#i miseed the sweet time where it could get lower

[sanstropfremir]

ok this took way longer than i expected because i got sidetracked looking at paintings and reading poetry and just admiring the mv, but it's finally finished!! let's talk about

higher

✨

i'm going to draw your attention to a few things.

firstly, these verses from rime of the ancient mariner by samuel taylor coleridge, published 1834:

The harbour-bay was clear as glass,

So smoothly it was strewn!

And on the bay the moonlight lay,

And the shadow of the Moon.

The rock shone bright, the kirk no less,

That stands above the rock:

The moonlight steeped in silentness

The steady weathercock.

And the bay was white with silent light,

Till rising from the same,

Full many shapes, that shadows were,

In crimson colours came.

A little distance from the prow

Those crimson shadows were:

I turned my eyes upon the deck—

Oh, Christ! what saw I there!

Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat,

And, by the holy rood!

A man all light, a seraph-man,

On every corse there stood.

This seraph-band, each waved his hand:

It was a heavenly sight!

They stood as signals to the land,

Each one a lovely light;

This seraph-band, each waved his hand,

No voice did they impart—

No voice; but oh! the silence sank

Like music on my heart.

secondly, this ivan aivazovsky painting, chaos (the creation), c. 1841:

and thirdly, the memorial of percy shelley, who drowned in a boating accident at age 29, in 1822:

there's a common conflation between the romantic and the pastoral in the general cultural consensus because the pastoral a) has been around as an art term longer than romantic, and b) romanticism does use some similar imagery. but there is a key difference: the pastoral is specfically an idealization of 'the simple shepherding life,' often for high class and urban audiences who have no conception of the details of this life includes. one of the more famous examples is christopher marlowe's a passionate shepherd to his love, published in 1599:

Come live with me and be my love,

And we will all the pleasures prove,

That Valleys, groves, hills, and fields,

Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the Rocks,

Seeing the Shepherds feed their flocks,

By shallow Rivers to whose falls

Melodious birds sing Madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of Roses

And a thousand fragrant posies,

A cap of flowers, and a kirtle

Embroidered all with leaves of Myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool

Which from our pretty Lambs we pull;

Fair lined slippers for the cold,

With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and Ivy buds,

With Coral clasps and Amber studs:

And if these pleasures may thee move,

Come live with me, and be my love.

The Shepherds’ Swains shall dance and sing

For thy delight each May-morning:

If these delights thy mind may move,

Then live with me, and be my love.

whereas romanticism is a more pointedly specific movement that was active from around 1800 to 1850, primarily focused on intense emotion and catharsis as the primary experiential output of an artwork. which most prominently manifested in a deep fascination and glorification of the natural environment and historical nostalgia. the movement sprung from the german sturm und drang (literally storm and drive/stress) period of the late 1760s to early 1780s, which was a direct reaction to rationalism and enlightenment. romanticism had similar impulses; it was also a revival of medievalism and a reaction against the looming urban sprawl and mechanization of the industrial revolution. a typical romantic poem from one of the originators of the english movment william wordsworth, composed upon westminster bridge, september 3, 1802, originally published 1807:

Earth has not any thing to show more fair:

Dull would he be of soul who could pass by

A sight so touching in its majesty:

This City now doth, like a garment, wear

The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,

Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie

Open unto the fields, and to the sky;

All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.

Never did sun more beautifully steep

In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;

Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!

The river glideth at his own sweet will:

Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;

And all that mighty heart is lying still!

this romantic fascination with nature was underpinned by the philosophy of the sublime, generally agreed to be first treatised by edmund burke in 1756, the theory was also written about by kant and hegel. in the simplest of terms, the sublime is a quality of greatness beyond calculation, imitation, and human comprehension. the sublime is twofold; the greatness of the ocean is beautiful, but its power is also terrifying, and the experience of the sublime is to feel those two at once. to be in awe and also to be horrified of its ability to sink ships and drown a life in a tempermental change of tide.

let's take a quick detour to talk about

clothing

in the present day we have become much more lax thanks to the aesthetic movement in the late nineteenth century, but back in the early victorian period there are still highly structured rules about when and what clothing one can wear in public. and the clothing itself is also highly structured. anyone with a passing understanding of the victorian era knows about the whole flashing of the ankle thing and corsets galore, and it is true that the general day to day garments cover a lot of area. for men in particular, this manifests in no less than three layers in public at all times: shirt, waistcoat, and suit jacket, with a coat or mantle overtop in colder temperatures. this also includes a variation of a neck tie (depending on what year), hat, gloves, and any other decided upon accessories (this can also include a corset and other padded structural underpinnings). an important tangent to mention here is that this is the uniform of the upper classes, although the rules do apply to the lower classes if they wanted to appear 'sophisticated.' the working man's uniform was also shirt, waistcoat, trousers, but the difference here is in the textiles themselves; the colours tended to be much more drab, with less complicated patterns. obviously due to the price fabric itself, but also due to the labour of laundry. an indicator of class here is the white shirt itself and its pristine implications. (there is a longer conversation here about the invention of neckties and detachable collars and cuffs, but that's for another day). the silhouettes are very important to note here in the higher mv, as they are directly referential to the 'romantic poet' archetype of loose shirt and tight pants that we see in popular culture. but as i've just said, the reality is that men of the era were not dressed like this out in public. this look is essentially underwear; the implications are salacious. so where did this come from? well, we can blame it mostly on lord byron, who by all accounts was the first western 'rockstar.' notoriously called 'mad, bad and dangerous to know' by lady caroline lamb (a married women he publically had an affair with), byron was openly bisexual and deeply hedonistic with a lot of questionable habits, but his poetry was so popular that he was known to have women following him in the street and gathering in large quanities to see him at salons. and this was close to three decades before lizstomania. his close friends and contemporaries included percy and mary shelley, with whom he lived with abroad in italy for some time (this living arrangement resulted in the writing of both frankenstein and john polidori's the vampyre). byron's reputation was so eclipsing that the image of the lush poet lazing in his undergarments has become its own genre of romantic, slightly removed from the movement byron was writing in. it's also worth it to point out that there are no official portraits of byron dressed like this from the time. the visual assumption is somewhat apochryphal. now let's get into some specifics. a.c.e is not unfamiliar to this silhouette; as previously mentioned in this post i wrote about their styling, the boxy loose upper and fitted lower is their general mode for their styling because of its emphasis on legs. cactus was the most extreme example of this, and to prove my point, this specific silhouette is extremely common in classical ballet:

1. vaslav nijinsky, giselle, 1911 2. nehemiah kish, george balanchine's ballo della regina, 2011/12

higher fits very neatly into this same category: we have an emphasis on the legs through tightly fitted garments and also through light reflective textile, as well as a secondary emphasis on arm and shoulder movements with looser fit shirts. plus, the shirts are made from fabrics that have good drape and flow, and mimic the visual effects of water:

there are also several instances of scale patterning and wetlook hair styles, further elabourating on the siren theme. and the jewelry is the same, purposefully cut clear stones for oceanic sparkle or pearls, the gem directly born from water, as highlighting accents to specific parts of the body - namely eyes, hands, and torso:

the body jewelry also serves a double purpose in addition to being sparkly; it gives a semblance of shape to their torsos so their movements aren't totally lost in the shroud of their shirts, and it also invokes some of that salacious element that us as a modern audience doesn't necessarily perceive in the same way when we see a man wearing only a shirt. all of these points are especially prominent in the stage costuming. concerning the veils, these are an aesthetic choice following the theme of depicting water without actually using water. the song has a very breathless quality to it, and the lyrics directly make reference to water and breathlessness, so it only makes sense to have a physical manifestation of struggling to breathe.

now let's talk about

mise-en-scène

unlike most kpop mvs, I would argue that higher is not a spectacle in what we normally see spectacle to be. the overwhelming visual saturation of goblin (and the goblin remix) is more in line with what we expect, but how do you follow that, top it? the answer is that you don't. you aim for something with a completely different feel, which is exact what they did with higher.

the performing arts did not escape romanticism. the very start of the movement, sturm und drang, is actually named from a specific play written by friedrich maximilian klinger that premiered in 1777. the plays of the brief period are characterized by extreme and passionate emotions, and were siblings to one of the most famous genres of theatre, the melodrama. meant to appeal directly to the emotions of the audience using sensationalist plots and stock characters, the melodrama was the predominent form of entertainment in victorian england and gradually developed a specific form of its own. in this period we also start to see the development of 'stagecraft' into the recognizable form that it takes today. footlights, limelight/spotlighting, the separation of house and stage lighting, fly galleries, elevator platform mechanics, and the first (purported) western use of rear projection are all innovations of the late 18th and 19th centuries, as melodramas were known to have very intricate and spectacular stagings. and to go along with these stagecraft mechanics we see the rise in designated stage crews, which were predominantly off-duty sailors looking to make money. the rope systems that made up the fly galleries were very similar to that on ships, and much of the terminology and supersitions crossed over: this is the origin of the term 'rigging' being used for suspending set elements, and also the origin of the 'don't whistle in a theatre' superstition. as sailors communicated with whistle patterns on ships, the same system was adopted for changing scenery, and therefore whistling a random pattern could potentially drop a setpiece on an unsuspecting victim.

so with all this backstory out of the way, what is the very first full location we see? a stage, complete with forced perspective via the painted fabric legs (the side panels) and borders (the wavy upper panels). we even have a flat painted backdrop with a projection screen and hanging overhead lamps. there's also a second interior set, a desk in what looks to be a study of some kind. bit self explanatory on this one, taking the poet notion on the nose.

the locations have a bit of an obtuse arc, but it's there when you look for it. it starts interior spaces, where the ideas of sublime attempted to be recreated for the viewer. then it moves to transitory spaces; portions of nature isolated from a whole environment, interjections of human architecture into natural spaces:

(the white hut structure in the greenhouse is reminiscent of a skene (literally hut/tent), which is the structure at the back of the stage in ancient greek theatre used for the actors to change their masks and costumes. it was originally temporary, but slowly transformed into permanent stage architecture)

and then finally outdoors, into the sublime itself:

jwm turner, crossing the bridge, 1815

lastly,

lighting

there's a very clear lighting pattern here, primarily in light and dark. the base colour story is fairly simple complementary pairs; there's a lot of purple/red and green, and blue and yellow/amber, with everything relatively on the same tonal level. there are deliberate interjections of heavily saturated red for specific effect. there are also, most notably, a 'dark' version of all the sets. obviously as a reference to the eclipse that we see in the mv and in the concept photo series, but also as a reference to that darker undercurrent of the sublime, the upsetting, the uncanny, and the terrifying:

And the bay was white with silent light/Till rising from the same/Full many shapes, that shadows were/In crimson colours came.

[juminly]

Solace (Jumin x MC Smut)

Sooooo this is a repost of an old ficlet that was removed because of the gifs I included in it for extra spice. I kept all the spice in links so I hope this doesn’t get removed like last time T_T  💜

Masterlist

This was part of a role-play by me as Jumin, @jylcie @jylcie-art as MC and @camilastuf as the supporting MC.

Warning : links include spicy/smutty GIFS. They are included for more mise en scène. 

Jumin: Where have you been all night, kitten?  Answer carefully.

MC: I'm sorry, I was so tired I couldn't greet you when you came from work. Really, I was asleep.

Jumin: That doesn’t sound so convincing love. I have been here waiting for you all night, and you’ve just come through the door... Are you trying to tell me that I’m drunk? Is that it?   GIF

Jumin: - stands up and steps behind her, caressing her chest, squeezing one of her breasts - You are too sleepy to greet me? - he whispers in her ear. She can smell the smell of wine wafting from him, mixing with his natural scent and fading cologne - You wish not to see me... is that it, love?

MC: gasps at the sudden but not unwelcome  touch, and shivers involuntarily you know that's not true, love...    GIF

Jumin : His hand travels down her chest, trailing over her stomach and dipping into the curves he desired. She can feel the heat of his skin through the silky fabric of her nightgown. I’m afraid I don’t believe a word you’re saying, my dear. I have to confirm it myself now. Don’t I? He presses his hand against her core. His fingers grazing over her panties, so tantalizing yet drunkenly aggressive. It was unlike his usual gentle touch yet he still did not hurt her. His breath was ragged and his growing erection pressing against her back.

MC: Feels her heart drum wildly in her chest and her knees start to lose their balance as his fingers find her most sensitive spot, the smell of wine in his breath and the warmth of his body almost intoxicating her   J-Jumin...

Jumin : She can’t keep track of his actions. She found herself spun around, back pressed against the wall. He almost had her entirely undressed and she couldn’t even think of how he was able to unravel her so quickly. You utter my name with such need yet you fall asleep without waiting for me. Have you no shame, darling? I’m offended. He starts licking and sucking on her neck, drunk on the smell and taste of her skin. He drank her like she were his favorite wine and his only sustenance. He kissed her and nipped at her neck in lazy strokes with yet, an odd sense of urgency.    GIF

MC: lets out a ragged gasp as she felt his tongue on her skinI'm sorry, love...how do I make it up to you?   GIF

Jumin: chuckles You’re so sweet darling. You think you can make up for what you’ve done? mischief in his voice, laced with desire, his fingers find their way through her soaked panties You can’t. You reap what you sow, kitten.

MC: instantly loses her balance as his hands finally touches her core, she finds her hands grasping for balance on his arms as she lets out a small whimper

Jumin: As she wraps her hand around his neck, he pushes his fingers deep inside of her Are you trying to get me to forgive you, my love? I couldn’t hear you. One. Two. Three fingers inside of her, making her cry out Louder my love... Not loud enough yet.

MC : she grabs onto him for dear life, her body reacting to his touch and the way he stretched her caused her to cry out f-forgive me... She manages to say through her whimpers

Jumin: Not a chance my love. Not until you’ve lost your voice and you can’t even move your limbs. He pulls his fingers out of her and she moans from the loss of that sweet sensation filling her up. Although he’s drunk, he carries her in a swift movement and throws her on the bed, his eyes glazing over her body like she was the most delicious thing he’s ever seen. The gleam in his eyes was dangerous and with it alone, she knew she was done for. He had her exactly where he wanted. Do you fear me, dearest love of mine?

MC: she shivers with anticipation as she becomes aware of his eyes watching her. She bites her lower lip and shakes her head no...I trust you.

Jumin : he chuckles, an evil smirk appearing on his face as he runs his tongue over his upper lip You shouldn’t, kitten. he flips her around and smacks her behind. He didn’t hit her that hard but he knew just how to make it sharp, inflicting a stinging pain that stimulated her nerves. It was oddly pleasurable in its own way and he knew it was one of her guilty pleasures.   GIF

MC: she felt her heart skip a beat as she saw that familiar glint in his eyes. She yelped slightly when he flipped her over and whimpered at the sharp pain, arching her back slightly at the sudden onslaught of sensations from that  one slap

GIF Jumin: She can hear the metal of his belt as he unbuckled it. He was undressing himself and he wouldn’t let her enjoy the show. She wouldn’t dare turn her head to look at him. She trembled, feeling his presence looming over her. In one brief moment, his naked body was pressed against hers, claiming her, planting wet kisses all across her back and her shoulders Do you really love me, kitten? Do you wish to always be mine? He whispered against her ear and she trembled even harder underneath him. Tell me... I need to know. She could feel him thrusting his hips against her backside, rubbing himself on her back, his need was fueling hers. She knew he was covering all her back with marks, reminding her who she truly belonged to.

GIF

MC: she closed her eyes and reached one of her hands behind her to run her fingers through his hair I love you. I love you. I am yours, and always will be.   GIF

Jumin: entranced by her words and her taste, Jumin's senses were heightened, so fierce with his touch, yet she felt a vulnerable yearning coming from him. He ached for the validation and reassurance that were her words and the moment she said them, he snapped and flipped her on her back. Assaulting her chest and her neck and finally, capturing her lips in a silent plea for more of her love. He spoke to her without words and she knew he was telling her in his own drunken ministrations, that he couldn't live without her.   GIF

Jumin: He kissed her fervently, letting her mind go wild. She wasn't aware of anything but his presence, his body pressed against her and his heart beating so hard, she could feel small vibrations echoing on her chest. I love you... I need you... My love, please... He captured her lips once again and sucked on the bottom one, inflicting a slight ache. He growled in his chest so loud, sounding like a vicious feline ready to attack his prey. Her lover's ferocity earned him a smile, and in that moment, everything became undone for him... yet so complete.

I’ve been going through a pretty bad block lately but wanted to share this with you ^_^ May Jumin continue to poke hearts 💜

[margridarnauds]

What's your ranking for all Japanese Marie Antoinette roles you know?

Thank you so much for asking this, since it lets me talk about some of my favorite musicals! 

[warning for some critical talk + references to sexual harassment, because.....1789′s take on Artois.]

1. Marie Antoinette das Musical (Rena Sasamoto) - Having an entire musical DEVOTED to her really helped as far as making her a real character, and in my opinion, it shows very well with her portrayal. Elegant, generous, and kind, but also stubborn and naive. She can be very infuriating, but I think that, in the end, the audience can see WHY Fersen loves her so much and why even Margrid is able to feel pity and respect for her. I also give it props for actually showing that, by the time the musical begins in 1784, Antoinette HAD given up her partying in favor of her family. In many ways, it’s a more mature take on Antoinette that I think we also see traces of in Azure Moment and Kaname Ouki’s portrayal in 1789. She does still struggle with the urge to spend, but she’s resolved to be a better queen; the tragedy is that it’s too late. Probably one of my favorite Antoinette portrayals in general. 

2. Azure Moment - NOT a musical that I discuss very often, which is a pity because it’s very worth discussing. (A guilty admission: I STILL need to watch it with subs.) But I do feel like Antoinette is dealt with very evenly there; she’s still frivolous, yes, but there’s something under the surface, she’s much more even, not as high-energy or brainless as some of the portrayals lower on the list are, and it’s genuinely sad to see her relying on Ademar and Simon after all her friends abandon her. (Also, on a purely aesthetic level, I FEEL like she resembles the historical Antoinette a little more? She has a much squarer face than I generally see, which I feels suits her very well.) It’s not the BIGGEST role, given that this is a musical that isn’t REALLY about her, but I think it did some interesting things with how little she is there. I felt like she was perhaps a little smarter than Antoinette’s generally allowed to be, a little more intuitive, and though I don’t think we’ll EVER see a Takarazuka show showing Antoinette’s pragmatism and subtle streak of ruthlessness...it was a little refreshing to see something that didn’t seem ENTIRELY cookie cutter. 

3. 1789 (Kaname Ouki) - Look. I’ll be blunt. I’m fairly certain that her singing has nearly shattered several glasses in my apartment. She hits that high note at the end of the Je Mise Tout reprise and several neighborhood cats shriek at what they suspect is one of their friends in danger. I wish that we could have heard what she sounded like in the 2016 album, but alas. For reasons that NO ONE CAN EVER FULLY KNOW, we didn’t. BUT. BUT. I do like that she plays Antoinette a little bit more down to earth, it makes her transition in Act 2 very plausible. I feel like, even in her partying days in Act 1, she isn’t really INTO *it* per se, she’s more interested in it because it’s a distraction, but she’s slowing down. (Which makes sense, given that, historically, by 1789 Antoinette HAD fully given up her partying ways, but alas.) I think that her argument with Fersen really shows a certain genuiness, as a lonely woman who’s terrified that the one person who really has her best interests at heart is abandoning her. And she does have a nice, silvery voice when she doesn’t force it, and that gives her a somewhat eerie sense to her “Je vous rends mon âme”, which is sealed by her self-awareness, turning away from the audience and resolvedly walking away after the sound of a guillotine falling is played, fully aware of her fate. 

4. 1789 (Takarazuka) - I felt like Manaki Reika did a WONDERFUL job balancing Act 1 Antoinette’s carelessness with Act 2 and, in my opinion, probably had the best balance of acting and singing overall. There’s a reason why she is an absolutely legendary Top Star, and she shows it here. “But Rachel,” you might ask, “Why is she rated so lowly? Especially when you spent the first few sentences of the last one savaging Kaname Ouki?” And I feel like the reason is, in this case, the writing. Her dialogue with Artois, for example, indicates that she knows that he uses aphrodisiacs on women, she KNOWS what his reputation is, and she still lets Olympe be in the same area as him. Unmarried, unprotected Olympe who doesn’t have the social standing to recover. (Note: Historical!Antoinette was faced with a similar situation re: one of her ladies in waiting and Artois, and she had the woman sent away to Paris except when it was absolutely necessary. Why? Because historical!Antoinette CARED about the people around her.) And, then you have the bit during the 1st act finale where she says that her suffering is the same as that of the common people, and you just have to sit back and go “....really Antoinette? Really?” As an actress, as a singer, she was GREAT, and there are little touches that she leaves that are great (a personal favorite is the Raku performance, where she is visibly horrified and shaken by the guillotine at the end of “Je vous rends mon âme”), but...unfortunately...the writing. Which is why I would LOVE to see her do Toho 1789 one of these days, though it would inevitably be heartbreaking for me since it’s VERY unlikely I would be able to see it. 

5. 1789 (Ryuu Masaki) - Masao’s infectious spark is DEFINITELY present in her Antoinette, and I do appreciate seeing that. Her Antoinette is IN LOVE with life and is enjoying living it up. Honestly, I do love seeing her on stage. But. BUT.  Masao, while a solid singer (If I’m just LISTENING to the Antoinettes, I’ll pick hers any day of the week) has never been described as the best actress. And, unfortunately, some of the issues that were present in her Takarazuka run (Never 5get her questionable moans in Takarazuka Maniaque) are still very present in her brief Toho run, with an accidentally side-splitting moan when Louis-Joseph dies being a highlight (?). Overall, her Antoinette comes off as less nuanced, a little bit more like an 8 year old stuffed into the body of a 30 year old, and so, as far as OVERALL portrayal, I have to hand it to Kaname Ouki. I will say that, on one last note, BECAUSE she’s such a high energy Antoinette, seeing her at the end in her execution gown, completely sober, is spine-chilling.

6. Hanafusa Mari. Now, you might wonder why I didn’t bother to specify which particular take on Antoinette I’m referring to, given that she’s played the role twice: Once in 1789 (which wasn’t filmed, so I have to judge off of what friends who DID see it have said, the album, and the little digest footage available), once in Marie Antoinette das Musical (which I DO own), and the reason for that is essentially the same as why she’s rated so lowly on the list: She plays the same role regardless of the musical. And that role has all the depth of plastic, going between saccharine sweetness worthy of Dolores Umbridge herself and self-pitying whingeing that kind of makes you want the revolutionaries to just get on with it, with comparatively little in-between. She has a solid voice, I would never deny her training, she’s certainly had the best training (and career) that money can buy, but there’s a certain grating quality to it. And, when she is put up against another star, she tends to try to outbelt them instead of letting her voice flow smoothly with theirs (Mario Tashiro’s Fersen in MA is a notable example, giving the two of them....a significantly lower degree of chemistry). I feel like the best Antoinettes will have the audience crying by the end WITHOUT demanding “PITY ME. MY LIFE IS SO SAD. PITY ME,” and in her case....she doesn’t ask, she forces. 

7. Marie Antoinette das Musical 1.0 (2006). Ah, the original, debut version of the musical. There’s a reason they changed it. Marie is presented as a petulant, vain child with a cruel streak (sloshing champagne in Margrid’s face), fake-crying whenever Louis tells her that they need to lower their spending. I HATED her. And I know that the overall idea is that she starts off as a bitch but then shows more as the musical goes on, but it was still a little too vicious for me to feel........anything by the end. Like, I’m fully #TeamOrléans in that version (okay, in general, but that’s BESIDE the point), because.......why should we have ANY sympathy for this woman? She’s terrible! 

My guilty admission is that I’ve never actually watched either the Rose of Versailles or Lupin III, which I know also are key musicals for her portrayal, especially RoV since, last I checked, it massively influenced the public perception of Antoinette in Japan and is really the key reason why the French Revolution is SUCH a thing in terms of pop culture. I did TRY once, but I kind of....fell asleep during the former. (In defense of RoV, I WAS very sleep deprived at the time and had just marathoned the Scarlet Pimpernel; I’m sure it’s lovely, though, if I recall correctly, it’s a little TOO much pastels and glitter for my taste.) 

[fresh-outta-jams]

Signed, Sealed, Delivered - Part 12

Namjoon x Reader Author: Admin Mo Summary: You’re in college when your soulmate tattoo shows up, an address. You figure it couldn’t hurt to send a letter, right? Note: I’m so excitedddddddd oof here we go, y’all. Warnings: Some swears, soulmate fluff. Word Count: 3.5k

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, Epilogue

Nervous didn’t even begin to cover the emotions coursing through Namjoon’s body. He was terrified, excited, elated to be getting on the plane, and as soon as he sat down, it all sank in. The next time he got out of this plane, he would be in your state, and then soon after, in a car on the way to your school, and then even sooner after that, he’d have you in his arms, smothering you with kisses and affection. God, it was almost enough to make him pass out.

It had been a while since he’d flown somewhere alone, Namjoon reminisced. He missed the chatter and laughter of his brothers, filling the plane. Instead, sitting in First Class alone, he had to turn to his phone and computer for entertainment. He’d told you a few hours ago that he’d broken his phone, another lie, and that he wouldn’t have it for the rest of the day until it got fixed, so the two of you wouldn’t be able to FaceTime. And, if the problem arose, he’d lie to you about his webcam being dysfunctional too. It was a fourteen-hour flight and you couldn’t have any idea he was on the way, if he wanted the surprise to pay off.

Lily and Grace had offered to keep an eye on you, making sure you stayed at the library, which was where he planned to meet up with them, and therefore, you, when the time came. God, thinking about it made his heart race.

After this flight, he’d be with you. After this flight...He’d. Be. With. You. It was going to drive him mad. Figuring his best bet to pass the time was sleeping, Namjoon lowered his seat and pulled his Koya sleeping mask down over his eyes, his headphones playing something soft and romantic. He had no idea how he would ever be able to sleep when something so exciting was waiting on the other end of that dreamy tunnel for him, but he figured he’d have to if he didn’t want the minutes to crawl by.

So, he let his breaths slow, and he let the music carry him off to a happy place filled with coffee shops and a girl with pink hair and a camera.

***

You were decidedly itchy. No, maybe itchy wasn’t quite the right word. You were antsy, more like it. It was seven. You’d just woken up from a very odd dream about an airplane, which you’d written off as anxiety about your upcoming first flight.

Today was Monday, the first day of exam week, which certainly contributed to your itchiness. And once you unlocked your phone to scroll through the night’s notifications, you got some more answers as to exactly why something felt off.

Unknown Number: Hey jagiya! It’s Namjoon! Your clumsy boyfriend dropped his phone, so I won’t be able to text or call you today. I’m sending this from Hobi’s phone. I just wanted to let you know that I love you so much and I’ll talk to you tomorrow! Have a good day studying for your exams. I know you’ll do well! Fighting!

It was sweet, very sweet. How thoughtful of him, to send you a message instead of leaving you to wonder if your amazing wonderful boyfriend was ignoring you. But that was what Namjoon was: thoughtful. And yet, something still felt off about it, yet you couldn’t put your finger on it.

So, you sat up, stretched, hung your sleeping mask on its designated Command hook, and started down your ladder to begin one very uneventful day of studying.

***

You were a strong believer in study breaks. Cramming without stop always made you more frustrated than anything else. So, every couple of hours, you took a thirty-minute break to talk to the other two friends who had come to cram with you. Well, at the moment, it was one. Lily was taking her Psychology exam, so that left you with Grace, who had her nose in her American History book, jotting notes down in her red, white, and blue notebook.

When she looked up, and caught your gaze, she set down her textbook and smiled, stretching. “Break time already?”

“Yeah, it’s like three.”

“Holy shit that went by fast.” She checked the time on her phone only to find that what you’d told her was accurate. And also, she’d received a DM from your soulmate, the one person you could not know she was messaging. She snatched up her phone as quickly as she could.

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, that sinking feeling you’d been harboring since this morning returning in full force. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” She blurted too quickly, clearing out her notifications, and with them, any remains of Namjoon’s message. “No, I just, uh, my professor emailed me a study guide and I really needed it.”

“Oh, that’s good…” You nodded, attempting to take a sip from your now-empty glass of tea. Luckily for you, you’d been saving up your meal dollars, so you had enough money for all the tea you could ever drink...and then some. And, in addition, you had to spend all of them before the school year ended, so you figured you may as well use them.

Standing up from the table, you grabbed your empty cup and tossed it in the trash, walking up the stairs to get another one from the tea place on the second floor. While you were gone, Grace unlocked her phone and opened Twitter. It was Namjoon, of course, messaging in the group chat he’d started with Grace and Lily.

RM_fan_94: Around five or six hours left on my flight. How are things going? Is she okay?

GracieGirl: She’s fine, Namjoon. She has consumed around six cups of tea since we’ve been here, tho. Your girl has a problem…

RM_fan_94: She sounds like me with coffee haha

RM_fan_94: Do either of you have tips for when I get there?

GracieGirl: I’m going to send you navigation from the entrance of the school to the library, but besides that, it should be fine. We’re sitting in this little area on the bottom floor.

GracieGirl: It’s her favorite spot, so there’s no way we’re moving.

GracieGirl: Plus, this place is full bc of exams, so we couldn’t really move if we tried.

GracieGirl: Once you get here, go through the door on the front of the building (facing the giant bird statue) and go down the stairs. It’s basically impossible to miss her. She has hot pink hair.

GracieGirl: Also, she’s wearing a BTS shirt.

RM_fan_94: Awwwwww that’s my girl.

Lilyyyy: Exam is FINISHED!! Operation Babysit (Y/N) Commences!

RM_fan_94: I hope you did well!

Lilyyyy: Omg where did she find you? You’re so perfect?? And sweet?? Did she make you in a lab??

RM_fan_94: Probably haha omg. But no, after many debates over the topic, I’ve concluded that she is the perfect one in this relationship. I’m just her hype man.

GracieGirl: Oooookay, Mr. Superstar, whatever you say.

Lilyyyy: Y’all are cute as fuck. I can’t wait for tonight!!!

Namjoon paused for a while before he typed out his next message, sighing to himself as he laid his head back against the seat again.

RM_fan_94: Me either…

***

You sat at the table, drilling film terms until your head started buzzing.You had watched your project so many times, you couldn’t stare at the editing program for another second, or you were sure you would go insane. So, instead, you were studying for your Film Analysis class, reteaching yourself about motifs and mise-en-scene and all of the other terms from the beginning of the semester that had been buried by all of the new things you’d learned thus far.

You still felt itchy. Maybe moreso now than when you had woken up, but itchy nonetheless. It was an odd feeling, like something was hanging over your head, something real and heavy and dropping fast. And yet, the more you thought about it, the less it made sense. Nothing was happening. You were fine. Everything was fine. It was just stress. Yes, of course, that’s what it was. Stress. Logical.

The only thing hanging over your head was your exams and the upcoming flight to Korea. That’s all it was, and it made perfect sense.

You sighed and checked the time on your phone. It was six, and you were hungry. You’d had a muffin for brunch and nothing since then. Time for a break, then. You got up and both Grace and Lily looked, wide-eyed.

“Where are you going?” Lily blurted when she saw you grab your keys.

“I’m hungry.”

“Oh. Gotcha. I’ll come with.” Lily offered, picking up her keys too. “If we take the tunnels, we don’t even have to go outside.”

“That is a good point.” You agreed, waving to Grace, the appointed guardian of your things for the time-being, seeing as she had grabbed food thirty minutes ago while you and Lily were busy working.

The two of you walked through the library and through the tunnels that connected the learning center to the building next to it, where there was a selection of fast food places. You got in line at the sandwich place and scrolled through Twitter, your thumb moving to send something funny to Namjoon until you remembered, stopping in place, that Namjoon’s phone was broken.

Your heart sank a little, but you saved the link so you could send it to him later.

“You okay?” Lily nudged your arm and you nodded. “Something wrong?”

“Namjoon broke his phone, so I can’t talk to him…” You sighed. “But I’m glad he told me. Is it weird I miss him? Also, I’m itchy.”

“You’re...itchy?” Lily giggled. “You might want to get a cream for that, sweetie, I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“I know, it’s weird.” You agreed, laughing with her. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just nerves from...everything, you know?”

“Yeah, I think I kind of get that.” Lily nodded. It was a good thing you were busy with your phone or you definitely would have noticed the knowing smile blooming across her features. If only you knew what was in store for you in two short hours…

***

When Namjoon got off the plane, he was shaking. Every part of him, trembling in anticipation. He fumbled with his suitcase, struggling to get it out of the luggage check without dropping it. His heart raced. He was here, like twenty minutes from your school, and as soon as his Uber texted him, he’d be on his way.

Namjoon reached into his pocket to check the time. It was around eight, so according to your friends, you’d still be in the library by now, but he figured he’d better send a heads-up just in case. His fingers were shaking almost too much to punch in the message, but somehow, he managed, pressing send after reading over it once or twice.

RM_fan_94: Just landed. Uber should be here soon. I’ll be there twenty minutes after that. Keep her busy.

His face was flushed, heart pounding, banging against his ribcage in hopes to escape and run down the street to find you. God, you were so close. You two had never been this close. There had almost always been an ocean between you, at least, since you’d started communicating. And now, all that was standing in his way was a car ride. Namjoon almost couldn’t stand it.

So, nervous as all hell, Namjoon started pacing in the lobby of the airport until he finally got the notification and went sprinting for the front doors and into the van of his Uber driver.

Every atom in his body was buzzing, buzzing, buzzing and burning as he got closer and closer to the gates of your college. He read the signs on the side of the road. Twenty miles turned to ten, which turned to five. Namjoon felt dizzy, suffocated by his rapidly-approaching destiny. He was sprinting towards it, now, a handful of miles standing between him and the love of his life.

In the passing streetlights, Namjoon could make out the lettering on his wrist. The tattoo that had started this all. He remembered his excitement the moment his fingers brushed against your first letter and the words tingled into existence on his skin. He remembered when all he had to go on was a name and the fact that you were from the States. He remembered the overwhelming joy that washed over him when you sent him the first picture of you, dressed up as Wonder Woman and smiling like you didn’t have a care in the world. He remembered your first phone call, the way his veins pulsed when he finally heard your voice.

All of it was coming to a peak, now. The precipice. This was the beginning of something very new, something uncharted for himself and the rest of the members in BTS.

Without warning, his Uber driver reached the traffic light to turn onto campus. It flicked from red to green, and he drove across the halted lanes of opposite traffic, under the giant arch that marked the beginning of your school. This was it. There was no going back now.

***

Something was wrong with Lily and Grace. They were acting weird. Both of them had gotten a notification from some mysterious group chat, and now neither of them could look you in the eye. It was odd, to say the very least.

“Everything okay?”

“Yep! Just peachy!” Grace lied through her teeth, beaming at you innocently. Something very, very strange was afoot, but you were too burned-out to attempt to get to the bottom of it.

So, seeing as your drink was empty once again, you stood up and began the trek to the tea store up the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Lily asked, almost shooting up out of her seat.

“I need more tea.” You shrugged, looking from Lily to Grace. “I’ll be back in like five minutes tops.”

“Okay.” Lily nodded, walking to the bathroom to cover up the fact that she’d shot up so fast to attempt to stop you.

Shaking your head at the strange behavior, you finished walking up the steps and stood in line at the tea store, ordering yet another iced drink. By this time, the barista didn’t even need to ask. It only took him a few minutes to get your drink to you and then you were on your way back down the stairs to the table. You were sitting down when your phone rang with a call...from Namjoon. Your eyebrows furrowed until you realized it was like ten in the morning in Korea, so his phone must have gotten fixed.

Brightening immediately, you picked up.

“Hey babe! Did you get your phone fixed?”

“I did…” His voice sounded weird. You could hear his tone and his breath shaking with each word. “Good thing, too…”

“Joon, is everything okay?”

“Great, baby, everything is great. Super, super great. I just...God…” And then he hung up, his connection cutting out, assumably. Your eyebrows furrowed, waiting for him to call back, like he usually did when your Skype calls cut out, but he didn’t.

“Something wrong?” Lily asked, almost unable to hide the grin on her face. Grace subtly held her phone, obviously recording. She had been since you got back with your tea. And yet, your head was buzzing too much for you to notice.

“I think his phone cut out.” You said softly, staring at the screen as you contemplated calling him back. You waited for a few more seconds before you noticed someone standing at the bottom of the steps. He was tall, his long frame dressed in an oversized black shirt and ripped jeans, tufts of pink hair sticking down out of his black baseball cap.

Maybe it was the pink hair that caused you to look back down at your work for a split second before your heart lurched and you did a double-take. You studied him, frozen and wide-eyed. You urged your legs to get up so you could get a closer look, but they weren’t listening.

You put your hands on the table, pushing yourself to a standing position as Lily and Grace giggled. Your legs wobbled with each slow step over to him. He was frozen, too, an amused grin on his face as he watched the wheels turn in your head, dimples on full display.

“N-Namjoon?” You whispered, tears fogging up your vision. You covered your mouth with your hands, taking a step forward and then a little step back, still unsure if this was actually happening or if it was some cruel hallucination, cooked up by twelve hours of staring at a book and taking notes.

“It’s just me, baby.” He reassured softly. “I’m right here.”

That was all the reassurance you needed. He set down his duffle bag and opened his arms, waiting for your legs to finally get the message from your brain. Eventually, they did, and you broke into a run, closing the distance between you until you were jumping into his arms, legs wrapped tight around his hips. One of his large hands came to rest under your thigh, and the other fastened around your back, rubbing comforting circles as your floodgates finally opened, a cascade of tears following.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He tried to hush your sobs, but he realized after a few seconds that he was crying too.

“How did you get here?” You croaked. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to come surprise my girl.” He chuckled softly, happy tears rolling down his cheeks. “I knew you’d need a little pick-me-up for exam week.”

“So you just came at the drop of a hat?”

“This has been planned for months, baby. It’s all worked out, I promise.” Namjoon was still holding you, your legs firmly gripping his waist, but he pulled away to look at you up close. You were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, even with trails of black mascara running down your cheeks. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

“I look like a mess.” You shook your head, chuckling at how much of a disaster you probably looked on today of all days. Of course on the one day that mattered, you looked like you’d just been hit by the bus.

“Baby, you’re the most beautiful person on the planet.” Namjoon pressed a long kiss to your forehead, closing his eyes before murmuring, “You look perfect, always. I love you, jagiya.”

“I love you too.” You took a moment there to look at him, to really look at this man who held the other half of your soul in his heart. You raised your hands to his cheeks and gave his dimples a pinch, earning a laugh from him. “You’re real…”

“Weird, isn’t it?” He raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t count how many times he’d heard that from ARMYs all over the world. Although, it was never as tender or careful as this statement.

“Mmhmm.” You hummed, studying his features up close, squishing his dimpled cheeks together. “Joonie?”

“What?”

Your eyes lingered on the pillows of his plush lips. They were calling to you. “I want to kiss you.”

“Then kiss me.” He replied, leaning in slowly to meet you in the middle. It was electric, sparks flying the moment your lips melted against his larger, warmer ones. You almost forgot you were in public until you heard cheers from all of the other brain-dead students flooding the library currently. Blushing, you reluctantly pulled away from Namjoon, finally unwrapping your legs from his hips and settling yourself back on the floor.

“Was it worth the wait?” You whispered, taking his hand and leading him back over to where your grinning friends had pulled up a fourth chair.

“I would wait a hundred years for you if I had to.”

“You’re cheesy.” You scrunched your nose and looked up at him. You knew all along that he would tower over you, but up close it was entirely different. Namjoon seemed to notice too, as he looked down on you gingerly. He leaned forward and pressed another lingering kiss to your forehead, pulling you against his chest.

“So are you.”

“That’s fair.” You giggled into the fabric of his shirt before finally sitting down with him. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you no matter how hard he tried. But eventually, he did turn to give his thanks to Lily and Grace.

“Thank you, ladies. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Grace smiled. Lily nodded in agreement.

You, however, looked between the three of them with wide eyes. “You knew???”

“Explains a lot, doesn’t it?” Lily chuckled, shrugging as she got back to her studying.

“Congratulations, you two.” Gace bidded before slipping her headphones back over her ears.

Namjoon took your hand in his own, scooching his chair closer to yours. He studied your little fingers with a smile before bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it. This, he imagined, was what the rest of your little forever looked like, and he wouldn’t have it any other way...

Tagged: @iie-wakarimasen , @ffantasylandd, @jooniefluff, @chimchimsauce, @mrs-saeyoung-choi, @theprinceoftheundead, @angyexoxo, @copenhagenspirit, @lovelylittlekittn, @lilgaga98, @iminlovewjjk, @feed-my-geek-soul, @loveandwitch, @recoveringflowerchild, @demonic-meatball, @maddieisaacs, @scissorsandtonfas, @carirosesg, @backtonormalthings, @local-mochi, @faliwi, @spoopyela, @nanie5, @ingenu--e, @undiscovered1personality, @andalos, @calspixie, @filtermono, @huhuehuey, @mikey-girl12, @lilliaflurr, @hypophrenium, @sitkafay, @spiicyari, @andeerwilson, @btswerewolfaus, @oyasumi7, @mycurrentusernameisalreadytaken, @gangstavixsta

[plumplips]

DAY 1 - The writing of a love letter

February the 6th of 2019

France, Paris

Hey you,

Here... It feels so cold in here without you. We miss you ; The warmth that brought your laugh is becoming a simple and old memory. Just thinking about you, your smile, your laugh, the sound of it... Just thinking about it I end up forgetting how to talk properly.

Where should I start ? From the beginning, or the ending of it all ? Your goodbyes or the soft kisses you would give me every morning ? Because, even those goodbyes will forever be printed into my mind. By writing this letter for you, I am looking forward to relive every picture of our past and for a moment... Forget that this bond between us has been broken. I want to talk about love, what makes my heart feel heavy ; I need to tell you a story about us. I will try to explain to you why I always will be head over heels in love with your whole being.

We met duiring fall season, in one of those parisian libraries that face the Tuileries garden.

Your eyes squinting, observing with full attention and high concentration a book cover... The cover of a book that you had in your hands. I only made one step into the shop and my eyes already found you ; I couldn't help but stare, for a long minute that's the only thing I did: stare. You know, I really do remember every single detail of your face, I could draw it to you if I knew how to.

Wearing all black, from head to toe, you put the book back on the shelf and your hands quickly in the pockets of your coat. One of your foot kept hitting the floor with a constant rythm, you seemed so nervous or lost. You licked your lips at least four times in only one minute.

Thinking about it now, it is funny how you didn't seem to belong in this kind of shop, with these books surrounding us. My eyes went to your face again, I wouldn't be able to tell you for how long I looked at you but I couldn't help it. I guess, I can't help but stare at those who I find beautiful, you got to find out how I loved caressing that skin of yours with my eyes only. Your aura has always attracted me and that day we met, the beauty of it surprised me. You would ask me "Why surprised ?" if you were infront of me right now, well... They call it love at first sight, you know that phenomenon I don't believe in. Maybe now that I am remeniscing all of our story, I should start to believe in it because... I can feel how my heart started pounding at a fast pace than skipped a beat when you glared at me from the corner of your eye. And what did I do when you looked at me ? Well, my legs brought me far away from you and your brown eyes.

Trying to focus on the reading of my book, your voice managed to follow my steps that quick. And the other funny thing was you thinking that I worked in that library ; apparently I dressed as if I planned on going to work and I didn't look like I was casualy wandering through the streets of Paris. You stared hard again, my eyes kept contact and neither of us talked for what felt like the longest minutes ever. Finally you let me see that smile, a small smile that came with the cutest dimple I had ever seen. If it could happen, my cheeks would have turned red and maybe that day they did I didn't notice it. And if my cheeks had reddened I would have hidden half of my face under my scarf.

How I would have loved to know what went through your mind in that moment, what caused that silence ? What images flashed before your eyes then brought that smile on your face ? I never asked you, I never got the chance to. It is easier now that I won't have to hear you, possibly, whisper dirty reasons against my neck.

That famous charm, your presence... All of it was so fascinating to me. You know how curious I am, you know how easily I get intrigued by anyone or anything that lays infront of my eyes. Your charm got to me to a point where I couldn't think straight. Did you even notice it ? That effect you had on me. Did you... Do you even care about that day in general ? About us ? Do you remember any of the details of our first encounter as much as I do ? By reading this letter, does your heart flutter like mine does while I am confessing myself to you ? Do not worry, I am not writing to you so I could stir up your pity. I am just writing so when I write my final words in this letter, I will feel free and all this thoghts that keep running through my mind will evaporate... I hope so, I hope that I will get on with my life as easy as you did. You are the only person I felt like I could talk to before, and still today I only feel at ease when I confide my thoughts to you ; That is because you are the only man that made me understand what love is, the real one, not what I have gotten to know in books. You woke an emotion totally unknown to my being until today. You taught me things, and I let you meet the Babylone people never had (and never will) get the chance to face. We got naked, faced eachother, discovered every ounce of what we hid behind those clothes and presently I am starting to ask myself if any of it was real. From you... Were you sincere ? Because I was, I loved you, and I still do to this day. I love you every month, every week, every day, every hour, every minute and every second that the gods grant me to live on this earth. I love you.

You flew away, you left and asked me to forget ; to never wait for your return because you said I would be able to manage without you being next to me. But I just couldn't help but fall even more in love with who you are, again. Your dilated pupils, parted lips, hands under my sweatshirt... your sweatshirt, colliding with my cold skin. The heat rising to my cheeks and managing to relax my fingers until I let go of the book in my hands.

I just nod my head when you talked to me. I tried to keep my composure facing you, but the only thing I wanted and needed to do was to cry. To cry hard and scream until I lost my voice, until no tear would have been found in my eye sockets. But I didn't cry, I nod my head without questionning any word that came out of your mouth ; I stayed calm and composed, what an actress I was, right ? My talent was undeniable. I wanted to scream and throw a tantrum in the middle of the train station but I didn't do anything. If you knew how much I would have loved for it to be easy... You know, forgetting about you, about us. To move on, to act like the whole year, our entire story was only a dream. A magnificent dream... But I can't do it. I couldn't do it and I still can't. To be completly honest with you, I don't think that I will ever be able to. Some days, when I don't think about you I dream about you. I dream about your lips on mine, your hot palms on my lower back ; caressing me, being so tender and loving, murmuring, your lips brushing against mine, sweet words that made me feel tingly all over. Because our love making was something spiritual, because the dreams feel like reality I end up wanting you in the middle of the afternoon. Because your perfum still envelops the sweatshirt you left me. Because, I need you to love me again. I need to feel your presence under these sheets. I need your childish laugh to resonate like an echo in my bedroom. I need your malicious eyes on me. Your long tirades about your favorite tv show... You telling me how cute I am when I daydream... Your purr of contentement when I run my fingers up and down your back... When you cook for me and try to copy my dance moves to make me laugh... When you just layed here... next to me... took a nap and let the music bring us to sleep. I fell in love with all of it, all of you. Here I am now that you are gone. Love brought me to this situation.

On this exact date, February the 6th, I am sitting in a corner of the library we met just so I could remember... rember everything once again. My back against the wall, a book under this paper, I am taking a moment to read some words written by Michael Faudet ; the words you highlited before leaving. And the answer I have for you is: I will love you untill my last breath.

Reality

Love and loss share the same unmade bed.

b. m.

Vous trouverez ci-dessous un lien pdf (google drive) vers la même histoire, dans une version bien plus structurée et avec une mise en page ;

une version française et une version anglaise.

Enjoy !