whispers in watercolour.

lee suji. nineteen. art major.

[mixminsoo]

.creating david

Saturday morning was a toss up for Jimin. He was either nursing a hangover and guest in his bed or already up and dresses, sketchbook tucked under his arm and ready to head down to the art studios for whatever reason he needed. 

Today was the latter, much to everyone’s surprise. 

But he had made a promise at the beginning of the semester and Jimin was one to honor promises even if it killed him. 

The freshmen art majors were always so cute, coming in all wide eyed and ready to begin on their passion and Jimin always tried his best to steer them the right way– as well as help them out a little in the social scene. 

But one particular freshman, a cute little thing, was a downright menace to all things sculpture, Jimin’s specialty. 

He took personal offense to his matter and it took him all of three seconds to hop on it and offer to help her. 

And that is where his Saturday is going. Holed up in the art studio being a good person and fellow artist. 

“Oh, miss Suji, your savior is here!” He hummed, bright and happy as he let himself into the studio. 

@acasuji

[acasuji-blog]

saturdays should be reserved for sleeping in, eating your weight in pizza and spending the entire day relaxing. saturdays should not be spent holed up in one of the studios, slaving away at an assignment.

and yet, here suji is, doing exactly that. the sun pours in through the windows, taunting her, rubbing the fact that she’s here, inside and not out, in her face. there are goosebumps forming on her arms and legs because with only one person in the studio, the air conditioner feels like the damn arctic. and yet, the backs of her thighs seem to be stuck to the stool where she’s sitting and staring at the hunk of clay on the table in front of her, looking every bit as daunting and intimidating as she remembers.

suji just has to laugh at her misfortune; hand her a brush or pencil and she’ll have no problem handing you a finished painting or sketch in no time. but a sculpture? she may as well quit now.

screw this project. screw it right back to the depths of hell from whence it came. the studio door bursts open, and suji jumps a little in surprise. she heaves a sigh of relief when jimin announces himself, grinning with equal parts excitement and relief.

“oppa, thank god you’re here!,” she says, standing and bowing a little, because as friendly as he might be, jimin is still her senior. “i was this close to curling up in the corner and crying. i thought you weren’t gonna come.”

[acasuji-blog]

where's my k at bith?

18: underwater kiss 

it’s evening, but the air is still warm, sticky with humidity and the last of the day’s heat. suji’s floating on the surface of the pool, staring up at the sky with not a care in the world. it’s the first time in a long time that she’s had time to breathe, no classes and assignments to worry about, no incomplete sketches and pestering brothers to annoy her about sleeping early. it’s the first time in a long time suji’s been given a moment to just enjoy herself, and like hell she won’t take advantage of it. 

she’s just about to shut her eyes and let the water pull her from one end of the pool to the other when she hears the sliding of a window pane, lisa’s head poking out of suji’s room upstairs to look right down at her. 

“what are you doing?” lisa calls out, amusement clear in her words. suji holds an arm up to wave, drops of water hitting her cheeks. “i’m coming down!” comes soon after. 

she’s busy inspecting the back of her hand when the doors open, and the sound of feet running across pavement and grass grows louder. suji has no time to prepare herself from the loud splash at the other end of the pool, and she’s left scrambling, limbs flailing as the water is disturbed so violently by lisa’s cannonball. 

“hey!” she cries out, wiping her eyes, but all protests die on the tip of her tongue when lisa resurfaces with a wide grin. suji rolls her eyes and swims to the edge of the pool, hoping she hasn’t seen the way she’s trying not to smile back. 

aww. are you mad at me? 

suji wishes she could keep her cool in lisa’s presence, but she’s so weak and resorts to turning around when lisa swims towards her, one hand still holding onto the edge because this far out, her feet have no way of grazing the floor of the pool. there’s a quiet chuckle behind her, and two hands reach out below the surface of the water to grab her hips and pull her away from the pool’s edge. 

“wh-- wait, no! i’m too short!” 

lisa’s laughter only gets louder, and suji’s limbs start to flail all over again as tries, but fails, to grab the wall again. when lisa turns her around to face her, she’s pouting, but desperately clinging to her shoulders like her life depends on it (and it does, it really does). 

“you’re mean.” close your eyes. “no.” close them! “why?” because. “because why?” fine. suit yourself. 

when suji feels herself being pulled down, she feels a twinge of panic because lisa’s got that look in her eye. she follows suit, watching lisa draw in a big breath, and when the water hits her chin, she shuts her eyes tight. 

the water’s as warm as the summer air, and for a moment, she feels weightless, barely registers the way lisa’s hands are still on her hips, but when she feels a pair of lips pressing up against hers, all the air is knocked out of her lungs, both literally and metaphorically. 

it’s more cliche than her tomato red cheeks, but suji does feel like everything’s stopped for a second, the shock knocking time right out of the ball park, only to retrieve it once they resurfaced. 

suji is embarrassingly out of breath; she’s never been good in the water, and this is proof of that. 

“what was that for?” she asks. lisa grins, and suji whines, feeling herself being pulled back down all over again.

[drewberrymohr]

gimme ur k bith ily

I want the k meme // currently accepting

2: cheek kiss

lisa doesn’t start to appreciate beauty much until she meets suji.

her old life is too busy focused on survival, too focused on making it day by day to notice the colors the sky turns or the beauty that sits in the craggy face of an old woman who sells fruit in the market. but suji notices everything.

they waste time speeding around the city. lisa drives and suji rides pillion, clinging onto lisa like a second city as they zoom past the traffic of seoul. 

they ride over yanghwa bridge.they ride over seongsan bridge.they ride over hangang bridge.they ride over banpo bridge.

suji has a story for each place and lisa loves to listen to them all.

in the end, they always end up by the banks of the river smoking cigarettes and indulging in junk food. if she closes her eyes, she can trick herself into believing it’s a cold day in thailand and she’s by the chao phraya again. she can pretend for a while, that the river is filled with  boats and ladies selling meals. she can remember the way the sun glints off the gilded roofs of the grand palace. 

but when she opens her eyes she’s met with a very different sight. apartment buildings and office dot the landscape and the foreign sight does nothing to quell the longing that sits heavily in the pit of her stomach.

“you miss thailand, huh?”

suji’s perceptive nature is a blessing and a curse. try as she might to hide herself, suji always finds her out and lisa doesn’t know if she likes feeling so vulnerable and naked as she is with suji.

“sometimes, yeah i guess.”

an understatement, a gross one at that. she knows suji can see the way she purses her lips when she lies and tries to downplay her desperation. a small hand laces fingers with lisa’s and lisa let’s out a breath when suji’s thumb rubs circles onto the back of her hand.

“you know i can ask my dad if we can go visit bangkok for vacation. it’ll be fun, it can be just two of us if you want!”

a smile spreads across her face gingerly. she’ll never quite understand why suji and her father are so generous with their funds. three years, and they’ve provided lisa and her mother with everything they could ask for  and in return received close to nothing. lisa pulls her hand out of suji’s grasp and wraps her arm around her small shoulders. lips meet suji’s cheek for seconds and she smiles at the look of her lipstick pressed against suji’s cheek.

“ah you’re sweet. but i don’t know. i’d probably miss seoul when by the time i got there. i’m probably meant to just sit in longing or something.”

[acasuji-blog]

don't want the k jus want dat hulk smash 😩‼️👌🏼🙌🏼

3: nose kiss 

                                                                                                    < december 2016 >

watch your step. eat some more. how’d you sleep? 

on paper, suji has three older brothers, but for her, it feels like she’s got four; and if she’s being honest, seokjin is probably her favourite. 

(she’d never admit that out loud though.) 

it’s one of those nights when everyone has decided to gather in the one spot for a standard group movie session. she’s been unusually quiet since the moment she’d toed her shoes off at the door, but in the rush to just pick something already! and choose something, no one seems to have noticed the way she’s taken refuge on one end of the couch, knees pulled up close to her chest, and jjanggu curled up around her sock-covered feet. there are half-eaten chip packets and open soda cans all over the floor of seokjin’s apartment, and there’s a loud ruckus over by the tv as two of his friends argue over whether tonight is the night for a marvel or dc marathon. 

suji’s drowned everything out, scratching the back of jjanggu’s ear in so much of a daze that she doesn’t even really notice seokjin sitting down next to her until he leans over and nudges her arm. he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to say anything, but he raises a questioning eyebrow. she shrugs, and rests her chin on her knee. 

“hungry?” he asks; she shakes her head. “sleepy?” she shakes her head. “did you run out of moss green paint again?” she shakes her head. “then what has occupied the mind of the the great lee suji?”

for once in her life, suji has no witty comeback, no snide comment, or cheeky grin to retaliate with. all that comes out is, well, the truth. 

“dad’s not gonna be home for christmas again this year.” 

it’s not like it’s anything new, but each time it happens, suji can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment every time she gets a call from god know where, her dad’s voice ringing in her ears when he lets her know he’s gonna be held back a couple more days. she can see seokjin looking at her with an expression that speaks volumes, but she can’t bring herself to look at him properly and tell him it’s no big deal. instead, suji sighs, and watches the tv flicker on with the opening credits of spiderman. 

by the time half of the movie has passed, suji has ended up sitting on seokjin’s lap, wrapped in a blanket, fighting off sleep while she rests her head on his shoulder. she’s long given up on the movie, too busy drowning in her thoughts to follow the plot properly, and for the last half hour, she’s been trying to come to terms with the fact that the family won’t be complete for yet another holiday season. 

suji is the last person to leave. she’s sprawled out along the couch, watching sleepily as seokjin goes around cleaning up, throwing empty chip packets and crumpled soda cans into a garbage bag with quiet, mumbled complaints. 

christmas is two weeks away, but she can’t wait for it to pass. 

when seokjin is done, he comes over and crouches down in front of her, resting his chin on the edge of the cushion her head is on. 

“i heard there’s a new gallery opening up over in apgujeong on monday. wanna go?” 

there’s a hint of a smile playing on suji’s lips, and that seems to be all the confirmation he needs. she shuffles forward and presses a kiss to the tip of his nose in silent thanks before pulling the blanket back up to her chin. 

“i’m staying the night, weeb oppa.”

[acasuga-blog]

I want the K

#14 - kiss along the hips

they had started to get comfortable not too long ago, but somehow it seems like the two of them had known each other for years. suga always found himself sneaking up to suji’s room nowadays in place of going out with his ‘friends’ on the weekends. even though he knows her father remains borderline apathetic to the older boy going up there in the first place, yoongi always feels like he should remain sneaky… you know…out of respect..

he stays up in the large and decorated bedroom the majority of the day, admiring suji’s artwork and relaxing doing little to nothing more. he’s willing to spare every minute of his day doing just that if it means he can spend it with the lee’s daughter. 

even though the weather is nice, the two of them stay tucked away inside together. the window is open allowing the fresh air to filter in and out of the room as the two stay completely oblivious to anything else going on in the outside world. 

they act like children. who teases each other the most? well, nobody can’t be too sure. most people actually never joke around with yoongi in the first place. the boy looks like he isn’t even capable of laughing at a joke, but suji has always been able to see right through that and that’s something suga really likes about her.

“you think you’re real funny huh suji-ya….”, he grins up fondly yet tired at the young girl who has just disheveled his hair for the nth time in a row now. there really had been no point fixing it again. the two of them had spent the last hour or so wrestling on the bed like kids. although he hadn’t been keeping score for pride’s sake, suji was definitely the one on top today. “you’re exhausting…you know that…”, shooting her another playful look, yoongi rolls on his side and then to his back, spreading out on top of suji’s mattress before pulling her on top of him to sit on his chest comfortably.

“come here you…..”

Keep reading

[acasuji-blog]

baby girl where's my k tho? give me

15: kiss in the rain 

the rain pelts down against her window, filling the room with a sound akin to white noise. suji can barely see what’s happening on the other side of the glass, but she doesn’t dare move away from the window, because today is the day yoongi is coming back home. 

(does this count as home? does he even consider seoul his home?) 

but as luck would have it, he’d be returning on the one day when the weather is absolutely, completely, unequivocally horrendous. naturally, every worst case scenario runs through her head, watching and waiting with equal parts nervousness and anxiety for the taxi to pull up at the gate. 

yoongi said ‘about 3′. 

suji looks down at her watch -- 3:04. 

she gnaws on her bottom lip, and fidgets with her fingers, twists rings, picks at loose threads, distresses already-distressed denim. the anticipation is killer. 

and then, just like that, the sound of crunching gravel drowns out the sound of rain, and before she can even think twice, suji is already up on her feet. 

bare soles run down carpeted stairs, across polished floorboards, down concrete steps until tiny stones start to dig deep into the balls of her feet. but suji doesn’t care that her shirt is soaked through the minute she’s stepped outside, or that her shorts hang heavy on her hips as the rain dampens denim. all she cares about is cutting this distance between her and the taxi in half, and half again. 

it’s so typical of yoongi to not have an umbrella, to be satisfied with haphazardly draping his hood over his head, cotton doing nothing to shield him from the rain. he’s barely shut the door closed, barely walked three feet away from the taxi, barely blinked before suji’s pounced on him, arms and legs wrapped around his neck and waist, pressing her lips to his as if she’d never have the opportunity to do it every again. 

(it was only a week, but god, did she miss him.) 

yoongi’s lips are chapped; suji has a strict lip care routine that she has stuck to everyday since she’d bought her first lip balm. he barely wears anything that isn’t some shade of black; clothing, for her, has to always be in various shades of pinks, oranges, and blues. he couldn’t draw a goddamn tree to save his life; she could probably draw his face with her eyes closed. 

they’re opposites, complete opposites, but suji really wouldn’t have it any other way. 

when she pulls back, she blinks drops of rain away to look at him as best as she can in this torrent. yoongi looks at her, dumbfounded, and she can’t help but laugh at him. 

“you’re late.”

[acasuji-blog]

acasuga:

[ ... ] 

“hello……..is someone there? my name is yoongi…..i’m mrs. kim’s son…….i’m trying to fix the lights……..w…are…are you hurt or something..?” he stands at the entrance of the room, eyes for once wide open in desperation to see anything but he doesn’t know at all what he’s looking at. 

so responsive to every little thing, suji jumps when she hears a knock at her bedroom door, damn near falling off her bed. she has no time to wonder whether it’s all in her imagination, if there really is a voice calling out on the other side, because before she knows it, her bedroom door is swinging open and it sounds like someone’s stepping inside.

with a muffled scream, suji buries herself completely under her blanket; it’s pitch black with or without it, but at least this way there’s a barrier between whoever’s just walked into her room and herself.

“don’t come any closer!” she cries out, voice shaky and full of anxiety. she presses her fist to her mouth to try and tamper down her sobbing, but it’s useless -- suji’s crying too much and is too scared to even consider herself a functioning human being.

it takes her a while to process the voice’s words: mrs. kim’s son? yoongi?

she thinks and thinks, and it all clicks eventually -- it’s the guy who’d suddenly moved in a little while back, the one she sees on campus here and there, the one who’s... barely even home?

“i-i’m... i’m okay,” suji says, a little softer, not even sure if she can be heard over the thunder. it sounds like a lie, but maybe if she says it out loud, she’ll get closer to actually believing it. “w-why are you here? a-aren’t you u-usually out all the time?”

she doesn’t mean for it sound so accusatory, but in her defence, yoongi is barely around in the evenings, always out at some party or another friend’s house. if mrs. kim hadn’t fretted and worried about him coming to stay before his arrival (only for her and her dad to reassure her that there was nothing to worry about, that he was more than welcome to take one of the spare rooms their giant house had) suji would’ve forgotten he even existed. slowly,

suji lowers the blanket and peeks over her knuckles. she can’t see a damn thing, but she can at least get a sense of where he’s standing.

“um... a-are you okay?”

[acasuji-blog]

waves don’t die (let me crash here for the moment) 

suji can hear the glass of her window rattling in its frame. the curtains have already been pulled shut and now she sits in a sea of pillows, blanket pulled all the way up to her chin. her hands are shaking -- her whole body is shaking -- and they jostle the earphones out of her ears constantly. the thunder is booming, loud enough that it feels like the whole house is shaking and about to collapse. she’s already turned up her music as loud as she can tolerate, but it’s not enough; she can still hear everything. 

her sketchbook lies open at her blanketed feet, but suji can’t find it in herself to pick up her pencil to draw anything. she knows it’ll distract her from the storm, but her hand just can’t seem to still enough for her to draw a straight line. 

there couldn’t have been a worse time for her family to not be home. it’s been almost two hours since she’d finished facetiming her dad, and just about three since she last talked to either of her brothers. by now it’s become routine for her to be the only one home, her dad always away on business, her brothers always opting to stay over at someone else’s house for the night, and while suji wouldn’t usually mind it, today, she does. 

the thunder is so loud it’s almost as if the storm is happening right there in her own room. suji whimpers and presses the palms of her hand firmer against her ears, tears rolling down her cheeks as she muffles her sobs against her blanket. 

march ‘17 -- @acasuga

[acaseokjin-blog]

아빙아빙! @acasuji, may ‘17

summer feels heavy between his fingers. it rests on his shoulders like a burden to bear, leaves sticky sun kisses on warm cheeks, exposed neck. he’s used to it — this sweltering heat — but there’s no love lost between him and the dog days. it’s why he’s here, back pressed against a wall to take in the shade of the awning above, counting down the seconds until she’s meant to arrive for their planned 빙수 date.

( kkt → 수지동생 ) lee suji where are you ( kkt → 수지동생 ) 오빠 is dying in this heat!! ( kkt → 수지동생 ) have mercy ( kkt → 수지동생 ) emoji

lighthearted tone, serious words. dramatics are out of the ordinary, but the weather calls for the urgency — he’s never handled the warmth all that well.

it’s not like suji to be so late. in the back of his mind, worry eats at a good nature; worry over a little, pretty girl with a heart-stopping smile, the smile that made you look twice.

and then he hears purposeful, pointed footsteps coming his way and suji’s high, fervent tone call his name and his distress evaporates into the sun. “ya, lee suji.” ire is poorly feigned, given away by the way the corners of his mouth tug upwards — it’s as natural as breathing, to feel at ease in this girl’s presence. “about time you got here. i’ve been standing here for so long the workers inside keep looking at me funny. come on, squirt, i’m dying.”

[acasuji-blog]

suji runs like the non-existent wind down and around streets and alleys, weaving around people and carts. her phone chimes in her pocket, and without stopping, she reads and texts, somehow avoiding collision with anything and anyone.

( kkt → 진진오빠 ) sorryyyy ( kkt → 진진오빠 ) i’m cominggg ( kkt → 진진오빠 ) emoji

it had to be today of all days that she overslept; she knows she had multiple opportunities last night to but her brush down and call it a night, but in her defence, the painting is for seokjin. she’d finished it last night, has it rolled up in the poster tube that’s currently knocking against the small of her back, and she’s hoping that he’ll forgive her for being late to their 빙수 date.

suji rounds the corner and approaches the shop, the soles of her sneakers slapping the concrete with fervency, and by the time she’s reached seokjin, she’s so out of breath, she hunches over, hands on her knees, panting as her hair falls over her eyes.

“sorry,” she huffs out, laughing breathlessly. “here.” when she’s certain she’s not about to pass out, suji straightens up, cards her fingers through her hair before slipping the carry strap of the poster tube over her head to hold the entire thing out to seokjin. for so long, she was a firm believer in her ability to resist falling into the trap of seokjin’s weird anime obsession, and yet here she stands with a rolled up painting of a particular bald-headed superhero, seven episodes into one punch man, with an unnatural determination to finish the whole thing by the end of the week. “you remind me of him, so... this is for you. also, can i get the oreo cheesecake one this time?”

[acasuji-blog]

acawonwoo:

art in renaissance italy sounds funny coming from her, a smile creeping up on his lips at the attempt. but it’s not exactly his place to judge.

“i would mind.” wonwoo watches the way she rocks on her feet, studying her from head to toe as she remains focused on the book from just a few inches away. from his reach, at least. it doesn’t look so fun on her end having the disadvantage of the book being a whole foot away from her grasp.

it’s not like he won’t give it to her, though. but timing’s important in situations like this one, especially regarding the company of a stranger. at least that’s his excuse for wanting to give her a hard time.

should you?

be the bigger person, asshole.

the corner of his lips quirks up just a tad more.

not just that kind.

“i’m just kidding.” a little. he reaches up and sets his hand on the top of the spine, fingers gathering the book with ease as he pulls it out of its confines. easy peasy. wasn’t all that hard now, was it?

at least for him.

on the contrary for the girl, however. wonwoo doesn’t let his hand swing down to offer the book her way - yet. rather, he lays the book horizontally flat on top of the rest of the array in that row, free arm tucked behind his back as he looks down at her the whole time. their eyes lock, face deadpan when he finally allows his hand to join the other down below. dramatically so.

this is good for him, he thinks. getting a kick out of this whole scenario (though not literally, unlike before - hours ago). compensation enough for what’s happened earlier today.

what’s your final blow?

he leans against the bookcase now, head resting on the topmost shelf as he crosses his arms over his chest once again. you’re a freshman, aren’t you? there’s a raise of a brow in further observation. you look young. 

which should be enough cause for a ridiculous request, if he’s correct.

“call me oppa first.”

suji’s eyebrows arch up in surprise. oh. maybe giant dude wasn’t the best person to ask then. she stops rocking forwards and back and lowers her hand back down to her side, clearing her throat quietly because this situation became awkward all of a sudden. but then...

just kidding.

she’s perked up all over again, and just like that, all thoughts of failing her term paper have disappeared. suji watches as he pulls the book out, and ignores that little hint of envy that hits her at the way he can do it so nonchalantly. giant dude does it so casually, but she’s not going to dwell on that right now.

a thank you is on the tip of her tongue, but it isn’t given a chance to manifest itself into a proper verbal statement, because right then and there, giant dude is laying the book down, still out of reach. suji’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“wait what?”

her eyes shift from the bookshelf to giant dude, and she’s about to protest when he beats her to it.

what the hell kind of request is that?

in the span of a minute, suji contemplates leaving sans book. she could find the book online, order it, wait a week or two for it to arrive, and then maybe scrape through with a passing grade at the last minute. it’s plausible; it’s possible, but she’s already here, with the book so close (but so far), so how hard could it be to call a complete stranger oppa this one time?

suji steels herself and takes another deep breath. if she doesn’t get a perfect mark on this paper, she’s dropping out for sure.

“please can i have the book... oppa?”

[acasuji-blog]

draw me like one of your french gi-- grow up! 

the sound of pencil scratching on paper is quickly drowned out by muffled sniggering coming from suji’s left, and she rolls her eyes midway through sketching out a bicep. they’ve been at this for not even half an hour, but already, jinyoung’s having difficulty staying composed. if she looks around the room, it seems as if he’s the only one finding this funny -- that, or everyone else is just really good at keeping a straight face. 

suji tries to concentrate on drawing, but when she can see shaking shoulders in her peripheral as jinyoung tries to stifle laughter behind is fist, it’s kind of hard to. she glances up at the model, standing in the centre of a circle of easels, and wonders if he can hear her friend’s badly concealed laughter. 

he’s nudging her shoulder and suji is trying to ignore him, but she knows if she does, he’s gonna keep going until he’s completely shoved her off the stool. pencil tip frozen on her paper, she looks -- glares -- in jinyoung’s direction, mouthing what. he hands her a folded slip of paper, and christ if this is another doodle of a dick... 

it’s another doodle of a dick. 

(and no, that is not suji trying not to laugh too.) 

@acajin

[acasuji-blog]

acawonwoo:

wonwoo can see her perfectly fine. at least that’s how peripheral vision works, anyway.

but today’s been awfully slow for him to function without snapping at anyone, and it would have been unfortunate if she’d been on the shorter end of the stick for anything coming from him.

wait.

he pretends not to, however, finding solace in seeing anyone but himself struggle today. every mishap had been handed over in his favor as opposed to everyone else he’s seen and known thus far, coffee stain on his white tee and crooked specs from an earlier altercation glaring right back at anyone who’d dare to stare first.

being poked in the rib doesn’t give him much more of a choice though, a concerned look etched on his face as he looks directly to his left - and then down at the girl. just for emphasis of the current vertical challenge; another guilty pleasure he won’t admit to out loud. “sorry, didn’t see you there,” he lies, index finger pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose only for them to slide back down.

“what’s up?” a rhetorical question, somewhat.

oh right, me.

what’s up?

this guy’s got to be kidding. suji takes a deep breath and lets it out very slowly, eyes shutting when she pulls the pen away from giant dude’s sigh. when she opens her eyes, she forces herself to stay calm, keep a straight face, maybe even smile a little (not a lot, because this guy doesn’t deserve a full smile from her), and look back up at him.

“um, sorry to bother you,” she says, voice quiet because this is the library after all. “but, uh, could you... can you do me a favour?”

on any other day, this would be considered humiliating and downright embarrassing. but suji’s desperation overpowers all of that right now, because this book? she’s not gonna let herself be beaten by it. she rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet, neck hurting a little from having to look up for so long.

(so she stood up on her tiptoes. cut her some slack!)

“that book up there. the one with the frayed spine.” suji points up at the shelf above her head, and feels her insides deflate when her finger doesn’t even come close to the top shelf. “the one that’s called art in renaissance italy.” another deep breath, another exercise in self-control.

“would you mind... getting that for me?”

[acasuji-blog]

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

[acasuji-blog]

is butter a carb? (probably, but it’s not gonna stop me from eating it)

the sound of graphite scratching on paper is drowned out by the sound of jiyeon’s voice, and suji promises she’s listening. there’s a half-eaten tub on ice cream and two dirty spoons on her bedroom floor, a pending sticky mess that suji can’t be bothered worrying about just yet, not when she’s so close to perfecting this goddamn nose. 

her bedroom walls are littered with old sketches, photos and posters, but there’s one spot, just above her headboard, that she’s particularly proud and fond of. it’s polaroid after polaroid of her, and jiyeon, and their friends, scattered amongst weird postcards that take her a minute to interpret sometimes when she gets them, but she loves them all the same. there are ticket stubs for movies she’d never even heard of before jiyeon had dragged her off to some screening; most of them were subtitled, and suji almost lost track trying to read everything, but she walked out of the theatre feeling giddy and lightheaded in the best way, because she was walking out with her arm linked with jiyeon’s, listening to her best friend almost wax poetic about the bangin’ cinematography. 

(”suji, i’m telling you. it doesn’t get any better than that.” 

“i know. i believe you, unnie.”)

jiyeon’s sitting by her bedroom window; it’s wide open because there’s a lit cigarette held between two slender fingers and the scent hits suji’s nose every now and again when a spring breeze passes through. there’s a camera set up on the other end of the room directed right at her, but she’s not quite sure if it’s on and recording, or if jiyeon is waiting for something spectacular to happen in this drab routine of suji’s, which consists mainly of calling her best friend to come over and do nothing but sit in her room to sketch, film and talk. 

today is no exception, and the both of them have fallen into position automatically, one manning the window, the other manning the bed. suji cuts jiyeon off mid-sentence. 

“unnie, stay still. i’ve almost got this.”

@acajiyeon

[imdreamingofwhatwecouldbe]

[acasuji-blog]

y’all.... i’m gonna dive in and say like this post for a random starter from yours truly because all i’ve done for the last two hours is watch those ‘try not to laugh’ videos, eat lasagne, drink coffee, and do nothing productive. the shame.

[acasuji-blog]

bop bop bop, bop to the top! 

suji doesn’t hold grudges, isn’t quick to anger (usually), and is a firm believer in forgiving and forgetting. but whoever is responsible for these wack-ass height genes in her family -- the ones given to her, specifically -- deserves a long and slow eternity in the deepest pits of hell. 

it’d be just her luck that the one book, the best book, for her term paper would be on the top shelf, and of course she would have chosen today of all days to wear the flattest shoes she owns. she looks down at her feet and curses the dirty white canvas because they are doing nothing to help her out. screw the extra cushioning and the two-for-one sale she bought them at -- they’re useless. 

suji heaves a sigh: a quiet one, and way too restrained to be satisfying. suddenly her bag feels so much heavier on her back, and she can feel the beginnings of a headache as she glares at the spine of the book she needs, all the way up there on the top shelf. it’s taunting her and she knows it; it’s looking down at her with a smug grin, knowing it’s the one thing she needs to score that perfect mark, and the one thing she has no hope of reaching. ever. 

there’s movement beside her, and when suji takes a moment to stop lamenting over her pending failed paper, she flinches, eyes wide as she takes a step back because, 

“what the hell?” 

suji doesn’t believe in god, but if she did, she’d be sending a quiet prayer in thanks up to the almighty for bringing her this giant of a dude to save her and her paper. quiet steps take her to where giant dude is standing, and she’s twirling her pen between her fingers in anticipation. 

“hey,” suji whispers. “excuse me. h--” 

and then it dawns on her, and realisation smacks her right in the face: giant dude can’t see her. screw her ancestors. screw them right back to hell. suji shuts her eyes and sighs again before poking giant dude’s side with the end of her pen. 

“down here.” 

@acawonwoo