#hope you enjoyed my word vomit haha

[akai-anna]

So I just recently read your post about decto relationships with the bingo card thing, and I enjoyed it a lot and wanted to hear more of your opinions on other relationships. I would like to see which other relationships you choose and how you view them.

Firstly, I would like you to know: I cannot even put into words how happy this ask made me (the fact someone was curious enough to ask something from me unprompted! the fact that SOMEONE TOOK THE TIME TO APPROACH ME TO ASK!! AND ABOUT DETCO!!!), so thank you very much for making my day with this and giving me that dopamine rush. (Also, thank you for your patience, I got too busy and took me much longer to answer than expected!)

Secondly, notes still apply:

as in the previous ask about relating to this topic, i interpret relationships in the broadest possible sense

i check everything that makes sense to me, even if they seem contradictory; i view them applied to different situations/universes/possibilities

ship opinion bingo in question

*cracks fingers and rolls up sleeves* Now, let's get down to business.

I. Kudou Shinichi/Edogawa Conan - Miyano Shiho/Haibara Ai - Detective Boys Trio

The Elementary Squad

I have A LOT OF THOUGHTS ABOUT THEM SO GET READY.

In general, the friendship (friendship is a canon relationship!) these 4 (then eventually 5) little menaces of my heart share, is so very precious. The way these 3 latched onto him, and integrated him into their little group, how Shinichi LITERALLY ACTS LIKE HIMSELF AROUND THEM DESPITE THE KIDS HAVING NO IDEA ABOUT HIS TRUE IDENTITY. HE IS AUTHENTIC AROUND THEM. Also I forgot the number of times the kids called Shinichi out on his BS (like him switching between his adult and child speech patterns when interacting with adults/the police and disappearing acts) and how many times they all get in soooo much trouble because they are lil troublemakers, so curious, never saying no to adventure.

Shinichi is a mentor to them, teaching them about stuff but also their friend. Shinichi is Big Brother material, and the kids know that they can count on him, turn to him in need, and Shinichi cannot help but indulge them, involving them in stuff to an extent, while also trying his damnedest to keep them safe and protect them (even at his own risk and safety, bodily protecting them).

And then you add Ai to the mix, and she gets integrated into their tight-knit little group. Not only Shinichi finally has a connection to the BO with her, but also someone who is in the same situation as himself and someone who needs his protection. (AND SOMEONE WHO TEASES HIM LIKE HE DESERVES IT! AI-SHINICHI BANTER IS SO GOOD! LOVE THEM!) And Ai finds herself not only friends but a family. (Sometimes a family is one middled aged man, 2 fake and 3 real elementary students.)

She encounters unconditional kindness, which melts her cool exterior and as time passes she not only comes to care about these people, but also learns to lower her barriers. And ultimately makes the choice to be with them despite the risks.

You can give me these 5 kids in almost any combination and I would be so happy to see them (and could talk about them for hours without stopping, almost did them in different combinations separately, God, save my soul). Special mention: Mitsuhiko-Shinichi/Conan dynamic gets to me so bad because Mitsuhiko is the most curious of the 3, when it comes to knowledge. He LOVES learning, and applying what he knows (just like a certain someone we know). And Mitsuhiko learns well; he absorbs what Shinichi tells and shows him. (And I love how complex his feelings are about that.) Also the parallel between Heiji and Mitsuhiko, my HEART-

I could go on forever about these children of mine (AYUMI AND MITSUHIKO'S PUPPY CRUSHES ON SHINICHI AND AI RESPECTIVELY, HOW THEY ALL PLAY SOCCER AND HIDE AND SEEK TOGETHER, THEIR LIL ANTICS, HOW THE KIDS LEARN TO THINK FOR THEMSELVES- *GETS SMACKED WITH A PILLOW IN THE FACE*), so have this utterly adorable lil thing to close this section.

⊱✿⊰

II. Vermouth/Chris Vineyard/Sharon Vineyard -Kudou Shinichi/Edogawa Conan (- Mouri Ran)

This is such a delightfully precious and weird dynamic. I don't even know how to describe it, really because 1) there is so little content of this (WHERE IS MY VERMOUTH BACKSTORY/ARC!!! WHERE!!! WHERE IS MORE OF THEM!!! WHERE!!!) relationship in particular and 2) how do you even label something so unusual? Vermouth having such a solid opinion of Shinichi and Ran while the other two are so unsure what is exactly going on. (Shinichi is definitely suspicious of her with GOOD REASOn but also Weirded out I feel while Ran knows even less.) SO BEAUTIFULLY IMBALANCED AND WEIRD.

I guess, in short: Vermouth having a life-altering meeting with these two, only for Shinichi and Ran for it to be The Most Natural Thing?

I JUST LOVE HOW VERMOUTH IS SO FOND OF THESE TWO. (SHE LITERALLY HAS PHOTOS OF THEM!!!) HOW MUCH SHE WANTS THEM TO BE SAFE. SO MUCH SHE EVEN RISKS HER OWN LIFE AND SAFETY.

SO MUCH SHE WOULD SCHEME AND LIE TO KEEP THESE TWO SAFE. (SHE FCKIN!!!! DRAPED HER OWN COAT OVER HIM I'M!!! KDSNVKJSDVNKJSD *SCREAMS AT TOP LUNG CAPACITY* SHE FREAKING MADE AMURO PROMISED NOT TO HARM RAN AND SHINICHI, I'M GOING BONKERS!!!)

SO MUCH SHE WOULD EVEN TURN A GUN AGAINST ANOTHER BO MEMBER, WOULDN'T LET ANYONE ENDANGER THEM NOT EVEN HERSELF.

I'M! SCREAMING!! Love me a morally grey woman with her own agenda.

NOT ONLY THAT BUT SHE WOULD ALSO HELP THEM OUT? HER COVERING FOR THIS GReMLIn i'M DEAD, The WInK-

BUT SHE ALSO WOULD DO THIS:

(THE FREAKING GIRLY RUN SHE DOES AND THE LITTLE HEART, SHE KNOWS SHE'S OPENLY BEING A LIL SHIT TO SHINICHI AND I'M THRIVING-)

THEY ARE HER TREASURES YOUR HONOUR!!!

Each and every interaction with them has me IN ABSOLUTE HYSTERICS, MAKING ME GO CRAZY. For closing this section, I leave you with a (bad quality) gif I made (in a rush) because this part in the anime MAKES ME LOSE IT EVERY TIME. THE SLOW MOTION, THE WAY HE HOLDS HIM BY THE HANDS AND GENTLE WAY SHE SETS SHINICHI DOWN, I CANNOT.

⊱✿⊰

III. Hattori Heiji - Tooyama Kazuha - Mouri Ran - Kudou Shinichi/Edogawa Conan

THE OSAKA DUO (AKA FIRECRACKER PAIR) and the Tokyoites (AKA THE BIGGEST HEIZUHA SUPPORTERS OUT THERE)

I'll be honest, at first I planned to include only Kazuha & Heiji in this but then I started looking for scenes in the manga and got obliterated by my love for the 4 of them. (And yes, I know I already did Heiji & Shinichi in the previous ask, I love them, sue me. Also, i wanted to count "Not dating but married nonetheless" for Heizuha BC THEY ARE, but this ended up as a 4 character thing so. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

To make it short: I FREAKING ADORE THEM.

In more detail: Heiji-Kazuha AND Shinichi-Ran both come in sets, DO NOT SEPARATE THEM. Then you put them all together THEY MAKE A WHOLE SET, A UNIT, A SQUAD.

But also there are different combinations: The Detectives And Cursed Bad Luck Duo, The Superstitious Girl Duo, The Not Dating But Married Couple, THE DATING HUSBAND AND WIFE DUO, THE SEPARATE TRIO COMBOS. *RIPS OF CLOTHES AND ROARS* ALL SO VERY GOOD.

THEY ARE JUST SO PRECIOUS TO ME, and they are just So- *CLENCHES FIST* THE BACK AND FORTH TEASING IN ALL KINDS OF COMBINATIONS, THE RUNNING INSIDE JOKE MOMENTS OF KAZUHA SAYING SHINICHI SOLVES CASES FASTER THAN HEIJI (TO HEIJI'S ETERNAL ANNOYANCE), OR HOW THE GIRLS THINK HEIJI AND SHINICHI/CONAN ARE LIKE BROTHERS-

BUT ALSO BEING A WITNESS TO ALL THE WEIRD CONAN-THINGS, OR HOW THE BOYS BOND OVER THEIR LOVE FOR THEIR GIRLS AND THE GIRLS BONDING OVER THEIR LOVE FOR THEIR BOYS, AND BEING THE BIGGEST SUPPORTERS OF EACH OTHER'S HAPPINESS (CONFESSING FEELINGS TO THEIR BELOVEDS).

MY BI ICON KAZUHA, NOT TO MENTION RAN'S CONFESSION IN KANSAI-BEN I'M FERAL, THESE GIRLS LOVE AND CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER (and the boys too, but more on that later) SO DEEPLY, IT'S ENDEARING.

RAN LITERALLY, ON HER SECOND MEETING WITH KAZUHA, NOT ONLY SEEING SHE IS UPSET, BUT ALSO GOING OUT OF HER WAY TO CHEER HER UP I'M!!! BEST GIRL!!! TRULY AN ANGEL!!! (Ya really are a nice girl, Ran, I CONCUR.)

THEN OF COURSE WE CANNOT NOT MENTION THE OSAKAN DUO. THEY ARE SO COMFORTABLE AROUND EACH OTHER, it's one of my favourite things, so UNABASHED WITH EACH OTHER IN WAY. They are (not dating BUT) MARRIED YOUR HONOUR, they really are like an old married couple.

Honestly, I Just keep THINKING of them all BECAUSE THEY ARE SO DEAR, I'M SCREAMING-

Also, it's so rarely mentioned but (because there is just so little of it in canon WHICH IS A CRIME, GET ON THE CASE BOYS) SHINICHI/CONAN-KAZUHA IS ESPECIALLY PRECIOUS TO ME, they have such great potential. Every time I SEE THEM INTERACT EVEN FOR A SECOND I GO APESHIT, ABSOLUTELY BONKERS. There is just something about Shinichi calling her "Kazuha" and "Kazuha-chan", the possibility of them BONDING OVER THEIR BELOVEDS AND YEARS OF PINING (because both Heiji and Ran can so oblivious it's endearing) but also bonding over HOW STUPID HEIJI IS AT TIMES, but also how much they both care for him and Ran. My dream is to see Kazuha make/get Shinichi a protective charm (let's be honest, hE NEEDS IT, and Heiji's seems to be sorta effective). There is a parallel there (now only if I could find the post for it). Also Shinichi not only being OK with Kazuha picking him up (LETTING HER!!!) BUT ALSO BEING FINE WITH KAZUHA HOLDING HIM!!! (FOR A WHOLE CONVERSATION!!!)

Also, ShinRan sharing that braincell.

I hope you enjoyed this wild rambling ride, dear Anon, and thank you for asking, I HAD SO MUCH FUN!!! May you have a blessed day, darling!

[jinnie-ret]

heatstroke

stray kids x ninth member!reader

genre: fluff, angst

content warnings: heat stroke, vomiting

word count: 1.9k

summary: y/n suffers from heat stroke on the day of their performance at lollapalooza

As voted by you!

It's finally here! Sorry it took me a while to post this after the poll ended, but I hope you enjoy!

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

They had made it to Paris. Y/N couldn't believe how big the crowd would be for their performance at the festival 'Lollapalooza'. The sun was shining, and all she wanted to do was fully appreciate the nice weather. Although, where there was a Changbin, there was always chaos.

"Hwang Hyunjin!" Changbin called from opposite Y/N in his deck chair.

"Why do you keep calling me? Wae? Wae. Wae?" Hyunjin loomed over Changbin in a hoodie and sunglasses, wondering why the older member wanted his attention.

"Jinnie how are you wearing a hoodie right now? The sun's out, it's boiling," Y/N raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's not that hot," he shook his head at her, probably side eyeing her from behind his shades.

Each to their own, Y/N thought.

Somehow they came onto the topic of noodles but Y/N wasn't really fussed, she had ramen all the time back home.

She was more trying to relax, and she couldn't help but fall asleep from the comforting warmth of the French sunshine.

"Y/Nnie, wake up, you look like a tomato," Jeongin shook her awake, and as she became fully aware she realised her arms and neck was feeling quite hot.

Shit, she forgot her sun cream.

"You good? Your arms are so red," Chan peered at her, concerned.

"Mmm, my neck feels hot too," Y/N sits up in the deck chair, brushing her hair back so the boys could see.

"Aish that sunburn looks bad, you should have put on some suncream," Felix lightly brushes his finger over her red arm, making her wince.

"Gosh, I'm going to look like a tomato when we perform," Y/N laughs as she looks down at her arms.

"At this rate you won't just look like a tomato, you'll look like the whole garden," Lee Know smirks, proud of his joke.

"Ha, ha, very funny Lee Know," Y/N pats his cheek in a jokingly patronising way, smiling back at him.

"You need to take better care of yourself, Y/N," Chan looked over her, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry Channie, I just wanted to enjoy the nice weather," Y/N pouted.

"You do realise you can get skin cancer if you burn too much?" Seungmin pointed out, taking a sip of water from his bottle.

"Yah, Seungmin don't say things like that I'll get paranoid," Y/N whacks his arm lightly.

"Hey I'm just saying, your skin will age faster too," Seungmin shrugged.

"I'll look like an old woman next to you guys and I'm the youngest!" Y/N laughed, Han appearing with aloe vera out of nowhere and gently rubbing it into her skin, letting out quiet apologies when she winced.

"That's why I'm helping you, don't want you to look like a 60 year old next to us whilst we still look the same," Han laughed loudly.

"Haha, that would look kinda funny though," Y/N laughed at the thought. Perhaps she'd look like grandma I.N with the rest of the group alongside her.

"You know what else would be funny?" Changbin wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"What?" Y/N asked curiously, shifting her body to stand and face him.

"To see you dancing on stage like a tomato, everyone going crazy because of how big and red you are," Changbin maniacally giggled.

The boys burst out laughing at the statement and Y/N's face.

"Huh? Big?!" Y/N gasped laughing.

"I was talking about your cheeks, they're really big and red right now," Changbin laughed, waving his hands in defense of how what he said had sounded.

"Haha, I'll introduce myself like, hi! This isn't Y/Nnie, I'm tomato today!" Y/N put on her stage voice, pretending to introduce herself to her fans.

The members all laugh at her, Jeongin walking up to her and tickling her sides.

"Hey! Are you the new mascot for ketchup?" he cheekily grinned, eyes disappearing through his smile.

"Yah! Jeongin!" Y/N guffawed from his remark.

"Ah, our tomato is blushing so much," Lee Know pats her head smirking.

"Stop, stop," Y/N waves them away.

"Haha, seriously though, come inside the tent for a bit, you should stay out of the sun," Chan guided her into their tent where they were setup before their performance.

"Yeah it's not like we're performing until a few hours anyways," Lee Know nodded, as they all sat around inside.

"Aish, I'm tired," Y/N laid her head down in Han's lap, his hand brushing through her hair out of habit.

"You were literally just napping," Hyunjin raised a brow at her.

"Yeah but..." Y/N closed her eyes feeling relaxed at the familiar feeling.

"Drink some water first," Hyunjin put a bottle of water with a straw in it to her face.

Still with her eyes shut she took a sip and then relaxed. It wasn't until a couple of hours later that she was woken up and ushered to the stylists and makeup artists to get ready.

The crowd was insane. And really, they were the only thing keeping her going as she could feel her energy depleting. She didn't notice the glances from the boys throughout the performance, occasionally spotting her swaying yet she still managed to keep her vocals stable as they performed Superbowl for the first time ever, and Item for the second time ever.

The euphoria running through her veins began to leave her once they reached backstage. With a smile she listened to Felix end their set to hype the crowd with Seven Nation Army. But she couldn't help her slumped figure as she sat down after her desperate search for a chair.

"You good, Y/Nnie?" Chan patted her shoulder, trying to get her attention.

"Hot," Y/N panted, tugging at the collar of her leather jacket that she had been fitted with for the stage performance.

"Take it off then," Changbin helped her shake it off, now feeling concerned at her heavily sweating state.

"What's going on with Y/N?" some of the other members asked as they walked over.

"Ugh, my head," she groaned, now leant forward as she gripped onto her knees for some stability.

"Have some water, silly," Seungmin encouraged her to take his own, yet her shaky hand wasn't very reassuring to the others.

"Y/Nnie, you can't even hold onto it, are you dizzy? What's the matter?" Felix poured out questions, worried about the state she was in.

"Mmm," Y/N nods, as Jeongin helps her sip from the water bottle.

"Ah that's not good," Hyunjin shakes his head, frowning.

"Here, come on, let's get you relaxed somewhere else," Changbin helps her stand, yet as her body becomes upright she stumbles, Lee Know helping to support her balance.

Y/N suddenly tears up, feeling scared about how she was feeling. It was all too overwhelming, and everything felt too hot.

"C-can't feel my arms," Y/N whimpered as tears fell down her cheeks, the boys murmuring amongst themselves worriedly.

"You can't feel your arms?" Felix asked, a scared look on his face, and that made Y/N feel worse, she didn't want the boys to be stressed out for her sake.

"I'm sorry, I..." Y/N trailed off, still panting as she was guided back to her chair, the boys deciding it was for the better for her to rest for now where she was, instead of moving her somewhere else.

"You're okay. Everything is going to be ok, sweetheart, we've got you, yeah?" Chan hushed her soothingly, Han rubbing her back in small circles.

"Should we call a medic?" Jeongin asked, eyes wide with uneasiness.

"Yes, good idea, Innie," Lee Know nodded at him, as they both went to look for some help.

"Y/N, you're ok, you're going to be ok," Hyunjin quietly comforted her, a light grip on her hand as he knelt down beside her.

Y/N groaned again from her headache getting worse.

"Where are those medics?" Changbin asked, looking around frustratedly with his hands on his hips, wondering what was taking so long.

"Don't... worry... don't waste... on me..." Y/N could barely get her words out, especially as a wave of nausea overcome her.

"Yah, it's not a waste, you're clearly not well right now Y/N," Han looked sullen, now fanning her face with a piece of paper he had found.

"S-sorry... ugh, feel... sick," she mumbled dizzily, slumped in the chair.

"You feel sick?" Hyunjin worried.

"I'm gonna... ugh," Y/N, with all her willpower, lifted herself out of the chair, yet it wasn't enough to keep her standing as she collapsed to her knees on the ground and threw up whatever was in her system. The boys were unable to catch her and yelled out as she fell.

"Y/N! Shit!" Changbin held her against him.

"Where are the medics?!" Chan yelled angrily, stress consuming him as their maknae was on the ground.

"Ah, ugh, I'm, ah I'm sorry," Y/N whimpered, tears running down her face from her own panic and the feeling of throwing up.

"You don't have to be sorry, it's ok, just take a deep breath," Han held her hair back, looking around at the boys with his eyes shining with his own tears as he feared she wouldn't be ok.

Y/N threw up again, gasping for breath.

"Is that all of it?" Hyunjin whispered from beside them, Y/N tearily nodding as she slumped back in Changbin's arms, feeling dazed.

Lee Know and Jeongin suddenly rushed over with the medics, both of them seeming angry.

"Finally! Where were they?!" Chan asked them, sighing disappointedly.

"Packing up, they were ready to go even though we only just finished performing," Lee Know gritted his teeth as the medics lifted Y/N onto a stretcher and took her through to a medical room, much cooler with air conditioning blasting through the room.

They held a wet cloth against her forehead and against her burns to try and lower her body temperature. The boys couldn't do anything but wait anxiously as they saw their youngest laying down and getting treated.

"Her temperature is dropping, that's a good sign," the medic said out loud to the boys.

Half an hour had passed and Y/N was now more aware of her surroundings, the medics clearing that she could head back to the hotel with the boys, telling them that if her condition worsens again that they need to call an ambulance immediately.

"I'm sorry," Y/N sleepily muttered as they helped her into the company cars.

"Don't apologise, we were more concerned about you," Seungmin informed her, an arm wrapped around her waist as he and Hyunjin guided her into the back of the car.

"That's why I feel bad," Y/N bit her lip.

"It's ok, you can rest now, don't worry about it ok? I know it's easier said than done but we'll make sure you're ok, and we're doing that because we care about you, yeah?" Chan said from the front seat.

"Ok, ok," she yawned, head leaning against Hyunjin's shoulder.

Once they arrived back at the hotel they didn't let her stay in her own room, as she instead was looked after by Lee Know and Jeongin in another, the two of them making sure she was relaxed and not too hot as they kept the air conditioning on. It may have felt a bit cold for them at one point but they didn't mind, they'd do anything for her. All of the boys would.

tagged: @skz-streamer @oo-li

[websterss]

A LOVE SO TRUE — GUILDFORD DUDLEY

REQUEST: A request for Guildford Dudley x fem verity reader, in which they are married and Guildford can control his Ethian form, but she doesn’t know that he is Ethian yet. She gets sick and discovers that is pregnant but doesn’t tell him and Guildford is worried about her. Just to highlight they have married for love and they are so in love with each other. Something like this, I just can’t get enough of the series haha.

WARNING(S): angst and fluff, mentions of being nauseous, mentions of being pregnant, missed cycle, also if you have emetophobia I wouldn't suggest reading this.

WORD COUNT: 4,454

PAIRING: Guildford Dudley x Verity!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

"There, there now. Better out than in My Lady…" You coughed and then heaved as you bent over a bucket. Bertie, yours and Guildford's servant holding your hair back and rubbing your back in soothing circles. You were ill. It was the only possible explanation. You were ill perhaps with a stomach bug. Perhaps poisoned at your family feast. That could have been it, you were certain of it. You hadn't been able to keep the remnants of your meals in your stomach lately. "I shall fetch a doctor, my lady. Your state of health has not improved. It has been a week." Bertie helps you upright. Your face flushed with beads of sweat. You silently thank her for the cloth to wipe against your lips.

"N-No, no, please. No doctor. I would rather not be poked and prodded with medical equipment. I-I am fine." In your weak attempts to gently send Bertie away, you sway in your step forward. Guildford caught you effortlessly before you could meet the harsh ground. "It will pass…" You inhale deeply. Your tired state did not bring him a calm state of mind.

"My lady, you are far from fine. This is the sixth time you have been sick this week." Bertie interjects gently. Guildford moves quickly to walk you back to your bedroom, he settles and tucks you back under the covers, placing a hand on your forehead.

"Gods you're burning up. It will not simply pass, it seems to be getting worse. You are feverish, constantly vomiting, and…you're tired, my love." Guildford did not bother to hide the concern etched on his features.

"I-I'm fine, truly." You attempt to protest weakly but fail as another wave of nausea hits you. You cover your mouth just as Guildford quickly grabs a nearby bucket, placing it between you just as you retch into it. He shakes his head, discomforted by your worsened condition.

"I'm sending for Jane." He tilts his head to firmly meet your eyes. Your timid stare submits to his determined look. "I'll retrieve her myself if I need to. If you won't see a doctor then you'll see her. You love and trust Jane more than anyone else, my love. You'll see her because I cannot bear to see you suffering anymore." He lifts your head up to place a tender kiss on your temple.

"Please. Don't make a fuss over this. It is only a stomach bug surely. It will end soon..." Guildford's heart breaks a little with your protestations. He knows you're scared and trying to hide it behind a facade of stubborn nonchalance.

"You are ill. I will not sit back and watch you get worse. You are stubborn but you're not a fool, love. You know this is not just a stomach bug. You're terrified. I can see that." He cups your face gently. He lets out a sigh as he studies your sweaty, flushed face. His hand caresses the side of your cheek affectionately as he silently prays that you'll get better soon.

"Will you at least rest in bed while I fetch Jane?" He implores softly after a moment of silent contemplation. "You are over-exerting yourself. As your loving and scared husband, I command you to not leave this room." His failed attempt to sound serious falters as you meet his gaze with a raised brow. "...please."

The stubborn streak in you wished to protest, to insist you were alright, that there was no need. However, you could not. You were tired, exhausted from all the vomiting and aching, and in all honesty, your illness was beginning to scare you a little. There was no strength left in you to argue. You simply give him a small nod before collapsing against him heavily. Your head on his chest. His hands curling around your hair pressing you to him.

"It has been a week. You are in no condition to be up and about at this time. It has to be serious. If your nkt slightly better by tomorrow, I'll be fetch someone other than Jane to have a look at you. You will not protest. You will not." He pulls away and cups your face. His expression softened a bit at your pitiful appearance. Your eyes sunken in with dark circles, your hair untamed. He goes to lean in but your hand stops him in place. He huffs then settles with a kiss against your cheek, another softly laid on your neck. You sigh in contentment at his affection. "I should be back in half a day's worth." He fluffs up your pillow and tucks you underneath the cover. He places the bucket alongside the edge of the bed, within your reach to fetch with ease. "I love you..." He kisses your head.

"And I, you." You muster a faint smile but it's the fear-stricken warriness and tears that tell him enough.

He presses a palm against your cheek, gently wiping a tear that falls down your face. He retracts it without another word other than. "Take care of her, Bertie."

"She's in good care, Lord Guildford." With a swift exit, Guildford's footsteps grow distant.

Bertie bows and watches as Guildford closes the bedroom door behind him. With you now tucked in bed, and your husband's worried features no longer in sight, you drop the pretense of being fine. You turn to your side and sob into your pillow.

Bertie walks over and sits on the bed by you. A sympathetic look on her face. She gently threads her fingers through your greasy hair. "He only does it because he cares for you." She says.

"I-I know…" Your tears don't stop as you continue to weep. Bertie continues to run her fingers through your hair in an attempt to soothe you, all the while shushing you quietly.

-

Guildford had kept his word. Only half a day's worth of traveling. The night turned into day rather quickly than you remembered. Bertie tended to you as you helplessly waited for him.

You could hear the horse that you both owned neigh in the distance. It had urged you to sit up in bed. The creature signals their arrival. You had yet to see the barn yourself. Guildford and Rupert had but all dissolved any ideas of you visiting the horse. Telling you to remain in the house. To the gardens, but never the barn, ensuring there was nothing but unpleasant welcomes from the beast itself. You did shiver at that. You could imagine your shoes stepping in something disgusting.

You didn't know where the newfound energy derived from but you were glad the nausea hadn't taken over your want to see your husband, to greet your friend upon their safe return. It was a mere thought of consciousness before you scurried to dress yourself into somewhat of a decent household lady. You hadn't concerned yourself much about your rat's nest of hair. Leaving it be in its wild manner. You had just about slipped your right shoe on before Bertie entered with a tray of breakfast.

"You should be resting!"

"I'm feeling much better Bertie-" You promised as your foot was now securely settled in its place.

"Nonsense come, get those shoes off your feet deary before the master sees ya-"

"That is what I venture out to seek Bertie. Guildford and Jane have returned and since I've never been to the barn. Well, I thought it best to accomplish two wishes in one venture rather than two, so don't mind me, Bertie. I'll be back in time to help set the table for breakfast. Surely the two of them or hungry and worked themselves an appet-"

"No, no, no, my lady!" Bertie's shrill shriek halts your words and feet. She carefully places the food down and stomps over to you. "You have been vomiting your body weight consistently for the past week and you wish to see a horse?? I thought you more clever than that." She grabs the comforter and begins to remove the old ones. “My Lady, I implore you to rest." Bertie's usually meek demeanor changed to a firm tone, the tray of food forgotten in favor of fixing up the bed. Guildford had specifically told her to take care of you. "Master Guildford will be very unhappy with me if he finds you in this state outside and he– My Lady you have not bled…"

"Pardon?" You whip around to face Bertie who removed the sheets from the bed to exchange them for new ones. "Bertie?" Your eyes fall onto the clean, non tainted sheets They were still white. Surely there had to be a reasonable explanation for why they were white. It was only just last month before that you bled. So why hadn't you- you hadn’t bled last month…

You had missed a month. No. It couldn’t be. Surely.

Bertie continues exchanging the blankets, but her eyes are fixed on the sheets in her hands. She was just as shocked as you. How many days have you missed? A few more? “My Lady…?”

“I’m with…child?” Your eyes linger with unspilled tears. Your hands and arms move independently, naturally placed upon your stomach. You look down at your nonexistent bump then up to Bertie.

Her hand came to her mouth in shock, her eyes widening to look into yours. The sheets fall from her hand and land on the floor. “-By the Gods-“ She scurries over to you and pulls you into an embrace. “My Lady-“ She exclaims, trying to keep her voice down. “We must have a real doctor come immediately. We must have a physician look you over. You have missed a month, my Lady. Perhaps two. This will not go unnoticed by the Master. We must tell him of the ne-”

“N-No.” You shake your head.

Bertie pulls away from the embrace. She grabs your forearms, the grip is nothing painful but you can tell she is attempting to keep you from swaying in place. “My Lady? Why not? This is the happiest of news. A child. A product of yours and Master Guildford’s love. Why would you want to keep this from him?”

“I… I don’t know. But I’d rather it be confirmed with Lady Jane than to give him false hope.” You give into her, in hopes she’ll believe you. You aren’t entirely sure you know the reason yourself for not wanting to tell him. You two were newly wedded. Surely he’d find your situation a damper on your honeymoon. Right?

Bertie considers this for a moment. You look exhausted. Not to mention you still were unwell and had lost all color to your face.

“I-“ She shakes her head. “Very well, we can confirm with Lady Jane first, then tell Master Guildford. But I beg of you, do not work yourself into the ground, my Lady. Allow me to do all the chores that require your energy. Do not lift a single thing.”

“Alright…” You muster a faint smile and nod before you grab your robe and head out of the room.

You begin your walk to the barn. The journey is long given the property is quite sizeable, and your legs almost buckle with every step you take. The thought of pregnancy was still reeling in your head, making your steps heavier. Your stomach churns with the feeling of nausea that still hasn’t gone away, and the nerves of the conversation you were about to have made you queasier. Would Guildford be thrilled? Would he want a child early into your marriage?

Finally, the large structure of the barn comes into view. As you get closer, you can hear the neigh of the horse growing louder with every step you take. The anxiety was building with every step. You were a mix of excitement and nervousness. You were about to speak upon swinging the barn door open but the voice of Jane fills your ears.

"We cannot keep hiding this from her Guildford. She is your wife and my dearest friend. I despise the idea of her remaining in the dark about this secret. If you won't tell her then I will!"

“-You will do no such thing!” Guildford rebuts defiantly, his usually calm nature quickly dissolving. You step closer to the barn doors and listen to their conversation that clearly was not meant for your ears. You hear Guildford release a tired and weary huff. His words are a whisper but they cut through the space. “This is my concern alone. I’ll talk to her about it later-” But he is interrupted by the firm tone of Jane.

“When will that be? Years from now? When she’s well and pregnant with your child?” Jane retorts, her voice stern. “This is not just your secret, Guildford. It involves your wife. Someone who deserves to know the truth about her own husband.” You wince at her words. The nausea feeling from before had returned.

“You are no better than me in this regard!” Guildford argued back. You can hear the agitation in his voice as it rises. “I want to tell her as much as you do. But given the state I have seen her in these last few days, I worry my words will bring more harm than good!”

A pause. You press against the cold wood of the barn door. Listening to the conversation unfolding inside. The muffled voices of your husband and your closest friend fill the space. Another huff from Guildford. “I don’t want to hurt her."

“And you won’t.” You hear Jane say. Her voice was calmer than before. “She’ll understand your circumstance. Your reasons. You underestimate her love for you.”

You sink your back into the wall as their voices grow closer to the door. “I love her, Jane. I’ve always loved her.” You hear Guildford exclaim. The door pushes wide open. You see him run his hands through his hair. He’s stressed. You can hear the strain in his voice. “But if I tell her. If she finds out what I am…” Your breath hitches in your throat. “…I’m afraid she won’t forgive me.”

You are stunned and stuck in place, leaning on the wall for support. You could sense the despair and anguish in Guildford’s words. It broke your heart, knowing he was holding something so deeply inside him, unable to tell you the truth. You want to step in, to confront the two, but your legs suddenly feel weaker than ever, a wave of nausea passing over your body.

"Make your way back to the house. Y/n should still be in bed for you to examine her. Let me know of her condition when I get back!" Guildford begins to walk.

“Where are you going?” You hear Jane inquire from inside the barn.

"I need to clear my head before I am to see her."

You hadn't expected what was to come next. You hadn't expected it at all. Your feet moved on its own accord as Guildford transformed into a….a horse. Your eyes widened in shock, in fear of the unknown and what presented itself before you. No longer was your husband, now stood a brown beautiful steed. "Guildford…?"

The sight was almost incomprehensible. One moment, your husband was there, his back turned to you with his head in his hands, and the next- there stood a horse. A magnificent, tall chestnut steed whose body stood where Guildford once did. You wanted to move. To yell out. But the shock rooted you to the spot. Only your thoughts raced around your mind.

You take another step forward, trying to keep your balance and regain your breath. Your head was spinning with all the information you took in. Guildford is different. A creature. Something otherworldly who was afraid of hurting you.

Guildford, or rather, the horse, perks their head up towards you. His ears are alert and focused in your direction. You couldn't read his expression. A neigh ripples out of him as he steps closer to you. Your legs were trembling even more now, threatening to give out any second. Before you know it your knees met the ground harshly. You gasp as Jane and Guildford react quickly.

“Y/n!” Jane comes in from behind you. But you were more entranced by the yellow hue and transformation of your husband. The horse had knelt on its front legs before your husband's face was in your line of sight once again.

“I…I don’t understand.” You whisper, your hands reaching out to caress his face. He places his palms over yours keeping them steady and close. He nestles into your palms.

He tries to speak but stumbles over his words, shocked by your presence. His eyes darted over your body. You looked terrible. Your hair was in disarray, and with eyes, tired and red. Yet you were the most beautiful thing in his eyes, but you looked as if you could fall over with just a gentle nudge. One of his palms slipped and touched your stomach. You shuddered at the feeling. He then touched your face with his other palm.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his warm hand touched your cheeks. It was soft and smooth, yet calloused with years of experience and swordplay. His gaze was intense, but something in his eyes showed him to be conflicted. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, as if in confusion. He had so much to say to you but just didn’t know how to. "My love…won't you say something?”

You can't tear your eyes from him. You were supposed to be resting in bed, tending to the nausea that had plagued you. Yet here you were, in the barn, staring at your husband who had somehow transformed into a horse. You see his eyes dart across your face, studying every feature of yours. He was afraid. Terrified of your response.

You wanted to say so much. You wanted to yell at him. To hit him. To cry and ask him why he would keep such a secret to himself. But looking into his eyes, all you saw was the pain that was within their depths. All you saw was the love he had for you. "I-" You attempt to say but the nausea in your belly suddenly makes an appearance. Bile rises in the back of your throat. The familiar taste of acid burned your tongue.

You feel the contents of your stomach travel back up your throat. Guildford’s eyes widen in fear at the realization of what’s coming. He knows what's about to happen. He moves to grab you, to hold your hair out of your face but you turn your head away to the side and vomit on the ground.

Tears spill down your face as you lean back against him for support. Guildford brushes back your hair. Shushing and reassuring you that everything is all right. "I think I'm pregnant…and you're Ethian." You exhale deeply. Closing your eyes for a moment's worth of rest.

Both Guildford and Jane are stunned into silence. Neither of them knows what to say. The air is filled with a heavy density. You can feel Guildford behind you, his hands still around your face. You try to make eye contact, and he turns you back around to face him. “You’re…pregnant? With…With our child?” He asks hesitantly. The question was posed almost as if he couldn’t believe that you said it.

"You've kept your Ethianism a secret this entire time..." You muster. Your fingers trace across his bottom lip. Guildford places a kiss on your fingertips in response.

Guildford looks down in shame. “I-Yes, I did.” He looks up again, his expression pleading. “I was afraid that if you found out, you’d detest me. That you would be revolted at who I truly was.” He reaches out again, to caress your face. "My love, you just said you might be pregnant…you are with child?"

You want to cry, to scream, to laugh hysterically. But Guildford’s words ring through your ears and you can tell the desperation and worry behind them. You could also see his surprise at just how calm your demeanor currently was. The situation was so absurd. You weren't even sure how to feel right now. "Bertie…she believes so." You daze off. "My sheets were still white this morning...It appears I've missed my monthly bled." Guildford huffed in disbelief, but his expression never faltered with delight.

You feel him lean his head down to rest his forehead against yours. His breaths mix with yours making you dizzy, yet you want to relish in the moment of him being so close. He pulls you in against him, his arms wrapping around you, a kiss against your cheek displaying his love, his affection for you. He’s warm and familiar. Home. “You’re with child...” He whispers again into your hair, his voice shaky and thick with emotion.

His hands brush your hair away from your face and neck, his lips placing soft kisses against your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw. The warm breath you feel against your skin is a comfort. You can't help but feel small though, can't help the fear that stirs within you. "You're not upset over the news?"

Your question halts his kisses that were on your skin. You feel him pull away just so he can look at you. “Upset? How could I be upset? This is a gift, a blessing.” He says with disbelief lacing his words. His hands never leave your face, keeping you angled at him. You can see the tears welling at the corners of his eyes. "I am overjoyed. Overjoyed beyond belief." He replies, his voice shaky with emotion. "I love you." He declares just like he's done time and time again.

"And I, you." Tears prickle from your eyes now.

He is taken by your reaction. Guildford pulls you closer to him. You could hear the rapid beat of his heart against your ear. “I don’t deserve you.” He mumbles into your shoulder. You can tell he means it, but you scoff at the absurd statement. Pulling away slightly, looking directly at him with intense determination behind your eyes. "Are you upset with me, for not telling you I'm Ethian?"

"No. I am just sorry you couldn't find the comfort you sought out, with me, enough for you to tell me. I'm not mad you could find that comfort in telling Jane." You reassure them with a timid smile. You glance over to Jane, extending your hand out for her to grasp.

Jane looks at you dumbfounded. She expected yelling. She expected screaming, tears, and sobs. Yet you had said nothing more than a few words. You were calm. Jane grabs your outstretched hand, giving it a warm and comforting squeeze. The air is still filled with a sense of uneasiness but she offers a kind smile.

Guildford pulls away. You feel his hands leave your body and you suddenly feel very alone without them. You suddenly become afraid that he’s going to leave.

"I should have told you." He exhaled deeply, the words coming out more like a statement of fact than an apology. "I should have told you. I knew it wasn’t fair to you. But I was afraid of your reaction. Afraid of what you might think of me. Afraid of how you might look at me, knowing that deep down I was a beast." He confesses, and you feel a tug at your heart as his words ring in your ears. "I should have known better…'cause even after knowing, you aren't afraid of me. You still look at me with love. You are the most fearless, stubborn, determined, strong, beautiful woman I know.” He reaches out to hold your face in his hands once more. "You are my wife, my love. The woman carrying our child. And you don’t look at me any differently. You don’t run in fear. Yet I did. I was a fool to think you’d detest me. That the news would disgust you. But here you are as beautiful and sweet and loving as you have always been. You forgive me in a heartbeat.” He runs his thumb across your cheeks to wipe away the tears that had spilled down your face, but new ones had formed at his words.

"You are a fool." You breathe out a laugh. As you place your hands over his to keep them in place.

"Well, I for one, second it!" Ah yes, Jane was still here. You breathe out a laugh as you both turn to look at her. She raises her hand in greetings, knowing you'd forgotten about her, but she was well alright with it. She adored Guildford's love declaration for you. "Guildford you continue to surprise me with your poetic...dialect."

Guildford rolls his eyes. He was used to being teased and ridiculed by his best friend. His hands grip yours tight as he moves closer to you again. His fingers intertwine with yours. He brings your knuckles up to kiss them softly. "My love, I think it best to head to the house. Let Jane give you a proper examination, for certainty."

You nod in agreement, your mind already spinning at the thoughts swirling through your mind. You were with child. With Guildford’s child. You were carrying the next heir of the Dudley line.

Guildford offers his arm for you to hold on to, and you gladly take it. He leads you over to the house, with Jane in tow behind. The walk to the house was quiet. No one spoke, everyone was too wrapped up in their thoughts to even try. You felt Guildford rub his thumb over the back of your hand. He occasionally looks at you with a smile, as if he can’t believe everything that just happened. You feel his hands constantly squeeze yours. The gesture was his way of reassuring you.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I was hoping you would say that..."

Guildford stops in his tracks, causing you to stop as well. He turns to look at you. He brings his hand up to the side of your face, the pad of his thumb caressing your lower lip. "I could never leave you. Not in a millennium."

“I'd hope not.” You breathe a laugh. Your smile graced him. Your eyes crinkle at the corners. He can’t help but mirror yours.

As you arrive at the front door, Guildford opens it for you, letting you and Jane walk in first. He looks at you with a smile before following you through, closing the door promptly behind him. “You’re stuck with me, love.”

[starrvsn]

` ִ ꔫ ۫ ⊹ D.HUME ࣪ ˖ VICTORY BLISS.

﹙ MOVIE/FANDOM ⠆THE BOYS IN THE BOAT ﹚

PAIRING ⠆don hume x fem!reader.

CATEGORIES ⠆fluff!, lil bit of angst- drama for no reason.. for the plot HAHA, shy!don, slight ooc with the boys, don going through it, the reader is lovely i swear, the guys being the #1 supporters of don, bobby being his #1 protector, sassy!bobby, bobby’s kinda mean in this but he means well i swear!

WORD COUNT ⠆4,613 (fun!)

star left a message! this was actually my first draft i had of don and i finally came around to finishing it! this came out much longer than i expected but i hope you enjoy~!

𝟒𝟏𝟏. don finally garners the courage to ask out the girl he's had his eyes on since the beginning of the semester.

"don! hey! so how you gon' celebrate?" bobby calls, jogging up next to him. the faint sounds of the other guys’ voices behind them, they had just come back from germany and all still high from the victory bliss. don had just gotten over a horrible fever, thanks to the guys he didn't think he'd be able to row– and be there when winning gold. now that it's over, they want to celebrate as much as they can, take advantage of a golden opportunity.

"er, not sure— sleep it off maybe." don utters, stuffing his hands in his pockets as they walk further onto campus— towards their dorms, completely exhausted from traveling. the fact that they won olympic gold hadn't hit him yet and with their victory banquet in a few days time, maybe it would hit him then. the shorter man scoffs jumping in front of the taller, stopping him abruptly in his tracks.

"oh come on don, you gotta celebrate! you know soon enough girls are gonna be at your feet." bobby attests, arms flailing about in attempt to prove his point. don finds it almost comedic at how desperately bobby is trying to get through him, trying to hold back his laugh— he lets out "so?"

bobby squints his eyes looking a don incredulously "so? this time right now is your best shot— its now or never."

don could hardly speak to anyone, let alone girls— it became what he was known for. he didn't hate it because it was true, there was no room to deny it— it was just easier to manage, less to worry about but he could see where bobby was getting at, finally the narrative of seizing the moment getting through his thick skull after the many attempts of the team encouraging him to talk to girls more, so maybe this was it.

“i-i’ll think about it.” don nods, almost unsure of himself, he wasn't sure if he was saying it to satisfy his friend or to give himself some sort of encouragement. digging his hands deeper into his pants pockets. bobby’s face softens and he gives the taller male an optimistic smile, patting him encouragingly on his arm before joining the rest of the group. don heaves a sigh before continuing — his thoughts weigh his options for the rest of his walk to the dorms.

don mulls over what do over the course of a few days, with their banquet in a few days he knew had to do something soon. he had many ideas but one just kept coming back to him so he is putting all his chips in on this, hoping he doesn’t crash and burn.

don was nervous, he tossed and turned in bed just thinking about this. his heart beating loudly in his ears and almost out of his chest— he was sure people in the common room could hear it. he looks down at his feet, counting his steps as he approaches your table—trying not vomit from how on edge he was feeling. the words from bobby echoing in his head "this time is your best shot—its now or never."

taking a deep breath, he takes his gaze from his shoes to you. words couldn't describe how you looked, the sunlight peering through the window reflecting beautifully on your features making you look ethereal. he was enamored.

you were in the same physics lecture, you always sat two rows in front of him. he would catch himself drifting his eyes to the back of you head when the lecture got boring or when you turned to talk to your classmate, showing him your pretty side profile. he knew he was infatuated when you were paired during a lab and while don barely spoke– not even introducing himself. you were polite, nice and smart, a perfect trifecta. you always knew what to say and was so patient with him when you had asked him something and he didn’t respond right away. most times when he wouldn’t respond, people would get impatient or just brush him off; ignoring him completely. it was nice for someone to treat him with respect besides the guys on crew for a change.

breaking from his reverie, he realizes he’s stood before your table longer than he initially wanted to and yet you still haven’t noticed, to absorbed in your studies. don almost feels bad for interrupting and the thought of him just walking away and trying again some other day— or never crosses his mind but before he can even make up his mind, you finally notice.

"don! hi!" a soft smile peering at your lips as you stop writing, looking up at him. don's eyebrows jump in surprise, taken aback that you know him. a lump forms in his throat unsure what to say, awkwardly avoiding your gaze.

"yo-you know me?" letting his thoughts continue the conversation. he watches as you laugh- shaking your head for a moment before collecting yourself.

"it's hard to not know the stroke that won us a gold medal." you respond, voice laced with praise.

dons hand shoots up to the nape of his neck, flustered. "well i wouldn't say it was just me, it was all of us." he immediately denies, a faint blush glowing on his cheeks.

“i must give credit where it’s do, i mean you guys must’ve been amazing! well from what i heard on the radio at least.” you boast. his heart swells with pride hearing you sound so elated with how well they did— how well he did, in berlin. he felt his heart swell as you told him. his mouth runs dry as he tries to find the right words to continue the conversation and he kind of kicks himself for letting silence fall between the two of you. you speak up insisting you join him at your table, closing your books and putting them aside. he sits across from you, taking in your features that he thought about from time to time when he was away. you scoot you chair further in, knocking your foot against his, a shock coursing through him– no has ever made him feel this way.

“tell me about berlin, i heard you were feeling under the weather over there.” you start, quirking your head in curiosity awaiting his response. clearing his throat, don gathers his words.

“uh— yeah, it was an otherworldly experience. i never been out of country, out of state even but it was definitely different. an experience i would never forget” you can see his face brighten from talking about it, he speaks so descriptively about his time there it feel like you were there with him. “i was sick with some kind of bug. it was a grueling few days but was worth it after winning. it was amazing! i would do it all again if i had to.” you offhandedly realize that this was probably the most you’ve ever heard him speak and you find him so endearing as he spoke, he was so expressive when he was talking about something he was so passionate about and you loved it. you watch as he goes on about the olympics and the number of athletes he saw compete, you head rests on your hand watching him with attentive eyes letting him continue with his ventures.

minutes pass from dons tales and he realizes that he got lost in speaking about the olympics and droned on and on about it , he felt selfish for taking such time to talk about the most trivial of things— or so he thought.

“'m so sorry, i must’ve talked your ear off.” don cuts in the middle of a story he was telling, as he realized what he was doing. feeling guilty as he casts his eyes to his hands, falling quiet again. what he doesn't see is the small frown that casts on your face, your heart pangs at the thought of him thinking that what he was talking about wasn’t important, looking so dejected. a moment passes as he fiddles with his hands then he sees your hand coming into view clasping his. he raised his gaze and he sees you looking at him with a comforting smile smile.

“it’s okay, i like hearing your voice. i could listen to you talk all day” the compliment was simple but made his heart skip a beat. it’s now or never don gulps, his calloused hand encasing yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, you can tell he has something on his mind and he could take all the time in the world to say it and you would wait. “would you want to come to the victory banquet with me? it's in a few days.” his voice is timid and small, if the room was any louder you wouldn’t be able to hear what he said.

you face brightens at his proposal, accepting without a moment passing “i would love to.”

the next few days passes with a blur as don and the rest of the team were whisked away to do interviews and photoshoots on their ground breaking win. it all happened so fast and before they knew it; it was already the night of the banquet.

you had promised don you’d meet outside of your dormitory so you could walk together to the hall. he gets there a bit earlier than you were promised to meet, he was nervous— maybe that being the reason he didn't want to be late and have you waiting outside for him. a cool summer breeze passing through as he leans against the brick ledge accenting the dorm building, soon moments turn into minutes and it crosses don's mind that you might have stood him up.

the thought makes him feel hopeless, pulling up his sleeve to reveal his art deco watch- a gift from coach ulbrickson, it was 6:40. 10 minutes had passed since your agreed meeting time. soon 10 turns into 20, he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt but you made him feel like a fool— embarrassed that he stood outside of the girls dormitory looking like some kind of perv. he rubs the back of his neck in frustration as he pushes himself off the brick wall, ready to leave. a part of him wants to wait— the part of him that hopes you lost track of time and were rushing out to him but to no avail. even in the moment more he waits, he ends up leaving with his heart heavy and pride wounded.

he thought you weren't like the rest. he was so sure you were different from the people who gave him odd looks or comments on how quiet he was. it makes him wonder if you even meant anything in the library that day, weighing heavy on his mind as he walks to the banquet, alone and dejected.

don was acting quieter than usual.

which, for anyone who wasn't close with don wouldn't have noticed but the guys on crew— who he spent almost everyday with, noticed. it was abundantly clear as they sat around the table at the banquet enjoying their dinner. usually don would laugh along with the jokes being made, react to when someone was telling a story— it was a small tells that he was having a good time but there was none of that. he sat in his seat— eyes casted down on his plate, pushing around his peas. there was something obviously on his mind; the guys could tell. they pass knowing glances around each other, unanimously decided they just had to know what was wrong.

"hey don, you okay?" joe speaks up besides don. he has a blank stare down his plate, lost in his thoughts not paying attention to the current conversation at hand. "don?" joe calls again, nudging his arm against don's, snapping him from his reverie. looking over at joe like a deer caught in headlights.

"i said are you okay?" joe repeats himself, his mates looking at him with concerning gazes awaiting his answer.

"hm, yeah— 'm fine." don lamented, sounding like he was more trying to convince himself rather than his friends. they had wondered where he was before the banquet started and didn't see him until the dinner. bobby raises his worry for don, the other boys agreeing. don continues to deny but they weren't going to let it go. he should be enjoying winning gold at the olympics, something never done before in UW history— they didn't want whatever was on his mind to hinder that.

"come on don, you can trust us— whatever it is we'll understand, even give you advice if you need." roger speaks up this time, his voice laced with comfort. as much as the guys teased and joked, they truly cared about each other— after all the hardships they went through together, they stuck close. the quieter male was heavy with emotion and with a lot of his mind. he confines in them, a reluctant sigh passing through him as he tells them— he wonders what went through your head the day he spoke to you and the days leading up to tonight. he was excited to see you again, talk to you, get to know you even better but it was all thrown out the window when you flaked on him. don tries to not miss any details and by the end of his explanation, the boys were feeling a mix of emotions. some felt bad that don went through all that— going out of his element to ask out a girl he was interested in and other were upset that you'd have the balls to stand up someone with the purest intentions. it's hard to dislike someone who you've never met but after hearing what was weighing heavy on don's mind, bobby had made up his mind that he didn't like you. though he would never tell don but if he were to ever come across you, he'd be sure to give you a piece of his mind.

don doesn't see you as the days pass.

he continued to wonder how you were, what you could be going through. he couldn't bare the thought of something bad happening to you and as much as the guys tried to steer him away; his mind always came back to you. practice helps him take his mind of you for a few hours, he knew better than to slip up during their practices— their tireless efforts to get better never ceasing even after their win.

it was around evening time when practice ends. they’re tired; mentally and physically— it’s been a rough week in general. the last thing don expects is you standing at the entrance of the shell house, rocking on your heels. don stops dead in his tracks, his jaw slacks and heart drops. he doesn't notice bobby almost bumping into his whilst walking closely to catch up to him.

huffing, bobby was about to ask him what was the matter when he follows the line of sight of his friend, before either two of them could say anything— bobby is trudging towards you, don just letting him go, still shocked.

"are you y/n?" a man with cloudy blue eyes glares at you, he stands square; inches away from you. his presence intimidates you— you glower under his gaze unable to stand your ground. you can barely speak up against him.

"y-yes, is don around?" your eyes wander behind him and you see don standing a few feet back. you try to move around the man in front of you but he stops you.

"who the hell do you think you are huh?" he accuses, leaving no room for you to respond as he begins again "you charmed don and lead him on— you made him get his hopes up! you know i'm the one that encouraged him to take advantage of this *pure winners bliss* but you just had to come around and screw it up huh? made his biggest fear come true and for what—? to make don the laughing stock for your friends? he had the best intentions you know, all he wanted was for you to give him a chance and it was just flushed down the drain!” the man was fuming, unable to keep his voice level as his emotions got the best of him. soon the guys who were still getting dressed peeked out to see what all the commotion was about. a heavy silence falls between the two of you, tensions high. you feel small in front of him as he berated you about what happened with don. your eyes cast down, wringing your fingers as you tried to compose yourself.

don heard everything, watched as bobby yelled at you for everyone to hear— he should've stopped him, stopped him from even approaching you in the first place but he couldn't, he froze in his spot the second he saw you, he felt *awful*— what happened a few days ago on the back burner. it wasn't until it was over don suddenly gained feeling in his legs again. he hadn't felt this nervous since their race in the olympics. as he nears the two of you he hears you speak up. voice small and meek.

"i deserved that."

their coxswain huffs– brows furrowed “you know what you don’t deserve? his forgiveness because—“

“that’s enough bobby.” don rests his hand on his friends shoulder, motioning for him to go. bobby was hesitant but reluctantly, he leaves but not before giving you another glare. that leaves you with don, the resting frown on his face as he looks at you– you avoid his eyes, sheepish and feeling embarrassed for what happened. you didn't even know how to begin, you weren't sure if he would even listen to you, give you the time of day but you wouldn't know unless you tried.

“don i–“

“let’s take a walk hm?” he starts past you before you have a chance to reply, following after him as he walks down the port. there’s knots piling in his stomach as he walked ahead, his fists balled so tight in his pockets they began to feel numb, he had no idea how to go about this. he wasn’t even sure if he was ready to forgive you— but after seeing you get yelled at and berated by bobby, something inside him felt off. he couldn’t stay mad at you forever, the least he could do is hear you out.

the water splashing against the wooden beams of the deck fills the silence as don stops at the end, his back facing you. hands stuffed in his pockets and heart heavy. he didn’t say anything as moments pass so you take it as your cue to speak.

“don… i know i have no place in apologizing but i’m sorry and i understand if you never want to talk to me or forgive me for what i did” you pause for moment, watching his back– waiting for him to say something but you’re met with silence so you continue.

“i-i really wanted to go with you, i did! i was looking forward to it all week… i had a dressed picked out and everything! but when the day came—" you fault for a moment, your hands fiddling with your sleeves. eyes cast down "m-my parents called and my sister got into an accident… i went home for a couple of days and the whole time i was there; i just felt horrible for leaving you, and knowing how much i hurt you. i would make it up to you any way i can if you let me…”

the silence was deafening, you try your best from losing composure and crying on the spot. overcome with emotion— the silence was killing you as you waited for don to say something, anything— he could tell you he didn’t want to see you ever again and that would be enough for you.

"is your sister alright?" you let out a sound of surprise when he asked, doe eyes looking at him. he’s turned around now– the sun setting a glow that illuminates against his figure. you eyes focus on his face, nose slightly red from the cold.

"yes, she's perfectly fine now." you nod, wringing your hands. tears threatening to spill as you look at him.

don turns to look at you with a mix of emotions, his eyes filled with hurt and longing. you can see the conflict in his expression as he tries to process what you've said. after a moment of silence, he takes a step closer to you, closing the distance between you.

“you really hurt me you know.” he utters, voice fragile.

“yes and i would do anything to remedy that—” you’re desperate for his forgiveness, your voice sounding aspirated as you tell him. you’d go to the ends of the earth just for him to forgive you.

“and yet no matter how much i felt hurt by you, i couldn’t get you out of my mind.” he confesses, his voice soft and vulnerable. "i was angry and disappointed, but deep down, i still cared about you."

tears well up in your eyes as you listen to his words. the weight of the misunderstandings and missed opportunities of that day feels heavy on your shoulders. you reach out and gently take don's hands in yours, holding them tightly.

"i'm so sorry, don," you whisper, your voice filled with remorse. "i never meant to hurt you, i should’ve told you somehow… i’ve never regretted anything more in my life.”

don's grip on your hands tightens as the other dabs at the tears that fallen on your cheeks, his gaze never leaving yours.“i’ve never felt this way about anyone y/n, i hope you realize. you plague my mind day and night, these past few days where i was supposed to be upset with you; i was worrying if something bad happened, how you were feeling, what you were thinking.” he confesses, sorrow and regret lacing his voice “i thought what happened that day would make me loathe and resent you for hurting me… but i could never hate you, i can’t let what happened define our relationship.”

you look up at him with a glimmer of hope. you watch as he takes a deep breath, standing ever so closely.

“i want us to start again.” dons eyes shine a soft amber as he looks down at you, the sun encasing his features with a soft glow. illuminating the freckles that litter his face; imitating a galaxy of stars. he’s a dream come true.

a smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you feel a sense of relief wash over you. his expression softens as he sees the smile he’s come to adore so much, the tension that had been building between you starts to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and comfort.

“i promise, i will never hurt you like that ever again.” you say, your voice filled with earnest. don feels as if hes back in the common room with you, talking to you for the first time. he’s lovestruck and there was nothing that could happen that would get rid of it. he’s sure you’ll never do anything to break his trust again, your devotion now so clear to him.

“i know.” a crooked grin plastered on his lips, his arms wrapping around you in a soft but tight embrace. as if he were to let go you’d be gone again. he felt content, all the stresses from the week leaving him as he’s in your arms. a feeling he will never tire of.

“so how should we properly start again?” you breathed, your face incredibly close to dons. a soft flush crawling on your neck as you flicker from his lips to his eyes, him doing the same. it feels as if time stops as you share this moment together, drawing closer until your lips touch. the kiss is slow and tender— moving slowly as he relished on the way your lips feel on his. they’re soft and plush, fitting perfectly against his, like a breath of fresh air. he thought about what it would feel like to kiss you but nothing could compare his thoughts to the real thing. it was just you and him. his his hands rest against on your hips pulling you flush against him, your arms around his neck as he slightly dips you back. passion growing ever so slowly as he continues to kiss you, his kisses becoming more heated, the addictive feeling of your lips on his. he couldn’t get enough of you.

you break away from him reluctantly, mirrored heavy breaths as you look at each other with affectionate gazes. he clears his throat, composing himself. he pushes your hips back to create space between you. trying to fight the nerving urge to kiss you again as he looked at your rose tinted lips.

“i propose we properly take advantage of this winners bliss everyone keeps talking about.” a giggle escapes you as you embrace him again, this time he twirls you, in your own little world—happy with a profound adoration for each other. the sun setting behind you, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink.

the fact they won gold really hitting him now, considering he had a win of his own.

bonus.

“bobby! what could i do for you?” your brows jump in surprise as you look up from the book you’re reading, you had thought it was don since the spot you were in wasn’t as well known, the last person you expected to see was bobby.

“i just wanted to apologize about what happened… a week ago.” he trails off, looking sheepish in front of you. a stark contrast to the man that defended his friend so willingly against you.

“did don send you here?” you tease, a playful smile on your lips. bobby huffs, denying immediately. no, don did not send him to apologize. he came on his own accord, after what happened that evening. don was lovesick the moment he entered the dorms and bobby felt terrible for what he had did, even if he thought you deserved it at the time. he knows now that you make his friend happy and that’s all he cared about.

“don’t worry bobby, i forgive you. i needed that berating, i deserved it. you’re a really good friend to don you know.” you state matter-a-factly. looking at him with appreciation, bobby’s chest puffs at your praise. he crosses his arms over his chest, proud.

“oh i know, i was the one who encouraged him to go for it remember?” you laugh, nodding.

you guess you have bobby to thank for this, you'd have to mention this to don later... speaking of you'd have to tell you're friends about your new lover... speaking of friends:

“hey you’re not seeing anyone by chance?” you suddenly ask, bobby falters—taken aback from your question.

“uh, no. why?” he responded, his head quirking in curiosity from the sudden and a bit uncalled for question.

“no reason, i just feel like a friend of mine would really like you.” you shrug, returning to your book. bobby takes the book from your hands, resting it on the table.

he takes a seat across from you, his hands laced together. as if in a business meeting “say no more, what’s her name?”

he’s all in.

(this is how you and bobby became bffs btw.)

stars ending-ment! i honestly love how this came out and omg is this a segway to a bobby fic????? who knows... it could be hehe. (lmk if you guys would want that lol)

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

[touyas-multi-purpose-saline]

DAY XXIX. — EVIL TWIN

cw: Yandere Undertones, Mentions of Vomit, Teasing, Unhealthy Relationships, Quirkless AU meets Quirked AU, Implied Relationships with Touya and Overhaul, Blood, Violence, Mentions of Cauterizing, Uncomfortable Scenarios, General Dark Content Not Suitable for Immature Audiences, Fem! Reader. Reader discretion is advised. 18+ Only!

author's note: Haha, self indulgent once again! I was joking with my friends and that's how this came along. It's so wild, but I hope you enjoy. I do not condone unhealthy behavior in any sense! This is strictly fiction! Do not force yourself to read if you're uncomfortable.

word count: Approximately 2.3k words.

He looks terrified whenever he falls before you. 

Kai’s looking up at you, his wide eyes dull but large in horror, face hollow, and his bottom lip is trembling. You repeat his expression, eyes wide but surprised. He’s different, strange. He’s wearing a pine green jacket lined by luscious cobalt tinged purple fur, one so heavy that it sags off of his body, ruffled at the fringes. One of his brows twitches, he has a small scar on his forehead, that’s odd, and you’re still staring him down. Everything else about him looks the same—formal clothes, that lavender gray tie still as bland as ever. It’s like he’s gasping for air, words death in his throat, and you glance further down. 

Where are his arms? 

You figure that would be rude to ask, so you open your mouth to question, 

“What are you doing here?” 

You already know how he ended up here—strange warbling, a rip in the fabric of time, warping colors, static, wailing, tires screeching, burning rubber, rot, ichor, and you’re seeing a world that’s crashing through a portal. There were voices, shouting, someone was calling out a name—“Dabi!”—electric blue turned dodger flames, high and smoky. You can still feel the heat on your face, and then, two bodies were flung through haphazardly. They bounced like basketballs, skidding across the floor of your bedroom before this Kai and that other man—Dabi?—rolled into one another. Dabi crashed into the side of your bed, bashing his head, but he didn’t even wince, and then Kai ended up before your feet. You’re staring at a man in a bizarre mask and a man with a posthumous hand splayed across his face, they yell again, and then the portal winks shut as if it were never even there. You blink. 

Kai begins sputtering. 

“I-I, I’m, you’re, b-but—” 

There are hives breaking out all over his face, red and screaming, and his eyes grow even more gaunt. You don’t interrupt him as he struggles to speak, but someone else does. 

“Heh. How precious.” 

You turn your head to the other voice, and it’s the Dabi guy. He’s limping as he stands, trench coat wavering, and you can’t help but stare in awe. There are these deep taupe burns on his body—arms, face, chest, neck. Staples? Or are they piercings? The metal glitters underneath the dim lights strung around your room. He stumbles, but catches himself against your bed and then chuckles. 

“You’re his girl, aren’t you? Can’t believe I’d ever get the chance to meet you in the real.” 

Dabi’s words don’t make sense, but then, 

“His girl? You’ve got the wrong Chisaki.” 

Dabi’s eyes are insanely large whenever he slowly pivots towards your bed, and you turn your head as well, and Touya is spread out across your mattress. There’s a glint of humor haunting his face, despite the confusion in his eyes. You glance at Dabi, back to Touya, and then to Dabi. Those teal eyes look so familiar. They look so similar, don’t they? Dabi’s hair is shadows, Touya’s are doves, but the two flow together. A line creases down your face, but you don’t say anything. You don’t get to anyway because, 

“Another me?” 

Your Kai sits up, having been laying properly on the furthest side of the bed away from Touya, and then he crawls the rest of the way towards you so that he can look down at the other version of himself. That Kai looks mortified, and there are emotions playing throughout his face, his body, his eyes that you can’t comprehend. Blood splatters to the floor—oh, it’s coming from his sleeves. Did he just lose his arms? Is that why he’s bleeding? 

Dabi chuckles before it shifts into a guffaw. 

“Oh. Ohhh, this is too good, huh, Overhaul? Your girl’s got a better you.” 

Overhaul? Dabi starts trekking forward in lumbering strides, like that spin cycle he took had more of an impact than he expressed, and he starts to crumble to the edge of the bed to sit right next to you. That Kai—should you call him Overhaul?—watches Dabi the whole time, those hives getting brighter, and tears are starting to well in the corner of his eyes. Your brows knit, you tilt your head, and you start to wonder what the fuck is happening. 

“Overhaul? Dabi? Are those your names?” 

Dabi shrugs, but Overhaul can only gape like a fish. 

“You can call me whatever you like. But this  guy’s got a complex according to the boss. But who knows? Maybe you can call him by his real name.” 

You draw back a little because Dabi’s started leaning closer, and his breath smells burnt and it doesn’t taste good when you swallow. He really does look an awful lot like Touya. Averting your gaze helps, and you murmur, 

“I’ll just call him Overhaul.” 

Overhaul’s breath hitches, and he starts genuinely crying. You blink, shocked, and you quickly turn to him and stretch your hands out. His whole body is an earthquake, he’s crunching in on himself, the blood pools farther, and you watch those hives mushroom. The palms of your hands grab him by the sides of his face, cupping it between, and you immediately start cooing.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” 

He’s not your Kai. The real Kai is pressing himself closer to you, thigh to thigh, and he starts to stare down Overhaul with an apathetic regard. You wonder what he’s thinking, but you don’t ask, and instead you focus on Overhaul. He may not be your Kai, yes, but he looks almost exactly like him. And he’s crying, and you can’t help the way your heart twists or your lips purse. Overhaul’s so pathetic, and you don’t know why, but you feel like you’re looking at a little boy who’s been told his whole world is ending. You wonder if it is, the blood grows, and you start to sink off the bed to squat before him. 

“I—We, you, I. I failed. E-Everyone. The Boss—P-Pops, a-ahhh, ahhh—” 

His words tumble into distraught yells that never really get that loud, but it’s enough for you to hit your knees and rub your thumbs over his temples. Overhaul isn’t even seeing you anymore, or maybe he is, and that’s why he starts gasping and sobbing harder. He’s choking on his own spit. Touya flops on the bed, belly down, you can hear the sound, and he whistles quietly. 

“Man. What’s up with him, other me?” 

Dabi is Touya, that’s what you figured, and Touya confirms it. They don’t say anything about it, but Dabi sounds disgruntled when he hums. 

“Apparently, he just lost everything he wasted his whole life on or something. They’re ‘bout to send him to the, uhhh, big bad prison. I think. Tartarus.” 

“Tartarus?” 

Touya sounds bored, Dabi does too, and he scoffs. 

“Right. Lemme guess. You don’t know what Quirks are either?” 

Kai speaks up. 

“You two come shooting through a portal, and you think we live in the same kind of  world?” 

Dabi chuffs. 

“Fair point, uh, Chisaki?” 

Overhaul doubles forward. You have to fall into his blood to keep a hold on him, and he lands perfectly within your embrace. His head is on your lap, and he’s awkwardly twisted onto his side. His sobbing gets harder, and notes of words scent out of his mouth, but they don’t have a fragrance and you just start to pet his hair comfortingly. He gags, you glance at Dabi. 

“Prison?” 

This makes Touya perk up a little before he slaps Kai on the knee, and the latter more than likely makes a face that sparks a stifled laugh out of Touya. 

“I always knew it would be you first.” 

“How relevant, Todoroki.”  

Dabi seems appalled for a moment, but he gets over himself and nods at you. 

“Prison, yeah. He’s a villaiiiiiin. And a, uh, uhh, yakuza. If that even really means anything.” 

Touya howls. 

“Yakuza! Chisaki, you’re a true Dame Da Ne Guy!” 

“Oh, ha ha, you’re so funny, Todoroki. How about I show you yakuza—” 

“Kai. Touya.” 

Their names shut them up, and they glance at your frustrated visage. They’re not taking this seriously, and honestly, you don’t want to either. But there’s a man crying before you, gaping with wounds, and another man who’s been burned alive being elusive with his answers. You’re getting annoyed, and more than bothered, and you groan whenever you address Dabi. 

“I don’t know what a Quirk is, but if you can use it to heal Overhaul, I’d really appreciate that.” 

Dabi’s face looks dangerous whenever he grins at you, a predator eyeing up prey, and he starts laughing in an odd rhythm. He starts to slink towards you by shuffling against the bed before he rolls to his knees, hands flattening against the floor, face to face, noses brushing against one another. You don’t flinch away, that sounds like a bad idea. Dabi’s grin goes rictus, deadly, and you feel a hotness begin to emanate from his body. It only takes a minute, a matchstick drummer hitting asphalt, and you watch as flames start to chant and flounce along his body. Both of your eyes stare at the blue electricity, at the crackling, at the way they whip and waltz, and Dabi tilts his head until his lips brush yours. The pruned flesh makes your eyes saucers, but he doesn’t kiss you. His flames congeal. 

“I’ll help him out. Why don’t you comfort him while I fix him?” 

His words are ominous, but the fire admires you, and so you start to wrap your arms around Overhaul to hoist him off of the floor. Maroon is everywhere. Snot is confetti down his face, curtaining his lips. He’s still muttering. 

“N-No Quirks. No Sh-Shie Hassai… kai. N-No, none, B-Boss. Heroes. Heroes… League. A-Angel? You…” 

Maybe those make sense back in his world, but you just keep petting the side of his head. This position is uncomfortable, and it’s not an easy one to maintain with the way Overhaul is bouncing on top of your lap. His shoulders are feral, and Dabi gets closer. 

“Yeah, your angel’s here. Might wanna memorize her face, boss. Who knows how long we’ll be here for? You ain’t ever seeing her again when we get back.” 

Overhaul’s sobbing does get louder now, and he’s screaming. Those deep chords pull at the violins in your chest, and you feel tight. Your muscles tense, your joints ache, and the thunder of pain within your sinuses makes you wince and exhale sharply. Overhaul’s too much like Kai. It doesn’t matter the differences. You can’t stand seeing Kai cry, can’t stand to see Overhaul cry. You don’t know anything about him. You don’t particularly care. Dabi’s words stab at you too, and you can hear Kai start to move behind you. His hands fall on your shoulders like he’s trying to ground himself, and you wonder what he’s thinking. Touya’s sobered up, he’s silent, but his presence is still there. You know he’s just observing. Everyone’s body in this room is so real, so full, and it’s like vibrations echoing underneath the shells of your flesh. 

Overhaul starts to retch. 

“Y-You said you were mine, angel. You—said you’d stay w-with me, and—you were supposed to help—the plan, Eri.” 

Dabi’s fire consumes. Overhaul’s agony is ferocious, and you watch Dabi’s hands slice for Overhaul’s arms. They slide underneath the empty sleeves, and you’re positive he’s burning whatever stumps are left. The wounds are being cauterized, you think, and Overhaul’s yells cough into vomit. He gets sick in your lap, you turn your nose up with a hint of discomfort, Touya emits a disgusted noise, and Kai’s grip tightens. Sizzling flesh, something tasty, flaky, it fills the air, it’s styrofoam, it’s peculiar, it’s obnoxious. Your head is reeling, and you notice Dabi’s pressing against your face again. Nose to nose, lips to lips, and his eyes start to lid as he hisses out a chuckle. 

“How’d another me get so lucky? I’m honestly jealous.” 

He doesn’t give you the chance to respond before his mouth is truly on yours, and he’s pecking you. Dabi’s kiss is gentle, unexpected for his attitude, for the way he’s torturing a man alive, cooking him, and he moves his jaw very cautiously. It’s like he’s never kissed anyone before. Maybe. You wonder if Touya is Dabi’s motivation. It feels wrong, you feel sin and guilt crawling all over you like diseased cockroaches, gossamer legs, tickling, but he’s Touya. Underneath those scars, those staples, those flames, it’s Touya. An inner animal of you growls, and it makes you eat his kiss up. Kai joins you, and Touya isn’t far behind. Both of them are on the floor now, hands all over you, touching your back, sides, hips, thighs, ears, and everything they can brush their fingertips over. 

And Overhaul is watching, leering, and he’s calling out to you in dying throes. 

“A-Angel—! Forever, you said f-forever! I’m—We’re m-married—us, a… sick, sick, s-sick villain. H-How—?” 

You are ignoring him over the fireworks, choosing Dabi’s fulfillment. Overhaul’s words are insanity, they’re downright obsessions; he must have never really been a nice man in his world. He’s nothing like your Kai. Just like Dabi’s nothing like your Touya. But that doesn’t mean you can’t refuse his affection, can’t stop caressing the shell of Overhaul’s ear. Down to jaw round, over the column of his neck, and Dabi’s tongue is tender whenever he does a tentative lick at your bottom lip. Dabi’s voice is so so so so ginger now. 

“I wonder if the other you would choose me over her husband.” 

The implications are too real, too weighty, so you just moan into Dabi’s kiss, the fingers on Overhaul’s head firm, and there is nothing but snapping firewood and convulsing mutterings. 

“Give her back. G-Give her back. Mine. She’s mine. She—She’ll help me. Give her—” 

Your hand slips down to cover Overhaul’s mouth. 

[allthedamnlove]

The One where Sofia tells Rafe that they are having a baby

Heyy loves, I am supposed to be writing my actual story and working on my master thesis, but I can't shake this idea about how Rafe would feel if Sofia was pregnant. So here she is, my first full-fledged one-shot. I hope you guys like it considering that this is just a word vomit.

I'll upload it in Wattpad and Ao3 as soon as possible.

Enjoy. There's just a smidge of angst if you look very closely, but it's 99.9% pure fluff.

Taglist: @popou61 @araybiaaa

The moment that I knew that I was pregnant was actually on a random Thursday afternoon during work. 

My work as an English and Spanish teacher to primary kids and middle school students meant that my entire day is filled with chortles of “Yes Mam!” “No Mam” and “Thank you mam!” or “buenos días señora!” and “gracias señora!” I am surrounded by tender lives whose limbs, brains and hearts are ever growing with curiosity and unfettered affection for the world itself. And as a teacher, it is my job to make sure that they don't lose their light in their lives. So I love children, I grew up with two younger siblings who were kids when I was toeing into my twenties and so naturally I understand what it is like to raise a kid and take care of them. When I graduated from college with my English Masters, I was confuddled about what to do with my degree and scared that my career won’t be satisfying and I’ll end up slaving away in a job that will slowly kill my love and passion for literature. Then weirdly enough, I was helping my niece, Valerie Routledge about English grammar when she stayed at Rafe’s and my place and safe to say, I was enamoured with the idea of teaching. I remember using her dollies and all the cute trinkets to make her comprehend articles and Rafe sitting beside me whispering, “Looks like you found your calling”

And here I am, spending everyday with kids and mostly loving it.

Like any job, it has its good days and bad days. Most of the times, it's both; no matter how cute, innocent and fragile kids maybe, at one point you get exhausted from all the running around, changing your tone to being overly sweet and helping student’s clean their uniforms if they spill orange juice. 

But at the end of the day, I am witnessing actual human lives grow, explore and expand their tiny universes and I am proud and in awe that I play a big part in that process. 

So, yea I had a hunch when I knew I was pregnant. 

I was perched on the wooden bench on the staff lounge, munching on my Italian pesto sandwich and chilli flavored potato chips (It was Rafe’s turn to cook and he makes a mean Pesto chicken sandwich) as I read the note that he sent along with my lunch box. 

“I love you and I hope you have a great day. Hoping that I see you soon so that I can tell you all about my day and I hope you feel that way too.

I know my sandwich is bomb but still tell me how it was 

Yours, Rafael” 

At the end of the note, he signed his name along with cute hearts drawn around the corner. 

Fuck I was going to cry. And weirdly, I had been crying a lot. 

My unreasonable crying session got abruptly cut by my co-worker Andy whose bi-sexual pin shone in the sunlight; his maroon cardigan swung as he moved swiftly. He dropped onto the wooden bench beside me with his lunch on his hands. 

“Hey, how was the midterm, Sofia. Did you see teardrops on the answer sheet or only smiley faces?”

“Haha, Andy. They were all fine. I made sure the questions were relatively easy.” 

Rolling his eyes, he caught note of Rafe’s handwritten letter, cooing

“Awww, you guys are so cute!!! I don’t know who is lucky in this marriage, you or the blue-eyed beast you get to call your husband?” 

My cheeks bloomed into a rosy hue as I fumbled and fumferred to give an answer, I don’t know why, Rafe and I have been married for two years and dating since I was twenty-one.

I am twenty-eight now. 

I still blush when I think about us. I guess true love never really loses its charm even after seven years. After all, he is my first love, my first everything, I guess.

But again, I was at work and I was not comfortable enough to give a coherent answer. We are at a point in our relationship where we have seen each other morph into the best, loving version of each other. Rafe watched me turn into a more confident, more vivacious soul while I saw Rafe grow into a man that knows what he wants, holds mountains under his shoulders yet loves with so much devotion that is immeasurable. We both deserve each other in that way, I guess.

Instead, I said, “I don’t know Ands. What about you, Mr Biology Teacher?”

I forgot to tell you; Andy is a biology teacher for middle school / high school students at Outer Banks Public School. While I am a more fairly new addition to the institution, Andy has been working here for nearly six years while I started this job just after I got married two years ago. He also conducts special sessions for Sex-Ed too so there’s always an embarrassing story tucked under that hideous olive-green belt.

“Oh, the usual, taught a bunch of high schoolers about periods and that whole nasty business of it.”

Huh. Periods. When did I last got mine.

Wait….wait….what….

My eyes must have looked like it was going to pop out since Andy waved his hands in front of me asking, “Are you here, Mrs. Sofia”

“Huh…what”

“You were out of it for a minute, you, okay?”

Yes and no, I may be carrying a baby right now.

“Uh…yea I am fine, just tired I guess”

This is true, I have been actually restless the past three weeks. Tossing and turning in bed at night but felt like I needed to hibernate for the rest of the morning.

“Oh ok, let me know if you need any help demolishing that chocolate chip cookie” he laughed pointing at my lunch bag.

I was not interested in that conversation at all, no matter how much I respect Andy. My mind was running miles away from this earthly plane.

As he sauntered out of the hall, I grabbed my phone, scrolling furiously to click the Calendar app. I always noted the days when I was suffering from periods and to my luck or the lack of it, I was nearly a month late.

My hands trembled due to an undiscerning emotion; I didn’t know what to feel. Happiness and a sense of unflinching rush of love surged through me. I may have a mini-Rafe or mini me.

At the same time, I remembered this news meant Rafe’s worst fears coming to life.

He never said he didn’t want kids. Contrary to my prior statement, he always was down with us having kids even when we were dating, whispering in my ear that he wants to see me with his baby in my belly as we unravelled each other in the bed.

His past never graced him with the one thing a child actually needed: his parents love. His mom leaving the world early in a “car-crash” (Rafe still doesn’t believe it, calling it as BS) while his dad holding his roots on him but never actually nourishing him with affection. Ward Cameron used Rafe for his misgiving yet making him beg for his love like the Schrodinger’s cat. I don’t speak ill of the dead but I was kinda content with the fact that Rafe got mature enough to see through his dad’s shiny vacant words of sweet-nothings to discern that Rafe was always a means to his vile ends.

Rafe used to kiss the ground his dad walked on, I still remember holding him by his arms as he scattered his dad’s ashes in the sea, mumbling “I won’t forget you” It was way early in our relationship yet I knew that I would do anything to not to see the cerulean eyed boy cry.

As years rolled by and Rafe started to go to therapy, he confessed to me that he doesn’t know how to parse through the irony that even though Ward might have a sliver of love for him, he exploited his need for affection like it meant nothing. His hands were holding my waist as we laid in bed, his head finding a permanent safe purchase in my neck as his voice trembled;

“I’m scared, Sof”

My hands were caressing his buzzcut, holding him like a vice.

“Of what, Rafe?”

He paused for a moment, planting a small yet earth shattering kiss on my nape.

“That if we have a baby, they’ll forever be cursed by having a psycho as their dad like their grandpa was”

His words hit me like lightning but I further tightened my hold, pulling out his head from his haven to face me; earning a quiet whine from him.

“You listen to me, Rafe. You won’t going to be a bad dad, mi amor”

He opened his mouth to give me a rebuttal so I just shushed him.

“No, Rafe. I know that when you love someone, you sacrifice a piece of your heart. You give it all, Rafe. Just like you gave me yours. And I know for sure that if we have kids, they will be so happy that their dad loves them like no one else”

His blue eyes were clouded by a shroud of tears, threatening to bubble over as he spoke, “But what if I fuck up, baby? What if I am not…”

“No, don’t even think about it, Rafe. I know they’ll be so loved. Beside I will be here. With you. I would also be scared too, and I know you will hold my hand when I am feeling not my best. So don’t let your demons push you away from experiencing love, baby”

His tears were pouring out now. His limbs surrounding my body, afraid to let go.

“I love you” he said in his wispy, unwavering voice, “I love you more than anything and even if I don’t know if Ill be a good father but I know I won’t stop trying since I will love not only a piece of me but also you.”

Then it was my turn to cry, plucking butterfly kisses on his lips as we dreamed of washing away our parents mistakes and rewriting new ones.

That was four years ago. He still tenses at the mention of kids even though he is the “coolest uncle” (as quoted by Valerie) to our niece and the best brother-in-law to Theo and Isabella. He goes all in whenever Val or my siblings crashes at our place for a sleepover; buying all the snacks they ask and taking them on ice cream dates on the beach whenever Isabella, my sister comes to our home. Isabella is a soft spot for Rafe; obviously Valerie is his niece and loves her endlessly but Val has two more uncles and aunts who crowd her entire time and affections and considering Rafe and Sarah’s rocky yet amicable relationship; Val doesn’t exactly come see us very often. I know Rafe may seem nonchalant about it but I know that he hopes that he can fully repair their relationship. I hope so too. Isabella, however, loves Rafe to the ends of the Earth, she met Rafe when she was four and she was completely taken aback by my then-boyfriend turned now-husband. And he too didn’t hold back with the sweets or the bear hugs or the gifts since he wanted to impress my family and also, he saw Wheezie, his other sister in my Isabella. Though she is eleven, she still comes home to have sleepovers with me and sometimes brings her friends to our home to watch new releases.

And Rafe still calls her Button.

My husband should sometimes look in the mirror and contemplate all the bad things he says about himself.

Speaking of the devil, my phone lit with a small ping

I can hear his voice in the text as I read it, “Hey bb, u want me to pick u up after 2 hrs”

My fingers were shaking as I typed, “Yup :)”

For the next two hours, I was on autopilot; my mouth spewing out words on its accord as my brain was sinking in to the fact that I may be a mom in a year.

Or maybe not. Maybe its just a false alarm and I can just go about my day as usual.

But why did a miniscule part of my heart hoped to see if there’ll be two lines on the pregnancy test.

Whenever I saw Rafe treating his niece and my siblings like they were royalty, my heart always leapt, thinking about how our baby would be loved and adored by us. I thought about a little boy with wisps of mousy blonde hair running around with blue eyes like his daddy, laughing and barrelling towards me for a hug or a sweet little girl with jet black hair being carried around by her dada on his shoulders.

Rafe’s and my heart had been entwined with each other for nearly eight years and I cherish every single moment I get to spend with him. And the fact that we both are able to create our destiny and legacy makes me feel light hearted.

As the clock ticked to 3’o clock on the huge, wooden clock on the hallway, a stampede of students rushed from their classes, elated to leave their “hell-on-Earth” schools. As a teacher, I was standing at the entrance of the main building, helping kids around and waving them goodbyes.

 And like clockwork my husband pulled up in his black SUV with Ray Bans covering his eyes, a Black Depache Mode T-shirt adorning his broad shoulders; the car thrumming as it pulled up on the tarmac. He got out of the car, his middle finger playing with the keychain, sauntering like he owned the place.

Why does my breath always stop like I am seeing him for the first time?

“Hey baby, what you doing?” he said cooly, his hands finding home in my waist. He has no chill.

“Doing my job and you are disturbing it”

He stepped back, feigning offence, “Excuse me, Mrs Cameron, I thought you wanted me to come pick you up”

I too played along, crossing my arms on my chest, “Well Mr Cameron, I did call you but I need a minute to pack and there are still kids around here so keep it PG, yea?”

“Yes mam.”

So here I was, riding along like the passenger princess I am, observing my husband deftly drive around the neighbourhood as his other hand softly caressed my thighs. Touch is very important to him, I discovered from our relationship. It grounds him and I am more than happy to be his anchor.

“So how was work, any kid threw up on you?”

I was zoning out again, staring into his eyes and contemplating if I should tell that I may be pregnant.

“Sof, you good?” he asked, his tone carrying a hint of worry.

“Yeah, I am just tired” I repeated the same answer verbatim to my husband.

I need to be sure that I am pregnant. I can’t give him false promises or false alarms.

“Oh, its ok love, I’ll cook dinner tonight. Or we’ll order up, you wanted to hit up that new Thai spot right? yea maybe we’ll order in, catch up on some TV and have a nice shower, hmm maybe that will make your headache go away?”

I was seconds close to throwing myself onto him and holding him in the middle of the road. This is what I meant when I say nobody knows Rafe Cameron better than me. He holds me to the highest degree and every second he never fails to amaze me at how good he is as a husband.

All I could do was hold my tears at bay and palm his face, fingers bookmarking every freckle of his sculpted face.

“Yea, that would be great, Rafe”

As the orange hues of the evening sky eroded into the inky midnight, I laid awake behind Rafe’s sinewed chest, his hands on my belly, where our future child may be resting. As usual, his face was buried in the nape of my neck, soft breaths trying to lull me to sleep. But I couldn’t close my eyes.

I cannot just buy a pregnancy test from a pharmacy; I mean I could but I need to be sure.

All I could think about was how would Rafe digest the news if I was really pregnant. Will he spin me around in joy or will he rub his temples and pace around in fear. I was hoping and praying the former but I know that anything can happen.

The next day, I had a game plan. As Rafe was busy getting ready for work, I typed out a quick message to the substitute teacher, Ms. Fields that I would be coming late to work today and to take care of first period and second period for me. He was strutting around in his dark blue suit, red tie with gold stripes on his hands, rushing towards me for help. As usual. As my fingers went around the collar to loop the tie, I peered upto him since hes nearly a feet taller than me and as much I love it, sometimes I feel as though I am a dwarf compared to him. My voice came in whispers as if we were surrounded by a crowd when the entire mansion was occupied by only me and Rafe. And probably our future baby.

“Hey, I am taking my car today for work, ok”

His voice boomed across the hall, his forehead furrowing, “Why?” he pouted. Carpooling to work is our favourite part of the day where for half an hour we just blast some music and talk shit about our respective work lives or other people.

“Babes, I have some papers to grade and I may need the car to go to the supply store for Halloween decorations for the school"

He huffed whining “Fineeee….but I am not in favour of this”

“You are such a baby, Rafe!”

“What, I am sorry that I want to spend more time with my extremely hot wife.”

“Hmm, flattery won’t take you anywhere, Mr Cameron”

“Well, I say no, cause you take it up to your ass…”

“RAFE CAMERON YOU FILTHY…” I gawked as I hit him square on his chest

He grabbed me by my waist guffawing, “I’m joking, I’m joking…I’m joking”

After a hearty breakfast of eggs, toast and a bucket load of strawberries, Rafe and me parted ways, he is the CEO of Cameron Developments but he is not exactly following his dad’s footsteps to a T. When I got engaged, I laid out this base rule that If I am going to get married, he needs to stop zoning out “Pogue” areas and actually venture out of the area to find new developments. So now he is not only a developer in Outer Banks but one of the top property developers in North Carolina itself.

 Harsh, I know but I am not letting Rafe be a mob-brained “Kook” like everyone in this town is. I don’t know where I exactly belong in the social hierarchy of Outer Banks. I was born Pogue but married the Kookiest of the Kooks yet me and Rafe try not to associate ourselves with that binary. That’s why we live a bit further from Kildare, I was tired of feeling suffocated by fake laughs and snake-like lives of the Kooks and Rafe was exhausted from his reputation as a “psycho” so Rafe built us a home away from those conniving wolves and bit near to the Cut but still on the suburban area. Its just a couple of old people as neighbours who are actually very kind towards Rafe and me except the occasional, “Honey, the house sounds very lonely, you guys should have kids!”

Well, Martha’s dream is about to come true I guess.

*****

Prince’s missionary hospital with all of its ten storied glory was relatively free today. The hallways which are usually crowded with patients ambling slowly with catheters and gurneys rolling screeching on the sanitized floor was mostly vacant. But as I neared reception, I saw a familiar face come around the corner.

Pope.

And he sought me out before I decided if I was planning to acknowledge or avoid him.

“Hey, Sofia, what are you doing here, you ok?”

I forgot he was a doctor here. His badge which read, “Dr. Heyward” glistened under the sterile white lights of the room as she walked towards me, sporting a small smile.

Rafe and the Pogues’ relationship would forever be tainted due to history that Rafe doesn’t want to get into but most of the time, most of Sarah’s close friends are more than cordial with me. Val studies in my school and so Sarah and John B always make time to talk to me when they come pick up from class; I never actually had a proper interaction with JJ but the rest of them wave and ask about life if we encounter each other. And Pope and his fiancée Cleo has always been friendly towards me since I frequent the hospital for charity drives.

“Hey Pope, just here for a blood checkup” I fibbed since as much I like Pope; I really want Rafe to be the first person to know.

“Oh, is anything wrong?” he looked worried as he shrugged his white coat off.

“No, no. Everything’s great. I just wanted to see if my Hb levels are up to the mark, you know”

“I understand, well how’s umm….Rafe?” he fidgeted.

Rafe is a sour subject to all of the Pogues, and in a way I understand but it was nice that they still want to build an amicable relationship with me. I am even surprised that Sarah and Rafe’s relationship seems to be normal to say the least.

“Oh, he’s doing good as usual”

“How’s Cleo?” I actually talk to Cleo quite a lot since she’s also doing her online masters degree in UCLA so its nice to talk to her about academic stuff whenever I see her around.

“Oh, she’s rocking college and life, of course she’s doing more than great” he spoke, a warm smile gracing his lips.

“Well, I’ll let you do your check up I guess. Holla if you need any help.” He offered as he started to walk the other direction towards the lift.

“Thank you, and say hi to Cleo for me”

“WILL DO” his voice boomed as he disappeared from my eyeline.

I let out a small WHEW as I speed walked to the gynaecologists’ room. A tall woman with a blonde bob opened the door, heels clicking as she led me inside.

“Hi, Mrs Sofia….?” she said as was checking the form

“Cameron”

“Oh, ok, I am Dr Maria Adams, so you want to take a blood test to check for pregnancy?”

“Yea, I wanted to be sure.”

“That’s actually a very good decision. Sometimes, pregnancy tests can provide false positive results so I totally get it. So, when did you get your last period?”

“Last month, on 28th”

“Hmm got it. Do you feel tired”

“A lot, more tired than I have ever been”

“Do you feel some sort of tenderness on your breasts”

“I….” my mind raced back to a week ago when Rafe was grabbing my chest as we had sex and I remember him whimpering, “God your tits feel so good”

I cleared my throat, hoping that my cheeks don’t show my lewd daydreaming, I whispered “Yea”

“Ok, just give me a minute, let me take a blood sample and also an urine sample to make sure that you are really pregnant.”

I nodded, my mind coming around to the fact that life felt very real at this moment and that it may change forever today.

God, I really wish Rafe was here with me, encasing my hands with his and leaning onto his shoulder as I always do whenever life feels too taxing to live.

She came back with a plastic cup, two plastic test tubes, a needle and an unknown contraption with a belt. Maria saw through my apprehension and smiled, “Oh this is nothing, its only here if I can’t find a vein. I know everything seems very daunting but this is very very normal for all women when they find out they may be pregnant. This is not going to hurt at all. You’ll be fine ok” she comforted me; eyes softening and her hands gently placing the syringe onto my hands.

As she slowly injected the syringe onto my veins, I looked around the hospital room, pink and blue coloured posters about pregnancy, gestational diabetes, cute baby pictures and the development of a baby was strewn all around the rooms with some posters enlisting emergency numbers. Along with the prick, I felt overwhelmed, feeling slightly dizzy.

Thankfully, she retracted the needle, collecting the crimson red substance in two test tubes as she asked me to pee on a cup in the bathroom inside. After an embarrassing five minutes of peeing in a cup and actually giving it to the doctor, I washed my hands and fidgeted around the metal bench, hoping to get the results as soon as possible.

She came back with her writing pad on her hands saying, “so we’ll get the results by tonight or this evening so I’ll send the results to your phone. You okay with that?”

A whole day. Ugh. That’s why everyone uses the pregnancy tests from the drugstore. I don’t think I can hold out that long but for the sake of my sanity I just nodded and left, walking slowly towards my car.

With a storm brewing in my heart, I really didn’t want to go to work but I can’t just take a sick day when I may need those for future days when I would be actually sick. Reluctantly I dragged myself to work.

Surprisingly the day zoomed by pretty fast, and it was four in the afternoon. I was rearranging the benches as the principal when I heard a loud squeal coming from the hallway. Just as I was going to turn around, I felt a tiny pair of hands encircling my waist followed by an adorable giggle and sound of small bells chiming.

I knew who it was.

“AUNTIE SOFIAAA”

As I turned around, I found myself face to face with Valerie Routledge, my niece-in-law. She was beaming with a tooth missing in her smile; bracelets with colourful charms adorning her wrists and her blonde hair like her mom, sporting butterfly clips. She twirled with glee showing her off leaf green pinoform dress. I kneeled to her height, grabbing her for a bear hug.  

“Oh, my sweetness, how are you, mi amor!!! Had fun in class today?”

“OH, AUNT SOF, I HAD SOO MUCH FUN. I PAINTED A PICTURE OF A HOUSE WITH DAD, MOM AND THE BEACH, UH AND I PLAYED FOOTBALL WITH AMY AND NATHAN” she rushed in one breath to say all her adventures.

“That sounds so lovely, Val. Where are your parents, baby? Your classes must have gotten over an hour ago, if I am not wrong” I cajoled, pinching her button nose.

“We are here, Sof” I heard a booming voice calling me out. It was John B and Sarah standing in front of the classroom.

“Hey! Whats up? How’s the shop?” I went up to them, Valerie on my hips as she was swinging her hands in the air.

“Oh, you know its fishing season, so business is smooth. A little birdie here told me that you weren’t here in the morning so we just wanted to see how are you”

Shit. Shit.

“Oh I was just tired so I came late from home.” Dios Mio, the amount of lies I had to tell today…I truly am on a roll.

It was Friday so I asked them what their weekend plans was and conversation flowed smoothly from there. We were now sitting on the benches with Val keeping herself busy by passionately colouring her newest creation. I was interrupted by my phone ringing, knowing that it would probably be my husband, waiting impatiently in our home.

And when I unlocked my phone, it was Rafe who was calling.

“Hey Sof, its nearly five o’ clock, do you need me to come pick you up. Or you’re busy with work?”

“No, I’m here with your sister, John B and Val” as soon as I said it, Val squealed again and came running towards me screaming, “IS IT UNCLE RAFEY, I WANNA TALK TO HIM, PLEASE SOF!!!”

Not to pop her bubble, I gave my phone and Rafe recognized it immediately, cooing “Hey Valeria, you doing good?”

Though she doesn’t meet Rafe as much as she probably should, she loves her uncle endlessly. They do talk to each other on the phone once in every two weeks because she “loves all her uncles equally” She started going on a spiel about every minute detail of her day and Rafe was intently listening through the phone. As her voice went on and on for about five minutes, Sarah stopped her little rant by softly saying, “Baby we gotta go, your aunt seems tired. She also needs to go home and talk to uncle Rafey, doesn’t she?”

“It’s fine, Sarah” It is true, I am tired and my phone weighs a ton of bricks with my message from the hospital as I heard it ping ten minutes ago.

“Oh, ok. Lemme say bye to him”

As that took two minutes more, Val, Sarah and John B took off, giving me my phone with Rafe on the line.

“Hey, you sure that you don’t want me to come pick you up?”

“It’s fine, I’ll be there in ten”

My consciousness felt shaky, god I need to go home. As I cut the call, I immediately went to my Messages and saw the message from the hospital with a pdf file attached to it. My hands hastily clicked the document scrolling through the unnecessary details to see the verdict.

It wrote

Patient No: 549202

Name: Sofia Cameron

Status: Pregnant

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.

*******

“And you know I want to construct the school there but obviously the government says the land was actually written off for this rich guy who lives in…Tennesse…of all places…”

I was mindlessly nodding to everything my husband was saying as my hands went automatic mode in stirring the curry for dinner. He was perched on the counter near me, talking about his day while I was racking my brain and heart on how to let him know that we are going to have a baby.

I am going to have a baby. Me and Rafe are going to be parents.

I turned towards Rafe, who was looking godly as usual with his knitted blue shirt and sweatpants, his hands gesticulating as he spoke. Aquamarine eyes pouring all of its love onto me as he gently held me by the waist now. God, I don’t know what he’s going to say.

He clocked my wavering stance and looked at me again,

“Sof, are you sure that you’re ok? You’re pretty out of it today, baby.”

I don’t what to feel; elated or terrified. I feel like throwing up and my breasts really hurt.

Instead, I went with the classic, “Yup, just tired from work.”

“If you get really tired like this every day, I’ll take you to the doc, you know. See what’s bothering you?”

I did go to the doctor, well.

“We’ll wait for a week to see, Rafe”

“Ok then. But I am really worried, Sof” he said as he was kissing my neck hands slowly rocking my body along with his.

I switched off the stove, turning my body towards him, my hands finding its natural home on the back of his buzzcut. He was sporting a mullet three months ago but he got tired of grooming his hair in the summer and has again started shaving his hair into a buzzcut. Times like this, I feel like I am reliving my early twenties when I see his buzzcut, my heart naïve yet adamant of the fact that the man in front of me would hold my heart with his and never let go. And inspite of all of the trials our relationship we went through, we ended up gripping onto each other as the waves went harder and gladly, we experienced the light shining into our lives. Together.

And I know that we’ll be alright.

I stood on my tiptoes, plucking a kiss from his lips and as usual, my husband took it as a cue to bend down to my level; grabbed me by the flesh of my thighs and one kiss led to a constellation of stolen kisses on my face and whispers of love. He carried me across the room to the sofa like a feather, soft and careful. And the thought of facing the real life with very real confessions left my thinking for a little while, my heart overflowing with only adoration and devotion for the man laying and loving on top of my body.

As midnight struck again and the ink blue sky was holding all of the stars and letting planes fly by its stratosphere I was left to plan again for the second time, pondering about a cute plan to reveal my pregnancy to Rafe.

My husband was in between worlds, reality and dreams as I heard him grunt and softly whistle in his sleep. I turned around to see him, lashes fluttering on his eyelids; looking serene. I wonder whose eyes our baby will have? I badly hope its Rafe’s but I will love our bundle of joy no matter how they look or who they will be.

I gave a gentle kiss to his forehead, hoping that sleep will also hold its dreamy hands to make me fall asleep too.

****

I was underestimating how much cards there are in a single supermarket for a pregnancy reveal. And how much baby clothes one single store has.

My hands were on my hips as I was closely rifling through the gift aisle of a novelty shop. I wanted to buy a cute card to gift Rafe when I break the news to him along with a cute onesie. I know it’s a very anticlimactic and probably overused method of a pregnancy reveal but I am enthralled yet overwhelmed to tell him that we’re pregnant. I was also planning on baking cupcakes to celebrate or eat it in misery (depending upon Rafe’s reaction) but then my feet started killing me and I planned just to buy some cupcakes from the bakery and put icing on it myself.

Huh, pregnancy does cost a lot of money and time. But that’s just everything in life I guess.

Then my eyes wandered around other gifts where there were a lot of photo frames and stuff. That sparked an idea in me.

Bingo.

All I need to do is go to the hospital right now.

And of course, the bakery.

*****

One thing about Rafe Cameron is that he intently listens and follows to everything that I say. And I deeply love him for it.

And so when I told him that I wanted to go to the beach when he came back from work at three pm, he just said, “Lemme pack sunscreen and a blanket” I felt giddiness in my bones.

And so here we are, nearing the moment that will change our lives, for better or worse. I was admiring my husband as we walked to our special spot in the beach where we first kissed. We always come here once or twice a month, just to sit and be in awe of the waves crashing onto the shore, the wide blue ocean freezing time, washing away all our worries and pains atleast for some minute. I wanted to create a perfect moment when I told him I was pregnant but I realised that every place and moment that I spend with him is a perfect place and perfect time. The sun was kissing the horizon leaving space for purple skies and cotton candy tufts of clouds.

As we sat down, with me sitting between his legs and his chin perched on my head, I slowly opened my beach bag to give him the meticulously wrapped gift.

“Rafe?”

He was gazing at the ocean as he hummed a response, “Yeah”

I got out of his hold as I faced to look at him “I have something to tell you.”

Now all of his attention was on me.

“What happened, Sof?”

I slowly put the wrapped gift onto his hands. “Open it”

He looked skeptical yet so adorable, his rosy lips forming a smile, “Baby, its not my birthday today” as he started to unravel the gift deftly, taking off the tapes one by one; carefully noting that I took time to wrap it.

“Just….open it.”

“Yea, yea. You see I am doing it”

As he opened the gift box, his eyesight went first to the photo album, he shot a undecipherable look, quietly laughing, “You’re crazy, Sof”

He opened the album, and I went near him to gauge his reaction. A grin adorned his lips as he saw photos of me and him in recent times, on vacations, photos of when we were dating, moments frozen in time of us doing funny faces, silly laughs, and untarnished love. He was smiling wide when looking into our wedding photos, me being carried around by his arms and our bodies floating on the dancefloor.

“I love it, Sofia. I am going to probably frame these pics. Jesus, I forgot these existed.

“Go to the last page, Rafe” I was now holding my heart in my hands, my eyes close to tearing up.

He saw my emotional disposition and flipped onto the last pages. And there it was.

On the left side, there were two photos, baby photos of me and him, Rafe sporting an cheek-pinching aww-moment smile while I was pointing my fingers to my cousin brother. Then he saw the other side.

There was a note. It read, “In next nine months, there’ll be a photo of me, Daddy!”

He was stunned for a moment; mouth agape and his eyes followed the writing on the note multiple times to make sure what he read was true. Slowly, he looked at me. His voice was wobbling as he asked me, “Sofia…are you…?”

I was full on bawling now, “Yeah…I am pregnant.”

“We’re….having…a baby?”

“Yup.”

“I…” he was kneeling in front of me now, cradling my head in his hands like he’s holding his entire world as his other hand slowly went up to my belly, delicately caressing it.

“I am also terrified as fuck and its alright if you are too but I am also so happy. I know that you’re sca..”

“What if I ruin our baby’s life, Sof” this was his first response.

He was trembling now, and I didn’t know if it was from affection or fear.

“You won’t. I swear, you will be the best dad, baby.” The waves felt like background music now.

“You don’t know how fucking happy I am, Sofia but I’m…baby…what I fuck up, and our kid turns out to be like me. I know that if our baby is like you, I will be the luckiest mother fucker on Earth but there is a high chance that he or she will turn out like me and then…”

I was both tired and sad that he will always see himself through his worst parts while my vision will always view his bad parts or what used to be his bad parts just as the stitches holding his golden, brazen and passionate parts of his soul. So I cut his rambling with a swift kiss. Our lips melded into each other as our hands tightly manoeuvring each other; silently promising not to let each other go.

I slowly and sombrely drifted away from his lips as I said, “First of all, mistakes will happen, Rafe but don’t tell me that our baby being like you is a bad thing when I know that then they will grown to be the most loving, affectionate person ever. And I am here, I am not going anywhere. Don’t you think that I am also afraid that I may also make mistakes. Yes, but I know that our baby will be alright because we will be there for them no matter what happens.”

He looked at me like I hung the stars for him, he eyes looked enamoured as he spoke, “God, I love you so much and no matter what happens, I know that our baby is a part of you and I swear to God, I will love it more than my life, Sof”

“See, you are more than being a good dad, and they haven’t even come out of me yet.” I was laughing, happy tears covering my eyeline.

We stared into each other eyes, trying to come around the fact that we are on the cusp of the grandest part of our lives. All I knew that as long as we had each other, we can quell each other’s storms of our hearts and paint the darkest corners of our minds with technicolour.

As we were giggling, high on life and from the sugar from the choclate cupcakes. we both knew.

Life was going to be more beautiful. And we were ready for it with open arms. 

Yea, so that’s how I knew that we were pregnant.

[impactedfates]

Hi it's me again. Incoming massive word vomit alskdlfkdjfkj sorry! :')

Can I request a platonic fic of Dan Feng and a very young, quiet and stressed Vidyadhara!reader who frequents the Alchemy Commission? Basically, Reader is an Emanator of the Hunt with an armored form (but it's draining so she can't maintain it for very long).

Those injuries that she shows up with? They're not from fighting bullies, they're from fighting small-scale invasions of Abundance monsters when the Cloud Knights aren't able to (for whatever reason).

Her Emanator form that takes stamina to maintain? Probably why she is constantly exhausted. Kiddo's burning too many calories while on an atrociously light diet. Probably passed out from hunger and lack of sleep a few times.

She hides it all and no longer hangs out with her friends because there was a time when a friend was targeted to draw her out and that just—it wasn't fun. :') Now she's one of the Luofu's worst bundles of anxiety...

You decide when and how Dan Feng finds out. 8')))))

(My friend was reading over my shoulder and they said that this feels like a Spider-Man & Aunt May situation AKLSDJFLAKDJSFLKJDKFJ)

★ A/N: Haha, it kinda does actually, this isn't as long as some of my other fics but I hope this was alright anyways anon!! Sorry it took awhile

☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Hurt/Comfort? (Kinda, not rlly at the same time)

★ Format: Fic (W.C: 1073)

☆ Warnings: Mentions of passing out

★ Extra: Request had she/her pronouns used but reader in this is still GN with they/them // Possible OOC Dan Feng

Being granted power from the Aeon of Hunt themself is a blessing many may have stated. Others think otherwise, but one thing is for sure. Anyone who has been lucky to be blessed with power from any Aeon was powerful.

Many also believe a teenager should not be blessed with this power, and if they are to inform someone. The power given cannot be taken lightly, yet you. You refuse to let anyone know of your status of being an Emantor.

Nor let anyone know why Scalegorge Waterscape has never seen another Abundance Monster invasion. Everyone enjoys the peace and no one questions it. The only time it was finally addressed just who was responsible for keeping the area safe was when someone was being attacked and someone quickly stepped in.

No one knew who it was, no one knew it was you saving them. No one knew it was your friend who had been attacked and you had to quickly step in to save them. And that was fine by you, you didn’t WANT anyone to know your identity.

From that day alone you knew if people knew who you were, that meant the Abundance  Monsters could find out and will target someone even dearer to you. You didn’t even know how they found out who you were friends with, but all that matters was that the less they knew about you. The less your loved ones would get hurt.

It’s no wonder why many advise younger people of the Xianzhou to inform someone if they ever become an Emantor. Just looking at yourself in the mirror, seeing how tired you are. How much this “job” has taken a toll on you was enough to tell you, to remind you that you should’ve told someone.

It was too late for that anyways, you still had to save people. And when you were returning back from your trip to the alchemy commission, you spotted a Foxian about to be ambushed, so as always. You stepped in with your Emantor form. Unbeknownst to you though, that may have been the last straw for your body, as you bid the Foxian goodbye and you turn to leave, your body finally gave way and all you could see after that was black

. 

.

.

.

.

You may have escaped the many questions thrown at you when asked why you were home late or when people point out the injuries you’ve just sustained. But perhaps your luck was running thin as now you were in front of the High Elder Dan Feng himself. To make matters worse, he did NOT look pleased.

Okay so maybe you weren’t in front of him, at least not standing. You were laying down and with one head turn to the side you caught the eyes of a very displeased High Elder. He arose from the seat he had taken and looked at the Vidyadhara near him.

“Leave, I need to talk to them”

The woman nodded before leaving the room, quickly his eyes turned back to you. Slowly you sat up and your body and slightly moved away.

“H-high Elder…w-what are you doing he-”

“Are you feeling okay?”

He quickly cuts you off. Staring at you, his eyes soften a bit as he reaches a hand out to check your forehead.

“The healers said you had many injuries covering your body. Why is this?”

“...Just some bullies, nothing to be worried about”

He stared at you before removing his hand and crossing his arms. Silence filled the room quickly. Your eyes trailed away from his realising he wasn’t going to believe you.

“I found you, passed out on the ground…and from people who were in the area. The famous ‘Emantor of the Hunt’ was there saving a Foxian, no?”

“...”

“...You’re the Emantor aren’t you?”

He could only sigh as you continued to have your lips sealed, unwilling to speak. Unwilling to give away your secret. But that was all he really needed to know the truth. You felt the weight of the bed shift as he sat down near you. He closes his eyes as he takes a small breath.

“You should’ve-”

“I know…I’m…I’m sorry…I just”

“It’s okay…but…you’re going to have to tell someone, your parents”

“B-but if I do, t-the abundance beasts…t-they’ll know. They’re gonna h-hurt my fa-”

Dan Feng quickly casts his gaze toward you, promptly shutting you up. He sighs a bit. He knows why you won’t tell, he knows people who are young don’t always follow advice people tell them when something happens. So he understands, at least he’s trying too.

“I will deal with the Abundance Monsters, I’ll get Cloud Knights and some of my friends to do so. You are still a kid. You shouldn’t be handling this kind of responsibility. And as your High Elder, I urge you to tell your family”

“...but-”

“But nothing, you don’t have to tell them right away but you will eventually…you will also no longer be fighting these monsters. Not until you're old enough…if you truly wish to continue helping, then wait till you're older. Then you can come to me and I’ll take you in as my pupil. I’ll teach you how to manage your abilities and how to fight even without your form”

You stare at him for a while. A good while before casting your eyes down, playing with your hands. Still unsure about the decision you didn’t get to play a part in. A part of you wants to rebel, the other part knows. Knows that what Dan Feng is saying is correct. It knows he only wants the best for you, still no words can be formed. You were still tired, all you could do was weakly nod.

Even if you were to refuse, Dan Feng is a stubborn one. He nods approvingly before standing up and walking to the door, he looks back at you.

“I’ll get you a meal, what would you prefer?”

You gave your answer and soon he left. You slowly laid down on the bed once again. Closing your eyes and slowly you were sent to the land of dreams.

When Dan Feng comes back with your choice of food, he spots you asleep on the bed. Resting the blood on the table next to yours, he sits down back on the chair, watching you. The peaceful look on your face gives him peace of mind.

“Sleep well then little one”

Finally cleared out all my requests haha. They'll still be closed for now though. Thank you anon for being patient with me and I hope you enjoyed.

[7-wonders]

To the world we dream about (and the one we live in now)

Calliope & Reader, Morpheus/Dream of the Endless & Reader

Summary: Being in the right place at the right time turns everything you thought you knew on its head when a woman, imprisoned and battered, is literally thrown into your life. Left with no choice but to do the obvious, you offer her shelter and support in her time of need.

Unbeknownst to you, said woman is a powerful and ancient being who now belongs to you in accordance with the old laws. This situation definitely won’t become complicated, right?

Word Count: 14.5k

Author's Note: A couple of months ago, I received an ask, seen below, and have not been able to stop thinking about it since. After a lot of brainstorming with the wonderful sender of the ask (not sure if they want to be named!), I finally sat down to write it.

So, here we are! This story took on a mind of its own the longer I wrote (perhaps the Muse Calliope paid me a visit haha), and it's genuinely something that I'm so proud to have produced. It's not necessarily an x reader fic—right now, though depending on reader reaction there may be future parts (including a Calliope/Morpheus POV of these events)—so I absolutely understand if you choose not to read, but I hope that you do. In the end, this is truly Calliope's story.

A story of empowerment, friendship, freedom, and self-discovery.

Content warnings for this work include allusions to sexual assault, general trauma, Richard Madoc, vomiting, kidnapping, realizations of inadvertent kidnapping, mentions of death, and Nightmare!Morpheus. Reader discretion is advised.

The man standing at the front of the room taps his fingers along the edge of his lectern, savoring the enraptured faces that stare back at him. For those in his class, this is expected of him—he always gets a dramatic air about him when he’s on the verge of making the point that he had been working towards for the entire lecture and looping it back to the thesis statement from the beginning of the hour. Though it was routine by now, practically tradition, the students still ate it up every time.

“The theme between all of these authors–the Fitzgeralds and the Hemingways, the Tolkeins and the Orwells–is that their words carry power and strength. While they may look like mere letters strung together on a sheet of paper, when read together, these words have a weight behind them. They can conjure up worlds, inspire the masses, make readers think critically; it’s a type of magic when you really think about it.”

He checks his watch before clapping his hands together in finality and smiling out at the room.

“Well, my friends, I’m afraid that’s all the time we have today. Thank you very much for joining me, and please make sure that you have your essays on the influences of World War One and its aftermath on the literature of the time ready for our next class. See you then!”

When your university announced that world-renowned author Ric Madoc would be a visiting professor for the semester, you immediately jumped on the long list of students interested in taking one of the three classes that were going to be taught by him. You had absolutely no hope that you would get into the class, not when it seemed like half the student body was also signed up, but you had to at least try. The Spirit Who Had Half of Everything was one of your favorite books of all time, and you’d be remiss not to attempt to learn from the master himself.

Somehow, much to your surprise, you had received an email informing you that you earned a spot in Madoc’s “Great Works of the 20th Century” class. The class had lived up to the hype so far and you were thoroughly enjoying it, even though it wasn’t exactly related to your field of study. In fact, you enjoyed it so much that you normally stayed behind with a group of students to continue having a discussion with Madoc about the aforementioned great works. Today, unfortunately, you couldn’t, having to rush out immediately after class was over to make it to your group project meeting in the library on time.

Of course, it’s difficult to get any sort of work done when one happens to be randomly paired with their best friend, but you’re trying your hardest.

“Psst.” You don’t look up, choosing instead to try and finish the sentence you’re writing, but a balled-up gum wrapper hits you smack in the center of the forehead. “Hey!”

After you’ve finished typing, you look across the table at Evie, your best friend. “Can I help you?” you ask.

“Do you wanna come out with me and a couple of others tonight?”

“It’s Thursday.”

She shrugs. “So?”

Points were made, and who are you to resist a good argument? “Convincing. I’m in! I just have to run home real quick and get changed.”

As you search through your bag, you start to feel your heart plummeting in your chest as you realize that you can’t find your keys. Digging through the contents furiously in the hopes that they’ll turn up yields no results, and neither does patting at the pockets you know are empty. With horror in your eyes and fear in your heart, you look back up at her.

“Fuck, I lost my keys.”

“Shit, dude. Do you remember where you last had them?”

“Um.” 

You have to think for a moment, mentally retracing your steps until you can definitively pinpoint the last time you saw your keys. They were with you in the parking lot, because you remember locking your car twice just to be sure that you did. From there, you would have been holding them in your hand as you walked to Madoc’s class. Considering you went straight from class to the library, there are limited options for where they could be. Either you left them in the lecture hall or you dropped them somewhere on campus. For your sake, you hope it’s the former.

On the syllabus, Madoc had given the class his work cell phone number in case of emergencies like being unable to make it to class or an act of God destroying your homework. Though you doubted you would need it at the time, you still saved it in your phone to be on the safe side. Now, as you pull up his contact and start a new conversation, you thank past-you for having such good foresight.

You: Hey, great class today! Did you happen to find a set of keys left behind in the lecture hall? I’m missing mine.

After a second of contemplation, you send another text with your first and last name when you realize he probably doesn’t know who it is texting him. It only takes a couple of anxious minutes before your phone chimes. 

Richard Madoc: Hello! Would these happen to be the keys in question?

Richard Madoc: Attachment

The keys are immediately recognizable as yours, thanks to the keychain of a possum wearing a cowboy hat that’s attached to them. You sigh in immense relief before glancing up at Evie, who’s been watching with bated breath the entire time. “I left them in Madoc’s class.”

“Oh thank god!”

You: They are! Any chance you’re still on campus so I can swing by and grab them?

Richard Madoc: I’m afraid I’ve already left for the day, but I live pretty close to the uni if you’d be willing to pick them up from my flat.

He sends an address in the following text, which you promptly input in your maps app so you can see where said address is located. It’s maybe a five-minute drive from campus and conveniently located in the direction of your apartment.

You: Will be there in a bit! Thank you :)

“He already left, I’d have to pick them up from his place,” you explain.

Evie immediately fixes you with a look, one that says she’s seen this particular move before (and she didn’t like the ending). “Do you want me to come with you?”

The unspoken words hang in the air between you: Do you feel safe going to an unfamiliar man’s house alone? Should I come to make sure nothing bad happens? It’s very thoughtful of her, and you consider saying yes for a moment.

But Evie lives in the opposite direction of you, and she doesn’t have a car. While you don’t know Madoc well, you’re also not expecting him to try anything on you, especially when it’s still light out. 

“I should be okay,” you say.

“You’re sure?” Evie double-checks, and you nod. “Call me before you get there, okay? Just…have me on the line, in your back pocket. It’d make me feel better about letting you go on your own.”

How did you get so lucky to have such a great friend like Evie? Of course, you would do the same for Evie in a heartbeat, but it’s so nice to have found a kindred spirit, someone who truly understands you and all your little quirks, so early in your adulthood.

“You’re not letting me do anything,” you tease. “But yeah, I’ll call you when I get there.”

“Thank you,” she says sincerely, sliding her papers and her laptop into her backpack. “Now let’s go. The sooner you get your keys, the sooner we can go and get drunk.”

It feels a little dumb to be driving such a short distance, from the campus to the address that Madoc had given you. You’re exactly the type of person that’s killing the planet with unnecessary carbon emissions when you could just as easily walk, you chastise yourself on the way over. 

But you had driven to class this morning, that being a distance actually too far to walk, and it would be stupid to walk to Madoc’s, get your keys, walk back to campus, and then drive home. So here you are, beating yourself up over something stupid and inconsequential while you try your best to parallel park in a respectable manner in front of Madoc’s little townhouse.

It’s exactly the type of lodgings you’d expect a university professor to have, yet almost the opposite of what you envisioned as a successful author’s home; a small, yet stately, townhouse with a little fenced-in front yard. Plants try their hardest to survive in the patch of dirt that’s probably supposed to be a garden, and there’s a small chair and table perfect for Sunday mornings sitting on the front stoop.

The gate creaks when you open it, and even more when you close it behind you. At the last second, you remember that you promised to call Evie, so you pull out your phone and do just that. 

“Hey, you there?” Evie answers her phone.

“Yeah, just got here. Putting you in my pocket now.”

Even though the idea felt a little like an overreaction, you can’t deny that you feel safer now knowing that Evie’s listening on the phone.

You knock on the dark blue front door once, twice, three times before taking a step back and waiting patiently. After about thirty seconds, you start to worry that Madoc’s not home. But no, that wouldn’t make sense; you talked to him maybe half an hour ago, and he knew that you were on your way to pick up your keys. Frowning, you knock again, followed by holding your ear to the door to see if you can hear anything.

He’s definitely inside. Though the sound is muffled, you can hear what sounds like him yelling at somebody through the door. Who the source of his ire is, you can’t say, because there’s nobody saying anything back to him. Maybe he’s having a really heated conversation on the phone? If that’s the case, it’s a pretty inconvenient time to launch into a virtual argument.

You don’t want to be rude and knock for a third separate time, but you really do need your keys, and you’d prefer to not be kept standing out here waiting. Begrudgingly, you knock yet again, putting a considerable amount of force behind it this time. 

“Mr. Madoc?” you call through the door, raising your voice enough that you’re sure he’s heard you. By the way that he suddenly falls silent, you’re assuming that you’ve been successful. Pulling back from your position right up against the door, you wait for him to appear.

When the door is yanked open, you’re shocked at what you see. Gone is the confident lecturer who stood at the front of your class this afternoon. The man in front of you looks positively haggard. His eyes are bloodshot and red-rimmed, and his bottom lip quivers almost as furiously as his hands shake. His hair is a mess, as though he’s been pulling at it, and his shirt is weirdly rumpled like he fell asleep in it.

You take a big step back when his eyes land wildly on you without really seeing you. Your hand goes to your back pocket, hovering just above your phone in case this encounter goes south and you need to have Evie do…something. Call the cops? Yell at Madoc through the phone? Scream? Whatever it is, though, she’ll do it for you.

“Hi. Um, you–”

Madoc shakes his head back and forth and begins to mumble something, completely ignoring you and your presence. He reaches one of his hands further inside the house, grabbing at something unseen. Your body tenses, preparing to fight this man that, up until two minutes ago, you had believed to be completely sane and rational.

His hand comes back into view, tightly gripping a woman’s upper arm. She’s barefoot and clad only in a thin silk nightgown, and you can see the goosebumps already appearing on her skin.

“A city in which the streets are paved with time,” he mumbles a little louder, allowing you to hear what he’s rambling about. “A train full of silent women, plowing forever through the twilight. Heads made of light. A small piece of blue cardboard. A plum, sweet and tart and cold.”

“Mr. Madoc, are you alright?” 

Instead of answering you, Madoc throws the woman across the threshold and towards you. You catch her in your arms, both of you stumbling backward, but you let go when you notice how she immediately tenses at your touch.

“She’s your problem now, I can’t do this anymore!” Madoc begins to pull at his hair, so hard that you think he might end up pulling it out of his head. “I refuse to be tortured any longer!”

“What are you talking about?” 

He’s lost his damn mind, you think to yourself as he continues to spout the most random of ideas. You thought that you had properly calculated the risks of coming over here on your own, but apparently, you’re bad at math.

“A were-goldfish who transforms into a wolf at full moon. Griffins shouldn’t marry. Vampires don’t dance.” Madoc shakes and smacks himself multiple times as if to try and snap himself out of whatever he’s gotten into. “A man who inherits a library card to the library in Alexandria. A rose bush, a nightingale, and a black rubber dog collar!”

You’re so thrown off by what you’re witnessing that you don’t even realize he’s closing the door until the sound of it hitting the doorframe reminds you why you’re here. You bang your fist against the door and yell at him, “Hey! Give me my fucking keys!” 

Madoc opens the door just enough to throw your keys at you, which you fumble and nearly drop until catching them by the stupid cowboy possum keychain, before slamming it shut again. From within, you can hear several locks clicking shut loudly in quick succession.

The speed with which this entire interaction has occurred leaves your head spinning, and you have to take a moment to realize that yes, what you just experienced was real. Even then, you stare at the door bemusedly. “What the fuck?”

“I do not believe he will be coming back,” an accented voice says from behind you.

You can’t stop the little scream of surprise that leaves you when you whip around to face the woman who, until this moment, you forgot had been kicked out of Madoc’s house. She stares at you, just as warily as you’re probably staring at her.

She’s otherworldly beautiful, with olive skin, dark hair, and dark eyes. But what stands out the most is just how visibly scared she is. She watches you like you’re a predator readying to attack. You hate it because you’d never do anything like that to anybody, but especially her. What had Madoc done to cause her to have this reaction to a stranger?

Evie’s voice rises tinnily from the phone in your back pocket, loud and panicked, and you remember that she’s been on the phone this whole time. You pull your phone out and hold it up to your ear, having to put a little distance between it due to how she’s yelling.

“—I swear, I’m two seconds away from calling the cops! Please just let me know you’re okay!”

“Evie, hey, I’m here,” you say, making her cry out in relief.

“Oh my god, are you okay? I was scared when I heard yelling!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright. Pretty sure I just watched Madoc have a mental breakdown?” Is that what that was? You can’t say for certain, considering this is your first such occasion.

“Seriously? Well, did you get your keys, at least?”

“After he finished rambling about were-goldfish and plums.”

“Jesus Christ. Are you going to call somebody?”

“Who would I call? And anyway, maybe this is normal for him.”

“If that’s normal, I’d hate to see what abnormal is.” She sighs. “So, I’ll see you soon?”

“Um,” you trail off, looking at the woman. “Y’know, I might take a rain check, if that’s okay. I’m a little shaken up by everything that just happened.”

“I bet, that sounds like it was really scary. We’ll miss you, but take care of yourself. If you do decide to come out, just text me and I’ll tell you where we’re at.”

“Thanks, Ev. I’ll, uh, talk to you soon.”

You hang up the phone, and now you and the woman are left awkwardly staring at each other. How are you supposed to approach a situation like this? Sliding your phone back into your pocket, you hold your hands with the palms facing out so that she can see you’re not holding any weapons and decide to just start from the beginning.

“Hi.”

She nods back in greeting, trying to hold herself with as much dignity as she can in this situation. The chill of the night and her lack of proper clothing leave her trembling in front of you, though some of that is likely from fear too, and you can see bruises in various shades of healing up and down her arms. Worse, there are visible fingerprint-shaped bruises ringing her neck. Though you’ve never been particularly violent, you’re tempted to break down Madoc’s door and do unto him what he’s obviously done to this woman.

“Are you cold? I have a spare jacket if you want it.” You point the hundred or so feet to where your car sits. “Here, let’s go over to my car, I’m just parked on the street right there.”

The woman attempts to gauge you and, presumably, your intentions. Though this is her decision to make, you give her a friendly smile in the hopes of convincing her that you have no ill will toward her. After a moment, she nods hesitantly.

You take the lead as you walk down the front path to your car, mainly to show that she holds the power here. There will be nobody sneaking up on this woman or trying anything, and she’s free to run far away from you if that’s what she chooses. 

Still, she follows you, and waits patiently while you dig around in your back seat until you finally come up with the light jacket that you had tossed back there after an outdoor movie night. You hand it to her and she shrugs it on, holding it tightly around her and trying to hide within the cotton fabric.

You don’t want to ask the question that’s on your mind, but you know that you have to. You need some sort of context for the situation. “Was…Madoc keeping you locked up in there?” She nods, and you feel your stomach roil with sick nausea. “Okay. We need to call the cops, so they can come and arrest him.”

“No!” she says firmly, a departure from how soft-spoken she previously was. “Please, I beg you, no authorities.”

“But…” 

Maybe he hadn’t kidnapped her like you found yourself assuming at first. Perhaps this is a severe case of domestic violence? Regardless, she looks like the poster child for abused women, and you’re not about to disrespect her wishes when this is probably the first choice she’s been able to make for herself in a long time.

“Okay,” you agree. “No cops.” 

“Thank you.” She sounds so relieved that it makes you want to cry.

An idea begins to form in your head, but one that you’re not sure how to begin to broach. After all, the woman in front of you has absolutely no reason to trust you. “I’m guessing you don’t have anywhere to go?”

She shakes her head. “No, I have…nowhere, and nobody.”

That settles it. You’re not about to leave a battered, formerly-trapped woman to fend for herself on the streets. “So listen. I have a spare room at my place, and you’re completely welcome to it for as long as you need.”

“Oh, I could not impose.”

“You wouldn’t be!” you assure her. “Please, it’s the least I can do. At least until you get back on your feet.”

She studies you again. Though you don’t know what she’s looking for, you can tell that she’s the kind of intuitive person that sees beyond that which is only skin-deep. Finally, she says, “Alright.”

You grin and open the passenger side door, gesturing for her to get in. “Alright.”

After getting the car started and the heat turned up all the way, you watch as the woman fiddles with the airflow of the heater until it’s blowing directly on her delicate hands, which she holds in front of her to warm up. She looks at you as if realizing for the first time that you could betray her trust much in the same way as Ric Madoc had. To prove to her that you won’t, you unlock the doors when they try to lock automatically in response to you putting the car in ‘drive’.

You tell her your name, and for the first time, she smiles. It’s a small thing, barely a quirk of the lips, but it’s there. “I am Calliope.”

“Oh cool, like the Muse!” Her smile widens until she’s actually smiling, leaving you delighted. “Your parents were into Greek mythology, then?”

“Something like that, yes.”

As you drive to your apartment, Calliope turns in her seat and watches as Madoc’s apartment grows smaller and smaller behind your car. Even after it’s disappeared behind turns and other buildings, she still watches, perhaps waiting for him to come back to his senses and come after her. But there will be none of that tonight, or ever again. Not as long as you have anything to do about it.

When you get home, you continue the routine of taking the lead and allowing Calliope to decide whether or not she wants to follow you. Calliope lingers in the entryway of your apartment, taking her time carefully cataloging everything that she can see as you work at getting the lights turned on and trying to clean up a little bit—after all, you hadn’t exactly expected a houseguest when you left for class this morning. 

She runs her fingers along the walls and the frames of artwork that you’ve acquired at festivals and flea markets. She feels the coats on your coat rack, and her dark, inquisitive eyes scan over the battered toaster and soft fruit in your kitchen. As she walks further into your home, she takes care to take up as little space as possible until she reaches where you stand in front of a closed door.

“My old roommate moved in with their girlfriend a couple of months ago, and they don’t know what they want to do with her furniture, so they’re just storing it here until they can figure it out,” you explain as you open the door and flick on the light switch to reveal a bare bedroom. It’s sparsely furnished, with just a full bed, a nightstand, a dresser, and a desk and chair. “Now, it’s yours.”

“Mine?”

“For as long as you need it,” you repeat.

Hesitantly stepping inside, Calliope looks over the room before nodding in satisfaction. You can only hope that she had a space of her own in Madoc’s house, but by the way that she looks around like she’s never seen something so wonderful as an empty bedroom before, you’re left with a sinking feeling that this wasn’t the case.

“So! I’ll grab some sheets and a blanket from the linen closet and get the bed made up for you. Um, all of the doors lock on the inside, so feel free to keep yourself and your space private. Do you want to take a shower? Because you definitely can. Avery—that’s my old roommate—left some of the clothes they didn’t want behind, and they’re about your size, I think.” You’re rambling, but you just want to make her feel as welcome as possible. 

“A shower would be…nice,” Calliope decides.

“Awesome! The bathroom’s right through here, c’mon.”

In the bathroom, Calliope watches as you grab a couple of towels from the closet, along with the sheets and blanket you mentioned earlier. You set the towels down on the closed toilet lid next to the shower.

“Feel free to use any of my stuff here, it’s totally fine,” you explain, pulling back the shower curtain so Calliope can see your haircare products and body wash.

Instead of looking over that array, she simply stares at the chrome of the shower faucet in confusion.

“Oh yeah, the shower’s a little weird here. All you have to do is turn the handle, and then pull the plug on the faucet for the shower.” You show her as you explain it. “Turn the handle left for hot water, and right for cold. Got it?”

“I believe so.”

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it, then. Just yell if you need anything from me.”

You close the bathroom door behind you and after a long moment, you finally hear the lock turn.

Good. In the meantime, you’ll make a quick meal for her, in case she’s hungry. Plus, you need to keep your hands busy. It will help take your mind off of the horrors you’re trying desperately to forget that you witnessed.

•••

Four days later, Evie runs up to you on campus when she sees you and wraps both of her hands around your upper arm before pulling you towards her. “Did you hear?”

“What?” You’re more focused on not falling over your feet at the sudden change of pace you’ve been forced into than you are wondering what you did or didn’t hear.

“You were right. Mr. Madoc had a complete mental breakdown! Somebody called in a welfare check on him, and the cops found him curled up in a ball mumbling gibberish. He hadn’t moved for days. You know the worst part, though?” 

You shake your head. 

“He covered every single wall of his house with the most random words and phrases, and they were all written in his own blood.”

You reel back. “Jesus!”

“I know, totally gory.” By her laugh, you can tell that she enjoys the gore.

It’s at this moment that you realize that you haven’t told Evie anything about what happened after you hung up with her that night. It certainly wasn’t deliberate; you’ve just been so caught up in the sudden change in your living arrangements that you haven’t had the time to text or call her about what you went through.

With that in mind, you say, “I have something to tell you.”

Evie’s eyes immediately light up at the prospect of gossip. “You do?”

You nod. “That night, when I went to his house? He grabbed this woman from inside his house and just threw her at me, saying that she was my problem now. She was all bruised and wearing nothing but a nightgown, and he treated her like she was his property. Evie, she said he kept her trapped there.”

“What the fuck.” Evie stares at you in horror. “Is she okay now?”

“Physically, yeah. She’s staying with me.”

“At your apartment?”

“Where else? Her name’s Calliope. I’m letting her stay in Avery’s old room until she gets back on her feet again.”

Evie whistles lowly. “I can’t tell if that’s kind of you or stupid of you.”

“Probably both.”

“Yeah, probably.” 

As you walk, an astute observation comes to your mind. “Y’know, it makes sense that he’s such a piece of shit. Now that I think about it, the only authors we ever discussed in class were white guys.”

“Hmm, typical white man.” Evie rolls her eyes before she grins. “Hey, can I meet her?”

“Calliope?”

“Who else?”

You have to think about that for a minute. Would she be comfortable with meeting new people and putting herself out there? While you think that your friends are great, especially Evie, you just don’t want to force her into anything before she’s ready.

Evie seems to sense this hesitation, and explains, “She just seems like she needs some friends. A support system might be good for her while she tries to get her life back!”

“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll ask her if she wants to do something like that.”

“That’s all I ask,” Evie says. “In the meantime, is there anything that I can do to help? Like, does she need clothes? Kiara’s aunt owns that boutique, and she would probably be willing to help out.”

That’s a good idea and one that you hadn’t even considered. Obviously, Calliope’s going to want some clothes of her own instead of Avery’s hand-me-downs. It’ll probably help her to feel more like a human being, one with choice and agency over herself.

“Oh, would you ask her to talk to her aunt?” you ask. “That’d be great.” 

Evie nods. “Definitely. I feel like that’s, like, the least I can do.”

“I wish there was more that I could do,” you admit.

“You’re doing what you can, and that’s what matters. Hell, most people wouldn’t have even offered to let a woman in Calliope’s situation stay with them. You’re a good person, you know that?”

“Thanks.”

“Eh, what are friends for, if not to reassure you that taking in a random woman on a whim is the right idea?” You huff in mock anger, and Evie laughs. “Anyways, you’ll never guess what the university is trying to do about the whole Madoc situation now…”

•••

Calliope doesn’t come out of her room when you’re around, not that you blame her. If you had gone through even an ounce of what you suspect she had, you’d want to be safe and alone for a long time, no matter how nice your new roommate is (and you like to think you’re pretty nice). You hear her sneak around when she knows that you’re in your own bedroom, as quiet as a mouse, and every night without fail, she takes a long shower. Other than that, it feels like you’re still living alone.

Since you don’t know how often she’s eating, and she doesn’t leave dishes or any sort of indication that she’s getting food for herself, you leave meals out in front of her door for her, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Sticky notes accompany them, because you have things that you want her to know and this is the only way to communicate with her right now.

“Feel free to grab food from the kitchen whenever you want!”

“I have great books, and you’re more than welcome to them.”

“If you find yourself wanting to watch TV, the remote is on the coffee table!”

Each message is signed with a smiley face, and each one is gone when the empty tray is returned outside her door.

The empty trays and, eventually, the books that go missing from your bookshelf are the only signs of life that you receive from Calliope. 

When Calliope finally emerges while you’re home and not in your room, it’s six days after Ric Madoc threw her into your arms. You’re sitting on your couch reading fanfiction, a random YouTube video playing in the background when Calliope’s door creaks open and she peeks her head out hesitantly. Immediately you pause the video, smiling brightly when she notices you looking at her.

“Hi!” you greet.

“Hello.” She slowly exits her room clutching the book she’s been reading, as skittish as a feral kitten, and you slide over on the couch before patting the now-empty other side in invitation.

“You can come sit if you want. I’m just reading.”

“What are you reading?” Calliope asks, perching on the edge of the cushion as though she’s preparing for escape at any moment.

The smile freezes on your face. Just because you’re happy your new roommate is here doesn’t mean you’re about to out yourself as a fanfiction reader. “Oh, just a fantasy book.”

“Why do you have that…television on, then?” Calliope says this as though she’s still unfamiliar with the concept of television.

“I like the background noise of putting on shows that I’ve already seen. Helps me focus.”

She looks at you like that’s one of the oddest things she’s ever heard. Maybe it is, but it’s your little habit, and it has been for so long that it’s normal now. You hit play again, and Calliope starts a bit as sound comes through the speakers on the TV. Funnily, even though she seems to not understand your reasoning, the sound itself helps her to relax enough that she’s sitting on the couch with you instead of hovering like she’s preparing to bolt at any moment.

You don’t say anything, not wanting to make her think that you’re dictating what she can and cannot do. Eventually, Calliope decides to follow your lead and open her book, though she keeps getting distracted by the TV and eventually forgoes the book entirely in favor of watching the show.

“The tall one does not believe in ghosts, but the little one does?” Calliope asks out of the blue. You swallow down your laugh at her description of the hosts and nod.

“Mhm, and that’s what makes the show so good, is that dichotomy between the two hosts. One is so serious about everything they do, every noise that they hear, and the other is just dancing around and begging the demons to possess him or whatever because he thinks they’re not real and so saying this stuff can’t hurt him.”

She watches silently for another few minutes before asking, “Why are they searching for ghosts in the first place?”

“Well, because people love trying to solve the unsolved. And I think ghosts and the question of their existence is one of the ultimate unsolved mysteries.” She nods in satisfaction and turns back to the show, and you decide to turn off your phone and join her.

Calliope, as it turns out, enjoys television, if only for the strange concepts of some of the shows. You’re more than happy to show her all of the strangest and best shows, with the bonus of getting to see them anew through her eyes, which seem to be watching everything for the very first time.

•••

It’s mid-afternoon, and instead of being outside on what’s turning out to be a beautiful day, you’re stuck doing homework.

Everybody had assumed that Ric Madoc’s classes would be canceled after his abrupt admission into the Saint Dymphna Mental Health Hospital. The university, however, not wanting to just give out automatic passing grades without merit, had scrambled to try and find professors to teach Madoc’s classes. Somehow, they had succeeded, and you were now once again immersed in the world of 20th-century authors. Though your new professor didn’t have the ability to truly capture a room in the same way Madoc had, she was a fine replacement, and she devoted a good chunk of class time to women authors.

It’s too nice of a day to not take advantage of, though. That first true spring day after a long, harsh winter has finally arrived, and you won’t let it pass you by. All of the windows are open to allow the stale air of the apartment to dissipate, and as you write, you listen to the birds chirping and people doing yard work. Maybe, if you finish quickly enough, you’ll be able to take a walk yourself. 

Calliope would probably enjoy that as well, you think.

The woman in question knocks on your open bedroom door, and you look up at her with a smile from your desk. She clocks the computer and the notes spread around you and grows sheepish.

“I’m sorry, you are busy. I’ll–”

“No, don’t worry! Just finishing up an essay for a class. Got a crazy burst of motivation for it, and ended up knocking it out in a couple of hours. It’ll be good to look away from the screen.” 

Calliope gets that funny little smile on her face, the one that says that she has found something amusing but is going to keep it to herself. She waits patiently as you stretch, wincing when she hears the way that your shoulders pop and crack after hours of stagnancy.

“What’s up?” you ask. “You seem like you want to ask me something.”

Calliope points out of your bedroom. “What is out there?”

You stand so that you can see what it is she’s referencing, and find that she’s pointing to your sliding door.

“Oh, it’s a little balcony. I don’t go out there much right now, still a little too chilly, but it’ll be nice to sit out there once summer comes. Here, I’ll show you.”

It’s the first time this season that it’s been nice enough to have the door open, which is probably why she’s only just now realized it’s there. You open the screen door and lead her out onto your balcony. It’s small, but you spent last summer adding to it and making it a comforting place to relax. Now, there are lights strung up above your heads, and there are two chairs with a table in between them. Planters sit lined up along the iron of the balcony railing, ready to be filled when planting season comes around.

Calliope gasps, and you’re about to ask what’s wrong (part of you is worried that a snake managed to find its way up to the third floor), when she tilts her face up to the sun, leaning over the railing to try and get as much of the light on her as possible. She looks like a painting come to life, probably with a name like “Muse Bathed in the Sun”, because truly, Calliope seems like the type of person to inspire every person lucky enough to make her acquaintance. 

“Helios,” you hear Calliope whisper reverently. 

It’s obvious that she isn’t aware that she said that out loud, and you start to feel embarrassed before she turns back to you with a true smile and tears running down her face.

“I have not been outside in the sun in so long.” 

She explains this simply and factually, as if she’s talking about why the sun is where it is and not about all that she was deprived of during her captivity. Madoc didn’t even let her go outside. It’s a good thing that he’s under secure watch 24/7, because there have been many times over the almost-three weeks that Calliope has lived with you that you have wished to be able to go and inflict upon him a modicum of that which he did to Calliope.

Now tears are running down your face too, and you wipe at them harshly with the backs of your hands. This is Calliope’s moment, Calliope’s joy, and you won’t have her feeling sorry for making you experience such happiness and broken-heartedness by watching her.

“It’s here no matter what. Even if it’s a little cold, bring a blanket out and sit whenever you want. Soon, we’ll be able to plant some stuff. You can help me if you want!”

Calliope’s back to facing the sun directly, but she still nods to let you know that it’s a good idea. Quietly, you back up into the apartment and close the screen door behind you, letting her have this time of reconnection to herself.

Most mornings after this rediscovery, you find Calliope already sitting on the balcony by the time you wake up, a blanket around her shoulders, a mug of something hot in her hands, a book on her lap, and the sun bathing her skin.

•••

“Y’know what, I’m gonna give that one a three.”

“A three?” Calliope tuts. “That is cruel. His performance was at least a six.”

“C’mon Cal, you’re just saying that because you see the best in everybody! The rest of us saw a douchey frat bro drunkenly singing ‘SexyBack,’ which earned him a three. And that’s me being generous.”

Calliope and your friend Ethan are, of course, judging the karaoke performances of the bar patrons brave (or stupid) enough to sing in front of others. They, along with your friend Kiara, take this tradition very seriously. For every performance, the three of them have detailed notes and a rating out of ten to go along with it. 

You had finally given in to Evie’s pleadings and decided to broach the subject of going out in public to Calliope. Much to your surprise, she accepted when you first invited her to karaoke night with your friends at the group’s favorite bar. She accepted when you offered to bring her to trivia, and she accepted when your friends finally got around to doing a book club meeting—which was mainly just drinking and eating appetizers while you talked about the books you’d read, but it still counted. 

(Taking Calliope to her first drag show quickly became one of your favorite and most cherished memories)

She took to your friend group like a duck to water, and in return, they embraced her wholeheartedly. Now, none of you could imagine a life without her in it. 

And slowly, it seemed as though Calliope began to start to heal. With every bar meetup, movie night, or random coffee date, you saw a bit more light return back to Calliope. Flashes of the woman that she once was, vibrant and funny and elegant and wise, begin to become more frequent as the days pass. Every time she allows for a hug or every time she smirks into her glass after saying something that has the group erupting in laughter, she becomes more and more herself.

“Oh my god, it’s our turn!” Ethan yells suddenly after the karaoke emcee calls his and Evie’s names. He stands and holds his hand out to Evie, who happily takes it and jumps up with him. “Let’s go knock some socks off.”

This will either go one of two ways. They’ll either perform their serious song, “Bennie and the Jets,” which they’re surprisingly good at, or they’ll go funny and perform the Sharpay and Ryan version of “What I’ve Been Lookin’ For” from High School Musical, which they’re also really good at. By their tipsy giggles, you’re guessing it’s the latter.

The second they both start doing the Sharpay and Ryan hype-up routine, Kiara sighs and grabs her drink and phone.

“I promised these dumbasses I’d film them the next time they performed this,” she explains before going to work as an unpaid videographer.

Throughout their entire routine, Calliope’s enthralled, as she should be. It’s a good performance, of course, but Evie and Ethan together are a true comedic duo. The matching jazz squares during the instrumentals truly bring the whole piece together, and you’re in tears from laughter by the end of their routine. When they return to the table after a rousing standing ovation from the patrons of the bar, Calliope gives them her own round of applause and beams.

Naturally, she bestows upon them the highest ranking one can receive during karaoke nights. “Now that was a ten.”

Ethan bows as Evie kisses Calliope’s cheek. “Thank you, m’lady,” he says proudly.

“When do you get the time to practice this?”

“Nights like this, usually,” Evie explains before Ethan interrupts.

“Though we have been known to skip a class or two when we were trying to work out the kinks in our performance.” Ethan picks up his drink before frowning when he sees there’s nothing but melting ice cubes in the glass. “Well, apparently I need another drink. Anybody else?”

Everyone at the table shakes their head, but Kiara reaches into her jacket. “No, but I am gonna go hit my pen.”

“Ooh, I’ll come with you,” Evie volunteers cheerfully.

“Weed thief,” Kiara teases.

“Are you telling me no?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“That’s not a no!”

Your friends go their separate ways, leaving you and Calliope to sit alone at the table. The next singer has already started, and you grin when you hear what it is.

“Oh, I love this song,” you tell Calliope before singing along. “‘Cause I’m dreaming of you tonight, ‘til tomorrow I’ll be holding you tight!”

Beside you, Calliope grows a little gloomy. She’s frowning a bit; even if it’s barely there, you can always tell because it completely transforms her beautiful face into something so sad. You stop humming and look over at her, watching as she slowly swirls her straw in her drink repeatedly to give her something to do.

“Having fun?” you ask, slightly worried at the sudden melancholy that seems to have draped over her like a shroud.

“Yes,” she tries to assure you, but it sounds clipped, like she’s holding back.

“You know you don’t have to come just because I invited you, right? You can do whatever you want.” You never want her to feel as though you’re forcing her to do anything, and even though she’s been having fun up until now, there’s still that anxiety that tells you that she’s just going along with it because she feels like she owes you.

“I know,” Calliope assures. “But I enjoy you and your group of friends. You make me feel…welcomed, and accepted, in a way that I have not felt in a long time.” 

“They’re your friends now too. Pretty sure they decided that the second they met you.”

“I consider them friends as well. I consider you a friend as well, though I hope you know that by now.” She smiles down at her drink. “Besides, I quite like the karaoke nights.”

“I can tell. You never sing with us, though.”

“I don’t need to, I just enjoy listening. The people singing, and enjoying themselves, it reminds me of my son. He, too, loved to sing, and he was gifted with such a beautiful voice.”

“You have a son?” This takes you by surprise. Though Calliope seems to be very maternal, she’s never mentioned anything about a child until now. The fact that she talks about him in the past tense has your heart sinking into your stomach from the implications.

Calliope nods. “My sweet boy, my Orpheus. He was beautiful, and heartbreakingly sweet. He had a voice that could bring even the gods themselves to tears. He was taken from me…far too soon, and I miss him every day, with every fiber of my being. Being here, among so many people happy and making music—I see his face in all of theirs, and it brings me some sense of peace, to know that I can find pieces of him here, in the most unlikely of places..”

It’s sweet that she kept the Greek mythology theme going with her own son, you think, though it’s tragic that he suffered the same fate as his namesake.

“He was so lucky to have a mom like you, Calliope. Any child would be.” You lick your lips and taste the sweetness of alcohol on them as you ponder what to say next. “His life might have ended too soon, but he knew that he was completely and truly loved until the very end, which is such a gift.”

Tears well up in Calliope’s eyes, and she dabs at them with a napkin grabbed hastily from the table. “Thank you,” she chokes out. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“Ah, now you’re gonna go and make me cry too. Can I hug you?” 

You always, always ask for permission before hugging her or touching her. She doesn’t seem to mind anymore when friends do it without asking, but you can’t break yourself of the habit. 

Not after seeing what you saw the night that you met her.

She doesn’t give you an answer in the form of words. Instead, she simply falls into your arms, both of you clinging to the other.

From behind you, Ethan whispers, “Uh, are we interrupting something?”

•••

Evie has a date tonight and is naturally freaking out about it. She doesn’t know what to wear, she doesn’t know what she’s going to say, she doesn’t know if she’s even going to like the girl. Though you can provide her with all of the moral support in the world, there’s only one problem that you can currently help her with, which is how she ends up rifling furiously through your closet on a random Wednesday night.

You and Calliope sit on your bed, watching as Evie grabs different outfits and either critiques them herself or holds them up for you to do so. This is a tried-and-true routine for you, but Calliope’s experiencing the joys of helping a friend in need pick out a first date outfit for the first time. As a result, she puts far more thought into her responses when Evie asks for an opinion.

“You know, I believe I may have just the shirt for you in my room,” Calliope says after the outfit rejections have reached double digits. “Come.”

Calliope has truly made her room her own in the almost two months that she’s lived here, which makes you so happy to see. She’s decorated with items found antiquing (Calliope always manages to come out of an antique store with a haul—you think it's her superpower), and her room has an actual personality now.

She goes to her closet and begins searching through it before finding what she’s looking for; a white blouse with bell sleeves and delicate embroidering along the cuffs and collar. It’s beautiful, and exactly what Evie was looking for. Her attention, however, is drawn to something else in the closet, and she grabs at one of the hangers after approving Calliope’s choice. To your surprise, Evie comes up holding a cream-colored, silk nightgown.

“Wait, Cal, you still have the nightgown you were wearing the night you got away?” you ask.

It would be cruel to say anything more than the most vague descriptions regarding Calliope’s imprisonment. Nobody particularly wanted to remind her of that dark time in her life, so great care was taken to make it the least bit triggering as possible when it needed to be brought up.

She nods. 

“Why?”

Calliope thinks about that for a moment. “I am not sure, to be honest. I certainly do not want to keep a relic of such a terrible time, but throwing it away does not feel…right.”

Evie perks up. “Ooh, y’know what we should do? We should burn that bitch!”

Calliope looks perturbed. “I thought you said that he is still in a mental hospital? Besides, I believe that immolation is still a crime.”

You and Evie both laugh when you realize that Calliope thought she was talking about Madoc.

“Not that bitch, though you’re giving me great ideas. I meant that we should burn the dress. I saw it on TikTok; these friends did a ‘burn and release’ ritual. They had a fire going in their backyard, and they all wrote down and talked about things that they wanted to release before burning it and physically releasing themselves of that. It looks like it’s super empowering, and it might give you the closure that it seems like you’re looking for.”

She doesn’t say anything, but you can tell that she’s intrigued. 

“We’d participate, too,” you chime in, Evie nodding along with you. “I think we all have things we want to burn so that we can give ourselves permission to move on.”

“I would like that, I think.”

Evie smiles. “Perfect. Leave it to me.”

It only takes Evie a couple of days to coordinate everything. Her parents live just outside of town, and they happily offer up their backyard to their daughter and her group of friends. When you and Calliope arrive, there’s already a fire pit set up with a ring of camping chairs surrounding it. Kiara waves from one of the chairs, a bag of marshmallows sitting in her lap, as Evie works at getting the fire going.

“Yay, you made it!” she says when she can finally trust the fire to not go out the moment she looks away from it.

Calliope nods graciously. “Thank you for hosting us this evening.”

“You’re so formal sometimes! If anything, I should be the one thanking you for going along with my crazy idea.”

“I do not think it is crazy at all,” Calliope assures.

“We’ll see, won’t we? Anyways, pens and paper are over in the empty chair next to Kiara, and there will be drinks and snacks momentarily.” Evie turns to you. “Wanna help me grab said drinks and snacks? I need an extra set of hands.”

After helping Evie with procuring and setting out a few bottles of wine, plastic cups, and a bunch of different snacks, the four of you each pick up a pen and paper and begin to write. Calliope writes furiously, her pen seeming to fly over the paper as she jots down her thoughts, and is done first as a result. The rest of you take a bit longer to write, needing to stop and think about what you want to put down before you do so.

In a group chat, you, Kiara, and Evie had decided that one of you would automatically go first, to make Calliope feel comfortable about participating. When you’ve all finished writing, Kiara stands and clears her throat.

“Well, guess I’m first up,” she says.

In hindsight, you should have guessed how emotional a night of talking about things that you need to release and then burning them as a physical manifestation would be. Still, the teary eyes from everybody when Kiara finishes reading her letter to her ex-best friend and tosses it, along with a small box of mementos, into the fire catch you off-guard. Though you said that everybody had things that they needed to release the night that Evie first brought this up, you just didn’t realize that everyone was carrying their own burdens that, to them, are just as heavy as Calliope’s is to her.

You volunteer to go next, reading about how you release all of the expectations that you’ve had about your life and where it’s meant to go. Even before Calliope arrived in your life, you struggled with the idea that your life was not going according to the plan that you had in mind. You weren’t hitting milestones that you had plotted out, and your life “schedule” kept imploding time and time again. Now, you hope to be rid of that, and the constant feeling that you’re failing yourself and your life. 

As you watch the paper burn in the flames, you try to convince yourself that all of those feelings are burning along with it.

Evie follows, with a big “fuck you” to her biological dad, who she recently found out only tried to form a relationship with her so that he could get money from her. It’s such a terrible situation, and though she’s handled it with her classic brand of humor, you can all see the hurt that she carries with her. Her letter is funny and biting and makes you all laugh, but she’s openly crying by the time she tosses it into the fire, and she gets a long hug from each of you after.

Finally, it’s Calliope’s turn, and she takes a long moment to stand. She’s been holding your hand since you finished reading her letter, and you give her a comforting squeeze before letting go so she can properly hold the letter. After taking a deep breath, she looks around the fire at the encouraging faces before her before she begins.

“I have often lived my life in the service of others, though most of the time, it was something that I willingly and happily did. That choice was removed from me when I was stolen from my home and bound to a truly vile and horrid man. He took everything from me. My thoughts, my inspiration, my—” Calliope’s voice breaks. “My body. Nothing was mine anymore, and I was told that that was how it should be, that it was the natural order of the world. He beat me down, physically and emotionally, to the point where I started to believe it. 

“Though I had long since lost hope, I prayed for some sort of salvation, and I prayed to whomever I could think of. Nobody answered, either because they could not or would not, and I believed myself truly alone. Eventually, my former lover, Morpheus, was the only one who could, or would, help me, and even then, there was only so much that he could do. I do not fault him for that, because he did the most that was possible for him to do.

“And then one day, somebody knocked on the door of my prison and demanded their keys back.” She looks at you with a wobbly smile, and you sniffle in an attempt to hold back tears. “I know not why that was the tipping point for my captor, and frankly, nor do I care. He threw me out like trash, but I was not really in a place to question a gift such as this. And it truly has been a gift for me. In the two months since I escaped captivity, I have been able to heal, slowly but surely, even though I did not think such a thing was possible. I have found my laugh once more. I am free to do whatever I want, whenever I want. To sit in the sun, or read a book, or be with my friends.”

Calliope picks up the nightgown from where it sat next to her chair. “With this, I release every last hold that my captivity has had on me. From now on, when I think about that time, I shall think about survival, and how I refused to be kept down. I am free, and I shall remain forever free.”

She tosses the dress and the letter into the fire, watching intently as the flames catch the fabric and begin to work through it. Then, she laughs. Her laugh is beautiful and like the peals of bells, and it’s infectious too. Soon you’re all laughing, and you all have the same idea to hug Calliope. It turns into a group hug, the four of you laughing and hugging and watching as the smoke of the fire carries away that which you do not want to carry with you any longer.

•••

Calliope takes her time getting out of the car when you arrive back home, still basking in the euphoria of emotional release. When she turns to look at you, you already know what she’s going to say.

“Go in without me.” She sighs happily and looks up at the moon. “I wish to remain outside for a moment longer.”

You squeeze her shoulder before letting go. “Alright. The door’ll be unlocked whenever you decide you’re finished.”

You hum while unlocking the door, kicking your shoes off and hearing them thump against the wall of the entryway. Fumbling, you curse under your breath as you try to find the light switch—really, you’d think that after living here for almost a year, you’d be able to turn the lights on on the first try.

Light finally floods the room, and your humming resumes as you head into the kitchen to grab a drink. There’s a chill in the air, more figurative than literal, that causes goosebumps to rise on your skin. Your heartbeat quickens as you remove a glass from the cabinet, like your reflexes are trying to warn you of some unseen danger. Nervously, you hum a little louder while filling your glass up in the hopes that you’ll feel better. 

You don’t. How could you, when you look over the kitchen island into the living room and see a figure standing silhouetted against the back door? In fact, you feel much worse than nervous; now, you’re scared out of your wits, enough so that you scream upon realizing that there’s actually a man in your home, a man who is most definitely not supposed to be here.

You scream.

“Hello.” 

The man’s voice is deep, deeper than you think you’ve ever heard before. If he wasn’t currently in the act of breaking into your home, you’d think about how nice of a voice it is. Right now, it’s simply disturbing.

His eyes seem to twinkle in the darkness before he takes a step toward you, thus putting himself in the light. He’s paler than any living being you’ve ever seen, with long, unkempt black hair and cold blue eyes that seem like they can tell everything about you just from looking at you. He’s dressed in all black, with a long black coat completing his ensemble.

He’s not human, that much you’re sure of. You’ve spent enough time around Calliope in the past couple of months to guess that she is something more, and this stranger is the same. Power radiates off of him in waves, the same as it does with Calliope. Both are ethereally, sharply beautiful, in a way that lets lesser beings know that these are the true apex predators.

Even though it probably won’t help (now that you have the barest idea of what you’re dealing with), you pick up a kitchen knife from the dish rack and brandish it in front of you, thankful that you had cut up an apple last night and thus had needed your largest knife to do so. 

“Get the fuck out of my apartment!” 

He doesn’t move, choosing instead to just keep staring at you with those piercing eyes. You come out from behind the island, still holding the knife towards him. 

“Seriously, leave or I’m calling the cops,” you threaten, pulling your phone out of your pocket with your free hand.

This decision quickly has the situation going from bad to worse. The man seems to cross the entire room in a single step before slamming you against the wall, one hand wrapped dangerously tight around your throat. You gasp at the sudden violence, as well as the strength that he possesses under his lean figure, and both the knife and the phone fall from your hands as you try to figure out what to do. 

“Be quiet, mortal,” he spits venomously, his hand flexing around your throat. You attempt to grab at his hand to get him off of you, but he doesn’t budge. When you try to kick at him, he just leans more of his weight against you and renders you virtually immobile. “You are keeping a woman here, against her will. You will release her immediately, or suffer the most dire of consequences.”

“What? No, I’m not!” you argue.

Is he talking about Calliope? If so, he’s about two months too late in coming to her rescue. The only one that was holding her against her will was Ric Madoc, and he’s facing his own set of consequences for what he did.

Speak of the devil. Calliope chooses this moment to come in from her nighttime sojourn. You and your attacker both stare at the door as Calliope enters the apartment. She’s humming, much as you had when you first came in, completely in her own little world.

“Cal!” you cry out helplessly in an attempt to warn her, the only sound you can make before the man’s hand tightens again and cuts off all but a bit of your air supply. If given the chance, you’re not sure if you would tell her to run or ask for her help.

She takes stock of the situation before her with calculated eyes. Instead of surprise, shock, or fear, Calliope just looks…angry. Her bag drops to the floor next to her feet, and she makes sure to shut and lock the door behind her.

“Let them go, Oneiros,” Calliope commands, her hand landing on his shoulder.

Wait, Calliope knows him? Internally, you chastise yourself; obviously, she knows him, she called him by name! Still, you find yourself confused. She hasn’t mentioned having any contacts in the area. In fact, you distinctly remember her saying that she had “nobody” that first night you met her.

The intruder—Oneiros, apparently—does as Calliope asks, and you slide to the floor without his interference keeping you upright. Calliope slides down with you, landing on her knees in front of you as she looks you over with her big, brown eyes.

“Are you alright?” she asks, using her thumbs to wipe away your tears, tears that you weren’t aware you were shedding.

You nod. “I–I think so.” 

Despite your reassurance, your hand goes to your throat, and you try to rub away the soreness that’s already settling beneath the skin. When she begins to rub her hands up and down your arms, you realize that you’re shaking violently. Calliope stands and briefly leaves the room, leaving you and Oneiros in awkward silence until she returns with a blanket, which she gently wraps around you.

After she’s completed this task, Calliope wheels around to point accusingly at the man. “You are a fool, and you allow yourself to act without first thinking far too often.”

“Calliope–” he tries to interrupt, but Calliope shakes her head.

“What are you doing here?” she demands.

He scowls. “You called for me again, did you not?” 

“I did no such thing!”

“Really?” he questions with a raised eyebrow. “You did not write my name down prior to burning it?”

Calliope falls silent, because apparently that’s exactly what she did.

“I thought that what I had done to Richard Madoc worked, Calliope. Why did you not come to me sooner to tell me that he had sold you off instead?”

“Nothing of the sort has happened!”

“Then how did you end up bound to yet another mortal?”

“It is not what it looks like, Morpheus.”

“Explain it to me, then,” he pleads.

As the two continue to bicker above you, you feel increasingly like you’re interrupting in your own home. You shift uncomfortably, and Oneiros—Morpheus? Seriously, how many names does this guy have?—turns his sharp gaze upon you.

“You. How did you come to bind the Muse Calliope? What spell have you used to bewitch her?” He demands answers that you don’t have, and your shaking becomes worse under the full brunt of his stare.

“What?” You scramble to your feet so that you can at least pretend to be on the same ground as the two others here. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please, let us sit down and discuss this civilly,” Calliope interrupts, gesturing both of you towards the living room. 

After a moment of consideration, Oneiros/Morpheus nods tersely and walks in the direction that Calliope had pointed as though this is his home and not yours. You try to get your legs to move, but they steadfastly remain stuck to the spot you’re standing in. Calliope notices this and loops her arm through yours before gently guiding you into the living room.

“Why did he call you a Muse?” you whisper to her.

She presses her lips together in a thin line. “I will give you answers, I promise. It is…complicated.”

Though you’re not exactly satisfied by this answer, you trust Calliope, so you nod and silently agree to wait.

You don’t have to wait for long. Once everybody is seated (you in the chair perpendicular to the couch, with Oneiros/Morpheus on the couch and Calliope sitting next to him while simultaneously acting as a buffer between you), Calliope takes a deep breath and begins to explain everything. About who, and what, she is, how she came to be bound by a writer named Erasmus Fry, and how she was basically bartered for by Ric Madoc. She explains what they wanted from her, and she explains, unflinchingly, what they did to her to get it. Though it’s horrific, you listen to all of it. After all, if she’s willing to give, it’s only fair that you be open to receiving.

Calliope’s words seem to hang in the air long after she’s finished. The three of you sit in silence; Oneiros/Morpheus with a stony expression, you crying (you think you’ve cried more today than you’ve cried in a long, long time), and Calliope waiting calmly for you both to digest what she’s said.

In the end, it’s you who speaks first. “So you’re a goddess?” you ask.

“A Muse, yes,” she says.

“Like, of the Greek variety.” You need to confirm this for some reason, even though you already know the answer.

She laughs. “Yes.”

“A literal Muse is my best friend and roommate?”

You think that you might be going into shock right now

Oneiros/Morpheus scoffs, and you glare at him. “You have something to say?”

“You say that Calliope is your best friend. Then why do you not set her free?”

“Set her free? She’s a person, she’s free to do whatever she wants.”

“No, she is not. Calliope is bound to you, by the old laws.”

“Morpheus,” Calliope says sharply, a warning, but the man continues.

“You are enslaving a goddess and calling it friendship.” The disgust is clear on his face. “How can there be any sort of friendship when she is unable to leave, to do anything, without your say? You have complete and utter control over her, and you force her to pretend that it isn’t so. This farce that you’ve concocted must end now. I implore you to free her before I am left with no choice but to take further action against you.”

The room begins to tilt, and you shake your head in disbelief. “No…”

“They don’t know, Morpheus!” Calliope snaps.

“Cal, you—” 

You feel sick, and you genuinely think that you’re about to throw up. All this time, you thought you had helped to free her from her prison. Instead, she’s remained trapped, bound to you just like she was bound to Madoc and, as you’ve now learned, Erasmus Fry. These men took everything from an unwilling goddess, a Muse, and you’re basically no better than them. 

Swallowing down the bile that rises in your throat does nothing, so you close your eyes to take a couple of deep, shaky breaths in an attempt to calm down. That doesn’t work either, and you rise shakily to your feet before rushing over to the trash can in the kitchen and throwing up the wine and snacks that you had eagerly partaken in at Evie’s.

It’s humiliating, doing something as base and human as retching in the presence of two godly creatures. Everything about this situation is humiliating, if you’re being honest with yourself. You’ve unknowingly extended Calliope’s incarceration and deluded both of you into believing that it was friendship. How could you be a part of such a heinous act? Truly, are you no better than Madoc?

When you’ve finally thrown up everything in your stomach and then some, you’re full-on sobbing as you clutch at the trash can. Your knees give out, but Calliope catches you as you fall to the ground and wraps you in her embrace. She soothes you and murmurs words of comfort as she runs a hand through your hair, letting you cry in her arms when it should be the other way around. You don’t deserve her comfort, you think to yourself.

Once you finally have enough breath in your lungs to be able to talk, you gasp out between hyperventilating, “I’m so sorry. I–I didn’t know, and if I did, I would have never–”

“Shh,” she hushes you, grabbing your hands in hers. “My sweet friend, you have done nothing wrong.”

“But I–”

“I am the one who chose not to tell you. I trusted you in the beginning, and I trust you now. You have not failed me or abused me, or been a captor to me. Do you hear me?” She holds your face in her hands to make you look at her, and she waits until you nod to hug you once more.

“How do I free you?” you ask her. “Please, let me free you.”

“You must say that she is free,” your uninvited guest speaks up, making you remember that there’s a whole other person here. “And mean it.”

“Calliope, you’re free. You’ve always been free,” you say immediately, looking at her earnestly and hoping that she can see in your eyes how sorry you are.

Nothing physically changes. No burst of light envelops her, and she doesn’t undergo any sort of transformation. Yet, something in the air changes and becomes lighter. That inner glow that Calliope’s always carried seems to beam brighter now. Her shoulders look less weighed down now, no longer burdened by her forced captivity.

“Thank you,” Calliope says profusely.

“Don’t do that,” you say, feeling sick all over again. “Don’t thank me for something I should have done the second that Madoc threw you at me. I should have been smarter, more observant than I was. God, you deserve so much more than anything I can ever begin to give you.”

She’s not happy about your self-deprecation, but you will not be the source of her rage tonight. No, as she helps you once more to stand, her anger lands squarely on the man who barged in here and turned everything on its head.

“Apologize. Now,” Calliope demands. “What you have done here tonight is completely unacceptable and a new low, even for you.”

After thinking for a moment, perhaps to consider if he did transgress against you, he nods and stands like some sort of gentleman to properly address you. “The lady Calliope is right. I have acted deplorably towards you this evening, when you have done nothing but offer shelter and companionship to one needing it. I sincerely apologize for the pain and anguish that I have caused you.”

You nod warily, still tucked into Calliope’s side. “Thank you,” you say quietly. 

Truthfully, you do appreciate the apology. If he’s as powerful as you think he is, then he could have just as easily decided that you weren’t worth the breath it would take to form words, and that would be well within his right.

“Well, now that we’re all close to being on the same page here.” Calliope gestures to the man. “Allow me to introduce you to Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realms, et cetera, et cetera.”

“You’re a god too?” you ask.

“Not a god. I am Endless, one of seven anthropomorphic personifications of natural forces. I am far older, and far more powerful, than any god, and will remain long after all of your gods are dead and gone,” Morpheus explains.

You try to ignore the fact that one of the most powerful beings in the universe is currently sitting in your living room, lest you start to have an existential crisis in front of him. Now that Calliope’s told you his name, it rings a bell. “Wait, is he your ex?”

Morpheus looks at you both in surprise. “You have spoken of me?”

“Only tonight,” Calliope assures him. “When I…accidentally summoned you.”

The longer that you can think clearly without the threat of bodily harm, the more the puzzle pieces keep clicking into place for you. “He’s Orpheus’s dad, isn’t he?”

Calliope nods, and so does Morpheus, though he’s far more reluctant than she is. You don’t notice that, though, too caught up in your thoughts.

“Ha, Morpheus and Orpheus.” Maybe all of the crying has made you dehydrated, which in turn has left you a little delirious. That’s the only reason why you say this train of thought out loud. “What, if you had a daughter were you going to name her Alliope?” 

Calliope snickers at that, though Morpheus doesn’t share her amusement. “His name fit him perfectly, even though it was quite the coincidence that it was one letter off from that of his father’s.”

“God, I’m so stupid,” you bemoan. “How did I not know you were a goddess? I literally said, ‘Oh cool, like the muse’ when you introduced yourself! You must have thought I was an idiot.”

“It is difficult for the mortal mind to comprehend that which it believes to be fake. To you, that was the only connection that you subconsciously deemed possible,” Morpheus explains. Though he does it to make you feel better, it feels a little patronizing when it comes from someone as powerful as him.

“I wish you would have told me. Did you think that I wouldn’t have freed you? Because I would have!”

“I know that,” Calliope says. “Truthfully, I…forgot to tell you.”

“You forgot?” Morpheus says in disbelief.

At the same time, you ask, “How the fuck do you forget to tell someone that you’re accidentally bound to them?”

“At first, I was scared. That it was a trap, that you would be worse than Madoc. Of course, that lasted about twenty minutes.”

“What made you realize I was different?”

She smiles. “When you told me that the doors only locked from the inside. You cared about my privacy and that I was feeling safe, and I figured that you had no clue about anything that had happened, or about who I was. From there, it just wasn’t something that I thought to bring up. I was too frightened to leave the apartment, and I had been cut off from the world for over sixty years. Frankly, the idea of going out without you terrified me. As I began to regain control of my life and heal, it just became something that I thought about less and less. You are my best and dearest friend, and we do everything together, so why would I think about a bond other than the one that formed naturally?”

It’s very sweet of her to say, but you still have questions. “So you were just going to continue to live like this?”

“I did not have a plan, but I suppose so. I was happy here, with you.”

“Okay, but what happened if I got married one day, or like, had kids?”

“I would just be the fun aunt that lived with you and your family?”

“Jesus Christ,” you groan before sitting up suddenly. “Wait, is Jesus Christ real too?” 

Calliope and Morpheus share a look, and you’re suddenly frightened of the answer.

“No wait, don’t tell me, I don’t wanna know.”

You really, really don’t want to have an existential crisis until you can be alone in the comfort of your room.

Thankfully, Calliope and Morpheus take over the conversation from there, because you don’t think you have the mental capacity to try and further any conversation right now. They obviously have a lot to catch up on, since it seems like the last time they saw each other was when Calliope broke down and asked him for help escaping Madoc.

Instead, while they converse, you take a moment to zone out and try to process just what has happened in the past hour. The stranger that broke into your apartment turned out to be the powerful, eldritch nightmare king ex-husband to your roommate, who’s actually a goddess that was unintentionally bound to you. For reasons beyond your comprehension, he thought that she needed rescuing, and that you were the one that she needed rescuing from.

Your thoughts chase each other like a cyclone, and you try not to panic as you think about all of this. God, you need a drink right now.

When Morpheus and Calliope both rise, with Morpheus saying that he really must return to his kingdom, you rise with them. After all, how will you ever feel at ease if you don’t ask him what’s on your mind?

“Are we good now?” you ask. “Like, you’re not gonna hurt me or curse me? I promise I had no idea about any of this.”

“Yes, I know that now,” Morpheus says. “I will not harm you. If anything, I should be offering you a boon, for being such an immense help to one such as Calliope.”

“You owe me nothing. Neither of you do.”

Calliope leans in and kisses Morpheus on the cheek, so gently that you wonder if she even made contact. “Fare you well, Morpheus.”

He bows his head. “Goodbye.”

Between one blink and the next, he’s gone as though he was never here at all.

•••

That night, you dream, and for the first time, you’re aware of the fact that you’re dreaming.

You don’t know where you are, but it’s the greenest, lushest meadow you’ve ever seen. Wildflowers dance lazily in the breeze, and you can hear the low rush of a river behind the treeline. You’re tempted to lie down in the impossibly soft-looking grass and watch the clouds drift overhead, but before you can, you see them standing next to you.

Morpheus looks just as he did when you saw him in your apartment, only a lot less like he’s ready to murder you. The main difference is that he now sports robes fit for a king instead of his coat. His eyes, you also notice, are black pools of stars.

On the other hand, the Calliope you see before you is a complete departure from the Calliope you know and love. She’s wearing a white chiton that’s belted at the waist and her hair, which normally falls in curly waves, is braided back intricately. She shines, in a way that you’ve never seen, looking every bit the goddess that she is.

“Is this real, or am I dreaming?” you ask.

“Dreams are real,” Morpheus says with the slightest of smiles.

“Of course, my bad.”

Though it’s a picturesque dream, it’s stained with strokes of melancholy. On some level, you know what’s going to happen, and what Morpheus has brought you here for.

“You’re gonna leave, aren’t you?” you ask Calliope.

Selfishly, you’re hoping that she’ll say no. That she’ll tell you that your home is her home and where she’s meant to be. Yet even as you foolishly hope, you know that your ordinary apartment, your ordinary life, is no place for a goddess. No, she deserves far greater than that.

She smiles sadly, and that’s all the confirmation you need. “I think I must, at least temporarily. There is…much for me to do, back home on Olympus. I wish to reconnect with my sisters, for one. And though it is lofty of me, I wish to change the old laws so that we may never be enslaved on the whims of mortals ever again.”

“If anyone can change laws that are thousands of years old, it’s you.”

“Thank you…for everything these past two months. Truly, I do not know how I can ever properly thank you for what you have done for me.”

“You don’t have to do anything; just knowing that you’re safe and happy is enough for me. I’m so proud of you for taking your life back after everything you went through. You deserve all of the happiness and goodness that the world has to offer you.”

“I would not have been able to do it without you, you know. No matter how we came to know each other, I am glad that we did. You saved me.” She says it so earnestly, needing you to truly understand your impact on her recovery.

“You did that yourself, Cal. I was just along for the ride.”

“You have my utmost respect,” Morpheus says. “Not many would have taken in a stranger needing help from off the streets with nothing but the purest of intentions, and fewer still would have offered them friendship. Your bravery and kind heart shall not be forgotten.”

“You have my respect too, for what it’s worth.”

He looks at you in surprise. “Why?”

“Calliope told me that you didn’t end things on the best of terms. But still, when she called for help, you answered with barely a second thought, and did all you could to help.”

He stares for a moment before nodding and turning to gaze out across the meadow. To your unabashed delight, his cheeks tint a light lavender in embarrassment, unsure of how to take your compliment. You bite your lip to stifle your laugh and decide to not tease the King of Dreams…for now.

Though you’ve been putting it off, some sixth sense tells you that your time here is nearing an end. You turn to Calliope again, who already is trying desperately to keep her tears unshed. When you meet her eyes, she holds out her arms to hug you, and you gladly accept.

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble.

Calliope kisses your forehead before pressing hers to yours affectionately. “I shall miss you as well, more than you can even imagine.”

“Call me if you need anything, okay? If–if your sisters are ganging up on you, or if you need someone to watch the best movies of the two-thousands with you, or if you’re missing going to karaoke with the gang. I’ll drop everything and go to Greece, just say the word.”

She laughs, the sound uninhibited and joyful. “I know you will.”

“Goodbye, Calliope." You have no choice but to finally, reluctantly say the words you've been dreading to say. If you weren't to do it now, you know you'd never let go of her.

Calliope pulls away just enough so that she can look you in the eye. “May fortune go with you, my sweetest friend.”

•••

Calliope’s gone when you wake up, her belongings the only sign that she even existed here in the first place. Though you cry, they’re not tears of sadness; rather, they’re happy tears, because how could you not be happy for Calliope? She’s found her freedom and the strength to return home, to try and make a better world for herself and her fellow gods and goddesses. Truly, this is all that you ever wanted for her.

On her nightstand sits a folded-up note, your name written on the front in Calliope’s ornate script. You open it up to read it, and when you finish, you hold it to your heart.

I will always be close by in your heart, as you will always be in mine. No distance can change that. Should you need me, you need only pray to me, and I shall hear you. Continue to make the world as bright as you.

-Calliope

[residenthughes]

once bitten, twice shy

pairing: leon kennedy x gender neutral reader

word count: 3.8k (yippee!)

tags/warnings: college/university au, fluff, mentions of vomit/sick and alcohol

summary: house parties can be a strange place. they can be even stranger when you're about to throw up and have to argue to use the bathroom with a certain blue eyed, blonde haired boy too.

notes: my baby! so glad to have finished this! <3 i started writing this pretty much after my last fic (which received so much love, thank you so so much 💗) and finally came together after i went out myself, hehe. have deadlines/exams coming up soon so i'm not particularly sure how much i'll be posting on here until mid june, so mayhaps consider this a gift for not posting then? 🥹 haha, love u all and hope u enjoy!

You enjoyed a good night out once in a while. Your friends and yourself dressed to the nines as you dance the night away with liquor tainted lips and all the freedom in the palm of your hand. It was a great escape from the pressures of endless coursework and constant group meetings. You enjoyed a good house party, too. However, you hadn’t had much luck with those ones. Despite the smaller crowd it drew, the handful of new faces had you anxiously gulping away at your alcohol, ultimately leading to cringe-worthy videos your friends would show you the next day. Based on this, you should have known better - should have politely declined when your friends suggested attending her classmates’ house party and spent the night maybe regretting it. In spite of the myriad of reasons, the past week had been dreadful beyond words and it was an opportunity to wear your latest going out outfit. It was near impossible to say no.

So, here you are. Having the time of your life with friends, dancing under blue flickering lights and letting the night take you away. Well - that’s what you were doing. What you are doing now is desperately trying to find the toilet - your stomach was already uneasy due to the nerves of meeting new people at the party, so you’re sure the sugary drinks added to the alcohol in your system didn’t help either. You felt queasy and an urgent need to relieve yourself, still to no avail. The downstairs bathroom was occupied, so with the sickly feeling travelling up your system, you barge through the mob of people littering the hallways, hand over your mouth in a futile attempt to keep whatever was coming up down.

At the end of the upstairs hallway, your friend’s classmate explained there was an additional bathroom. You’ve never been more relieved to see anything more in your life. Without knowing it, you’re making a mad dash for it, bumping shoulders and mumbling a thousand sorrys. You’re a sight for sore eyes, you know you are, but with the pressing urge to not have witnesses to your untimely projectile vomiting, you really couldn’t give a damn.

You’re so happy to have found the bathroom, even if it may have also been occupied that your eyes miss another figure aiming for the room too. It’s only when your hand reaches for the doorknob that it’s shielded by another hand. Large and comforting. Your eyes search for the source.

Amidst the darkness that permeates the hallways, the blue mood lights provide glimpses into the mystery of the shadowy figure with gentle hands. His face, ivory in colour, is all slopes, features sharp and striking. His cerulean blue eyes framed by the length of his long eyelashes and dirty blond hair makes your heart stutter messily in your chest. For a split second, there is nothing you can do but stare in awe, the tall tales of infatuation spinning your head dizzy.

“Shit, did you wanna go first?” His voice sounds like a siren, sweet and melodic all at once.

With the countless thoughts zooming through your brain, you’re certain any words that would filter through your lips would be nothing except incoherent mumbles. You settle for a nod.

“Uh, hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I needa go too.” His hand is still over yours and if not for the terrible rumble in your stomach, it would have been swept off your feet, along with the sickeningly sweet pet name he gives you.

“Maybe try downstairs? I’m sure it’ll be free soon.” This is the first time you’ve spoken during your brief conversation. The quick raise of the handsome stranger’s eyebrows encourages sheepishness to gnaw at your skin, the pink hues of your cheeks deepening.

“Ocupado, ‘m afraid.” he grins with a sliver of teeth, facial expression moulding into the awkwardness that starts to circle itself around the two of you.

Your hand turns the doorknob faintly and you catch the desperation that flashes in his eyes at your actions. If you weren’t about to soil your new top with stomach acid, you would’ve let him go first, bashful as ever as you hoped you would find him later on in the night whilst hoping he’d spare you another glance. Nevertheless, that was not the case.

“I’m sorry but,” you gulp, trying to keep whatever was coming up back down. “I really, really, really need to go, so…”

He’s stubborn. Stubborn as an ass apparently, because his hand still remains on yours. “Of course, but equally, I need to go as well. Surely, there’s like a sink or something I can go in. I’m really desperate.”

You can’t help as you wrinkle your nose, your patience wearing thin. You literally have to be sick. Why is this not being addressed? “Can’t you just pee outside? Guys do that all the time, don’t they?”

“I’m not an animal, you know.” the handsome stranger argues, and your eye twitches.

How did you end up arguing with a good-looking guy outside a bathroom at a house party?

“I’m not being funny, but if you don’t move, I will throw up all over you.”

“I’ve been meaning to go for an hour now. Can’t we make some sort of compromise?”

You were at your wits end. “As if, you fucking masochist! I’m going first!”

And you do, barging into the blindingly white room with all your might and making a beeline for the toilet. A heavy sigh sounds behind you as you heave into the toilet, bracing yourself for the ugly sight that’ll swim before you.

You hear a zip being undone and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “Surely, you’re not…?”

“I told you I needed to go.” the voice comes from the shower beside you. The world spins. House parties fucking suck.

You opt to fully exit your bitter discussion, focusing on ugly turns in your stomach. Your hair circles your face and you curse yourself for not having tied it up beforehand because obviously, it was going to–

It flows out of you. Swiftly and without much difficulty. You lunge forwards into the toilet bowl as the vomit empties out of you whilst the shower runs briefly, followed by the sink.

You just wanna go home.

“Hey,” the call for your attention is docile, the boy’s voice more sympathetic now. “You got a hair tie on ya?”

At this point, you’re on your knees, throwing up your early dinner in front of a boy you bad mouthed because you both wanted to use the bathroom at the same time. There’s no point in being shy now. You want all the help you can get.

You manage to shimmy the hair tie off your wrist and hand it towards his vague direction. For how unacquainted you two are, you move in great harmony as the boy grabs the hair tie and captures all your hair with ease whilst you busy yourself with other pressing issues.

When he’s finished, hair away from your face and in a low ponytail, the warmth of his hand settles against your back. The tears brimming in your eyes fall into the toilet bowl, body still before slow caresses have you melting into the palm of his hand.

“I…I know one of the guys that lives here,” he volunteers, tone unsure. “I’m sure he won’t mind you using one of his spare toothbrushes underneath the sink.”

You only manage back a groan, the icky feeling of humiliation creeping up on you as you continue to exhale into the toilet bowl.

“I’ll be back.”

And the man who peed in the shower leaves. Ok, that was rude of you, he did just help you when you were vomiting in spite of not knowing you. You should have more compassion for him, instead of lashing out at him out of embarrassment. When he gets back, you should thank him for all his help and hope to never see him again. You didn’t think you could live comfortably with yourself if you ever saw him again.

The faint thumps of typical party hits hammer beyond the bathroom, pouring in briefly when the man comes back into the room. By this point, your stomach has settled and you’ve flushed the toilet, yet your head still remains somewhat in the toilet because you couldn’t bear to come face-to-face with the guilt wrapped up in the form of a handsome, kind stranger.

“He said it’s cool, just open the new pack in the grey caddy.” You hear joints crack besides you before there’s a pat on your back. The comfort it brings is enough for you to swallow your pride. “Also, there’s some water next to you. Figured you wouldn’t want to go looking for it.”

Regardless of the ever growing shame that wants to drown you into a sad shell of yourself, your heart swells. The unprompted kindness offered from the stranger is refreshing, you wish you could tell him how grateful you are for him without your shame keeping your head in the toilet bowl.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, wincing at the cringing sensations that course through your body. “Sorry for calling you a masochist earlier.”

He huffs out a bout of laughter and your heart feels lighter. “In all fairness, I was pretty crazy for holding it for that long, so I don’t blame you.”

You hated how you’d have to avoid this man after you two left this room. He was sweet, polite and made you laugh. Why did you have to meet under such ugly conditions?

“Thank you,” you exhale, feeling your heart bloom with the warmth he radiates. “Really.”

“No prob,” he lifts his hand off your back and suddenly, you’re cold again. “I’ll leave you to it. If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen. If not, probably fucking it up on the dancefloor.”

You mumble another thank you after the laughter that leaves your lips, the blue-eyed stranger exiting and leaving you to clean yourself up as ponder on his kindness for a little longer than necessary.

-

You manage to sneak past the kitchen without bumping into the kind stranger. If you weren’t embarrassed before, the embarrassment catches up with you now. Outside, where the cool October wind blows, you’re perched on a step of the back porch, curled into yourself as you breathe in and breathe out. Things could have been a lot worse. You could have thrown up all yourself, delirious and none the wiser as nasty spirited individuals videoed the spectacle, not intervening even once. You could have been in a worse state in front of the stranger, vomit embedded in your hair as you wailed to call your friends or to go home. It could have been so much worse, yet here you are, rocking away as you will yourself not to cry.

You blame it on the emotional turmoil that’s plagued your week. Your academic and interpersonal affairs bore a burden like never before, pushing you beyond your means countless times this week and eventually, as you self soothe in solitude, you succumb to their will. Your friends are worried sick, searching every inch of the unfathomably large house to find you. You shoot them a text, notifying them of your safety and the privacy you seek. With dozens of texts that express reassurance, you let out a sigh before the music playing inside is too good for you to ignore.

Call it foolish, but it’s the nostalgic sounds of 00s’ dance that help you pick up the pieces. Assist in the carefree attitude you adopt that leads you right back inside, finding your friends and changing the course of the night.

If only you knew your carefree attitude would have you right where you once were. Face to face with the handsome stranger, the ends of an empty beer bottle pointed towards you two as bystanders ooh and ahh.

“Get in there, Leon!” a friend - you assume - hollers, slurring his words as he lazily drapes against Leon’s rigid frame.

You two exchange a look, eyes seeking any kind of communication that would hint at what the future held.

Your hand is given a squeeze and suddenly one of your friend’s whispers into your ear. “He’s cute, go for it.”

You crimson. At her words and at the fact that your next encounter with Leon has come so soon. Relentless is the sensation of dread and cringe as it sinks into your bones and buries you into the ground. All eyes are on you and you want nothing more but cringe? Disappear? Run away? There’s so much going on in your head right now.

A hand is outreached. It’s as if a lifeforce beyond yours comes down to save you, extending their hand to sail you away to safety. Alias, it is nothing but a figment of your imagination as you peer up, eyes sparkling as Leon’s tall figure towers over yours. For a second, you can’t read his facial expression, can’t comprehend the logistics of your predicament. However, when the edge of his lips curl upwards, pleasant and mellow in nature, there’s a sense of relief that starts to wash over you.

“Ready if you are.”

He has a way with words. He must have. Otherwise you wouldn’t have felt so comforted on that bathroom floor, otherwise you wouldn’t be in some confined closet, little to no light with the same person you threw up in front of.

“Well,” he starts off after a minute or two of silence. “This is…”

“Awkward.”

A cough is followed by silence. Then laughter.

Out of all the people at this party, the universe had to fabricate yet another meeting with Leon. The guy who you basically cussed out in order to use the bathroom. The same man that after washing his hands, held your hair up for you and soothed your sickness with a gentle back rub. There is nothing more you want to do right now than crawl out of your skin.

“You feeling a bit better now?” Leon’s voice is hushed when he talks to you, gentle and filled with unexpected care.

Despite the awkwardness of your situation, you can’t help disregarding such lame state of feeling as you lean into his kindness. “Yeah, I had a bit more water and was outside for a bit, so I’m pretty much sober now.”

Your fingernails dig into the flesh of your palm. A nervous tic. “Thank you. And, sorry.”

Leon appears to relax into the flow of conversation, moving his body to lean against the wall of the compact closet you find yourselves in. As he shuffles, notes of smoky vanilla waft in the air, Leon’s cologne finding its way to you. The smile you hide behind a closed fist is all kinds of bashful, body drawn to the intoxicating nature of the fragrance.

“I wasn’t terribly nice to you either, so think of it as making amends,” his hand extends forwards, bridging the gap between the two of you. “Truce?”

Amusement tugs at the ends of your lips, humoured by the hints of unseriousness that seems to be a recurring theme in your story. Going from badmouthing one another to being shoved into a tiny closet for Seven Minutes in Heaven and forced to call truce. It’s the kind of bizarre story that hangs in the air after a night out, disgustingly hungover in bed as your friends jam into someone’s room and recall the night’s events.

“Truce.”

You shake on it, pulling away when the flutter of your heart tickles your chest.

Through the dim sliver of marmalade orange light that peeks through the bottom gap of the door, you catch glimpses of Leon. The sharp slants of his jaw, the heavy flutter of his eyelashes, the sheepishness of his smile - all lopsided and accompanied the hues of strawberry jam red. He’s trying his best and it’s endearing. As is he. Charming and caring, a little silly yet undeniably sweet. Perhaps your perspective on him is a bit skewed due to the remnants of alcohol that float in your system, but if you happened across the same dirty blond, blue eyed boy on campus, you know your heart would still beat the same.

“Three minutes!” Someone yells beyond the door, prompting an uptake in your breath.

Never too forward, Leon draws closer to you, hands to himself as he suggests, “We could just head back out, if you’d like. I’m sure they’re not gonna be too up their asses about it.”

You don’t miss a beat. “I don’t want to.”

You’re both caught off guard. Your eyes widened and Leon’s eyebrow raised. It’s as if you’ve been exposed, barenaked for all the world to see your secrets. In itself, your response isn’t the strangest. Anyone would assume after calling truce, your allocated time meant to be spent together could foster the beginnings of a friendship, a friendly conversation. Even so, Leon and yourself were getting ahead of yourselves - reading in between the lines, sifting for something that was there.

“I mean,” the wardrobe is suddenly indescribably small, the surface of your cheeks warming as your eyes dart all over the place. What is going on here? “We could always just talk or…”

“Or what?”

Leon’s being mean. He knows he is. But, he can’t help himself. Jumping the gun, clawing at any and every opportunity to be close to you. Leon spotted your figure earlier during the course of the night, eyes capturing the shimmer in your eyes and bounce of your hair as you happily twirled your friends around on the dancefloor. You were simply magnetic, doused in dazzle and delight as your glittery makeup highlighted your timeless beauty. Leon would’ve approached you, winning you over with his charm and foolish dance moves - but he needed a drink. A drink which became two, two which became three and ultimately he broke the seal, landing him on a collision course with you outside the bathroom.

This isn’t how he imagined meeting you.

Nevertheless, you were together and despite the not-so-great circumstances presented, Leon made the best of it. Helping you and being the gentleman he is. And even if you never saw each other again, he would still remember you for all the shimmer in your eyes and just how infectious your smile was.

Now, under more favourable conditions, he doesn’t want his time with you to end. You’re just as captivating up close, if not more. Timid yet so sweet. Leon gets lost in you - lost in the details of your hair, your voice, your eyes. He wonders if the longer he prolongs your conversation, the sooner you’ll see his attraction towards you. Hopes you’ll reciprocate, hopes you’ll see it too.

“I don’t know.” You settle for, casting your eyes away from Leon as you twiddle your thumbs.

You want to be close with Leon, maybe kiss him if you could. But, you just don’t know. He’s seen you at your worst, sick in the toilet without a thought behind your eyes. You’re still embarrassed - even if Leon makes good work of fending that off. And perhaps because of that, along with other complexities, you want to be close with him.

If only he’d let you.

There’s a huff of frustration before something knocks your shoe. You look, examining Leon’s tired Converse shoe that nestles against your own pair of shoes. Your heart stills.

“I saw you earlier,” he starts, standing tall as he inches closer towards you. His pools of blue know only the sight of your lips, pink in hue and supple with lipgloss. He briefly looks away for his own good. “You looked really good on the dance floor.”

The gravity of your current reality settles in quick. Leon’s with you. Initiating everything and bringing this whole charade to a close. Your instinct is to wrestle with the reasons why, question his intentions and ultimately, take a step back. But, you’re exhausted. You’ve done enough mental gymnastics to last you a lifetime. You know you want this, so why can’t you have it? The answer is clear now. You take the plunge, hands grasping onto his backarm as you test the waters. “You think so?”

You’re gazing into each other’s eyes now, nowhere to run or hide. Leon hums in response yet still searches for something in your eyes - a glimmer of hope, confirmation to proceed and gets it in the form of you leaning into him with the bat of your eyelashes. His arms circle your waist, hesitant at first but solid in their place on the small of your back. You’re already seeing stars.

“Leon?” your voice is barely above a whisper, forehead pressed against Leon’s as you grow impatient.

He hums in reply. “Can we? Can we-”

“Can we kiss?” he says this, lips brushing up against yours. You grip his broad shoulder extra hard incase you buckle at the knees.

“Please,” you only manage to get out before your lips connect.

Leon shows you just how much he wants this, how much he wants you in his kisses. Gentle yet firm in his desire, his lips envelope yours in a way that sets your heart ablaze. Your brain short circuits, the sparks soaring between the two of you insatiable as you melt into each other. Your hand falls to brace yourself against Leon’s chest, the accelerated patter of his heart vibrating against your palm. You can’t help the smile that blends into your kiss, opening an invitation for Leon’s tongue that glides against the flesh of your bottom lip.

“Time’s up!”

His teeth plunge into your bottom lip lightly. You separate with a whine.

There’s a moment before the door opens, time where your eyes scan over Leon to gather all your thoughts and take him in. His pupils are full blown, his arctic blue irises submerged in the dilation of his pupils, lips plump with need and breath laboured. He looks far away, as if he is immersed in a dream that’s too good to be true and judging by the smile that graces his face, you’re sure you look the same.

“Need a mint?” Leon’s all jokes, smile giddy and besotted.

You roll your eyes in response, playfully jabbing his hard bicep with a closed fist. “Says the one who stuck his tongue down my throat.”

“Guilty as charged,” he holds his hands up in surrender, eyes giving you their undivided attention. “Wouldn’t mind doing that again though.”

He punctuates his point with circling his arm around your waist, drawing you in close before placing a delicate kiss against the flushed skin of your cheeks. It’s shameful how much you like this guy already.

“You’re disgusting.”

The door opens and you leave the closet happier than you ever were before.

[hanlimz]

lol i wrote this at 2am bc i love jungwon sm and i needed to word vomit so i can focus on this stupid essay i have to write 💔 be gentle w this bc it’s not that good haha !! pls enjoy ❤️

the incessant ringing of your phone is a cacophony of sound pressed against your ear as you wait with bated breath. it’s been a week since jungwon was last able to call, a week since you were able to hear his voice; and, it’s been even longer since you’ve been able to touch him (in any capacity). your palms are itching for the opportunity to cup his face, and your lips are yearning to pepper gentle kisses over the apples of his rounded cheeks.

so, you picked up your phone and clicked on his silly contact photo. while you wait, you count the ceiling tiles. you see how long you can go without blinking. you lose track of time, and you eventually try to freestyle over the stock ringtone. just as you rhyme sublime with you’re mine, the noise stops and jungwon begins to laugh. why he always manages catches you at your worst—you will never know.

“i hope that rap was about me,” he snorts airily, amusement having stolen his breath away. you can almost see his pretty face through the phone; the way the corners of his lips quirk up, his dimple deepening, the gentle reshaping of his eyes as they wane into two, umber crescents. laughter is so transformative, and you’re glad you can see it (even if only in your mind). “oh, [y/n], also—i just posted some selcas on we—” the phone cuts out, and the momentary silence slices at your heart.

“won? you still there?” you ask, tentatively, “i promise the rap was about you. cross my heart, hope to die.”

jungwon’s pseudo-presence floods your chest once more as he chuckles. “that’s good to know, babe—but, no dying on my watch, ‘kay?”

“bold of you to say when you’ve left me here,” you scoff.

“to die?” he inquires, another bout of giggles hiding behind his words.

“to die,” you answer, dramatically. “to wither, to waste away with no boyfriend to sing me to sleep and kiss me when i’m sad.”

the line goes quiet for a few seconds, and it’s almost a comfortable silence. something lurks behind this pregnant pause, however, and you can’t help but feel stifled by the heavy weight building in your stomach. jungwon is overthinking—the feeling is palpable. he’s chewing on his bottom lip and you can almost taste his vanilla chapstick; the nail of his thumb is worn down to the quick in the same way he’s bitten at the inside of his cheek.

“jungwon, you know i’m just joking, right?” there’s a hint of regret lacing your voice, a tinge of melancholy, but it mixes with a resolute affirmation of your love for him. “i miss you, but i couldn’t be more proud of you. watching those clips of you on stage, seeing you enjoy yourself—it all makes me love you even more. you’re doing so well.”

“i know,” he sighs, sounding exceedingly dejected. “i just feel like i can’t give you what you need—like i can’t be who you deserve from this far away.”

your jaw goes slack upon hearing his confession. his words shock you to your core; strong-willed yet so fragile-hearted, why your lover is so critical of himself—you will never know. in your eyes, jungwon is nothing short of angelic; ethereal in a way only known by beings of the heavens, jungwon brightens every room he walks into and makes your day better by merely existing. he is a sanctuary of sorts—warm and inviting and gentle.

“are you insane?” the question tumbled from your mouth before your brain could formulate a better response.

he hums, inquisitively, “i don’t think so?”

“okay, not exactly how i wanted that to come out,” you concede, “but—seriously, won—you’re my everything. you never have to worry about me wanting more, because you’re already who i want. who i need. and, honestly, i don’t know what i did to deserve you.” you know he’s flushed on the other side of the phone, cupping a sweater paw over his face while trying not to giggle and swing his feet like a schoolgirl. “yang jungwon, i love you very much, and i’m always so, so thankful for you … so, tell your brain to stop beating you up, or i’ll kick its slimy, little ass.”

“thank you, [y/n]. i love you, too.” he laughs for a moment, then stops himself, “wait—did you just say my brain was little?!”

[hannie-dul-set]

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

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

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

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

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

reposted because tumblr is an ass.

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you kids having fun?”

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

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

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

“I look forward to working with you.”

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

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

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

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

“Um, hello.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes. Next to Choi Beomgyu. “Maybe?”

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

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

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

Click!

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

“Three more!”

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

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

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

“Alright! Thank you, everyone!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re here!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Perfect. Let’s go!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to work with him instead?”

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

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

You look at him, horrified.

“Haha, what do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please— please excuse me.”

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

“Better! That’s great—”

Oh. It’s just your heartbeat.

“—perfect!”

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

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

“Yup! You both look great!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um. Sprite, please.”

“Hyung! Get us two Sprites. Thanks!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Call me if you change your mind.”

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

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

“Ah, ah, ah. Testing, testing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“First place goes to the reds!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just need to transfer their files right?”

“Yup, yup.”

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

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

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

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

He raises a brow. “Who?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums. “You must be pretty good.”

You grin. “I don’t want to brag but—”

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

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

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

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

“I think I have a crush on you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry! Text me if you need anything!”

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

“Can I tell you something?”

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

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

She’s staring at you.

“But I’m over him now.”

Speechless, with widened eyes from surprise.

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

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

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

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

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

You smile at her. “Thanks.”

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

Your brows knit in confusion.

“Because Beomgyu was there!”

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

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

“Sorry,” you apologize.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums. “Go ahead.”

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

“You spelled my name wrong.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With Beomgyu.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s the catch?” you raise a brow.

“The...catch?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Welcome back, hyung.” Soobin greets him.

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

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

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

“Look down.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you?”

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

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

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

“Just go to the Cultural Center!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s pretty.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ohhh? Soobin, you’re here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kids have gotten bolder these days.”

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

In other words, he’s dangerously attractive.

“Hyung.”

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

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

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

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

“She isn’t.”

“I overheard the commotion earlier, though?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry?”

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

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

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

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

“Ah, is that so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh! Right—”

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

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

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

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

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

“So did I!” adds Jake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon sits back down. “Seriously?”

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

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

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

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

“Maybe I will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think it’s too sudden,” says Jake.

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

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

“Well— yeah.”

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

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

Saturday.

Hm?

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

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

Can’t wait :)

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I see you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve been in a great mood lately.”

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

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

“What do you want, Chair?”

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

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

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

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

He grins. “Genius, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds like a curse to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought so too.” you reply.

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

“What do you think?”

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

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

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

“Cheers!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blink at him. “Ex— excuse me?”

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

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

“I’m gonna go get some fresh air.”

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

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

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

“Whoa. Are you okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do,” he says.

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

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

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

“It’s pretty warm out.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Try some karaage.”

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

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

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

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

“How did you know?!”

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

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

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

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

“I miss him.”

“I miss him, too.”

This is gonna take a while.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You throw a pillow to his face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Chair. Drive safe.”

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

“Are you actually joining?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For what?” he asks.

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

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

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

“You too.”

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

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

“Finish!”

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

“Next station, guys! Let’s go!”

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

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

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

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

“We can win this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Green, out!”

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

“White, out!”

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

“Purple, out! Blue, out!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have a new crush.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You seem very happy today.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No! These two can handle it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Should I tell you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why am I suddenly nervous?”

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

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

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

“Sorry— what is it?”

“You have a customer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s on the house.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What should we do when exams are over?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, I’m cold too.”

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

“Holy shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh no, what’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Twelve-twenty-seven. Life check.”

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

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

“I’m awake.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

Oh god. “No, but I’m about to.”

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

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

“Sprite,” you reply.

“Alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You look pathetic.”

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

“Just shut up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re seriously so fucking screwed.

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?” you answer after three rings.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So...this isn’t about work?”

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

Now, it’s you that grows quiet.

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

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

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

“Can we meet at COEX in an hour?”

“Sounds good. See you.”

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

“You’re here early.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks for the information.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm, right. I did,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

He looks at you. “I did.”

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will do. Happy new year.”

“Happy new year.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ask him out already.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We should all have lunch first,” he says. “This is gonna be fine. We have a lot prepared.”

You nod. “You guys get inside first,” he says before running off into the second bus that arrived to give Myungho some instructions.

You peek into the bus, “Those with umbrellas, please share with those who don’t. It’s a short run to the accommodation. Please don’t forget to bring your valuables with you.” You watch by the doors as your orgmates leave in two’s and three’s uphill, and you can feel yourself starting to get damp due to the unstable direction of the rainfall.

The last person comes out, and he ducks underneath your umbrella. It’s Soobin. Your eye’s meet, and he’s wearing a sheepish grin. Before you know it, he’s got his hand wrapped on yours, tightly clutching the umbrella handle and suddenly, puddles are splashing underneath your feet as you run into the same direction. A squeak escapes your throat when you hear the rain pour harder, and Soobin pulls you closer with his free hand as the rain threatens to soak you.

“Are you two shooting a youth drama?”

You’re out of breath when you reach the porch of the large house, but you still manage to shoot Heeseung a dirty look for that comment. You glance at Soobin, who still has your umbrella. He’s ruffling his hair and shaking his head like a wet puppy. “I’ll go grab the boxes from the bus. Can I borrow this for a while?” You nod, and he smiles. “Come and help me,” he drags the unwilling Heeseung back into the pouring rain, and you turn back, nudging everyone to get inside the house once they’ve dried up.

“Oh, look who we have here,” you turn to see Jeonghan, walking back out with two mops from the house. “You look pretty happy for someone who just got rained on.”

Your eyes land on Yura, and guilt settles when you catch her expression before she goes back to smiling at Jeonghan and takes the other mop from him. You plan on having a conversation with her later, and you plan on settling everything today. “The day will come where I’ll eventually kick your ass, seonbae. Please reflect on your sins until then.” You bid him off with a bland smile, and you settle inside the warm floors of the room.

It’s two houses connected to each other, two floors each, large enough for twenty to thirty people in total. Mingyu says he’s unsure if there will be enough room upstairs for everyone to sleep in, but there are some that won’t be staying overnight, and you’re sure that the sleeping arrangements will be wherever everyone ends up passing out after getting alcohol-bombed throughout the night.

“Alright, everyone please gather around!”

Mingyu’s voice pierces through the dozens of conversations happening at once. It’s a miracle that the rain is finally letting up after you finish your lunch. “T-shirts are distributed by size so please line up in front of the assigned officers. You can change immediately after receiving yours.”

You’re only able to change into the Shutter shirt after handing out everything from your pile. You happen to bump into Beomgyu after changing, walking down the stairs. “Cute. The shirt looks good on you.” You’re taken aback, but you laugh out a smile.

“Thanks. Did you get yours yet?”

“No. Mingyu hyung is holding it hostage upstairs.”

“Good luck,” you tell him. “I’ll go set up the projector.”

You hop down the last set of steps and are immediately blocked by Soobin when you turn to the living room, bumping into him. “Oh,” you look up. “Were you here the whole time?”

“I was waiting for you,” he says, picking on a stray thread from your shirt collar, and he flicks it off to the side. “I couldn’t find the file for the presentation.”

“Ah, it’s with me. Hold on.”

You drag Soobin into the little tech-area you set up in the living space, passing through the lights the machine is projecting at the white cloth set up against a wall. As you’re tinkering on the laptop, looking for the PPT you made somewhere in the chaos of your files, Soobin is leaning down and watching you work, one arm outstretched on the back of your chair to balance himself. “I thought I didn’t like him anymore,” he says out of nowhere. You stop digging through your files and look up at him— oh, Beomgyu— then resume. His face tells you that it’s just to provoke you, but you entertain his provocations anyway.

“I don’t,” you reply. “But I do like being called cute.”

“Hmm,” he sounds out. “That’s right. Yeonjun hyung called you cute, too.”

You cough out a noise. “What are you getting at, Choi Soobin?”

He laughs at the dirty look you’re giving him. “I just wanted to say that I think you’re cute too.”

For someone who admitted that he gets nervous sweats around you, he sure is getting shameless and bold. You ignore the heat prickling at your cheeks, slamming your hands down the table after opening up the presentation, and leaving into the kitchen to get some of the lemon water Myungho made. If Mingyu were to see you right now, he’d be having a mother fucking field day. Thank god he’s busy keeping everything in check.

“Alright, it’s time to officially start Shutter.TXT’s new year’s party and sensitivity training! We’ll begin with an opening message from our very own Chairperson, Kim Mingyu, and after that, the anonymous message table will be opened once more. Chair, you have the floor.”

Beomgyu and Yura are hosting today (after the last event, you’re sure Mingyu decided that hosting isn’t for him). You’re back next to Soobin, helping him manage the technicals, and the afternoon passes by with the various party games you guys prepared— with prizes, of course because no one would join without an incentive. The screen is projecting a picture of Yoon Jeonghan as a baby and everyone yells out their names, hands raised to guess who the pudgy gremlin is. He didn’t submit the photo, of course. You had to dig into his mother’s Facebook account to find it.

“Correct! The answer is our Business Manager, Yoon Jeonghan!” You click to the next slide as Chan runs up front to get his prize. “Before we head to picking the raffle winners sponsored by our Chair, let’s take a break and pick out some messages from the confession box first!”

Your memory flashes back to one confession you got last time, and your eyes flash up at Soobin. “Did you send anything?” you ask him.

“Maybe I did,” he hums. “You?”

“I didn’t have the time,” you reply, a smile tugging on your lips. “So I might just end up doing it in person.”

Your attention is caught when you hear Beomgyu read one of the messages into the microphone, and you hear your full name echoing through the speakers. “Ohhh, this one’s for our Assistant Layout Director!” and he repeats for your full name once more. You look at Soobin, but choose not to say anything when he’s so intently waiting for Beomgyu to read out loud the message. “I’ve liked you since March of last year and my feelings have only grown as each month passes. What other signs should I give you?” He’s practically pouring his heart into your lap and you’ve been so stupid as to ignore it with every passing season.

“Alright, alright, everyone please settle down, I know that last one was thrilling but we have another confession for—”

The rest of the activities finished without a hitch, and Heeseung managed to win the ramen cooker Mingyu bought as the grand prize for the raffle. When the sun fell and stars started settling in the sky, the front yard finally dried up enough for everyone to set up for dinner.

“Hyung! Come take over the grill!”

Smoke fills the air as you bump glasses over the picnic table, and soft music hums from the portable speakers Beomgyu brought. The night is cool, still stuck in the middle of winter. You leave a pat on Chan’s shoulder before you leave the group, passing by the large blue cooler near the grill to scoop up two beer cans before sauntering over to the downslope path.

There isn’t a staircase, so you’re careful with your steps, slightly buzzed from the early shots you had earlier. Your eyes land on Yura, sitting on the grassy knoll while staring off into the treeline. “Hey,” you greet her, and she looks up behind. You raise the blue can, smiling. “Brought something to refresh our emcee’s throat. You did a great job today.”

She smiles.“Thanks. You too.”

You take a seat next to her on the ground and your cans open together with a hiss, clinking lid tops before taking a hefty swig in mutual silence. After a while, you speak up. “We’re both working too hard,” you say. “But we didn’t even get to win a single damned prize from the raffle.”

“I would’ve been happy with the box of tampons, honestly,” she laughs.

“Me too. Even the dead matchstick would be good enough.”

The tree leaves rustle when a breeze passes. You know what you came up to her for, but you don’t know how to bring it up. The metal is cold between your teeth as you ponder, biting on the beer can after you let the drink sizzle down your throat.

Much to your surprise, it’s Yura that brings it up. “I want to tell you that I’m completely over Soobin,” she says. “I should’ve moved on after the first rejection, but I think the second one was enough to give me a reality check.”

You stare at her. “Are— are you serious?”

“Just pretend and believe that I am. Don’t ask questions,” he proclaims, closing her eyes with an affirmative nod. You can see her veins popping on the back of her hand as she holds the can.“Yup. So don’t hold yourself back anymore and do whatever you want.” You eye her in worry. It doesn’t go past her radar. Yura settles the drink on the ground beside her and grabs your two hands.

She pulls them close to her, smiling. “We’re friends. I’ll always be happy for you.”

You don’t need her to say it outright. Maybe it’s better for her that way. Your hands wrap around her and you give her a squeeze. “Thanks.”

“Ah,” she starts cocking her head. “This should’ve happened sooner. Gosh, I need another drink. Let’s go raid the cooler.”

With that she pulls you up and drags you back to the rest of your peers. As soon as you’re within earshot, Mingyu calls out the both of you to eat more, boasting how nicely he grilled the beef this time. “We’ll be the judge of that!” Yura yells back, and you spend the rest of the night with a few weeks worth of weight on your chest finally lifted, making it easier for you to breathe in the clean air of the rural neighborhood.

Your initial predictions are right. At three in the morning, almost everyone is passed out scattered areas of the two houses, and you’re having a bit of difficulty trying to evade the obstacle of bodies when you enter the living room after cleaning up outside. I doubt we could go through with the program in the morning, you think when you pass by Beomgyu’s unconscious body hanging onto Heeseung as you make your way up the stairs to wash up. Waking everyone up would take at least two hours.

It’s a lot more civilized upstairs. Some of the girls gathered in one room and are sleeping soundly on the mats and blankets. You do your best to keep quiet as you prepare for the night, but even after bathing and giving yourself a change of clothes, the moonlight from the open window keeps you up with its brightness. You give up sleeping and head back downstairs. There, you see a familiar silhouette snuggled up on the couch and taking up all of its space. He’s squirming when you walk up to him, tugging the blanket that’s half on the ground, and you let out a soundless laugh.

You’re on the floor watching Soobin’s face scrunch up as he sleeps. His mouth is pouting, and one of his arms hangs off the sofa when he turns, facing you. You bring your knees closer to your chest. He’s pretty even when sleeping.

Right when you plan on leaving, you hear him mumble out your name— in full, like he always does. It’s barely coherent, a slur of syllables, but you can recognize your name in his voice. “You’re still awake...?” he asks, rubbing his barely open eyes. You settle yourself back down with a smile, hugging your knees.

“Mhm,” you reply. “I was thinking.”

He’s still half-asleep. You can tell when tries getting up but he only makes it a few inches up the sofa before his head surrenders to the armrest. You shouldn’t be making any noise. There’s at least five more people sleeping in the room, but a noise escapes in spite of your tightly pressed lips when his fallen arm reaches out for your hand, looping his index finger with your pinky. “What were you thinking about?”

Your hands fiddle around with his, tracing invisible shapes on each print and surface as his hazy eyes flutter back and forth in between wake and sleep. “I was thinking about how much I like you,” you say softly. “That’s why I couldn’t sleep.”

Silence befalls, and you’re sure he’s dozed off again. But when you turn to check on him, his eyes are fully open, wide awake. You’re still holding his hand, waiting for something to happen, and that something happens when you feel his gentle but firm grip on your wrist, pulling you up from the ground and your footsteps patter against the moonlight leaking into the wooden living room floor, until a sharp cold bites your feet when you enter the kitchen.

“Okay,” he exhales with a voice clearer than his earlier murmurs, still holding your hand. It’s dark. You can barely see anything, but there’s enough light from the window to make-up Soobin’s silhouette, and you’re still breathless from the sudden sprint. “I’ll give you five seconds to take back what you said, but if you—”

It’s soft, you think. So soft, when adrenaline takes over you and you jerk forward, lips clumsily bumping into each other in exhilaration. Soobin’s wide eyes are staring into yours, and neither are moving away. You’re not sure if it’s your own heart beat you’re hearing, his, or the both of yours thumping in an unfamiliar rhythm.

“Is someone there?”

You’re tugged away again, and before you know it you’re crouched under a table, and all the light you can see are the streams pouring underneath the small gap between the floor and the tablecloth.

“Did you hear something?”

“I thought there was someone here.”

Your eyes flash up from the ground and you’re once again met with Soobin’s clear gaze. It’s a small table, and Soobin is trying his hardest not to collapse onto you. His arms cage you in between, and you cover his head with your hands so he doesn’t bump against the table.

“Probably from outside.”

You can only guess your expression right now. It’s probably mirroring his— panting ever the slightest, trying his best not to smile too much, trying to soak in the moment that’s been months in the waiting.

It’s the first time your apartment has been this loud.

You don’t know what you got yourself into. A merger between your friends from your major and your friends from Shutter was a disaster waiting to happen. And it is happening. Beomgyu and Taehyun shouldn’t have met, Myungho shouldn’t be drinking with Jay and the rest right now, and you can hear Mingyu talking shit about how he knew you and Soobin were meant to be from the very beginning to every person he sees.

“I’ve been shipping them since day one!” he proclaims proudly to Jake. “Your friend wouldn’t believe me when I—” and your boyfriend promptly tells him to shut up, Jeonghan teasing him along with Heesung.

“When I saw them at the festival, I knew something was up!”

“I made a mistake,” you say out loud. “Holy crap, this is noisy.”

Then you’re dragged by the girls for questioning when Yunjin and Kazuha spill to Yura your series of unfortunate romantic events last year until Soobin happened. “You guys are missing a detail,” you sigh. “It’s time to be honest. I also had a crush on Taehyun for a total of like, two days.”

“What?” exclaims Yunjin?

“What?” echoes the rest of your friends.

“Hold on, when did this happen?” Soobin is back to your side. You haven’t told him either. He only knows up until Huening.

“Christmas party. It was a temporary moment of weakness because I was sad and hormonal,” you explain. “Don’t look at me like that, Choi Soobin. It didn’t last long. Things became clear when we went out for dinner on new year’s eve.”

You hear a gag from Sunghoon and Yunjin freaks out. “You had dinner together?! How come I wasn’t aware of this?”

“Ew, I can’t believe you had a crush on one of us,” spouts Jay, but Jake quickly turns it against him.

“Like you’re one to talk. You had a crush on her throughout the first week of classes.”

“Now, why the fuck would you tell her that?”

They fight. You take the opportunity to escape the scene, dragging Soobin to the safe space of your room before you can get a headache from the mess outside. “I think I should’ve just introduced you to them one by one,” you sigh against the door. “I’m sorry. They must’ve been tiring.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he assures, already taking a spot on the floor beside your bed. “Of course, it’s still better when it’s just you and me.”

Slowly, you pull yourself off the door and plant yourself right in front of him, sitting cross legged. He waits for you to speak, eyes expectant. You give in. “Are you upset that I didn’t tell you about my two day crush on Taehyun?” You didn’t expect him to laugh at that.

“No. I’m actually glad you didn’t,” he starts. Soobin leans forward a little, picking up your hands from the floor and he starts twiddling with them as he lets his mind speak. “I was always hesitant to do or say anything because you always had your eyes set on someone else, but I just couldn’t do nothing. I liked you a lot, and I only fell deeper as we got closer. I thought I might explode if I didn’t let it out somehow. I only got the courage to call you that day because I thought you didn’t have feelings for anybody anymore,”

“But I did,” you correct. “I’m pretty sure I already liked you then.”

You pause for a moment. “Actually, I’m sure I liked you even before that.”

He breathes out a smile. “I’m glad.” Soobin lets go of you— only for a moment because he lets himself sink forward, arms locking you in place like the time you were trapped under the table during the Shutter outing. It’s late at night, too. Nothing but the moon illuminating the floorboards through your bedroom window, except this time, your eyes aren’t looking at each other. You follow his gaze, and you let out a little laugh. “Choi Soobin,” you call out, and his eyes snap back up. “You know, you can kiss me if you want to, right?”

It’s like he said. He gets nervous around you. You can see him swallow hesitantly, the air around you growing thicker, and he breathes out, “Are— are you sure?”

You dip your fingers into his hair, and he chases after when you trail them down to his cheek. His face is soft, softer than a gentle spring bloom. “You can do whatever you want."

Soobin presses his lips together. “Then...close your eyes”

Your eyes follow, and within a few seconds you can feel nothing but the teasing burn of his lips barely grazing above yours like it’s the summer sun, but then feel his grip on your shoulder, and the air gets colder when you suddenly feel a distance.

He��s red when you open your eyes, a pretty shade of warm, autumn sienna painting his cheeks and ears. “Sorry, I just—”

You don’t let him finish. You pull yourself into him and the plush of his lips are soft against yours— still as soft as you remember and you let yourself drown in his heat and warmth, and he does the same, tugging you onto his lap so he can pour all his year’s worth of love and ardor into you with every kiss, peck, whisper like it’s a winter present.

“You’re really doing whatever you want,” you laugh as soon as he presses a kiss on the skin peeking from your left shoulder.

“I’ve been holding back for months,” he whines into your neck, arms firmly wrapped around your waist with no intention of letting go. “Let’s stay here for a little longer. The guys outside can take care of themselves.”

Choi Soobin has been pouring his love into you all throughout spring and summer, fall and winter, even when you were too caught up in momentary shifts of the season to notice. Now, you won’t even let a drop fall astray, catching every last bit as you do the same for him. He’s a spring shower that extends into December, a summer cold you never want to get rid of, a fall sweater you’re wearing in the middle of May, and the cold nights that visit all throughout the year.

love vomit. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[strnilolo]

Hi Your work is amazing, i was wondering if you could do a reverse comfort where the reader is comforting a sick Chris and he gets reader sick so they end up sick together? Super clichè ik but i'm a sucker for that shit 😂💙

told you so

summary: you help chris while he’s sick, causing you to become sick yourself.

requested!

word count: 436

warnings: use of y/n, mentions of illness, vomiting, mentions of a gag reflex, maybe one curse word, lowercase intentional. briefly proofread.

an; thank you so much for this request, i love writing your ideas! this is my first request, i hope i did it right, haha. enjoy your read! let me know if there’s anything i can do better.

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after receiving a text from matt, you find yourself in the medicine isle of the CVS between yours and the boys house. matt had texted you early this morning, letting you know that chris had developed flu like symptoms, and asked you if you could stop by the store on your way over. grabbing some essentials, you used the self check out and began the short drive to chris’ house.

“chris?” you knock on his bedroom door, bags in hand.

“i got you some things” the door opens, giving you a view of what you were working with.

“jesus, chris, you look terrible. what happened?”

“you can’t be in here, you’re going to get sick” chris returns back to his bed slowly, as to not trigger his gag reflex.

“i’m not going to get sick, you can’t sit in here by yourself” you set the bags down, digging to find the medicine and gatorade that you purchased for him.

“here take these, are you able to eat anything?” you watch chris carefully as he takes the medicine from your hands. placing your hand on his forehead, you are immediately taken aback by the heat radiating from his body.

“chris you’re burning up, why are you under the blanket” you fold the blanket off his body, revealing his long pajama pants and hoodie.

“chris!”

“i was cold, y/n, i can’t help it” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his upper body, rubbing your hands across his arms.

“what are your symptoms?” you question, sitting in bed next to him as he drinks the gatorade you bought him.

“uhh fever, chills, nausea. i haven’t thrown up yet”

“okay, do you want to eat anything? i can get you something simple-” chris cuts you off before you can finish, pulling himself out of your embrace.

“you’re going to get sick, you can’t be in here”

“chris i’m not going to get sick, it’s okay. someone has to take care of you”

“will you let me take a nap with you?”

chris sighs, moving over so that you can have the spot next to him.

“don’t go complaining that i got you sick later” you laugh and kiss his burning head before the two of you fall asleep.

hours later, you wake up incredibly nauseous. running to the bathroom, you make it just before you get sick all over the floor. chris, startled by your sudden rush to get up, follows you to the bathroom and catches sight of your body leaning over the toilet. holding back your hair, he can’t help himself,

“i told you so”

|| as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated.

be sure to send in any requests you have, i would be happy to write them for you.

🏷️ @bananabread-nana

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[littlethingsinlife]

i'm sorry (happier part 2)

A/N: I was not expecting the amount of positive feedback for the first part and I was even more surprised to see people asking for a part 2! It was originally created to be a one-shot but a part 2 really fit well with how the first one ended. Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you again for all of the love and support! I hope you all enjoy. I also want to thank my friend, @tummymoth, they really helped me flush out and refine my rusty ass writing (also let me word vomit at them till midnight sometimes).

Pairing(s): Past Lo’ak x Omatikayan!Reader, Ao’nung x Omatikayan!Reader, Slight mentions of Lo’ak x Tsireya

Warnings: Lo'ak's POV, Swearing, Ao'nung saying something sus ONE time

More Info: My vision for this part 2 was to create a reply in Lo'ak's pov. So we'll have a look at what he experienced and thought process (not too sure if any of that made sense) but I was inspired by Joshua Bassett's song "i'm sorry" and it played constantly as I wrote this. Hopefully I was able to do right by my idea haha.

Summary: 7,547

Part 1: Happier

Key:

(Y/N) = Your Name 

Lyrics = Bolded Italics 

Flashbacks = Italics

Na'vi Words:

Yuey - beautiful (refers to a person) 

Skxawng - idiot/moron

Marui - Pods where the Na’vi live

Ilu - sea creature similar to dolphins

Ikran - dragon-like creature 

Tulkun - sentient creatures similar to whales

Olo’eyktan - clan leader/ chief

I thought about what I would say

But I’m two years too late

I can’t imagine how you’re doing these days, hmm

Sure, it wasn’t perfect back then

I’ll be first to admit

But it was better than being strangers again, oh

It had been a couple of months since my interactions with (Y/N) dwindled to terse smiles and barely audible greetings. If you asked me to point out the moment our friendship started to change, I couldn’t tell you. When did our bond start to break? When did it even start to crack? We used to talk every day about all the things we did and planned what pranks to pull on everyone, but now? Now, she barely looked in my direction. Now, she wouldn’t even give me the time of day. 

I couldn’t remember when it started, but I knew that it was somehow my fault I grew distant once we arrived in Awa'atlu. I guess I was just so fascinated by the new environment and people, I didn’t even realize a rift started to form between us in the first place, much less that it started to grow. 

The night before we left to find a new home, I held (Y/N) as she let out sobs filled with fear and anxiety. It broke my heart, but all I could do was hold her and let her cry until she was calm enough to tell me what was on her mind. 

“I-I am afraid, what if the sky people come to find us again? I cannot lose any of you; it would break me into a million pieces,” she sobbed. 

“If they find us then we will fight and we will win,” I reassured her, gently rocking her back and forth. 

“You are an idiot, I was so close to losing you, to losing Kiri, Tuk, how do you think it would make me feel to lose the most important people in my life?” she sniffled. My chest ached at how broken she sounded, but the only thing I could do was assure her and offer her more words of comfort as I held her in my arms. 

“I promise that I will be with you throughout the journey as will my family. We love you, and even if you do not believe it, you are a Sully. And you know what my dad always says.” 

“Sullys stick together,” we chorused.

That night, I cradled her in my arms until she fell asleep. 

Fuck, I completely broke my promise to her, how could I forget? Shaking my head, I tried to reason to myself, “Maybe she just needs time alone. I’m sure she’ll come running back soon once she realizes that it's no fun without me, her best friend.” I felt a small, unfamiliar feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Right?” 

I’m drunk too late talking to the moon

Writing songs I can’t sing to you, ‘cause

“Bah! Stop lying, I know you (Y/N). You would have fought alongside me and defended Kiri. You are not the same girl I knew in the forest back home,” I muttered, rolling my eyes and getting up to leave. Honestly, who did she think she was fooling? The skxawng had the balls to insult Kiri, and all she did was sit back and watch. She didn’t even make a move to help until it was to help him by pulling me off. “Talk to me when you’ve come back to your senses,” I called over my shoulder, refusing to look back. 

“Lo’ak! Bro—” a hand roughly grabbed my shoulder, jolting me out of my daze, “why’re you just staring off like that?” I whipped my head to see who the hell it was that was bothering me, only to be met with Neteyam.

“Did you have to grab me that hard?” I hissed before my initial anger gave way to a heavy feeling. “It's nothing, just—just lost in thought” I sighed, shrugging his hand off my shoulder. 

“Right, sure, nothing.” he crouched down beside me. “Don’t think you can lie to me lil bro, you’ve been spacing out more than you usually do. I didn’t even think it was possible to be more empty-headed than you already are,” he stated. 

“Wha—no I haven’t,” I tried to argue, but of course, he wasn’t convinced. 

“Can you stop arguing with me for once and just tell me what’s going on with you, you skxawng?” 

I scrunched my nose in distaste and inhaled sharply, “(Y/N) and I have been…  distant,” I admitted, turning to look at him. “She won’t even look at me. She either only answers me with one word or doesn’t answer at all.” 

He nodded, motioning for me to continue. 

“I—the last time we talked, I said things I didn’t mean. Things that just came out because I was so frustrated and… and angry. It was the heat of the moment and I—” 

“What did you say skxawng, did you hurt her?” Neteyam interrupted, face twisting to show the beginnings of distaste.

“No, no—” I sputtered and raised my hands to calm him before he could go on an hour-long lecture that I absolutely was not in the mood to hear. “At least I don’t think I did… I just wanted to ask her why the hell she was helping fish lips, that’s all—” 

“You didn’t answer me Lo’ak, what did you say to (Y/N)? I don’t care why you did it, I want to know what you said to elicit such a reaction from her.” By Eywa, if he would just give me a chance to get to the point—

“I—I told her that she was not the same girl that I knew back in the forest..." my ears lowered as the weight of what I said slowly sunk in. “And that she could talk to me once she came back to her senses,” I whispered, internally cringing at my harsh words.. 

“You fucking skxawng—” 

“Can you stop calling me that? I already know, you don’t need to keep repeating it…” I scoffed, looking out into the ocean. I’m good enough at beating myself up over the hundreds of times I’ve messed up in this lifetime, I didn’t need another disappointed set of eyes on me.

My ears twitched at the deep sigh he let out. “Look, I’m sorry that I keep calling you skxawng but that is exactly what you are for saying something so hurtful to your best friend of all people. The two of you were inseparable the moment you were born. Even if you don’t want to, suck up your dumbass pride,” my ears flattened again. It wasn’t pride, I’m not prideful. It—it was me needing (Y/N) on my side. We used to always be on the same page, and when she said I was wrong for wanting to defend Kiri against those assholes, it felt like she was siding with them instead of me, and—

Okay, so maybe it was pride.

  “Admit that you were wrong, and go talk to (Y/N),” Neteyam insisted as he put a reassuring arm around my shoulders, jostling me around to prove a point. “Your friendship is so much stronger and Eywa knows that a heat-of-the-moment argument isn’t going to break that. You should have more faith in her.” His gaze sharpened before he schooled his expression into something calmer. “Just talk to her, yeah?” 

“...Yeah,” I mumbled, swallowing down whatever argument was trying to bubble up from my throat and prying his arm off me. “You’re right. I’ll just clear things up with her and apologize. Everything will go back to normal after that, thanks bro—for listening,” I agreed. 

Ever since that day

The things I didn’t say They haunt me, oh

And I know that I’m to blame 

So, go ahead and 

Blame it on me, oh

Our lessons on the ways of the Metkayina were finished, so it was rare for the entire group to be in the same place. But every once in a while, we all finished our chores at the same time and found ourselves near the shore where we first learned to ride the ilu, and sat around a fire hours before eclipse, laughing and exchanging stories. 

The rarity of these moments made me cherish them that much more, but two people continued to miss our not-so-scheduled gatherings the past two moon cycles. How was it possible that they were the only two to keep missing our hangouts? Were they together? Fish lips had better not be doing anything to (Y/N) or so hel—

“(Y/N)! Ao’nung! You guys made it!” Rotxo laughed. 

“Yeah, yeah, quit shouting will you?” Ao’nung shot back as he sat down next to Rotxo, (Y/N) smiling softly as she followed. 

“So, what’ve you guys been up to? We haven’t seen you in what feels like ten moon cycles.” Neteyam questioned.

“Teyam, you saw me earlier today, you literally helped me feed our ikran,” (Y/N) joked. ‘Teyam? When did she start calling him by anything other than his given name?

Ao’nung swatted her side with his stupidly wide tail and swung an arm around her shoulder with a remarkably punchable smile on his face “More like he was trying to make sure you didn’t accidentally give them your fingers for breakfast. They would’ve gotten indigestion.”

“Haha very funny Ao’nung,” she drawled, “I would’ve fed you to Tekay instead, but she would’ve gagged the moment she caught a whiff of you,” she scoffed as she quickly pushed him away by the chest.

“Wait… Do they even have a gag reflex?” Fish lips didn’t budge, he just had a dumb look of confusion on his face.

“No, but they would defy the laws of biology to gag just for you,” she quipped, sticking out her tongue and moving to push him away again, but the skxawng had the nerve to pull her into a headlock. 

“Oh, yuey, the ikran won’t be the only ones gagging on me tonight,” he argued with a smirk. 

Did I want to punch that smirk off his face? Did I want to gag? Both? Before I could make a decision, (Y/N) grimaced, pushing him away again and smacking him upside the head. 

“That’s actually repulsive. You’re disgusting.”

“Dude, keep it in your pants, her family is right there,” Rotxo laughed, doubled over as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Yeah, we’re right here,” I interjected with a smile—wanting to join in on the jokes that were being thrown around—but it was hard to keep my face from falling when I saw (Y/N)’s bright expression falter. 

“Anyway, what were you guys talking about before Ao’nung and I arrived?” she asked in a too-bright tone of voice she only used when she desperately wanted to change the subject. As if everyone came to an unspoken agreement to forget about the conversation before, one by one they all started talking about who they thought would win in a fight—Toruk Makto, or our Olo’eyktan, Tonowari. 

The sound of laughter and excited chatter faded as I replayed the previous conversation in my head. When did they start joking around like that? Why the hell did fish lips call her yuey like it was the most natural thing in the world? How come she smiled so easily with him but faltered when she sees me? She was probably smiling with him right now—

I looked over at her, a pit in my stomach already forming at the idea of her smiling at him, but she looked so distant, so withdrawn from everything around her. Before I could even blink, she put a delicate hand on Ao’nung’s arm to grab his attention and mumbled something in a hushed tone. After a few beats of silent conversation, Ao’nung nodded and gave her a look of understanding. 

Why did he look at her like that? How much time did they spend together to be able to understand each other with just a look? How much time have I wasted breaking my promise to her while she grew closer to someone else? 

 Standing up, I made up my mind that I would talk to her and clear up any miscommunication. There was no way in hell I was about to let fish lips ruin our childhood friendship. Before I could even get close, Neteyam pulled me aside. 

“Bro, why’re you glaring at everyone?” he asked with concern written all over his face.

“Glaring?” I tilted my head in confusion. “I’m not glaring, this is just my face.” 

“No, no.” He shook his head. “I’m your brother, I know your face. Whatever look you’ve been throwing at Ao’nung and (Y/N)? You may as well have been throwing knives at them.”

Behind Neteyam, I could see (Y/N) get up to bid everyone good night and slowly walk in our direction. This was my chance, I just needed this overbearing idiot to leave me alone. 

“Whatever look you think I’m giving to them, you’re wrong,” I denied. “Can you not act like this right now?” My tail flicked side to side impatiently, an obvious twinge of annoyance clear in my tone. I licked my lips nervously as I could hear footsteps coming closer. Leaning slightly to the side, I looked behind Neteyam to see (Y/N) and—

Ao’nung? What? Why is he there? 

“Good night,” (Y/N) muttered, not sparing us a glance as she walked past. I followed her every move and—as if everything slowed down—my eyes narrowed as they found Ao’nung’s hand placed on her lower back, leading her gently in the direction of the marui. 

I know that I’m too late

But I’ll say it anyway

I’m sorry 

I’m sorry 

I’m sorry 

Though it's far too late

“I did it! Did you see that Reya?” I shouted—out of breath—as I showed off the shell Tsireya threw. 

“Yes, yes you did it!” She exclaimed, excitedly wrapping her hand around mine. For someone who spent so much time underwater, her hand radiated so much warmth. So easy to hold. My heart swelled with pride as she continued to compliment me. “You’ve improved so much!”

“Yeah? Well, I had a great teacher,” I joked, nudging her softly with my shoulder. It wasn’t just her hands that were warm either, she just seemed to radiate it.

“Oh stop, you flatter me too much,” she denied, fidgeting with her hair. Was that a blush on her face? “C’mon, why don’t we catch up with the others? Private lessons are officially done for the day,” she announced as she led me to shore. Oh Eywa, she looked so pretty like this, with her hair flowing down her back and the way her eyes cast down when she became flustered. And her smile, it was a smile that could knock the air out of my lungs.

While we walked onto shore, we joked around and laughed with each other, talking about anything and everything. The ease of each reply and joke came as smoothly as gliding through the water on an ilu—as easy as breathing. Laughing at another one of Tsireya’s jokes, my eyes scanned the village as we approached it. Families were winding down for the day as they cooked dinner, although I didn’t see mine anywhere nearby aside from Kiri. 

My smile slowly dropped when I was able to make out Kiri looking frantically around as if she was searching for someone. Tsireya and I made our way to her, worry filling the pit in my stomach. As we got closer, I could see Ao’nung climb down one of the roots of the Mangrove trees and make a beeline toward her. My eyes stayed on both of them, making sure that fish lips didn’t do anything to Kiri. 

Ears twitching I was able to make out the words, “(Y/N)? Did you find her? ” from Kiri as they were carried on the wind toward us.

“Yeah I did, I was able to get her to eat, but she’s not looking too good,” Ao’nung replied with concern lacing his voice.

Brows furrowing, I pulled Ao’nung by the shoulder. “What do you mean she’s not looking good? Where is she? What did you do?” 

“What the hell do you mean? I didn’t do shit, freak.” I rolled my eyes at the insult. He couldn’t use that thick head of his to think of anything else to call me? From the pained look on his face, I could tell that my grip on his shoulder had too much pressure. Good. Served him right.

Before Ao’nung and I could continue our argument Kiri groaned, “Will the both of you skxawng shut up! I’ll go talk to her.” My eyes followed her retreating form as she went to talk to (Y/N)—tail lashing back and forth in agitation all the while—before turning back to Ao’nung.

Who the hell did he think he was? I’d beat his skxawng ass if he hurt (Y/N) in any way. He had no right to look so damn worried. They weren’t even close. What even happened? How long had she been missing for Kiri to go to fish lips of all people for help? Should I follow Kiri? Why didn’t (Y/N) come to me? She always came to me, and if she came to me now, I absolutely would have listened. Why—

“Lo’ak? Hey, are you okay? Lo’ak?” a hand softly placed itself on my arm. Closing my eyes in frustration, I sighed. 

“Yeah, perfectly fine.” 

Damn it, was that when it started? How idiotic and blind have I been that I didn’t even notice that her trust in me started to slip and die when it was right in front of me? Why didn’t I go to her and make sure she was okay? I should’ve punched that idiot’s lights out—

“Ao’nung! Stop pulling me you skxawng, you’re walking too fast, slow down!” a hushed voice chastised. 

“C’mon yuey, we only have about an hour before eclipse, we have to hurry!” His voice grated against my ears as he responded. 

“That’s plenty of time!” (Y/N) insisted. I could hear the laughter bubbling up in her voice as she chased after him. “Please Ao’nung slow down, I can’t keep up.” 

“It can’t be helped, you’re so short—” a whack could be heard. “Ow!”

“I’m as tall as Tsireya, you giant!” 

“Both you and my sister are short—Ow! Alright, just because you did that, you leave me no choice,” Ao’nung said, throwing (Y/N) over his shoulder with a laugh. 

The bickering voices got closer, and my eyes narrowed at the way he held her. My breath hitched as he whispered something in her ear that made her ears perk up and her eyes widen. What the hell was he saying to her? Before I could spring up from my spot, Ao’nung tossed (Y/N) in the water, her yelp quickly interrupted by the sound of her body hitting the water. 

I stayed in my spot as shock zipped through my body. Letting out a breath I didn’t know I held, her head popped out of the water, a playful glare on her face. 

“I told you, you left me no choice,” he stated, guffawing at her expression.

“Oh yeah?” she groused, spitting out seawater as she wrung out her hair. “Well fuck you too. Help me out of here?” 

“Only if you say the magic word,” he taunted, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Otherwise, I’m afraid my hands are tied.”

“Please, oh great son of our Olo’eyktan, help me out of the ocean,” she beckoned dramatically, sarcasm dripping from every word while she rolled her eyes. “It’s about time you recognized my proud lineage, forest dweller,”  he said as his chest puffed out with a hand reaching towards (Y/N). And there was that stupid smile on his face.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, a mischievous smile spreading across her face as she reached for his hand, making sure to tug with enough force to unceremoniously yank him into the water. 

“So much for the son of a great warrior! Your instincts are shit!”

“My instincts are dull you say?” he questioned as his head popped up next to her. “We’ll see about that!” 

“Wha—AHHH—'' she wheezed. “No, please Ao’nung stop! That tickles!” Her arms flailed wildly in an attempt to free herself from his grasp. 

What the fuck.

  My ears flattened at an angle as I tried to process the scene unfolding before me. When did she start laughing with him? That should’ve been me she was laughing with. Not him, not the skxawng who had been nothing but rude to us since we arrived. What… what was I even saying—Fuck I didn’t know anymore. Why did I feel like this every time I saw them together… laughing and making jokes like we used to?

And it was me, it wasn’t you

It’s cliche, but it’s true 

I wasn’t thinking how I usually do, oh

And is your momma doing well? 

Or does she still hate me? 

But it was hard to watch me put you through hell 

I’m drunk, too late, talking to the moon, ooh

Writing songs I can’t sing to you, ‘cause 

Two weeks had passed since I started noticing the changes in (Y/N)’s relationship—friendship?—with Ao’nung. It was like every time I blinked, I could see her laughing loudly as Ao’nung tickled her with a triumphant smile on his stupid face. Since that day, I had been trying to find a way to talk to (Y/N), but she was never alone. She was always with him and when she wasn’t, she disappeared and I couldn’t find her no matter how hard I looked. 

Now here I was, wandering around trying to look for her as I rehearsed what I wanted to tell her. 

Where could she be? Dinner was in an hour and she wasn’t anywhere near our marui. I had to find her soon so there would be enough time for us to talk. I had to tell her that I miss her, that I was sorry for being so dumb, that I shouldn’t have let my pride blind me, and that I didn’t mean any of the things I said. 

There was only one place I hadn’t looked yet… hopefully she was there. 

As I was getting closer to the root Kiri stalked to, I could see two silhouettes beside each other. An all-too-familiar feeling bloomed in my chest once I registered that she was there with him. 

Her melodic laughter made my steps falter. I clenched my fists tightly, contemplating if I should go over there and pull her away, force her to talk to me, to listen. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do that to her, not when she looked so content, so happy. 

Ever since that day 

The things I didn’t say 

They haunt me, oh

I know that I’m to blame 

So, go ahead and 

Blame it on me, oh

“Lo’ak? You said you were going to look for (Y/N) and never came back. She’s already in the marui helping mom cook,” Kiri stated, a twinge of annoyance lacing her voice. “Hey, are you listening?” She shook my arm slightly, making me jump out of my stupor. 

“Yeah, sorry, you said dinner was ready?” I asked as I stared off. 

The sand beside me crunched softly as Kiri made a move to sit beside me. “No, I said that (Y/N) is with mom helping her cook. Where is your head at?” she asked as she tilted her head to try and meet my gaze. “Are you alright?” The annoyance in her voice shifted to concern. 

“I’m fine, yep—just… fine,” I brushed her off, hoisting myself up to head towards Mom and Dad for dinner before Kiri yanked me back down. 

“Lo’ak, don’t pretend you’re okay when you’re not. Tell me what’s going on,” she urged. “Maybe I can help you with whatever it is that’s occupied your mind lately.”

I inhaled sharply, debating if I should tell her what had been muddying my mind, the reason why I had been so spaced out, why I had been glaring daggers at fish lips each time I saw his stupid face next to (Y/N)—how confused I was. 

“Stop with the thinking skxawng, you might hurt yourself,” she admonished. “Just tell me. It’s not like I can’t handle it.” 

Huffing, I rolled my eyes and turned away from her to look at the sea. I hadn't even said anything yet and Kiri was already making me feel idiotic. How was I supposed to tell her what's been going on like this? Maybe if I kept quiet for long enough, she would get tired of waiting for me to start talking and go on to eat dinner without me. 

A couple of minutes of silence passed. 

I could still feel her staring at me.

“I’ve—I’ve been conflicted,” I started, tongue feeling heavy in my mouth as I continued to stare at the shoreline. “I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

“What do you mean?” Kiri nudged my shoulder with hers. “Elaborate a little more, I can’t help if you don’t tell me the reason why you’re feeling confused.” 

“...Whenever I see (Y/N) with Ao’nung, it’s as if I can feel my heart aching,” I said, motioning toward my chest to prove my point. “There’s always a… a surge of anger that rushes through me. All I want to do is pull her away from him so then everything can go back to the way things used to be—for us to be okay.”

“Lo’ak…” If I was looking at her, I’d probably see Kiri tilt her head with sympathy. But sympathy isn’t what I needed right now.

“I want her to look at me and smile, to laugh with me, hug me—but now, whenever I get close to her, she’s next to him, laughing with him, cracking the jokes we would make to each other… I just—” I rubbed at my face in frustration. It wasn’t as if the words were hard to come by—I had spent so much time bottling them up that it was hard to stop talking. No, I just hated the fact that I felt this way in the first place. “I don’t understand why seeing them makes me feel like my heart is about to explode—why it makes me want to scream. It hurts.” 

“Lo’ak” she put a hand on my shoulder. “Are you—are you in love with (Y/N)?”

Love?

I sputtered in surprise and whipped my head toward Kiri to see if she was joking or not. What kind of a sick question was that? I wasn’t in the mood for any games. 

“What? No, she’s like my… sister?”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “If you’re not, then why does seeing her with Ao’nung hurt you so much? Why do you care as much as you do?” 

“I shouldn’t!” I wrenched my shoulder away from her hand and stood up. The need to move around and do something—anything—was too much. There was too much energy thrumming right beneath my skin to sit still anymore. 

“That’s the problem! After everything I said to her, done to her? I don’t have the right to say I’m in love with her. She’s my childhood friend, Kiri. That’s all our relationship has ever been… I just—” I paused in thought and tried to calm down. “I didn’t realize seeing her have so much fun with someone else would make me feel so, so hollow—” 

“Let me ask you something, you have to promise to be completely honest with me, okay?”

I nodded, not even looking in her direction. 

“When (Y/N) tried to pull you off from Ao’nung that one fight months ago, what did you feel? Angry? Betrayed? Jealous?”

Jealous? Did she really think I was sulking for months because of such a petty feeling? I’m not a jealous person. I never have been. 

“Seeing her jump in to get me off him made me feel like she was siding with him and telling me that I was wrong. Her actions were clear as day to me, Kiri.” I started to pace around. “She was protecting him—caring for him when she should’ve been next to me, helping and supporting me. When she did that—I felt like the only person that’s ever been on my side—” I croaked and turned my head to look at Kiri as tears stung my eyes “The only person who didn’t see everything I did as some sort of disappointment or failure, abandoned me and chose someone else.”

“...”

“I know that I could’ve approached her a different way but how could I when I felt so broken?” I inhaled sharply, eyebrows furrowed. “ It’s all fish lips’ fault. If he wasn’t such an asshole, none of this would have happened, and (Y/N) and I would still be the same, she would still be by my side—supporting me, loving me.” 

“Why do you keep blaming it on Ao’nung?”

“Because it is his fault that things have turned out the way it has.” I threw my hands up, exasperated. What wasn’t Kiri getting? “He’s getting in between my relationship—er—friendship with (Y/N)! If he wasn’t there I would be able to talk to her and tell her I’m sorry, but she’s always with him—”

“Stop! Are you hearing yourself?” She nudged at my foot to interrupt and scoffed. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? (Y/N) told me what you said to her, how ‘she wasn’t the same girl’ you knew back in the forest. Do you know what happened when you told her that? Do you know how much pain she was in?”

Pain? I snorted, turning towards Kiri. “Now I know what you’re saying is bullshit. You know how (Y/N) is—if she really was pissed at me she would’ve come to me instead of running to someone else.”

“She wasn’t pissed. She cried because of you, Lo’ak. Because of what you said.” I stopped dead in my tracks to look at her. Kiri's eyes didn’t waver. Another heavy feeling settled on my chest and clawed its way up my throat. If you had asked me what it was, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you. Was I sad? Guilty? Angry? Was I jealous like she said?

I settled on anger.

“If you’re saying what I think you’re saying—”

“The person that found her that night, the one who comforted her? That was Ao’nung. He held her in his arms as she sobbed when I found them.” She stood up too, forcing me to stop pacing. 

“The last thing I want to hear about right now is him, Kiri. What the fuck—”

“Did you ever think about why she’s so comfortable with him now? Why they’re so close? While you ignored her for weeks, he made sure she was okay—made sure she ate every day. He didn’t leave her side until she finished,” Kiri pointed out, and before I could even think to open my mouth to remind her how shitty he was to her especially, she cut me off. “Yes, he was an asshole at the beginning, and yes he has a screwed-up way to show he cares, but he stepped up when you fucked up.” She poked my chest with a glare before she continued. 

“Oh, so I’m a fuck-up now?” I asked wryly. 

“You can’t put all the blame on someone that took care of your best friend. Stop being so blinded by your pride and hatred and see that you’re the real reason why your relationship with (Y/N) isn’t the same as it used to be.” 

My heart sank a little more as I scrambled for something to say. “How could you say that—”

“No, you do not get to interrupt me right now, Lo’ak.” Her eyes flashed with something closer to anger than annoyance. When was the last time I saw her angry? “Listen and listen well. When we couldn’t find (Y/N) and we were looking for her everywhere—he was the one that found her spot, the one she isolated herself to so she could cry alone, and no one would see how much pain she was in. And what were you doing in the meantime?” 

My ears flattened at her rising tone, and I was finally beginning to understand the weight stuck in my throat and chest. Not anger, not even jealousy.

“You were out there with Tsireya, stuck in your own little world.”

It was my fault.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m really happy that you found her but you can’t have both of them. You can’t be that selfish. From (Y/N)’s perspective, you’ve already chosen the one you want.”

“It’s not like I’ve actually chosen anyone yet,” I tried to interject, but all the fight had left my voice as Kiri’s words dug into my skin and sunk in.

“Don’t you dare play with either of their feelings. (Y/N) held so much love for you in her heart, she allowed herself to break to the point of no repair because she didn’t want to show you how much it hurt her to see you at your happiest with Tsireya.” She paused before continuing, her voice losing its edge. “Let her move on, brother. And if it’s Ao’nung that makes her light up the way she used to, then you suck it up and let him. He was there when your pride wouldn’t even let you apologize or even look in her direction. Actually think about how she feels for once.” 

I hated the fact that there wasn’t anything I could say to prove her wrong. 

“It’s all I’ve been thinking about nowadays,” I muttered.

I know that I’m too late

But I’ll say it anyway 

I’m sorry 

I’m sorry, hmm

I’m sorry 

Though it’s far too late 

“I thought I was already doing that,” a faint voice huffed in annoyance. Turning the corner, I saw Ao’nung and (Y/N) standing on the beach together— far too close for my liking. 

“You were, but you got sloppy. Here, you have to move your hips like this,” he said as he corrected her posture. My ears flattened against my head as he put a hand on her hip and gently directed her movement.

Why did he look so gentle with her?

“Ao’nung,” (Y/N)’s voice rang out, clear as crystal despite her uncertain tone. “Are you sure you should be teaching me this? This is a traditional Metkayina dance, right? I’m…” she hesitated, her voice becoming smaller. “I’m not Metkayina—” 

“Yet.” He interrupted, holding her face in his hands. “You are not Metkayina yet. Once you become one of us, you will have to learn the dance to celebrate the return of our spirit brothers and sisters, so why not learn that now?” I hated how reassuring his voice was. The thought of how either of their eyes looked as they held contact made my stomach turn.

“Yeah… you’re right,” she mumbled with an unsure look on her face.

“Woah, hey pretty girl, look at me,” he insisted, laying his hands on her shoulders and bending his neck so they were at eye level. “I’m serious when I say you will become Metkayina one day, so don’t worry yourself over it right now. Okay?” Ao’nung tilted his head to the side, an unbelievably soft expression on his face. “You have me here to help you.”

“Alright…” (Y/N) mumbled, not convinced. 

“If you don’t get rid of that look on your face I’ll throw you into the water,” he said as his face shifted from sincerity to something mischievous. “Or worse… I’ll tickle you,” he threatened.

“You better not Ao’nung, or I swear to the Great Mother herself I will hu—AHH—get away, you skxawng!'' She laughed as she tried to run away, but Ao’nung grabbed hold of her waist and pulled her into his arms. And despite her words of protest, it was clear as day that she was leaning into him while they scuffled on the sand. 

“No!” she shrieked with glee. “You can’t make me go in there again!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, forest dweller!”

A thought occurred. Should I go up to them? We never got the chance to talk, after all. I took a few steps in their direction before freezing. When was the last time I heard her laugh like that? She had the biggest smile on her face, and the one who made that happen wasn’t me—it was him. 

And if you ever hear this 

I hope you know that 

I’m not proud of who I’ve been, ooh

And if I see you again

I hope you know that 

I wish you nothing but the best

And my biggest regret

The afternoon was quiet, relative silence only interrupted by the crashing of waves. Without much to do, I just sat in our marui and lazed around with Tuk until a horn blew. 

“The tulkun have returned! Everybody—our brothers and sisters have returned!” Tsireya’s voice rang out, and when I poked my head out to see what the fuss was about, I saw the megawatt smile on her face, as she swam by on her ilu. 

The village came to life as everyone mounted either ilu or canoe to make their way to the tulkun. From here, I could see little more than a large group of dark shapes making their way through the water. Payakan himself was dauntingly huge, but to see a whole pod of them show up like this? It was spectacular. I watched the commotion unfold from one of the walkways, lost in thought before I felt water splashing at my feet. 

“Come on Lo’ak! Don’t just stand there, let’s go see the tulkun together!” Tsireya urged, still smiling. Shaken out of my stupor, I grinned widely—diving into the water and clambering onto her ilu. lu may be lithe animals, but I could still feel sinuous muscle under velvety skin as it made adjustments in the water to keep balance. 

“I’ll come, but only if you’re offering a ride,” I joked, gently holding her waist and playfully leaning onto her. The cool water around us made her skin feel that much warmer. It was nice. 

Before I could see her reaction—I would’ve bet anything at that moment that her cheeks had become flushed—we began to quickly make our way toward the rest of the clan and the giant tulkun. 

The air around me vibrated with the excitement and happiness of loved ones returning, and Tsireya was no exception—the speed of the ilu gave away her eagerness to be with her spirit sister. As we leaped into and out of the water, Tsireya’s laughter was carried by the wind and reached my ears. That, and the answering whoops and bellows of Metkayina and tulkun alike, was almost contagious enough to get carried away by the energy surrounding us. 

“My spirit sister is down there,” she said as she dismounted, sliding off her ilu and into the water. “Wait here, yeah?” she smiled at me before diving down.  

I was more than happy to watch the Na’vi around me. Looking around, I was in awe of the sheer amount of tulkun gathered in one area, and how each Metkayina was able to identify their spirit sisters or brothers so easily. Looking down into the shifting waters, I saw Tsireya catching up with her spirit sister, waving her hands around and swimming through the water alongside her.

All around, I could hear people telling stories and the deep, booming calls of the tulkun as they responded with tales of their own. New parents were showing their babies and calves, and as my eyes scanned the horizon, I could see small children holding onto the tulkun’s fins as they were lifted to the glittering ocean surface.  

Not too far away, I heard the sound of a body hitting the water and the sound of grating, but familiar laughter along with an indignant (Y/N) sputtering. 

“Ao’nung, what the fu—” 

“Hey, hey, relax! It’s just some water. There are children here, yuey,” Ao’nung chided with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“The parents of those children are going to have to explain what it means to return to Eywa once I’m through with you,” she retorted, treading water and becoming even more unamused when he raised his hands in mock surrender. 

“Woah there pretty girl, you’re talking to the son of the mightiest warrior in all of Pandora—”

“That’s funny, I don’t see Neteyam here,” she interjected, pretending to search the waters around them before turning back to Ao’nung and tilting her head, “do you?”

“Just because you said that you can have fun finding your own way back to shore,” he said as he turned his ilu around.

“Oh, c’mon Ao’nung, don’t be like that,” she rolled her eyes and reached a hand towards him. “You’d really leave me here to fend for myself?”

He turned and wagged a disapproving finger at her, “I’ll consider forgiving you if you say word-for-word that I’m the son of the mightiest warrior in all of Pandora. I can’t have you slandering my father’s name, yuey.” She groaned and leaned back into the water. 

“You couldn’t pay me enough to say that load of bull—”

“Nope!” he didn’t give her a chance to defile the ears of any nearby children and crossed his arms. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“...”

“I’m still waiting.”

With a sardonic smile, she finally caved. “Why don’t I do you one better? You’re the mightiest warrior to exist since the time of the First Songs,” she declared, sarcasm dripping from every word as she slapped at the water for emphasis. 

“That’s what I thought, was that so hard?” Even if I wasn’t able to see them, I still would have been able to hear the stupidly wide smile that made its way across his face.

“Don’t be such a big baby and let me meet your spirit brother!” 

“Just because he’s here to visit today, I’ll let that one slide for now.” Ao’nung rolled his eyes, dismounting his ilu to join (Y/N). “Now hold on tight and hold your breath like how we practiced.”

We? Who the fuck was we? Why was he allowing her to meet his spirit brother? Why were they looking at each other like that?

I watched both of their silhouettes submerge and breathed deeply, forcing my thundering heart to calm as I slowly sank my head into the water. At first, all I could see were blobs floating around in the water, but once my eyes adjusted, I could see the fluid movement of Ao’nung talking to his spirit brother. Eyebrows furrowing, I swam a little closer and hoped that I would be able to see what was being signed. With each movement made, it was clear that Ao’nung was translating the clicks and bellows of the tulkun to (Y/N), and whatever was being said made her smile widen by the second. 

I couldn’t watch anymore as my chest burned from the lack of air and I resurfaced to catch my breath. For once, I was thankful for the lack of lung capacity I had. I climbed back onto Tsireya’s ilu. Seeing as she wasn’t back yet, I sat back and leaned on its neck to face the sky.

Did she always glow like that when she smiled? Whenever she was with him—she always looked so happy, so vibrant. Would she have looked like that with me by her side if I didn’t push her away? If I was there for her like I had promised? I wanted to tell her sorry—that I was sorry for taking our friendship for granted, for making her go through it alone. I wish that it didn’t take seeing her smile and laugh with someone else to make me realize how I felt.

I willed my tears to go away. 

Is this how she felt? Seeing me with Tsireya? Great Mother… I was truly horrible, wasn’t I? I wished things turned out differently. Maybe in another universe, I did talk to her—realized sooner, made her happier—but now? Right now, my heart was torn in two, watching as someone else picked up the pieces of the heart I crushed. No amount of words could fix what we used to have, and even though I wanted to whisk her away, tell her I love her—that I see her—that seeing her with him made my skin crawl, I knew I couldn’t. I was no longer worthy to be part of her life, because of me and my actions alone. 

I had become nothing but a stranger. 

Ever since that day 

The things I didn’t say 

They haunt me

I know that I’m to blame

So go ahead and 

Blame it on me, ooh

I know that I’m too late 

But I’ll say it anyway

I’m sorry

I’m sorry 

Hmm, I’m sorry 

Oh-oh-oh-oh, I’m sorry

Taglist: @midnightliacr @immortalbloodhuntress @arminsfloll @whenercolorfulrainbowlol @dakotali @lexilander27 @zatarias-pandora @vanillawhale @kazupop @owaowaowawa @sopiasleeps @siabhshjsjsjsjshznzn @jimfiqs @ihave500hubbiez

[wonillaa]

dumb in love with you — jungwon one shot

summary . for the first time, jungwon struggles to speak and it’s all because of you and the way you smile at him as you take his coffee order. genre . fluff

jungwon x gn reader (this is a gift so the name veena is used once hehe)

notes . nyangi dearest i hope you enjoy <3 i changed the whole plot of this like ten million times but i decided on him just being an idiot in love bc he is too cute @nyangified ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

jungwon has always thought of himself to be calm and confident in how he speaks and acts, but now, he's not so sure.

two of his friends, sunghoon and jake, lived up to half of their dream and finally opened a coffee shop together. was jay behind the process of it all? most definitely. but it's still theirs and they claim it very proud.

they've been telling jungwon to come in almost every day now, so he can "taste heaven" but the phrase alone made his want in going a zero.

but now that he thinks about it, he feels like a horrible friend. he should be supporting them, right? before he even thinks about how coffee never sits well with him he's on his way.

the bells on the door jingle as he walks in. sunghoon glances over and immediately puts his hands on his hips and calls out, "a lost kitten? are you here for some milk?" jungwon scoffs and goes to leave until jake claps happily and smiles as bright as the sun; jungwon sighs in defeat and walks back in.

"i'm here to support jake, do you hear me?" jungwon points a finger at sunghoon and he puts his hands up in surrender, going back to making drinks.

while he's distracted looking around the place he doesn't notice you standing at the register. he turns his head to look at the menu and for the first time, his most annoying friend sees him speechless.

sunghoon only sighs at his young friend in endearment and minds his business. he loves jungwon, and after working with you for some time, he’s grown to adore you too. him and jake have made plans on setting you up with jungwon like the best matchmakers ever but, he guesses you’re already ahead of him.

jungwon swallows harshly and walks up to order. "hi. can i get uh... um, a coffee? please?" his shoulders tense and eyes shut immediately. he already hears his friends choked laughter, he will not acknowledge them. "sorry. an iced vanilla latte with uh, almond milk.. my stomach doesn't take regular milk well haha it's like, really bad." oh my god.

"no problem!" your smile is going to make him word vomit even more. "i'm the same way actually, i get it. what size would you like?"  "a medium pretty please."

.

he stands distraught by the counter as sunghoon makes his drink in tears. jake comes up and pats his back a few times, "i appreciate you coming in won. but oh my god, maybe you shouldn't have." he leans his head into jungwons shoulder and laughs until he's hiccuping. he really can't wait for niki to get ahold of this information.

"hey sunghoon, can i see his drink?" you whisper to him with a sharpie. "knock yourself out." he leaves to crowd a mourning jungwon and you write a message on his cup,  ' visit us more!! jake and sunghoon would like it, i would too :) ♡ '

jake and sunghoon go back to their coffee shop duties and he steps up to take his drink from you. "thank you," he glances at the note, "oh. sure, i'll definitely come back. and i will probably keep this cup forever."

.

jungwon coming in becomes a daily thing now. he hates the way coffee makes him feel, but the way you smile and call the most simple drink the “jungwon special”, he lets his stomach suffer. and his bank account.

today he ordered two drinks. you think you’re good enough friends now to ask who it’s for but honestly you didn’t think you wanted to know. you liked his dimples that came out when he slipped on his words, the way his eyes only fixate on you even when his best friends are right there, the way he consistently comes in early and makes your mornings.

and he’s ordering two drinks, the second being so specific without looking at a note or text, he must really like this person. you can only nod and say your usual, “right away loyal customer” maybe he isn’t as loyal as you wished. does he look at other people-

“veena? um.. last week you mentioned this crazy order you like. i made a song in my head to not forget it, i’m assuming thats why you looked at me a certain way. anyway. this is for you.” he shakily hands you the drink back after discreetly writing his own note on it. he’s hoping it was discreet.

you frown unknowingly and whisper the note out loud, ‘ please keep making me coffee forever, no one does the jungwon special like you. oh wow .. this is embarrassing im sorry, i really just wanted to ask for a date ㅠㅠ ’

“yes, date. yes.” you look up at him happily and a little shocked. he jumps up and walks to the counter and sets his drink down, cupping both of your cheeks with his freezing hands. “this is the best day of my life. i’m sorry my hands are wet um, i was nervous you’d say no. oh i’m a mess i’m sorry.” you smile regardless and pull his hands off to hold them, “i’m happy jungwon, so happy. i promise to make you coffee forever.”

[coff-in]

Could I request Grave siblings with an obsessive reader?

Like reader is atracted to violent women so when she met Ashley as a child she immediately wanted her attention, but she realized that Ashley is obsessed with Andrew. Reader dislikes Andrew because of this but befriends him in order to get close to LeyLey, a bad move because now Ashley thinks this random girl who has been following her wants to steal her brother.

Reader is desperate because she doesn't want Ashley to hate her, so when she visits the Gave's and sees them playing with some Nina she thinks perhaps this is her chance to prove herself to Leyley.

When Andrew hesitates to lock Nina he glances at his "friend" for help or guidance, but she just takes the wood piece from him and locks Nina herself.

"Now Leyley, please don't cry! Andrew did what you wanted, didn't you Andrew?"

Ashley starts appreciating reader because she does anything if it makes Leyley happy, and Andrew listens to reader so he can't deny Leyley either.

Andrew knows reader uses him but he just likes her to much to stop ot.

notes from coff-in: i was trying to do my usually tidy headcanon writing but i just... couldn't do it :/ so instead i'm going to word vomit, haha! sorry about that, but i hope you enjoy what i have to say :3 (edit: this took longer than i expected, my bad my bad)

[fem] reader-insert

leyley wouldn't really be friendly towards [reader]. she usually sticks to andy and does her own thing most of the time which makes it hard for [reader] to interact with her. most of her attempts to befriend leyley directly are brushed off.

[reader] finally thought of a plan: if [reader] can get close to andy, she can get close to leyley. andy's a fairly popular kid at school and it wasn't too hard being friendly to him. she had almost let slip of her true intentions when initially befriending him, almost told him to "stop hogging leyley." almost... but [reader] was able to control herself.

what [reader] didn't really take into account was how leyley would react. which was not as positive as she hoped. if looks could kill then [reader] would've been leyley's first victim. she went from being disinterested in [reader] to fucking aggressive as hell and no matter how much [reader] tried to please leyley, nothing really trampled out the pure fucking animosity leyley showed her.

until one day. [reader] saw leyley hanging out with andy and nina near the abandoned warehouse. when she came over to join them, andy tried to talk her away. "how come nina can come but i can't?"

"andrew invited me!" well she can't really argue with that.

"well-- um-- it would be better to have an even group, right leyley?"

leyley wanted to tell her off but thought that maybe she could use this opportunity to kill two hussies with one stone! she made nina count and [reader] hide in a separate part of the warehouse away from her and andy. however, [reader] overheard bits and pieces of their conversation... lock the box?

she soon found out what leyley meant when leyley forced nina into the dusty box. at first [reader] didn't know what to do, and leyley was yelling and tearing up, and andy was looking at her for help, pleading for her to do something. so she took the stick in andy's hands and pushed it through the meta loops to lock the box. she smiled at a shocked leyley.

"now leyley, please don't cry! andrew did what you wanted, didn't you andrew?"

andy looked at [reader] in disbelief before nodding. "yeah... see? i choose you, leyley." maybe he was hoping that [reader] would take nina out later. maybe he was hoping that [reader] was just doing this to pacify leyley.

but seeing leyley smile made [reader] completely forget about nina and her coughing, and andy and his worrying. as long as she was happy, everything else meant nothing to [reader].

everyone wins.

----

coff-in

[hopplessilse]

Instagram search part 2

Insta!Joel x Fem! reader

Serie masterlist

Summary: Everything is going so well that Joel decides to take your "relationship" a step further. Soon you will have a date with Mr. Miller.

Rating: +18 (minor dni)

Words counted: 4.4k

Warnings: age gab (Joel is in his late 40's, reader in her early 20's) need for male attention, vomiting (from nerves), a bit of sexting, daddy issues?, pet names, insecurity (body, shape, for being who you are, sex, private parts), fear of rejection, Overthinker 24/7, dirty talk.

Note: Late to update, I have been busy with the university that I forgot. I wanted to make this chapter longer but I didn't want to postpone another day, so part two will have a second part that will move the whole date and a little after this one, I hope you like it and want to continue reading it. Thank you for the support that the first part had, you don't know how happy I was to know that you liked it. Enjoy and see you in the next part :) my first language is not english, any mistake i apologize.

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"I don't believe it" said one of your friends named juliet

"You are flirting with a sir!" this time Nell made fun of you

"Don't tell him sir, it sounds weird" you said embarrassingly

"come on" she said your name "we know you have daddy issues since you told us you liked that actor of yours" Nell point

"I don't have daddy issues"

"Don't deny it" Nell told you looking into your eyes narrowing them

"I deny it because it's not true, I have a good relationship with my dad" They both looked at each other

"Well... but admit that you like old man" they both laughed at the offended face you made

"better shut up" you said blushing

You had told your two best friends about the talk you had with Joel last night, as much as you wanted to talk to him it was too early to do it, you didn't want to seem intense or urgent. But hell you did want to talk to him again.

The truth is that what your friends said was true, not the daddy issues (or so you wanted to think) but that you were attracted to older man, not so old, but at some point you felt the need for someone older to take care of you, who wanted to give attention to a young woman like you.

You don't know why you need male attention, and you like them to be dominant, not in a relationship, you don't like being bossed around, you are a free and independent woman, you are very stubborn, you like to argue if necessary, before you used to say yes to everything and everyone, just to not look bad and be a good girl, but that had already changed. But that they were dominant in the sexual act, sounds good, you would like them to guide you in it, tell you how to do it, that they know how to do it, that they tell you things that you have never heard.

You wanted to do things you hadn't done with anyone else

|||||||

It had already been a few days of talking to Joel, you thought it would be difficult to talk to him, but it was easier than you thought. Every day was a new topic, he asked you about your tastes:

and what are you doing today doll

I'm reading a book

oh you like to read, I see why you're so damn smart

haha it's not that kind of books that I read

He asked you about the school:

how were the classes sweetheart

They are killing me, the teachers stress me out

it's part of darling

if you were my teacher would you take pity on me?

of course honey, you would be my favorite student

and you my favorite teacher

You asked him about his day, his work and he even told you about his daughter and brother between conversations.

How was your job?

uff stressed, I'm finished darlin

I wish I was with you, I would give you a massage

do you know how t' do them?

Of course I know, I told you I'm studying health tourism?

no, you skipped that detail but I don't doubt that those hands know how to move

.....

Sorry baby I was in a game, I couldn't answer you

Game? Do you play soccer?

No, my daughter is the one who plays

Oh your daughter...what's her name?

Sarah

How nice of you to go to her games

It's my responsibility sweetheart, and it's too good to miss.

..........

It was different every time, it felt different, in the best possible way, you didn't think you were really talking to him. You thought he was going to get bored of you for being a girl who had no topic of conversation, or simply because you looked very naive, but you had a good time talking to him, he was the only one you expected his messages from after a long morning.

It was friday, at this very moment you were with your friends in a river, they decided to have a picnic near a river that was not so far from their houses, they wore bathing suits because of course they could get in, even though it was so cold that you doubted it.

"Get in, it's not that cold" Nell said inside the river

"I don't believe you" you said hugging yourself

"Ash, Juliet get in so she can see I'm not lying" she yelled at your friend who was on the shore

"mmm" she thought about it for a moment while watching the river water drag with a minimum force

"Alright" she finally walk in and gasp

"It's not cold" she said while biting his lip

“You told me that it was not going to be so cold morons”

"It's a fucking river, what did you expect? it's not a jacuzzi" Nell said as she approached you to take your hand

"come on"

"Hell, if I get hypothermia, it's your fault."

"Yes Yes"

After a while of talks, laughs and some videos, you decided to take a photo to upload it to your story.

"Juliet, take a picture of me" you stretched out your hand where your cell phone was

"yep" approached you taking your cell phone in hand

Your bathing suit was two pieces, it had a very nice embroidery and it was white. In the end I took several of them so that you could choose which one you liked best, there was one that you undoubtedly liked more than the rest of the other photos, so you uploaded it.

At the end of the afternoon you decided to go back to your homes, on the way you' were listening to music, when you remembered that you hadn't talked to Joel all day, not even in the morning.

You know that he is a busy man, with a job, with a daughter, with many more important things on his mind than you, apart from you had agreed with your friends that you would not send him daily messages, at least not so much so that you would not see yourself so needy, Well, you didn't want to see yourself like that, you didn't want to push him away, you wanted to give him his space to focus on his life, but you lied to yourself that it was so that you wouldn't be infatuated anymore.

When you got home you took a shower, it was a relief for you to know that tomorrow would be Saturday, you were so tired that you could lie in bed and not hear from anyone for the rest of the night. But those thoughts vanished when you heard the Instagram notification coming from your cell phone.

It was a message from Joel

God doll, that suit suits ya' very well

Thank you :)

I hope you had a good time my little girl

YES, it helped me get some fresh air

I bought some other swimsuits a few days ago, do you want to see them?

Sure baby show me

You smiled at the answer, you went to your drawers where you had two more bathing suits, a black one-piece and a brown two-piece. You stood in front of the mirror that was in the corner of your room and decided to sit on the floor to take the photos, the poses were not as produced as you would like, but you tried to highlight your hips and waist.

You sent them, a few seconds later a bubble appeared in the chat

Shit sweetheart, how beautiful it looks on you, you have a beautiful body hon

It's a normal body haha it's not that bad

No, it's not just a body, it's your body, you're so damn beautiful baby

Do you want to see another?

let me see more honey

Send picture*

Shit baby that's not a bathing suit..!

It was a photo of you in nothing more and nothing less than a baby doll, made of transparent black fabric and pink lace on the edges of the cups and a bow in the middle of your breasts.

Why the fuck would you have a baby doll if you've never been with anyone…well remember I said virgins were more…needy and horny all the time, well this is part of it. One day you were walking through the streets, you had money and you passed by an adult store, where they sell all kinds of things, you went in out of curiosity, and you found the baby doll section, they were very pretty, you remembered some photos you saw on Pinterest of a girl wearing one so you bought it wanting to recreate those photos and upload them to your instagram, only you never did for fear your mom was going to see them but the photos stayed on your phone.

Do you like it?

Do you know what that photo can cause?…

Don't know…

that many men want you

What about you, do you want me?

I don't want you, I need you

Shit I need you so fucking bad baby

Right now?

Today and every day I think of you

I think about you too

What do you want from my darling?

All

Tell me and I'll give it to you

I want to do things with you that I haven't done with anyone else.

Shit I want to teach you things baby

I want every inch of you

you're a dirty girl aren't ya'

only when i'm horny

You look so innocent, I could swear you were a good girl

I'm a good girl, I'll be for you

Would you be a good girl for me?

I will be

You don't know the things I want to do to you right now

tell me..

words would not be enough sweet thing

Tell me what you would like me to do to you.

At that moment you didn't know what to answer, you knew the things you wanted to do but… what if you didn't like it, what if your expectations were too high, but you remembered that you weren't talking to a college boy, you were talking to a 48-year-old man , he would know how to make you feel good.

But again, that hole was felt in your stomach, fear and anxiety took over your mind

you must tell him you must tell him that you are a virgin who has never had sexual contact with any man or boy

you were not naive, Of course you weren't, you're a smart girl, you're informed about every sexual act that exists, the only thing you lack is security. Do you feel like it, of course you do, but you are too insecure with your body, with your buttocks

what will he say about all the stretch marks you have on your buttocks that's why you didn't show your butt in the photos

what would he think of your belly That's why you took a pose where you were less visible and held your breath

what did he think of you…it's not pink like other girls have

that was a great insecurity for you, you consumed porn and all that shit got into your head, a girl should have a pink vagina, her labia should have a pink perfect shape, you always saw that they were all the same and that's why men wanted them more, it was one of the reasons why you waited for someone who was the right one for the situation, someone who made you feel comfortable with your body and skin, who After all, don't go and tell his friends what your body was like or what the act was like, you wanted to protect yourself and your body from any criticism.

Even if you wanted to be with him, you didn't know if you could trust that much, you didn't know if you could trust him to see you all naked.

or trust that he wouldn't hurt you

You didn't want it to end so quickly, you wanted him to know you for who you are, not for what you wanted men to see of you.

you wanted to be different with him, you wanted to show him all your facets, you wanted him to tell you how good you were for him, and how proud he is to be the person you are.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn't realize that almost 10 minutes had passed since you sent the message

POV JOEL

After he sent you the message, he stayed inside the chat waiting for your response, he didn't see any bubbles appear on the screen, he assumed that maybe you were thinking about what to write, he left his phone on the table to go to the stove where he was cooking. He had arrived late from work, he was too lazy to make himself dinner, he was only going to go up to his room to bathe and sleep, but Sarah prevented him from doing that, she told him that he had to have dinner since he surely had not eaten well in the afternoon, and it was true, Joel had so much work that he couldn't think of anything else but that, and well…from time to time on you.

He served his food and sat down at the table. You hadn't written anything yet… which is weird since you both usually answered quickly, he didn't know if he made you feel uncomfortable or you didn't want to answer the question, or you just didn't want to talk about it, he was about to text you but a message popped up.

ummm I don't know if we should talk about this here

He read the message a little worried that he'd crossed a line or put yourself in a situation you might not want

Don't worry baby, the last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable, if you don't want to, you just have to tell me, okay?

You're not mad?

Of course not sweetheart, why would I?

because I was the one who put you in that state and now I don't want to continue

hey darling ya' shouldn't think like that okay i don't want you to feel that way

only idiots make pretty girls like you feel guilty

I'm sorry

You don't have to apologize baby, many idiots have hurt ya'?

I did´t had good experiences

I will take care of you baby girl, I will treat you well

After finishing the conversation and Joel finished his dinner, he got up leaving the plate in the sink, went upstairs to his room and got into the shower.

He couldn't stop thinking about you, how pretty you were, how interesting you were to him, he didn't want to sound like an idiot who only wants to get into the legs of a young girl but… you seemed like a mature girl for your age, he's known to many people who are your age and they are all different from you, most of them are irresponsible or do not have their feet on the ground, for some reason he feels that he can talk to you about anything and he will feel comfortable doing it, and he knows that you will understand everything he tells you.

He wants to feel your hands, how small they are in his, he wants to admire your eyes up close, study the color in them, he wants to hold your face in his hands, he wants to be able to hear your voice, know your smile and hear your laugh. It's crazy that he's thinking about that, especially with someone as young as you, sometimes he felt that what he was doing was wrong, at first he thought why such a beautiful girl had followed him, he was curious so he just followed you back, he hadn't seen your profile or anything, until the next day you published a story about a pasta, he went to your profile and it was the first time he was able to put a face to the name, he found you quite beautiful and pretty.

The night he received your message, he was with his brother and daughter in the living room, Sarah had taken the phone, Joel didn't pay attention to him but when Sarah gave him the phone, he saw the notification and your message on the screen, he took it from Sarah and he was laughing asking who you were, to which he replied with a simple “don't know kiddo” but the blush on his cheeks gave it away making Sarah and Tommy laugh.

You caused him things that he thought were forgotten, that he would never experience again, when you told him your age he swallowed hard, he didn't know what the hell he was going to talk to a 21-year-old girl, he couldn't with that league of girls, he was too old for that, but it wasn't until you challenged him that he felt that maybe he could change things, it didn't matter to him to try.

They had already been talking for weeks, he wanted to meet you, he wanted to have you in person, so he didn't hesitate to think of the crazy idea of asking you out.

.......................................

After that conversation you fell asleep, thinking about how he was when he was young, if he treated women well or maybe he was a jerk like any other.

The next day you felt awful because you hadn't slept well, you woke up every hour during the night, you couldn't stop thinking about what you could do to get rid of that anxiety.

You were in your bed still lying down, your phone next to you on top of the pillow, the whole blanket over your hair covering half of your face, you were face down already awake but you didn't want to get up, you stretched out your hand to the pillow taking your phone, you passed it under the sheets to have it in front of your eyes that were still half closed due to the crusts that were on them.

The time was 9:25, waking up at this time on a Saturday was weird for you, but you knew you couldn't go back to sleep.

You unlocked your phone and realized that you had several notifications from Instagram, you started to remove them without seeing them, except for one that was from a message from Joel that said:

i was thinking…

We've been talking for a while, I've really had a good time talking and getting to know ya', n' I was wondering if you'd like to meet in person?

I would like to invite you to have breakfast or lunch, whatever you want, wherever you want to go and make you feel comfortable, I would like to be able to talk to you in person.

Tell me if ya' think it's a good idea, I'll be on the lookout.

"shit"

That message woke you up immediately when you read it, you couldn't believe it, even if you read it over and over again it said the same thing.

"know each other?" you woke up sitting on the bed and leaning on your pillows

You looked at the phone and you didn't know what to do, he sent the message at night, 1 hour after you finished talking. Again you felt that anxiety in your chest and throat, what the hell were you saying, did you want to meet him? Did you want to know what he was like in person? Did you want to talk alone face to face with him? Did you want to leave your house to be with a “stranger”? It never crossed your mind that he would want to see you in person, not for a damn second, that you would talk, it was easier to talk to him by message, well it was easier for you.

What would happen in the moments of silence, what if it was an uncomfortable silence instead of a beautiful silence, what would happen if in the end it was not what you had imagined, what if in the end it was a damn pervert, no matter how handsome he was It's scary to meet him in person.

"What the hell do I tell him" you said in a whisper looking at the cell phone in your hands, you were trembling

You entered your messages and sent messages in your group of friends

I need your help!!

It took them a few minutes to reply

What happened?

tell us

Do you remember the man I'm talking to?

the old man? Yeah

Ahaha yes

Ash, well he told me if he wanted us to meet in person

what?!?!

No way!! Did you say yes or what?

No, I haven't told him anything yet, I don't know what to say

Spooky

Do you want to meet him?

I don't know, I'm scared to go out with someone older, I get bad dating someone my age, imagine how I am

it's different

did he tell you when he wanted to go out?

No, he just mentioned it, but he didn't tell me when

I guess until you tell him yes or no

Do you think it's a good idea?

If there is a part of you that wants to meet him… then do it.

Yes, remember that you said that you wanted to make a change in your life.

Yes, but I never thought it would be this change

So?

?

I think….I'll say yes?

If you do, be careful, even if you have already talked to him, you should always be alert, okay

Be very careful, you can send us a message, and send us your location

Ok, I'll see what he tells me, if today or when

You thought of all the possibilities, you can say that you didn't think of reaching that moment, that you don't like leaving your house….nah, not that, you can think of any excuse, but….do you really want to make an excuse? It's terrifying to be in a situation you don't know, with a man older than you, you were braver by text than in person, you're totally different, you're not so foul-mouthed, maybe dirty thoughts yes, but you didn't dare to say those things.

"fuck, how will I see him after I send him those photos"

You mentally hit yourself when you remembered the photo of the baby doll, God you are in trouble.

After thinking about it in the shower…and at breakfast, you took a deep breath thinking that it wouldn't be so bad, he told you that you could choose a place that would be safe for you, you can choose one not so far from home, you can leave if you don't feel comfortable You'll never know what might have happened if you don't try.

Ok, yes i would like, when?

You send him that. You were waiting for his answer, hoping it wouldn't be so soon, you needed to prepare yourself for what was to come, have everything in order in your head and look good, physically speaking.

You were looking at the window across from your bed when your cell phone vibrated in your hand.

Heavens to betsy, What do y' think tomorrow at noon?

what?! Tomorrow?!!! no fucking way

sure sounds good

what the hell am I going to do

.................................

t was Sunday, that's right, the day you would meet none other than Joel Miller

You were nervous, you went out to your balcony to breathe, you walked around your room checking that everything was in your bag, you looked in the mirror every 5 minutes, you checked that your makeup was shiny. The clothes were definitely the most difficult thing to choose, you didn't know what to wear, you knew something casual since you were going to the mall to eat and spend the afternoon, but you didn't know whether to wear pants or a dress, you were trying on everything you had, you wanted to look good for Joel, mature enough and look your age.

In the end you opted for a plain black skirt along with a plain white skintight shirt with a u-neck that highlighted your collarbones and highlighted your breasts, a black leather jacket and not-so-high-heeled black boots. A bit basic but you loved how you looked, you didn't want something colorful, you wanted something that made you feel sexy, and this outfit made you feel that way.

He told you that he was going to pick you up, you gave him your address but you told him to park a few more houses in front of yours, just so your mom or your brother wouldn't see you. he told you that he would arrive exactly at 12, there were 7 minutes left, you were nervous, you felt bad, your hands were cold, you needed to drink something, but you felt hot liquid in your throat.

"No fucking way"

You ran to the bathroom, knelt down and lifted the toilet seat, held your hair up and dumped all your breakfast inside. You wanted to cry because of how disgusting the scene was, you were going on a date with Joel and you found yourself throwing up in the bathroom less than 6 minutes after he arrived.

Your head was still inside the toilet when you heard the notification from your phone in the distance, you cursed inside, you breathed and you closed the lid pulling the lever so that the vomit would go away. You got up to brush your teeth pretty well, you didn't want any residue left anywhere. You took a mint that you had in your bag and you put it in your mouth, you took your cell phone and a message from Joel was on the screen.

I'm outside, I'm in a black pickup truck, three houses from yours

I had never felt so nervous in my life.

I left my house saying that I would be back at 7, I was shaking, trying to breathe as deeply as I could, I didn't want him to notice how nervous I was, when I left the gate I visualized the only truck that was parked in the distance. Shit, I have to act normal from now on, I don't want him to see me in the rearview mirror reeling with nerves.

I walked sure of myself, with my eyes on the truck, every time I got closer I could hear music coming from it, being at the end of the truck I could hear the song and I smiled, he was listening to Bryan Adams, he was the favorite singer from my dad.

The window was up on the passenger side, so I just touched the window glass and he turned to see me to stretch and open the door from the inside.

I entered the car carefully not to trip, I settled in the seat and it was just when I turned to see him. For the first time I had him in front of me, he was real, and hell he was so attractive in person, he had such a beautiful smile, his eyes looked bigger in person, they were a very beautiful dark brown color. He was wearing a green shirt, dark jeans and what he assumed were boots, he smelled too good.

You were so lost in your thoughts that when you heard his voice you came back to reality, his voice so manly, scratchy and strong but so relaxing at the same time, with that southern accent.

"hey sweetheart" had a smile plastered on his lips

"Hi" it is very possible that you were like a tomato at that very moment

"Finally I meet you in person" he keeps looking at you which causes you to turn your face in sorrow, you can't stop smiling

"That's right… you look much better in person" you dared to say to be able to relax and gain confidence faster

"Haha, thank you hon, you're beautiful, y' look beautiful" he reached out his hand to touch your face, placed his fingers under your chin and caressed it, admiring how beautiful you are.

"are y' ready?" he ask after moving his hand away from your face so he can start the car

"Yeah, sure." You turned around to put on your seatbelt.

The car continued on its way, he ask you where you would eat, since he was not familiar with the place, you told him about one of your favorite restaurants, something simple. While in the restaurant he told you that he had a surprise for you, something that they had not planned but that he decided to do.

"Do y' remember that ya' told me that y' had never ridden a horse or even met one?"

"Yes, I remember" you looked at him while chewing a small piece of food

"Well," he paused and turned to you with a tight-lipped smile, "would ya' like to go to a stable so y' can ride one for the first time?"

You looked at him stunned, you didn't know what to say, you just laughed nervously thinking that he was playing with you

"are you serious? You're not lying to me?" you pointed at him with your index finger

“darling, I would never lie to ya'”

All this was new, everything! Until now everything was going well, you were comfortable with him, and he seemed comfortable, you loved how he called you all those names that he called you on chat, it was so natural and so him, you loved horses and you had told him so. He did that for you , you looked at him and he looked at you with puppy dog eyes without taking his eyes off you, waiting for your answer.

How the hell would you say no to those eyes, to him.

"I guess it will be you and me and a couple of horses" you smiled to which he smiled back while drinking his beer

In the end you would arrive a little after 7

Let's ride horses I guess

............

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