#i hope my answer was sensible and clear

[sunnimint]

What if Metal was just controlled by his mobian self and his entire consciousness is inside of Metal while his mobian self is basically lifeless and has little consciousness..(If he had found out about his mobian self,he would atleast tell him that he is having a fine life and wouldn't want Sonic to discover)

Very interesting concept!!! In this case, it would imply that Eggman sought out a mobian- who is LOYAL to Eggman, blackmail or coercion wouldn't work- to transfer the mobian's consciousness into the killing machine that is Metal.

I feel like, at this point, it wouldn't be Metal. At least, not the one we're familiar with. Because the Metal in this situation is a mobian. A mobian who is already aware he's sentient and has the capacity to feel emotions right from the beginning. He's also aware he's NOT Sonic, which is essential to his character too (Unless there's some brainwashing involved, which is a whole different story).

Part of the reason why I like writing Metal so much is because of the endless possibilities you can write about HOW he becomes self-aware and learns how much emotions can bring him both joy and pain. Not to mention the identity crisis Metal has because he thinks he's the real Sonic, but very aware that he's not, in a way (like the one iconic scene from Sonic IDW where Metal touches the metal virus and sees that he's not affected by it like how Sonic is).

[slushycoookie]

What's That Smell? ~ Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

✩ Word Count: 3.1k

✩ Content: Worst!Logan and Hairdresser! Reader. Wade acts like he's innocent in this, but he's not. Pheromone perfume. Logan doesn't go feral, but he gets there. P in V. Vaginal Fingering. Squirting. MINORS DNI!!

✩ A/N: I had to write about my man reacting to pheromone perfume. Enjoy!

Masterlist | Commissions

“Happy birthday!”

Wade hands you a pink gift bag stuffed with sparkly tissue paper. “It's not my birthday.”

“You're so silly.” He waves you away with a sensible chuckle. “It's someone's birthday somewhere. Anyway, I saw this and thought of you.”

You pull out a small bottle of perfume decorated in a crystal clear color. The design looked oddly familiar, but you couldn't pinpoint where you saw it. “Oh, thanks. I've been meaning to get some more perfume.”

“Well, the gods answered, and as your friend, I am known for reading my friend’s minds.”

You're pretty sure Logan brought it up to him one day, but you didn’t question it. You thanked him with a hug, and he mentioned something about doing a fashion show for Mary Puppins when he left your apartment.

It was nice of Wade to give you a gift. He's always been generous towards you since you were with Logan, but you didn’t expect something like this.

You even mentioned Wade's generosity to Logan later on, who gave a questionable raise of an eyebrow.

“Really? He bought you perfume?”

“Yeah.” You pull out the bag and show him the bottle. “Wasn't that sweet of him?”

Logan squints at the bottle, still not convinced. “I guess so.”

“You guess so.” You rolled your eyes. “Can’t you believe that he wanted to be nice? He doesn't seem like the type to play a cruel joke.”

“Cruel isn't the word I'd use.” He grumbles.

You place the pink gift bag back on your dresser, reminding yourself to use it the next time you go out.

That next time was for running errands. You had to restock the kitchen, enough to last you and your superhero boyfriend, who loves to eat and drink, for a couple of weeks. Plus, you needed to get more supplies for the salon. Logan would meet up with you at the store since he spent the night back at Wade's to prep for Mary Puppin's first day at doggy school. You could tell from the brief phone call last night that he was worn out.

You throw on an oversized t-shirt, leggings, and sneakers. Not the most attractive outfit. Before you left, your eyes landed on the gift bag. Harmlessly, you sprayed Wade's perfume behind your ears and the space between your bicep and forearm.

Running errands was serious for you. You weren't the biggest fan of spending hours at the store, wasting time grabbing groceries. Logan agreed with you on that front, as he didn’t want to waste time either.

Once you stepped foot inside the store, you were ready. With a list in hand, you were filled with total concentration. A few minutes later, there was a shift.

You received a lot more attention.

Many people coming up to you to tell you smell good. You just started in the produce aisle, and four people approached you. It surprised you the multitude of compliments you were getting despite having the appearance of a bum. Others were making conversation while you were trying to shop, asking you simple questions about good salad dressing brands. Or how many spices you have in your home. Trying to get closer to you.

One man didn't seem to get the hint that you were busy. He offered to help you with your groceries while you were in the cereal aisle. Logan's favorite brand of raisin bran was on a high shelf, causing said man to grab it for you. You were polite, but maybe you shouldn't have been, as he constantly hovered around you. Drawn to you for reasons you can't explain. Talking your ear off about whatever he could think of.

“You probably have your own shopping to do. I don't want to distract you.” You say, hoping politely declining him would make him take the hint.

“No, no, it's alright. I don't want to leave a defenseless person like you.”

You hold back at getting annoyed, “…it's a grocery store.”

“Still, I just think-”

“You got cotton in your fucking ears?” In a blink, Logan grabs the intruding guy by his shoulder, effortlessly pushing him away. “She didn't need any fucking help, bub.”

The guy scoffs, rolling his hips to make himself look more arduous, “And who are you?”

“Her boyfriend, who isn't afraid to make you a pathetic stain on the ground.”

You knew he meant it, but you also didn’t want to get banned as you really liked this store. The guy took the hint, leaving the cereal aisle like a defeated puppy.

“My hero.” You kiss Logan's cheek and see him sniff the air. He turns towards you, pupils almost blown. Before you can ask if he's alright, he grabs your wrist, smelling the space between your bicep and forearm. The action makes you laugh a little.

“What's that smell?” Logan takes a few more sniffs, and you feel blood rush to your cheeks. “It's sweet. Really fucking sweet.”

“O-Oh, I put on perfume today.” You didn't need to ask if he liked it as he was glued to your form, sniffing behind your ears, his breath fanning your neck.

“Is this new? I've never smelled this before.”

“Yeah, it's the one from Wade.”

Logan lets out a groan that sends straight to your core. Goosebumps coat your flesh, and you shudder when his hands creep under your shirt to feel your bare skin. His touch was hot, almost making your back arch. You had to remember you were in a grocery store. There were eyes on you two, and you had to regain some control, or else there'd be two new names on the sex offender list.

“Baby, we got things to do.”

You pull away from him, trying to ignore Logan's dejected face at the fact they had errands to run. He hardly said anything else after that. He delegated his role to being the silent shopper, pushing the cart and responding briefly whenever you talked to him. To anyone else, he gave off the appearance of a man not wanting to go grocery shopping. You knew it was something else when you noticed his knuckles turning white from gripping the cart. Everything in your body warned you not to get close to him until the errands were done.

An unsettled feeling arose inside your stomach when the two of you were outside, a cart filled with groceries. Logan mentioned he brought Althea's car, which is one of the few words he's said since then.

He told you to wait in the car while he put the groceries in the trunk. You wanted to help, but he pushed you to go inside, almost gritting his teeth. There, you sat on the passenger side while waiting for him to finish. Logan was taking his time and acting completely different from your usual outings. At one point, you saw him with his head towards the sky, taking heavy breaths, hands on his hips.

You had a feeling this was your fault somehow.

When Logan got inside, you ask, “You okay?”

“No.” He doesn't start the car yet. You could see the veins across his hands when he gripped the steering wheel. “You don't know how fucking good you smell right now. It's everywhere. My nose, my head, my thoughts. You don't know bad I'm trying not to rip your clothes off and fuck you in the backseat. ”

You didn't know what to say, but you liked it. Your thighs squeezed together at how a couple of spritzes of perfume were affecting him.

“Is it that bad? Do you wanna go home instead?”

Logan shakes his head, “You still have to go to the beauty store.”

“I can get those things another day-”

“No, sugar. I'm not ruining your plans because of a damn perfume.”

Butterflies tangle in your stomach. This man still had ways to make you shiver. You just needed to be a responsible adult for a bit longer.

The beauty store was five minutes away, but being in the car with Logan felt like an eternity. His large hand rested on your thigh, creating heat through his palm. Your thoughts wanted him to go higher, near your sex, to feel how horny you were getting. The car started getting warmer too, sweat forming on your brow. If Logan hadn't smelled you earlier, he would probably have smelled you now.

“I'll go in with ya.” He offers when pulling into a parking spot.

“No need! I'll probably be a bit anyway.”

You rush out of the car before he can say anything else. Practically running inside the store so you can get your mind straight. Your boyfriend's words were hovering in your mind, and you resisted the urge to turn back around and have him go by his word.

You needed to calm your mind. Hopefully shopping for more supplies would help and Logan staying in the car.

“Now, what kind of man would I be if I let my lady go in alone?” Logan's gruff tone sent chills across your spine and his arm around your waist to press against your back. No words escaped you as he sniffed behind your head. “Say something.”

“Logan…” You let out a shaky breath, trying not to falter at the proximity. He couldn’t resist copping a feel on your breast, which made you bite your lip. “There are cameras.”

He grunts, burying his face in your neck as you two stand awkwardly in the shampoo aisle. Thank goodness there was no one nearby to witness it.

“I'm behaving.”

“Barely.”

When you were usually out to restock, you were quick, decisive, a separate list on hand to make sure you had everything you needed for the salon. This time, you were slower and more distracted as Logan was glued to your hip. Giving you extra hugs after picking up an item you need on your list. A gentle kiss to your neck. His arm possessively around your waist. The man wasn't even a massive fan of pda either. Whatever this perfume was had him forgo his usual self.

When people were nearby, he didn't leave your side. His large pupils were on them as if they were a threat as if they were going to take you away from him.

If you had any more errands to run, that would have to wait another day. Once you two checked out from the store, your man was about to snap.

Logan was dead silent when he started the car, his knuckles almost turning white again. The apartment was only fifteen minutes away, and you weren't sure if he would be able to hold on that long. You only noticed deep, heavy breaths that overshadowed the radio you turned on to distract yourself. You weren't sure if you wanted to ask if he was okay again. You had a feeling he was going to go true to his word to fuck you in the backseat.

Once pulling up to your apartment, you were ready to get out, but his hand held yours to stop you.

“I'll get the bags.”

“There's a lot of them, I can help-”

“No.” He cuts you off, bringing your wrist up to his face and taking a long sniff. You squeezed your thighs together at the sight. A whimper almost escaped your lips. “Go wait in our room.”

You had nothing else to say after that.

You did as you were told, sitting on the edge of the bed while holding your hands. Your heart pounding in your chest as you heard Logan bring the bags inside. You weren't sure why you were nervous. You were doing what you were told.

Maybe he told you to wait because the scent was becoming unbearable. That he couldn’t focus, or your scent was dampening his enhanced abilities. Did you mess up? All you did was put on perfume. Or did Wade mess up? Did he accidentally bring you something that affected mutants? You should’ve thought twice before accepting a gift from him.

Slow and heavy footsteps made it's way into the room. You watched Logan close the door and lock it as if there was anyone around to disturb you.

“Take off your clothes.” He starts pulling off his own shirt.

You did so, albeit a bit slower than him. Your thighs clenched as you knew your cunt was wet from all of the waiting, the touches, and kisses from the stores, his filthy words. Logan's eyes scanned your naked body when he got closer. You tried not to focus on his hard cock, red around the tip, cum leaking from it. You wondered how long he was holding that in.

“You got some type of power I don't know about?” He doesn't give you a chance to answer when he presses against your naked body. Heat coming from his chest that was making you flustered. “You secretly a mutant, and you decided not to tell me?”

“No! No, I'm not a mutant. I swear all I did was just put on some perfume-”

Logan silences you with a kiss. Hands on your sides while groaning between your lips. You thought he was mad at you, yet he was sticking his tongue down your throat. His rough hands on your sides. You hold on to him for dear life when he parts, sniffing the air, and you feel yourself getting wetter.

“Motherfucking perfume should not make you smell this good, Jesus fucking Christ.” Logan swears while he's buried against your neck again, licking and sucking along your skin. You whine at how rough he's getting, as if he needs more of you. “I won't get mad if you tell me you are a mutant right now because fuck…”

Logan picks you up and tosses you on the bed. You barely have time to recover when he flips you over on your stomach. A hand presses on your back, keeping you firmly against the mattress. His lips kiss behind your earlobe before giving it a gentle nibble. That makes you shift underneath him, causing him to shush in your ear.

“Hold still.”

You do as you're told, whimpering at the touch of his lips against your nape. A light kiss, one that makes you want to put your head back, which is followed up by a nibble. Logan does the same while trailing down your back. You feel his hands palm the globes of your ass while he does so, creating tiny circles with his thumbs.

You moan into your pillow, and you know you're embarrassingly wet now. Your cunt is pulsing with the need to have him inside you already. His fingers dip inside you, and you gasp in surprise. Logan's able to pump his thick digits into your aching hole while leaning over you again, taking another whiff of your perfume.

“Lift your hips up for me, baby.”

You struggle to move your hips as he’s still two fingers inside you, but he helps you, a firm hand on your hip. When he does so, he moves down to your clit. The two fingers coated with your wetness parted your folds, rubbing that sensitive bud. It was getting harder to do as you were told. Keeping still as he played with your pussy. Taking in how delicious you smelled with the perfume.

“Logan.” You murmured against your pillow, “Please…”

“Please? My lady's begging for me?” Logan lets out a short laugh, not stopping his fingers. “You want me to fuck that pretty pussy of yours, huh?”

“Please…” You were on the brink of tears, that familiar feeling in your stomach about to tip over. Logan didn't show you any mercy, making you sob against your sheets. His fingers rubbed your sensitive clit until you couldn’t take it anymore.

You ached for him to be inside, cunt pulsing for him to slip his cock in. Once again, the tip of his nose brushed against your ear lobe as well as his cock in your sex. Your body quivered as his chest was on your back, hovering over you for complete control.

“Think you can give me another?”

You didn't have time to answer as he started pounding into you. Sticky, wet sounds in your ears as you were pinned. Not having a single thought every time Logan's hips met with yours, mouth wide open as you were being fucked dumb. A hint of your drool staining the sheets.

The headboard banging against the wall, mattress squeaking as Logan kept going. Grunting in your ear, saying that your scent was even better after your orgasm. That he wasn't going to come until you squeezed around his thick cock. And he meant it when he rubbed against your pulsing clit. You shook, moaning at his touch and how his cock pistoned into you.

Logan was angled perfectly to where he started hitting your G-spot, causing your vision to get blurry. Still not stopping on the assault on your clit.

“Lo…Logan…” Your body was getting hotter, another climax on the horizon.

“You almost there, princess?” Your answer was only a whine, and that was good enough for him. “That’s it, that's it. Do it for me, baby.”

This orgasm was different. As you came undone, wetness coated Logan's cock, some dripping down your thighs and his own.

“Oh fuck-” Without warning, he shot up inside you. Grunting in your ear while his seed filled your cunt, mixing with your own arousal and trailing down your thighs as well. Logan lazily pumped into you to make sure you got it all while groping your ass.

You could hardly move with Logan on top of you. Thank goodness he didn't rest his total weight on you, or you'd be crushed. He waited a few moments before pulling out, leaving you to lie on your side, completely docile.

No words were said when he cleaned you up, towel between your legs as he kissed your forehead. You started getting coherent enough to realize the groceries were still out, but Logan said he already put them away for you.

With a sigh of relief, you glanced over at the perfume before reaching for your phone to look up the label. That's when your eyes went wide at the reveal.

Wade gifted you pheromone perfume.

No wonder Logan was acting unhinged all day. With his heightened sense of smell, of course something like this would affect him. That is definitely the last time you take a gift from Wade.

As you showed Logan what the perfume was, his brows furrowed in slight annoyance, calling him an asshole.

“But,” Logan folded his arms, glancing away from you. “I wouldn't mind if you wear this more often…”

[primofate]

You are the embodiment of fairness...

is what Neuvillette believes. There is not a single hair on your body that is selfish. Not a single thought in your mind that strays into evil thoughts.

The Chief Justice is just as fair, just as sensible. Though on you, he stays his gaze for a moment longer. Allows the slightest tug upward of his lips as you discuss the latest trial with him. The difference between the two of you? He doesn't think that he is as "well-behaved" as you are. There have definitely been times where he had thought to abandon his gentlemanly and prestigious image, just to lean in and brush his fingers on your cheek. Thankfully, so far, he hasn't done so, even though the two of you had decided to enter a romantic relationship.

The Chief Justice was very guarded, but so were you. The two of you were never seen together, only in the privacy of his home or yours did the two of you enjoy each other's company. Perhaps only his most trusted Melusines knew. Professionalism was important.

"I hope the next trial resolves to your liking, Neuvillette," you smile knowing what his answer would be.

"It isn't my thoughts that are important, Y/N-" he starts and he finishes his sentence at the same time as you chide in with him.

"It's the evidence. I know, I know,"

You bid him goodbye rather curtly, not even a kiss, just a brief pat on the arm. It's working hours, and it's not the time to do such a thing.

Working hours.

As the Chief Justice sat in court, trial in session, he locks eyes with you, the accused. He recognizes the confusion in your eyes as genuine, the hidden panic behind clear as day.

"Neuvil--Your honour," You catch yourself, voice trembling a little. "This is a mistake, it wasn't me,"

and yet all the evidence points to you. Photographs, witness accounts, the hat that you'd left behind in the crime scene. No matter which way you look, the answer was you.

"Guilty," was all he could muster, when he usually said more. His hand looked for the oratrice, hoping that the machine would give him something different, but he already knew it in his heart.

"According to the judgement of the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale, the accused, L/N Y/N is..."

One second.

Two.

Three seconds.

Four.

The crowd started to bristle a little.

At five he opened his mouth, and closed it again, gritting his teeth in secret.

At six, he repeated his own words. "Guilty,"

Cheers erupted from the audience, he could not bring himself to look at your face, though he heard you loud and clear.

"No! NO! This is a mistake! I didn't kill anyone!" Your hysterics were comparable to a mother who had lost her child. To a hardworking man watching his hard earned house burn down.

"NEUVILLETTE PLEASE!"

The Gardes struggled, just as they always did, but you pushed forward, unable to understand nor accept what happened. At that moment you had not noticed the tears of desperation running down your cheeks.

You were going to that underwater prison forever. Dark and alone. What if the sea swallowed you? Or worse, what if the silence swallowed you? All by yourself hundreds of feet below, drowning was such an easy possibility.

Neuvillette almost grimaces, but keeps his face hard as stone. There are a thousand things running in his mind...but the Oratrice was absolute, and so was its verdict.

"Bring the accused to The Fortress of Meropide,"

The wails you let out haunted him, more than any other trial had.

Author's Note: Hello! This is just a quick update, literally wrote it in 30 minutes so excuse any pronoun slips or mistakes! I just wanted to let everyone know I am great and still playing Genshin! Just a quick reminder that The Ruthless Prince is still available on Amazon in paperback and all my previous works are still accessible in my Masterlist!

Do let me know what you think of this one though, and if you think I should turn it into a full fic!

[withahappyrefrain]

could i request jake and meet cute 30 or 38?

I went with 30! Thank you!

"You need to get laid.”

Jessica’s words almost made you choke on your drink. It shouldn’t be a surprise, considering how much she and the rest of the group talked about tonight being the night to find a hot guy to take home.

“I hope they play Hot to Go,” you stated, ignoring her statement.

She playful shook your shoulder, “C’mon! We all agree it’s time you get back out there! And what better place to do so than here?”

Jessica motioned to the rest of the bar, which was currently full of men and women in uniforms.

“Just because y’all have a uniform kink, doesn’t mean I do too,” you retorted, earning a laugh from the rest of the group.

“Hey, the uniform shows they can make a commitment and they have a steady job. That’s a rarity in itself,” Leah remarked, “Plus, Jess is right. What was the last time you tried speaking to someone?”

You didn’t respond, due to the answer being embarrassing. It had been close to a year since your last break up. Every time the prospect of dating was brought up, you were able to counter it with an excuse. Work is too busy. I have a lot going on. I need time for myself. I want to focus on myself.

“Even if you get their number, you don’t have to text them,” Rosa jumped in, sensing your uneasiness, “It’s more so about putting yourself out there, getting back into the swing of things.”

“Besides, there are so many!” Jess exclaimed, “Like look at….oh wait, nevermind. Guy in glasses is totally Leah’s type. Well then there’s……oh he’s cute too. That one is mine, okay?”

Leah elbowed Jess, bringing her back down to Earth, “We can even help you! If you want,” your more sensible friend offered.

“Yes! We’d love to help you!” Jess grabbed your hand, squeezing it as if to contain her excitement.

“If you want,” Rosa added.

“That’s very nice of y’all. But not tonight, okay?” You hoped your firm statement would deter them from any shenanigans.

It did not.

Jessica was literally dragging guys over to the table to talk to you. Rosa was pulling the “haaaave ya met my friend?” card. The only person who seemed to be having a good time was Leah, who was currently sharing a cup of peanuts with the birth control goggles wearing aviator.

Y’all were going to get kicked out of this bar.

Just one number!

Their words rang in your ears. After Jessica brought over what had to be the sixth pilot, you knew you couldn’t take much more. So without warning, you stood up and darted to the bar, leaving Jessica and whatever his name was.

Just one number. You didn’t even have to flirt, you could explain the situation and get a fake number. That would shut your friends up and you wouldn’t have to text the guy back. A win-win situation for all.

There was a wait at the bar, which gave you the perfect amount of time to scope out someone who would take pity on you.

Then you heard Jessica call your name from across the bar. You had to get this over with quickly.

Tapping on the shoulder of the nearest man, you prayed for sweet relief.

Aw fuck, he was hot.

Of course you picked the reincarnation of Adonis, with his chiseled face and broad chest. The short sleeves of his uniform showed off his strong arms, tying in perfectly with his coiffed blonde hair and stunning green eyes. When he cleared his throat, you were reminded that you had tapped him on the shoulder and this beautiful man was expecting you to speak.

“I'm so sorry, but my friends won't stop bothering me until I get someone's number tonight, it doesn't have to be your real one, I'm just so tired of their shenanigans,” you confessed, motioning towards your group of friends who were now watching you from their table.

“Again, it doesn’t have to be your actual number, I just need-”

“Shouldn’t we make it believable?” There was a twang with his words, revealing a Southern upbringing.

Of course he had a cute accent too. The universe really wanted you to suffer tonight. And of course, all you could do was let out a squeak of confusion.

“So your friends believe it?” He explained, his lips forming into a dangerously charming smirk, “Also, I’ve been hoping for a chance to talk to ya ever since you walked through the door."

“I….I don’t know your name,” was the only thing you could get out. Christ, you were stupid.

He chuckled, though it wasn't malicious, “I'm Jake. Can I buy you a drink before giving you my number?”

"You....actually want my number?" You were in disbelief. There was no fucking way. The universe must be playing a trick on you.

Jake nodded, the smile remaining on his face, "Have wanted it since I heard ya laugh."

Maybe tonight would turn out perfectly fine after all.

[fen-luciel]

The witches' covenant

Part.1 part.2

Here's the smut story I promised. It was supposed to be short, but of course, I dragged it out. I'm not yet sure if it will be divided into two or three parts, as the original draft is becoming darker than initially intended.

I hope you enjoy it.

WARNINGS!

Smut/Manipulation/coven/dubious consent

Witch reader X Sith Qimir

There are things you take for granted in life.

Breathing is a rhythmic movement of the body, automatic but fundamental. Maybe no one ever explained to you how or why, but you know it works that way. It's natural. Maybe you've never asked yourself because you take it for granted.

Growing up in a coven of witches led to asking a lot of questions to which you often didn't get an answer, at least not a sensible one. I still remember the first times I asked my mother about the thread, actually, I don't remember her answer, but I do remember being confused. I think she wanted me to find my own logic, and if needed, she would correct me. But I was ashamed, afraid of saying something stupid, and I felt embarrassed when the older members gave me that amused courteous smile after I had said something silly. I know they didn't mean to judge me, but the knot in my stomach that formed every single time was suffocating. So, I developed a bad habit.

I stopped asking. I would nod, at most I would ask to have the explanation repeated, but I never took the first step. "Do you understand?" I would nod. "Do you have any questions?" I would deny.

Yes, I had questions. I had a lot of them, many of which kept me up at night, like doubts about the thread, about our coven, about our planet, about what was outside the galaxy... but I didn't ask.

I tried to give myself answers. As the years went by, I realized that I wasn't the only one without answers. It was clear that many, like me, blindly followed my mother's will as the head of the coven.

Do you have a doubt? Talk to Aniseya.

Don't know what to do? Aniseya.

Are you suffering? Talk to Mother Aniseya.

Everyone sought answers from my mother, and I could understand why, she was... ethereal.

Always calm, with a warm smile, a gentle hand... she made you feel safe.

When I was younger, one of the things that terrified me the most was the fear that something bad would come to harm us one day. I was too young to give a real shape to the evil, it was more an unpleasant sensation that I imagined, and my mother could perceive it without me saying anything.

So, sometimes, in the evening, when everyone else was asleep, we would go out into the woods alone, with a small light to guide us, and we would reach the golden tree.

I loved that place even though it was another one of those things I couldn't explain since it seemed to be the only tree of its kind. I would rest my head on my mother's lap, and as she gently stroked my hair, she would tell me a lot of different stories, fairy tales, adventures, legends. She seemed to know an infinite number of them. I would have liked to ask her where she had heard them, but even in that case, I didn't ask. And so, every time, the next morning, I would wake up in my room, comfortably lying under the covers, the nightmares completely forgotten... at least for a while.

Growing up, many of those childhood fears disappeared, or I managed to answer them on my own thanks to years of study. However, other doubts occupied my mind.

For example, why were we so isolated from the rest of the world?

Why could we use the power of the thread?

Where did our traditions come from?

How ancient were they?

And how were other witches born?

I had seen pregnant women in the village, I had heard the cries of childbirth, the first cries of the babies, the birth of new life in the world was fascinating even though I had never seen the act in person, being too young or unable to help. But it was what happened before that confused me.

Every five years, a meeting was held, after which ten women would leave the walls of the fortress, and after a few months, they would return expecting.

I didn't know what happened, what they did. I believed there was some sort of ritual I wasn't yet admitted to. I imagined that one day it would happen to me too. As the daughter of the matriarch, I had more responsibilities than the others, I would take my mother's place one day. I imagined I was obliged to participate in any ritual presented to me in the coming years. As I was the future of the coven, one day I would have to create the new generation.

When I was about twelve years old, I realized something was off in my mother's stories and finally decided to ask her a question.

"What is a man?"

The embarrassment was still there, under my skin, but she smiled at me gently. Her answer was cryptic as always, but it made me feel better to hear it. "Everything in the galaxy has its opposite. Light and dark, peace and chaos, ice and fire. Woman and man. And between these opposites, many shades that draw closer until they merge. We are opposites and the same thing at the same time"

I nodded, but as usual, more because I felt stupid asking further.

"So... are men evil?" I tried one last time.

She shook her head.

"Do you think you are pure? Gender is only a physical limit, not a mental one. Don't combine the two, it would be a grave mistake" I was ashamed of that question, but I felt better. I felt like I understood.

Years passed, I began to mature, to train more vigorously, to study even more. I was increasingly involved in meetings, though some were still off-limits to me. And the more I became aware of the thread, the more... something called to me.

At first, it was like an unwanted gaze. I would wake up in the middle of the night believing there was someone with me, but upon waking, the room was intact. I even took extra precautions, but none of the alarms went off. I thought I was just stressed.

But the sensation worsened. I felt chills on my skin when I was in the waking world ready to fall asleep, a light touch that grazed my bare skin. At first, I thought it was the wind. Then, the fabric sliding over me at night. Maybe a chill or pajamas tickling me unintentionally, but that wasn't possible.

It seemed like a physical touch, hands, perhaps a feather, I don't know. But it warmed my skin. I would wake up in the middle of the night, uncomfortable, with a damp sensation between my legs that I had never experienced before. Sometimes, I mistook it for other types of discharge only to check and realize it wasn't what I imagined. I blushed, seeing how wet my underwear had become, leaving a sticky, damp spot in the center, the same liquid trickling between my legs or down the cheeks of my butt.

One evening, whether by luck or misfortune, as I headed to the laundry to leave my panties, I ran into Mother Koril.

"What are you doing awake at this hour? And wandering the corridors, Moreover." her tone always harsh and imperious.

It took an enormous amount of courage to explain to her what was happening, but despite my worst fears, she simply nodded. "It's normal for a girl your age. You shouldn't resist it" She ordered me to hurry and go back to bed, then disappeared down the corridor.

But I didn't understand. Resist it? Resist what? It was just another doubt I couldn't answer.

But now the seed of doubt had been planted. I wanted to understand what she was talking about, to see if I could fix this problem that kept recurring every night.

So, one evening I lay down in bed, making sure I was securely locked in, and against all logical reason, I decided to wear only a light tank top, leaving my lower half uncovered.

The only protection was the bedcovers, but I didn't think it would be a problem.

I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

To this day, I didn’t know exactly what happened that first night. I have scattered and confused memories. I was aware of my body lying on the mattress, but it was completely dark around me, and I couldn't tell if it was because I had my eyes closed or if it was so dark that I couldn't see a hand in front of my face.

All I knew is that the tingling sensation returned, that shiver that ran through my body from my forehead slowly downwards, my nipples hardening as if a gust of cold air made me shiver and even lower on my stomach, finally settling between my legs.

It was a light touch, a slow, long movement that grazed my center externally. I could feel the wetness beginning to seep from my core. Normally, that would have been the moment when I forced myself to wake up, but I repeated Mother Koril's words in my head "let yourself go"

And so I did.

Instinctively, I spread my legs wider, bending my knees, that touch lingering on the bud between my legs that I had never dared to touch in my life, starting to tease me inexorably in a slow, circular motion. I could hear myself panting, my hips moving erratically. It didn't matter if I was trying to escape or seek out that sensation, that touch didn't stop. I didn't understand what was happening, but I could concentrated my internal muscle in one of those natural movements like when I breathed, I did it automatically.

My body knew what I needed, even if I hadn't yet processed it mentally.

It was only a moment later when that caress moved further down where a pool of juices wet my behind that I became clear-headed again.

A pressure pushing into my wet center made me react suddenly, frightened. I woke up, sitting up in bed in one swift motion, as if walking from a nightmare. Moving the covers, I immediately saw the stain spreading and soaking through the sheets' fabric.

I was so ashamed of it that I decided not to tell anyone, tried to dab the stain hoping that it would not be visible the next day, had to dry between my legs with numerous tissues and hissed when I indirectly brushed my still sensitive clit.

I went to sleep with a sense of dissatisfaction that I did not understand.

For two days I pretended that nothing was happening, when I lay down and started to feel that tingling sensation I immediately opened my eyes again, unfortunately in this way the hours of sleep were broken and I rested with more difficulty being slow in everything I did.

On the third day, my mother realised my discomfort and after a particularly bad training session, she took me aside.

"Koril informed me of your conversation the other night" she began.

I could do nothing but tighten my lips in discomfort.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of. Your body is changing as you grow. This is the connection to the thread that shows you the way. You don't have to resist it"

I replied with only a nod of my head.

I didn't understand what she was talking about, what I was resisting but I didn't know who to ask more of, I didn't want to look stupid.

But I trusted my mother.

So that night I tried again.

One thing I realised was that that touch had become more insistent on those evenings that I had run away from it. As if it was chasing me before I woke up, I closed my eyes and could already feel it between my legs.

Again, one new evening I tried against all my primal instincts to let go. One thing I realised was that the sensation I felt on my skin was actually an imitation of a hand's touch, the mornings I showered before joining the others had become a time of personal exploration where I tried to imitate that touch and soon realised that I could actually register that as the caress of a hand on my body. But I did not have the courage to do more.

Instead that evening as I concentrated on breathing in the darkness of my consciousness those phantom fingers returned insistently, they did not lose a second in teasing me by pressing directly on my clit, it was gentle yes, but firm. My legs instinctively spread wide, my hips in the air hungry for touch as that circular motion returned to tease my flesh.

I could feel a steady trickle of juices sliding from me and wetting the mattress as I trembled and tensed.

I gasped open-mouthed, little noises escaped my mouth, I wanted more even though I didn't understand what exactly I was chasing, and then again, that pressure where I needed it most.

There was no doubt when that itch opened my folds pushing deep between my legs, it was like feeling long, thick fingers digging directly into my womb, I panicked as I tried to wake up, but something was blinding me. Someone was tied to me in the wire holding me still and open to whatever was being done to me.

I was stuck with my legs open as that force pressed my inner walls, stretching and teasing me in a slow movement.

I could only continue to whimper as those fingers opened me inexorably.

Everything slippery, the sound of juices coming out noisily from the pressure as yet another caress returned to tease my bud, my swollen, wet flesh trembling from the stimulation, a hint of tears forming at the corners of my eyes, I wanted to look at what or who was doing this to me but it was all dark, I could only feel the mattress beneath me, my arms locked along my sides, my only outlet was in clutching the blankets in my fist.

I felt my body tense up in a vice bordering on painful before that touch continued to force its way into my folds even more deeper than before, I felt like I was going crazy not fully understanding how many fingers were in me, I moaned out loud for the first time as the soft walls stretched to make room, I held my legs open in a desperate search for something more almost hoping it might come in, harder, wetter, a ringing in my ears made everything muffled blocking out the rest of my senses.

And finally almost in a cruel gesture the touch on my clit became faster joining the thrusts in my core, a fire burning my skin, vibrating with a pleasure I had never felt before, a tide flooding my senses rhythmically until I reached the limit I cried out with no voice in my body, the walls contracted around those fingers almost as if they wanted to suck them inside me and these, covered by my fluids, slid easily in and out of me without leaving me a moment to breathe, my clitoris pinched hard one last time making more tears fall from my eyes, my hips galloping the air as I reached the first orgasm of my life.

Maybe I was crazy, but I swore I heard a low voice whispering "Good girl".

When I opened my eyes it was morning, it was like waking up from a nightmare in reality, I had dry skin around my eyes from spilled tears and between my legs a dirty, wet feeling, underneath me the sheet still damp in a stain under my bottom.

I didn't know what was happening, none of it made sense, why was this only happening to me now? And who was on the other end of the line?

By now I was sure of it, someone was luring me during the night hours by drawing my consciousness through the link, but I was still not good enough to be in control of what was going on around me, I was becoming vulnerable in the hands of someone I didn't know, or at least it felt like I didn't know.

Over the next few days I concentrated on searching for that signature in the coven, I found it hard to believe that anyone would dare use the power of the thread on me, I was the matriarch's daughter, I was respected, we were united and yet no matter how hard I searched nothing seemed to resemble what I had felt that night, not to mention that bond itself was silent.

On the one hand I was glad that it was no longer coming to disturb my sleep, but on the other hand... I blushed at the idea of feeling those shivers again, I had even (not without a huge dose of embarrassment) tried to do it on my own, but clearly I was doing something wrong, I was too hard, too hasty and in the end I was left with a sense of incompleteness that irritated me all day long.

I felt used, it seemed like whoever had sought me out had taken what he wanted and then left, it had been so persistent in the beginning and now? I needed... more.

And I knew I wouldn't fight it.

I wasn't a bad student, my mothers were proud of the results I brought I was consistent and diligent, but I improved even more after that experience, I studied harder, more intensely... I would never explain to either of them why I had changed.

And what was I supposed to tell them anyway?

Someone touches me between my legs at night and I realised I want more...? No it was better to avoid.

The subject of private parts was not taboo in the coven, in fact there were specific rituals regarding the sensuality of the body, I didn't know much about them since I wasn't admitted to those yet, but the body is a temple of physical and mental wellbeing and as such should be cared for.

I was simply too embarrassed to ask for more, as usual, I knew more about the medical side of it, but I had never wanted more, I hadn't even thought about it and there weren't really any girls my age to vent to.

All I knew was that by now I had made up my mind.

I would be the one pulling the strings this time and I hoped that whoever was on the other end would respond.

[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.

[velvateen]

Dinner for Two - Sanji x Reader Smut!!

Sanji comes over to make dinner, how could you return the favor?

warnings: fem bodied reader, no pronouns used, nickname “princess” is used i can’t help it i’m sorry, oral sex, unprotected sex, sanji is a slut 😊

MDNI ‼️‼️

“Okay, so you brought me dinner and flowers now, this is so unfair!” You huffed, setting the flowers he had brought you down on an endtable by your entryway. He kicked off his shoes.

“I don’t have anything to contribute to this date at all!” Sanji leaned to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“Don’t be ridiculous, my dear, you being here is all I need. Can you show me the kitchen?” You nodded, hoping the blush that had crept across your face was subtle, the way he spoke and treated you always made you sheepish. You walked him to the kitchen of your apartment, and he settled in right away, a delicious aroma filling the air as you leaned against the counter and he started to cook. The dinner date was his idea, even though to you it sounded like he was bringing work home with him, but if it was what he wanted to do, then who were you to turn down a free meal?

After a few good dates, here he was, this guy who seemed too good to be true, bringing you flowers and cooking you meals. What was next? Him moving in? The less sensible side of you hoped so. You shook those thoughts away and focused back on watching him cook and dice and chop and whatever else he was doing. It was nice to watch him work so skillfully, mesmerizing almost.

Holy shit his hands. How hadn’t you seen them before? You felt like melting over the countertop where you stood. He kept his hands so clean, habit picked up from working in a kitchen his whole life, you bet. His fingers were so long and his hands flexing with the movement of the knife made you forget to breathe. It was a few seconds before you realized you were blatantly staring. Before you realized he was noticing. Your eyes met his and this time the blush that fell on your face was hot and undeniable.

You cleared your throat. “Im sorry, what were you saying?” He smiled.

“I didn’t say anything.” His gaze stayed on you, “It seems like you have something on your mind,” he leaned over the sink to wash his hands.

He’s doing this on purpose, isn’t he? You took a sip of your drink and shook your head, “No, I, I didn’t have anything,” You couldn’t help but look away, his gaze on you was searing. He dried his hands and walked over to you.

“You sure, my dear,” his hand reached up and held your chin, “Nothing at all?” The look he was giving you was taunting, and it was becoming near impossible to hold any kind of resolve. You went to shake your head again, but he held you firmly and tilted your head up, leaning over to whisper in your ear. “You know I’ll do anything you ask me too. All you have to do is tell me what you want.” Your resolve crumbled with his breath against your neck, and you stepped away from him, walking out of the kitchen. You stopped at the doorway to the hall.

“You should probably turn the burner off.”

In seconds he was with you in the hallway, the top buttons of his shirt hastily undone as you kissed in a slow walk towards your room. Your hands traced his collarbone as you slipped through the door and sat on the bed. Your shirt was somewhere between here and the kitchen.

“You know what,” you breathed between kisses, “I think I thought of something I can do for this date,” your hands traced down to unbutton his pants as you sank to the floor. His breath caught in his throat as your fingers toyed with the hems of his boxers.

You looked up at him, his eyes pleading with you. You smiled up at him. “All you have to do is tell me what you want.” You began tracing the outline of his dick through his boxers and he inhaled sharply. All the cool he had earlier had left the second he left the kitchen, it seemed.

“Please, beautiful,” was the only thing he could manage, but it was an acceptable answer for you for now. Tugging his dick free from it’s confinements, you leaned over and spit on his tip, his soft gasps going straight to the space between your legs. You watched it drip down the length of his dick before wrapping your hand around the base and bringing your mouth to kiss the tip. He couldn’t help but sigh at the contact, in total disbelief of how beautiful you looked right now, how you were doing this for him. You began to take him into your mouth, tongue tracing the sensitive underside of his dick, cheeks hollowed out as a large hand softly rested on your head. Your head bobbed as you switched between licking around his head and taking him as far deep as you could. His breaths were quickening, and it took everything to not buck his hips into your mouth.

“You’re-- fuck-- taking me so well, my love.” The hand that rested on your head was gently pushing it down and tears brimmed your eyes as you hummed at the motion. The vibration from your voice was getting him dangerously close to finishing right then and there, and he quickly pulled your face away from him.

You sat back up on the bed and onto his lap as his lips met yours, “Don’t want to spoil your appetite,” he huffed, “so why don’t we put these hands you love so much to good use?” His fingers ghosted the sides of your body, making you shiver as they looped around your underwear, pushing them to the side. He made contact with your slit, pushing slightly in to gather some of the dampness that had gathered there. You jolted slightly as his finger lightly pushed on your clit, and he smiled to himself, holding you steady as he began to draw small circles around it. Your eyebrows furrowed in feeling as the circles grew bigger, his fingers dipping down and padding across your entrance. You shuddered when he worked two fingers inside, pulling them against your soft tissue. You leaned into his shoulder at the feeling of his fingers hooked inside you, pressing.

“That’s it, you’re doing so well, my love.” He freed his hand and pulled you closer by your lower back your stomach pressing his aching dick to his stomach, and he eyeballed how deep he would be inside you in a few minutes. The thought made him insatiable, and his fingers worked harder inside you to give you what you deserved. He could feel the space inside of you tightening, and your heartbeat was slamming against his chest. Your fingers laced in his soft hair.

“Sanji I’m--”

“I know, sweetheart, go ahead,” he said, and you listened. His fingers slowed to a calm pace to work you through your high and you sighed as you leaned into his chest. He had hardly given you a chance to catch your breath before nudging his knee between your legs, his thigh guiding you onto your back.

He kissed you and traced his way from your lips to the shell of your ear before, “Can I please fuck you, gorgeous?” You pulled in a sharp breath as you felt him line himself up with your entrance, tracing the tip around your sensitive edges.

“Pleas--” He nipped sharply at your neck as he pushed in.

“Never beg, beautiful. I’ll always give you what you want, understood?” He pushed in further, “Always.” With that word he bottomed out, and the gasp that was ready to leave your lips was breathless and silent as he stilled inside you, making sure you could adjust before he could really treat you. He could feel you relax as your body shaped to him, and he smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before pulling out nearly all the way, only to slam back into you with a deepness that made your fingers dig slightly into his back, you were sure to leave marks but Sanji wouldn’t mind. With the way his eyebrows scrunched at the feeling, you were quickly assured that he preferred it that way, marked up with reminders of how well you were taking him, letting him fill you and treat you the way he has been wanting to from the moment you met.

With the deep stroking rhythm of his pace gradually losing momentum, he brought a hand down to messily pad your clit, bringing you closer to your high in time with his.

“So good, s’good for me, princess, you’re so good,” he slurred, his composure eroding as you tensed around him and your hips involuntarily raising up to meet his, his rhythm growing erratic and quick.

“Go on, pretty, come with me, please,” his voice was higher with desperation, and his neediness pushed you over the edge, spasming around him and pulled him deep inside. His huffing breath was mingled with various calls of your name as he came inside you, continuing to stroke shallowly into you.

After a handful of stillness, he pulled out and laid down next to you, reaching an arm up to softly push some hairs away from your head.

“Well,” he laughed, “I think we definitely worked up our appetite, huh?” You laughed in agreement, still slightly out of breath and flushed. He stood up and put his pants back on, tossing you his shirt.

“Here, and where are your towels? I’ll clean you up before I get dinner started again.”

You buttoned his shirt over yourself, and put your underwear back on as he walked to the kitchen. You laid down, closing your eyes as you waited. In a short time, he was back, carrying the plates into the room and setting them down on your bed.

“Woah,” your eyes widened, “Sanji this looks amazing!” He smiled, watching as you took a bite. “Yeah this might be the best meal I’ve ever had.” He laughed.

“I love cooking for you, beautiful.”

You spoke through a half-full bite, “So when are you moving in?”

AN: i’m back just in time to get on the one piece live action train before it stops being popular and people go back to normal. anyways sanji is a whore can i get an up top ✋ bye bye kitties mwah •.*

[sgiandubh]

A very positive update

In other news from today, thanks to what must have been an overwhelming amount of encouragement messages from all around the world, it is my pleasure to let you know she decided to keep her account public:

The person who she answered to is a good friend to many of us. It is some sort of poetic justice, given the unfair brunt the entire Shipper community has been given over all these years. You go, girl: you are loved and you are a brave, kind soul!

Rowan thinks that people using online sock accounts in order to troll others 'do not know how to behave' and keep hiding behind a 'private account'. Including in real life. Reminds me of the modus operandi and bajillion avatars of the Traditional Troll, *urv for insiders: I think it's time to go, woman. You broke enough havoc, in here. Enough is enough. Find another fresh face. Don't ever write back. Your dirty little game has been recently and very directly rebuked by S. Because it is now clear your Main Source is but a sad little man, a foul-mouthed imposter. No surprise you are now very cautious about posting and keep on pathetically patting yourself on the back.

I am also very glad to read Rowan MacKenzie asked herself the right questions: 'why should I lose the ability to work through social media because a few have mental issues?' Exactly. She made the sensible, daring choice to remain open and that speaks volumes about who she is. It is also my deep hope Police Scotland will continue to 'put into place' whatever it has deemed appropriate for her, in terms of legal action and personal safety. Last but not least, I hope the Two Only Cows get the right retribution for their unspeakable deed.

Rowan earned not only my respect, but also my heart when she posted this:

Those who have been reading me for a while know why.

I wish this brave, strong and gifted soul all the best this imperfect world could ever give her.

PS: vielen, vielen Dank. 😘😘

[mentallyisekaid]

「 ✦ Fatui Harbingers x Signora's Sister! Reader, PART 3.5✦ 」

---

Part 1 Part 2 Part 2.5 Part 3 [Part 3.5]

It's highly recommended to read the parts in order, otherwise few things will make sense!

A/N ~ I ACTUALLY GOT A CHAPTER OUT. Anyway, the next one might take... another while. I've got other stuff going on and life can be kinda chaotic sometimes. Hope you enjoy this one, though :')

Warnings: I'm not sure what to list here; slightly angsty stuff maybe, I also feel like Dottore & Pantalone are a warning of their own

Word count: 2.9k

---

More often than not, family wasn't the manifestation of perfect, unconditional love that you could foolishly rely on. Something... that would never harm you. Because this was, in the end, just what humans were like - so easily blinded by things like greed, anger and envy that they were bound to end up hurting those around them.

You'd learned this yourself a long time ago, and witnessing it again hardly should have swayed you anymore. But what it did was bring up memories; a hurtful echo that even time couldn't drown.

And this mission only served to remind you of what a 'lovely' thing blood relations could be...

"Who are they?" you finally asked, breaking the pointless silence.

Inside the cabin Dottore and Pantalone had led you into, you'd faced a young mother and her two children. Judging by how they looked, the three were undoubtedly victims of unjust fate, yet somehow unfazed even as Harbingers waltzed into their home. A certain dignity in their eyes never faded...

Then again, this was just what Snezhnayans were like.

"Well, these people here are yours to handle, miss 12th. If you please." The Doctor's words were somehow vague, and Pantalone's expression, too, implied that such a roundabout answer was probably not the entire truth.

Since it wasn't clear what anyone expected you to do, you could only test the waters.

With a somewhat polite smile on your lips, you addressed the residents. "Hello, ma'am. Hello, little ones~"

No response. Somehow unsurprising, seeing as you were a Harbinger; one half of Snezhnaya feared you, the other despised you.

And yet, they went and got involved with the Fatui anyway. How stupid!

You glanced at Pantalone. The Banker seemed oddly delighted about the situation, hence, it likely had something to do with Mora. Then again, this man always did seem like he was enjoying himself thoroughly.

As for Dottore, he was the silently measuring these people with his gaze, a sinful smile on his lips. You decided not to decipher what his thoughts on the matter were, or what, pray tell, was this corrupt heretic even doing on a field mission...

Their questionable work ethics were beyond your remit anyway.

"Now then," you sighed, "what are we sensible people dealing with here, and why won't anyone tell me?"

The woman gave a derisive scoff, finally speaking.

"Ha, it looks like Pantalone and company brought along yet another recruit this time - but she's just a little girl!~ How amusing."

"Careful there, I'm definitely old enough... And, by title, a full-fledged Harbinger. So," your smile was innocent yet subtly menacing, "...let's not get too uncivil now; we wouldn't want to upset your children."

Or maybe you don't actually care about them at all?

The young siblings stood firmly by their mother's side, observing you with lilac eyes as cold yet fragile as hoarfrost.

They're so brave. But perhaps brave for the wrong person, much like I once was. In that sense, I probably shouldn't be the one to meddle in whatever it is that's going on here... I want my paycheck, though.

Pantalone and Dottore had watched your interaction with amused curiosity while lingering near the doorway, wanting to see just how their little Harbinger would behave on her first mission.

But one slightly vexed look from you, and they deemed it best to give the situation a little push forward.

As the two men walked forward, stopping on each of your sides, both of them placed a praiseful hand on your shoulder. You hadn't actually done anything yet, but welcomed this with a content smile regardless~ These affectionate gestures hardly went unnoticed by anyone in the room, yet only a fool would have dared to make a comment about it!

"Now then, Dominika," Pantalone addressed the woman with a complacent smile. "It's high time to pay off your debt, don't you think?

A debt?

"Oh, I'm certain she agrees." Dottore commented. "Of course, there are alternative means of paying back. I could offer plenty."

You sighed. Pity those who had to do business with these two!

But this 'Dominika' woman seemed unbothered...

"Then, Lord Regrator," the lady commented, her voice as sharp as ice. "I ask that you show at least some decency. I don't have the whole sum gathered yet, so do wait for a month longer, as I'm certain that someone like you is not so short on Mora that you should have the heart to harass me like this."

Well, at least she had backbone? Though, it seemed to cover up something utterly immoral.

Pantalone entwined his fingers, the numerous silver rings decorating them clinking presumptuously.

"But, my friend, surely you realize that what you owe the Northland Bank is at least three times the amount I'm now here to collect. You've had plenty of time to pay back, too. Moreover, I surmise you have quite a profitable job? After all, when taking such monumental loans from us - 3 million Mora, to be exact - you must have been well prepared to return it. With interest, naturally~"

Ah, so that was it.

Yet, it made you frown. 3 million Mora? Something fishy was going on here!

You chuckled, patting his shoulder. "But, dear Pantalone..."

The log cabin - not even a house - was thoroughly ramshackle, it was freezing cold inside and there was an unpleasant, moldy smell in the air. And those two children looked so malnourished and sickly that it was hard to believe they'd had a proper meal or felt the warmth of a home in years, if ever.

...so then, where had all that money gone?

You gazed at the siblings, a sister and a brother, who stood by their mother's side, clearly not entirely oblivious despite of their young age yet devoted to shield their parent's crimes.

And you of all people had no right to condemn them for that.

The two Harbingers were observing you keenly, shrewd smiles on their faces, almost as if expecting you to do something unfavorable for the Fatui.

I swear, Pierro and his infinite need to test anyone and everyone!

Well, this certainly wasn't the time to question anyone's loyalties. You wanted to disclose this particular matter anyway...

"You don't have the money, then?" you questioned Dominika, cocking an eyebrow.

"No, and you don't even need it, so you damn cretins better leave us alone," she spat with such disrespect and malice that even the Balladeer would have been impressed.

"There's no need for such a violent tone-"

"Violent?" Dominika chuckled darkly. "The Fatui are the only true violence Snezhnaya has ever seen."

"Tut-tut," you scolded her. "The Fatui do NOT wish to harm the people, nor will they do so without a reason. If one of us has harmed you just for the sake of being cruel, I shall see myself that they are punished tenfold..."

"However," you looked at the kids, then at back their mother, "ma'am herself is not so innocent either, it seems?"

She threw you a nasty look. "You dare accuse me-"

"Then, does Dominika suggest the money just vanished into thin air?"

"I-I know! I can tell you," the little boy, no older than six, suddenly exclaimed. For their sake, it was better that at least somebody was smart enough to talk.

Guilt flashed in the mother's eyes before she raised her hand in a hasty attempt to silence her child. But before she could, Pantalone had moved swiftly to grab her arm, an ominous smile on his lips.

"Now, now, Dominika..."

Yet, someone was quick to follow their mother's lead. The girl was surely only eleven or so, but the look in her eyes was fierce as she slapped the back of her brother's head.

"Don't forget our promise, Lazár," she reprimanded the boy. "No tattletaling."

"I'm sorry, Liliya..."

You fixed 'Liliya' a warning look, though it quickly softened - the brave yet somehow lost look in her eyes reminded you a bit of yourself. But she desperately needed a reality check. No child should feel the need to cover up their parents' sins...

The girl didn't flinch as you cupped her cheek with your cold hand. This made you smile a bit.

"Liliya, was it? You don't have to protect your mother, you know. What has she done to deserve such devotion?"

"..."

Sighing, you turned to her brother.

"Does your mommy have... a lot of Mora?"

"Maybe..."

"And she uses that Mora to take care of you and your sister? To buy you food, warm clothes and... toys?"

Lazár tilted his head. "Mama gets us bread from the city."

"And what else does she buy?" Dottore asked with a subtle smirk on his lips, clearly in the know of everything relevant but insistent on letting you figure it out yourself.

The boy frowned as he searched for the right words (or wondered whether he should've kept his mouth shut after all).

"...Golden cans! There's nothing inside, though. You have to pay a lot of Mora to get them... Then the misters come, and take those. Liliya says they smell like foreigners - spices and the ocean. Mama gets big bags of Mora from them. But we're not supposed to know, so we don't really... know," he finally finished.

Canned knowledge? All the way in Snezhnaya?

You glanced at the Doctor, but he only gave you an amused look and shook his head, implying that he wasn't involved in this - not this time, at least.

Something still felt off, though.

"Even so, Dominika... your debt equals millions of Mora. It's clear that loan hasn't been used to take care of your family. I'm not judging you for smuggling foreign goods, per se. But then, on my travels I've also become quite familiar with Sumeru's market, and even canned knowledge isn't that expensive."

You sighed, "Well, forbidden knowledge, perhaps. Do enlighten me?"

Dottore broke his. "Marvellous, it seem Y/N truly is as knowledgeable in this particular matter as the Director claimed. I wonder why that is, hm?"

Another story, another time.

"But for what reason does she smuggle, if not to get money to feed her children?" Pantalone smiled.

Liliya had been quiet since earlier. She shrugged and spoke in an emotionless tone, "Mama has different family in a different land. They're important people. Dangerous people. I don't know. That's probably where the Mora goes, too."

"Ah, is that so?" You smiled darkly. What a disloyal woman.

The girl hesitated. "For them, she... runs all kinds of errands. But that money, too, just goes... poof."

Pantalone nodded. "Yes, Dominika here is quite the magician~"

Dottore clicked his tongue. "I suppose you would know."

"Let's try to behave ourselves..."

But really, the issue at hand was practically clear by now.

Smiling at the kids, you patted their heads and gave them two apples from under your cloak.

"Here, have some snacks as a 'thank you'... Liliya, take your brother to play outside for a bit, okay?"

Liliya just shrugged nonchalantly, taking Lazár's hand and leading him out of the cabin.

It was quiet for a while.

You stared at Dominika with a frown.

Dottore and Pantalone smiled ominously.

"You're a Snezhnayan," you pointed out, "yet your own kin is worth this little to you?"

The woman shrugged. "I do what I know I have the right to. There's nothing unholy about that."

"What about your children?"

"I never asked for them. Their father was a wretch. Hasn't my world, my Snezhnaya, already been cruel enough to me? And only a fool would to go out of their way to selflessly take care of children that life is going to treat unkindly regardless." She smiled darkly. "Plenty of people in this cold land have been on their own since childhood. I know I was, yet here I am, because I learned to survive."

Again, you could only judge a person so far.

You nodded. "I see. I'm not a saint, either. I... was not loved by my parents, either. I'm not sure if I can love like that, either."

"However," you paused for a bit, gazing out of the window at Liliya and Lazár who were busy building a snowman, "as someone who serves the Archon of Love, there is one sin I cannot overlook... a parent forsaking their child."

A wistful smile curved your lips, "For as much as Liliya and Lazár are your children, they are the Tsaritsa's children as well. And she loves all her children fiercely~"

Dominika was silent. Perhaps because she did not care. Perhaps because she did.

Regardless, the time of her retribution was nigh. And, in the end, it was also for a reason much simpler than the 'crime' of being an unloving mother...

She didn't have Pantalone's money, and that was that.

The Banker walked to stand by your side, softly brushing your cheek with the back of his gloved hand. The rings felt cold, yet the touch was somehow... incredibly warm.

"What does Y/N wish to do with those children, then?"

You smiled.

"The House of the Hearth is no heaven... but it's better for Liliya and Lazár there than out on the streets by themselves. And despite what ignorant people say, Arlecchino is not a monster - I'll personally ask her to look after these two."

And I will look out for them as well, so that they will never have to make the same mistakes I did.

Sudden anger flashed in Dominika's lifeless eyes. She took a quick step forward with her hand raised threateningly. "You witch-"

...I dare you.

But Dottore had already pulled you back a bit, a few centimeters behind him.

You smiled.

"I'm quite capable of protecting myself, Doctor~"

"Quite, but it's her I was shielding. That's a scary gaze you have there, Y/N, and as much as I'd enjoy observing just how violent you can be, Pierro specifically asked us to fetch this woman with all her limbs still attached."

You pouted. " I wasn't going to-" Not too much, at least!

Zandik chuckled, patting your head. "Yes, yes, I believe you~"

The woman didn't speak another word nor struggle when a couple of Fatui agents came in and restrained her - who knows if this was proof of the dignity of a Snezhnayan, or the lack thereof.

Dottore injected her with something that dimmed the last flicker of a flame still glowing in those dull eyes.

You frowned at this.

"Just a mild sedative, don't worry," said the Doctor and you dared not question it further - though you probably should have...

---

After Dominika was gone, and Liliya and Lazár had been sent on their way to the House of the Hearth, Snezhnaya's sun had reached its zenith.

You stood outside in the snow, a hand shielding your eyes from the cold, pale yellow rays.

Pantalone had since remained inside the cabin with his subordinates, likely discussing the distraint of the property - not that it was worth much anything.

Celestia knows where Dottore had gone...

A hollow ache was left in your chest.

Was it resentment, melancholy, indifference, all of the above, or perhaps something else that you just couldn't admit to feeling - regardless, it was there.

But who would you have shed a tear for? It would've just frozen in this frigid weather anyway.

"Shall we head back, dear?" Pantalone's soft voice came from next to you. Dottore had disappeared and then appeared again, now standing on your other side, humming to himself while resting a hand on your shoulder.

Back...

"I think I'll stay behind for a bit. I've got an errand to run nearby." Your voice was devoid of any emotion, faltering ever so slightly.

It wasn't a lie, but at most, a half-truth. You really just wanted some time to clear your head - just a little more to pull yourself together, so that your Harbingers wouldn't discover too big of a crack in your defences.

Being vulnerable was quite scary.

"No, no, that won't do at all." Pantalone looked down at you sternly yet gently. "I couldn't possibly agree to leave our little Y/N here in such a state."

"I'm fine."

"Y/N is very strong, after all."

He leaned closed, his breath fanning across your cheek.

"But I do find there is a certain irresistible charm about strong people who think they need to be tough all the time. It makes their broken parts appear all the more beautiful~"

You frowned. "Um... I-I see. Is that so, huh..."

Dottore sighed, wrapping his outer cloak around yours.

"In any case, Pierro would be quite displeased if we were to tell him that we diligently finished the job, but lost our precious little Harbinger somewhere in Snezhnaya..."

His comment actually made you chuckle a bit, along with the fact that this impossible duo seemed more than ready to (gently) drag you back to the Headquarters if you really tried to stay.

"Heh~"

The Doctor suddenly leaned closer, lifting his mask to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. Uncharacteristic, and a bit weird? Well, not really, since it appeared this really was one of his "gentler" segments. What instead stole your attention were those strikingly red eyes...

It was the first time you'd seen his face fully uncovered.

You didn't know how to feel about that. You didn't know how too feel about a lot things these days.

And, maybe... that was okay.

"Shall we go home, then?" The Doctor held your hand.

"Little Harbinger?~" Pantalone also held your hand.

You smiled. 'Home' was perhaps not the right term. Not yet, at least. But in that moment, it didn't really matter. Sometimes just trusting someone, even if not completely, was enough.

And so...

"Mm, let's go home~"

[trinitvii-r]

VP Squared - First Class Impressions

prologue | part i

(ffvii x reader

Genesis should’ve known anyone who got on well with Rufus Shinra would be a load of trouble. Sephiroth thinks it’s a funny turn of events that his friend is the one experiencing stress, rather than causing it.

Angeal’s just happy to be there, really.)

“Dibs,” is the first thing out of Genesis’ mouth as he walks into the conference room.

You know he was referring to you, but you don’t even spare him a glance before returning to your conversation with Rufus… to make it clear to everyone in the room that your VP is and will remain your main priority.

Behind the silly little red-coat-wearing-in-the-middle-of-damn-July man, Angeal looks rightfully embarrassed and is trying to drag the man away. Sephiroth chooses to ignore them both, and makes for his usual seat.

Undeterred, Genesis walks closer to you and stretches out his arm, pointer finger raised straight at you. “Dibs,” he repeats.

You and Rufus share a look for no longer than a second, and your VP immediately understands. He has an amused look on his face as he says, “Go ahead.”

You no longer mask the annoyance you feel as you spit out the words, “Piss off.”

Genesis squeaks out, “I— beg your pardon?!”

You turn away from him, and focus your attention to Rufus once more.

The blonde flicks you on the nose, and laughs at the pinched expression you make. “I would’ve thought you’d say the more colorful word.” Translation: I was hoping you’d say the more colorful word.

You fiddle with your cup of coffee, making a point to keep Genesis hanging, knowing damn well he’s still hovering. “I thought it may offend his delicate sensibilities.” Translation: You know what I mean.

Rufus snorts. As you drink your coffee, Rufus looks up at Genesis, and explains, “They just called you a little bitch.”

You may not have SOLDIER senses, but you swear you hear Sephiroth choke on his spit.

With a mild tone, you reprimand Rufus. “I said I think he’s a wuss.”

“Creative license.”

In unison, the two of you couldn’t resist to snicker. A sight that oddly further aggravates Genesis.

The Commander bites, “That’s it! Newbie, I’m gonna have a lot of fun breaking you in.”

Excuse me?

As you rake your eyes over Genesis’s form, you hear a voice somewhere else in the room ask, “Should I call Human Resources?”

Genesis looks half-murderous, and half-flirtatious as he smirks down at you.

You give him a cheshire grin and say, “Do your worst, Carrot-top.”

Sephiroth absolutely loses it.

Or at least by Sephiroth standards. The man is chuckling, and you could see his shoulders shake as he tries to rein in his mirth.

You pop him a finger gun à la Reno, and cheekily say, “Excited to work with you, General.”

Both Genesis and Angeal drop their mouths open in shock when Sephiroth gives a lazy mock salute, and says, “The feeling is mutual, rookie.”

You turn to Angeal, and give him a wink. “Same goes for you, Commander Hewley.”

A flustered Angeal murmurs, “Thanks. I’ll do my best.”

Genesis should have known you’d have no nice sentiments to spare for him. And he’s proven right when all he gets is a lousy, “You can drop dead for all I care, Red.”

Sephiroth excuses himself, and you could vaguely hear a deep laughter resounding in the hallway.

This is the scene President Shinra walks into, and he looks completely defeated. A triumphant grin forms on Rufus’ face.

All your posturing from earlier morning seems to have faded away, and now Genesis finds himself the sole subject of your attention. He gulps as you stare up at him with wide eyes, an almost enamored expression just for him… or at least his fireballs.

“That was so sick.”

Turning his nose up at you, and in a pathetic effort to hide the red dusting his cheeks, he answers, “What a crude way to address my talent.”

He’s surprised when you don’t respond with some quip. Instead, you whine, “C’mon, man. I’ve never even said that about Rufus with his guns.”

Filing away that tidbit about the Shinra brat, Genesis couldn’t help the giddiness he feels at your words. Not the words he would have preferred, but the sentiment certainly was there. Close enough. If throwing fireballs at dummies was what earned him your respect and admiration, then that’s what he’d do.

A part of him is terrified at his outright sense of urgency to impress you. He brushes the thought away when you grab onto his coat sleeve, and beg, “Please teach me, dude.”

Again, not his choice of words, but for now, dude will have to do.

“Rhapsodos, move! You’re blocking the view.”

The mood is instantly killed by the Shinra brat.

It starts off like this.

News gets passed around that you were assigned the Rufus babysitting gig.

Hand in hand with that, news gets passed around that you somehow made it into the SOLDIER program.

Along with that, the fact you threatened Heidegger with a knife. (A velocity edit of the security feed of the moment is the top retweeted and liked tweet of the day. A bubbly filter AMV of Rufus lowering your knife for you is second.)

It only gets weirder from there.

Sephiroth’s, Angeal’s, and Genesis’s fanclubs have wildly varying takes on what happened in the meeting. Ranging from funny — You apparently had some top secret Turks-esque information that Genesis’ beautiful auburn hair was actually dyed from a bright orange that he had always been self-conscious of, and that you had called him by a mean nickname (Carrot-top) that kids in his village used to bully him with, and ended with Genesis bursting into tears. — to oddly conspiratorial — You were investigating reactors with the Turks when you fell into a vat of pure mako, and that President Shinra had decided to officially make you SOLDIER as a coverup for the fuck-up. You apparently became so powerful that you were named Sephiroth’s Lieutenant General, and that had made Genesis cry.

Genesis being reduced to tears seems to be the thread holding all these rumors together.

By lunchtime, everyone and their mother had their own theories on The Situation.

Which was why Cadet Cloud Strife had to do a double take when he saw you following after Genesis Rhapsodos, followed by Rufus Shinra following after you, and Sephiroth following after Rufus Shinra.

What.

Cloud nearly dropped his soup in surprise.

As you passed, he could barely make out the words, “again” and “just one more.”

And if Cloud knew anything about the Shinra rumor mill, it’s that they would take those words and lewdly misinterpret them. He could already hear Janice from Accounting typing loudly on her phone. Great. He wouldn’t need to open his inbox to know he’d see yet another wildly smutty Genesis fan fiction disguised as a newsletter.

Screw Zack for signing him up for those fanclubs.

Even before you leave the canteen, the winning theory is that you and Genesis enter into a whirlwind romance burning hot like the fireballs he flings onto unsuspecting targets, but alas you are a free spirit who refuses to be tied down. This theory also ends with Genesis in tears.

Cloud notes with a hint of amusement that the sight of you stacking up your and Rufus’s plates and neatly disposing of the trash is the most babysitter-like thing you’ve done all day. You even clean up for Sephiroth who reacts with a slack jaw and the most bewildered expression, and Genesis who stares at you as though you’ve just told him the secrets of the universe. The redhead could almost be described as swooning when he thanks you profusely.

You simply look at the man as if he had grown two heads. After a beat, you smirk. “Alright, hot stuff. Take it easy for the rest of the day, yeah?” You nod subtly at Rufus, who takes it as his cue to stand up, and says his farewells to the other two.

As the two of you make your way out the canteen, this bit of conversation once again throws everyone into a frenzy:

“Still think he’s a wuss?”

“Yeah, but not when he’s swinging that thing around.”

That thing in question was fireballs, but the rest of Shinra didn’t know that.

Definitely not it.

Anything but that.

When Lazard the Bastard told you you’d have to pay your dues as the newest SOLDIER, you did not expect it to be that.

“Well, what did you expect? The rest of them were cadets first. I can’t just hand everything to you.”

You tried the Rufus excuse, but Lazard brushes off your concerns. “I can assign a First on him for a couple hours.”

Like he heard you, Rufus looks up from his phone, and gives you a nod and a smile.

Gods. Right when you wanted Rufus to be a brat and demand his way, suddenly now he’s all goody.

With a scowl, you tell Lazard, “Let’s get this over with.”

Blood everywhere.

Gross.

Oh, and Angeal’s here too.

Nice.

“What’s up?”

Angeal had to admit. For someone who’s elbows deep into cleaning bloody blades, you sure had a draw to you as you hum some kind of melody. He wordlessly sits next to you, and wipes down the first weapon he could get his hands on.

A half hour later, he gets the feeling that you’ve got quite the mouth on you. Though, he’s seen you behave more casually with the other Turks plenty of times, and sometimes with Rufus himself, it’s a bit jarring to be on the receiving end of it.

“—Not gonna lie — but don’t you dare tell anyone else — if Rufus didn’t have those photos on him, and he had to get an actual SOLDIER babysitter, I would have preferred you.”

‘Wait. What.’ Clearly, Angeal was a bit distracted by how efficiently you can clean blood that he had neglected to hear some damning information on how you may have gotten this new gig. Oh well. He can try chatting with you another time. Besides, your new position would only make you more accessible to him.

Heaving a sigh, and resting your bloody knuckles on your hips, you give Angeal a grin. “Wanna hide these rags under Genesis’ bed?”

As if you even need to ask.

When Rufus drags you by the back of your collar like a cat out of Genesis’ private quarters, he can already tell this scene is only going to cause more chaos.

A wide grin fights its way to his face.

He had made the right call for his personal SOLDIER.

[himimosa]

attractive things bsd men do pt. III

you know there are things men do without being aware that makes them look hot (fixing watch, undoing tie to relax) I will try to add some more~

jouno, tecchou

Jouno Saigiku: smirking when he catches you glance

You were walking in a hurry to arrive at the meeting room on time. Unfortunately, you didn't have a stable 9-5 job where the tasks and meetings were clear... If you were working for the government's military department, and especially with the Hunting Dogs department, that basically meant that you had no life... You didn't have regularity with your work hours, you could work on a file even if it was pasts midnight, or leave your house for another one because you had an urgent phone call at 4 am...

It was also not very possible to have a relationship with all these messy schedules, top secret files of government, and very little explanation about your life... But well, any of these were not your problem with your boyfriend, since he was a member of the Hunting Dogs too...

When you arrived in the meeting room, you meant to apologize for being late, but when you saw the scenery, you changed your mind quickly. Teruko was having a breakdown because her last victim was so "weak" that he confessed everything the moment he saw the infamous vice-captain of the Hunting Dogs... She was devastated because she wanted to make him vomit blood and cry!... Fukuchi was (kinda) trying to comfort her but he was no better, you could tell from the shake of his hands that this man was still high and woozy. Tecchou was eating some mixture of food you didn't even wanna question what it was and your poor boyfriend was trying to stop him. When you greeted them, Jouno left Tetchou alone quickly and hugged you

"Babe... I am about to lose it... No one has written these in the job description... And they gave me all these idiots without an instructions guide..."

You chuckled lightly "It wasn't also written that you were going to be my boyfriend... Are you regret that too, Sai?" Jouno opposed "Y/N, you know I didn't mean that-"

When the meeting began, you all started to listen Fukuchi and the other more experienced members. You were only making the explanations when a question is directed to you or the topic comes to your files...

You were mostly staying focused on whoever was talking to take notes. But when the meeting started to get out of the topic (as usual chaotic meetings), you couldn't help but stare at your boyfriend from your eye corner. He seemed focused, with his arms crossed and brows frowned. He made some strict yet sensible comments on how to approach the case on the desk. He was so serious, and you love that about him. He wasn't someone who takes his job or injustice lightly.

When your eyes lingered a little longer than usual, he suddenly smirked lightly with one corner of his mouth. You averted your gaze with surprise. Did he notice you? You were not underestimating Jouno but thinking of his disability, it felt too surreal for a second. You thought it might be a coincidence so you wanted to check again. With your second attempt, he smirked again, this time wider. Now you had to cover your mouth with one hand because you felt your blood rushing to your cheeks.

After the meeting ended and everyone left, you couldn't help but ask: "How?.."

Jouno answered with another smirk but softer this time: "I don't need to see to know you are watching... The sounds of your heartbeats and breath tell me enough darling..."

Suehiro Tetchou: stretching and exercising

You looked at the "thing" on the kitchen stall... You blinked a few times. It smelled rice, egg, caramel, and spice at the same time(?) and some... vegetables you hoped so?... For the last ingredient, you could make sure by tasting of course, but getting food poisoning was not on your today's-to-do list...

"I cooked it for you"

You turned your head to your boyfriend's innocent facial expression. The worst part was you knew he was genuine. This man woke up early to make you a surprise, and looking around the mess of the kitchen, you could really say that he tried...

You sighed and slowly put your hands on his puffed cheeks. Tetchou was sulking, you couldn't help but give him a small peck, he was so adorable right now...

"Honey, I love you and appreciate your work and all, but please step out of the kitchen.."

He only nodded. Which made you feel bad, and you tried to offer something else: "What about you go and make your morning stretch while I make us some coffee? Afterward, we can try together to cook something more... beginner-friendly for dinner?"

He nodded but was more eager this time. He took off his "It's not burnt, it's just crispy" apron, this was a gift from Jouno. He meant to give it as a roast, but Tetchou really liked it in the end. He kinda accepted it as an acknowledgment of his big interest in the kitchen and cooking.

When Tetchou left the kitchen for exercise, you couldn't help but smile behind him. Yeah, the kitchen was a mess, but you could clean it up with him later. Even though he was not skillful in this, he was getting better... The "thing" you were going to eliminate later was so much better than his first attempts at cooking (You were still trembling with the memory of frog eggs... No you don't even wanna remember that one now)

You started to make two cups of coffee, Tetchou's taste habits were getting better too... He used to drink his coffee with soy sauce, just the thought was able to make you gag. But now you knew his little obsessions, so you convinced him to add brown sugar syrup.

When you were done, you went to the room where Tetchou was. He was stretching his back at the moment, shirtless as usual. All his back muscles stretching slowly yet clearly.

You could see that Tetchou was so focused so you didn't want to disturb him. You slowly put the cups on a shelf, only to lean on the door while crossing your arms. It was something else to watch him like this. You knew your boyfriend was not always as sweet and cute as he is with you, he was a soldier. A specialized soldier to be exact, to eliminate all threats to the government and innocent people. He was taking his job very seriously, and as the one having the strongest ability in terms of physical prowess, he was caring about his training and exercises too...

When he was about to do push-ups, he saw you standing at the door, watching him intently. You expected a sarcastic remark for a second, instead, he asked "Can you stand or sit on my back? I feel too light-weighted.."

You hesitated for a second "Are you sure? Wouldn't you hurt your back or something?.."

"Don't worry. Jouno stands with his boots on my back all the time, I don't think you could be worse than him..."

ending notes:

this was the last part of "attractive things they do" series. i like hunting dogs a lot (except fukuchi, that pig can go ahead and die in a pit), so i want to write more for them ♡

the fact that amuse me is, pt 2 almost caught up to pt 1, even though i released it later. is it about characters? i am not sure but i want to think of it like that :D

also next week, i will post a chuuya drabble i guess :3

[iceman-kazansky]

Two Halves of a Heartbeat, Beating as One

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Merry Christmas @currahee! I'm your secret Santa!

Request: a character who assumes they won't get a gift for Christmas, only to be pleasantly surprised.

Pairings: Ronald Speirs x f!reader

Warnings: Death, depression, probably swearing, kissing

A/n: Hey! I've never seen your account prior to this, so I'm glad to have you as my designated Secret Santa gift receiver!! I hope this is tailored to your liking, and I hope you like this! Merry Christmas and happy new year! :)

Taglist: @inglourious-imagines || (If you'd like to join my taglist; submit a form here!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥

The days slowly melted past one by one, very scarce new events occurring. Every day was a repeat of the one before. Countless shelling from the artillery located just across the clearing. The never ending supply of dead soldiers soaring as morale stooped to an all time low.

Everyone was on the verge of their breaking point.

Through the harshness of Sobel in Toccoa, all the way to Holland, the 506th had been through so much death and destruction yet had remained steadfast throughout it all.

But now, in the company's arguably darkest time, the regiment became ever-fragile. The exhausted soldiers couldn't handle any more of this.

False promises of the war ending before Christmas had become what kept the 506th going, but as the day ticked closer and closer that hope began to dwindle.

Everyone, no matter the transparency each individual experienced as the thought dawned on them, knew they weren't going home for the holiday. They never were.

Dragging yourself from those wretched thoughts, you exhale softly, your breath creating a thick fog that rises and dissipates nearly as fast as it first appeared in the cold afternoon air. Even now, where all you could focus on was the numbness of your fingers, the air held a certain briskness to it that made your throat and nostrils burn when you inhaled.

‘Now is not the time for such dark thoughts’ you think to yourself, shaking your head as if to knock some sense into yourself.

Those thoughts, the one that let reality set in a little too far, were killers. Even just a mere drop in a soldier's ability to keep strong mentally on the frontlines ultimately affected their physical well-being aswell. In a time as dire as war, a drop in strength translated directly to a meaningless death.

In the distance, you could hear the crunching of feet on snow growing increasingly closer.

“Sergeant,” The voice is firm, yet recognizable. You glance up at the mysterious figure who approaches, once again ripped from the storm of endless thoughts brewing within your very mind.

Ronald Speirs.

You instantly recognize Dog companies CO. An intimidating man surrounded by rumors he'd never bothered to confirm nor deny. Yet, a handsome man. His face is one of chiseled beauty, like a Greek god. Something you'd been sure to notice over your countless interactions. Since you'd known him, Speirs had treated you equally despite being the only female in the 506th. Something you admired.

Ever since your first weeks at Toccoa, you’d taken a special interest in Speirs, and naturally you’d gotten a lot closer.

Speirs isn't one to dawdle, so he gets right to the point, “Sergeant, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Go ahead,” you reply through chattering teeth, sore from clenching them closed so often.

"What are your plans for Christmas this year, if we go back to the states?"

Even in the cold, you can feel your cheeks flushing red. He wants to know what you're christmas plans are?

Not answering immediately, letting the words sink in as you formulate a response, “You don't seriously believe that?" You chuckle dryly at last, "I thought of all people you'd be the most sensible."

"No, I don't," he replies after a moment of silence, "but everyone at least has some plans this holiday. A hope. I wanted to know what yours was." You could've sworn you'd seen him shift his gaze away momentarily, but his face was shadowed by his bulky helmet, obscuring your vision of his beautiful face.

"That everyone wouldn't be me, then," you avert your attention momentarily to his lips, but shake your head in disgust at yourself, what were you looking at? He was your superior! "What about you, captain? Any plans yourself?"

"I was going to visit family if we went back. But, seeing as that isn't happening anytime soon, I thought I'd settle on a gift for someone here." He responds.

“Who would that lucky person be?” You ask, curious who the CO might be referring to. You think back to the town of Bastogne, the town a few klicks away, and all the people for him to choose from.

“I'm still not sure.” he shrugs, standing abruptly and moving away silently, leaving you puzzled and alone.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Christmas day had arrived grimly, the promise of being home by this day long forgotten and farfetched.

The Germans on the other side of the clearing were fortunately nice enough to halt the bombing for the day, leaving the front lines oddly quiet for the first time in weeks.

Despite this, morale wasn't very high. Nobody in the 506th wanted to be in the frozen-hell they were right then.

Standing and unable to withstand the boredom of your foxhole any longer you left to relieve yourself momentarily.

Upon standing, your limbs ached, stiff and sore from the cramped position you'd stayed in for multiple hours, and your feet numb while you stumbled the first few steps. You remembered Doc Roe's countless warnings to the 506th about trench foot. Something you wanted to be certain you wouldn't catch. Perhaps you should invest more time in moving about.

It didn't take long to finish your business, and you figured you ought to head back to the safety of your foxhole soon. Afterall, you never knew when the next shelling would occur, the Germans were unpredictable. You wouldn't doubt they'd go beyond cruelty and bomb the 506th on a day like today. And that was something you absolutely didn't want to be out of your foxhole for. You'd seen the destruction left in their wake countless times.

Your feet crunching loudly in the fresh snow was all you could think of as you retraced your steps back to the front lines. Along the way you passed a few E company members, smiling a little at them and wishing them a short ‘Merry Christmas’ as you trudged past.

Ahead, your empty foxhole beckoned and as you drew near your excitement at the small warmth it provided grew rapidly. You prepare to jump in, but pause at the sight of a small cardboard box nestled at the bottom. The peanut-coloured box appeared as vibrant as blood in the dull white and gray surroundings.

Jumping into your hole, you're careful not to crush the delicate box while you move into a sitting position, pulling it into your lap.

Curiosity consumes you as you open it carefully, revealing a small silver object, a thin wool blanket and a pristine white letter.,

Taking the necklace out you raise it to your face for examination. The pendant was long, and had a natural shimmering silver allure to it. At one end, a small, smooth heart was suspended by the lengthy yet elegant chain. It was beautiful. You gasped as you moved it around in your palm, a large smile pulling at your lips.

Carefully, you fastened the necklace around your neck, looking down to admire it settled against your collarbone once more. Not wasting any more time, you moved onto the next object. An army-issued blanket. Something the company should've been guaranteed before it came to Bastogne, but was never supplied. You took it out, taking care not to lose the letter you had yet to open. How did your mystery sender manage to get their hands on this? However they did it must've been tough, they were in demand everywhere. The material was wool, and you could almost imagine the warmth it provided.

After a short examination of the blanket you were eager to move to the last object, a letter. Grabbing the object and letting your fingers run over the grainy surface momentarily before pulling open the seal to reveal the neatly-folded contents.

Unfolding the letter you're stunned at the lack of words, but regardless begin reading;

Dear Sergeant,

I hope you enjoy these gifts. Merry Christmas.

Signed, Ronald C. Speirs.

Speirs got you these? Hardly containing your smile, you close the letter once more, slipping it into your pocket and getting out of your foxhole, leaving the blanket and box behind.

It took every ounce of strength you had to not run as fast as you could to his assigned tent, instead maintaining a brisk walk. However, something you couldn’t contain was the dopey smile that tugged itself onto your face as you moved, your heart pounding in your chest and your face flushed a bright scarlet.

As you drew near, your pace quickened ever so slightly, your mind urging you to move faster than your legs would allow. You were itching at the prospect of seeing him. Finally reaching the sepia coloured tent, it’s walls faded and worn from the harsh uses it had endured throughout the war, you say “Permission to enter, sir?” from the other side of the tent wall.

His husky voice answers from within the tent, allowing you entry immediately after your request. Without further ado, you step in, blinking to readjust your eyes. In the shadowed room, you make eye contact with Speirs. “I wanted to thank you for the gifts, sir.” You say, not quite sure how to properly thank him.

“Please, just call me Ron,” he corrects, smiling softly at you. A sight so beautiful and rare you can't help but stare in awe. He stands when you enter, maneuvering out from behind his desk.

“Then call me Y/n,” you counter, mirroring his smile.

After a moments pause where nothing is said, you resume, “Ron, do you mind me asking why?” You say hesitantly, unfamiliar with the use of his true name, seeming like all formalities were tossed aside, “Why me?”

He looked at you with an odd unnamed emotion, yet so familiar. It seems like a millenia passes before he replies, “I have admired you since we've met, Y/n.” He pauses to allow the words to sink in, watching your expression closely, “Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I've always been set on you. You drive me crazy. When you step into a room, you're all I can look at. Everything else is irrelevant. When you talk, your voice echoes in my ears all day like a mothers lullaby.

“I've never wanted another woman so badly as i've wanted you before. I didn't care for the dames of Eindhoven like most men. I wanted you. And only you. I've come to the realization I love you, and I couldn't wait another day for you to carry on, not knowing.” he stops to drink in your features before he allows himself to continue, “It's alright if you don't feel the same. I know how terrible the timing is. I can't believe I allowed myself to become so vulnerable in a state of war.”

Without missing a beat you reply, “I feel the same.”

Truthfully, you can hardly believe your ears. It's like a dream come true. You'd loved Ron since he'd done that daring act with Dog Company and the batteries, and you swear you could've felt your own heart stop when he leaped out of that trench and ran, exposed, into the battery, guns blazing. You'd heard the rumors about him too, but they didn't scare you. In fact, they almost drew you in closer, with hopes of unravelling them yourself.

Without even noticing it, you and Ron had begun moving closer to each other, pulled by some other-worldly gravitational force. Drawn to each other like a moth to flame.

When he was within reach, he lifted up his hand, cupping your cheek while the gap grew smaller yet, your faces hovering inches from each other, “Can I kiss you?” he asks, eyes flitting down to your lips only to return once more to your eyes.

You couldn't speak, only administering a nod before he closed the gap.

His lips tasted of lucky strikes, something you wouldn't have thought to expect at first, and they pressed against yours passionately, releasing his inner tension. Your lips moved against his in a synchronized dance, two lovers moving against each other like twin moons in the sky, orbiting the same center. Like two halves of a heartbeat, beating as one.

Reluctantly, he pulled away breathless, resting his forehead against yours.

“I've never wanted more than to kiss you,” he sighs, “I love you.”

“I love you more, Ronnie,” You whisper back

[clangenrising]

Month 10 - Leafbare

Goldenstar climbed the Stoneperch, claws scrabbling against the layer of ice and frost that had settled over it after dark. As much as she wanted to do anything else right now, the Clan needed a new deputy and she had to appoint them before moonhigh. She had hoped for more time before this duty fell on her. 

She’d taken the evening to think over the choice, to make sure she was making the right decision, but she had almost immediately known who she needed to support her. Only one cat in the clan had the sense to counter balance her impulsivity and the respect of their Clanmates. Only one cat could be her new deputy. 

She turned to face the camp before her. Almost everyone had already gathered around Nightfrost’s body. Songdust had joined Yarrowshade in grooming her fur. There were no flowers this time of year but Ospreymask had harvested a few pine branches to adorn her with. The smell of the needles was almost refreshing. 

Goldenstar opened her mouth to start but her voice died in her throat. She cleared it, shifted her position, and tried again. “I say these words before StarClan, so the spirits of our warrior ancestors may hear and approve of my choice. Russetfrond will be RisingClan’s new deputy.” 

Russetfrond met her gaze and gave a slow blink and a nod. She returned it and leapt down from the Stoneperch. She couldn’t bear to be above her Clanmates any longer. She settled near her den and closed her eyes. She wanted to go be with Yarrowshade but he had shaken her off earlier, when she had first heard the news. She could tell he didn’t want anyone to see him grieving and she understood. 

Nearby movement rustled her whiskers. She opened her eyes as Scorch sat down beside her and swept her tail over her paws. Goldenstar felt her stomach clench as she observed the gentleness of Scorch’s beautiful blue eyes. Desire and grief intertwined - what a complicated mix of emotions that was.

“That was understated,” Scorch murmured, “as far as ceremonies go.” 

“It always takes place during a funeral,” she whispered back. “It kind of has to be. Our code demands we name a new deputy before moonhigh to make sure the Clan is never caught by surprise and left without a clear successor for leadership.” 

“I see,” she said. 

Goldenstar watched Scorch’s eyes find Russetfrond in the crowd and she felt the sudden need to say, “I hope you know that making Russetfrond my deputy doesn’t mean that I endorse the way he speaks about you. I just-” 

“No, I understand,” Scorch shook her head. “He’s the only sensible choice.” 

Goldenstar relaxed. “Oh, good. The last thing I want is for you to feel alienated.” 

“Mm,” Scorch hummed and Goldenstar tensed again. What did that mean? Scorch had such a habit of keeping her thoughts carefully guarded. Goldenstar studied her expression but found no answers. 

After a moment’s hesitation, she leaned close to mumble in Scorch’s ear. “Thanks,” she said, and suddenly her heart was thumping against her ribs, “for sitting with me. The company makes it easier.” 

Scorch tilted her head very slightly and met Goldenstar’s gaze with hers. To Goldenstar, it felt like that moment lasted for ages. Her breath hitched in her chest as some kind of desire threatened to consume her. Ever since she had realized the nature of her feelings for Scorch, they had only intensified and they were so strong in this moment that she didn’t know what to do. What did she even want aside from some nebulous concept of Scorch? She didn’t know. 

“Of course,” Scorch said eventually, the barest of smiles on her lips. “I’m sure she was a good friend.” 

“Yeah,” Goldenstar said, looking down. She awkwardly pulled back from Scorch’s presence, unsure why she had moved so close in the first place. Scorch said nothing and so neither did she and they sat in silence instead. 

Eventually, Sagetooth came out of the healers’ den and said, “Alright. If you stay out any longer you’ll all catch frostbite yourselves. Time to go to bed.” 

Songdust stood but Yarrowshade didn’t budge. 

“We need to bury her now,” Songdust said softly. Yarrowshade shook his head. 

“Just a little longer,” he said, voice raw. 

Goldenstar sighed and stood, glancing back at Scorch. She opened her mouth to explain but didn’t know what to say. Scorch shook her head. Again, she understood, and Goldenstar was so grateful. Still, she sensed disappointment. She would have to examine that later. She moved over to Yarrowshade’s side and gave him a gentle lick over the head.

“Come on, bud,” she said. “We’ve got to go.” Yarrowshade shut his eyes and let out a heavy breath through his nose, one heavy laden with sorrow. Without a word, he stood and pressed against her side. 

“Why don’t you stay the night with me?” she offered. He nodded and she led him back across the camp towards her den. As they passed, Scorch looked them over, looking restrained. Goldenstar almost invited her to join them, but then she remembered that she and Yarrowshade weren’t speaking to each other for some reason. 

She paused, wondering if it would be worth it to ask. Yarrowshade looked up and he and Scorch met eyes. Almost immediately, Yarrowshade dropped his head, looking anywhere but at Scorch. Goldenstar tried to search Scorch’s expression but the moment Scorch realized, she turned away and left for the warriors’ den. Goldenstar sighed and nudged Yarrowshade forward. 

When they reached the nest, Yarrowshade toppled into it on his side, sniffling. Goldenstar laid down across from him, tangling his paws with hers. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know you probably don’t want to hear that, but I am.”

“It's okay,” he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning forward. Instinctively, she bowed her head to bump it against his. 

“If I can do anything to help,” she said, “just let me know.” 

He sniffled again and when he spoke, his voice was pitched with grief. “Thanks, Goldie. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

“I’ll always be here for you, Yare,” she said, pushing against his forehead with extra pressure. He looped his paws around the back of her neck and huffed sadly. 

“Scorch hates me,” he lamented. 

“She doesn’t hate you,” Goldenstar said instinctively.

“Yes she does,” he whined, “and I have no idea why! She just stopped talking to me.” 

“When?” Goldenstar asked. “Maybe I can figure out what happened.” 

Yarrowshade huffed again and twisted onto his back to look at the ceiling. “Uh, it was when Aldertail showed up. She wanted me to send her away and when I didn’t she stormed off instead of explaining why I should. Then we didn’t get to talk until the next day and when I tried to check in with her she shut down all of my questions and got upset when…” he paused, and took a slow, shaky breath, “When Nightfrost asked me to go hunting. And it’s just gotten worse since then and I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!” 

Goldenstar frowned sympathetically. “Okay. Yeah, I think I understand what’s going on.” 

“Really?” he pouted, turning back to look at her. “How?!” 

She laughed a little bit, immediately feeling guilty. “Scorch is… very afraid,” she said. “She’s afraid of being found by Razor and she’s afraid that she isn’t important to you. Refusing to send Aldertail away told her that you didn’t care about her safety, even if that’s not what you meant.” 

Yarrowshade grit his teeth in frustration. “What was I supposed to do? Turn her away?” 

“No,” Goldenstar said. “You did the right thing. Scorch is being unreasonable and I think she knows that.” She hoped she did at least. “Just… give her time. And take some time for yourself.” She nuzzled into him and felt sleep starting to drag her down. She sighed tiredly and pulled him close. He sniffled and started to cry again and she just squeezed him tighter. It was going to be a long night but she was going to be there for him.

UPDATES: - Russetfrond is appointed the new deputy

[barschter000]

(this is my main blog I am @euporie-art)

hi I am sorry 2 bother you but whenever you reblog my art you always put very nice tags on it and it makes me quite happy

I am thinking. about vampire benbaro. do you have any thoughts on them.

Hello!!!!! You're no bother at all, I'm actually very happy to hear from you again!! :D

I'm glad my silly reblog tag ramblings can make you happy! :)

I actually (and unfortunately) don't have that many thoughts on them (edit from the future: yeah sure buddy) because I don't think about Vampire AUs very often even though it's a classic and it works great with them. Generally, I absolutely agree that Albert should be the vampire because that is 100% the funnier option. Otherwise, my thoughts overlap with this post and are as follows:

Albert has a tapetum lucidum on his eyes, the thing animals with improved night vision have that makes their eyes glow when hit by light. I'm always a big fan of Albert being a little weird and freaky.

Since bats eat fruit and insects too and Albert is pretty constantly low on food (see linked post), he has eaten bugs. He regrets it sometimes but they are a good source for protein.

For funsies, I like to imagine him being able to walk up walls Hotel Transylvania-style because he is definitely the type of guy to start pacing while thinking and so he ends up on the ceiling.

I am consultung old Discord messages about this for this answer and past me said that apparently bats are colorblind (though it might not be all of them) and so Albert is too!

Absolute favorite of mine: BATS CAN PURR!! ALBERT CAN PURR!!!

Here are some more or less useful biting places: The most useful and sensible one is of course the vein in the crook of Barok's arm which isn't very romantic but practical. The jugular veins in the throat are of course a classic among vampire enthusiasts but because there is so much blood flowing through it, it would definitely require medical attention afterwards. But one can alter reality in fiction, as a treat. Also there is the femoral artery that runs through the thigh and aside from it being hard to access (especially since Barok's legs are so muscular), I think Barok would die and not only from bloodloss. Other than that, the saliva of vampire bats contains anticoagulants that prevent blood from clotting, so that's in Albert's saliva too.

Albert can communicate with the bats in Barok's office. (In my world, Barok named them all after female characters from operas because he doesn't know which bat is male or female but he noticed they were reproducing, so he just gave them female names. Perhaps Albert can clear up the mystery.)

Since Albert doesn't really have blood unless he feeds, he doesn't really have body heat but when he's fed, he is also able to blush and I think seeing your boy best friend blushing with your own blood inside his cheeks would also kill Barok.

As I mentioned in our previous benbaro thought exchange, I take Barok as having been a huge vampire nerd, so having a vampire boyfriend is like a dream come true to him. It also opens new possibilities of taking care of and protecting Albert which he likes doing because it's an easier way for him to express that he cares about him.

Also here is a meme I made because I think Albert would travel most safely in daylight as a bat and to not lose him in the busy streets of London, Barok puts him in his breastpocket.

On a final note, here is my favorite vampire!Albert fic!

Pray forgive the discourtesy of this being more ben than baro or benbaro throughts, I hope me loving to think about the logistics of non-human stuff was still entertaining. I'd love to hear your vampire benbaro thoughts!! :)

[explodingsilver]

Book review: Nightbane by Alex Aster

Lightlark…2!

I’ve already made my thoughts on the first book quite clear (read that review first if you haven’t already; I don’t feel like rehashing all the context), and were I a bit more sensible, I would have stayed away from its sequel. I am, however, somewhat of a literary masochist, so of course I borrowed this from Hoopla the day it was released (November 7th, not too long ago). Very pleased that I was able to write this review much faster than the first one, though this review is shorter, at only 2,100 words long. Was the experience worth it? I don’t know, you tell me.

(There are spoilers ahead, on the off chance that you care)

The plot and style

After the events of the first book, Isla is trying to learn her several powers as well as get a hold of this “leading two different realms” thing while trying to move on from getting betrayed by four different people she used to love. At a celebration for a Wildling holiday (in which no Wildlings other than herself are in attendance), Grim magically crashes the party from afar and announces that the Nightshade army will destroy Lightlark in thirty days. The other realms start preparing for the invasion, and Isla tries to recover all her lost memories of being with Grim in hope that they will reveal what his goal is and how to stop him, especially after receiving a prophetic vision of him standing in the ruins of a village he destroyed with his powers.

Put simply, if the plot of the first book is split between “Isla and Celeste search for a MacGuffin” and “Isla and Oro search for a different MacGuffin”, this book is split between “Isla and Oro do basic defense building stuff” and “Isla remembers the time she and Grim searched for a third MacGuffin”. There’s also a subplot about a rebel group trying to capture Isla, but this is inconsequential and could’ve been dropped entirely.

It feels like there was an attempt to address some of the criticism of the first book, but not nearly enough of an attempt. On the one hand, metaphor usage has improved to the point where it actually feels like it was written by a human being and not a neural network (no throbbing and raw glaciers this time around), the book acknowledges that no longer having a power no one else had in the first place is less bad than having a maximum lifespan of 25, and Isla realizes that Grim let her win the duel in the first book and that she did not win against a 500+ year old army general on the strength of her own skill. On the other hand, it does not address questions like “how does Starling society even function if none of them ever live to 26?” or “if Oro always knows when someone is lying, why didn’t he call bullshit the moment Celeste said ‘Hi, my name is Celeste’?”

Speaking of that last thing: I didn’t mention it in my review of the first book because it didn’t really feel relevant to anything, but each ruler has a ‘flair’, a special power that is unique to them. Oro’s is that he can always tell when someone is lying. Grim’s is that he can teleport. This book reveals that Isla’s is that she is immune to curses. Glad to finally have an answer to one of my biggest questions of the first book (checks notes) 75% of the way through the second one, when this explanation should’ve been given the moment we learned the original stated reason does not apply.

Wildling elixir and its (lack of) consequences

Much of this book centers around the presence of the Wildling elixir from the first book, a potion that is super effective at healing wounds. As you might imagine, this kills a lot of the tension. Used in conjunction with Isla’s magical teleportation device, “teleport away, use Wildling elixir, teleport back” becomes an easy way to recover when the characters get their flesh ripped apart. And indeed, they do this all the time! The book tries to nerf this strategy by stating that the elixir is rare due to the flower used to make it being rare, but 1) this is at odds with Isla’s very liberal use of it, and 2) aren’t the Wildlings the “make flowers grow instantly” people? Why can’t they just use those powers on it like they do for every other plant?

There was a bit of potential for an interesting theme with these flowers: Isla eventually learns that while the Wildlings use them to make the healing elixir, the Nightshades use those exact same flowers to make the titular nightbane, which is basically fantasy heroin. I was intrigued by this motif (I like it when things have a dual nature like that), but unfortunately this doesn’t really go anywhere, other than some vague gesturing at “wow, just like Isla”. Speaking of Isla…

Isla

This time around, Isla is clearly traumatized by the events of the last book, trusts very few people, and is aware that she is in over her head with leading two realms full of subjects she barely knows while also being the king’s unofficial consort. Not a bad start for a character arc, but in effect, she has gone from naive and impulsive to naive, impulsive, and guilty about those things while making little effort to amend them. It feels like her attitude towards leadership is basically “I’m allowed to call myself a bad leader but nobody is allowed to agree with me on that.”

Much of Isla’s internal conflict in this book is based around her Nightshade heritage on her father's side. She is convinced that there is an inherently evil part of her because her father was from the Inherently Evil Realm. This may not come as a surprise, but I do not like when stories have such a thing as an Inherently Evil Realm. Not only does Nightshade fill this role, but the book never even gestures at pushing back against Isla’s conviction that her heritage taints her, and in fact ends up affirming it.

This book really told me to my face that Isla is the first person in millennia to have both Wildling and Nightshade powers. I do not buy that even for a moment. Maybe my disbelief is because the series discarded the “only one realm’s power set per person, even if their parents are from different realms” thing in the same book it was introduced, and I would expect there to be Wildling/Nightshade couples way more often than once per few millennia. But no, that highly plausible thing can’t happen because then Isla won’t be the most special person currently alive!

The other characters

Sadly, the rest of the cast did not improve, and in some instances, got worse.

Oro going from "world weary, distant king" to "official love interest" has unfortunately sanded down all his interesting aspects, and everything I liked about his character in the first book now takes a backseat to being overly protective of Isla and making stock Love Interests threats to kill anyone who hurts her. I swear, he turned so generic that some of his lines were indistinguishable from something Grim would say. But hey, if nothing else, he at least didn’t get character assassinated like I was sure he would!

While Grim actually does stuff in this book, he still has no personality traits other than what's included in the Sexy Villain Starter Pack. Like, it actually upsets me that he's such an absolute nothing of a character. Everything about him begins and ends with “what if the villain…was sexy?”, and there are about a morbillion stories out there that provide more interesting answers to this question. You’d think focusing on him this much would be the perfect opportunity to give him any unique traits at all, but Aster certainly did not take that opportunity, nor did she ever answer the question of why he likes Isla, despite the sheer number of pages dedicated to their relationship.

As for everyone else? Azul, our beloved token gay black man who runs his realm like a democracy, still receives woefully little page time. Cleo, the bitchy ruler who hates Isla for no reason, receives even less, but at least we get to hear about her dead son, I guess. Ella, Isla's Starling assistant, is mentioned so rarely I wonder if Aster forgot she exists. There are also several new average citizen characters introduced, but none of them are remotely interesting. They're all defined solely by whether or not they're on Isla's side. It says something when the best new character is Isla's new animal companion (a panther named Lynx, who rules because he does not give a shit about Isla).

The chili pepper emoji, as the TikTokers call it

Because I must do as the book did and address the topic of sex before I get to the final important bits.

This book is much hornier than the first one, but in a way that makes large parts of it feel like one of those dreams where you're trying to have sex with someone but your attempts keep getting interrupted. I regret that I did not count the number of times Isla was about to fuck someone and then got denied for some reason or another.

There are three times she actually succeeds, and luckily these scenes do not read like they were written by Sarah J. Maas, despite her obvious influence on everything else. This doesn't seem like much of a compliment, but this series needs all the W’s it can get. That's not to say everything is fine, though. There's one scene that's obviously using all the "first time" stuff for characterization, and I can't help but feel this would be more effective had they not already slept together a few short chapters beforehand? Like c’mon, all you had to do was switch the order of those two scenes.

The ending

Shortly before the Nightshade army is set to storm the island and destroy it, Isla learns Grim’s (and Cleo’s) real motivation for doing so: there’s a portal on the island leading to another world, one in which the original founders of Lightlark came from before making Lightlark in the image of the world they left. Grim and Cleo want to open that portal and reach the other world, which will just so happen to destroy the island. They’re not actually trying to kill everyone for the evulz. Isla, in her naivety, accidentally opens it for them before they even arrive.

During the final battle, while trying to steal Grim's powers so she can kill him and save Lightlark, Isla finally remembers the last two important memories: 1) she and Grim actually got married right before he memory-wiped her, and 2) what she thought was a prophetic vision of him killing an entire village was actually a memory of her doing so. Convinced that she'll accidentally kill Oro if she stays with him, she agrees to go with Grim, whom she just realized she is still in love with, in exchange for a promise that he'll withdraw the attack.

I cannot remember the last time I had this strong of an "are you fucking kidding me" reaction to the end of a book. But after some thinking, I decided that it actually makes for some great tragedy material. “Traumatized woman with a supportive partner becomes convinced that she’s too horrible to be with him and goes back to her terrible husband” would make for a good story if this was a more grounded book written by anyone else. Alas, this concept just had to be tackled here.

I also naively thought that because the deal was for two books, that means this would be a duology. But it feels like there will be a third book, and I'm hoping there is, not out of any desire for more (unsure how much more I can take), but because it would be straight-up authorial malpractice to end the series on that note.

Conclusion

This honestly wasn’t quite as bad as the first book, but the problems that persisted outweighed the ones that got fixed, and the severe case of Middle Book Syndrome certainly did not help its case. It’s a very small improvement stylistically, but when the nicest things I can say about it are “there were some concepts that could’ve made for an interesting story in the hands of a better author” and “the sex scenes aren’t atrocious” and “the cat is kinda cool”, then I feel justified in calling it terrible overall. It’s a good thing that Lightlark…3! is presumably a long ways away, because I will need all that time to recover from having read this.

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Phoenix and the Crow

part five

pairing: (in the making) kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: neutural

el's thoughts: this one has a lot of action haha and was a bit harder to get through, but here it is! hope y'all like it! please remember to reblog and comment :)

series masterlist

The inferni rushed over to the brunette and wrapped her in a tight hug, “Oh, I’ve missed you!” Nina gasped in surprise, “Y/N! What in Saint’s sake are you doing here of all places?” Y/N chuckled, “I thought I needed a vacation. Look where and with who I’ve ended up.” 

Kaz looked between the two grisha. “And how do you two know each other?” 

“The little palace.” They replied together.

Wylan shuffled his feet once the silence settled in the workshop. “Can I get anyone some tea?”

Kaz rolled his eyes at Wylan and turned back to Nina, “You worked with Arken.”

“It was more of a limited partnership.” Nina shrugged while she kept an arm wrapped around Y/N’s shoulders. 

“Did you trust him?” Kaz was expecting a certain answer.

Nina scoffed, “That turncoat? Not on your life. He was shadier than an oak at three bells.”

Kaz looked satisfied, “What’s your price?”

“I’ve expended the legal avenues on my problem. Every clerk in the city says the same thing. ‘The judge will see you in six months.’” Nina’s voice grew frustrated at the reminder of being turned down and away time and time again.

“And so you’re looking for the not-so-legal route on… What, exactly?”

“I’m told you could free someone from Hellgate.”

Kaz looked towards Inej and she stood there unmoving, both their eyes were calculating, but one pair was colder than the other. 

“Hellgate? Who do you need from Hellgate?” Y/N asked.

“Someone, I say as if he’s anyone, and in truth, he’s the love of my life,” Nina spoke while looking between Y/N and Kaz. The inferni smiled with pride at the thought of her good friend finding love. Kaz on the other hand pursed his lips in thought and tilted his head, “I can’t get you a release from Hellgate.” Nina nodded in acceptance before he spoke up again, “But I can get you a visit. In exchange for your services.”

“What do you need me for?”

“The aftermath.”

Everyone stared at him as he walked up the steps, “Follow me.” Y/N and Nina stood in place for a moment before Inej spoke up. “He does this.” She turned to follow the others as the two grisha women shared a look, “Does he?”

The group of six walked up and out onto the roof now having a great view of the city. Continuing to follow him, they all lined up beside each other waiting expectantly for Kaz to say something. “Brick by brick.”

Inej looked up at Jesper beside her with furrowed eyebrows seconds before an explosion went off. The large puff of fire and smoke seemed almost unreal as the screams of citizens could barely be heard over the distance.

“What was that?” Jesper’s voice was shaken as he spoke.

“The Crow Club.”

The zemini turned to Wylan, “Was that yours?” The brown-haired boy didn’t respond but looked down in guilt as he realized what he’d helped Kaz do.

Y/N spoke, starting hesitantly, “I take it we’re now in the aftermath?”

“This doesn’t help us clear our name, Kaz. This is war with Pekka Rollins, the King of the Barrel.”

Kaz’s face had no emotion written across it, he held his composer well. “The Barrel doesn’t belong to kings.” He turned on his heel and walked back to the door they came from, “It belongs to bastards.”

~

Crows symbolize prophecy, transformation, change, and freedom. They also remember faces, the people who’ve wronged them, and the people who’ve shown them kindness. ‘It makes sense.’ Y/N thought to herself. Revenge was something that seemed to plague Kaz’s mind, while that alone would be pure danger in a shot glass… He had Inej and Jesper to balance him out. Together they’re still dangerous but more sensible if only Kaz was able to sit and hear his crew out. Their feelings and thoughts, if everything was on the table and sorted properly, would be a well-shaken cocktail.

Y/N walked through the door of the restaurant and quickly found the table her group was seated at. Nina, Wylan, and Inej sat on one side of the booth while Jesper and Kaz sat on the other. “Sorry, I’m late. I got distracted.” She looked at Kaz expectantly, waiting for him to stand or slide into the booth to make room for her. He scowled before he stood up and let her slide in next to Jesper. 

“Move closer,” Jesper muttered in her ear causing her to glance at him confused but she moved either way, leaving more space for Kaz.

“Back to topic. If you hate him so much, why not just hire me to kill him?” Nina asked, “Or why hire me at all? Your sharpshooter or your Wraith could take him out, easy.”

“It’s not enough to kill him.” Kaz’s voice was rough as if it was difficult to speak.

Inej and Jesper shared a look while Nina and Y/N did the same. 

“Killing him doesn’t help clear our names. That’s why I need all of you, so I can hang everything back on him.”

Y/N hummed as Inej responded. “And we are the pawns who enact your personal vendetta?”

“The three of us are under equal jeopardy. And if they catch us, we can’t protect you.” His coffee-brown eyes bore into Wylan before he shifted his gaze to Nina. “And you’ll have to turn to Pekka to see your man. No doubt with some very unappealing conditions attached.”

“All of that in mind,” Jesper spoke. “I mean, Inej and I need to know the plan.”

Wylan nodded, “Um, yes, I… I, too, would like to know the plan.” He crossed his arms over his chest after speaking. The inferni and bastard’s eyes moved in sync down to his crossed arms and back to his face. One pair was filled with amusement and endearment while the other was filled with the exact opposite.

Kaz scanned the restaurant quickly before shifting his body to the side, “To get leverage on him, I need to know the scope of his business, inside-out. There are two easy to learn this. This first is by following his private driver, and tracking his schedule. Second, his accountant, Henrik Van Poel. If I get access to Pekka’s books, it’ll tell me everything I need to know. So, we need to get into that building.”

Inej pulled the small curtain open and everyone turned to look at the building across the street. 

“It’s where his accountant works. Although, there’s no way of knowing which office.” Nina stood from the table, took the menu, and walked away. Kaz paid no mind and continued, “That’s the mission. It looks like a typical office building, but it has a number of subtle features.”

Y/N zoned out of the conversation. ‘How’d I get from being a soldier to being a thief?’ Nina came back and sat down with a waffle on her plate. Kaz stared at her in disbelief, “I need you with me while I copy Henrik’s books.” He turned to face the girl beside him, “You as well. Gunfire will only draw attention, but a Heartrender-” 

“Has many skills. Yes, like this.” Nina finished swallowing her bite of waffle. “Second floor, second-last door on the left.” Everyone stared at her in confusion. 

After a moment Kaz asked, “What?”

“Henrik's office.” She replied in an obvious tone and turned to Inej, “Do you mind?” She nodded at the empty glass and pitcher of water. “How do you know this?” Inej asked as she passed the water. “I asked the waitress.”

“How did she know?” Jesper asked in utter shock.

“People who work in places like that, they eat in places like this. And sometimes they get meals delivered.” Y/N spoke up this time.

Nina nodded, “Yes, exactly. So I said, ‘Um, excuse me, but I have a delivery and I can’t read the directions.’ Ta-da.”

Jesper chuckled, “I like having her around.”

“And I like truth. You said you’d get me in to see Matthias.”

Kaz nodded his head slowly, clearly impressed with her skills. “You’ll get your visit to Hellgate.”

~

Y/N climbed up the stairs to the roof where Jesper said Kaz was waiting. She had gone with Inej to scope out the building so they have a basic idea of what they were getting themselves into. 

“What did you find?” 

His voice startled her a bit since his back was facing her. “There’s a doorman even after hours, and a pair of roving guards in the halls. But Inej can get you in through a window as long as Nina and myself watch the front.”

“If this goes sideways, tell the others to regroup at the Black Veil. Get the Heartrender. We leave in ten.”

She hesitated and sighed, “Her name is Nina.” She walked closer to him, “Does your crew know what happened between you and Rollins?” She didn’t quite know his full story, but she did know that the two had a history. That was what was fueling his thirst for revenge.

He looked back at her, “All they need to know is that I have a reason. And you need to know even less.”

She rolled her eyes, “There’s enough secrecy in the crew as is, Brekker.”

“Secrecy is the only way to survive the Barrel, Y/L/N.” His voice was harsh, getting on her last nerve.

“So keeping us, keeping your friends in the dark is about survival?”

“Now you’re getting it.”

She hummed, “Their survival or yours?” She received only silence as an answer. “Trust is the other side of secrecy, Kaz. I know I’ve done nothing to earn your trust, but they do. Especially Inej and Jesper, but you’ve instilled such fear into them that they can’t even talk to you about it.” She quickly reined in her tone and temper, “It’d do you good to remember that.” She quickly turned back to the door and walked back down the stairs. 

~

Nina leaned against the wall as Y/N looked around her up and down the street. “Clear.” The pair walked slowly across the street. “Why must I be the drunk one?” Y/N whined quietly. 

“‘Cause I’m the one who’s gonna knock him out.” 

“Doesn’t explain why-” 

Nina yanked the inferni’s arm over her shoulder and kicked her leg out just a little so she was leaning into her side. They made it to the front steps when the doorman stopped in front of them.

“Ooh. Closed up for the night.”

Nina chuckled, “Uh, We’ll just be a minute. I, uh, need to use the loo.”

“You can go down the street to Manny’s pub. They’re open.” He pointed to a building down the road where the lights shined brighter.

“They won’t let us back in there… Not since we drank the barkeep under the table.” She chuckled as Y/N giggled and let a hiccup slip through her lips.

The doorman laughed and looked the Heartrender up and down, “I do like a woman who can hold her liquor.”

“Oh, well, I, uh, can’t hold it everywhere.” She said in a sing-song voice. Y/N giggled again and started humming. “So, do you mind?” She finished.

He cleared his throat, “Not tonight. Sorry, love.”

Nina rolled her eyes and threw up her hands, quickly slowing his heart down. Y/N stood up as the man fell forward onto Nina. “Oof, okay.” She placed him down on the steps. 

“Sorry, love.” The inferni mocked as the pair walked to the door and slipped through.

They made it to the second floor in a hurry, their heels causing a slight echo in the otherwise silent halls. “I thought there were guards in the halls,” Nina asked. Y/N nodded, “There were supposed to be.” The brunette shrugged, “Down that side.” Y/N walked to the office door and pushed it open slowly finding the room empty for just a moment before Kaz appeared in the window.

They were silently sorted through files and heavy books when a heavily accented voice spoke from behind them.

“Fine night, ain’t it, Brekker?”

Kaz slowly looked up as Pekka Rollins turned on an oil lamp on the desk. Guards stood on the other side of the door. ‘We’re trapped.’ “Burning the midnight oil, are we?” Kaz asked.

“I thought I’d cut to the chase.” Pekka ignored Y/N entirely, keeping his attention solely on Kaz. “You can’t show your faces at my clubs and my brothels to pull threads on me, so where would you go?” Kaz stayed silent. “Step away from the desk.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want blood on my furniture. My numbers man’ll bill me for it, and, well, you’ve already cost me enough money by blowing up my club.”

Kaz’s fist clenched as he leaned forward, “My club.”

Pekka hummed in amusement, “Before I kill you, I want you to know that I brought in a madman to capture your Wraith. Sorry. My Wraith.”

Both Y/N and Kaz turned to the window and saw a man in a fur mask climb up the rope that lead to Inej. A low groan was heard from the back of her throat. 

“I fixed up the cellar at the Menagerie, got the best shackles that money can buy.” 

Kaz’s face dropped as anger boiled in the pit of Y/N’s stomach.

“Oh, and I got my man to lay a trap for your gunslinger.”

‘He was outnumbered and outsmarted… Again.’

Kaz only clenched his fist and tightened his grip on his cane.

“Clean sweep, Brekker. All that will be left will be my little spider, back in her cage. Ooh, I’m going to sleep well.”

The door was pushed open and Y/N saw Nina down the hall. Pekka saw her through the glass on the door. “Heartrender!”

“Meet the newest member of my crew.” Kaz held the door still so Nina could see Pekka clearly through the glass as well. The guard on the floor gathered enough strength when Rollins fell to the floor to raise his arm and fire at Nina. She fell backward when the bullet hit her arm. Kaz dived behind the desk and Y/N fell down beside him when gunshots were fired at them.

“Kaz, let me-”

“No.”

The gunshots didn’t let up as grunts were barely heard from the hall. “It’s over, Brekker!” Pekka shouted over the gunfire. Kaz pulled out two small bombs from his pocket and a lighter. He tried to start the lighter but no flicker of fire came from it. He cursed under his breath before Y/N scoffed, “Oh, hand it over.” She pulled the bombs from his hands, snapped her fingers, and lit the fuses before throwing them over to the other side of the desk. Kaz stared at her as she brought her hands over her ears. “Ears!” She shouted at him and he quickly covered his ears right before the bombs went off.

~

“Black Veil is a cemetery?” 

No one answered Y/N’s question as they kept walking, crossing paths with Jesper and Wylan.

“Assuming you got ambushed too?” Jesper asked.

“Oh, yeah, so many of them, I lost count,” Nina said, slightly out of breath. 

“I got what I needed, and Wylan’s bombs took take of the rest.”

Y/N scoffed at him as they followed and waited while he pushed open a large tomb, Inej was leaning on her heavily. “Get her inside,” Kaz instructed. Nina followed the other two girls inside without question. The clicking of the crow cane was familiar at this point and brought a weird sense of peace to Y/N as she lead the group blindly through the tomb.

~*~*~*~

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