younghoon off his feet just like that. I'm sure he adores receiving flowers.”

“Would it not be as special though if he gets flowers after every show?” You asked genuinely, pressing the butt of your pen between your lips. “I'm not against getting him flowers.” Flowers would be a good idea… you'd seen plenty of movies that had romanticized the idea of giving and receiving flowers in your mind, and it would be an obvious gesture. At the very least, you could pull a Younghoon and tell him the flowers reminded you of him because they were gorgeous—or something to that effect. Maybe you really didn't have rizz…

Jungwoo shrugged with one of his shoulders. “I'm sure it would be special coming from you. I dunno. It's just something to think about.”

“So,” Juyeon drawled with his head lolling over the back of the couch to look over at Younghoon, “now that Jacob's situation is solved, what about you?”

Younghoon glanced up from his phone. “What about me?”

There were five of them holed up in Sangyeon's apartment presently, and four of them had invaded the eldest friend's abode to hoard his TV and play Super Smash Brothers. He was the only one with a working TV and decent WiFi to game on that wasn't Jacob and Kevin's apartment. Only, a couple hours in, Juyeon received a text message from Eric with a live update that JC!Yn was going to confess to Jacob.

Eric had ended his update with an ominous: Tell Kevin hyung he shouldn't go home tonight 🤣. That definitely livened up the place.

Kevin sat up from where he had been lying on the floor. “Oh, yo, you're so right. What's going on with you and Yn?”

Younghoon's eyes widened. “Nothing.”

“Don't give us that bullshit,” Hyunjae clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Didn't you say that you liked her?” He teased with a glint in his eyes as he wiggled his fingers Younghoon's way.

The man at the heart of the interrogation rolled his eyes and smacked Hyunjae's hand away. “I will not object to having said that I liked her, if that's what you're getting at.” Frankly, he would own up to having admitted that was how he felt about you. So what, he liked you? He wasn't embarrassed by it. The only problem was living with this knowledge and not telling you.

Sangyeon came over from the kitchen to lean against the back of the couch. He had a drink in hand, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Do you have a plan or are you gonna pull a Jacob and be a chicken?”

Kevin arched a high brow. “Only I can call Cobie a chicken, thank you very much.” He turned on Younghoon next with an accusing finger. “And you—I can't even go home right now, so let's get down to business.”

Younghoon blinked. “What business—”

“Order in the court!” Juyeon interjected. He grinned like a bunny. “Sorry, I know I have to wait until I'm a lawyer first, but it's just so fun to say.”

Sangyeon sputtered a laugh against the rim of his drink, blindly patting Juyeon on the head. “It's cool, man. Very appropriate timing.”

“We should play Marvin Gaye,” said Hyunjae. “It'll get us in the mood to tell Younghoon how to properly woo somebody.”

Younghoon swore his face was probably the shade of a ripe tomato. This was in no way how he thought his evening would go. And to be honest, he never ever expected having this conversation with his friends, ever. The last thing he wanted to do was to make his feelings all the more forward in his mind, and he was already having trouble whenever he was around you, and all you did was remind him of all the reasons why he wanted to be with you.

The thing was that he couldn't tell if you reciprocated his feelings. Sure, he could flirt and insert himself into your life all he wanted. But you could just be playing nice!

…actually, you probably were just playing nice. Dear god, he was back at square one.

He simply didn't want to lose your friendship, at the very least. Even if you didn't want to be with him in that way, he would pull up his big boy pants and be a friend to you instead. Then he wouldn't have to live without seeing you smile or listening to you work out problems aloud while he did mundane things in the background—

“And we lost him.”

Younghoon cleared his throat, raising a hand up to scratch his jawline. “You did not lose me,” he protested. The amount of attention on him right now was uncanny. Of course, he could go up onstage and be a character—but reality was different. He couldn't put on a mask or another personality; these people knew him… wasn't that scary? And yet, somehow freeing, at the same time.

Kevin inclined his chin to him with a little smirk. “You did have hearts in your eyes, my dude.”

“Aww, he's in love,” Sangyeon gushed while standing up to go refill his drink.

“I'm not in love!” He said with his index finger pointed at the sky. (He was in love. Of course, he knew he was in love. Because when all he did for the past three months of his life besides school was be around you and think about you and you you you… how could he not? Younghoon could fake any emotion in the world in front of an audience of people, but your eyes alone would devastate him.)

The entire apartment, sans Younghoon, chorused altogether now, “Yes, you are.”

Younghoon balked, rocketing upright. “There is no way all of you agreed on something for the first time and it was this.”

Hyunjae patted his friend's thigh from his position on the floor. “Believe it, Lover Boy. So what're you gonna do about it?”

“I wouldn't even know how to tell her,” Younghoon huffed, leaning back against the couch cushion with his arms crossed over his chest in thought.

That day when you'd told him about the wedding, he had been so hopeful that you were going to say something about feelings. He was so certain that he read you right, but you said nothing else afterward. He would totally go to that wedding with you, though; he just figured you might not want him to go, considering you'd dismissed it so quickly afterward.

Sangyeon came back to the couch and perched himself onto the arm of the sectional next to Juyeon. “It doesn't have to be fancy—you just need to be clear and straightforward.”

“Flowers could soften the blow,” suggested Juyeon.

Kevin chuckled. “For him or for Yn?”

Younghoon clicked his tongue at him with a playful scowl. “Quiet, you. But thanks, guys. I guess I just want to do this right. I don't wanna ruin what we already have.”

Juyeon pursed his lips and reached over to clasp his hand on his friend's shoulder. “You won't, man. I guarantee you that.”

“So if I get my heart broken, I can sue you for false advertisement?” Younghoon asked with his lips stretched in a grin, eyelashes fluttering innocently.

“Pssh,” Juyeon laughed, “try me.”

EPISODE ELEVEN: THE USUAL TIME & PLACE

IT was a frightening sequence of events when you texted Younghoon and he texted you at the same time. The Monday after Chanhee and Jungwoo had hyped you up to confess, you went around different items of furniture in your apartment with your phone in hand, pencil behind your ear, trying to work up the courage again to send the text.

And you did… eventually.

The usual time and place was decided upon, and it had snuck up on you as the day went on. You tied your shoes on and slipped out the door, making sure to pat your pocket down for where you had tucked your secret weapon for the night. As soon as you and Younghoon had confirmed a meeting for today, you ran to your (favorite) grad student, Seulgi, and asked very nicely for her set of keys into the planetarium, promising to treat her to brunch if she did.

The walk over to the convenience store was a jitter-filled one. Your stomach was doing cartwheels alongside the flips your heart performed in your chest. There was still activity on the streets, even at nine o’clock on a Dead week evening. You jumbled through the routine you had in mind over and over, a broken record of hopes and wants. The plan was to take a walk to the planetarium and use said walk to work up the courage to tell him. If anything went wrong, then you could cover it up with a cool presentation of stars overhead.

This isn’t lame, is it? You thought to yourself as you let yourself into the store. You were so in your head, you nearly didn’t notice that Younghoon was standing right in front of you, having just walked out of one of the aisles. You startled, breath hitching in your throat.

He smiled, the expression soft. “Hey,” he said to you and had to clear his throat, a hand brushing through his hair. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“All good; guess my head was just somewhere else,” you laughed nervously. You gripped the key in your pocket until you were sure your skin would smell like metal by the time you got to the planetarium. The two of you had met and hung out here a bundle of times before this, but this time in particular was different. The energy shifted in a way you couldn’t foretell if it was good or bad. For your sake, you hoped it was the former.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked and took a step toward you.

You inhaled, nodding. “I do,” you said. “I—actually, uhm, do you want to go to the planetarium with me?” From your pocket, you withdrew the keys Seulgi gave you and wiggled them around by the keyring. “I bribed one of my seniors for the keys.”

Younghoon brightened, a laugh falling out of his mouth, and now he was standing right next to you. “Oh my god, you evil genius… my beloved mastermind, are we about to break some rules?” He teasingly bumped your arm with his, his eyebrows wagging up and down.

“Only if you’ll break them with me,” you beamed and reached for the door to the front door.

“But of course,” he played along with a giddiness shining through his expression. “Anything with you. Though, I’d like to stop somewhere on the way first.”

Without even visiting your table in the back of the shop, you and Younghoon took off into the night together. You couldn’t imagine where Younghoon wanted to stop by on the way, but you thought it was probably to run an errand of sorts. But for the moment, it was at the back of your mind as you tried to keep this as normal as possible. “Different” was so intimidating—you wanted to sink into the comfort that was whatever you and Younghoon had.

It wasn’t difficult to slip into that normalcy, though. He always made it so easy.

“—and they did so well, Yn-ah. You need to come back and see them in person; they’re always asking me where you are,” he told you with an invigorated passion. He gave a feigned sniffle. “Pretty sure they like you more than me.”

You shook your head, laughing, “You’re so dramatic. They love you, Hoon. I mean, I can’t even believe that they would remember me after having met them only once!”

“Well,” he drawled, glancing away for a spell, “that might be my doing.” He confessed sheepishly, “I do talk about you a lot—but hey! You can’t blame me! I like talking about subjects that mean a lot to me.”

Your heart made a full stop in your chest, and you nearly physically halted in the middle of the walkway. The gears in your head could barely process what he had just said without going into a spiral. It was a reminder of what this night was originally about. You sputtered out a reply, “You’re too sweet, you know that?”

“I try,” he jested.

“I do finish all my finals next week by Tuesday,” you told him. “I can totally come by that Wednesday and Friday for a little wing fitting. When’d you say the show was?”

He squinted one of his eyes in thought. “Err… it should be the Friday night after next, but if you do come through with those props, that should still give them enough time to get used to them before the performance.”

You nodded, mentally mapping out your schedule. Once your finals were through, you would have plenty of time to tinker with the props and have some proper fun after such a long quarter. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I appreciate it a lot, Yn,” he said, ducking his head as he nudged you with his elbow, “thank you in advance. I call you a workaholic, but here I am encouraging it.”

You chuckled. “It’s no trouble, Younghoon. Seriously. I like doing crafty things, and it’ll be a nice project. I promise.” To the end of that, you stressed further, “And if you think about it like you’re encouraging my hobbies and passions, then it feels a lot less like work.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose you’re right.” His head perked up when his eyes caught onto something in the near distance. His fingers unconsciously caught onto your wrist. “Here it is.”

Wherever you expected to find yourself, it was not a flower shop. There was no shop name or title anywhere that you could see, just the sketched posters and advertisements in the windows of chrysanthemums and hydrangeas. Troughs of vivid blooms lined the front windows like testaments to the plants one might expect to find within. Hanging planters dangled from the overhang, vines and foliage spilling over in an elegant mess.

There was one other sign posted in the window of the door that read its opening hours from 8am to 11pm.

Younghoon's cheekbones seemed to flush in the light streaming out from the inside of the shop. “Shall we?” He asked shyly and grabbed the door handle to open it for you.

You stepped inside before him with the door closing behind the two of you softly. You weren't sure where to go first—the room was constructed with two long tables in the center to hold smaller planters, then the perimeter was covered nearly from floor to ceiling with the larger plants, as well as the hanging garden pots like the ones outside hung from the ceilings by the lights.

There was someone to the right side of the room with a large, green watering can in hand. She glanced up when she heard the two of you come in. “Hi! How can I help you two?” She asked, reaching up to take out one of the earbuds she had in.

Younghoon placed one of his hands on your shoulder. “Would you mind if we took a look around?”

“No, not at all. Help yourselves; if you need anything, don't hesitate to holler.”

He smiled, “Sounds good, thank you!”

Did he know what he was here for? You followed him toward the leftmost table, unsure of where to wander yourself since there was so much stimuli. He stopped at one of the pots and you stood beside him. Leaning closer, you whispered, “I don't really know what we're looking at.”

“Me neither,” he admitted with an embarrassed grin, but then he pulled out a planter tag at the front of the pot he was examining. “But these might help.”

“You're probably right,” you mused, patting him on the arm.

“Look, these are carnations.” He scooted over to the next one over. There were an array of different colors of them, ranging from white to the deepest red. He placed a finger against his lips, then pointed at the white ones. “Those mean innocence, and those—” these were directed toward the blush pink ones, “—something along the lines of 'I'll never forget you.’”

You still stood close to him, and you reached over to gently warm the velvety petals between your fingertips. “I hope it's okay to touch them,” you suddenly said, swiftly retracing your fingers and peering over your shoulder at the worker.

“I'm sure it's okay,” he chuckled. He pointed out a buttery yellow set of petals a few pots down. “Aren't these gorgeous?” He breathed in awe.

When you arrived at the petal of choice, you raised the tag to see its name—daffodils. They were beautiful indeed, with pristine petals and tall stems, the color of them a rich yellow as if it had been painted rather than grown.

“What do these mean?” You asked.

“Unrivaled love? I think,” he answered with a slight tilt of his head.

You considered him for a moment with lips parted. “You're incredible, you know that? How do you know all this?”

His smile sweetened into something that made your chest feel warm. “You say that as if you're not the incredible one. But, Google. Don't look at my search history,” he muttered sheepishly.

It made you smile anyway.

You turned your head to scan the rows upon rows of diversity in one room. You were never quite the foliage fiend, but you could appreciate nature's beauty as much as nature's laws. Even if you might never be able to grow flowers of your own (because trust that you'd tried), as long as these places still existed, you could still admire and appreciate them.

Your eyes snagged onto a bundle of tulips at the front of the shop and you wandered over to take a look. Younghoon trailed after you to see what you wanted to look at, and stopped with you to admire the tulips. Their buds were near perfect, and they varied in so many colors—all soft purples, reds, yellows, pinks.

“Wow,” you said.

“Wow,” he agreed. He caressed the outside petals of one of the bulbs, then took the individual flower by the stem. He took yet another in his opposite hand and faced you. “What did the tulip say to the other tulip?”

You blinked. “Do indulge me.”

“We should put our tulips together and kiss,” he answered, and he pressed his own lips together in a barely contained smile.

You covered your mouth with one hand, a smile of your own blossoming under your palm. “I don't know about that one…”

“I don't be-leaf you when you say you're not a fan of that one.”

At this point, you could feel your face heat up and you could no longer hide your smile. “You're incorrigible.”

“It made you smile,” he quipped back with a smirk. He placed the tulips in his hands gently back into their pot, then swiveled on the balls of his feet. “They’re beautiful.”

“They are,” you agreed.

“Like you.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, but he already had his back turned to you as he surveyed the shop for the person who was on shift. Yet, you still spied the bit of red creeping up the back of his neck, and found yourself content.

“Hi, excuse me!” He caught the worker's attention. “Could we get just a little bundle of these tulips, please? Thank you so much.”

Your eyes widened and you tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. “Younghoon, what're you—”

He had a satisfied smile on his face. “Getting you flowers.”

“You don't need to get me flowers.”

“I’d like to,” he said simply, and that was the end of the conversation.

Less than ten minutes later, you and Younghoon were back out on the sidewalk with a new addition to the group. You cradled a small bouquet of tulips in the crook of your arm. The girl working there tonight had told you that being open so late caught a lot of last minute gift-givers as she wrapped your flowers in a tan colored butcher paper. She seemed to be an expert at tying ribbon bows that were just as beautiful as the flowers she tended, too.

You were already spinning far from your original intentions. You hadn't accounted for Younghoon making this gesture, and you wondered if he planned something for tonight.

Your counterpart suddenly cleared his throat while the two of you resumed your journey to the planetarium. You were only a few minutes away from the planetarium now. “I know I asked earlier if there was something you wanted to talk about,” he said, “but there is something I wanted to also talk about.”

Your heart fumbled over itself. “Uhm, yeah—yes, what's on your mind?”

From where you were on the street, you could see the broad dome of your target building just across the street. There was a rapid leap in your heart rate as he faced you beneath the street light shining over your heads like some kind of strangely timed, solo spotlight. The crosswalk turned green, but you stayed rooted to your place.

“I've been trying to figure out how to tell you this,” he began. He sucked in a deep breath and swallowed. You could only imagine how long he spent training himself to hold a poker face, but it was the liminal spaces where you could see right through him. “I like you a lot, Yn. It's—it’s an overwhelming amount, what I feel about you.”

You peered over at him wordlessly and hung onto every syllable coming from his mouth.

He wrung his hands out; this perhaps wasn't a script he was prepared for. But who ever came prepared for something like this? “And I think it's pretty obvious what I was hoping for tonight to be like from the flowers and all, and I was hoping that I was being just as obvious with how I felt about you, and… I don't know. I just… I had to tell you.” His lips pressed together so that the small divot in the side of his cheek appeared.

You didn't know how to describe the wave of emotion that washed over you. There was the rapid heart beat thundering in your ears, the tingle of relief in your shoulders, the happiness taking flight in your stomach.

“I have to be honest, I—I feel the exact same way you do.” You ducked your head, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “And I didn't know how to tell you either because I was really scared.” Your voice tripped, and you picked yourself back up. He waited for you, as always, patiently letting you say your piece. “I didn't want to lose you as a friend, at the very least, because you've come to mean so much to me over these past few months.”

Younghoon's smile widened and the amber color from the streetlight above haloed around his head for one dizzying second. “I didn't want to lose you either. I'm literally head over heels for you; you're every… you're everything.”

You didn't know how else to express your feelings through words, and you wrapped your arms around his middle, the flowers coming around his back to avoid being crushed. “Not good at words, sorry,” you mumbled into the fabric of his jacket.

You could feel the vibrations of his warm chuckle as he slowly wrapped his arms around you, his lips pressing against the side of your head. Message received.

Not everything went to plan, and it was important to exercise flexibility in such times. You still snuck (broke) into the planetarium with Younghoon, hand-in-hand, but all feelings were already known and laid sprawled on the table.

There was a center platform in the main showcase hall that was carpeted in a layer of fake grass that you and Younghoon gladly lounged upon to watch the universe. The image projected above your heads now of faraway solar systems and galaxies was unfortunately not real—they were produced by a specific software rather than the lens of a telescope. It was breathtaking, nonetheless.

You laid with your back against the fake grass next to Younghoon, your arms pressed against one another. The light projecting onto the dome above filtered down and painted you both in colors of stars and dark matter, all of those swirls of oranges and purples and blues and white.

“There is one thing that's still on my mind.”

He hummed. “What's that?”

“I was wondering—and you can totally say no—but the wedding…” You glanced over at him, and you wondered if he could understand what you were probing at. “I was wondering if you'd be comfortable going as my plus one. It's just the reception, but I understand if it's a lot.”

He smiled at you, big and bright, “I'd love to go as your plus one.”

Relief and joy fluttered in your chest now. It was a miracle your heart didn't grow wings and fly out then. “Thank you, really.”

His fingers inched over yours until they intertwined as a silent acknowledgement. He knew. He always knew somehow.

In the silence, you returned your gaze up to the night sky. It was crazy how vast the universe was and how small you were in relation to it. When put into perspective, your problems here on Earth were so much smaller than the world—and yet, they were still important.

“When I was a kid,” you started to say, and heard a small sound from your right as he looked back over at you, “I wanted to touch the stars.” You turned your head to look back at him.

His lip quirked upward fondly. “Something of yours will touch the stars one day.”

“I hope so,” you mused back. That was the dream.

His eyes dropped down to your mouth now, and everything quieted, as if you were in a vacuum with only the two of you. In this reality, no one and nothing else existed.

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin as he leaned toward you and pressed his lips against yours. His body rolled half over yours, one hand cupping your jaw with a tenderness you were certain to become addicted to. It was your chest against his, your nose slotting beside his, your cheek beneath his thumb. His lips were a perfect marriage of pressure and softness at once.

When he pulled away, he didn't go far. “I think I just touched a star,” he murmured.

The breath in your throat hitched. “You're too good with words, Kim Younghoon.”

His eyes crinkled. “We can do something more your speed and study the space between us instead.”

You had to turn away to laugh, the sound of his own joining yours.

“Hey, it's a yes or no question,” he giggled, turning your chin back toward him. He bit his lip through a grin. “Can I kiss you again?”

You would be a fool to refuse him. In an instant, he lowered his lips over yours again, enveloped you in his embrace. And with every moment passed, you sank further and further into him. Maybe the universe was uncharted and alluring, but the universe could wait.

You had all the world right here.

a/n: tumblr fcking hates me and my dialogue, confirmed. anyways, pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! for now, i'll see u in hot commodity!

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @moonyswolf @your-mirae @richasdiary @sunramzi @deobi0412 @kflixnet

[kudotsurugi]

Random Thought: Why does all "90's Anime style" fanart just look like Sailor Moon?

Okay, obviously not all fanart looks like it. But if you were to type in "90s anime style" here on Tumblr or DeviantArt at the time of this post, it at least seems to be the majority stand-in for 90s anime aesthetic, right? Especially in the characters' eyes.

Don't me wrong, this is not a knock against Sailor Moon. It is a great anime, and the collective character designs by Kazuko Tadano, Ikuko Ito, and Mari Tominaga among other staff are iconic. So iconic that Tadano was brought back as the character designer for the latest Sailor Moon movies. That is quite the staying power.

But let's be fair, there are plenty of 90s anime out there that can also be used as inspiration. So, here are the names of 11 character designers alongside some gifs of shows/projects they worked on in that role. Some you may not know but you've seen their work, and others you probably know for their distinct art style or association with a franchise.

Things worth noting: First, the years listed here with some anime may reflect when the artists' work started airing, rather than when the anime itself actually started. Some folks listed here enter their projects mid-production in other roles, while others are in the role from the start. Second, each entry will list 1 or 2 projects aired/released during the 90s, but it will be noted if the artist's role continues beyond that with certain franchises. Lastly, these artists are listed in no particular order, so no "top 11" hierarchy. With that said, here's our examples:

Hisashi Eguchi (Roujin Z[1991], Sonic the Hedgehog CD [1993])

2. Katsuyoshi Nakatsuru(Dragon Ball franchise (Z [1993-96], GT [1996], Daima [2024]), Digimon franchise [1999-2002, 2019-2023])

3. Kumiko Takahashi (Cardcaptor Sakura [1998-2000], Birdy The Mighty[1996])

4. Takahiro Yoshimatsu (Trigun[1998], Slayers franchise[1995-97])

5. Atsuko Nakajima (Ranma 1/2[1989-1992], You're Under Arrest[1996])

6. Sayuri Ichiishi (Pokémon[Pokémon design: 1996-present, human character design: 1996-2017])

7. Atsuko Ishida (Magic Knight Rayearth[1994-1995])

8. Masaya Onishi (Yu Yu Hakusho[1993-1994])

9. Toshihiro Kawamoto(Cowboy Bebop[1998-1999], Mobile Suit Gundam: The 08th MS Team[1996])

10. Hiroshi Osaka(Gundam franchise[Mobile Suit Victory Gundam: 1993-1994, Mobile Fighter G-Gundam:1994-1995])

11. Yoshiyuki Sadamoto(Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water[1990-1991], Neon Genesis Evangelion franchise[1995-1997, 2007-2021])

Might've leaned a bit more on the Shonen side of things than Shojo, but I hope you can see my point😅. There are tons of 90s anime out there with their own unique feel and aesthetic. These are only 11 names that I found.

For anyone drawing 90s anime style fanart, I hope this has given you some inspiration, and I encourage anyone reading this to look up your favourite anime on Anime News Network's encyclopedia and see who's responsible for helping bring your favorite characters to life on screen and what other shows they've worked on.

[margareth-lv]

⛓️ When art and life become one ⛓️

I believe fairy tales have a great deal of therapeutic power. And there's nothing quite like a good story.

As I’ve written here a few times before, I first started watching Outlander in 2020 – a challenging year for us all. At that time, we all needed a good story to take our minds off reality. And to move into the catharsis that art offers. You can imagine my excitement when I realised that two actors (who were so obviously in love) playing the characters in the story were born around the same time as the characters they were playing.

James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, born on 1 May. Sam Roland Heughan, born on 30 April. Both Taurus, just like me. Claire Beauchamp Randall Fraser, born on 20 October. Caitríona Mary Balfe, born on 4 October. Both Libra.

And, as you might expect, in both the play and real life, she is older than he is. Isn't it wonderful how things just fall into place sometimes? There’s always something to ponder, think about and enjoy.

But it's been a while since we've seen joy in "enjoy." The Taylor Swift concert is the exception that proves the rule, here.

I'm getting tired of the low-level storytelling we've been presented with for a while now. This story is the worst of the worst. It’s a pretty poor selection of C, D, and E cinema.

And it's pretty sad how two people, who literally built their relative public recognisability on being the 'hottest couple on the screen', are now pathetically role-playing their supposed 'real love lives'. And neither of them succeeds. They're also pretty weak actors in their roles of romantic lovers (I'm thinking mainly of Sam here). Let me just say that they're not pathetic only when they're together. *** *** *** When I saw the blurry, embarrassing footage from this weekend's Giorgio Armani Tennis Classic (tagged #ad on Sam's Instagram), my first thought was that it was a spectacle for us, our Tumblr fandom. There's no one else who would be interested in something you have to look for with a magnifying glass, zooming in, spending long minutes stopping frames of film. Then I got reminded about the Wimbledon Tennis Championships back in July 2019 and another poor performances by 'bride' and her 'groom' a month before their 'wedding'.

Do you remember those pictures?

First wife, second wife, Claire Beauchamp Randall Fraser and Laoghaire MacKenzie, I mean, Evie Greenwood, a primary teacher.

You know, realism and art all blend together.

We first saw this kind of kissing being reduced to sucking on the partner's upper lip in what we were forced to think was Sam’s ‘real life’, and then we saw the same thing on screen.

And what about Sam's somewhat embarrassing performance in The Couple Next Door? Which other actor in that film has exposed themselves so much (and so pointlessly), in a literal sense?

How many of us thought Sam's performance in the erotic scenes in TCND was not sexy at all, but disgusting?

I did.

Wasn't that display of Sam's rhythmically moving buttocks as distasteful as his other performance a few weeks ago?

Seriously, I would never want my husband/partner/father of my children to behave like this. There's no money worth it. But maybe there is.

Sometimes I feel sorry for them, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I remind myself of how jealous Cait can be.

How on earth do they manage to live like that?

[3 July, 2024]