#i’m in love with the compositions and shape language

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @themetalhiro

Hi, I’m Metal! I’m a freelance artist from good ol’ New Jersey. My favorite things to work with are a lot of bright colors, exaggerated poses, and candid scenarios. I try to farm sensible chuckles whenever I can, so I’m also big into comics. I love making them about my life, and the media I’m into, and one day I’d like to publish my own series!  Thank you to everyone who has gotten me this far!!

Check out Metal's interview below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I guess so! It’s funny, I don’t remember a single time in my life that I wasn’t drawing as a hobby… somewhere in middle school (a little late, I know.) I put the pieces together that animated movies were made by artists, and that it wasn’t just for fun, they were paid to do it. The moment I discovered people could be paid to make art, I decided I would do that, too. Now I’m here!

How has your style developed over the years?

I think the best way to answer this would be with an example! Over the last few years, I have made more of an effort to draw more intentionally, which sounds silly. Now, I put more thought into my poses and step out of my comfort zone with shape language and composition. I had a phase where I drew everyone with a huge, perfectly circular head and no nose. That definitely did not lend much variety...

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

Ack! I’m so terrible at history! I’d love to give a well-thought-out answer about fine artists of old, but I don't think we’d have much in common… Most artists I admire and who have driven me forward creatively are the people behind comics I’ve read. Andrew Hussie, Bryan Lee O’Malley, Eiichiro Oda... these guys have inspired me greatly and had a heavy influence in developing my art style and sense of humor. I’d love to ask them questions about their processes and upcoming projects. I think it would make for an entertaining night!

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Outside of pure aesthetics like searing bright colors, layered clothing, and loud noises…. the best and most inspiring moments in my life were those surrounded by friends and loved ones! I cherish the hell out of memories of hanging around in fun locations, trying weird food together, and impromptu midnight walks... so I try my best to capture that atmosphere and my own memories in my work when I can, even if I’m imposing fictional characters on top of them. That’s always the core of it.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

I would never permanently refuse a medium, but every time I pick up clay, I’m like a baby using its hands for the first time. Absolutely dreadful. If one day I could make and paint a figurine like the ones I admire in videos, that would be awesome... But for now, I’m not counting on it.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I’ve had an absolute blast drawing fanart over the years, and it’s certainly played a massive role in my growth as an artist. But my dream has always been to publish my own stories for y'all to enjoy! I have lots of worlds I want to introduce to you before I’m old and gray. I want to get faster, work harder, and get better at drawing interesting settings so I can get the wheels turning as soon as possible. I also want to stop avoiding the color blue like a coward.

What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating art that you know now?

Pay your taxes quarterly. Tablets will break at the exact moment you need them most, so have a spare. Wear your blue light glasses. You’re going to need to wear a brace on every joint on the right side of your body. It can be lonely sitting at your desk all day. The car on the side of the road that costs $1000 cash….. don’t trust it!!!

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@cranity—They use absolutely beautiful colors and weighty line work. Everything looks so sharp and clean! I wanna put it all up on my wall!

@vewn—Their ability to crank out quality short films and illustrations packed with detail is incredible. The off-kilter perspective they use really sells disorientation and catches your attention like nothing else.

@nelnal—They have absolutely banger character designs again and again, I can’t believe one person’s mind can come up with so many creative ideas!

@jinx88kc—They have a beautiful and recognizable style, and the way they incorporate animation into their illustrations sometimes is SO cool!

Thanks for stopping by, Metal! For more of Metal’s work, follow their Tumblr, @themetalhiro! If you haven't seen their Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here!

[arczism]

I'm drawing a bit myself and studied Digital Media (including graphic design) and just wanted to tell you I ADORE your shape language so much! I'm so happy to have found you on tumblr. 😭

Can I get a doodle/sketch of Zorro, pleeease? 😍

Much love! 💛

Thank you, anon 🥺 There’s nothing more humbling than compliments from another artist. I’m so happy to hear that because I’ve recently started focusing a lot on shapes, and composition aaaand brush economy..... and it's been a lot 😩 anyway thank you again! Hope you like yet another zoro i will never finish ig

[op-la]

first of all i love your work, your composition and anatomy skills are incredible!!

second thank you for drawing lestat a bit bigger? than louis; i remember when i was drawing loustat i'd make him a few centimeters wider in the shoulders and people would i guess jokingly point out i was 'yaoifying' them and seeing someone else do that makes me realize i wasn't wrong for drawing that

sorry if this is an odd comment, genuinely just like you as an artist <3

Full disclosure before I go in, I AM a fujoshi and this is a yaoi household LOL so I’m not going to deny how that influences my art. However, I am also an artist with a lot of love for the human body and even though my works are more stylized than realistic, I still care a lot about maintaining likeness and recognizability when depicting real-life people. I love drawing the IWTV cast so much because everyone has very distinctive body builds and facial features and it's so fun to play around with shapes and styles when putting the characters together. For Loustat in particular, while JA and SR are around the same height, their builds are quite different. Coupled with their acting choices and how they choose to embody Louis and Lestat, their characters have very distinctive, yet harmonizing, visual identities. I guess one way to put it simply is that they have very good character design lol (the whole cast of IWTV could make for a good exercise in character design and building a character lineup tbh haha).

I've seen in passing this conversation about insisting that the characters (Loustat in particular) be drawn similarly in build, and quite frankly, I just don't get it. You have a group of people with different body shapes and already interesting visual languages built in, why would you want to flatten that out by drawing everyone the same? Isn't that just same-face syndrome but for bodies? Idk, it just feels boring to me.

All that being said, my stance on fanart is that it should be a space for creativity and exploration. As long as you are aware of the context of the work and respectful of the subject you are depicting, I feel like people shouldn’t be made to feel “wrong” just because they choose to portray a character in their own interpretation. Ultimately we are here to have fun and play toys lol please just be nice and respectful to one another.

[eda-hagetaka]

Hello, this is an excerpt from my fanfic about the Akatsuki being transported into our world.

Sasori x reader

(Sorry for any possible mistakes, English is my third language.)

No warnings, it’s just something cute .

Perfumed.

Her gaze lingered on the glass display case with wooden shelves, the dim light within, the elegant bottles. She wasn’t sure why she was looking at it at all. But her body was already moving forward.

“Where are you going?” a voice sounded behind her.

Sasori.

The girl turned her head.

“I’ll be back soon. Just want to check something.”

“Of course.”

His voice carried a hint of reproach.

“I’m coming with you,” the redhead stated, stepping after her. Rena arched a thin brow.

“Why?”

“So you don’t decide to run off.”

The Akatsuki exchanged glances, silently agreeing.

“Fine,” she muttered, feeling a weight in her chest.

From the moment she crossed the threshold, the air hit her with a wave of heat—spices, or perhaps flowers? It was hard to tell, but the scent distracted her from the pounding of her heart.

Sasori took in the calm atmosphere of the shop, his gaze sweeping over the space. As the thought formed, he hesitated. After all, scent was chemistry. Composition. Just like poison.

His eyes flickered over the small glass vials on the shelf, reading the labels: amber, moss, iron oxide… He recognized these components—though from a different, more practical perspective.

“You’re staring so intently. Do you want something specific?” Rena’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

She stood beside him, already holding a slender glass tester in her hands.

“Nothing,” he replied curtly.

For a moment, she seemed to have forgotten her worries—peace wrapped around her again. With a hopeful smile, she asked,

“Can I… give you a gift?”

She looked at him with a mix of awkwardness and curiosity.

Sasori tilted his head slightly.

“A gift?” he echoed.

Rena didn’t avert her gaze from his gray-brown eyes. From the outside, it might have seemed almost rude—intrusive.

“Why?” he asked, holding her stare, sharp as a needle.

“I… love scents. It’s my little passion. A fragrance can tell you more about a person than you might think. Perfumery is an art.”

Her voice was soft, languid, like molten beeswax.

“And what do you want to say about me? Or for me?” Sasori raised a brow slightly, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips

Rena lowered her head for a moment, curling into herself, but then, with quiet resolve, she stepped toward a display lined with tall, somber bottles.

She reached out, slowly selecting one of the testers.

“Sasori, may I see your hand?”

Akasuna stepped closer, extending his wrist. Rena applied the scent with careful precision.

Bitter smoke, something sharp, woody, with a faint sweetness. Intoxicating… No, honey and tobacco? A familiar scent.

For a fleeting second, the Scorpion’s heart stopped. He knew this smell—had heard it before, but the memory was blurred. No image, no shape—just something warm. Something close.

Rena noticed the way Sasori went still.

“Its name is Chergui by Serge Lutens,” she murmured. “A strange, complex scent. Something between decay and eternity.”

Sasori lifted his gaze in silence.

For a rare moment, emotion flickered through the face of the living puppet.

“Yes,” he admitted. “It is art.”

[thewandererh]

💛Hello everyone! Wanderer here :]

Please DO NOT send me donation asks, they make me feel anxious. I do not know the difference between bots and real people. I have no money to give. Contact active organizations instead of me. I send good wishes and hope your situation gets better. Thank you.

DNI : pedos, zoos, and pedo/zoo apologists, NSFW blogs, donation blogs, homophobes, transphobes, racists (etc), romantic + sexual cjshippers, prolifers, proshippers, generative ai supporters, trump supporters, anyone who disrespects boundaries as a “joke,” people not open to mental growth & learning.

♻️Reblogs will ALWAYS mean more than likes because they motivate the blogger and share their work with a wider audience!♻️

_…-^*^-…_ _…-^*^-…_ _…-^*^-…_

Meet me! I am a: mental health advocate, gluten free eater, adhd+autism individual, plushies-are-alive believer, emoji enjoyer, local logophile, and ceaseless cloudspotter

i’m also a Visual-Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging-Turbulent Advocate!

i value boundaries highly! i prefer my relationships contain mutual respect, trust, and support on both sides. if something i’m uncomfortable with comes up, i’ll tell you :]! and you can always tell me too ^_^

i like saying good things about others’ creations, but that doesn’t mean it’s my job. i do it when i have enough capacity/energy for it in a given day. i believe all artists and art are equal. no one is above another no matter what! we are all influenced by, like, and explore different things as people, and that effects all of our wonderful art <3. i’m personally transitioning to reblogging less so i get less carried away in tumblr ^^’

i exist to express myself. and you do too ^^! creating what brings joy leads to fulfillment and a well-rounded sense of self. don’t follow me for one specific thing, as i am not anchored to one fandom, idea, or another. i am just here to have fun :].

i act very whimsical online because it brings me joy, and kindness is a great standard for human connection. i’m always being genuine, and always a little bit nervous too! i try not to come off as intimidating but if anyone feels that way thats valid! i promise i don’t bite ^_^

🍱 current interests

i will be reblogging spoilers! unfollow and/or block main tags if you want to avoid them

🩶Chonny Jash CCCC!!! again!!

🐞My own Ecosystem Hell au #ei-ecoh

🌱The Elementally-Inclined #elementaliterator

🪲Tarigon’s Ecosystem Hell Iterator Logs au

✍️Iterator Logs

🤖SOMA

👀Rainworld : The Watcher

🎧 favorite song artists

i really love intricate, atmospheric, and acoustic aspects in my music :]! furthermore, lyrics filled with a feeling, metaphors, or even a story i can think about powers my inspiration ^_^

newest addition : chonny jash

chonny jash — delaney bailey — bear ghost — james primate — le loupe — jhariah — bo burnham — WYS — haley heynderickx — searows — jack conte — good kid — jonas tyroller — louie zong — johanna warren — noah kahan — imogen heap — cosmo sheldrake — AURORA — glass animals — cavetown — the crane wives — phoebe bridgers — far caspian — kiltro — frida johansson — tamkish — lemon demon — owl city — vashti bunyan — yann van der cruyssen — meydän — lifeformed

🪤 hyperfixations

☔️rain world

🩶chonny jash

☁️clouds (official cloud appreciation society member!)

☢️radioactivity (thank you kyle hill)

🧐 other things i really like

analyzing literary devices, leitmotifs, and psychology

character/creature design (psychology <3, metaphors, shape language, palettes)

visual composition + graphic design

outfit experimentation when dressing up (flannel jackets, shirts with decals)

collecting memoirs (stickers, patches, notebooks, other trinkets)

medical themes and environments, often in a liminal sense

underwater environments

exploring the gluten-freeness of trader joe’s :]

words that feel fun to say (alliterations = vocal stims)

background noise/music (lofi!)

lots of origami!

🗺️ tags for navigating my blog!

tap on each link to see more!

traditional art : #pen&pencilparade

#slugcatmarkerdoodles & #worksheetworkshopping

digital art : #digitaldepictions

animation : #awesomeanimating

longform stuff : #wordwondering

favorite posts of my hyperfixations : #hyperfixationhullabalooing

original stories/essays : #puttingpen2paper

talkin ‘bout clouds : #carwindowcloudspotting / #cloudcommunications

silly jokes : #sillyposting

crafts : #craftcorner

plushies go places : #plushadventures

play these games : #game recommendations

saved mental advice : #figuringmyselfout

get to know me! : #personalposts

answers/asks/convo reblogs : #letters2&fro

fanart?!?? : #gloriousgallery

my favorite posts : #fave

writing i love : #bookshelf

📜 oc story tags!

💛ORIGINAL:

#theinexpendables - alien diving robots are dug up by humans

#cloudkids - cloud-inspired silly guys live life in the suburbs

#proteanpunishment - abstract animal shapeshifters defend their magic

#valley - two clifffaces spend eternity together

☔️RAINWORLD:

#elementaliterator - the angsty makings of twine’s journey chasing the light

#ei-ecoh - iterators forced to grow on their own now survive alone

#kylehillgang - robots of wacky science make it in the ecosystem somehow

#prince&pebbles - angsty watcher au of pebbles’ decay with a toxic figure

🔀CJ x RW CROSSOVERS:

#iambicpentameter - robiological hms mentally reconnect

#iambicpentameter deepswim - SUL dives below superficial life

#technicolorquintet - thdph but iterator (they are very gay)

🩶CHONNY JASH:

#cccclinic - whole’s headspacial recovery during and after a very big coma

#ccccycles - jashlings painfully change forms when fights resort to violence

hope you all have a wonderful day :]💛

[yellow-yarrow]

Plain text version of this post about Russian cosmism and Disco Elysium's lore part 2 :

Cosmist connections in Elysium’s lore Part 2 - Music and mathematics

From Sacred and Terrible Air:

He is an aristocrat, the comte de Pérouse and the comte de Mittrecie; but his hatred of the bourgeoisie, which have usurped the upper classes, makes him a proletarian and therefore a revolutionary. In the course of his life, Émile has also come to think of himself as a composer. He has a morbid thirst for fame, but he’s determined to win the hearts of the people with his dodecaphonic works. The comte’s sound is based on a strikingly modern geometric-symbolist system of harmonies that has nothing to do with the music of the rest of the civilised world. To the human ear, it sounds like unacceptable screeching. Émile considers the tonal, traditional sonority to be womb-shaped. A soul-soporific babble. The music of amoebas.

Millions and billions, hundreds of thousands of billions of young girls in love, they love me and my twelve-tone melody!

-

The twelve-tone technique, also known as the “twelve-tone technique organized in a series in which each note is related only to the next,” was Schoenberg’s revolutionary innovation that expanded the boundaries of musical composition. This method sought to create equal emphasis on all twelve pitches within an octave, eliminating any sense of hierarchy or tonal center. [1]

-

Nonetheless, much of his work was not well received. […]his work is usually defended rather than listened to, and that it is difficult to experience it apart from the ideology that surrounds it. [2]

-

Independently of his influential contemporary Arnold Schoenberg, Scriabin developed a much more dissonant musical language that had transcended usual tonality but was not atonal, which accorded with his personal brand of metaphysics. [3]

-

Alexander Scriabin, who was inspired by the Russian Cosmist ideas of his day, sought to unite humanity for a common task much like Fyodorov. He can be regarded as the most representative member of the artistic branch of Russian Cosmism. Scriabin's vision was to use artistic means to achieve Cosmist ends. His artistic vision, which was grounded in philosophy and spirituality, can be most clearly observed in his project Mysterium. [3]

-

'A seven-day tumult of light and sound, perfumes and pyrotechnics'

Scriabin’s work was Mysterium – a medieval miracle play raised to the point of cosmic transfiguration. A tumult of light and sound, perfumes and pyrotechnics, it would last seven whole days. And it would climax – its composer believed – with the end of the world as we know it and the birth of a new, ‘nobler’ human race. 

-

At the end of the Prefatory Action’s libretto, he wrote ‘We will all dissolve in the ethereal whirlwind We will be born in the whirlwind! And in the splendid luster Of the final flourish Appearing to each other In the exposed beauty Of sparkling souls We will disappear... Dissolve...’

-

“From the end, there, through the polar night, that music will resound. It will play on future phonographs. On magnets! Yet—it does not come from there. You’ll be famous, Monsieur Mittrecie, your music will reach us from the true end, even further beyond there, where all matter is but memory. So sounds the white light that shines into every darkroom, turning all revelations into nothingness.” He rises up on tiptoe, under the critic’s nose. “All revelations—I said—turn to naught!”

The little man finishes and bows to the comte. “Every single part was absolute, mathematical perfection.”

“Oh no, I’m not a critic,” the man replies, his eyes sparklin with admiration. “I’m a maths teacher.”

-

Joyce -"The further into pale you travel, the steeper the degree of suspension. Right down to the mathematical -- numbers stop working. No one has yet passed the number barrier. It may be impossible."

Abandoned Lorry - It looks like an article ripped out from a radio-enthusiast magazine. Complex mathematical equations explain the basics of something called 'the ULAN frequency system'.

"A pale latitude compressor is used to sort of… make the pale more manageable. With a lot of these, you can force a radio signal grid on the pale -- literally crunch the distance across it." (..) It's meant for forcing dimensions on something that doesn't have them. Needless to say, the frequencies used are… out of this world. "At the upper limit is the large prime number generator station. It's used specifically for pale latitude compression. That's why you may be hearing some numbers.

“It’s maths, right?” Jesper is sitting with his hands under his head. “Some mathematical rule explains this [the killer wave]?” (..) “but the same non-linear effect also explains the pale. They use it in entroponetics. This is how the pale behaves when it sweeps over the world.”

“That’s right, [Ulv] talks with the dead. They’ll come if he plays them some Van Eyck and old Rietveld.” (…) “He communicates with the pale.”

Soona, the Programmer - "It was mathematical information -- from the anomaly -- presented as a waveform. That's what it was technically -- theoretically…"

Endurance - The abstract shapes swelling in the foreground have done so in vain. This is a core matter. The answer, in the double-kick that moves the millilitres through your mind. The dark thud is the source of all rhythm, the inspiration behind mathematics… Endurance - The hard core.

-

“In any case, the secret of expanding our power over nature obviously lies in extending this method to the entire environment. The idea of a universal mathematics was prefigured in many ancient theories that shaped the science of numbers. Since the most ancient times, we find traces of this science among the Chaldeans and Babylonians, […] and, partly, the Gnostics, this research in numerical symbolism was transmitted to medieval philosophy, ”

-

“ In the nineteenth century, mathematics enjoyed an unprecedented heyday: in its countless applications, it became the basis of all modern technology and man’s real power over nature. Its meaning was the same as in the ancient teachings about numbers: the desire to express all things by means of numbers and the conviction that knowing the formula of a process or thing gave us the power to change and guide the process and thus create the thing. ”

-

the most perfect species of thought is thought encapsulated in numbers, the project and all its departments and units must consist of a system of formulas or numbers, each providing a key to a process performed by action. […] science in general must provide the formula of any and all possible actions in its theoretical and practical modes. […] However, numbers can be replaced with similarly effective signs or names, whose knowledge gives us dominion over nature. All these tasks clearly involve transforming nature, altering and improving what was heretofore produced by the spontaneous actions of its powers.

The quotes are from the following writings:

Unveiling the musical revolution: Schoenberg’s atonality and the innovation of twelve-tone system by giuseppe.bonaccorso

Arnold Schoenberg wikipedia page

Alexander Scriabin wikipedia page

Temples, incense, giant bells hanging from the clouds: the wild world of Scriabin's Mysterium BBC music magazine

A Universal Productive Mathematics by Valerian Muravyev from Russian Cosmism edited by Boris Groys

Disco Elysium, Sacred and Terrible Air by Robert Kurvitz

bonus: more about the Mysterium

[paperanddice]

Fidele angels are created from the souls of two beings who loved each other so deeply and truly that their love transcended death. Eventually this bond carried on to their ascension, becoming true celestial beings that share a connection so deep they appear in many ways to be one being across two bodies. While each member of a pairing may have individual interests and distinct personalities, they share all thoughts and senses with each other at all times, and anything that affects one carries across to the other as well. They even share their life force, one's injuries sustained by the other until they are both overcome at once. They live or die as one being, neither surviving beyond the other's death.

Their angelic duties are to mortals who are denied love, whether by a culture or family that forces a couple apart or one who refuses to recognize the feelings they have for another. Fidele angels will live among mortals for years, encouraging social change that denies lovers through carefully planned campaigns that may last decades. When social campaigns fail however, they will draw weapons in righteous fury and attempt to bring down the oppressive powers that be by force, recognizing that sometimes such measures are necessary.

Originally from the Tome of Beasts 1. This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I’m working on, consider backing me there!

Pathfinder 2e

Fidele Angel Creature 5 NG Medium Celestial Angel Perception +12; darkvision Languages Celestial, Draconic, Infernal, tongues Skills Athletics +14, Diplomacy +13, Religion +13 Str +5, Dex +4, Con +2, Int +2, Wis +3, Cha +4 Items longsword, composite longbow (20 arrows) AC 21; Fort +9, Ref +13, Will +14; +1 status to all saves against magic HP 98; Weaknesses evil 5 Ever Touching The fidele angel has two bodies that share the same hit points and initiative. Each turn the fidele gets 4 actions and two reactions it can split between its two bodies. A single body can take at most 3 actions during its turn. Each body tracks its multiple attack penalty separately. Any condition that affects one body affects the other if reasonable (for example, if one body is blinded by the blindness spell so is the other, but if one is immobilized by the entangle spell the other body is not). Stun or slow subtracts from the combined action pool. The fidele cannot willingly separate its bodies by more than 1,000 feet, and cannot be compelled to separate further than that or attack its other body by any magic. Speed 40 feet, fly 40 feet Melee longsword +14 (good, magical, versatile P), Damage 1d8+9 slashing plus 1d6 good Ranged composite longbow +13 (deadly d10, good, magical propulsive, range increment 100 feet, volley 30 feet), Damage 1d8 +4 piercing plus 1d6 good Divine Innate Spells DC 19, attack +11 ; 3rd heal, searing light; 2nd invisibility (at will, self only), shield other; 1st bless; cantrips (3rd) guidance, light, stabilize Constant tongues Divine Rituals DC 19; 3rd geas; 2nd consecrate; 1st angelic messenger Shape Change (concentration, divine, polymorph, transmutation) The fidele changes into a humanoid, celestial, or giant eagle form. Each shape has a specific, persistant appearance. It loses its fly speed in humanoid form, but otherwise its statistics remain the same. In giant eagle form, it gains the following stat changes: speed 10 feet, fly 60 feet, Strikes beak (good, magic) +12 for 1d8+7 piercing and 1d6 good and talons (agile, good, magic) +12 for 1d6+7 slashing and 1d6 good. To My Lover's Side (divine, teleport); Requirement The fidele's bodies are more than 1,000 feet away from each other but still on the same plane. Effect The fidele can teleport to a space within 30 feet of its other body.

13th Age

Fidele Angel  Double-Strength 5th level wrecker [celestial]  Initiative: +11 Longsword +9 vs. AC - 22 damage. Natural Even Hit or Miss: The angel’s other body gains a +2 bonus to attack rolls against the target until the end of the angel’s next turn. R: Longbow +9 vs. AC - 15 damage. Ever Touching: The fidele angel has two bodies, which can act independently but share hit points and initiative. Any condition except ongoing damage which affects one body affects the other (with GM consideration. If one body is stuck because it’s grabbed by vines that doesn’t affect the other). No effect can cause one body to attack the other. To My Lover’s Side: If the fidele’s bodies are far apart from each other, the fidele can spend a quick action to teleport one of its bodies to be adjacent to the other. Resist Holy 16+. AC 21 PD 18 MD 17 HP 162

[thorntonkrell-blog-blog]

Building an Essay: From Atoms to Cells

Over the course of my writing career, I have emerged as an essayist. Each day, when I sit down to write I feel most alive and the product of that long developed discipline is the emergence of an essay rather than a plot. Continuity is an offshoot rather than a function.

When I am writing as I am at this moment right here and right now, I can almost feel a light shining down on me telling me to write now, write here.

Writing an essay is a process of transformation like the biological progression from subatomic particles to cells. Letters, syllables, words, sentences, and paragraphs all play their corresponding literal progression in creating a meaningful whole. Just as life depends on the careful assembly of atoms into cells, effective writing depends on the thoughtful organization of its components. In both biology and writing, complexity grows from simplicity, proving that the smallest units hold the greatest potential.

I've always had trouble with scientific writing. Even the smallest of things have been difficult for me to differentiate and grasp without the use of metaphor. I have a spark write now inviting me to blend essay writing with particle clarification. I understand composition on the literal level so let me apply that understanding to the biological and strive for illumination.

Every essay begins with a spark—a grasp of an idea that ignites the process. This initial thought, like a single photon of light in the vast darkness of inactivity, sets everything in motion. For me, that moment often feels like discovering the nucleus of an atom: a core idea around which everything else will orbit. From there, the process grows and organizes itself, much like life emerging from the smallest building blocks.

Writing an essay is much like building a living organism—it starts with the tiniest units and grows into a fully functioning whole. I always find this process fascinating, especially write now as I realize how much the steps of writing parallel the organization of life itself. Just as life depends on the arrangement of atoms into molecules, macromolecules, and cells, my essays emerge from the thoughtful assembly of letters into words, sentences, paragraphs, and ultimately, a cohesive essay. Through this metaphor, I see writing an essay not just as an act of communication but as a living, breathing process composed of letters, syllables, words, sentences and paragraphs.

When I start writing, I often think about letters as the smallest building blocks, like subatomic particles in the physical world. They are tiny and individually unremarkable—an “a” here, a “t” there. But just as protons, neutrons, and electrons combine to form atoms, letters combine to form words. Without letters, there would be no words, and without subatomic particles, there would be no atoms. I’ve learned that even the smallest details matter—choosing the right letter, the right punctuation, can make all the difference.

Syllables are the glue that holds letters together. I’ve always loved the way syllables create rhythm and flow, much like atomic bonds create stability and structure in molecules. When I say a word like “water,” I’m struck by how its two syllables work together to form something fluid and cohesive. Without syllables, words would crumble into meaningless fragments. To me, syllables are the unsung heroes of language, much like the bonds that hold atoms together in life’s essential molecules.

Once I’ve settled on the right letters and syllables, I’m ready to form words, the atoms of my essay. Words are small but mighty; they carry meaning and weight. A single word can evoke an emotion, paint a picture, or spark a memory. When I write, I treat words with the same care a scientist might use to study atoms, knowing that each one has the power to shape the whole. For example, the word “life” can stand alone, but when combined with others—“life changes constantly”—it becomes something greater, just as atoms form molecules.

Sentences, like molecules, are where the real magic begins. This is where individual words combine to create something functional and meaningful. I think of a sentence like “Water sustains life” as a simple but powerful molecule, much like H₂O itself. Each sentence in my essay has a purpose, whether it’s to inform, persuade, or entertain. Crafting sentences requires precision and creativity, just as forming molecules requires careful arrangement of atoms. This step is where my ideas start to take shape.

As I build my essay, paragraphs emerge, each one a macromolecule with a specialized role. Just as proteins and DNA perform essential functions in a cell, paragraphs develop distinct ideas that contribute to the essay’s overall purpose. I often think of my thesis paragraph (Writing an essay is a process of transformation, much like the progression from subatomic particles to cells etc.) as the DNA of my essay, containing the instructions that guide everything else. Supporting paragraphs are like proteins, carrying out the heavy lifting and giving the essay its structure. Without paragraphs, my essay would lack depth and coherence, just as a cell would fail without macromolecules.

Finally, I step back and look at the essay as a whole. It’s no longer just a collection of letters, words, sentences, and paragraphs; it has become a living, breathing entity, much like a cell. Each part works together harmoniously, creating something greater than the sum of its parts. Just as a cell sustains life, my essay fulfills its purpose—whether to inform, persuade, or inspire. Seeing my work as a complete unit is always a moment of pride and satisfaction.

The Role of Practice in Building an Essay

Practice is the unseen force that refines and strengthens every stage of the essay-writing process. Just as a scientist spends countless hours experimenting with subatomic particles, I’ve learned that dedicated time with letters, syllables, words, and sentences shapes my ability to construct meaningful essays. With every hour of practice, my understanding of structure deepens, and my instincts sharpen. Repeated effort allows me to experiment boldly, rearranging ideas until the essay comes alive.

Having surpassed the barrier of ten thousand hours of practice, I feel as though I’ve climbed a mountain and now stand at a higher elevation. This perspective shift has transformed my approach to writing. From this vantage point, I can see the entire landscape of my work—how every element fits together into a cohesive whole. Letters feel like old friends; syllables take on a rhythm I can almost hear before I write them; and words, once elusive, fall into place with surprising ease. My sentences evolve, no longer rigid combinations but flowing expressions of thought. With time, paragraphs transform into masterful macromolecules, each serving its purpose with precision. Practice doesn’t just help me write; it helps me build.

In the course of my ten thousand hours, I have used millions of individual letters. Each letter, no matter how small, has played a role in shaping my ideas and turning abstract thoughts into tangible words on the page. I often marvel at how these tiny elements, combined and recombined over countless hours, have created essays that feel alive with meaning. Much like the vast number of cells in a living organism, the millions of letters I’ve used are the lifeblood of my writing, each contributing to the whole.

My vision in writing is both microscopic and telescopic. On one hand, I zoom into the tiniest details, ensuring each letter and syllable works in harmony. On the other hand, I step back to view the essay as a whole, evaluating how the parts connect to create a cohesive structure. This dual perspective—the ability to focus on the smallest elements while keeping the larger purpose in mind—has been shaped by years of practice. It allows me to write with precision and clarity while maintaining the fluidity and purpose of the overall piece.

Practice is the unseen force that refines and strengthens every stage of the essay-writing process. Just as a scientist spends countless hours experimenting with subatomic particles, I’ve learned that dedicated time with letters, syllables, words, and sentences shapes my ability to construct meaningful essays. With every hour of practice, my understanding of structure deepens, and my instincts sharpen. Repeated effort allows me to experiment boldly, rearranging ideas until the essay comes alive.

Having surpassed the barrier of ten thousand hours of practice, I feel as though I’ve climbed a mountain and now stand at a higher elevation. This perspective shift has transformed my approach to writing. From this vantage point, I can see the entire landscape of my work—how every element fits together into a cohesive whole. Letters feel like old friends; syllables take on a rhythm I can almost hear before I write them; and words, once elusive, fall into place with surprising ease. My sentences evolve, no longer rigid combinations but flowing expressions of thought. With time, paragraphs transform into masterful macromolecules, each serving its purpose with precision. Practice doesn’t just help me write; it helps me build.

In the course of my ten thousand hours, I have used millions of individual letters. Each letter, no matter how small, has played a role in shaping my ideas and turning abstract thoughts into tangible words on the page. I often marvel at how these tiny elements, combined and recombined over countless hours, have created essays that feel alive with meaning. Much like the vast number of cells in a living organism, the millions of letters I’ve used are the lifeblood of my writing, each contributing to the whole.

Practice is the unseen force that refines and strengthens every stage of the essay-writing process. Just as a scientist spends countless hours experimenting with subatomic particles, I’ve learned that dedicated time with letters, syllables, words, and sentences shapes my ability to construct meaningful essays. With every hour of practice, my understanding of structure deepens, and my instincts sharpen. Repeated effort allows me to experiment boldly, rearranging ideas until the essay comes alive.

Having surpassed the barrier of ten thousand hours of practice, I feel as though I’ve climbed a mountain and now stand at a higher elevation. This perspective shift has transformed my approach to writing. From this vantage point, I can see the entire landscape of my work—how every element fits together into a cohesive whole. Letters feel like old friends; syllables take on a rhythm I can almost hear before I write them; and words, once elusive, fall into place with surprising ease. My sentences evolve, no longer rigid combinations but flowing expressions of thought. With time, paragraphs transform into masterful macromolecules, each serving its purpose with precision. Practice doesn’t just help me write; it helps me build.

Practice is the unseen force that refines and strengthens every stage of the essay-writing process. Just as a scientist spends countless hours experimenting with subatomic particles, I’ve learned that dedicated time with letters, syllables, words, and sentences shapes my ability to construct meaningful essays. With every hour of practice, my understanding of structure deepens, and my instincts sharpen. Repeated effort allows me to experiment boldly, rearranging ideas until the essay comes alive.

The more hours I dedicate to writing, the more intuitive the process becomes. Letters feel like old friends; syllables take on a rhythm I can almost hear before I write them; and words, once elusive, fall into place with surprising ease. My sentences evolve, no longer rigid combinations but flowing expressions of thought. With time, paragraphs transform into masterful macromolecules, each serving its purpose with precision. Practice doesn’t just help me write; it helps me build.

Conclusion

Writing an essay is a process of transformation, much like the progression from subatomic particles to cells. Letters, syllables, words, sentences, and paragraphs all play their part in creating a meaningful whole. This analogy has changed the way I approach writing, helping me appreciate the power of structure and connection. Just as life depends on the careful assembly of atoms into cells, effective writing depends on the thoughtful organization of its components. In both biology and writing, complexity grows from simplicity, proving that the smallest units hold the greatest potential.

[desicinema20]

"The Magic of Music in Desi Cinema: How Songs Define the Soul of Indian Films"

Introduction: No other film industry in the world celebrates music as much as Desi Cinema. Whether it's the grand, orchestrated musical numbers of Bollywood or the soulful ballads in regional films, music is the heartbeat of Indian cinema. In this post, we'll take a deep dive into how music has shaped and defined desicinema, from its early beginnings to modern-day hits.

The Role of Music in the Golden Age:

The 1950s and 1960s were a defining period for Indian film music. Music directors like S.D. Burman, Shankar Jaikishan, and Naushad composed melodies that became immortal. Songs from films like Mughal-e-Azam (1960), Awaara (1951), and Pyaasa (1957) didn’t just complement the narrative but enhanced the emotional depth of the story.

The early Bollywood musicals were often built around the songs themselves. Bollywood songs became a language in their own right, often conveying emotions too complex to be expressed through dialogue. Lata Mangeshkar and Kishore Kumar, the voices of the era, gave life to these songs, making them iconic.

The '70s and '80s: The Rise of Disco & Playback Singing:

The 1970s and 1980s saw an interesting shift in Bollywood’s musical landscape. Disco music entered the scene with tracks like I’m Your Baby Tonight from The Burning Train (1980) and Disco Dancer (1982), marking a more international sound. Meanwhile, playback singers like Kishore Kumar, Mohammad Rafi, and Asha Bhosle dominated the scene, creating songs that were as iconic as the films themselves.

In the 1980s, films like Sholay (1975), Amar Akbar Anthony (1977), and Qurbani (1980) brought forward energetic numbers that resonated with the masses, giving Bollywood a new sound. But it wasn’t just the music; the choreography, the costumes, and the setting also came to define the genre. The popularity of the "item number" emerged around this time, a tradition that continues to define Bollywood today.

The '90s: The Era of Romance and Soundtracks:

The 1990s were marked by an explosion of musical blockbusters. The classic pairing of melodious love songs with visual grandeur became a hallmark of Bollywood during this period. Composers like Jatin-Lalit, Nadeem-Shravan, and A.R. Rahman introduced a range of sounds, from the soulful romantic ballads of Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (1995) to the more contemporary pop-infused melodies of Dil Se (1998).

A.R. Rahman, in particular, revolutionized the industry with his fusion of Western and Indian music, creating scores that broke conventional barriers. His iconic work in Roja (1992) and Taal (1999) not only changed the music industry but also brought a new era of musical experimentation in Indian films.

Modern Day: The Fusion of Genres and Global Influence:

Today, Desi Cinema is characterized by a mix of traditional music with international styles. Composers like Pritam, Amit Trivedi, and A.R. Rahman continue to dominate the soundscape, but the influence of global genres like hip-hop, rap, electronic dance music (EDM), and even reggaeton can be felt in contemporary tracks. Bollywood soundtracks now embrace a wider range of genres, reflecting the evolving tastes of global audiences.

The rise of digital music platforms like Spotify and YouTube has made desicinemas film music more accessible than ever before, allowing audiences to discover and enjoy songs from all over India. In the past decade, regional cinema has seen a rise in musical experimentation as well, with composers like Ilaiyaraaja (Tamil).

Conclusion:

Music is the lifeblood of Desi Cinema. It’s what makes us laugh, cry, and dream alongside our favorite characters. From the majestic orchestral compositions of the 50s to the pulsating beats of today, the role of music in Indian cinema cannot be overstated. In Desi films, music is not just a background element—it’s an essential part of the narrative, blending seamlessly with the story to create an experience that is distinctly Indian, yet universally relatable. Whether you're humming a tune from a Bollywood blockbuster or tapping your feet to a Tamil chartbuster, music continues to be the soul of Indian cinema.

[an-ode-to-film]

Deciding to learn about film and cinema over the past few years has been incredibly rewarding. I get to see my progress in real time as I learn more and more with every film I watch. When I first started, I only knew when I did and didn’t like a film, but couldn’t exactly place what it was I did and didn’t like. But four years later, I’m more easily able to identify aspects of what I do and don’t like in film, as well as understanding so much more of the language of cinema. I understand more about pacing and framing and composition and character work and sound design and etc… It’s a really rewarding experience to watch yourself get better and better as time goes on, and I really love looking back at the films I decided to watch in the beginning and see how those shaped my taste. Idk. Being a cinephile is fun

[szczutek]

Appropriation and Fieldwork

Abigail Solomon-Godeau on The Rightness of Wrong (1997)

On John Baldessari’s Wrong. John Baldessari has been described by the Tate as combining „the narrative potential of images and the associative power of language” – starting as a painter, then combiting pre-existing images and moving to the conceptual and „questioning how I’m [making art]”  hence the creation of Wrong – a photograph of a man in a suburban neighborhood in front of a palm tree that due to the amateurish composition of the image appears to be sprouting from his head. „Conceptual art has shaped his interest in exploring how photographic images communicate, yet his work has little of the austerity usually associated with that style; instead he works with light humor, and with materials and motifs that also reflect the influence of Pop art.” (1)

•Wrong as an image intentionally flouts any rules of composition and photography: „deadpan if deceptively casual expulsion of centuries of aesthetic precepts”. Intentional failure of classical artistic legacies.

•The idea that „art objects, by definition, occupy a special and rarefied domain that differentiates aesthetic experience and reception from all other forms of perception and cognition. If we laugh at Wrong, it is because almost everyone outside the highly specialised world of elite culture believes, deeply believes, that art remains integrally linked to something called ‚Beauty’” Beauty as „one of the totemic concepts in classical art theory: each element of a work of art was supposed to be a perfect representation of its type”

•„[...] what were once academic precepts are now deeply lodged in what might be called the collective cultural preconscious: if most peoples’ snapshots do not in fact feature trees sprouting from their subjects’ heads, it is because they obey, unthinkingly, the laws of ‚right’, rather than ‚wrong’ composition.”

•„art’s pleasures take many forms (including cognitive ones)” à humour and reception, not everything requires three degrees of pretension.

Lotte Moller – Failures: Annika Strom

•„Take for instance the sequence in the music film 16 minutes (2003) [...] The images are accompanied by sad love songs [...] The sadness of the songs heavily underscores the melancholy nature of the images, which are then transformed into metaphors for lost expectations and failed relationships” à Failure requires context. It is subjective. Though „failing as an artist and failing as a human being are recurrent themes in Annika Strom’s work” it is added context of the music that truly makes the film deliver „the sensation of the world closing in on you”. Failure is not failure without perspective.

•„The misspelled text piece ‚This work refers to Joseph Kosutt’, was initially intended as a little joke about so-called ‚referentialism’ in contemporary art, but someone took the statement seriously and it ironically ended up serving as its own target. Seen from that perspective, one could say that it failed at its purpose – but it did prove a point”

Marcel Duchamps – Apropos of ‚Readymades’

Duchamps excercises authorship by taking readymade objects and artworks and altering the slightest degree. The appropriation of these objects though it may be provocative is not malicious, arguably nothing more than a Dada practice.

No comment.

FIELDWORK Task: to create an artwork appropriated from the works present in the studio.

I love the discipline of appropriation. Recontextualising art and photographs, developing meta-meanings. It is a discipline with impactful results when done well.

Take for example Sherrie Levine's After Walker Evans - the unadulterated appropriation of an image recontextualised by a title, which in three words deliveres more critical thought than its original. Compare with Adrian Ghenie's Lenin's Eyes - a very simply altered found image of Lenin, offering more visual conversation, but with a title so obvious it maintains ambiguity. The conversation with Sherrie Levine is made very clear: what has changed after Walker Evans? Nothing in theory; the woman in question still endures the same struggles in the same environment. Her publicity has not reached her pocket. How about Lenin's eyes? Do they talk in the same way? Has Ghenie created a wall between the great dictator and the viewer, or is he reiterating: 'Big Brother is watching'? Themes of appropriation particulary in works like those of Adrian Ghenie and the Cluj School where it is more implicit than a statement piece are something I would be very keen to pursue in more depth.

[newmusicradionetwork]

Michael Isaak Soothes The Past With “hey boy”

Mirroring his intimate reflection of personal growth and self-assurance, Michael Isaak has released his new single, “hey boy.” This moving track serves as a love letter to his younger self, encapsulating the universal experience of growing up and finding one’s path. “hey boy” is the final single to be released ahead of his forthcoming debut EP, Forever is a Scary Word. Stream it now on all platforms worldwide. Inspired by a reflective moment looking back at his childhood bed, “hey boy” is a poignant composition, a song about sending good wishes to the younger versions of oneself. “I wonder if I can channel that young person in his sophomore year of Catholic school and tell him it’ll all be okay,” Isaak muses. The song embodies the message that everything, in the end, works out, and the challenges of the past pave the way for the strength of the future. With gentle acoustic melodies and earnest lyrics, “hey boy” is a tender reminder that, while we cannot speak to our past selves, we can honor them through understanding and love. “There’s so much I would say to my younger self, and I wish I could, but I’m also quite confident he’ll be able to figure it all out on his own. ‘Hey boy, I love you…'” Isaak reflects. The song is a touching ode to personal growth, resilience, and the enduring power of self-love. As listeners embark on this musical journey with Isaak, they are invited to extend compassion to their past selves and recognize the strength that comes from overcoming life’s challenges. “hey boy” was produced by Owen Korzec and Michael Isaak, and features instrumentals from guitarist Declan Fine. Having grown up in a religious Egyptian-American community, his upcoming EP, Forever Is A Scary Word, delves into the tensions between honoring tradition and seeking freedom. Isaak’s ethnic background brings a fresh twist to the Western indie genre. His early exposure to Arabic music, combined with self-taught skills in various instruments and music production, and his love of modern indie folk and pop artists like Sufjan Stevens and Phoebe Bridgers, has shaped his distinctive musical voice. Beginning his musical career with the original song “fabricated love story” in August 2021, Isaak describes the progression over several years: “Producing music throughout my adolescence evolved from a weekly stress-buster, to an intimate friend—to whom I could express my emotions in a language of my own design.” Isaak’s academic pursuits at Princeton briefly took him away from his musical passions, but the pull of creativity led him back home to LA. Since his return, he has made significant strides, releasing multiple singles, including the EP’s lead single “okay with this” earlier this year, accumulating over 80,000 streams, and performing at renowned LA venues like The Hotel Cafe, The Viper Room, and The Whisky A Go Go. “hey boy” is available now on all major streaming platforms. Join Michael Isaak in this heartfelt exploration of self-discovery and compassion, and discover the power of music to heal and uplift the soul. To keep up with his journey, follow him on Instagram @Michaelisaakk and check out his website www.Michaelisaak.us. Read the full article

[nellycanwrite]

hello po ate! halos magkasing edad lang po tayo pero amazed po ako sa experience nyo po! any tips po for writing and drawing po? thank you!!!!

English translations provided for my non-Filipino audiences below.

Oh my god I am weak to people calling me ate NDBSHWHSHSUW 🥺🤲 HELLO THERE LANGGAAAA🥰💘 

For tips, well, there’s nothing much to say really except practice! It took me years to be at the level I am now. All I needed was a bit of patience, dedication, and discipline!

For starters (and a short disclaimer), I am by no means a professional artist nor am I a professional writer. Despite how people say I’m already good at what I do, I’m still studying to become better. 

I’ve already started drawing and writing since sixth grade. I practiced everyday until I could really say I’m good enough for my standards. My writing is initially for academic purposes (since I have been trained specifically for journalism, specifically radio broadcasting and news writing), but it somehow turned into a love for creative writing. I only started doing art again in 2020, so my methods might not be as effective for me as it is for you. My methods for improving on art and writing are the same, but I’ll go ahead and expound!

1. Find Works that Inspire You the Most and Study Them. 

For Writing: This doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll go ahead and do an academic study for each piece of literature that you find interesting (but it does help to do so!) I graduated as a Humanities and Social Studies student, so it was inevitable that I had to do an academic study on literature. I didn’t like it at first, but I soon found it extremely helpful in my writing! I came to love analyzing literary works and devices—particularly Edgar Allan Poe’s works—and binged read his pieces! Later on, I tried to emulate his style of writing with my own works until I found my own writing style that I quite liked! This doesn’t only apply to classic literature, reading works from your favorite authors, digital or otherwise, is just as effective too! I got inspired by @clichejoe‘s way of writing and really studied it first before I dived into my current fic! @breannaaiedail​‘s excellent weaving of emotion to their writing was most helpful as well to get an insight on how feelings intertwine with words.

For Drawing: My style of drawing is first inspired by anime, the splash art I see in games, and DnD artworks. I was addicted to RossDraws’ style and tried doing the things that he does. But as soon as I realized that my artstyle doesn’t really suit me as much, I tried to change it up and apply my own little tweaks on top of his own teachings. I don’t have much to say with my first stages of art because I just basically…went for it. I saw those Pinterest tutorials on anatomy and made my own style based on those foundations. I just kept drawing and drawing and drawing until it just became a part of me. After I decided to pursue art as a career, I went into a deep dive and visited the foundations of what art really is. That meant reading books about anatomy, color theory, composition, and shape language. I took a lot of my inspiration from my fellow artist friends and basically just picked up bits and pieces of my style and applied them to my works. Allan Becker’s character design prowess always appealed to me and I’m aiming to have Max Grecke’s style of rendering and shape language! Loish is where I find a better understanding of color and character simplification. If I need inspiration, I always go to @cheesy-cryptid‘s works and just stare at her amazing composition and colors! At one point, I wanted a semi-realistic style of art. But I just want to yoink her art skills and apply it to my own!

2. Practice. 

For Writing: You don’t become a good author overnight. I can’t even say that I’m a good enough author by my own standards yet. You might be wondering, how do I practice writing? Well, just start clicking away on your keyboard! Inspiration comes and goes as it pleases, so use that opportunity to start writing! You can write drabbles of the most fun ideas! You can search up a drabble list and start there! Remember, your imagination is limitless. Start practicing there and write everything that comes on top of your head no matter how weird it sounds! My method of practice is fairly simple: I find the most mundane thing I could find and make it sound interesting; 

The pen. It is mightier than the sword. Yet whose hand grips this mighty weapon? The just? The wicked, the pure? Or is it the harbinger of death whose tip holds the fate of heroes of the unknown?

For Drawing: Practice. Practice. PRACTICE. In art, there is no easy way in. There are no cheats, there are no artist hacks, it is the acquisition of skill through constant practice. A hard pill to swallow to some people is that they wouldn’t get better even with how much they tried despite not even trying to practice. Start off with knowing the fundamentals of drawing; anatomy, composition, and perspective. Even if you say you already know this stuff, trust me, you don’t. Do art studies, observe how everything interacts with another, and just start grabbing that pen or stylus and draw. Draw what you feel like you wanna draw at the moment. Draw that prompt you always liked. Draw your crush. Draw the plants in your house. Draw fanart of your favorite character even! Consistency makes quality work, and all you have to do is be patient with yourself. If that didn’t motivate you to practice, look at my art from 2020 to present. I did consistent practice every day and did studies, watched tutorials, and just had an “I’m going to improve by practicing” mindset. Now it led me here. Just practice, practice, practice! You won’t get better by just sitting and waiting on a miracle. You gotta do it yourself!

3. Don’t be Discouraged. 

For Writing: Like I said, you don’t become a good author overnight. It takes time, patience, and dedication. If you see someone write better than you, don’t be discouraged. Behind every excellence is a thousand failures. It takes trial and error to become a good creator. It doesn’t matter if you write bad or fail; everyone fails at some point! The most important thing is how you should get back up on your feet and continue your journey. Take your time, set your own pace. Don’t be discouraged.

For Drawing: Oh boy do I have an experience for you. I actually just started doing digital art last 2020. I had to stop drawing because of the usual “there’s no living in art” mentality, but here I am today and taking up BA Multimedia Arts in college despite my peers wanting me to become a lawyer. The struggle I had as a 17 year old artist at the time was that everyone was so much better than me. Even the 12 year old kiddoes are better at rendering than I am. But I used that feeling of envy as motivation: if they can produce banger art, then why can’t I? So I practiced and took inspiration from those instead of being discouraged! Just continue the grind and I’m sure you’ll improve!

This came out longer than I intended it to be, so I apologize for that SOBS. I just love talking about stuff like these! 

Translations:

The ask: Hello! We’re almost the same age but I’m already amazed at your experiences! Any tips for writing and drawing? Thank you!!! 

Ate (ah-teh) is used to refer to a girl or a woman older than you. The literal translation is "big sister". 

Langga (lang-gah) is used as a term of endearment for someone younger than you. It can used to refer to people platonically, in a familial sense, or in some cases, romantically. The tone used for this ask is platonic.

[biletdoux]

stages of love | j.jh

Pairing | jung jaehyun (nct) + female!reader Rating | M Genre + Tropes | college!au, romance (angst, fluff, smut) Warnings | explicit language, alcohol consumption, instant love?, sexual content (drunk sex, receiving and giving oral, penetration, cow girl position, nipple play), greyzone fidelity Length | 15k+

Summary | A playlist for the trials and tribulations of a beating heart

(Or; your relationship with Jung Jaehyun in ten songs.)

Note: ahhhhhhh!!!! we finally did it boisssss. this fic has been a long time coming and honestly im sick and tired of jaehyun. i’ve spent too long thinking about him for this fic smh. this is also my first time writing smut so we’ll see how that goes lmao. anyway this was a long labor of love so please let me know what you thought of it !!! <333

1. Peach by IU

smitten at first sight.

“How can I explain this feeling?”

“Alright, I think that sums up about everything we need to cover for today’s lecture. Remember, most of this will be on your final exam. Any questions before you’re all dismissed?” 

Your professor looks up from the board, scans the room and all he sees are most of the students waiting with bated breath, itching to leave the class, and half of those students having already packed their belongings in anticipation. He held them back an extra twenty five minutes today, which is notably longer than previous lectures in which he delayed dismissal.

“Okay, you’re free to go. Chapters nineteen and twenty are due the next time we meet.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief, ready to head out with the rest of the class. You like Professor Jang and find that he makes history somewhat digestible, but he has a tendency to lose track of time, which is inconvenient, but more so today since you have agreed to meet up with Yeri. You glance at your phone to see text notifications and curse to yourself. You’re already ten minutes late and Yeri is many things and impatient is one of them. 

You’re one of the first out of the small lecture hall and you shoot her a quick reply before making your way to the oncampus cafe. Through quickened strides and shortcuts engrained from cross-campus treks from class to class, you arrive in record time. You’re slightly out of breath and impressed by your speed, but you stop, frozen in your tracks when you see Yeri’s displeased face. You find her situated in a small, but cozy corner next to the windows, already unpacked with notebooks and papers strewn on the desk ready to review for exams. It's one of the best study spots in the cafe and you immediately know your best friend had to come extra early to nab such a sought after table. 

“About time,” she scowls, “what took you so long?”

You shoot her an apologetic look, “aww, Yeri,” you pout your lips a little too dramatically, “I’m sorry. I just came from history and you know how Professor Jang is.” 

Yeri looks at your jutted lips in disgust, but then her face softens in consideration. “Hm, I do know Jang.” She scrunches up her nose remembering her time in his class last semester. “That old man can talk for days on end and he never lets anyone leave class early. I guess I’ll let you go this time.” 

You beam at her knowing she’s no longer angry for your tardiness. “Great, drinks are on me today. It’s the least I can do for being late.” Yeri forgives as easily and as quickly as she loses her temper. You learned this after a few weeks of being her roommate. 

Yeri says nothing in silent agreement and you place your stuff down across the table next to the chair she reserves for you. You pull out your wallet and weave through the packed cafe to head to the order counter. The line is long and you patiently review the menu. Your roommate has consistent tastes and always orders a vanilla frappuccino regardless of which cafe she goes to, but you base your decision on your mood. You mull over your choices and by the time you reach the barista taking your order, you decide you’re in an ‘iced Americano’ kind of mood today. You have exams on top of exams you need to review for and a stronger caffeine kick is much needed.

After paying, you head back to the table with two drinks in tow. Yeri takes her drink and after you both take a few sips and catch up for the day, you dive straight to work. The two of you decide to review for statistics. 

Between re-summarizing chapters and answering review questions, you muse to yourself about how your college experience thus far hasn't been that much different from your high school life. You didn’t necessarily hate high school, per say, but it was safe to say you didn’t enjoy it. Your heart was in the arts, specifically music, and you had found studying the core subjects to be boring and tedious. You remember being ecstatic to have been accepted and enrolled in a performing arts college, foolishly thinking your days of solving differential equations and memorizing chemical formulas were over. You specifically remember daydreaming of your hours being filled with keyboard practice and composition notes and only such things. Somehow the reality of mandatory general education courses slipped your mind when you constructed such fantasies.

Despite frivolous and preconceived notions of college, you have already survived a semester and you are nearly through your second. 

“Hey, do you remember when this stats assignment is due?” Yeri’s inquiring voice snaps you out of your brief reverie and you search your cluttered brain for a date.

“Uh, I think it’s due, like, a few days before the final, but I’d have to double check.” 

Yeri nods. “Alright, well let’s take a small break. We have some time till then, we don’t have to finish all of it today.” 

You happily agree and set down your pen. Yeri takes a sip of her frappuccino and you lean over the table to get closer to her. “Anyway, did you hear about what happened with Jiwon and Youngjae from the entertainment management department?”

Her eyes glisten with wicked interest. “No. Do tell.”

Break time is always synonymous with gossip hour between you and Yeri. 

You spend the next fifteen minutes dishing what you know and Yeri offers her own input whenever she feels fit. 

“And they think they’re being discreet, but the whole dorm knows they’ve been sneaking around, but guess wha─” Before you can finish your sentence, you are cut off by a loud and energetic voice calling out Yeri’s name.

The two of you look up to see a slim and boyish brunet waving to Yeri and excitedly making his way to your table. He looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t quite place your finger on it, so you let it go.

He smiles happily at Yeri and greets her. “Hey Yeri, how’s it going?” He notices you there and gives you a polite wave, which you return in the same manner.

Yeri replies back breezily, but with her full attention. “Good. Did you need anything, Mark?” 

He flushes just the slightest bit, but it doesn’t escape your eyes. “Erm, nothing I just wanted to remind you that we’re meeting for the music theory project tomorrow at four. I would’ve texted, but I forgot to get your number in class, and I saw you here and thought it was a good opportunity to tell you.” 

Yeri’s eyes widen, “ah right! I completely forgot about it. It’s a good thing you found me here today, huh? Here, I’ll give you my number.”

She reaches her hand out her hand expectantly, and Mark is confused before scrambling to pull out his phone. You can tell Mark looks flustered while Yeri is calmly putting in her contact information. After finishing, she hands his phone back, “okay, all set. Just shoot me a text so I have your number as well. Thanks for reminding me today or I probably would’ve forgotten and not have shown up or something.” 

Mark smiles again, this time a little more sure than before. “All good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Yeri.” 

They wave goodbye and you watch Mark scamper from the cafe. Your eyes follow him, but Yeri is already focused on you again, paying Mark’s retreating form no mind. 

“So…” you start.

“So?” She returns.

“He’s cute.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she shrugged. “I barely know him though. We have music theory together, but this is the first time we’ve talked all semester and we’re only talking because we got paired up for a project.”

Yeri seems apathetic and you study her closely. You notice she’s acting a little too stiffly carefree to be truly indifferent to the situation. You can’t help, but to tease her a bit. “Well, make the most out of this project then.”

Yeri gives you a hard look and you decide to let it go despite finding your best friend’s situation to be amusing. 

“Anyway, keep telling me about Jiwon and Youngjae. You never finished.” Yeri changes the topic, knowing that you might decide to pester her again if she doesn’t.

“As I was saying,” you started up again. A figure outside catches your attention and you peer outside through the window past Yeri’s shoulders. You realize it’s Mark and you watch with interest as he gestures excitedly, pointing to something in his hand, you assume his phone, to some of his friends. From there your eyes wander absentmindedly from one person to the next, and it’s when you see him. 

The reaction is almost instantaneous. 

“Like you were saying?” Yeri urges, but her words fall on deaf ears, for all your attention is captured by the boy next to Mark with heart-shaped lips.

When you see said boy laugh, you notice he has moon for eyes and you unconsciously suck in a sharp breath. You must have been staring too intently without noticing because he turns his head in your direction and you two hold direct eye contact. Like a deer caught in headlights, you freeze and lose all rational thought. Your head is completely blank. You have never seen someone so beautiful and your mind does not know how to process any sensory information at the moment.

Someone calls the boy away and the entire group of friends leave. It’s only then do you find yourself releasing a breath you didn’t know you had been holding onto so tightly. Your heart is pounding and you feel as though blood is rushing through your ears. 

“Hello?” Yeri sounds annoyed, but you struggle to find the words to answer her. 

You feel a sudden heat rush to color your cheeks a vibrant red and a feeling surges through you that leaves you out of breath and weak at the knees. A steady warmth washes over you quietly and you feel it deep within yourself and you can’t help but let out a small laugh.

How silly, you muse. Not to be dramatic, but you think you’re in love.

2. Shadow by f(x)

adoration from afar. 

“I’m really really into you.”

The next few weeks are packed to the brim with assignments and papers, but despite this, you still find time for your personal research into the boy who was with Mark that day. 

Being the obvious first and easiest option, you beg Yeri to ask Mark directly about his friend, but she immediately shoots you down. 

“No. Absolutely not. At least not anytime soon anyway,” she huffs. “I’ve barely held two full conversations with him, like hell the next is gonna be about his friend just cause my best friend started thirsting over him after one glance. I mean come on, girl.” She shakes her head at you. 

Yeri’s right and you apologize to her for being thoughtless of her situation. She doesn’t say it, but she seems really hopeful about the music theory project and what might bloom from it. You would not want to impede on such possibilities of happiness for your friend, so you let that option go, but Yeri promises to help in other ways and she does. 

Somehow between caffeine fueled cram sessions and sleep deprivation, you, with Yeri’s help manage to find out more about the boy. You casually ask around in your contemporary writing and production department and she offers help by searching her vocal performance department. 

You find out his name is Jung Jaehyun and he’s a third year in the musical theatre department and that he’s a member of the local chapter of the performing arts fraternity on campus. You also discover his Instagram handle and you find yourself skimming through his page throughout the day more often  than you’re willing to admit to any living soul. 

You occasionally see him around campus since you first saw him at the cafe and each time, you can feel your heart hammer in your chest and you become so flustered to the point of your sympathetic nervous system activating. Unfortunately for you, your body unconsciously chooses flight each and every time at the sight of Jaehyun because you can always feel your knees go weak and your body lurch away to escape in any direction that isn’t Jaehyun’s. You kind of hate yourself each time you do, but you can’t help it. He’s just so pretty that it’s intimidating!

You try to think positive after the bouts of shame you experience after each escapade. 

Well there’s no way to embarrass yourself in front of him if you run away before having the chance to, right?

Even thinking about it now in the comfort of your bed, you can’t shake your self-consciousness and bury your face in a large pillow resting on your knees. Your cheeks are burning and you don’t know what to do. 

“Hey, why don’t you just talk to him, instead of moping all day and stalking his profile like a creep.” Yeri’s crisp words cut through your musings and you glance up to see her entering your shared room in the dorms.

“Shut up. It’s not like I have a benevolent match-making professor who happens to pair me up with my crush for an end-of-semester project.” You retort back before sighing dramatically, “I literally have no excuse to talk to him. We’re not in the same year or major. We don’t even have mutual friends. Unless, y’know, you and Mark hit it off, who knows.” 

Yeri sits down next to you on your small twin bed, resting her head on your shoulder while letting out an equally dramatic sigh, “yeah, well, Mark’s so dense, all the divine intervention in the world isn’t going to help me.” 

You let out snort, “what’s up with you two anyway?”

“Y’know, I could’ve sworn he was into me and I had a chance with him, but every time we meet up we literally only work on the project and nothing else. Every time I sort of tried to do something I get shot down. Like I told him I was kind of chilly today in the library, and he looks all thoughtful for a moment but all he ends up saying is ‘yeah, all the buildings on campus are always cold, huh? Good thing I always bring a jacket with me. You should bring one too next time, I don’t want you getting cold.’ And then he just turns back to the project like nothing. Can you believe him?” Yeri complains and you swear her annoyance is palpable. “And every time I text him to hangout, he thinks it’s to work on the project. I honestly can’t tell if he’s really that stupid or if he’s just not into me.” 

You laugh at her unfortunate, but undeniable state of love affairs. 

“Really? That bad? I remember him being all blushy when he asked for your number,” you recall. “And you should’ve seen how he looked when he showed off he got your number. Well that’s what it looked like anyway, I could be wrong.”

“Well, at least I’ll get a good grade though. Mark is nothing if not diligent and hard-working, with him being a double major and all.” Yeri sounds resigned however, she sighs again, this time more frustrated and you hear the determination in her voice. “Alright, after finals, for sure we’re gonna hit the clubs. We need to let loose, have some fun.”

You agree with her to appease her short temper, but deep down you feel disappointed. You feel sorry for your friend, having genuinely wanted Mark and her to work out, but a small and selfish part of you felt sorry for having no bridge to Jaehyun at all if it didn’t work out between Yeri and Mark. Looks like you were stranded now and you’d have to find a way to Jaehyun one way or another, but your line of help ends here.

Shaking away such negative thoughts, you think to yourself how soju bombs and dance floors don’t so bad after such an intense exam period after all. It will definitely take your mind off of things for sure.

And even though you say this to yourself, you know your mind will still be plagued with Jung Jaehyun no matter how much you try.

3. What Is Love by EXO-K

careful contemplation. 

“I can’t explain what I feel.”

“Mark, tell me you did not.” The disbelief in Johnny’s voice made the situation all the more hilarious and even Jaehyun, who’s the calmer of the two, couldn’t suppress the guffaw from escaping his lips. 

The tips of Mark’s ears flush a light pink and he tries to deliver a convincing argument, but all that comes out is a meek stammer, further driving Johnny up the wall.

When Mark came up to his and Johnny’s room asking for advice, Jaehyun had an idea of where it was going to lead, considering Mark’s clueless disposition and inexperienced track record, but Jaehyun had no idea it was going to be this bad. 

Mark, having developed a crush on a fellow vocal performance major in his music theory class, came to Johnny, his frat big, to spill his guts and ask for advice constantly. Being Johnny’s roommate, meant Jaehyun was also privy to all the details of Mark’s love life and he had no problem giving advice to the amusing first year student, which Mark appreciated because going to Johnny meant a clowning session before he could get any useful nuggets of information. 

When Mark’s music theory professor randomly assigned the two for the end of semester project, Mark was one part excited and two parts nervous, resulting in a frazzled mess. He has been going up to the second room on the right of the second floor of the frat house almost every other day to ask for advice since then. 

Johnny was thrilled when he initially heard of the project, already envisioning his little’s love prospects, stating something along the lines of “my little’s gonna get laid!” 

However, now looking at Johnny rubbing his temples in exasperation, Jaehyun can tell that his roommate’s initial enthusiasm has dissipated. 

Mark’s daily roadblock today consisted of his crush giving him the cold shoulder and being much more snappy than before in the project meet up earlier. Mark recalls Yeri’s anger toward him and racks his brain for an answer. Even Johnny and Jaehyun are stumped at the sudden behavior, assuming that things were going smoothly from Mark’s previous reports filled with clumsy, but endearing and ultimately positive signs. It’s only when Mark offhandedly mentions her so-called ‘strange’ comment about the temperature, does it become clear why Yeri’s attitude suddenly shifted so drastically.

“I mean, I don’t know what I did wrong.” Mark’s second attempt to defend himself has Johnny flaring his nostrils in indignation and Jaehyun has to turn away in an attempt to stifle his laughter.

“Dude, she’s so into you. Or, at least she was, I don’t know about it anymore.” Johnny starts after calming down. “She left herself wide open for you to take a clear shot and you effectively said to her face, ‘thanks but no thanks’ and then walked away. No wonder she’s pissed, I’d be pissed too.” 

“Well, what was I supposed to do then?” Mark counters. 

“Mark,” Johnny begins, his tone dry and coarse, “you’re killing me.”

Jaehyun deems this the perfect time to step in, the laughter about done coursing through his system at this point. He clears his throat before offering his input, “It’s not too, too bad. Johnny’s just being dramatic. If she likes you enough, she’ll probably forgive you if you play your cards right from here on out.” 

Mark perks up, his attention solely on Jaehyun. 

Jaehyun hums absentmindedly to himself, gathering and organizing his thoughts to properly explain exactly where and how Mark went wrong and what to do moving forward. When Jaehyun opens his mouth to speak, Mark is glued on to every word and Jaehyun can see the gears in his brain whirring at high speeds. 

By the time Jaehyun is done, Johnny has calmed down and Mark nods his head fervently in understanding. 

“Ah, that makes so much sense now! I got it now.” 

Despite his assurances, both Johnny and Jaehyun know Mark will be back soon. 

“Alright little, listen up,” Johnny starts. “Here’s the game plan from here on out.” 

Johnny goes off on a sermon, determined to help his little ‘get some’ as Johnny so delicately puts it. Jaehyun can see it’s not the most tasteful of word choice for Mark to hear, but the youngest says nothing. 

Lounging lazily in the bean bag on his side of the room, Jaehyun knocks his head back and thinks of a few weeks back when he accompanied Mark and some other frat members to the rec center for some basketball. Jaehyun remembers Mark was bemoaning the fact he forgot to ask for some girl’s number and it was as if a higher entity heard the boy’s laments and felt especially gracious, because right as they were passing the cafe, Mark stopped in his tracks and suddenly ran off into the busy building. 

The group of frat boys watched him excitedly weave his way through the crowd of bodies and occupied tables to reach a table with two girls. When they saw the girl putting her number into Mark’s phone, Johnny elbowed Jaehyun, and like a proud parent Johnny exaggeratedly acknowledged his little. “They grow up so fast, don’t they, Jaehyun.” Johnny even wiped an imaginary tear from his eye to really send the message home.

It was only a few moments later and Mark came bounding out of the cafe, eager to show everyone how lucky it was that he happened to see her. “I mean what are the odds, right?” the said boy exclaimed so happily, his cheer so infectious, Jaehyun couldn’t help himself from letting out a laugh of his own. 

Jaehyun turned to give Mark an encouraging pat on the back and it’s when he notices a pair of eyes on him. He turns fully to come in the direct line of sight of a girl whose eyes, Jaehyun imagined to have been very warm, had they not been burning holes into him. Her intense gaze slightly unnerved him, but not to the point of pulling away. He found himself entranced and the only thing that broke the quick spell was Johnny’s voice, calling him to move it along. 

Jaehyun recalls easily breaking eye contact and giving little thought to the strange girl with fire for eyes, but as the days passed, Jaehyun couldn’t shake the thought of her from his mind. 

Even now in the comfort of his room and with Johnny and Mark not even a foot away, carefully planning Mark’s love endeavors, all Jaehyun’s mind can really focus on is the thought of you. 

Jaehyun is sure he’s only looked at you for less than a minute, but somehow he’s able to clearly trace out the image of you that day, like a perfect snapshot. 

“Yo Jaehyun,” Johnny calls. “You good? You’ve been spacing out, bro.”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Jaehyun answers offhandedly, before contemplating to himself. Was he good? Jaehyun wouldn’t necessarily say he’s bad in any way, but it isn’t normal for him to have the thought of a girl remain so clearly engraved in his mind for so long, and even less common for it to actually be a girl he doesn’t even know nonetheless. It’s not a pressing issue, but it does bother him. He weighs over the next steps in his mind. 

“Alright, just making sure.”

With one last thought, Jaehyun concludes to himself that it’s time to tackle his concern at hand head-on. 

“Actually,” he starts, “Mark, do you remember the girl next to Yeri the day you asked for her number?” 

Mark quirks his head in thought and Jaehyun can see Johnny raise his eyebrows in sudden interest. 

“Uh kinda,” Mark answers. “I think she’s a CWP major. I’m pretty sure we shared an arranging class last semester, but like, I don’t know her personally or anything; it was a large lecture. To be honest, I don’t even think she recognized me at all, judging from her reaction that day. Why, what’s up?”

Jaehyun nods, absorbing the information, giving Johnny ample time to fire away. 

“Yeah Jaehyun,” Jaehyun can visualize the glint in Johnny’s eyes just from hearing his mischievous tone. “What is up? I haven’t seen you ask about a girl in a hot minute. Thought you suddenly went abstinent without telling me or something.”

Jaehyun isn’t quite sure how to reply. Without a doubt you were cute to Jaehyun and he wouldn’t be opposed for things to happen between the two of you, but he doesn’t even know you! Well, not that it’s been a problem for Jaehyun in the past, but your lingering presence bothers him in ways he cannot communicate. Why is that the thought of you won’t leave him and why does it bother him so much?

Jaehyun decides to be straightforward, as straightforward as his muddled brain allows him to be. “She’s cute. I wanna get to know her.” 

“Okay, Jaehyun.” Johnny whoops obnoxiously. “I see you.” 

Mark is surprised and suddenly Johnny is all fired up again. Abruptly, Johnny shoots up and the determination that burns in his eyes is admirable. 

“I’ve got it!” He declares proudly. 

Jaehyun and Mark are quiet, waiting patiently for him to continue. They say nothing, knowing there is not a thing that can reach him when Johnny gets like this. 

“We’re throwing a party and you bet your ass your two girls are gonna be there.”

4. Heaven by Ailee

walking on Cloud 9. 

“When I hear your voice, it feels like I’m dreaming.”

You look up at the two-story house before you and wonder how you got here. Actually, you don’t wonder at all because you know exactly how you ended up at the steps of the local performing arts fraternity at your college, but you sigh regardless, as if someone had weaseled you into being here. Your nerves gnaw at you and you feel your stomach doing all types of aerobic tricks, the feeling reminiscent of the sensation before the roller coaster drops. 

Yeri grabs your hand and pulls you excitedly to the front door. You can feel the thrum of music emanating from the building.  

You recall how Yeri almost jumped you to tell the good news. 

Finals flew by without any major hitches, ignoring sleepless nights and caffeine crashes. You don’t know how you’ll do, but you’re satisfied with your exam performances. You were in the clear and were just waiting for Yeri to present her joint music theory project before the both of you could finally let loose as a celebration to end the school year. 

You waited for her outside of the classroom building as promised, playing with your phone to past time until you were suddenly engulfed by a delighted pair of arms. Yeri hugged you tight; she was in high spirits, seemingly from acing her presentation and you hugged her back in congratulations. She pulled at you closer and whispered in your ears, “just say yes.” 

You were confused, but looked up to see Mark headed toward the two you. Yeri released you, leaving one arm still slung casually over your shoulder.

“Hey guys. My frat’s throwing a party tonight to celebrate finishing exams. I was wondering if, uh, you guys wanted to come? I mean you don’t have to, it’s totally optional.” 

You didn’t say anything at first and Yeri interjected, “Of course!” She smiled at you innocently despite harshly pinching you to respond, her action hidden from Mark’s sight. “We’d love to, right?”

“Uh,” you answered distractedly. “Y-yeah, sure.” 

“Great.” Mark beamed. “Party starts at eight. I gotta go help set up, so I’ll see ya there!” 

And with that, he left as soon as he arrived and you looked at Yeri questioningly for answers. “I thought we were hitting downtown tonight. What happened to club hopping?” 

Yeri smiled devilishly, “change of plans. I’ll tell you more about it later. The most important thing is finding the perfect outfit for you tonight, cause Jaehyun’s gonna be there.” 

And so, here you find yourself dressed in high-waisted shorts and a cute top that took an embarrassingly long time to decide on. You are greeted by the fraternity president at the door of the house, Taeyong you think his name is, and he gives you two a quick verbal tour of the place, really emphasizing where to get drinks. Yeri thanks him for the both of you and you enter the crowded house. You think at least half of the performing art majors must’ve been here judging by the sheer volume of packed bodies. 

You remember Yeri explaining how she and Mark may have been making a breakthrough and this party was imperative for its success. You were completely okay attending for that reason alone, because after all, what kind of person sends her best friend to a frat party alone? However, your resolve to go was set in stone after she explained that the frat that was throwing the party just happened to be the same frat Jaehyun was a member of. 

“And y’know, seeing as how you’ve been obsessing over him the past few weeks, it’s the perfect opportunity.” 

You frown remembering her words and make your way to the kitchen with Yeri in tow. Various beverages, alcoholic and non-alcoholic, crowd the table and you recognize the guy standing nearby idly chatting with others. It’s Jaemin, an acting major in your history lecture with whom you frequently exchange notes with when either one of you decides to flake for the day. You vaguely recall him mentioning his fraternity association, but didn’t realize it happened to be this one. He sees the two of you approaching the drink table and he smiles widely.

“Oh hey, what’s up?” Jaemin greets casually. “Didn’t expect to see you here. How’d you think you did in the history final?” 

You groan. “I don’t even want to talk about it. What’s important is that we’re finished and I won’t ever have to think about the WWII timeline for, hopefully, forever.”

“Amen,” Jaemin laughs. “I’ll drink to that.” He raises up his red solo cup to cheers, before realizing both you and Yeri had nothing to drink. 

“Oh shit, I’m a pretty bad host, huh? First thing I should've done was get you two something to drink.” He chides himself, but his tone is playful. “What can I get for you, ladies?”

Before you can think about what you want, Yeri cuts you off, her tone matching Jaemin’s. “How about some shots to start off and we’ll forgive the lack of hospitality.”

Jaemin laughs again. “Alright, I like it.” His hands are adept at weaving around the table and finding the paper shot cups and the vodka. “Svedka’s okay, right?” 

“We’re not picky.” You and Yeri agree. You take the shot in one gulp and the unpleasant burning in your throat makes you wince. 

“Can I get you two anything else?” 

“Yeah,” you say. “I think another shot and then a mixed drink. Anything’s fine, but preferably on the stronger side.” You look over at Yeri and she nods in agreement.

“Coming right up.” Jaemin agrees easily. 

He pours the two of you another shot and you think he must be a generous guy because the shot is overflowing. You and Yeri cheer once more while Jaemin gets to work mixing a cherry bourbon with some Coke. He tops off the drinks with some ice before handing it over to the both of you. “Here they are. Enjoy, ladies.”

You thank him and take a sip before excusing yourself to make your way around the party. The drink is sweet and the smoky aftertaste of the bourbon gives it a pleasant edge. You and Yeri are attached to the hip as you drift from one part to another around the party, making easy going small talk along the way. You are sufficiently buzzed by this point and feel much lighter as though the party was somehow two degrees removed from your senses. You look over to check on Yeri and she’s noticeably drunker than you are, giggling about the simplest of things and slurring her words just the slightest bit. You make a mental note to ease the drinking, wanting to be sober enough to look after her in case anything were to arise. 

The two of you are at the base of the stairs when you hear Mark’s voice calling Yeri’s name. You turn your attention upward to see him ambling down the stairs with excited fervor. His cheeks are flushed, more so than usual around Yeri, and you can tell it’s due to alcohol because Mark is holding her hands and you know he can never be so bold without the help of liquid courage. 

“Yo Mark, slow down there.” A voice calls out and you look up again and you feel your breath caught in your throat. 

There in front of your eyes is Jung Jaehyun in the flesh. He looks heavenly dressed in simple jeans and a white tee. You unconsciously swallow the lump in your throat and your heart beat gallops a mile a minute in your chest. Your mouth goes dry and you mindlessly gulp down swigs of your drink. You know Yeri would’ve sniggered at your current state had she not been so tipsy and completely preoccupied with Mark. 

Jaehyun catches up to Mark and when he reaches the base of the stairs, he notices the two of you.

“Oh Jaehyun, lemme introduce you guys.” 

As promised, Mark introduces everyone quickly and Jaehyun shoots a smile that seems to be aimed at you. “Nice to meet everyone.” 

“Cool, now that everyone knows each other,” Mark starts. “Yeri, can I show you something?” 

“Uh, y-yeah.” 

You give Yeri a hard look and she takes your hand to squeeze it in reassurance. She looks at you pleadingly and there’s a confidence in her eyes that you can’t argue with. You relent and let her go. 

Mark takes her by the hand and leads her up the stairs while you watch, slightly worried. 

Jaehyun seems to have sensed your apprehension because the words that leave his mouth snaps you out of your perturbed state. “Don’t worry. Mark’s a good kid, you have nothing to worry about. You have my word on it.” 

And suddenly the situation dawns on you. The boy of your recent all-consuming infatuation stands here before you, and it’s just the two of you alone. Any social skills you have, leave you and you’re unsure of what to do. 

Jaehyun notices the awkward tension in the air and works quickly to dispel it. “Your drink’s looking low. Can I get you something else?” 

You look down to your drink to see that he was right. Only a few sips remain. You didn’t realize you had drank so much at the sight of Jaehyun. 

“Um, some water would be good. I don’t want to be too hungover tomorrow.” You answer shyly. You also need to be sober enough to look after Yeri, but you decide to leave that out.

Jaehyun chuckles, “sure thing. Here, come with me. I’ll get you some water.”

Jaehyun leads you to the kitchen with ease, seamlessly weaving through the crowds of people. Every group of people he passes greets him loudly to be heard of the pounding bass of the music. You are not surprised to see how popular he is. 

Once in the kitchen, he grabs you a bottle of water and a beer for himself from the fridge and you thank him. The cold water is refreshing, but it does little to cool your nerves. The awkward tension is high and still ever present. You feel as though you’re drowning in it and you also feel like running away from here despite this being what you’ve wanted for more than anything for weeks on end. 

“So,” Jaehyun starts, clearing his throat. “Mark told me you’re a CWP major?” 

“Uh, y-yeah, actually.” You hate how you’re so flustered around him. “How’d he know? Did Yeri tell him or something?” 

“He said you guys shared an arranging class last semester.” Jaehyun recalls.

“Wait, really? I had no idea.” You start going off on how you could’ve missed such a thing and Jaehyun smiles. You’re much more comfortable when a rhythm has been established and the words flow out of you easily. You’re not as relaxed as where Jaehyun wants you to be, but he thinks it’s a good start. 

You continue with small talk from there, much less uptight than before and you feel glad. Jaehyun is as radiant in person as he is in your imagination. You find him to be very kind and your heart flutters even more. Jaehyun mentions he’s a musical theatre major and you do your best to act surprised despite it being one of the only things you know about him prior to this moment.

Before he gets a chance to tell you more about himself, a tall boy with long limbs calls out to Jaehyun that it’s his turn to join the next game of beer pong. Jaehyun looks reluctant to leave and you don’t want him to leave either, but you’d hate to hold him back from prior engagements. 

“Would you,” Jaehyun licks his lips in consideration, “like to play with me? I don’t have a partner.” 

You nod your head and readily agree, eager to spend more time with him.

You’ve only played beer pong a handful of times and being around Jaehyun makes you nervous, so you miss the first few shots. You feel embarrassed, but Jaehyun is patient and assures you that it’s no problem at all. His little words of encouragement mixed with the beer you drink helps melt your tension, and halfway through the game, you’re whooping and hollering with everyone watching the game. 

You high-five Jaehyun without a second thought after nailing a perfect shot and Jaehyun smiles even wider. The two of you are leading when Taeyong comes in to kick everyone out. 

“Sorry guys, party’s over.” 

Groans of complaints could be heard throughout the crowd, but Taeyong’s words are firm and he ushers everyone to leave. He has a few other frat members behind him helping out. He reaches the beer pong table and pulls Jaehyun aside. After a few exchanged words, Jaehyun nods in agreement and ends the game completely, apologizing to his opponents. 

You’re confused, so you carefully ask Jaehyun what’s going on. He sees you and his gaze softens, he quietly explains, “apparently, the campus police have received multiple noise complaints and since the fraternity already has a strike, Taeyong doesn’t really want to risk another. “

“Ah, I see.” You nod. You’re saddened by the turn of events, having finally eased into a relative comfort around Jaehyun and you yearn for more. “Well, I better go look for Yeri then.” 

This is a goodbye and you’re unsure of what else to say to him, your disappointment mixes with alcohol making you feel even more miserable. You want to ask for more, but can’t find the words to reach him. Luckily, Jaehyun does it for you. 

“Are you free sometime this week?” He asks. “I feel like we didn’t get a chance to really talk and I’d like to.” 

Your heart hammers and the blood rushes in your ears, but you still find yourself uttering a mousy agreement.

“Great,” his smile is dazzling and you feel dizzy. “It’s a date then.”

5. 24 Hours by Sunmi

rushed minutes. 

“Time goes by so quickly.”

“Hey,” a distant voice calls out and Jaehyun looks up from his phone to see your approaching figure. Your cheeks are rosy from the summer sun and stray pieces of your hair escape from your loosely styled updo. Jaehyun takes all of you in with careful appreciation.

“Hey yourself.” Jaehyun chuckles, slipping his phone casually in his pocket and standing up straighter to greet you properly.

Jaehyun sees the red of your face flush brighter, the soft color bleeding across your cheeks and onto your nose. Cute, he thinks. He watches as you tighten your grip on your clutch, knuckles white with nervous tension, in an attempt to gather your composure and calm your nerves. You clear your throat, “I didn’t know you’d be here so soon. You should’ve texted me.” 

“It’s all good, I finished early.” Jaehyun notices you no longer stutter around him like the first night you two met. He’s glad the days and nights of sober texting after exchanging numbers at the party did wonders to make you feel comfortable around him. He’s not too worried about your current ‘first-date’ anxiety, knowing it’ll be dispelled soon enough. “Shall we?” He moves to open the door and the cool rush of air from the cafe greets the two of you. 

The cafe is quaint and cozy, tucked away in a small corner of intersecting back streets and crowded buildings. Jaehyun discovered the little spot not too long ago and something, Jaehyun assumes his instincts, compelled him to take you to it for the first official date. It just felt right.

The two of you walk to the order counter and you take it all in. You can hear the quiet chatter of the cafe occupants mixed with the rattle of espresso machines being put to work. Your eyes scan over the decorations and several potted succulents hanging from the ceiling. It’s incredibly homey and you feel at ease. 

“Hiya, I can help the two of you whenever you guys are ready.” The barista is cheerful to a fault and Jaehyun watches you shoot her a grateful smile before your eyes move to the menu to decide on what to get. 

Jaehyun knows what he wants, so he waits patiently for you to decide, but seeing your eyebrows scrunch together in indecision, Jaehyun chuckles to himself. “I hear the iced lattes here are really good, particularly the caramel latte,” he offers. 

You perk up in surprise, but you recover quickly, “okay, that sounds good then. I was between that and the iced cocoa.”

“No problem, I’ll order then. Today’s on me.” Jaehyun says. 

Jaehyun walks up to the barista and quickly places the order. He reaches for his wallet after the barista recites the order, but he falters slightly when he sees your gaze glued to the cake display, particularly the crepe cake. 

“Can I get a slice of the chocolate crepe cake over there too?” 

“Of course! Here’s your new total,” she turns the touch screen display over to Jaehyun and he readily inserts his card to pay. When finished, Jaehyun turns back the screen and after a few taps from the barista, a receipt is printed and she hands him a buzzer. 

“Your order will be out shortly.” She informs him.

Jaehyun smiles and says a small ‘thank you’ in return before turning his attention to you. You look up to meet his eyes and you smile, “can we sit over there by the window?” 

You head to the little corner table first with Jaehyun steadily in tow. You sit at the chair that leaves your back to the window and Jaehyun is mesmerized by how the afternoon sunlight refracts through your silhouette. You’re glowing and Jaehyun swallows thickly. 

“So,” he starts. “What have you been up to?”

“Celebrating finishing my first year of college in one piece.” You laugh lightly. “I got by with passable grades, but other than that Yeri and I just finished moving into our new dorms. We’re no longer freshmen, so first year dorms are off limits. I’m gonna miss the convenient location.” You jokingly mope. 

Jaehyun laughs easily with you and before he gets a chance to reply, the buzzer goes off so he excuses himself to go pick up the order. 

A different barista places down a tray with your two drinks and a small slice of cheesecake with two dessert forks resting on some napkins. “Enjoy your order!” 

Jaehyun smiles in thanks and picks up the tray to bring it back to the table. He can’t wait to see the look on your face when you see the mille crepe cake and true to his expectations, your eyes light up at the sight of dessert. 

“Surprise.” He says. “I saw you looking at it earlier.” 

Jaehyun watches as you immediately grab a small fork and try a piece of the cake with unrestricted child-like excitement. Your eyes light up at the taste of the delicate layers of fresh whipped cream and thin crepes and the smile you shoot in his direction has Jaehyun’s heart beating a little faster than he’s willing to admit. 

“Thank you!” You look up at him. “It’s so good, you should definitely try a bite too.” 

“Yeah? I’ll try some then.” Jaehyun sits down and leans even closer to you over the table, his mouth open and expectant and his eyes staring straight into yours. 

You try your best to bite back the scarlet fighting to stain your cheeks as you cinch off a small section of the cake with your fork. Your hand falters just the slightest bit when delivering the small confection to his awaiting mouth, but you push through and feed him despite the embarrassment you feel. 

Jaehyun chews slowly and deliberately, taking his time to lick the stray whipped cream from the corner of his mouth. You lose the game of chicken, breaking eye contact first. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It’s good. We should definitely come back.” 

You let out a little awkward cough, desperate to ward off your cloud of emotions. “Uhm, yeah sure.”

Jaehyun has always thought you were cute, but he thinks you’re especially cute today. 

“Anyway,” you start. You want to change the topic because you don’t think you can survive this tension without your brain frying. “I feel like I’ve just seen you around recently. I should’ve run into you a long time ago since the performing arts college is so small.” 

“Oh,” Jaehyun is a little taken aback. “I used to be over at the East Campus. I was a business and administration major for two years before I switched over to musical theatre.”

“Wait really?” Your surprise erases any tension you felt earlier. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “It doesn’t really come up in conversation.” 

“Why’d you switch over? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

Jaehyun contemplates his reply for a second as takes a sip of his coffee. “Well, when I entered college, I didn’t really know what I wanted, so I just followed whatever my parents wanted me to do. I actually knew I liked musical theatre for the longest time, but it took time for me to build up the courage to switch. My parents weren’t happy with it at first and we fought for the longest time, but I think they’ve warmed up to it enough by now. I’ve never really talked about this though, I just tell people I transferred from a different college and the conversation just ends there I guess, but it’s really no big deal.”

“Thank you for telling me this, Jaehyun.” Your voice is sincere and Jaehyun believes you.

“What about you, hm?” Jaehyun returns. “Why CWP?” 

“I don’t really have one point that changed my life and helped me find my calling or whatever,” you ponder with a tilt of the head and the taste of cream dissolving in your mouth. “But ever since I was little, I always knew I was gonna end up doing something in music. I was never good at singing though, so vocal performance was out the door and I wasn’t that interested in classical instruments either, so that helped me narrow stuff down. Actually, what really helped me decide was during orientation, my group leader was a contemporary writing and production major and she told me all about it and I’ve been sold ever since. I really like it though, and have no intention of switching.”

“That’s good. Sometimes I wish I switched earlier.” Jaehyun muses. “I feel so behind sometimes. Most people in my class have already been in at least one musical and an internship, except for me. I think about it a lot, but I try not to let it get me so down.” 

“You shouldn’t feel that way!” You try your best to cheer him up, and Jaehyun appreciates it a lot more than he thought he would. “Everyone has their own pace, that’s what college is all about! Nothing is ever wasted time. You can think of your time as a business admin major as a way to help you make up your mind on your true passion. You told me you’ve always liked musical theatre, but I’ve bet without the time in business, you would’ve never known you liked it enough to pursue a career out of it.”

Jaehyun laughs at your earnesty. He thinks you’re a touch naive, but your words make him feel light. “You’re right. I can say for sure I wasn’t happy as a business major.”

“See? Nothing is ever wasted time if you can discover your true happiness out of it.” 

The two of you exchange easy chatter after that and between small bites of cake and sips of coffee, Jaehyun thinks you’ve become prettier and prettier.

“What was it like?” You ask absentmindedly.

“Hm? What was ‘what’ like?”

“Being a business and administration major.”

Jaehyun has to think about it. He recalls constantly dressing up for group presentations and boring lectures, but his mind wanders to his activities outside the classroom. He remembers the constant partying and the blur of faces that helped him keep his bed warm. He remembers brief flings and relationships cut short. He doesn’t want to think about those things when he’s next to you. “Uhm. It was okay, nothing special, but that reminds me–”

“Yeah?”

“Are you free next weekend?”

“I should be. Why, what’s up?”

“Great,” Jaehyun smiles while taking the last sip of his coffee. “I’m having a housewarming party at my new apartment. You should definitely be there.” 

--

The day of the long awaited housewarming party rolls up sooner than expected between settling into your new dorm with Yeri and the occasional small ‘get-togethers’ with Jaehyun. They’re actually dates if you're being honest, but you don’t want to put a title on anything in case he wasn’t on the same page as you. Being with Jaehyun made you giddy in more ways than one, but that means the anxiety that pools at the base of your stomach grows larger each day when the relationship between the two of you goes unnamed. You feel greedy when you desperately grasp at the shred of time you share with him, always unwillingly to let go.

“Are you ready?” Yeri’s voice breaks you out of your small reverie. Her hand is poised, ready to knock on the black door of Jaehyun’s apartment, waiting for you to gather your composure. Yeri is dressed to the nines in a cute skirt with a top to match. She wants to look good for her new boyfriend and you teased her endlessly for it when the two of you were getting ready.

“Mark’s one lucky guy.”

“Shut up. Worry about yourself.”

“All I do is love you, yet you’re so mean to me.”

Regardless of her harsh words toward you, she helped you toss your closet inside and out for the perfect outfit to woo Jaehyun, even if it meant showing up late to the party. 

The two of you leave your dorm twenty minutes later than you intended and it also didn’t help that Jaehyun’s apartment was difficult to find, tucked away in a small building between towering skyscrapers, but now is finally the moment of truth. 

“Yeah, I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” you mutter as you watch Yeri knock on the door. 

It takes a minute before the door creaks open and Jaehyun’s head pops out. His smile is radiant and you’re absolutely ensnared by the way his fringe falls over his forehead. 

“Hey, glad you two could make it.” Jaehyun opens the door wider to allow you and Yeri to enter. He greets Yeri with polite warmth while he wraps an arm over your shoulders. When Yeri heads in the apartment first with her back against the two of you, Jaehyun steals a quick peck to your temple and whispers, “you look pretty tonight.”

His touch is fleeting and he pulls back quickly, as if you imagined the whole thing, but his cheeky smile tells you that it really did happen. Your heart hammers and you force yourself to focus on the steady thrum of mellow R&B that reverberates throughout his apartment to calm yourself. You take his apartment in steady strides with your full attention. It’s sleek and modern with a few pops of his personality here and there in the form of trinkets decoration choices. 

“Hey!” Johnny calls over from the couch. He has a beer in hand, but he’s far from tipsy. Flanked on one side is Doyoung with another beer to match and on the other is Sicheng. Seulgi, the girl, who you assume is Sicheng’s significant other, by the way his arm is casually wrapped around her waist, is also there and she nods at you in greeting. You've come to know about all of them after hanging out with Jaehyun so much. “Did you guys get lost or something?” 

“Yeah,” Yeri replies as she moves to sit next to Mark who’s on the adjacent loveseat and resting a drink on the coffee table.  “Something like that.”  

She places a sweet kiss to the corner of Mark’s mouth in greeting and you swear you can hear him crooning at the attention. 

“Doesn’t matter, Johnny. The important thing is that they’re here now.” Jaehyun interjects. “Do you guys want anything to drink?”

“That’d be nice.” You hum.

Yeri laughs in agreement, “yeah, the two of us could never say no to a drink.”

“Alright, I’m on it.” Jaehyun calls while moving to the kitchen. “Any preferences?”

“No,” you say. “Surprise us.”

Jaehyun works to mix drinks and you take a seat on the floor next to the coffee table to observe the party. Perched on the shelf of a slender bookcase in the corner of his living room is a bluetooth speaker playing music, the rhythm quiet and bass steady as everyone chatters away once introductions are made on the sofas. You remember him offhandedly mentioning that he doesn’t want any noise complaints on his first week in the new place and it makes sense. Jaehyun’s housewarming party is a quiet affair that is far different from the wild party at the frat house in which you met him, but you think this vibe fits Jaehyun more.

Jaehyun returns shortly with two drinks in tow for you and Yeri and sits himself snugly next to you on the floor. He picks his idle beer from the coffee table and once Johnny realizes that everyone in the proximity has a drink in hand, he raises his voice and beer in a toast. “It sucks that Taeyong couldn’t make it tonight, but here’s to having fun without him. We’re gonna get twice as fucked up to make up for his absence, cheers!”

Everyone lets out a chuckle, but obliges to humor him anyway and joins to connect their drink to his in cheers. 

You pull your cup back and take a big gulp of the drink. It’s sweet and carbonated, but the sting of alcohol at your throat leaves you wincing just the slightest bit.

A few pleasantries are exchanged here and there, but it’s only then does Doyoung pull out a deck of cards with a devilish glint in his eyes that deceive his looks. 

“Ring of fire, anyone?”

--

After who knows how many rounds of ring of fire (and maybe a few other drinking games here and there) with too many drink refills for you to remember, you somehow find yourself splayed on the couch and leaning over Yeri’s shoulder in support. Seulgi is on the other side of you leaning on you for support, the same way you’re doing to Yeri, but you don’t mind it one bit. The three of you have grown surprisingly close with one another throughout the night.

Your mind is lucid enough to still be conscious and completely aware of where you are and what you’re doing, but the alcohol in your system eats away at the details in your memory. 

You vaguely recall ridiculous punishments that involved Johnny twerking on the dining room table and Mark taking a shot of Jack Daniels mixed with ketchup, and you can’t help but snicker to yourself. 

“I think we should get going now.” Sicheng is the first to speak as he moves to help Seulgi up. “It’s getting late.”

Doyoung looks a little groggy, but when he checks the time, he perks up immediately, “oh shit, you’re right. I need to get going too, I’ve got something in the morning.”

With that everyone shuffles to clean the remnants of the party with as much grace as they can muster while intoxicated, which wasn’t much, but in twenty minutes, Jaehyun is already walking half the party to the door in goodbye. Only you, Mark, and Yeri are left. 

“Hey Yeri,” Mark calls softly to Yeri as he brushes a strand of hair from her face. “Are you ready to go too?”

Yeri is still sprawled on the couch with you, but mumbles a small response. “Yeah, I should be. Give me a second.”

She turns over to you and nudges you just the slightest bit. “I’m gonna go back to Mark’s tonight, are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” you assure her. “I’ll be fine, just go have fun.”

“She’s free to rest here until she’s ready to leave, don’t worry. I’ll call a cab for her when the time comes.” Jaehyun pipes up. 

Yeri gives you a look, but you squeeze her hand one last time to give her some peace of mind. “I’m a big girl, Yeri. I’ll be okay, promise. I’ll walk you to the door, Mark’s waiting.”

You give Yeri a tight hug in goodbye and you find your way back to the couch. The fact that you’re all alone in Jaehyun’s apartment doesn’t hit because of the remnants of alcohol in your system melts away your nerves. 

You’re pleasantly buzzed, lost in your own thoughts when Jaehyun comes up to you with a glass of water in hand. “Here, so you don’t feel as bad tomorrow morning.”

You accept it gratefully and take in big gulps, the water refreshing, but your skin feels hot. 

Jaehyun takes a seat next to you and the proximity makes your head spin. You turn to look at him, and he flashes you a smile.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“You might’ve mentioned something.” You tease. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

“Well,” he hums. You’re not sure, but you think the distance between the two of you is decreasing. “You really do look stunning tonight.”

You flush at his words, but you look straight into his eyes. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Yeah? I try to impress.” Jaehyun’s eyes are hooded and your throat goes dry. “Can I kiss you?”

You say nothing at first, his words not registering into your muddled brain, but when you feel his breath ghost over your lips, you don’t hesitate to close the gap between you. 

His lips are slightly chapped and you can taste the vodka on his breath, but to you it’s perfect. Jaehyun’s perfect.

Jaehyun kisses you with reserved passion and practiced expertise. His tongue sets the rhythm against yours and his roaming hands have you feeling as if you’ve been set ablaze. He pulls back just the tiniest bit and the intense longing for his touch that hits you is indescribable. 

You pull him back in your arms and your lips reconnect in a desperate fervor. Jaehyun adjusts his arms around you and the next you know, you’re in his embrace and he’s carrying you to his bedroom. He places you down gently, his bed is plush and comforter soft. 

Jaehyun’s touch is gentle as he gathers your face in his hands. He kisses you again and you wrap your arm around his neck to pull him closer. He pulls back and looks at you earnestly. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

Everything’s moving so fast and you’re dizzy, but you don’t want whatever this is to stop. You want to be as close to Jaehyun as possible.

“No,” your voice is hoarse. “Don’t stop. I want you, Jaehyun.”

He kisses you again, this time unrestrained. His tongue is hot, but you can only savor it for a minute before he starts trailing kisses down your neck and tugging at your shirt. You let out a breathy moan in response to how his touches make you feel. 

Jaehyun reaches at your shorts and makes quick work at unbuttoning them. You help him remove the article of clothing and his slender fingers dart inside your panties. You’re slick to the touch and Jaehyun must be made of magic because you think you’re seeing stars. You unravel before him embarrassingly quick, but he kisses you at the base of your clavicle in sweet reassurance. 

Your chest is heaving, but you want more. You grab at Jaehyun’s shirt, urging him to take it off. The expanse of his abdomen is a sight to behold, but Jaehyun is cruel and doesn’t give you the time to take it in. He’s on top of you again, lips crashing onto yours once more. He reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and while he’s pre-occupied, you unbuckle his belt and steal a moment in his boxers. He feels thick and hot in your hands as you run your finger over the tip to feel a drop of pre-cum. He buckles just the slightest bit and it emboldens you. 

Jaehyun helps himself out of his jeans and you push him onto the bed wanting to be on top this time. He’s straining against his boxers and you want to help relieve the tension. When you pull off his boxers you can feel his inaudible groan. You stroke his length gingerly and look up to see him with hooded eyes look right back at you. 

This excites you so you take him in your mouth in a moment of unfiltered courage. Your tongue starts at the base before tracing your way up to his sensitive head. You tease him accordingly to his quiet grunts and groans and when you feel like he’s had enough, you take all of him in until his tip is hitting the back of your throat. You gag a bit, but push through.

“Fuck,” Jaehyun stutters out between stacatoed breaths. “Babe, you’re so good.”

You hum in pleasure at his praise and he grabs your hair. This goes on for a few more minutes before he reaches down to stop you. “Not that I don’t love this,” the look in your eyes nearly has him faltering his words, “but I don’t want to cum just yet.”

You relent with a slick pop and Jaehyun shifts over to rummage for a condom in his nightstand. You settle back down in his pillows. Jaehyun gives you a soft kiss on the lips before he enters you. 

“Tell me when it’s okay to move,” he whispers and you place a small kiss at the base of his neck. 

He starts off slow to let you acclimate to his size, but neither of you are very patient, so he ends up pounding into you a lot sooner than he anticipated and you find yourself getting caught up in the pleasure.

It feels like you’re dreaming, but if this was a dream, you never want to wake up.

6. Hush by Miss A

shh, no talking, just us.

“I can’t think straight.”

You and Jaehyun don’t become official until a few weeks later. 

He asks you one day when you’re naked and out of breath. You’ve gone one too many rounds with him and a thin layer of sweat coats your body as you lay on his heaving chest. You absentmindedly draw shapes on his skin and he gives you a chaste kiss to your temple.

“We should date.” He hums. “I think I’d make a good boyfriend.”

“Yeah?” You raise your eyebrow in teasing.

“Yeah,” he ascertains. “Give me a chance and I’ll show you.”  

“Hmm,” you pretend to think it over as if this wasn’t you’ve been hoping for since the first moment you laid eyes on him. “Okay. Let’s give it a try, boyfriend.”

Jaehyun laughs and you feel the world fall into its right place. “Alright, girlfriend.”

And the rest is history as they say. 

Jaehyun isn’t your first, but you experience many firsts with him. You’re not exactly inexperienced, but he really opens your eyes.

“Fuck,” he groans into your neck. His hands grip at your hips to help guide you along, but you’re fully in charge. “You’re doing so good, babe. Just like that.” 

You didn’t see yourself as someone who liked to take charge during sex, but after that one time Jaehyun asked you to top, you’ve never looked back since. 

You roll hips into him and at a pace you know drives Jaehyun wild and you pull him into a sloppy kiss. It’s all tongue and no grace, but you love it the same regardless. You capture his bottom lips between your teeth playfully before pushing him flat on his back until he’s firm against his plush mattress. You place a hand on his chest and the other on his thigh to balance yourself and Jaehyun immediately knows you’re close. 

A hand rests on your hip to steady you while the other snakes over to play with your clit to further stimulate you toward your climax. Jaehyun knows what you like and his timing is impeccable, so before you know it, both of you are reaching your highs together. You collapse on his chest and you allow yourself to stay in his warmth long enough to have your breaths synchronize before you extricate yourself from him to head to his bathroom. 

When you come back out, he’s disposed of the used condom and opens your arm wide for a hug, which you gladly indulge in.

Time stops when you’re in his arms.

--

On the surface, it looks like Jaehyun likes to mix it up. He seems like  an elusive guy with varied tastes, but the more time you spend with him, you realize he likes the control of seeing you unravel before him.

He likes the intimacy of missionary. 

The close proximity to your body has him looking into your eyes and leaving you feeling the most vulnerable of ways. He has full access to your neck, which he lovingly claims as his own and you chide him the next day when you see scattered purple blooms. Jaehyun changes his pace on a whim and you fall to his mercy. When he takes you fast and hard, you see stars, but when thrusts in you with languid leisure, he has you begging for more. 

He likes the intensity of taking from behind. 

When you’re on your knees with your ass in the air, he takes it as a guarantee to fuck you senseless. Your muffled moans makes his dick twitch and you swear you can feel him fuck into you even faster. Jaehyun always makes sure to wrap his arms around you to finger your clit until you go into sensory overload and he doesn’t stop pounding into you until there are tears in your eyes. He kisses each one away before taking your lips in his and you can taste the salt water on his tongue.

He likes the dominance from eating you out.

He laps at your core like a starved man and makes good use of his adept fingers until your head is spinning. Jaehyun makes it a habit to eat you out until you’re satisfied before he gets his turn. When your thighs are on either side of his head and your hands tangled in his hair, he swears he can stay there forever.

Above all, Jaehyun just likes you. He likes being with you and he definitely likes fucking you and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

--

“Mmmh,” you breathe out.

Your back is flush against Jaehyun’s back as you rock your hips back and forth on his dick. You grind your ass back even harder when he pinches your nipple between his fingers. 

He kisses your shoulder blade from behind and bucks his hip upward to meet you in the middle. 

The afternoon sunlight is streaming in from the gaps of his blinds and you want to take it nice and slow today. The television in front of you is playing a movie, but you’re too enraptured by the feeling of him filling you to the brim to pay it any mind. 

“I love it when you’re on top, babe.” he hums as he plays with your clit. 

You let out another breathy groan before you can find the composure to bite back at him. “What happened to no sex today, hmm? I thought we were just going to have innocent quality time together and watch a movie.”

Jaehyun must’ve not liked your sass, so he bucks up harder. He’s telling you to pick up the pace and you oblige. Before you know, you’re practically bouncing on his dick and you can feel your impending high about to crash down on you. He can sense it too and maintains his tempo. When you cum, Jaehyun rides on the tail of your climax in pursuit of his own. He cums shortly after with stuttering hips and a bite on your shoulder. He gathers you in his arms and runs his tongue soothingly over where he bit you and the various love bites that he’s littered on the expanse of your skin. 

“Just being with you is quality time in itself.” He says. “Besides, class is starting soon, so I won’t get to see you as much.”

7. Disturbance by BoA

a ripple on the surface.

“I didn’t know at first.”

“So I do have a roommate after all,” Yeri’s voice calls out and you turn over to see her standing by the doorway. You roll your eyes at her, but quickly turn back to gather your things. 

She lets out a chuckle, but you don’t miss the sour edge to her tone. “I thought I got a single dorm since it’s so empty all the time.”

“You say that, Yeri,” you retort. “But I know you’re over at Mark’s constantly so I don’t wanna hear it from you.”

“Yeah, but I make time to come back here and I always let you know when I’m going out. I feel like I’ve only seen you maybe once or twice the past few months. I feel like the only reason I see you these days is ‘cause of classes.”

“You’re just exaggerating, don’t be so dramatic. Come on, let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”

She looks displeased, but nothing leaves her lips as the two of you head out for the day.

--

It’s late. 

When night falls, shadows come out to play and your college campus is riddled with them. The school auditorium is situated in the far corner of the campus and the lamp lights of the main walkways do little, but you pay it little mind. Jaehyun should be getting out soon.

It takes another ten minutes to see him emerge from the double doors and you perk up immediately at the sight of him. He looks a little shocked to see you, but greets you with a warm hug and small peck regardless. 

“Hey,” his voice is small, almost reserved. “What are you doing here? I thought I told you I was finishing late tonight.”

“Oh, you did, but I still wanted to see you.” You explain, eyes bright and tone undeterred.

“Not that I don’t appreciate it,” he licks his lip. “But it’s really late and I still have more stuff I need to work on. I’ll see you some other time, okay?”

“Oh, okay.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, babe. Next time.”

--

“Oh hey,” you smile, but Yeri’s fury is palpable and cuts through you.

“Don’t ‘oh hey’ me.” She spits out. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

Sheepish, you reply, “oh sorry. I forgot to fully charge it before leaving and Jaehyun and I have different phones, so I couldn’t charge it at his place.”

“You were at Jaehyun’s?” Yeri is glaring at you at this point and you feel a bit peeved. 

“Yeah. What of it?” 

Yeri’s been getting angry at you recently, losing her temper at the drop of a hat, and you can’t seem to pinpoint why. You’re getting tired of being her punching bag. 

“We made plans to go shop for Seulgi’s gift today. You promised you’d be there, don’t you remember?”

“Oh shit.” It completely slips from your mind and you open your mouth to apologize, but Yeri cuts you off before you get the chance.

“Forget it. I don’t want to hear it. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Yeri turns to leave before you can say anything back.

8. Symptoms by SHINee

something’s wrong.

“The worse it gets, the more exhausted I get.”

Jaehyun feels off.

He can’t pinpoint exactly what he is that he’s feeling, but he thinks it’s reminiscent of his world being tilted by six degrees. It’s not immediately jarring and takes little time for his eyes to register, but he’ll occasionally bump his toe, signalling that this isn’t right. Things aren’t where they’re supposed to be. His head spins just the slightest bit and he feels woozy, but he doesn’t know why.

Jaehyun just feels off.

--

Jaehyun checks the bulletin board of his school auditorium almost religiously. 

Each time before and after class, he’ll swing by and peruse the flyers that hang from haphazardly stuck on pins. He ignores the tutoring offers and the part time jobs scams, his main focus is almost always on the center of the board where they post the upcoming musical theatre production and eventually, the cast list. 

This semester, the chosen production is La La Land and Jaehyun has been dead set on landing the role of Sebastian Wilder. He stays back extra late each day to practice the script and to work on his singing and annunciation. 

On the day of the audition, he’s sure he’s nailed it and thinks to himself the world must be ending if he weren’t to get the leading role. 

When he leaves the auditorium in a rush, excitement flows through his veins and he drinks in the night air as a toast of victory. He’s tipsy on his excitement and wants to laugh out loud, but in the corner of his vision, he sees you. Your eyes light up the sight up, outshining the moon and the stars, but your visage does not elicit the reaction he thinks it should. He expects his heart to swell and burst, but somehow he feels heavy. 

He pulls you in for a hug and a quick kiss to quell his weighted heart, but he thinks he’s starting to sink so he calls you off for the night. He’ll see you next time. 

Yeah, next time will be better.

--

You’re snuggled up close and personal on Jaehyun’s chest. Jaehyun notices you fill every nook and cranny of his being perfectly to a tee, and yet that feeling. It’s there again. 

Jaehyun feels off. 

You laugh at something one of the characters say and you cuddle harder into him. He feels heavy again and it makes his throat itch, so he swoops down and captures your lips.

It’s hard and fast to scrub away at his uneasiness and before he knows it, his clothes are missing, but so are yours. The foreplay is brief and almost impersonal, but he doesn’t care. He just needs to be inside you. 

When Jaehyun has you begging and writhing, he feels like the world is where it should be. No longer is he living at a slight angle when he’s buried to the hilt inside your warmth, so when he sees you, he does what he can to get you out of your pants. 

Today is no different from any other. 

After a satisfying session you roll on his chest. Your kiss is soft and sweet despite the sweat that covers both of your bodies. He hums quietly as he taps melodies on along your exposed spine.

“Jaehyun?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I love you.”

Ah. Jaehyun thinks he’s getting it now, why he’s feeling off.

Jaehyun thinks he’s being suffocated.

--

To the surprise of no one, and especially not to him, Jaehyun gets the leading role of Sebastian Wilder in La La Land. He was a shoe-in for it anyway and he made sure to put in the work to get it. 

His leading lady is someone by the name of Park Sooyoung, but at the first rehearsal she introduces herself as Joy.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She offers her hand out in a friendly greeting. “Here’s to a successful show together, Jaehyun.”

Her smile is blinding and he thinks Joy is a fitting name. He grasps her outstretched hand, grip firm and sure. 

“Yeah,” he smiles back. “Here’s to a good show together.”

--

Rehearsals span over blurred minutes and long hours. 

Jaehyun sees less and less of you and spends more and more time with her. 

During a quick water break, he scans his phone briefly to see a text notification from you. He takes another swig of water and returns to the rehearsal.

It’s okay, he can always text you back later.

9. Before U Go - TVXQ!

letting go.

“I will leave now.”

“Come on!” You tug both Mark and Yeri along excitedly. “I want to get good seats.”

Yeri rolls her eyes, but obliges anyway, pulling Mark along. It’s opening night for Jaehyun’s big musical and you wanted to be there no matter what to support him. Johnny, Doyoung, Taeyong, Sicheng, and Seulgi are already inside waiting and you’re not sure if they were able to save the three of you a spot. 

After a long chat with Yeri, you apologized profusely to her. You did get blinded by your relationship with him and prioritized him over everything, forgetting your friends and other responsibilities in the process. Yeri forgave you easily and helped keep you in line when you went to head over heels for Jaehyun. 

However, after patching things up with Yeri, you begin to notice a shift in your relationship with Jaehyun’s. You’re not quite sure how to describe it, but it almost feels like a distance almost. 

You chalk it up to his busy rehearsal schedule and choose not to dwell on the topic, in fears of your wandering imagination. It should be fine. After his musical is over, he’ll be less busy and things will fall back into place. 

Right?

“Over here!” Seulgi waves over excitedly. 

The auditorium is starting to fill up and you want to get comfortable before the show starts. 

Everyone greets each other in hushed tones and soon enough, the show starts. 

Right. Everything will be fine.

--

Jaehyun does amazing. 

Your eyes are trained on him the whole time and his singing has goosebumps pricking your skin. You can see the passion pour through him every time he’s on stage and you couldn’t be more proud. 

A nagging feeling at the pit of your stomach points out the undeniable chemistry between him and his co-star, but you push it deep down and suppress it. 

They’re actors, and they’re good at what they do. 

Yeah. They’re just acting. Yeah. Acting.

--

When the curtains close, you’re the first to shoot out of your seat, eager to meet him backstage. You weave through the endless crowd of people, murmuring your ‘sorry’s’ and ‘excuse me’s’ as you pass by. You reach the base of the backstage and shoot a message to let him know you’re waiting. You hum to yourself when you happen to overhear a conversation playing out. 

“You did so good, Jae.” 

“No, you definitely carried the show.” 

You turn up and you see them. Her eyes are almost soft and loving as she pulls your boyfriend in for a hug. They linger in the embrace longer than necessary and you clear your throat to catch his attention. 

He jolts just the slightest bit when he sees you and immediately lets her go. 

“Everyone’s waiting,” you say quietly. 

“Okay,” he nods. “Let me go get my stuff in the back.”

Jaehyun leaves the two of you alone and you wait for him to get back. 

When you leave, he waves goodbye to her and she smiles back.

--

Jaehyun’s celebration party is rowdy, but it’s to be expected when Johnny is the one hosting. 

He books a table at the local club and even orders bottle service. The eight of you work your way through two whole bottles of tequila and are already on your third. Jaehyun is downing the shots at a quicker pace than usual and you’re a bit concerned, but you’re unable to say anything because when you try, he whisks himself away to the dance floor and strikes up a conversation with someone else. 

You’re perturbed, but you say nothing. This is his celebration night and he can choose to enjoy it how he wishes. 

By the end of the night, Jaehyun is noticeably drunk and you haul him outside to get a breath of fresh air in hopes of sobering up. He’s heavy, but you make it out the side door. You prop him up on your side as you lean on the grimy brick walls. 

Months have passed and the weather is chilly. 

Jaehyun’s body sways and he murmurs something in your ear. You don’t catch it the first time, the overwhelming smell of tequila overtaking your senses. 

“What was that?”

He grumbles beneath his breath, steps staggering once more. He tries again, this time his words are crisp and clear and they cut into you in more ways than one. 

“I think we should end it.”

For someone so drunk, he sounds so sober.

You’re at a loss for words. A part of you knew this was coming from his lack of enthusiasm around you and his decreased texts. Even the cold night air couldn’t keep your heartbreak at bay. You say nothing, but you understand the both of you knew it was a silent agreement.

You breathe out wisps of chilled air as Jaehyun’s inebriated body stays slumped over on your side. 

--

You volunteer to take Jaehyun home.

You tuck him gently in bed making sure to prop him on his side in case he vomits during the night. You pour a glass of water and place an ibuprofen on his nightstand drawer for him in the morning. 

You kiss him on the forehead one last time. You hope it conveys all of the things brewing in your heart at the moment, but you know it doesn’t. 

Later, you leave his apartment with all of your belongings that you ever left there with the stars as your witness. 

You never return to his place again.

10. Coffee Shop by B.A.P

what could’ve been.

“So without knowing, like a habit, I came here.”

Jaehyun wakes up to an empty bed.

Morning sunlight streams through his blinds and burns at his skin as a sign to get ready for the day. He blinks the drowsiness from his system and stretches his weary joints before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day. 

On his rare day offs, he allows his body to go on auto-pilot. He completely shuts his brain off and allows it to do whatever it chooses.

Today, it takes him back to the cafe. 

His body knows where it’s going before it registers in his mind. 

The barista manning the order counter is different, but the decorations are the same, still the same succulents hanging from the ceilings. He mulls over the menu and goes up to order.

“Can I get an iced caramel latte?” Jaehyun doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he’s feeling nostalgic today. 

“Of course! Here’s your total.” 

He pays with a swipe of his card and the barista goes to work making his drink. He waits around by the counter and soon enough, his drink is ready. That particular table is empty, so he grabs a chair to sit. His first sip is overly saccharine, but he appreciates how the flavor mellows out by the end of it. 

It’s been nearly a year since that night. 

Jaehyun remembers waking up to a splitting headache and a dry mouth. He thought nothing of the prepared setup as he gulps the ibuprofen and the glass of water in one go. Nothing seemed amiss really until a few days later. 

No one mentioned your name around him and he caught Seulgi giving him a look every now and then. Mark didn’t say much either, but Jaehyun felt him drifting away.

He thought he’d feel a lot more, but he didn’t. One day you were a part of his life and then the next day you weren’t. It really was that simple.

He kept in contact with Joy even after La La Land was over and maybe they were something more, but it didn’t last longer than a few weeks. 

It didn’t feel right when he was with her. Again, something felt off, but a different kind of off.

Joy was the one to end things with him, but he didn’t mind too much. 

He filled his days with study and practice and it wasn’t until he landed a job at his local theatre company that he realized.

It was you. It was always you and perhaps it still is you. 

Maybe you were different. Maybe you were the one, but Jaehyun didn’t try.

He recalls feeling smothered. You were always there at the beginning, but he took that for granted. 

There are a lot of things he regrets, but above all, he regrets not talking with you. He regrets not trying to work on it. He regrets being a coward and running away at the first signs of true emotions. 

You weren’t perfect, but neither was he, but he should’ve stayed so the both of you could work it out together. Jaehyun always did take too long to find the courage to pursue what he wanted.

With a final sip, he finishes the drink and moves to throw it away. Then, he sees you. Here, in the flesh, in almost a year. 

Your hair is longer, but your cheeks are still as rosy as ever. You walk up to order and Jaehyun thinks it’s a sign. He moves to greet you, but the doors open again and in walk Yeri and Seulgi. He watches you greet them warmly with wide open arms. 

You always did give the best hugs.

Jaehyun watches the three of you chatter away and he feels acutely out of place in the little cafe. You look happy and he should move on. 

He throws his finished cup in the trash can and moves to exit through the side door, but he moves too slowly.

“Jaehyun, is that you?” You call out. He looks into your steady gaze and almost feels shy. 

“Yeah,” he’s quiet. “It’s been awhile.”

“It has,” you agree. “You look well.”

The smile you give him has him believing in second chances and maybe he’ll get it right this time.

Note: i am so sorry that the second part is a hot mess express smh… there were a lot of things i planned and intended that didn’t happen, but i’ll just take this as a learning experience and write and better story next time. thanks for taking the time to read this !! <3

masterlist.

[ratcatcher0325]

Nobody’s Fool (Birthday One Shot)

Thank you @angelic-mini for this brilliant request/idea! Based on THIS post. This is like ALL the fluffy fluff! Enjoy!

CW: Adult Language

Tag list: @gatlily @grbene @patrocolus3 @lucentbliss @beautifulunknowntrash @titan-god-420 @andraimeide @themarlo @cup-o-chai @lucentbliss @raccoontoaster @tolsizedlove @not-a-space-alien, @angelic-mini, @thegodmother007

Read all of Nobody’s Fool HERE.

________________________________________

NOBODY’S FOOL

One Shot: Careful Composition 

Word Count: 2,672 Read Time: Approx. 20 mins

[Eveline’s POV]

The rain thudded softly against the window pane, while Penn played something gentle and soft, sliding between bar chords with ease. He was propped up on the arm of the couch, his legs outstretched, and crossed at the ankles. He hummed quietly to himself, watching the drops of water race each other down the glass.

I was curled up on the opposing side, my sketch pad in my lap, pretending I was getting work done, while loving the wonderful little scene unfolding before me. His mindless picking was enchanting, and the way the diffused grey of the afternoon sky bounced off of his raven curls, he looked absolutely perfect. I felt my face flush with color, as my fingers gripped the graphite pencil a bit harder. I couldn’t help myself, I had to draw him, my client work be damned.

I took a deep breath and tried to appear nonchalant. I didn’t want him to catch me staring. As the silken lines of gray on white began to take shape, I flashed my eyes in his direction more and more. Suddenly his soft, sweet melody stopped cold, a hint of a smirk on his face.

“You know, I can tell you’re not getting work done… what’re you drawing?” He looked up at me, challenging my resolve with his sharp, dazzling gaze. I swallowed.

“I am working! Thank you! Besides how can you tell from all the way over there?”

He just raised his brows as he sat up, leaning over the body of his guitar, “What’re you drawing, Eveline? Is it me? Am I distracting you??” The smirk broadened into a wide, cocksure smile. He was teasing me, a mischievous glint brightening his little eyes.

I couldn’t help the blush that painted my cheeks, “You just mind your own business, mister! Don’t you have songs to write or something?” This did nothing to dampen his curiosity, in fact, it just encouraged him to probe further. In a quick flurry of tiny movements, he raised his guitar over his head and leapt to his feet. Before I could even form the words to chastise him, he was clinging to the back of the sofa, and scrambling upwards. “Excuse me, what’re you doing??”

“Just answer the question, Eveline, and I won’t have to come over there to survey the evidence myself!” He was puffing as he made his way to the back cushion of the sofa, arms and legs all akimbo. It was positively adorable. I wanted to reach over and scoop him up but it was equally as entertaining to watch him make a fool of himself all on his own. Finally, hand over fist, he’d managed to climb to the top of the couch, balancing on the back cushions, he ran over to me as fast as he could, even as the undulating leather created hills and valleys for him to deftly navigate. I watched him carefully, ready to catch him if he fell, while also giggling in protest as he closed the gap between us.

“No! You stay away! I’m totally working, I swear to god!!” I held up my hands in defense. For such a little thing, he was fast! He clamored up to me in practically no time at all. I tried my best to hide the evidence.

“Eveline Lancaster, don’t you dare turn that page!” He leaped from the couch onto my hand, clinging on for dear life to my thumb and curled fingers.

“Woah! What the fuck are you doing?? What is wrong with—“

“Ah HA! I knew it! I knew you were a big fat liar! That’s me! In plain black and white! I caught you red-handed! Literally!” While still gripping on to me with his left arm, he pointed emphatically at the page before him with his right, little legs swinging wildly over the back of my hand. Gingerly, I scooped him up in my left palm, supporting his back and legs, coaxing him to let go of his grip on my right.

“Alright! Alright! Guilty as charged! Now let go!” He clung to my fingers, beaming, his face flushed as his hair hung in his eyes. This was hilarious for him, he was having the time of his little life, “Penn, let go!”

“No! Not until you promise to let me return the favor!” I raised him up to just before my eyes, both of his little hands gripping my pointer finger, I kept my other hand below him in case he wanted to relax and let go, but he just swung there, all five and one quarter inches of his little body just before my face.

“What on earth does that mean?”

“Well, it’s not fair! You get to draw me all the time, you keep distracting me from my work—“

“I’m the one distracting you??”

“Shhh, you’re the guilty party here, lemme finish!” I couldn’t help smirking at his playful insistence, “It’s only fair that I sketch you for once, while you’re just trying to go about your business. Then you’ll know how it feels!”

“Oh, you act like you hate it! I know you love all my stupid drawings of you, you little ham!” He dropped down into my waiting palm, wriggling into a seated position with his legs swinging over the side. I rustled his hair with a finger tip, while he crossed his arms.

“Don’t try to sweep this under the rug by being sweet, I’m not falling for it! I want retribution and I want it now. Give me some graphite and a blank page, or it will cost you dearly…”

“Oh, yeah?? And what’re you gonna do, little man?”

“No cuddles for a week. I’ll sleep on the opposite side of the bed—“

“No! You wouldn’t dare!

“And, you’ll get zero kisses for three whole days!”

“Damn you. You’ve got me backed into a corner, don’t you?”

“Check, and mate…”

“Ugh!! Fine! You drive a hard bargain!” He jumped for joy, scrambling to his hands and knees inside my palm, he bent down and kissed the pad of my thumb. I couldn’t help my flushed face and rapidly increasing pulse. I loved this little menace with my whole heart.

*******

She rolled her eyes as she gently placed me on the back of the couch. I was practically giddy, as I watched her turn to a fresh, blank page four times as big as I was. I loved sitting up here, from this position we were eye level with one another. Why hadn’t I thought of coming up here sooner?

As I was admiring the way the light from the window ignited her eyes, I suddenly found them trained on me. My heart skipped a beat and my lips parted slightly. I couldn’t help but melt under the gaze of that gorgeous stormy sea. I could feel my face getting hotter before I shook myself. I was the one making demands here, no time to get all soft. She held one of her marbled green drawing pencils up between us. “See? This is how you know I really love you…” I wondered for just a moment what she meant, before she gripped the sharpened end of the writing utensil and snapped off the graphite tip. Oh, artists! So dramatic!

She balanced the broken point on the pad of her index finger and held it before my chest. I wrapped a fist around it. It was a pretty good size, maybe still a bit too large, but I was able to grab onto it well enough. She leaned over the couch and placed the pad of paper on the seat opposite her, before turning back to me, offering her cupped hands. “Come here, little Rubens… show me watcha got….” I had no idea who that was. As I climbed into her warm, familiar palm, I felt a pang of nerves wash over me, rattling me to my core. I was suddenly very nervous. Up until this point, it’d been all fun and games, now I had to actually try to draw her, the love of my life, when I’d never tried to sketch a damn thing in my life!

It can’t be that hard, right? I pulled my t shirt collar away from my throat. Oh calm down, if it’s terrible we can laugh about it, it doesn’t really matter! Just chill out!

She set me down on the paper, facing her. I felt pitifully small, sitting on the expanse of white that could easily fit in her lap. She stared at me, her arm propping up her head as she smirked. ���Well what’re you waiting for, Michelangelo?” I’d heard that name before, at least.

I puffed up my chest, “Prepare to have your likeness expertly captured!” She threw her hand over her mouth as she giggled and rolled her eyes. We were pretty far apart, but since she was so much bigger, I could still see all of her details clearly. I swallowed and turned my attention to the page. Obviously, I wasn’t going to be using the whole blank space, I just settled for making something scaled to me. It’d be far easier to keep track of what I was doing anyway. With a flushed face and shaky hands, I got to work.

I could hear her softly chuckle above me and I shot up my head, “Not as easy as you thought, huh? Where’s all that sass and swagger now?”

“Shut up! Let me craft my art in peace!” She couldn’t help laughing at that. I crouched over my sketch and cupped an arm defensively around it. I honestly wasn’t sure if that did anything at all to hide it from her downward gaze.

******

His adorable little attempt to hide his work from me did absolutely nothing. I peered down with delight as his head swiveled from me to the page and then me again. What did make it difficult to discern, however, was just how positively minuscule the drawing was. I watched with fascinated adoration as he made marks on the page I couldn’t even make out from this vantage point.

“You done yet?? I don’t have all day to sit around and be your muse!”

“You’re telling me! See? This is what it’s like! The pressure! The scrutiny! Now you understand what a difficult life I lead! Be patient! I’m almost finished!” God, I love this dramatic little man. I just stared at him dreamily as he droned on. Could he get any cuter? “Done!”

“Where’s Riley? We need a drum roll!” He cracked a smile as I offered him my hand. He climbed in as I lifted up the pad of paper beneath his little feet. I balanced him in my cupped hand, his arms crossed over the side of my pointer finger, my thumb supporting his back while his legs dangled freely. I leaned back into the couch, getting comfy, while I settled the sketch pad into my lap. What I saw genuinely impressed me. It was positively tiny no bigger than my thumbprint, but it was unmistakably me. “Wait, wait, I need to get a magnifying glass to see this in all its itty bitty details…”

He rubbed the back of his neck as his face burned, “Or, or you could not…”

“Oh! How the mighty have fallen! You’re all bark and no bite aren’t ya?” I held him up to my eyes, he avoided my gaze, his head propped in his hand. I stroked the side of his face with a gentle finger tip, “Hey, there’s no need to be embarrassed… you know I think the world of you, right?” I tipped his chin to face me, “Honestly, it would be cosmically unfair if you were a savant at music and visual art. Stop stealing all my skills, I won’t have anything cool left over to brag about!” He beamed, comforted. I carried him with me to grab a magnifying glass from my desk across the room. He sat there, quiet as a mouse, light as a feather. If I focused closely, I could feel the pounding of his tiny heart against my fingers. I just wanted to hold him forever and never let his feet touch the ground. Was that too much to ask?

We returned to the couch, and this time, I got to really look at what he’d drawn.

*********

“Penn…. Oh my god…”

I hung my head in embarrassment, waiting for her to burst into laughter at my pathetic little effort.

“What’re you turning all red for? This is great!” She lifted me up and kissed the side of my blushing face. I met her gaze, earnestly wondering if she meant it or was just flattering me. “I’m serious! Look at your use of hatching, my eyes look incredibly detailed. Is it perfect? No. But it’s a great first try. You, sir, are too talented for your own good.”

That made me puff up my chest and smile, “Ha! See? Now you understand the flip side. Maybe now you’ve learned your lesson and you won’t bother very busy musicians when they’re trying extremely hard to work…” As I returned to the game and continued to speak, I felt my whole world flip as air rushed past me and entangled my hair and I found myself lying flat on my back, the pad of a finger pressed over my lips, muzzling me into silence.

“Hush, you little idiot. We both know it strokes your ego to be drawn by me. You can stop with the whole pity party.”

Using significant effort from both arms, I pried her finger away, “But—“

“Uh uh,” her fingers descended all around me, “If you don’t stop, I’ll have to punish you…” she scowled in a mocking threat, “I will never put you down and subject you to a million kisses every hour, like this!” Her lips cascaded over every inch of my body as she delicately kissed me. I twisted and writhed, crying out like this was the worst treatment imaginable.

“No!!!! I won’t submit to you, you evil monster! Torture me all you want with your nauseating love! I’ll never be silenced!!”

“Then never-ending kisses, you shall endure!”

“Yes!! Wait… I mean, noooooo!!” We both burst into uncontrollable, side-splitting laughter. Tears sprung in both our eyes, and as we hastily wiped them away, I felt her gaze on me, as her finger tip came to rest over my heart. Could she tell it was beating twice as fast beneath her touch? I gripped her nail with my hand.

“I love you, Penn.” she breathed, stormy irises sparkling.

“I love you, too.” More than I can ever express. She pinched my ribcage beneath my arms and raised me up into her cupped hand, holding me aloft at eye level.

“Now, we both do have actual shit to get done, so I guess we’d better get focused huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I, clearly, have no issues sitting still and staying quiet… you on the other hand…”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, “Fuck you, little man. We’re not doing this all over again.” I smiled, shrugging my shoulders. She bit her lip. Gingerly, she sat me back down on the arm where my abandoned guitar was waiting patiently for me. She pressed a finger to my chest again, “Be a good tiny musician and I’ll do the same. Then, maybe we can find something else fun to do on this rainy day.”

“You’re a tiny musician too? I had no idea!”

“Oh my fucking god, shut up!” We both beamed at each other.

In a few moments, we were back to the sounds of rain drumming on glass, the swish of pencil on paper, and little broken melodies plucked out by me. I drew a lungful of air and sighed, brimming with gratitude. How could I have—

******

—Gotten so lucky?

I loved this tiny man with every part of myself. I couldn’t wait to see what came next for us.

________________________________

Read all of Nobody’s Fool HERE. 

[nopefun]

Interview #494: Ryan Frigillana

Ryan Frigillana is a Philippine-born lens-based artist living and working in New York. His work focuses on the fluidity of memory, intimacy, family identity, and visual culture, largely filtered through the lens of race and immigration. Embracing its plasticity, Frigillana explores photography’s relationship to context as a catalyst for thematic dialogue.

His first monograph, Visions of Eden, was published as two editions in 2020, and is held in the library collections of the MoMA, Getty Research Institute, and Smithsonian among others.

We spoke to find out more about Visions of Eden, his love for photobooks, and photography as a medium for introspection.

Lee Chang Ming Ryan Frigillana

Thanks for agreeing to do this! As we’ve just arrived into the new year, I want to start by asking: how did you arrive at photography and how has your practice evolved so far? Your earlier work was anything from still life to street photography, but your recent work seems to deal with more personal themes.

It’s my pleasure; thank you for having this conversation with me! Wow, looking back at how I’ve arrived at this point makes me feel so grateful for this medium, and excited to think of where it will lead me from here. I came to photography somewhat late. I was initially studying to become a nurse and was set to start a career in that field, but I found myself unhappy with where I was going. My mother was a nurse and I know what goes into being one; it’s not an easy job, and I respect those who do it, but my heart wasn’t in it. I found photography as a creative outlet during that stage of my life, and I’ve clung onto it ever since.

My first exposure to photography (no pun intended) came in the form of street and photojournalism. I would borrow books from the library a lot, consuming works by Magnum and other photographers working in that tradition. At the time, it was all I knew so that’s what I tried to emulate. Even early on in my undergrad career, these modes of creation were reinforced by curriculum and by what I saw from my own peers. My still-life work branches off of that same sentiment: the only names that were ever thrown around by professors were Penn and Mapplethorpe, so that’s who I studied. Thankfully over the years, I’ve been able to broaden that perspective through my own research. Though I don’t necessarily pursue street or constructed still-lifes anymore for my personal work, I’d like to think my technical skills (in regard to timing, composition, light) owe a debt to those past experiences.

I suppose now I’m starting to explore how photography can be used as language, to communicate ideas and internal conflicts. I’m thinking more about the power of imagery, its authorship, its implications, and how photographs have shaped, and continue to shape, our reality. That’s where my work is headed at the moment.

I liked how you mentioned photography as a language, which calls into question who we are speaking to when we make images and what kind of narrative we construct by putting photographs together.

In your work “Visions of Eden”, you trace your family’s journey as first-generation Filipino immigrants in America. I was quite struck by how you managed to link together original photography, archived materials and video stills. To me, with the original photography there was a sense of calm and clarity, perhaps in the composition. But with the archived material it was like peering through tinted glass, and the video stills felt like an unsteady memory. What was the editing process like for you and how did you decide what to include or exclude?

For me, editing is the hardest part about photography. Shooting is the enjoyable part of course because it can feel so cathartic. Sometimes when I shoot it feels almost like muscle memory in the sense that you see the world and you just react to it in a trained way. But with editing, it’s more of a cerebral exercise. More thought is involved when you have to deal with visual relationships, sequence, rhythm, and spacing, etc. The real creation of my work takes place in the editing process. That’s where the ingredients come together to form an identity.

When creating this identity, I not only have to think about what I want to say, but also how I want to say it. It’s like speaking; there are numerous ways you can communicate a single sentence. How are images placed in relation to one another? How large are they printed, or how much white space surrounds it? Are the images repeated? What’s on the following page? The preceding page? Is there text? How are they positioned on the spread? All of these little choices impact the tone of your work. And that’s not even mentioning tactile factors like paper stock or cover material. I think that’s why I have such a deep love for photobooks because 1) they’re physical objects and 2) someone has obsessed over every aspect of that object.

I’m aware that my photographs lately have a quiet, detached, somewhat stripped-down quality to them. I think that’s just a subconscious rejection of my earlier days shooting a lot of street where I was constantly seeking crowded frames and complexity in my compositions. As I’ve grown older, I realize less is more and if I can do more by saying less, that’s even better. Now, the complexity I seek lies in the work as a whole and how all these little parts can form something fluid and layered, and not easily definable.

For Visions of Eden, I wanted the work to feel somewhat syncopated and wandering in thought. That meant finding a balance between my quiet static photographs and the movement and energy of the video stills, or balancing the coldness of the illustrations with the warmth of the family snapshots. The work needed to be cohesive but have enough ambiguity for it to take life in someone else’s imagination. Peoples’ lived experiences in regard to immigration and religion are so complex that they can’t be narrated in any one definitive way. Visions of Eden, hopefully, is a rejection of that singularity.

Yes, there’s definitely something special and intimate about flipping through a photobook! For your monograph, you recently released a second edition which is different from your first (redesigned, added images, etc.). Why did you decide to make it different? Was the editing mainly a solitary process?

The first edition was a partially hand-made object. Illustrations were printed on translucent vellum paper and then tipped into the gutter of the book. When you flip through the pages, those vellum sheets would overlap over certain images, creating a collage-like effect. That was my original concept for this book. Doing this, however, was so laborious and time consuming, and not to mention expensive! Regretfully, I wound up making only twenty copies of that first edition. I wanted the work shared with a wider audience so that’s why I decided to publish a second run.

The latest edition is more of a straight-forward production without the vellum paper. With this change in design, I had to reconfigure the layout. I took liberties in swapping out some images or adding new ones altogether. Also, a beautiful afterword was contributed by my friend, artist, writer, and curator Efrem Zelony-Mindell. I still feel so fortunate and grateful to have had my work seen and elevated by their words in my book.

For the most part, yes editing is quite a solitary process for me. But there does come a point when I feel it’s ready, where I share the work with a few trusted people. It’s always nice to have that outer support system. Much of Visions of Eden was created during my time in undergrad school so I had all sorts of feedback from peers and professors which I’m grateful for. But in the end, as the author, you ultimately have the final say in your work.

Given that Eden is a starting point and metaphor in the work, I was thinking about ideas of gardens, (forbidden) fruit, and movement of people.

How do you view yourself in relation to your place of birth? In your series, I see the most direct links in the letters, old photos where tropical foliage is present in the background, and the photo of the jackfruit (perhaps the only tropical fruit in this series).

I came to America when I was very young, about five years old. For my family and for many other families still living in the Philippines, America is seen as a sort of ideological Eden: a land of milk and honey, of wealth and excess. We all know that’s far from the truth. Every Eden has a caveat, a forbidden tree. Which leads me to ask: as an immigrant living in this country, what fruits were never intended for me?

I honestly don’t remember much about my childhood in the Philippines aside from fleeting memories of my relatives, the sounds of animals, the smell of rain and earth, the taste of my grandmother’s cooking. The identity that I carry with me now as a Filipino is not so much tied to the physical geography of a place but rather it is derived from a way of life, from shared stories, in the values we hold dear, passed on from generation to generation. This is a warm flame that lives on in me to this day as I write these words thousands of miles away from where I came.

Photographs have a way of shaping our memory and our relationship to the past, which in turn affects how we engage with the present. The family photographs and letters used in my book act as anchors in a meandering journey. They serve as landmarks that I can return to whenever I feel lost or need assurance so far away from “home”. They give me the comfort and affirmation that I need to navigate a space where I never really felt I belonged. The spread in my book­­ that you mentioned—the jackfruit on one side, and the Saran-wrapped apple on the preceding page—was a reference to my duality as both Filipino and American. It’s a reminder and an acknowledgment that I am a sum of many things, of many people who have shaped me. If I flourish in life, it’s because my roots were nourished by love.

I like how you mentioned photos as anchors or landmarks. Isn’t that why we create and photograph? To mark certain points in our lives and to envision possible futures, like a cartographer mapping an inner journey. Do you feel like you and your relationships with those you photographed changed through the process of making your works?

When my parents took pictures of our family, it wasn’t done solely in the name of remembrance; it also served as an affirmation of ourselves and our journey—a celebration. Every birthday, vacation, school ceremony, or even the seemingly insignificant events of daily life were all photographed or video-taped as a way of saying to ourselves, “Here we are. Look how far we’ve come. Look at the life we’ve made. And here’s the proof”.

Now, holding a camera and photographing my family through my own lens still carries all of that celebratory joy, but with so much more possibility. Before I really took photography seriously, I never realized its potential as a medium for introspection, but that’s ultimately what it has become for me. In taking pictures of my family, I not only clarify my own feelings about them, but the act of photography itself informs and builds on my relationship with each person. The camera is not a mere recording device, but a tool for understanding, processing, and even expressing love...or resentment. Though I may not be visible in my pictures, my presence is there: in my proximity, my gaze, my focus.

Does all of this impact my relationships? Absolutely. Photographing another person willingly always demands some degree of trust and vulnerability from both sides. There’s a silent dialogue that occurs which feels like an exchange of secrets. I think that’s why I often don’t feel comfortable photographing other people unless we’re very close. Usually my family is open enough to reveal themselves to me, other times what they give can feel quite guarded. That’s a constant negotiation. After the photograph is made though, nobody ever emerges the same person because each of us has relinquished something, no matter how small.

Being self-reflexive in photography is so important. I agree it should be a constant negotiation, but it’s something that bothers me these days – the power dynamic between the photographer and photograph, particularly for personal and documentary projects. More significantly, after the photograph has been made, who is really benefiting. But I guess if we are sensitive to that then perhaps we can navigate that tricky path and find a balance. 

Right, finding that balance is key and sometimes there are no clear-cut answers. That power dynamic is something I always have to be mindful of. As the photographer, you are exercising a certain role and position. At the end of the day, you’re the one essentially “taking” what you need and walking away. There’s an inherent violence or aggression in the act of taking someone’s picture, no matter how well-intended it may be. This aggression carries even greater weight when working, as you say, in a genre like documentary where representation is everything.

I remember an undergrad professor of mine, Nadia Sablin, introducing me to the work of Shelby Lee Adams—particularly his Appalachian Legacy series. Adams spent twenty-five years documenting the disadvantaged Appalachian communities in his home state of Kentucky, visiting the same families over a long period of time. Though the photographs are beautifully crafted, they pose many questions in regard to exploitation, representation, and the aestheticization of suffering. He is or was, after all, an artist thriving and profiting off of these photographs. Salgado is another that comes to mind. This was the first time I really stopped to think about the ethics of image-making. Who is benefitting from it all?

I think the search for this balance is something each photographer has to reckon with personally. Though each situation may vary with different factors that have to be weighed, and context that must be applied, you can always ask yourself these same ever-pertinent questions: am I representing people in a dignified way, and what are my intentions with these images? Communication (listening), building relationships, acknowledging your power, and respecting the people you photograph are all foundational things to consider when exercising your privilege with the camera.

Well said! The process of making photographs can be tricky to navigate yet rewarding. Any upcoming projects or ideas? What’s keeping you busy these days?

Oh, let’s just say I’m constantly juggling 3-4 ideas in my head at any given time, but ninety percent of the time they don’t ever lead to anything finished haha. This past year has been tough on everyone I’m sure. I’ve been dealing a lot with personal loss and grief and the compounded isolation brought on by the pandemic, so for months I’ve been making photographs organically as a subconscious response to these internal struggles. It’s more of an exploration of grief itself as a natural phenomenon and force—like time or gravity. Grief is something everyone will experience in life and each of us deals with it differently, but in the end we have to let it run its course. I see these photographs as a potential body of work that could materialize as a zine or book one day, so we’ll see where that goes.

Other than that, I’ve been working on an upcoming collaboration project with Cumulus Photo. Speaking of which, I saw your photograph featured in their latest zine, running to the edge of the world. Congrats on that! It’s beautiful. But yeah, just trying my best to keep busy and sane, and improving myself any way I can.

Thanks! Looking forward to your upcoming projects! Last question: any music to recommend?

I feel like my answer to this question can vary by the week. I go through phases where I exhaust whole albums on repeat until I get tired of them. So I’ll leave you with the two currently on my rotation: Angles by The Strokes, and Screamadelica by Primal Scream.

Thank you for your time!

Thank you for a lovely discourse. I had a lot of fun!

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