#paris sounds great this time of the year

[itsshawtyfellas]

I like them nerdy and submissive. That's it. That's the post.

[hwangism143]

off-limits

synopsis: hwang hyunjin was multiple things to you: incredible. god-like. everything. but most of all, he was off-limits. that is, until, you both are forced to share a room at a beach getaway. sounds perfectly romantic, right? except for your fear of the ocean and his recent break-up.

pairing: non-idol!hyunjin x fem!reader

genre: best friends brother trope, one room trope, angst, fluff

warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of death, nightmares, graphic description of nearly drowning, eating and food, slightly suggestive, near death experience

please do not read if any of these topics are triggering

word count: 15.4k words

playlist: box in the ocean - alessia cara, swimming pools - francis on my mind, mixtape: time out - stray kids

a/n: guys. my baby is here. this was requested by the wonderful @scarlet789 also, shout out to my bae avi (@stayinlimbo) for letting me scream in her dms. as usual, pls leave your comments and reblog!! they mean everything to me <3

"all these explosive emotions, i'm holding"

Hwang Hyunjin was multiple things to you. Beautiful, heavenly and ethereal were just a few words to describe him. Off-limits, however, was probably the best and most encompassing in this situation. He was your best friend Hyun-jee's brother, and a long time ago, you chose friendship over love.

Hyun-jee and her brother came from an extremely well off family. Hyun-jee's mother was a famous model while her father was the owner of one of the most popular media channels in South Korea. Unlike the stereotypical rich kid, however, Hyun-jee genuinely did want to inherit her father's business someday, eagerly waiting to take over as CEO after his retirement. For now though, she was content with just being the CFO of their overseas subsidiary.

Hyunjin however, was a bit of an enigma when it came to company legacy. Rebellious couldn't be the right word considering his parents never really minded about what he would become (they did have the extremely ambitious to the point of it being slightly terrifying younger daughter). Hyunjin was destined for greatness though. The entire Hwang family was. To your astonishment, even the family dog had his own fanpage.

Hyunjin had cemented himself in the art industry, having gone to a special arts high school and studied painting in Paris for a few years. His artwork sold in the millions, and their relevance was extremely pertinent to everyday life. A part of you marveled about how you even came to become friends with such extraordinary people when you were just the opposite of that, bland and normal.

You first met Hyun-jee in boarding school, you with a scholarship and starry eyes and Hyun-jee with her father's massive paycheck and worldly wisdom that rivaled that of the oldest ahjumma's. It was an international one, meaning that the medium of speaking was almost entirely English. You could have taken Korean as well, of course, but you opted for French instead. That was when you met Hyun-jee, the dorm arrangements being set according to the second language chosen.

Hyun-jee shone as bright as a star but she never made that cover your light. If anything, she amplified it to an incredible degree. Being friends with her wasn't slavery (as popularized by fiction), but instead it was earth-shaking, revolutionary and the most brilliant thing to happen.

Ah, fourteen year old minds.

But really, Hyun-jee was a friend you would always cherish, having been extremely close to her even after graduation. Every first day of school, you two would curl up in the couch of your common room and start telling each other all about your wild summers.

You knew, of course, about Hyun-jee's brother, but she rarely brought him up. He was a slightly sensitive topic in your friendship and you knew why. All you knew was that he liked painting and was a year older than Hyun-jee.

To be completely honest, not only were you Hyun-jee's best friend, you were also probably her first and only close friend. People had a tendency to get close with Hyun-jee just to take advantage of her family. Nine out of ten times, that was girls who wanted to date Hyunjin.

Hyun-jee loved you for being completely unaware about who she was until after you met her. Not being a South Korean native, you had no idea who the Hwang family was. The only member you did personally know was Hwang Hyun-jee, future CEO. Except to you, she was nearly a sister. She was the girl who snorted milk out of her nose while laughing, owned practically a shrine dedicated to Michael B. Jordan and had the most awful bed head. You saw a Hyun-jee that she only showed to two people in this world: you and Hyunjin.

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All that ambiguity was about Hyunjin was about to change however, that junior year of high school. It was the first day of school and you were waiting for Hyun-jee to be dropped off near the school gates. This time though, it wasn't her old driver but someone a lot younger pulling up to the school front.

Hyun-jee opened the door and practically flew into your arms, causing a giggle to arise from your mouths and the both of you slightly stumbling backwards. Behind her, you heard a throat clear.

"Your bags, miss?" came an overly exaggerated tone of what you assumed was a male.

"Oh, piss off Hyunjin," snapped Hyun-jee, straightening her school uniform and letting go of you. She quickly introduced you both to each other. Hyunjin offered his hand and, your brain must have been on autopilot because your hand smoothly grabbed his without a hitch.

Your mind, however, was a mess.

Hyunjin was absolutely gorgeous. You could tell why so many women (and some men) pined over him. His then blonde hair fell into his eyes and he had a literal, a literal twinkle in his eyes. You probably just imagined it, but when your hand grabbed his, you felt a shock coursing through (although in hindsight it was probably just static electricity). He was attractive, yes, but you wouldn't really call it a crush, per se. It was more of a 'hey. you're good looking.' type of situation, not a 'i have envisioned our entire future together pls marry me.' kind of situation.

That was, until, Hyun-jee invited you (well, more forced by her parents to invite you) to spend the summer before senior year at her family's ski resort.

Hyunjin made you feel like you were glowing, like you were the only person in the room. If Hyun-jee amplified your brightness, Hyunjin captured it, understanding you in a way nobody else did.

While Hyun-jee was off skiing and being athletic, you and Hyunjin spent hours locked in the library. Sometimes, you sat in silence. Other times, you talked about everything under the sun, from classical literature and Jane Austen to cat videos and singing to Taylor Swift.

Being a huge bookworm yourself, you adored the concerningly large labyrinth which they called a  library housed in their lodge. Hyunjin would paint on a chair with him and his easel facing you as you would lounge on the sofa, poring over yet another thick, hard bound novel. Then, you would pass that book to Hyunjin, who would also read it, giving you both a topic of conversation.

You were never bitter towards Hyun-jee for leaving you behind with Hyunjin while she took classes and taught classes at the local ice rink and snow hill. She always was better left outside than cooped up inside, unlike you and Hyunjin who were ambiverted to a fault and short-circuited if outdoors for too long.

In fact, you were thankful for it. If Hyun-jee hadn't been gone long enough for you and Hyunjin to have some time together, you never would have experienced falling in love with him. If that is what it was.

Your relationship never blossomed into something more than soft smiles and knowing glances, even the occasional (and never accidental, at least on your part) brush of fingers being constrained and a rare occurrence. Even though you weren't sure if Hyunjin had such feelings towards you, you both knew that there was a line you couldn't cross.

Still, your brain romanticized all of it. Being in love with you best friend's brother, secluded moments in a library... it really was turning into an 'i have found a wedding dress. get a ring. we are already mentally married.' cacophony of feelings. Paired with the snowy backdrop of the mountains and Hyunjin more often than not offering you his hoodie, you were, to put it mildly, in heaven.

"Hey, do you want to make hot chocolate or bake something? I'm not really getting inspiration to paint and..." Hyunjin just waved his arm around, trailing off and looking at you with hopeful eyes.

The lodge had a personal chef who could whip something up at just a sentence. He knew that. You knew that. You grinned at him, "Okay. Let's do it."

The two of you worked your way up to the private kitchen (the shock you felt and finding out they had two kitchens was so comical that Hyun-jee even recorded it). Baking with Hyunjin was terrifying. By the end of it, you had flour all over you, Hyunjin having icing on his cheek. The end result was delicious but very off-putting looking cupcakes.

While Hyunjin busied himself with cleaning, you swiped your thumb across the icing that had laid base on his face (conveniently missing the tissues practically staring at you).

Hyunjin turned his head to look at you in surprise, eyebrows scrunched and cheeks puffed. "I'm sorry," you stammered, "There was icing and-"

"No," he laughed, "It's not that. Your hands are really cold. I thought I was doing a good job of keeping you warm."

A small pout formed on his face as he motioned to take your hands. You obliged and he rubbed them for a bit, humming along to some pop song that was trending. As he was doing so, you nearly bore a hole into the floor with tour eyes, trying (and hopefully succeeding) in hiding the massive blush threatening to creep onto your face.

That night, Hyun-jee asked you nonchalantly, "Is something going on between you and my brother?"

While the question might have seemed like an innocent one, you knew the venom and pain behind it. Your thoughts were only confirmed by her usage of the terminology 'my brother', instead of just his name.

You were laying down on her bed, bile rising in your throat. Love or friendship? The thoughts in your head collided, crashing into each other like a tsunami. Hyun-jee had been there for you your entire time in Korea, caring for you like you were her own blood. Hyunjin had only known you for a few weeks but made you feel like the only girl in the world.

Your conflicting feelings towards both your situations gnawed and twisted at you like a thorn bush, scratchy weeds clawing at you and desperately awaiting respite. All it would take to get rid of that awful feeling would be one sentence of confirmation or otherwise.

Hyun-jee made eye contact with you through the mirror as she brushed her hair. "Well?" she prompted, slightly impatiently.

You rolled over onto your stomach, eyes locked onto hers. "Hm? Sorry I couldn't hear you. Nope, we're just friends, if you can even call it that." You shrugged at her and she shot you a grateful smile, eyes full of relief. Your stomach, on the other hand, was tangled up in knots that felt painfully similar to the knots that had wound their way into your heart.

Hyunjin didn't see you in the library again.

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The irony of your situation, looking back was, well... ironic. Of the three months that you spent with the Hwang family, half of it went in trying to spend as much time with Hyunjin as possible and the other half went in avoiding him at all costs.

You were never a hopeless romantic, not really. You knew what love practically looked like, and that it wasn't perfect. If it was, then the phrase wouldn't be something as harsh as falling in love, would it? However, one thing that you constantly chided yourself about was the importance of first love.

You placed first love on a pedestal higher than anything else. You were extremely meticulous about it though. You were frighteningly determined to experience the most perfect first love one ever could, tailored to your desires. Falling in love with Hyunjin, however, was not part of the plan.

Falling in love with Hyunjin was like breathing. It came so naturally, as if it was always there but couldn't be shaken off as soon as you noticed it. It felt inevitable, it felt like life was giving you another reason to live in the form of a soft-spoken artistic boy who had a penchant for dyeing his hair.

It was so extremely easy too. How could it not be? The way his eyes crinkled in the sides when he smiled and high pitched laugh were sensations that you would pay anything to relive. The way his eyes never left you when you passionately (and sometimes violently) gesticulated about your favorite books, the way he somehow understood what you were communicating his way even without you verbalizing it, made you realize that no one had ever quite made you feel this way.

'This way', being, feeling excited at just the mere thought at knowing that you were inhaling the same air as them. Small firecrackers igniting in your stomach at just the thought of seeing them. Feeling like you would simultaneously combust and drown if you couldn't be with them.

You often lied to yourself though. No, it wasn't love. Just a passing crush, was your mantra, repeated over and over again in your head until you almost believed it. Almost. A passing crush wouldn't entail not being able to concentrate on anything apart from Hyunjin when he was in front of you. A passing crush wouldn't cause you to look at him when he thought you weren't, in an attempt to memorize his features, capture every moment and seal it in an imaginary locket.

The reason why you made yourself think these thoughts were because you were unraveling. The realization that your first love did not love you back, not even a little bit (or so you thought) crashed down all your ideals about romance. The you that existed back then was positive that you would never, ever, love again. If the person you had first fallen in love with couldn't fall in love with you, then how could anyone else?

Of course, compared to your life now, such issues felt trivial. Right? Then why did you still have such a hard time forming romantic attachments? Why was your self-esteem when it came to be loved was in the gallows, rotting in the negatives?

It wasn't Hyunjin's fault, it never was in your head. It was the causation and effect of your own fucked up idolization of falling in love for the first time. You had so profoundly accepted the notion of first love being unforgettable that you only assumed it to be positive, not even thinking about how you would grapple with the situation if it were negative.

Maybe if you did, you would learn and grow from every failed romance that you would have, all up until you found 'the one', even if it was just for that moment. But you didn't. Instead, you had grown such a clawing and deafening fear of rejection that you refused to fall in love at all.

Somedays, the loneliness would get to you. The day Hyun-jee announced to you that she officially had a girlfriend, you were happy, immensely so, but a part of you just... broke. Going to parties and dinners and even just staying in with your friends meant that you had to witness all the small things about love that you would never experience.

Your friends and their significant others were never obvious around you. They weren't constantly touching each other and making comments about their undying love for each other. But even those tiny actions, the little aspects, didn't go unnoticed by you.

The small smile of affection on one's face at anything the other did, an entire conversation passing through just a glance, the featherweight touches that probably had a heavier meaning that you would ever know - all of this was just something you could vicariously experience through the people in love all around you.

Maybe, if you weren't such a coward, you would be in love right now too, instead of wallowing in despair and the trenches of missing out.

On the last day of your stay at the Hwang lodge, you went to the library to see Hyunjin one last time. For seeking some sort of closure? Probably. For seeing Hyunjin one last time and committing his features and mannerisms, anything and everything that made up him to memory? Definitely.

You had pushed the doors open softly, letting out a shaky breath and attempting to still your restless legs. Hyunjin was hard at work behind a large canvas, propped up on a wooden easel. His arm furiously brushed against the canvas, angry strokes slapping against the medium of artwork.

He didn't notice you, continuing his work, until you cleared your throat. "Hi," you said uncertainly. Hyunjin looked at you in perplexation, like a deer caught in headlights. Quickly turning around his easel and regaining his composure, he motioned for you to take a seat on the couch.

You took him in, the light streaming in from the large window bathing him in cold sunlight that glinted off the snow. He looked like he wasn't human. It hit you, the absurdity of it all. If there was one word you would use to describe Hwang Hyunjin, it would be human.

He captured humanity within him in the sweetest form possible. He wasn't the blueprint, not by any means; he could be petty, overly dramatic and had a bit of a temper. But he was kind-hearted, constantly curious and overwhelmingly empathetic. He was so perfectly imperfect that it was incredible to you how someone like him could be a product of society as cruel as this.

"I leave in a few weeks," he said almost ponderingly, breaking a silence that hung between the two of you that was, for the first time, uncomfortable.

"If you want, I can get you something," he enunciated. You knew there were several unsaid words on his end; there were some on yours as well. But you had almost no indication about what they could possibly be, and were itching to know what they were.

"We can't- we can't be friends," you blurted out.

Hyunjin's expression was one of expectation. So he knew this was coming. He sat down next to you and let out a resounding sigh.

"I know. I'll send you something from Paris anyways," he lightly responded, attempting to liven up the mood. You just raised a shoulder and the two of you sat there for what felt like hours. Finally, you got up and made your way to the door. But before that, you stopped.

"Do you mind if I see what you were painting?"

Hesitantly, Hyunjin turned the easel around. You were met with absolutely nothing, just splashes of water all over the canvas.

"Artist's block," he said matter-of-factly.

You nodded as if you understood, even though you didn't and walked out the door with a, "Thank you. I'm sorry."

Head hung in shame, you took a step outside. You were about to step out when a voice called out to you, "It was nice, to pretend. Even if it was just for a while."

You turned to give him a wry smile, "Thank you for making summer fun for me."

He would understand what you told him. You knew he would. But that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt. That was the last time you had ever physically seen Hwang Hyunjin, ever spoken to him.

He never sent you anything from Paris.

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While you wished that your relationship with Hyunjin would be one for the romcoms, your relationship with Hyun-jee was definitely one for the situational comedies. The rich girl becoming best friends with the new scholarship student? Cable TV viewer gold.

If you were being completely honest, the first time you met Hyun-jee you did find her a little bit stuck up. The two of you had to end up being friends though. Studying the same language, French, meant that she was your roommate for the four years you would spend at that high school (unbeknown to you then, she would spend another five years as your roommate in university).

Seeing Hyun-jee walk into the dorm room, decked in designer clothes and lugging a large suitcase behind her, was enough to demolish your self-confidence. The sight made you feel extremely self-conscious about your jeans, which were sporting gravy stains, and the mud brown sweater vest which your mother simply insisted you must buy.

All your fear disappeared, however, when one of Hyun-jee's heels (Dior!) caught on the edge of the living room carpet. She collapsed onto it, placing her palms face down to avoid hitting her face. She looked up at you.

"Hi, I'm Hyun-jee. I would shake your hand, but this is the unfortunate circumstance of letting my mother style me for the first day of school."

You laughed and offered her your hand and she held onto it, steadying to her feet. You gave her your name and a once-over to make sure she wasn't hurt. Then when you finally looked into her eyes, the two of you burst into laughter over the farcical situation that had just taken place. You both were wheezing by the end of your solid ten minute fit of laughter, laying on the couch in contorted positions and trying to catch your breath. Her eye caught yours, just setting of another bout of giggles.

You two had been inseparable ever since.

Hyun-jee wasn't as perfect as she was made out to be, and she had no shame in it. If she had the choice, she would go everywhere in her pajamas. She was horrible at Math and made fun of the World History teacher you both shared, convinced he was a Freemason. Hyun-jee was as human as one could get.

Even her parents were quite natural around you, or at least the cookies her mother sent everywhere which she and Hyun-jee baked made it seem that way. Hyun-jee was always sensitive when it came to the topic of her family. She skirted around it when it was a topic of conversation as if it was poison.

It wasn't that she had a bad relationship with them; she adored her family. She just seemed extremely uncomfortable about the topic, so you never really pried, instead regaling her with stories about your two younger sisters, parents and lineage of goldfish with abnormally high mortality rates.

There was moment in your life when you understood the gravity of just how alone people like Hyun-jee was in this world. You had noticed, that despite being extremely well-known and friendly with everyone, Hyun-jee could only call you her friend. On the other hand, you weren't at all as well known as Hyun-jee but had multiple friends.

That moment was at this end of the year party your academy was hosting to celebrate the end of exams. The upperclassmen were planning to go to another location, without teachers for an afterparty, but you had convinced Hyun-jee against attending it. She always had been the risk taker in your friendship.

You were walking around, checking off your social pleasantries. Light shone in the big auditorium and you swished around your floral flock. You caught Hyun-jee rejecting yet another poor guy (too bad he didn't know she was gay), and laughed a little to yourself. Even at fourteen, Hyun-jee had model-like looks. Probably because she inherited them.

You were lost in the moment of it all, entranced by the fact that you were even standing here. Coming to this prestigious international academy was your dream. It would kickstart your scientific career, which, back then, only revolved around discovering something incredible and winning a Nobel Peace Prize.

You came from an extremely mundane family. Middle class, living in a different country in a three bedroom apartment. Both of your parents worked in software engineering, and while you loved them for it, you couldn't help but find it slightly boring. You wanted to do something great, be someone great.

Hyun-jee must have walked over to you at some point in time when you hadn't noticed, because she laced her arms through the crook of your elbow and asked, "What's got you so concentrated, wife?"

Hyun-jee had a habit of jokingly calling you her wife, which you always entertained because why not? She had made it extremely clear that she would never date you, despite being romantically interested in women. "Eh, too nerdy," was her response when you asked why. She wasn't wrong though; if it wasn't for your 'nerdiness', you wouldn't be where you were.

You just shrugged in response to her question and turned to give her a smile. The expression you were met with gave you a bit of a surprise. For once in her life, Hwang Hyun-jee looked serious about something. Her normally mischievous eyes were now set in an unreadable expression.

"What is it?" you asked as the two of you headed to the buffet. Hyun-jee grabbed two plates, one for you and one for her, and proceeded to put a little bit of everything in her plate onto yours, despite you already having taken a lot.

She didn't give you a reply, instead opting to walk towards the table where you two had laid claim. You towed behind obediently, sitting down with a satisfied 'ah!' after having been standing for over an hour. You were digging into your food, relishing the taste of school food that was good for once (okay, that was a lie; your school actually gave you good food but that was only justified considering the insane costs).

"I was trying to figure out a way to say this but..." Hyun-jee's voice faltered.

Your glanced at her, finally looking up from your plate after eating like a starved, ravenous beast. Your eyes slightly widened. Did she not want to be friends with you anymore?

Hyun-jee took a visibly deep breath, "I just wanted to say thank you."

"Thank you for being my friend. I have never really had anyone to call my own. If anybody ever got close to me, it was just to take advantage of me or use me to gain access to my family. Especially when it comes to my brother that I mentioned, remember? Hyunjin. Guys aren't friends with me because they're intimidated by him and girls only become friends with me because they want to date him. All my life I have felt like nothing more than a porcelain doll, only valuable because I held the title of being a Hwang daughter. I was labelled before I was even born, I have had to wear that label, written all over myself with fake pride, even though it sickens me. That was until I met you though. As Disney cliché as it sounds, you not knowing anything about my family and treating me like a normal person has really made me feel seen this past couple of months. Thank you, Y/N, for being my friend. A real one."

Tears began streaming down your face and streaming down her face. Paired with the emotional word vomit that Hyun-jee had just placed before you and both of you being on your menstrual cycles, this was kind of bound to happen.

You reached over to give her hand a squeeze. You were unable to say anything, partly because you were choked up with emotion and mostly because you had stuffed an entire slice of chocolate cake into your mouth while Hyun-jee was in the middle of her monologue.

That was the day that you made sure to make Hyun-jee never feel used, and that started with keeping her family at a seven-foot man's arm's length.

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seven months before.

Needless to say, your friendship with Hyun-jee wasn't always perfect. One topic that often came up during arguments was stepping out of the house. Hyun-jee was naturally more extroverted whereas you preferred the comfort of your home.

You both came up with a plan to alternatively go out and stay in while you both were roommates in college and this practice continued well after Hyun-jee had graduated.

Hyun-jee had dragged you to this upper class, high profile party as her plus one. Her girlfriend was at her parents' home and Hyun-jee simply 'could not go alone or would combust'. Regret at deciding to attend university in Korea was palpable in you (but no where else would you get delicious kimchi).

Beads of sweat clung to your forehead as you surveyed your surroundings. The party was filled with almost-drunk socialites, foreshadowing business deals and gossiping with each other. You rarely attended such events with Hyun-jee; this was her circle, not yours. You always overthought every little interaction that you had with one of them, turning it over in your head millions of times.

Even at such an event taking place at a simple rooftop resto-bar, you spotted the occasional man wearing an entire three piece set and woman rocking an evening gown. You had confirmed with Hyun-jee about what the dress code was multiple times leading up to the event, not ready to lose face in front of such prestigious people. She kept reassuring you that it was 'casual'. Clearly, the upper class' definition of casual and yours were worlds apart.

You were wearing a black, tight crop top, white skirt and white jacket that was currently below your shoulders and in caught in the crook of your elbows. You had already fended off quite a few men approaching you with a look in their eyes which made you quite uncomfortable. Having excused yourself uncountable times using numerous excuses (you had to put use to the skills that you had picked up on as an ambivert), you decided to step out onto the open area to catch some fresh air.

You glanced at the cup in your hand, not knowing where it came from. It definitely looked alcohol though, and you sent a small glare towards the cup while you set it on the first surface that you could fine. You drank sometimes, but today you opted against it. You were going to be driving yourself home and knew that Hyun-jee was going to be wasted, having lost her a few minutes after entering the premises. 

You knew that Hyunjin was there too, and were uneasy at the prospect of seeing him again. After the ski lodge, you never really met him again. He had taken you phone number once while he dropped of you and Hyun-jee snowboarding while you were there at their lodge. You both rarely texted, never going beyond the cordial 'happy birthday's' and exchanging wishes during various holidays. He never questioned why you stopped coming to the library, just giving you an understanding nod when you linked arms with Hyun-jee and looked at him with guilt evident in you eyes.

Deciding to ditch whatever the hell this glorified adult frat party, you made your way to the front door when you caught sight of Hyunjin. He sat near the door, scrolling on his phone. He seemed as uninterested to be here as you were. His hair was black now, slightly wavy at the end. You knew that; of course you knew. You followed him on social media and witnessed his hair evolution, praying for his scalp while you did so.

"Hi Hyunjin," you said hesitantly. Hyunjin glanced at you, surprise evident in his face while his eyes scanned yours, "I was just about to head out. I thought I'd stop by and say hello."

"Oh, you're leaving?" he questioned in a tone of confusion laced with something else. Recognition, maybe. "Call me when you get home, so I know you're safe."

He must have noticed you expression of apprehension, because he quickly added, "So I can let Hyun-jee know when we drive home of course. I think she mentioned that we're driving to our parents house tonight."

You aren't shocked by his request, knowing how protective (and worried to death) he can be, but were taken aback at the fact that he did not want nothing to do with you. "I actually wasn't planning on going home," you told him.

At that, it was Hyunjin's turn to wear an expression of surprise. You drank in his features as you noticed the gears twisting in his head. He was thinking hard about something. Deciding that this was his way of dismissing you, you headed towards the door that led to the stairwell that would take you downstairs. Abruptly appearing beside you was Hyunjin, giving you a small tap on your shoulder.

He offered you a small smile. "Mind if I join you?"

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Hyunjin was probably at that party because of his presence in the art world. Something about his art always spoke to you, in ways the no other piece of media ever did. You always proudly reminisced about how Hyunjin showed you artwork that summer that he hadn't ever shown anyone else.

His artwork was capable of moving someone without words. You could nearly feel the emotion pouring out of him and onto his canvas. It was like his paintbrush was just an extension of himself. Everything, from the colours he used to the angle of his brushstrokes were calculated measures, all joining in the most radiant harmony of pure artwork.

After a small discussion of where to go, you both decided that it would be best to catch some fresh air and then proceed to go your separate ways. You both walked a little ways down to an old park.

You were still processing the entire situation, marveling at how on earth you managed to keep your cool the entire walk here. You both didn't say a word while on your way to the park, walking in silence. Hyunjin had his hands jammed into his pockets while you played with the strings of your jacket, curling them in and out.

That was when Hyunjin spotted a playset, smack dab in the middle of the aforementioned park.

"Come on," he squealed excitedly, "Let's go on the swing set."

You couldn't help but let out a burst of laughter. No 'hi' or 'how is life', but suggesting swing set antics instead? Gosh, he was so endearing. You both didn't really talk much, just exchanged giggles as you swung as high up as possible. Finally, after around ten minutes of swinging and one rendition of 'I Believe I Can Fly,' you both finally came down.

A part of you still loved him, didn't it?

It was dark, but you didn't really care. You were with Hyunjin and the area was known to be one of the safer, more-family centric parts of the city you lived in. You sat on the grass, knees brought up to your chest. Your arms wrapped around them while you closed your eyes, a small breeze whipping around you. It was strong enough to keep you cool yet gentle enough to not cause your hair to be similar in nature to that of a tornado.

Hyunjin observed you silently, leaning back on the grass with the help of his forearms. His legs were sprawled in front of him and he broke the silence with a casual, "How's life?"

You suppressed the urge to burst out into laughter. Imagine being asked by one of the hottest men you had ever seen, and had objectively been in love with for the longest, ask you 'how's life'. Adding to that, he was asking you the said question after suggesting that you both swing on a swing set.

"Fine, I guess. I'll be submitting my thesis, hopefully by the end of summer and then receive my doctorate," you replied, ignoring the rapid thumping in your chest.

You were not going to be held captive by a high school crush. You were so much better than that. You hadn't physically seen Hyunjin is over five years. He could have changed completely for all you knew. He could have had a girlfriend (which Hyun-jee would have told you about if that was the case, but you never know), maybe even a wife. And yet, that familiar feeling of wanting curled through your bones, engulfing you.

The two of you started talking about your lives, him as a painter and you as a final year PhD student.

"Hmm," he hummed in contemplation to something you had said, "You know, I always liked your company more then Hyun-jee's. Don't tell her though." He had mischievous look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips, eliciting a laugh from within you and bringing back a memory you had forgotten.

You were still slightly awed by the fact that the Hwang Hyun-jee invited you to spend summer with her. At a ski lodge. A fricking ski lodge! The shocking revelation that you could be considered cool enough to hang out with her and her brother were the thoughts in your head as you stared at the copy of Emma in your hands, pretending to read the text.

Beside you, you could hear the steady scratching of pencil against paper, interrupted only by the symphony of an eraser rubbing against the sheet. This little orchestra playing next to you was evidence of Hyunjin's existence, an art in itself if anyone asked you.

"You should teach me French," he asks you out of the blue, "For when if leave to go to Paris."

You look at him inquisitively. He told you that he got accepted into art school in Paris a few days ago. You did feel sad about the fact that he was going, but deep down you knew very well that practically, after this summer your interactions with Hyunjin would be few and far in between.

"You have Hyun-jee, she can teach you. If, that is, you can put up with her," you retort teasingly.

Hyunjin gives you a sly smirk, "That's exactly why I was asking you. I think I'll like your style of teaching better. And so, I want you to please, please, please teach me French."

You had no idea where this sudden newfound confidence to flirt with Hyunjin had bloomed within you but, oh well, you only live once. "Do you want me teaching you, or just me in general?"

"Ah," he said shaking his head regretfully with a smile, "Even though you have only known me for a few weeks, you already know me too well."

Butterflies ignite in your stomach, although you're pretty sure he was just playing along with you. You wonder what he's sketching, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes set in concentration. Even though you have a feeling it isn't, you sincerely hope it's you.

You don't know that your hopeful assumption was true.

A tightening in you chest starts to grow when the topic shifts to love. Earlier, talking to Hyunjin about love used to come as easy walking on your two feet. Now, it just hurts. He asked you if you were seeing someone. You promptly replied in the negative. You asked him if he was seeing someone. He reflected your answer back onto you.

But what did it really mean? You were always going to be bound in this life by that unspoken oath you made to Hyun-jee all those years ago. It wasn't even about love anymore, it was about not breaking another person's trust, a person who you held closer to your heart than most of your family.

You started thinking though. What was the point of hiding your feelings, old or not, from Hyunjin any longer? It wasn't like you could act on it, but you may as well have told him. Maybe then a huge weight from your chest would be released and you wouldn't be shackled by commitments, things you felt you owed to both of them.

"I don't think you know this but," your expression suddenly changed, "I used to have the biggest crush on you that summer."

"Used to?" At this point, Hyunjin is sitting up straight, eyeing you curiously. You roll your eyes and give him a playful slap on his arm. His expression, however, turns into one of regret. You begin to feel remorseful about telling him, paranoia settling in and molding itself into the fabric of who you were.

"That's a shame," he says quietly.

The air changes, charged with something you can't quite place. Hyunjin holds eye contact with you, unsaid words coursing through them. You never really believed in the phrase 'the eye is the window to the soul', but right now, you were terrified of whatever the hell your eyes were revealing to him right now. Hyunjin then proceeds to utter something, something so capable of infusing you with poisoned hope, that it takes your breath away.

"I think I would have loved loving you."

Time has stopped. Feelings of desperation, annihilation and most importantly, temptation, cascade in a whirlpool inside you. It had been years. This was wrong. This was the universe dangling temptation in front of you, urging you to just take a bite. Rebelliously, you wondered, what if you were selfish for one? Why were you feeling this way now?

"I think I would have loved being loved by you," you whisper back. Hyunjin's hand laces through yours and gives it a little squeeze in response.

That is when it dawns on you that Hyunjin is as confined in this matter as you, if not more. Hyun-jee is his sister for God's sake; whatever guilt you felt in wanting him, he must have felt tenfold in wanting you. You know exactly what the little squeeze he gave you signifies: It will pass. If it cannot be, it will cease.

And you know it's true because you and Hyunjin can never be 'us' or 'we' as long as you were present in this reality. You wished there was a universe somewhere, a parallel reality when Hyunjin and you were considered of one breath because to breath you would need him like oxygen.

Judging by his expression, he must have been drifting in thought about that too.

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Hyunjin was a hopeless romantic. Everyone he knew was painfully aware of that. He romanticized love in all it's aspects and yearned for it like a prerequisite for living. His standards were obnoxiously high though, and he had never met anyone even close to reaching them.

The thing was, Hyunjin didn't have high standards when it came to a romantic partner. He had high standards in what to expect during a relationship with said partner. Having never been in love himself, he could only witness it through other's experiences.

Until he had met you.

The first time he had seen you, you seemed unremarkable. Not in a rude way, of course, it was just that nothing about you really stood out to him that way. Hyunjin was a firm advocate of 'love at first sight' not being a logical concept. How on earth could you love someone without intertwining the fibers of being that made you with the strands of life that made them?

But then, when you walked into their hauntingly large ski lodge, your face full of wonder, Hyunjin felt an overwhelming calling of entrapping that moment forever. Your expression was so pure that is caught him off guard. He forgot what it was like to see some genuinely enjoy something. That night, he was sitting on his bed sketching something without any clear intention. The end result bore an uncanny resemblance to you.

Soon enough, the two of you began to spend exponentially increasing amounts of time together. Hyunjin was quite introverted, which was in stark contrast to the rest of his family. His mother used to also like spending her time in a lot, but nearly twenty five years of marriage to his father had definitely worn off on her.

The first time you stumbled into the library, you had audibly gasped. Hyunjin peered up, only his eyes visible, the rest of his face covered by the easel. When he saw that it was you, a small smile broke across his face and he sent you a wave, striking up a conversation with you and inviting you to sit down with him.

Hyunjin even knew exactly when realized that he had fallen in love with you. It was around a month into your three month stay with them. You were on the couch, laying down on your belly and Hyunjin was on a bean bag, munching on popcorn. You had a blanket covering you and a book in your hand, but your eyes stayed on Hyunjin as you both talked.

"I have a question," asked Hyunjin in between his mouthful of popcorn.

You rolled over into a position of sitting, legs crossed underneath you. "Before you ask, my interpretation of the meaning of life is pining for Michael B. Jordan against all odds. Blame Hyun-jee for forcing his movies down my throat and coming to me about her daily rants about how he is the only exception to her sexuality and how she would elope with him in a heartbeat."

Hyunjin shook his head with a laugh and passed you the bowl of popcorn. Having been on the receiving end of the conversation one too many times himself, he could quote Michael B. Jordan's monologue from Black Panther nearly perfectly.

"What I actually wanted to ask was whether or not you're happy with what you plan on studying in the future," Hyunjin asked curiously. You always avoided the topic of this, reiterating your love for Science time and again but always talking about how you planned on taking an English course on the side while in university.

At his question, your face fell a little bit. "Oh, well," you said sadly, "Truthfully, not really. But it's what my parents want me to do. I figured that if I did what they wanted me to do, then my sisters could be given a little more freedom at what they wanted to do."

Hyunjin's lips slightly parted, turning over your words in his head. Your selflessness really hit home, especially when he was so extremely selfish. He suddenly felt like he didn't belong to even be in your presence, and yet cherished it nonetheless.

"I have always been so adamant about becoming an artist that I never thought that it could lead to Hyun-jee potentially thinking that she doesn't have an option other than taking over the company," fell Hyunjin's confession from his lips. His eyes swirled with shame.

"If I'm being honest, she might have felt that way initially, but she truly loves the business Hyunjin," you told him comfortingly.

"You're a good person," he whispered to you softly.

"I'm not," you laughed condescendingly, "I'm really not."

Hyunjin's heart broke when those words flew out of your mouth. He wished he saw yourself at the standard that he did. But his heart pieced back together when he realized that he loved you. The realization dawned upon him when it hit him that your laugh, in no matter which context, seemed to lull him like a siren's call and draw him towards.

Later that day, Hyunjin called up seven of his closest friends to lament about his unfortunate predicament. He had all the textbook symptoms: gazing at you when you didn't notice, making up excuses just to be close to you and turning a fire hydrant reminiscent shade or red whenever he was near you (to the point where you would often end enquiring about his health).

"You are down bad in love," declared Changbin over the phone. Hyunjin decided against telling him that he had self-diagnosed himself before seeking anyone else's consul.

Hyunjin wasn't blind either though. He knew you felt something towards and although he couldn't quite pinpoint whether is bordered on love or like, he was quite content with simply knowing. It was extremely evident to him, in the way you began stuttering when he started flirting with you and the blush that would creep up your neck (albeit less pathetically obvious as his) when his fingers would accidentally or otherwise brush against yours.

He knew though, that blushes and wandering eyes was all your relationship ever could be.

He loved you, but by extension he loved his sister more. The night she came home to him, eyes puffy from crying and making him swear that he would never date one of her friends in the occasion that she ever did make a real one.

In that moment, Hyunjin made an oath encased in salty tears and bruised emotions that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

When you stopped coming to the library to squander away your time with Hyunjin, he knew he should have expected it. If you hadn't initiated the distance, then he would have been the one to do so, knowing it to be imperative when Hyun-jee questioned him on the nature of the both of yours's relationship.

He couldn't create anything, however. It was like your presence was what gave him the patience and creativity to actually go through with fishing a piece of art. He was frightened to death at the prospect of never being able to make something again if you weren't there.

Slowly, he realized that that wasn't actually the case. He could still paint, still draw, because he found love and emotions in so many other places.

Hyunjin found love in the way dewdrops beaded flowers, he found love in the cobblestoned alleyways of Paris and in the steaming mug of Americano he would drink every morning. He came to understand that he could pull inspiration from any love, romantic or otherwise.

But all of them paled in comparison to the love he held for you.

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five months before.

You were lounging in Hyun-jee and her girlfriend, Reina's apartment, which was practically your second home. The three of you went to the same university, one of the most prestigious in Seoul, and were quite a formidable trio. Hyun-jee was studying in business school, you were studying bio-chemistry and Reina was a lawyer in the making.

People had a tendency to stay away from the three of you.

You were sitting cross-legged on the floor of their apartment, back resting against the leather couch. Reina was in the shower and Hyun-jee scrolled on her phone. You gazed at the blank wall, completely zoning out from reality.

"Oh," Hyun-jee said with a small smirk, "Hyunjin is coming over."

You tried to hide your surprise and anticipation. Excitement brewed a sickly solution within you as Hyun-jee caught your eye and sent a wink your way, signaling that she would be teasing her brother mercilessly upon his arrival.

Her grin faltered, however, when she her eyes went to her screen which lit up with yet another text message, presumably from Hyunjin.

"Oh. He's bringing a girl."

At that, you jerked your head up to Hyun-jee's, leaving your task of picking at your nails behind. She just gave you a shrug, indicating that she had no idea about any of this either. You studied Hyun-jee's reaction to this carefully. If anything she seemed unfazed.

Jealousy and anger pooled within you. You wished that it was you who Hyunjin was bringing, which was absolutely absurd because you were already in Hyun-jee's apartment. The girl he was bringing would probably be beautiful. At least, far more than you.

In the events that followed leading up to Hyunjin's arrival, you were halfway here and halfway not. Reina had come out of the shower, Hyun-jee had ordered some food, Reina had put on a movie, Hyun-jee had given her a kiss; everything happened around you presently, but you yourself weren't present.

Oh. He's bringing a girl.

You resorted to biting your lip anxiously, drawing blood even. Ah well. Small problems compared to the things people have to face all over the world on the daily. But it should have been duly noted that your small problems felt gigantic to you.

Sighing and attempting to kill time, you decided to be extremely unproductive and watch a romcom. They really did help make up for the lack of romance in your life (as if). Eventually, however, you got bored and instead switched your screen to watch a zombie movie.

You were sitting on one of the three barstools that lined the marble island countertop. Your hands were propped up on your elbows and you had managed to precariously balance your phone against a jar of strawberry jam.

You heard the doorbell ring amidst the screams coming from your earphones. Quickly stuffing away your phone in your pocket in the name of courtesy, you cupped your chin with your hand.

Reina went to open the door and in waltzed Hyunjin in all his glory followed by, yep, only the most drop dead gorgeous woman you had ever seen.

He quickly made introductions, introducing her as Ellie. You avoided Hyunjin's eyes like the plague as you offered her a smile that you hoped looked genuine because it most certainly was not.

Ellie was extremely sweet. She even brought cookies. Ellie laughed and smiled and made herself feel comfortable. You laughed and smiled and contemplated what life would be like in jail if you committed murder.

You couldn't help it. Jealousy came to you in waves inhibiting your sense of everything and clouding your judgement. You hoped the scowl on your face wasn't obvious as you offered to go bring plates for the pizza in an attempt to excuse yourself from the conversation taking place.

"Oppa," nudged Hyun-jee, "Go help her."

Hyunjin stood up and approached you the way one approached a hungry tiger. His smile was warm and inviting but his eyes reflected well deserved caution. He attempted at making conversation with you but you only answered with nods and hums.

Eventually, he just gave up and sat on a bar stool sprinkling seasoning over the freshly delivered pizza. "I'm surprised you got your girlfriend here," you broke the silence, the snark in your voice painfully audible.

"Why?" Hyunjin's eyes trailed up from his tedious task and surveyed you carefully.

"Well, after our conversation that night..."

Irritation flashed in Hyunjin's eyes. "Not all of us can pine over someone we know we can never be with," he huffed.

You blinked for a second, something suspiciously wet prickling the depths of your eyes. What? To him, this might have been just a casual passing comment. To you, this was venom, seeping into your heart and poisoning it.

"Maybe if I didn't have unreasonably high standards of love, I would be better at holding onto it," you rebutted harshly without even thinking about the consequences of what you had said.

Hyunjin's face wore the undeniable expression of shock. In the heat of the moment, you felt almost angry at him. How could he say something so cruel and not expect you to give a befitting reply in return?

Then, the effect of your entire conversation weighed upon you. Gasping at your insolence, you turned around and felt a drop of water slide down the side of your cheek. You wondered if Hyunjin's eyes became a catchment area for tears the way yours did, pushing violently to be let out in a torrent.

Afterwards, you barely spoke to anyone. Quickly eating a slice of the unfortunately delicious pizza, you cited sickness as a reason to not be a present of the lovely and suicidal thought inducing situation you were stuck in.

Making a mental note to ask Hyun-jee where she ordered the pizza from, you headed home, thinking and over thinking your conversation with Hyunjin. The entire scene replayed in your head multiple times but one thought was annoyingly persistent: You went from loving Hyunjin, to somewhat professing said love for him, to giving him very, very good reason to despise you.

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the day of.

Hyun-jee was finally turning a year older and after spending her last six birthdays in the comfort of only you and Reina, this year she was planning a lavish one week beach getaway. All her closest friends were coming which honestly wasn't a lot: just you, Hyunjin, Reina and one of Hyun-jee's cousin's and her boyfriend.

You hoped that tensions would be alleviated between you and Hyunjin considering that you both hadn't communicated a word to each other since the mini argument you both had five months ago. Surprisingly enough, Hyunjin broke up with his girlfriend a few weeks ago, after only a short two months of dating.

You gulped in fear at the thought of you and Hyunjin being the only single people on the trip. Mustering up courage nonetheless, you sat in the taxi that was taking you on the way to the resort lobby where you would meet the others.

Sitting in the car, you decided to try and get some more writing for dissertation done. You already had all your research and citations compiled; all you had to do was type it all up and submit it. Hell, you even had your thoughts in order, but every time you opened up that blank document and watched the cursor blinking at you, all your motivation vanished into thin air.

Not wanting to put yourself through any more torture, you decided to open up your phone and scroll aimlessly through social media. The thought of a beach getaway excited you. After working to death's end for the last few months, you knew you had earned a well deserved break.

When the taxi pulled up to the resort, you got out and closed your eyes at the salty breeze that hit your face. You didn't care that the wind blowing around did not, in fact, make your hair look like it was in a shampoo commercial and instead made it look like the individual strands were having a seizure. The cool air was a welcome contrast to the stuffy interior of the airplane and subsequent taxi you had taken to get here.

You walked into the large reception lobby, trying not to gasp at the sight in front of you. Large potted plants lined the walkway with a humongous fountain of an angel in the middle. Golf carts whizzed around you and servers carrying bottles of champagne and rose offered you kind smiles.

Noticing that Hyun-jee and the other's had just arrived then, you raced up to her, lugging your suitcase behind you. Hyun-jee face lit up as soon as she saw you. Throwing her hands around your neck and pulling you in for a hug, the two of you giggled after she stumbled on a stray pebble. Giving everyone else a warm grins and nods, your eyes met Hyunjin and he offered you a tight smile in acknowledgement.

This was going to be a long week.

Hyun-jee walked up to the receptionist to ask for all of yours's rooms. While she was busy with that, you took out your phone and clicked pictures of everything. You never really posted pictures like these (or any in general), rarely ever active on sites like Instagram unless the occasion called for obsessive internet stalking (which you were questionably amazing at). Instead, you sent all these pictures to your sisters, mostly to make them feel jealous because that was a very older sibling-like thing to do.

Snorting at your youngest sister's almost instantaneous response, which was a string of emojis containing mostly eye-roll emojis, you didn't notice Hyun-jee walk back to the group. You noticed the worried expression on her face, taking in her knitted eyebrows. She had been spending a lot of time sorting out the reservation with the receptionist.

"Guys, I'm really sorry but turns out I forgot to reserve the rooms and I'm so sorry and-"

"Breathe, Hyun-jee," Hyunjin cut her off and placed his hand on her right shoulder.

Hyun-jee took a deep breath, the guilt simmering in her eyes. She sneaked a quick glance at you for reassurance and you notedly obliged, shooting her a thumbs up.

Hyun-jee was nothing short of a perfectionist. Lately, she had been spending literal days at her office, wrapping up an important business deal. Always having everything planned, always knowing the exact details of everything was something she prided herself on.

"So- so here's the thing. I have booked three rooms right now which are on the same floor. Two of them have one bedroom and the third-" Hyun-jee slowly glanced at you and Hyunjin, "And the third is one room but with two beds."

Oh, so then you would still be able to stay here. Perfect. Oh. You would have to share a room with Hyunjin.

Hyun-jee looked at the both of you nervously, gauging your reactions. You hadn't told her about your petty little conversation with Hyunjin and assumed that he hadn't either. His eyes widened with shock and met yours, but a wave of understanding passed through the both of you: you would tolerate it because it was Hyun-jee's birthday and she was the priority here.

"Is that okay?" Hyun-jee stuttered softly.

Reina had walked over to Hyun-jee and wrapped her arms around her waist. Hyun-jee's cousin, Byeol, assured her that the arrangement was just fine.

Not wanting to worry Hyun-jee further, Hyunjin hastily replied, "Yes, yes, of course."

You spared him a glance before your eyes went to Hyun-jee's once again, and with a smile you hoped did not look stressed, you added on, "Yep. I mean, it's just a week, isn't it?"

Hyun-jee let out a sigh of relief and reached out to give your hand a squeeze. Absentmindedly, you gave her a distracted smile. Your mind was on other things, Hwang Hyunjin and the prospect of sharing a room with him at the forefront of your long train of thought.

It would be fine, right? After all, there were two beds. And as absurd as the entire situation was, you had read enough romcoms and watched enough Hallmark movies to know that the real problems only began when there was just one bed. Which there wasn't. Unfortunately.

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Hyunjin had graciously offered you to take a shower first. Stripping bare, you felt the lukewarm water hit your skin as you went through the itinerary of the day ahead in your brain again.

1: Lunch at a cute rooftop restaurant that Hyun-jee had (for real this time), reserved.

2: Coming back to the resort get changed into your bathing suits.

3: Fulfilling the 'beach' part of the beach getaway.

4: Sleep, maybe.

5: Bonfire dinner!

You came out of the shower wearing tank tops and jeans shorts, a wet towel in your hand. Hyunjin strewn was on his bed (closer to the door), texting someone, or in his case, multiple someones. You assumed it was a group chat because the screen lit up with a notification numerous times.

The sight of Hyunjin biting his lip to stop himself from bursting out in laughter while wearing nothing but (at least you assumed it was nothing) a bathrobe did things to you that most definitely should not have been done.

For the sake of your sanity, you cleared you throat as a sign of banishing Hyunjin to the shower. He gave you a nod, grabbed his towel, and walked away. You let out a sigh and after hanging your towel on the balcony railing, dramatically fell onto your bed.

Hyunjin hadn't really told you much after you both entered the room. He only offered to let you shower first. You were brushing your hair and humming in partial contentment. You had resulted against washing your hair, knowing you would wash it again after coming back from the beach.

You're Taylor Swift album marathon was rudely, in you humble opinion, interrupted by the sound of a door opening. You were met, however, with an ethereal looking Hwang Hyunjin, fresh out of a shower. Beads of water hung to his neck and the tips of his hair. You were overcoming by an extremely concerning urge to lick them off.

Although Hyunjin was currently very aggressively wiping his hair with his towel, he had a smirk on his face, an obvious indication of him noticing you checking out. You looked away with a cough and a blush. Hyunjin fell onto his bed with an oomf and laid on his back while playing games on his phone.

You decided to break the ice wall erected between the two of you by blurting out, "I'm sorry for what I said that night. You didn't deserve to here any of that."

Hyunjin looked up from his phone in surprise. He studied you for a moment. Hyunjin finally broke the agonizing silence. "Likewise. I genuinely apologize for anything I may have said that night," he hesitated, "Does this mean that we can go back to normal?"

You gave him a small smile and a nod, although you knew just as well as him that there was no 'we' to go back to normal too.

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All throughout lunch, you failed at acknowledging the close proximity between you and Hyunjin. He sat next to you because, who was he to sit with somebody else's significant other? His thigh was pressed against yours and his fingers brushed yours over and over again.

"So, um, I heard about your breakup. How have you been holding up?" you asked. You wanted a gauge on how depressing your de facto roommate would act over the week.

"Oh," he responded nonchalantly, "I never really saw it as a relationship. We just weren't compatible at all."

Your brain processed his words as your eyes trailed the plate of seafood kebabs being brought to your table. You were in the process of eating one when Hyunjin added, "I think I might actually like someone else, and I'm not one for emotional cheating."

It's safe to say that the hot sauce you dipped the kebab in went down the wrong pipe.

After that tantalizingly long endeavor you had just undertaken, you were back in the comfort of your hotel room. You and Hyunjin decided that you would change in the bathroom while he would change in the actual room itself.

You had absolutely no intention of actually getting into the ocean water. It was getting late (yes, you considered three in the afternoon late) and you were not a big fan of swimming, despite having learnt it when you were younger. Your outfit was extremely simple, consisting of a sage green crop top, white long flowy skirt, a pair of sandals and finally a cute tote bag to store your camera, books and other essentials.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you did a little twirl to check if the skirt was spin worthy. Hyunjin watched you with a smile and give you a small clap after you were done. You blushed profusely, his existence somehow (?!) completely slipping from your mind.

"You look beautiful," said Hyunjin kindly with a wide smile.

"So do you," you replied breathlessly.

Hyunjin looked effortlessly attractive in a white button up that was half untucked and loose black pants. The first button was undone and you could see a shark bone necklace perfect encapsulated in the dip of his collarbone.

You were imagining how it would feel to run your fingers along it when Hyunjin asked, "Don't plan on swimming? I know I don't."

"Nope," you replied sheepishly as you both walked out the hotel door, "I actually have a fear of the ocean, as embarrassing as it sounds."

"It isn't embarrassing. I get nightmares about carrots," Hyunjin confessed with a shudder. You snickered at his words.

Hyunjin's hand lightly held your arm and guided you towards the right direction. The feel of his skin on yours completely wiped away your initial mortification at walking in the completely opposite direction.

He dropped your arm as spontaneously as he held it and you both stood awkwardly in the lobby, waiting for Hyun-jee and Reina. Byeol wasn't feeling well (she could come up with a better excuse) so her and her boyfriend went ahead with the decision of staying in.

The four of you walked out the resort in animated chatter. Being more of a listener yourself, you took a backseat as Hyunjin and Hyun-jee wildly gesticulated about work, life and (for some reason) the benefits of chocolate milk. Reina passed you a knowing smile; the two siblings once brought together could not shut up for the life of them.

You noticed Hyun-jee hanging back. She waited for you to catch up to her and said, "I'm sorry about the arrangement. It can't be easy for you."

You looked at her questioningly, "Why wouldn't it be easy?"

"Well, you both don't really know each other that well. To top it all off, Hyune oppa stopped seeing that Ellie girl. He hasn't been moping around much, probably because it only lasted like a month."

Hyun-jee paused and continued in a whisper, "I think she was more into him than he was into her."

You just laugh with a shake of your head and run up to Reina, throwing an arm around her shoulder. Through the corner of your eye, you see Hyunjin observing the three of you with a sad smile. You instantly feel guilt at leaving him out, even though the three of you were close friends long before Hyunjin came into the picture.

When you finally reach the beach, everyone settles into their designated role. Reina and Hyun-jee play volleyball with a bunch of locals while you and Hyunjin retreated under a covered cabana. Hyunjin sat on one side of it, sketching on his sketch pad, while you laid down on the other side, indulging in a mystery thriller.

Old habits really do die hard.

You turned to look at Hyunjin. The expression of concentration on his face was still the same. His hair was longer now though, and locks of it fell into his eyes. You felt the urge to push it away and subconsciously, ended up doing so.

He looked up at you. "Oh, um, your hair, I-" you stammered incoherently.

Hyunjin let out a chuckle. "It's fine. Thank you."

He turned back to his unfinished sketch and you put your book back in your tote bag. Wanting to stretch your legs, you noticed a dock like structure stretching out over the vast expanse of sea. Hyun-jee beckoned you towards her and the two of you set off to take pictures near that dock.

It felt slippery, at first, but eventually, you and Hyun-jee caught your balance. The farther out you went, the deeper was the ocean. The colors all blended to create beautiful hues of blue. They eerily mimicked the same hues that you currently were living in.

Hyun-jee's arms were full of shells, multicolored and all shaped differently. You both were so engrossed in picking at them that you didn't notice that you almost reached the end of the dock. Your sandal got caught on one of the stray nails.

And then you slipped.

And then you fell.

━━━━━━━✦✗✦━━━━━━━━

Funnily enough, the only thought in your mind while you were falling was how the whistling of the wind sounded like that of a tea kettle. You had only heard the sound of a tea kettle once before, at your grandmother's house. Your mom decided to take out the old blue kettle that laid forgotten under the stove and decided to whip up some chamomile tea with it.

What an odd thing to reminisce about.

After what felt like hours, your body hit the water. The screams you were initially hearing were now muffled. Water attacked you, dragging you downwards. You did learn how to swim, but your body felt like it was made up of bricks and lead, not skin and bones.

Instinctively, you closed your eyes and tried to throw your hands up. In an attempt to get an intake of breath, you opened your mouth. What a stupid mistake. Seawater and other substances flooded into your mouth. Bile rose up but you couldn't close your mouth. When you finally could, you were compelled to close it.

You felt your brain separate from your body, as if you were just watching what was happening and weren't present in the situation. All sense of time was gone. You had never felt more helpless and locked out of your body before. Tears streamed down your face, but it didn't matter because all of you was drenched anyways.

You felt your consciousness slip, and felt a peculiar serenity that you had never felt before. You were floating out of your body now, your mind keenly observing the vessel that was once you, flailing about like a fish out of water.

How ironic.

People said that drowning was the worst way to die.

Wait, what? What were you even thinking?

You were dying.

You were dying.

No. No, you couldn't die. There was so much left for you to see, to experience. You wanted a stable job, a family. You wanted to taste what a snickerdoodle cookie was like and wanted to see Olivia Rodrigo in concert. But most of all, you wanted to live.

Life was so beautiful. All the dips and highs and small straight lines made it an endless rollercoaster, yes, but it was a ride you were not ready to get off yet. If you lived after this, you told yourself, you would be selfish and do what you wanted.

You wanted to submit your thesis and and stand on that podium, certificate in hand. You wanted to go on a date with Hyunjin and did not care about whoever objected otherwise. You wanted to be Hyun-jee's bridesmaid when she and Reina got married in San Diego. You wanted to tell your parents you loved them and wanted to watch your sisters grow up.

You wanted, and wanted, and wanted and that was enough to keep you some kind of awake and alert.

You felt a pair of arms around your waist and another hoisting you up. Concerned chatter and sighs of relief were sounds that managed to seep through the thrumming in your ears. Opening your eyes and letting it adjust to the light, you collapsed onto the dock. You threw up whatever was inside of you, feeling someone patting your back.

Somebody helped you stand up, since you were still shaken up by the whole incident. You could see a small crowd on the actual beach and a drenched Reina in front of you. Hyunjin must have been the one holding you up then.

Hyun-jee face was frozen in shock, eyes still glued to the place where you had fallen. When she finally looked up at you, she let out a choked sob, and eventually a torrent of tears fell from her eyes. Watching her cry made you cry, as you were gently tugged back to the beach by Hyunjin.

He sat you down on the edge of the cabana you both had occupied earlier. A lifeguard was rushing over to you, checking vitals and making sure you weren't having any problems with your breath. After you felt like you were in a sober state capable to answer questions, you rattled off responses in a monotonous tone.

"Considering she was in the water for just under a minute," confirmed the lifeguard, "She should be fine."

Worry was still etched on everyone's faces though, frustrating you. You were not okay, and you knew that. Not being okay after such an incident was to be expected of you. But you were not okay in a way that couldn't be helped by them. You had no such severe physical injuries or major repercussions; but mentally?

You weren't quite sure your mind was even yours.

You assured everyone that you were okay over and over again. Hyunjin grabbed a blanket from a kind family also on vacation, offering you some water and hydrated salts as well. After thanking them profusely, you stumbled into the taxi that Hyun-jee had booked. While Hyun-jee and Reina stayed behind to file formalities with the local authorities, Hyunjin volunteered to take you back to the hotel room.

The entire sequences of events left you so dazed, that you couldn't even process what was happening. Sitting in the taxi and reflecting on what happened finally allowed the physical effects of almost drowning to settle deep into your bones.

It started with the shivering, your body uncontrollably shaking. You could feel someone's arms - Hyunjin's - wrap around you and start rubbing your sides. Then came to coughing, your throat parched and desperate for water. Through it all though, your mind stayed fixed at one point.

There was a light. And peace. So much peace it felt nearly unnatural.

You began sobbing. Your head was throbbing and the entire world felt dizzy. Hot tears streamed down your face. You could feel some rubbing circles on your back, hear someone comforting you. But you weren't present in the situation itself. Words blended into white noise and everything hurt.

The entire time, from Hyunjin helping you out of the car to Hyun-jee clearing the way to your hotel room, your brain was on autopilot. It wasn't that you were thinking about something else; you just couldn't think. You wanted silence and quiet.

As soon as Hyunjin closed the door, you slumped against it, dragging Hyunjin down with you. You entire body was still covered in water, but you didn't care. You couldn't even take in complete breaths; the lack of dryness on your skin didn't even occur to you.

Hyunjin put his chin on your head and whispered, "Just breathe. It'll all be over soon."

As your breathing and heart rate slowed, you became distinctly aware of the fact that you were currently covered in dirty water and the pee of aquatic animals. Breaking away from Hyunjin's comforting hold, you let out an incoherent string of words, grabbed the first pair of pajamas you could find, and staggered into the bathroom.

Throwing off your clothes with a newfound urgency to feel dry and clean, you stepped into the shower and let out a tired sigh as soon as the hot droplets hit you repeatedly. It was a startling contrast to the unchanging sensation of cold you were locked in for the past thirty minutes (at least that was what you assumed it was, considering your knowledge of time itself was currently fucked). Feeling your muscles loosening underneath you, you made the blunder of closing you eyes.

As soon as you did, the water now sliding down your naked skin felt all too similar to the water that nearly took your life.

You were drowning again, literally in water and figuratively in despair. You reached out for help, screamed until your voice went hoarse. The light was coming for you, luminescent orbs turning into menacing vessels of death. But nobody came. And the terrifying reality was, nobody would.

Tripping over the shower cubicle, you lunged for your towel and scrubbed your skin until it was red and raw. Even a single drop of water felt like acid on your skin. In you haste to put on your clothes, you forgot to turn the shower on. Mustering your courage, you reached to turn the knob and made sure that no part of your body contacted anything other than a dry surface.

When you teetered over the elevated surface of the bathroom an soon as you opened the door, Hyunjin was already there to steady you.

"I'll dry your hair," he offered.

You nodded, still mum, and sat down on Hyunjin's bed. You noticed that he had changed into a white cotton shirt and gray sweatpants. Hyunjin leaned over to plug in the hairdryer. Coaxing you into turning around, his hands wove through your hair and nearly rocked you to sleep.

"Hyunjin," you whispered deliriously, "I feel safe in your arms."

You must have been really tired because you completely missed his response.

"And I feel safe knowing you are in my arms."

━━━━━━━✦✗✦━━━━━━━━

After Hyunjin had dried your hair, he helped you onto your bed. You had fallen asleep due to the sheer weight of your exhaustion. Hyunjin promised that he would be in the room, not leaving for a second. Your eyes shut and you slept for almost four hours.

When you woke up, it was late. The sky was no longer colored light blue, but instead shone a dark navy. You turned over your phone on the nightstand.

9:00 PM

"Hyun-jee came over," Hyunjin said.

You turned around to see him watching a drama on his phone. His hair was tussled, as if he had run his hands through it repeatedly. His eyes looked tired and his body looked weary but his smile was like a peek of sunlight on an unreasonably cloudy day.

"She left some noodles for you," he motioned towards the large Styrofoam box on the little coffee table in your room.

You snatched up and hungrily began eating. "Thanks," you said between mouthfuls.

"No problem. You should be thanking Hyun-jee."

"I will."

"Do you want to watch something?"

"Okay."

Hyunjin started a new drama for the both of you to watch. The only sounds in the room were noises from his laptop and your slow chewing. You were grateful that Hyunjin didn't press whenever you replied half heartedly or with one word.

It was such a paradoxical situation, the one you were stuck in. A mere ten hours ago, the thought of him being in close proximity almost drew you to insanity. Now, his steady presence was the only thing keeping you grounded.

Fate truly is fickle.

━━━━━━━✦✗✦━━━━━━━━

You woke up from your slumber with a start, sweat soaking through your clothes and onto your bedsheets. You were breathing heavily, so much that your lungs were hurting. Beside you, you could hear Hyunjin stirring in his sleep.

You chest was constricted and your breathing was shallowed. Ugly tears inched slowly, down your cheeks. Your hands were shaking and your vision was blurry.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm here now."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," you whispered to Hyunjin in the darkness.

"No," he said firmly, "You clearly aren't. Let me help you. Please."

You gave him a nod, which he probably didn't see in the darkness. Leaning over to turn on the table lamp nestled between the two beds, with a small click, the entire room was eliminated.

"Nightmare?"

"Yes. Sorry for disturbing you."

"Don't be."

Hyunjin started humming something into your hair, making you feel drowsy. Sleep was coming in waves, but you refused to close your eyes. Fighting to keep them open, you tried to place why whatever Hyunjin was humming sounded so familiar. Finally, you realized it.

"Oh my god," you snorted, "Are you humming the Sofia the First theme song right now?"

"Shh," he giggled, "Let me honor Sofia in peace."

You nestled into him more comfortable and felt his head fall onto yours. Slowly, he pulled you down onto the bed.

"Do you mind is I sleep?" he questioned.

"No," you replied, "Just please keep holding me."

He placed a soft kiss on your cheek in response and comfortably placed his head on the crook of your neck. Soon enough, melodious snores (how do even his snores sound attractive?) filled the silence in the room. You could do this forever.

Oh. You could do this forever.

But you didn't have forever. What you had was tantalizingly short in the grand scheme of things. And nearly dying had really put things into perspective. You might not have forever, but you have now. And ideally, now was all you needed.

But what would Hyun-jee think?

Except, did it really matter what she thought? She was your best friend, she had seen pieces of you that you hadn't shown anyone. If anybody would understand, it would be Hyun-jee. You began to question yourself. Was it really Hyun-jee you were scared of, or something else entirely?

Putting the blame on Hyun-jee for stopping yourself from pursuing Hyunjin was so easy. The truth was, you were frightened. Hyun-jee's opinion had nothing to do with it whatsoever.

You were so scared of the consequences after the falling apart of a relationship, that you were hesitant to be in one in the first place. The prospect of heartbreak and it's accompanying nastiness petrified you to the point where you were blind to the beauty of being in a relationship.

Your situation was pathetic really. You were pathetic. It wasn't even a paradoxical situation of unrequited love where you were hopelessly head over heels in love with Hyunjin and he couldn't have cared otherwise. He liked you back, at one point, may even have loved you back.

After tossing and turning, you finally came to one decision you were determined to go through with.

That night, you didn't sleep for two reasons: fear of drowning in the ocean and anticipation to drown in Hyun-jee's.

"Good morning angel," he yawned, "Did you get any sleep?"

"No," you gulped.

"Well that's to bad," he mumbled against you neck.

His hair tickled your face and you began second guessing whether or not you should really do this. Hyunjin blinked once, slowly, as if taking in his surroundings. When he probably realized where he was, he got up with a start.

"Shit, I had no idea I was this close to you. I'm really sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable and-"

"I like you," you blurted out. "I like you and I want to date you. I know you like me as well and I love Hyun-jee, but I want to experience loving you."

You looked down shyly as Hyunjin's jaw dropped. He cupped his hand around your cheeks and replied breathlessly, "Oh thank goodness. I would kiss you but you just survived a traumatic event and my breath probably stinks."

You opened you mouth to respond but ended up yawning instead. Hyunjin visibly held back his laughter and you playfully hit his arm.

You gave him a side-eye and he pulled you back into bed again, tickling you in the process. You shoved him and he laughed at you and by the end of it, you were so out of breath and so happy, that a part of you forgot that you very well may not have been here today.

You didn't have forever, but you had Hyunjin and that was enough.

━━━━━━━✦✗✦━━━━━━━━

epilogue.

You put your bags down on the wooden floor with an animated 'oof!' while you once again took in the grandeur of the Hwang family ski lodge. You were back again, invited (this time by Hyunjin) to spend the summer with the Hwangs.

Everything was coming full circle, wasn't it?

Hyunjin's mother approached you with a smile on her face. She pulled you in for a tight hug, her perfume attacking your senses.

"How have you been, my child?" Her hair was pinned up to perfection and her skin was flawless.

"Really good," you told her excitedly, filling her in on all the gossip that was taking place at your university.

She listened to you keenly and once you finished, she told you, "Oh, Hyunjin is in his room, by the way."

She shot you a wink and you felt like you would melt out of embarrassment.

"I didn't know he told you," you said sheepishly.

"He didn't have to," his mother laughed.

Mothers. Their powers were strong enough to make the childhood version of you believe they were psychic.

You bounded up the familiar stairs to Hyunjin's room. Not bothering to knock (what's the worst he could be? naked?), you rushed inside and fell dramatically onto his bed. Hyunjin regarded you with a hint of fear at you sudden entrance.

Turning over on your stomach to face him, you announced with an air of superiority, "I did it."

That could only mean one thing in this context.

Hyunjin's eyes widened. "You did it? You submitted your dissertation?" he asked in awe.

You nodded enthusiastically and brought your face close to his. "I'm yours for the next three months now."

Hyunjin pouted, "I thought you already were mine."

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled him in for a long awaited kiss. It was to no avail however; you both were smiling against each other's lips so much that it wasn't quite a kiss.

Breaking away, you were about to settle in next to Hyunjin when you told him, "It feels weird though. Not having to do anything. Does that make sense?"

"If you say it, it makes sense. And if I happen to think it does not, I will attempt to look at it from your perspective. Regardless of either situation though, I will accept it because I love you, and that to me is what love is. Unwavering dedication and acceptance," Hyunjin replied with ease.

You felt your heart stutter. He was the first to say he loved you, two weeks ago under a dimly lit bookstore you were in. Hyunjin was said he knew the moment you gave him a smile and he realized, it was a smile you only presented in front of him.

"I love you too, dork," you said cheekily.

Hyunjin had shown you shades of love that you could never escape from. Every little action of his encompassed love. From the small smiles he always sent your way to the way he tucked your hair behind your ear and always carried extra rubber bands for you, Hyunjin was love personified

"I'm here!" came the unmistakable voice of Hyun-jee.

You and Hyunjin exchanged a glance. You had decided that it would be best to tell Hyun-jee about the relationship as soon as possible. Hiding your relationship from her for three months seemed like a mammoth endeavor.

After finding Hyun-jee wolfing down cookies in the kitchen and giving her a customary bear hug, you gave her a nervous laugh.

"Wosh? You bosh look like you neesh to chell me shomething."

"Ew," whined Hyunjin, "Chew first."

Hyun-jee swallowed and said, "You both look like you're hiding something from me. You didn't break something I own, right?"

"Actually," you hesitated and Hyunjin gave you a small nod of encouragement, "We did have to tell you something. Hyunjin and I... we have been dating for the last two, two and a half months."

You let out a slow breath, gauging Hyun-jee's reaction. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows knitted. You could see her visibly tensing and take in a shallow intake of breath.

Shock slowly settled into Hyun-jee's features. "How long?"

"Well technically since we were eighteen, but we were scared of your reaction and-" you gave Hyunjin a small kick to his shin. He ruffled your hair back.

"So, you are telling me that you both have liked each other for that long but decided not to do anything about it because you were scared of me?" Hyun-jee marvelled.

"Well, yes-"

"Oh my god," Hyun-jee laughed, "You both are so dense. Do you know how much I have been rooting for this relationship? Hell, I even booked one room for the two of you as soon as I realized that I forgot."

"You did that on purpose?" you were reeling from the revelation.

All of your belief that you would have to choose between friendship of love came crashing down. Relief washed over you and a sob that was lodged in your throat finally found release.

Hyun-jee and you went back and forth until Hyunjin finally put an end to the conversation. "These," he declared picking up the tin of cookies that Hyun-jee was previously snacking on, "Are mine."

He proceeded to run out of the kitchen as Hyun-jee chased him with a spatula, screaming bloody murder. After the siblings finally calmed down, all three of you collapsed onto the large couch in the middle of the lounge. Looking at your friends, your family, made you realize that you were loved.

Maybe, falling in love wasn't so bad. Yes, you fell. You fell hard and soft, you fell with your hands bloodied and the sensation of flying. You fell, but Hyunjin was there to catch you. And as he assured you over and over again, he would always be there to catch you.

Hyunjin laced his hands through yours and gave it a squeeze. This time, it was a promise. A promise of whatever eternity you both had left that would be spent together. A promise to love through the light and the dark.

A promise to be each other's first and last loves.

main taglist (reply to be added) -

@linoalwaysknows @moon0fthenight @hyulino @palindrome969

@squishybinnieee

fic taglist - @scarlet789 @taichoushadowficrec

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

can you write 90s Axl Rose being all sweet to his girlfriend and they have bath sex in the jacuzzi in their hotel room?

A/n: the thought of this is really sweet but I just can’t stop thinking about how badly it would hurt like on your knees and stuff, man I’d fall and break my jaw power to you if you could survive bath sex

Also sorry that it’s short I kind of lost motivation halfway through, I hope you it’s still good <3

Warnings: smut, fingering (f receiving), bath sex, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You were so happy that Axl finally brought you out on tour with him. You'd been seeing each other for almost a year and had always wanted to come with him.

Axl was hesitant, tours could be draining, but Guns was going to some of the most romantic places this tour and he was sure it would make a great trip for the both of you.

You'd been so excited for this trip, planning and packing a month in preparation for it. Axl didn't seemed stressed in the slightest, although you were the one packing for him and his trip planning was also done by a group manager. He did try to help you calm down a few times, it usually worked, at the very least it was helpful and a sweet gesture.

When the tour finally came he refused to leave your side, even if you were just going to the bathroom he'd wait outside for you.

With the way everyone was treating you you got the feeling he had given a speech to everyone, lecturing them on how to treat you.

Axl wanted to show you off, always helping you pick out more revealing clothes when it was just the two of you going out, making sure people saw when he brought you into his dressing room. He wanted people to know how lucky he was to have you and he wanted people to know he had you.

It was about a week into the tour, you'd just landed in Paris and were staying in a hotel room that had a window staring out directly onto the Eiffel Tower.

It was night and the city was glowing so beautifully, you couldn't help but stare out the big window.

Axl came up behind you, placing his hands on your hips and giving them a small squeeze. "Beautiful, isn't it?" You nodded. Axl opened his mouth to say something more but you interrupted him.

"No ruining it with something cheesy." Axl scoffed.

"It wasn't gonna say anything cheesy." You rolled your eyes. "I was just gonna say that it's not as beautiful as you." You groaned and walked off.

"Alright, you ruined it." Axl laughed. "I'm going to check out the place." You walked back into the living room area, a half kitchen by the front door. You noticed another door leading out to what you assumed to be a deck, and it was. A deck with a jacuzzi, that is. It was filled and ready to go so you immediately went to get in.

You went to change into a bathing suit but couldn't find one, even though you were sure you had brought one. You searched and searched but it simply wasn't in your suitcase, so you went looking for Axl.

You eventually found him on the deck setting up candles and tossing in rose petals. He smiled back at you when he heard the door open. "Where's my bathing suit?" You asked, coming to stand beside him and admire his work.

"Come on, you don't need a bathing suit." He assured, wrapping an arm around you and rubbing your side. You rolled your eyes at him. Axl shrugged and began to strip.

Your eyes widened as you looked out across the city. "What are you doing?" Axl was already getting in the water.

"Thought you could use some company." He said with a smile. "Now you won't be lonely. You chewed your cheek but you couldn't deny that it sounded nice so you stripped as well and got in with him.

The water was just right, it relaxed your muscles and smelled so good with the candles. Axl sat beside you, running his hands over your body, kissing down your neck and whispering in your ear.

His hands moved lower, rubbing your thighs, teasing your hole. You let out a soft sigh. "What are you doing?" You asked, voice low and airy.

"Just helping you relax." He said, deep voice raspy in your ear. You melted under his touch, head falling back and resting on his shoulder and he rubbed your clit in circles, drawing more moans out of you.

He slid a finger into you, groaning when he heard the noise that came from you. "You're so pretty, you know that?" You moaned in response, grinding down on his finger. "Don't worry, we're getting there." He kissed your cheek and pulled his finger out of you, you whined softly.

He pulled you up onto his lap, sinking you down onto his dick. His arms wrapped around your waist and he held you tight to his chest. He rolled his hips, you gasped softly and he did it again. You started grinding down on him and soon you both found a rhythm.

"Ah-ngh, Axl." You muttered. "Fuck, go faster." He chuckled and kissed your neck. He started moving faster and you matched his speed.

Axl pushed you off of him and turned you around. You were staring out to the cityscape below, all the bright lights scattered across the town, the Eiffel Tower looming not far away.

Your hands were on the edge of the jacuzzi, your knees resting on the seats, Axl was behind you with his hands on your hips. "Was this what you were thinking when I asked you to come on tour with me?" He asked, deep voice pulling you from your thoughts.

You shrugged. "Not the first thing that came to mind." He kissed the back of your neck and over your shoulders.

“But it’s pretty fucking nice, huh?” You inhaled deeply, moaning softly when he pushed into you once more.

“Hah, it’s perfect.” You sighed. “You make it more perfect.”

Axl laughed. “And I’m the cheesy one?” You waved him off and pushed your ass back on him.

[0cta9on]

Stuck With You

length: +2k words

Genre: Fluff

NewJeans Minji x Male Reader (OC)

(Author's Note: My first commission!! Thank you to f_r_e_s_h for purchasing a commission, I appreciate it a lot :) If you're interested in buying a commission from me, head on over to my ko-fi page!!)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

 A light breeze brushes past you, relieving you of your exhaustion for a brief moment as you watch the sun set below the city of Paris from the balcony of your hotel room. The 14-hour flight from Korea was hell, but the view alone made it all worth it. It has always been part of your bucket list to visit Paris one day, it’s a shame that you won’t be able to actually experience any of it though. With the International Summit starting tomorrow, you need to be extra focused on your work as a diplomat representing your country.

A cafe sits across the street from your hotel, beckoning you with its warm and welcoming light. You watch as the people inside talk and laugh about things you can only assume, enjoying one another’s company on this chilly winter day. A nice cup of coffee sounds great right now, but you have to be ready for tomorrow. But… It’s not tomorrow yet. The night is still young, giving you a couple hours to check out the cafe and maybe even explore the city for a little bit. You did all the extra work you needed to do on the plane, so there’s no reason for you to stay in your hotel room. After the summit is over, you’ll be on a flight straight back to Korea, and when are you ever gonna have the time to come back to Paris again? Besides, you’ve been working too hard for far too long, you deserve to have a small break.

Without hesitation, you grab your coat and exit your room, beelining it straight towards the elevators as you mentally practice the little French that you learned before the trip. With a resounding ding, the elevator doors open and you walk inside, only a couple floors standing between you and the City of Light.

The elevator shifts to a stop on one of the floors, opening to reveal a girl around your age wearing a mask and a cap pulled low over her eyes. Even with the majority of her face covered, you could feel the aura of elegance and beauty surrounding her. Her outfit isn’t anything crazy on the surface - a hoodie layered with a leather jacket and a clean pair of jeans - yet something about the way she wears it is so attractive. You wouldn’t be surprised if you find out that she’s a model for Paris Fashion Week, which coincidentally occurs at the same time as the summit.

“Hello,” you greet as she steps into the elevator. She returns your greeting with a simple nod, a small gesture that makes your heart flutter. You didn’t necessarily believe in love at first sight, but you imagine this is how it would feel like.

The elevator descends in silence, save for its mechanical rumble. Due to the nature of your job, you meet a lot of important people from around the world, so your conversational skills have naturally improved over the years. However, you suddenly find yourself tongue-tied around this random girl, not even a simple “How are you?” can escape your lips. All you can do is sneak little glances at her, but now you just feel creepy. Oh well, it’s not like you’re here to meet women or anything of that sort. You just want to feel some freedom for a little bit.

Suddenly, you nearly fall to the ground as the elevator begins to jerk violently. A hauntingly loud creaking noise can be heard from outside as the elevator abruptly stops its descent. The girl trips forward into your chest, and you instinctively catch her, holding on until the elevator eventually stops swaying.

Both of you share a huge sigh of relief. Even if the elevator stopped working, at least you're not plummeting to your doom.

“T-thank you,” the girl says, her voice trembling slightly. You meet her eyes for the first time, suddenly greeted by the most beautiful shade of brown you have ever seen. They’re invigorating like the strongest shot of espresso, sweet like the creamiest hazelnut chocolate, and warming like the first cup of hot cocoa in the winter. You could spend hours, no, years just looking into her eyes, getting lost in every flicker of her irises and every flutter of her lashes.

“Um, are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, s-sorry,” you stutter nervously, finally letting her go. You turn away from her, hoping she doesn’t notice the deep red in your cheeks.

She starts pushing buttons at random, but none of them seem to work, not even the one to call the firefighters. A wave of dread washes over the both of you at the realization that you have no idea how long it’ll take to get out of this metal coffin. Maybe an hour at best, maybe never at worst. With nothing else you can possibly do, you resign yourself to the ground, resting your back against the wall. This is what you get for trying to live a little - you get trapped in a box, forced to think about the consequences of your actions. All because you wanted a cup of coffee.

The girl sits across from you, tossing her hat and mask off in defeat, ruffling her silky black hair with her fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat - she is absolutely gorgeous. You swear you’ve seen her face before, maybe she’s a model for a high-fashion brand or the daughter of a rich CEO who ends up getting in the news for trivial matters. Either way, you can’t help but stare at her, slack-jawed in awe.

“Um, did you want an autograph or something?” She asks, her eyebrows raised in judgment.

You pick your jaw up off the ground, your cheeks burning red with embarrassment. “N-no, sorry, you just look really familiar. Have we met somewhere before?”

She chuckles lightly at your expression. “No, I don’t think we have. I’m Minji.” She reaches her hand out towards you in a friendly handshake, which you accept with a smile.

“I’m Eric. It’s nice to meet you, Minji.” The two of you share a laugh despite the unconventional circumstances. “Weird question, are you Korean?”

“Wah, that’s a good guess. How’d you know?” Minji tilts her head like a curious puppy, causing your heart rate to skyrocket. You can’t fathom how someone can be this cool, cute, and pretty all at the same time.

“Your name,” you explain. “I live in Korea for work, so I’ve gotten used to hearing Korean names.”

“Really? What do you do for work?” 

“I work at the embassy in South Korea representing my country. I’m actually in Paris for the International Summit this week.”

“Oh wow, that’s so cool!” Minji’s eyes light up with wonder, her smile making you forget about the dire situation you’re in.

“Hehe, thanks! What about you, what do you do for work?”

“I, um…” She hesitates, lost in thought. “I’m here for Paris Fashion Week.”

“That makes sense, you’re very beautiful,” you suddenly blurt out. Your eyes grow wide with shock at your own words. “I-I mean, uh-”

“No, it’s okay. That’s very sweet.” A light pink hue graces her cheeks as she smirks at you. “So, is this your first time in Paris?”

You let out a sigh of relief, thankful that she didn’t take your compliment weirdly. “Yeah, it’s my first time. I was gonna go out and see the city for a bit since I’ll be swamped with work for the next couple of days, but now I’m… here.”

She nods in understanding. “That’s what I was doing too. It’s difficult to find a moment to myself because of my job. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a ton of fun, but sometimes I feel like a robot following orders, not really being able to live.”

The space between you falls silent in contemplation. You know that feeling all too well. You love that you’re able to help thousands of people every day by being a voice for the people who need it, but work can often get in the way of what you want to do. When was the last time you spent time with your family? Or sat down with a good book? Or went on a date? When was the last time you were able to breathe?

“If you weren’t stuck in here right now, what would you be doing?” You ask in hopes that it will lift the mood.

“Hmm, I don’t know. Probably walk around and take pictures of all the pretty lights. Maybe get some ice cream if there are any shops open.”

Your ears perk up. “Ice cream? In the winter?”

Minji puts her arms up in defense. “Before you go judging me, just try it for yourself first, alright?”

“No, I like it too!” You exclaim, surprised that you found someone that thinks like you. “I don’t like waiting until summer just to eat ice cream. It tastes better during winter anyways.”

“Oh my god!” Minji jumps up in excitement. “Finally, someone who gets it! All my friends called me weird for eating ice cream when it’s cold outside!”

Enthused by her energy, you stand up to meet her. “They just don’t understand that it doesn’t melt as quickly so you get to enjoy it for longer.”

“Right?!”

You suddenly find yourself inches away from her face, staring into her big, round eyes. The subtle heat of her breath brushes against your cheeks, warming your entire body. You would gladly spend forever stuck in this moment with her, watching the reflection of the universe in her eyes.

As the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. Minji pulls away, leaving you breathless. You quickly change the subject before the air between you gets too awkward to the point of no return.

“So… Paris Fashion Week. How’d you get involved with that?”

Much to your relief, Minji eases up, leaning against the wall as she turns to you. “I was invited by Chanel to come and watch their show, and I’ve always loved fashion so there was no way I was going to decline the invitation.”

“Oh, you’re watching the show? I assumed that you were modeling for them,” you say.

She chuckles to herself, blushing slightly. “Are you sure you didn’t break the elevator on purpose just so you could flirt with me?”

“N-no, I didn’t, I swear!” You stutter, flustered. Minji cackles like a hyena at your expression, causing you to keel over in laughter yourself from the insane sound coming out of her mouth. The sound of joyous laughter from two strangers fills the small elevator, unsure of how much time has passed or if you’re ever going to get out of there. You wonder what would’ve happened if the elevator worked normally. Would you be here talking like this? Or would the two of you go about your night without a single word shared between each other? Sure, seeing the streets of Paris would have been great, but would it have been as great as this?

Both of you find yourselves lying side by side, staring up at the bright fluorescent light, your stomachs aching from laughter. Despite it being your first meeting, you can’t help but feel like you’ve known her your whole life. Maybe it’s the same way survivors of a big tragedy bond through shared trauma or something like that.

“Do you really not know who I am?” Minji asks after a long silence. You rack your brain for any possible memories of ever seeing her, but only a faint silhouette appears in your mind.

“Sorry, I really don’t,” you answer. “Oh god, don’t tell me we’re old classmates or something. I would feel terrible if we used to be friends and I didn’t know.”

Her laugh tickles your ear like spring grass brushing against your legs. “No, it’s not like that. Honestly, it feels kinda nice that you don’t know anything about me. No expectations, no questions, no nothing. You just treat me like…. a regular human being,” she sighs.

“Now I’m kinda scared to ask who you are,” you quip, catching a smile from her. “Maybe I don’t have it as bad as you, but I can relate to you somewhat. There’s a lot of people depending on me to make the right decisions and if I miss up even a little bit, so many people get affected by it. If I get recognized in the streets, sometimes they’ll outright tell me what to do, talking about how their families would suffer because of me or outright threatening me to do what they want. It feels like I’m constantly walking on a tightrope being held by two sides that hate each other. No matter what I do, someone is always unhappy.”

Minji meets your eyes in mutual understanding. “That sounds really tough. I’m sorry, Eric.”

Such a simple gesture, yet one that you desperately needed. Talking to her feels like a massive weight is being lifted off of you. The amount of silent suffering you’ve had to endure over the years is finally being unloaded without judgment. With how many people’s lives you affect every day, you never truly realized just how lonely you feel. Thanks to Minji, you feel a little less alone.

“So, what is that you do?” You ask to lift up the mood. “I’ve been dying to know. I’m assuming you’re a celebrity of some kind?”

She smirks at you. “Have you ever heard of New Jeans?”

And then it clicks. You’ve seen her face plastered everywhere in Korea, billboards, ads, commercials, less than 24 hours ago you walked past her face in the airport right before you left. While you aren’t the biggest Kpop fan in the world, you would be lying if you said you didn’t have Hype Boy in your playlist for a solid month.

“Ah, so that’s why you looked so familiar. I’m glad you’re not a classmate I forgot about,” you joke.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if we were friends in another lifetime. You’re very easy to talk to.” Minji meets your eyes, casting that warm smile that makes you feel at ease. You forget that you’re in this tiny box with no way out but patience. You forget that in less than 24 hours, you’ll be surrounded by the most important figures in the world, attending a conference that can impact billions of people across the globe. You forget about your feelings of loneliness, anxiety, and stress that you’ve been feeling recently. As you look into Minji’s eyes, all you can think about is her. Her kindness. Her radiance. Her laugh. Just her.

The elevator begins to shake around you, rumbling to life. Your eyes shut, bracing for impact, but all you feel is the gradual descent of the elevator before it lands on the first floor. You and Minji stand up, not a word exchanged between the two of you. Is this… it? Is it over? Are you just supposed to go your separate ways now?

The doors open to reveal the owner of the hotel on the other side, relief and guilt painted on his sweaty face. “I-I am terribly sorry about the elevator, are you two alright?” He asks.

As you reassure him of your safety, you notice Minji quickly slipping past, donning her mask and hat. You decline the owner’s offer of a free spa day and chase after her.

Minji is an idol. Intimidatingly gorgeous, held to an impossibly high standard that she somehow manages to exceed at every turn. Despite that, she’s also kind, humorous, and down to Earth, nothing like many of the celebrities you’ve seen on social media. Even in your brief meeting, she understood you. She wanted to understand you. You can visit Paris again sometime in the future. But Minji? You’ll never meet a person like her again.

You push through the doors, hit by the frigid winter air as a gentle dusting of snow falls upon Paris. Minji stands at a cross walk, her silhouette covered by unmistakable, and you quickly catch up to her. “H-hey, hi, um…” The words get caught in your throat as nervousness overwhelms you. Can you really do this? Would you be able to make this work with your busy schedules? Maybe, maybe not. But you’ll never know if you don’t try.

“Would you want to get a cof-”

“Yes,” Minji interrupts you, her voice lilting with enthusiasm. “I would love to have coffee. With you.” The snowfall catches in her eyes, glimmering with hope and excitement.

All the nerves you felt moments ago completely wash away, replaced by disbelief and an indescribable happiness in your heart. Minji intertwines her fingers with yours, warming your body against the cold as the two of you cross the street towards the cafe and the rest of your lives.

[chimivx]

That one fucked you over last year, this one is fucking you over this year, you had no idea she was involved with him, someone over here has been lying to you, you didn't mean to end up in that ones bed, he told you he loved you... Does anyone even trust anyone anymore?

👫 -> college!teez x fem!reader/oc {frat/sorority} #️⃣ -> 11k (part ONE of ten) ‼️ -> 18+, sexual content, drugs/alcohol, college life, all the drama, heavy angst, infidelity adjacent moments, mean boys, mean girls, mentions of anxiety/depression… IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

september 3rd ~ tuesday ~ 8:03 a.m.

“Up!”

A perfectly manicured hand in the shape of a fist pounded against your bedroom door, the noise funneling straight into your hungover brain, the pain sharp as you lurched forward in your sheets. Pushing your hair away, you drug your hands over your face and around your eyes, groaning at the leftover makeup that came off on your fingers. Looking down at yourself, thankfully you were in sleep clothes, but you don’t remember putting them on.

“Get up!” The fist pounded on the white wood again, four times. It was Yeji, your sororities newly elected president. She wasn’t your first choice, but your former president graduated last year. Yeji wasn’t anyone’s first choice actually, nobody voted for her or vouched for her, she was handed the position because she was the Paris Hilton of your generation.

No one dared say that to her face though, but she knew it anyway. Her great-grandfather had a shit ton of money, which meant her grandfather had a shit ton of money, which in turn left her father with a shit ton of money, and after all these years and the plethora of businesses they own… People knew who Yeji was. She was your age, twenty-one, and in your year. You’ve gone through the last two years of school with her, and now you’re a few days away from starting your third with her as your president.

“Meeting! Now! Up!” She was strutting up and down the hall, circling the staircase, and banging on your door again. The heels she already had on at eight o’clock in the morning hit the floor with a persistence, you could hear her when she rounded the wood floors once more.

A groan sounded from the bed pushed to the wall opposite of your own. “If she doesn’t shut the fuck up, I swear…” Rubbing your eyes for the second time, hoping to clean up what was left under them, you toss your rumpled sheets off your legs and slip out of bed. 

“Come on,” you sighed, pulling sweatpants over your bare legs. A sleep shirt made it on, apparently pants did not. You weren’t as coherent as you thought last night. Another groan came from the bed of messy blankets and piles of pillows. “Tori,” you said, hearing the heels from the hall make their way around. Pulling your hair into something a bit nicer than whatever mess you woke up with, you take to your roommate's side and pull her blankets off of her. “She’ll be back if we don’t go out there now.”

“You’re lucky I put clothes on,” she laughed to herself, rolling over. A smile lit up her face as she stretched her arms over her head with a yawn. 

Rolling your eyes you folded your arms over your chest and shrugged. “I think I’ve seen more than Mingi.” Tori squeezed her eyes shut and breathed through a laugh.

“He’s so-”

“I know.” Cutting her off, you shared a laugh with her through your glare before gesturing to the door. “Let’s go.”

Tori sat herself up and messed with her tank, yanking it toward the diamond in her bellybutton. Situating her long brown waves into the quickest, yet prettiest pony, she eyed you while you attempted to clean yourself up in the wall length mirror in between your beds. 

“What’s up your ass?” She peered at the door as the high heels clicked closer.

Fixing your hair for the second time, you grit your teeth and sighed. “Nothing.”

Tori narrowed her eyes. “What’d Yunho say to you last night?”

“Nothing,” you said, turning to her once you were satisfied with your appearance. Tori has this ability to wake up and go, doing little to her hair or face, able to move on with her day. It was effortless, something you’ve been trying to achieve since high school.

She pursed her lips. “Alright, but I thought I saw-”

“Up!” Yeji’s fist hit the wood and Tori solved the issue herself.

“We are!” The shout echoed in your ears and most likely worsened either of your headaches, if she had one. She was able to bounce back like she didn’t outdrink you mere hours ago.

“All I needed.” Yeji’s passive aggressive tone seeped through the cracks of the door and sunk into your skin like needles. “Be downstairs in two minutes.” Pressing your sweaty palms to your sweats, you looked at Tori who was questioning you with a brow.

“You really don’t like her,” she said as Yeji walked away.

“Never have,” you whispered. “She didn’t earn her position. Four months ago she was chugging beer with us in ATZ’s basement, and now she’s this?” You hoped your gesture toward the door was enough, emphasizing the heels and the power she was trying to exert over you on her third day of presidency. Since you’ve been back she’s turned into a complete snob. 

Tori bobbed her head, letting her eyes dance around the bedroom you’ve both turned into your own. “Yeah, she’s a bitch.”

“Always has been,” you snapped.

“You sure it’s not ‘cause-”

Turning your back to her you cut her off by pulling the door open. “Let’s go,” you said, ignoring her soft laugh.

Stepping out into the hall that wrapped around the staircase in a square, all the other doors were shut, all seven of them. The old Victorian styled home had been renovated entirely too many times that the vintage appeal was almost nonexistent. The eight rooms on this second floor had all been converted to bedrooms back in the 1990’s completely wiping it of all its historical semblance.

Chestnut brown hardwood floors infested the building, on both floors, in every room, and every wall had to have been repainted white dozens of times. The layers were apparent on the wainscotting, it was obvious there was wallpaper beneath the cheap job the previous chapter member’s tried to pull off as nice.

At least photos hung on the plain walls. The sororities history, your history, was plastered high and low for everyone to gawk at. Every year a portrait was added, since the sorority was established. You’ve been in two of them so far. The first was taken when you and Tori were freshman, two little bright eyed recruits paying your dues before you were given the chance to join as full fledged members. Sophomore year, just last year after official recruitment, you and Tori were in the first official row with Yeji a few heads over.

Last year there were ten more girls in the photo. Six had graduated this past spring, and four were freshman recruits who didn’t come back to school, or turned down their chance at recruitment. Rumor has it it’s because Yeji’s name was on the letter instead of the former president who they dealt with last semester. A rumor you chose to believe.

Only one freshman stayed. Her name was Mina, and she was exceptionally smart. Studying pre-law here at Nasara, on her recruitment registration she made a note that this school was her fathers alma mater. That fact coupled with her crazy GPA throughout her school life, she was an automatic in.

And thank god, too. As your, chosen by Yeji, Vice President, she made nine.

There were nine of you in this house when there used to be nineteen.

Sorority life was becoming some obscure way of spending your time at college, not many people wanted to do it anymore. Throughout the summer you had to hear through Ryujin, the only standing senior this year, that Yeji had been losing her mind asking her for help, some sort of direction on what to do, how to build this chapter back into what it once had been.

ITZ used to have around fifty members at all times.

This year you were down to nine.

Making sure Tori pulled the door shut behind her, not needing prying eyes in your business, the door beside yours is yanked open. In black basketball shorts and a matching sports bra Ryujin steps out with squinted eyes, glaring toward you and Tori. Messy bangs hung over her forehead, her shoulder length shaggy hair pulled behind her head in a terrible bun.

“Hey, she’s alive,” Tori joked, following you to the staircase. Smiling at Ryujin who teetered behind you, several inches shorter than Tori, just about your height, you laughed as she smacked a hand to your roommates tattooed arm. 

“Didn’t think Isla would be able to resuscitate you,” you said quietly, descending the grand staircase with both of them in line with you. Ryujin drug the back of her hand over her mouth and shook her head vigorously, pointing up at Tori.

“If she didn’t make me play Jongho in flip cup I’d be fine,” she sneered from behind her teeth. Tori slung an arm around her shoulders, laughing as she did. “No!” Ryujin half laughed, trying to shove her off. Looking to you for help she said, “One on one! You know how big that motherfucker is?”

Nodding, you stepped off the bottom stair and scanned the first floor for life. “I do know how big that motherfucker is.” Voice low, eyes pointed, when you turned to face your friends you were met with a set of curious eyes and equally annoyed ones.

“What’s your problem?” Ryujin asked, letting Tori squeeze her. Anyone friends with her knew that if she was letting you touch her, you’d better get all your time in before she never let you touch her for another two weeks. Tori pressed her cheek to Ryujin’s forehead, playing up her gushiness with a hum. That triggered it. Ryujin nudged her away with her hip. “Were you sick? What happened?”

“No, I didn’t drink that much,” you breathed.

Tori tossed her arms out at her side, unaffected by Ryujin’s shove. “She hates Yeji.”

“Don’t we all?” Ryujin looked up at her. Pointing her eyes back to you she did a onceover and curled her lip. “Oh, wait, ‘cause-”

“No!” your voice echoed down the hall that stretched along both sides of the staircase. Folding her arms over her bare middle, Ryujin smirked, nodding once. Then, she was off, turning the right corner toward the sitting room.

Double doors lived on either side of you and Tori at the bottom of the stairs, ahead of you was the front door, double latched and locked always. To your left was the living room, the common area where you’d all hang out or do school work, and to your right was the dining room. A long wooden table stretched along the middle, on top of a dingy carpet bought by a chapter centuries ago it seemed. That was the only room that held the most vintage vibe, the chandelier hanging over the table was original, it was different colored stained glass and beautiful.

Down the hall to the right was the sitting room where all of the meetings happened, where Yeji had a desk and shelves and more space to do her job as if she didn’t already have a room to herself in a house with three vacant bedrooms. To the left there was the kitchen and a bathroom shoved into what would be the maids quarters if it were hundreds of years ago. The walls were layered in white paint down here as well, with more recent photos of the sorority hanging up.

“Not gonna talk about it,” Tori said for clarity. Sharpening your glare, she cringed. “Got it, alright. You won’t hear it come outta my mouth ever again.”

Groaning, you bounced your knees once and snatched her wrist, pulling her down the hallway after Ryujin, straight into the room where all of your sisters were waiting for you. The dark haired girl had already found a spot beside Isla, her roommate, on the couch pushed against the wall in the back of the room. Sporting tired eyes and a slightly mussed up slick back, Isla fought to keep her head up.

Yuna, the chapter's Treasurer, fought to keep her head up as well. Nestled into one of the sage green velvet lounge chairs with a high back, dressed in the same shirt she wore last night, she had her chin in her hand and her elbow on the velvet.

Three heads turned to watch you and Tori walk in, your roommate giggling as they spun in sync. Chaeryeong, the chapter’s Secretary, a Criminal Justice major with the cutest nose, gave you the tiniest smile. Lia, luscious black hair in Pre-Med, sat up straight on the edge of the couch to the side of Yeji’s wood carved desk. Mina was the only one to say something to you, giving you the sweetest good morning before tucking her dark brown bob behind her ears.

The three were not in attendance at ATZ's party last night.

Four if you count Yeji.

Lord knew you were not counting Yeji.

“Sisters.” The wretched voice began the second you and Tori were planted on the floor in front of Ryujin and Isla. Yeji, flipping her ombre hair over her shoulder, hair that was already curled and set into place, rounded her desk and sat in the leather chair behind it. She did already have heels on at eight in the morning, heels and little lavender sundress.

“Madam President,” Ryujin muttered, pulling a smirk out of you and a laugh from Tori. Chaeryeong flipped open a notebook she had on her lap, the click of her pen wiping your lips of any amusement. 

This really was a meeting.

Yeji smiled at Ryujin, leaning onto her desk with her elbows. “Thank you, Ryujin,” she said, tone in defense. “That is what I am,” she scanned her eyes about the room, “That is the role that I am here to fill, to be a leader for you. All of you.” Chaeryeong scribbled away in her notes. “We’ve been here for three days and I’m already concerned for our future moving forward.” Tori hit you with a side eye, one you returned holding in a laugh.

Ryujin grumbled. “Yeji, what happened, can you just tell us straight up?”

“Course!” Yeji grinned, her smile somewhat sadistic. Opening the laptop that sat before her, she spun the screen around and then worked at her phone, tapping a few buttons before a video popped up on the bigger screen. Tori reached a frantic hand over and clawed your forearm.

“That’s Mingi’s Instagram story,” she whispered. “Why are we watching Mingi’s Instagram story?”

Music pumped through the speakers, familiar sounds from the night before coming back to you. Boys were shouting, girls were singing, people were dancing… Tori had a red cup to her lips, downing the contents before throwing it toward Mingi who held the phone. With a lick of her lips and a raise of both her arms she cheered for herself as Mingi praised her. She started dancing along to the music and Mingi’s voice said, “Almost caught up to me, baby,” right before the screen went black.

Tori’s grip loosened on your arm. Looking at you, then Ryujin and Isla, who had dozed off, she faced Yeji for the reason why, but your president was silent. Tapping a few things on her screen, another video played.

Yuna and her chocolate curls were posing with San, identical music blasting in the back like Mingi’s post. She stuck her tongue out and threw up a peace sign, then laughed and focused on someone off screen.

“Here.” It was Jongho’s voice. San adjusted the camera so he was still in frame, keeping Yuna and Jongho just over his shoulder. The boy showed off his jaw that could cut glass, then smiled as he watched his friends take a shot in the camera.

“God, it’s gasoline,” Yuna cringed, grabbing her mouth, dropping the cup into Jongho’s hand.

The screen went black.

The room was silent. Yuna, from the chair across the room, sent the four of you a glance, all of you collectively wondering the same thing.

Where the hell was this going?

“Yeji-”

She didn’t let Ryujin finish, she played another video.

Wooyoung’s Instagram story. Tori turned her chin to look at you this time.

His camera focused on a group of girls dancing with him, every single one of them tagged in the video somewhere. Then, he flipped it around and wore a smug grin as he weaved through the bodies congregating in his house, searching for something.

“Do you see everybody over here having a good time?!” His voice carried through the video, flipping your stomach over. His face appeared on the screen, his tan skin and his perfectly curved nose. “ATZ, baby!” He flashed his teeth and bit his lip. The camera flipped over as he approached a dark corner, and there you were.

Sitting on the arm of the leather couch with a red cup in your hand, your legs were stretched over Yunho’s lap, his arms folded over your knees. One of his frat brothers, Vernon, stood behind you, leaning over the back of the couch so he could involve himself in your conversation. He was partially spotting you where you sat, his hand occasionally tapping your back to keep you in place if you leaned back too far.

You didn’t drink that much.

“What the fuck goes on over here?” Wooyoung asked, the three of you looking up at him at once, confused. Yunho, mid sentence, shook his head and tried to smile because the camera was on him. Vernon hid his face and ducked out of frame.

“Bro, you can’t do that,” he muttered off screen.

Narrowing your eyes, you glared at him. “Fuck off.”

His gasp would’ve made you laugh if it was seven months ago. “Chill, baby, what do you mean!”

“Fuck off,” you said without a change in your face. Yunho took his lips between his teeth and glanced at your lap. Wooyoung came closer to you.

“I just wanted to ask you a question.” You could hear his pout through the screen without needing to see it. Raising a brow in response, he hit you with, “How’s your brand new president? Yeji at ITZ? Is she as good as she promised?”

“You tell me,” you said without missing a beat. Wooyoung’s laugh sent chills up your spine where you sat on the floor with Tori’s hand clamped to your wrist. “How good is President Yeji?”

The screen went black.

Chaeryeong had stopped scribbling. Mina, jaw popped open, stared at you. Lia chewed on an acrylic nail and waited for Yeji to say anything else. Ryujin tapped your shoulder with a socked foot and breathed through a laugh.

Yeji snapped her laptop shut and placed her phone on the desk. Folding her hands in front of her she pointed her fox-like eyes toward you and lowered her chin. The stance was terrifying. Her ability to tear a person apart in seconds was mortifyingly impressive. Under the impression that it was your turn, that you broke a house rule, Yeji seemed ready to unload her presidential take on the situation by kicking you out.

“Repeat after me, sisters,” she said, tone eerily calm. The three who weren’t hungover snapped up straight. “I wear ITZ letters with pride.”

Looking at Tori, you parroted Yeji’s statement. ITZ’s Mission Statement. The rules. The insane paragraph you had to memorize to get recruited. Your friend gave you the smallest shrug and focused back on the president.

“It is my mission, my duty, to honor the members of ITZ, my sisters, by living up to the standards set in place by our sisters before us. Leading by example we support, encourage, and lift our fellow sisters up. In doing so we support, encourage, and lift the world up. One person at a time. We promote unity, and friendship, while receiving a higher education, to relay to women everywhere that, ‘Yes, we can.’”

After a few minutes the room fell silent, only Yeji’s eyes scanned the faces before her. Mushing her lips together, her red lip stain, she fluttered her lashes and smiled without flashing her teeth. She gave Chaeryeong a glance and the secretary flipped open her notebook.

“Sisters, it seems we have a problem,” she sighed. Some form of a pout graced her lips. “I think we’ve forgotten what it means to be a part of a sisterhood like ITZ. We’ve felt it, haven’t we?” Lia bobbed her head. Mina took Yeji in with worried eyes. “Look around,” half the girls listened, “How many of us are here?”

“Nine,” Lia said, and Ryujin snickered.

“Nine,” Yeji smiled at the girl in front of her just to spite the senior. “Thank you, Lia.”

“You’re welcome.” She nibbled at her cuticles. 

“There may be nine of us in the room, but how many of us are actually present?” Yeji looked to Yuna, then to Ryujin, then to Tori, then to you. “Aurora.” Addressing you by your full name she got you to shiver with a smidgen of fear. “Can you tell me where the five of you went last night?”

Gulping, you said just above a whisper, “ATZ.”

Yeji’s stare intensified, if it were possible. “ATZ,” she shimmied her shoulders, “How fun. What did you guys do there?” 

Tori’s grip had loosened on your wrist, but she didn’t move it.

“We went to the party,” you said, keeping your eyes locked on hers. “They throw one almost every night the first week back, you’ve been-“

“You went without the rest of us knowing,” Yeji tilted her head to the side, paying no mind to the sentence she interrupted. “Were we not invited?”

Ryujin mumbled something under her breath and shifted on the couch behind you. Tori gave her a glance and a small smile.

“Everyone is invited, there’s… there’s no invites,” you narrowed your eyes. It was a college party. A college party that was basic information to everyone who attended. ATZ threw their week-long back to school ragers every single year. It was their fraternity’s tradition. Everyone at Nasara has been to an ATZ party. Even Yeji.

“Hm,” she smushed her lips together. “Guess we missed that. Did you guys have fun?” The way her brows closed in on her forehead sparked a fight or flight feeling in your gut.

Taking a breath, you smiled. “We did.” Gesturing toward her laptop, you said, “Couldn’t you tell?” 

“We support, encourage, and lift our fellow sisters up,” Yeji snapped, repeating the mission statement. “None of what I saw reflected ITZ’s mission at all.” Pointing her eyes to those who attended the party, she said, “Now that we’re halfway through our first week I think it’s the perfect time to set some new rules into place. Rush is coming up, recruitment happens soon, and I’ll be damned if I acquire any more girls with the mentality half of you have. ITZ is a respectable sorority and I intend to keep it that way.”

“Is that what you were thinking when you fucked Wooyoung in Hongjoongs bed?”

Ryujin’s words suffocated you from behind. They wrapped around you and yanked you six feet under. Tori’s hand clamped down on your wrist tight. Shaking her away, she pulled her hands into her lap and shot you a look.

“ATZ is off limits!” Yeji’s voice packed a punch. Her smirk grew as gasps tumbled through most of your lips. “We are through with them.”

“How? They’re literally the brother frat, Yej.” Ryujin sat forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. Her version of an apology.

Tori lifted a hand. “I work with Mingi, how am I supposed to do my job?”

Clenching her jaw, Yeji took a breath through her nose and attempted a normal smile. “We’ll do our jobs. We’ll throw the mixers, the dinners. We’ll host the fundraisers together. We’ll do it all. But, under no circumstances will any member of ITZ ever be seen with a member of ATZ.” Not a soul attempted to counteract, not even Ryujin. “ATZ is off limits. No parties. No sex. No posts. Nothing.”

september 3rd ~ tuesday ~ 12:47 p.m.

Mina sat at the end of the dining room table, a book in one hand and a pencil in the other as she scribbled into a notebook while her eyes scanned the text. The title on the leather bound book was illegible, completely worn off by years and years of use. She’s clung to this same book for a year now, she’s been seen with it since she started here, it came with her from home. 

“And I don’t know what the fuck her problem is,” Yuna whispered beside Tori, leaning toward Ryujin sitting across from her. “Ever since we’ve been back she’s been so uptight.”

Mina paid no mind to the whispers happening a few feet from where she studied. The table was long enough to provide ample space for everyone, the sophomore was often found here working her time away. Her brown bob laid effortlessly at her chin, curving a bit outward, showcasing her beauty. 

“She’s already had me run through our plan for the year, like, eighteen fucking times,” Yuna bugged her eyes out of her head and Tori snickered. “She’s driving me nuts!”

Ryujin cocked her head toward you. “You and Aurora could swap complaints.”

“I have nothing to say,” you whispered, shoving a nail between your teeth, keeping your focus on Mina. It was as if she was in the room alone, like she was used to background noise. Lifting a finger to flip a page in her ancient book, she used the same finger to tuck her hair behind her ear, then glanced to her paper to circle something she wrote earlier. 

She spoke when spoken too, but not out of punishment, or fear of. She was study focused, always, you’ve all learned since she was in high school. Her GPA was higher than every being’s at this very table. The girl was a genius, she was quick witted, but not only that, she was kind. 

The chatter ensued around you.

“Well, what does Isla have to say about this?” Tori asked Ryujin, twirling her wavy hair around a finger. There had been plenty of time after the meeting for you all to process what had happened, and to shower. Tori made it a point to blow dry her hair, curl it, and gloss her lips, snapping a selfie in the mirror between your beds to send to Mingi.

Ryujin, with her feet on the chair, shrugged her shoulders. Her shaggy hair hung at her shoulders now. “Fuck if I know,” she said. “She’s been worse than last year. Even this summer, I can’t remember when she wasn’t drunk.”

Yuna furrowed her brows. “Is it still her brother?”

Ryujin shook her head, glancing to her bare knees before she said, “It’s never been about that, they’re close. I mean, he’s far away, we all know that, so… Maybe it is DK.”

“She was the one who chose to go to school here,” Tori said, pursing her lips, leaning onto the table on an elbow. “Maybe she should’ve gone closer to him.”

“She came to Nasara to do something for herself,” Ryujin lowered her chin. “What did she tell you all at recruitment, you all were there with her. She wants to be her own person, not be forced into the ‘I have a famous older brother’ box. Her grades weren’t bad last semester, but she hasn’t had a sober minute since she’s been here. Last night Vernon and I couldn’t keep her on her feet.”

“Vernon plays baseball,” Tori said matter of factly, and Ryujin bobbed her head. “Does he know DK?”

“Everyone knows DK,” Yuna smirked, tapping Tori’s ankle with her sandal. “That's why all the boys can’t leave her alone.”

Tori’s expression pulled into one of worry, her eyes darting between Ryujin and Yuna. “That’s… not good.”

“Vernon usually ends up around her,” Ryujin said. “He’s a safe dude, and a huge help. He doesn’t really drink too much, he’s like Yunho.”

Mina peered up, curiosity in her eyes. You glanced away quickly, looking at your friends.

“Yunho’s a safe guy, too,” Tori nodded, and Yuna agreed. Turning to you, your roommate asked, “You were hanging with him last night?”

Taking a breath, you hummed in response, feeling Mina’s eyes on you. “We were hanging, yeah.”

Tori smiled, then sat back in her seat and glanced toward the sophomore at the end of the table. “Mina, you agree, don’t you?”

The girl blushed in real time, right here in front of you all. The old book found the table, and she smiled. “I wasn’t listening… Sorry. What did you say?”

“Yunho,” Tori said, and Mina smiled wider. “You were so listening, silly.” Yuna laughed, finding it all too cute. “Go ahead, how is he?”

Shifting in her seat, Mina folded her hands over her lap and studied the room, then met eyes with each of you. “He’s very nice,” she said, voice as gentle as snow when it falls. “I’ve never met anyone like him. That probably sounds insanely naive, but it’s the truth.”

“Not naive, I think it’s sweet,” Ryujin said. Yuna and Tori shot her a look and she laughed. “What?”

“Miss big, scary, lesbian, hates men and all relationships thinks it’s sweet!?” Tori’s tone had you all laughing, even Mina.

Ryujin rolled her eyes. “It’s sweet,” she said, shooting Tori a look before she turned back to Mina. “You guys are made for each other, I swear.”

The smile that washed over the sophomore tugged at your heart.

“He came to my house this summer,” she said, eyes full of adoration. “He met my parents, my brothers… We all had dinner together, and then we went out to a park to watch the sunset, and we just… talked.” The four of you were silent watching her relive her summer night in real time. Tori and your friends wore the smallest of smiles, but her words churned your stomach over. “We shared so much with each other,” she nodded, then shook her head, “I trust him. He doesn’t care that I don’t like the parties, or that I don’t drink… He kissed me that night.”

Tori’s gasp threw you all backward, then straight into fits of laughter.

“Fuckin’ Christ!” Yuna shouted, whacking a hand at her arm.

“I’m sorry!” Tori clamped a hand to her neck, throwing her head backward. “It’s so innocent and cute!”

Ryujin almost snorted. “Nothing like you, I fucked him when I met him!”

Reaching across the table, slapping a hand onto the wood, Tori’s eyes went wide, her grin even wider. “I did, you know what? And I have NO shame about it!”

“Yeah, well, hope you fucked him last night ‘casue now there won’t be any of that anymore,” Ryujin crossed her arms. Tori’s face fell. The way she sat backward and looked at her lap made you pop out your lip. Taking a hand to her shoulder she leaned into your touch and shot you her puppy dog eyes.

“Ror, what about you?” she asked, then she blew air out of her glossy lips and blinked. “You’re probably happy with these rules now, aren’t you?” 

Eyeing the girls around the table, everyone curious aside from Mina who turned back toward her work, you took a deep breath and shrugged. “I like ATZ parties,” you nearly whispered. “I really think this is going to suck.” Gesturing toward Yuna and Tori with a nod, you said, “Plus, you two still have to try to work with them, so I don’t understand how any of this is going to work out.”

“Yeji’s insecure,” Ryujin spat. She pointed her dark eyes at you. “But, I do think if you didn’t say what you said… On video… For Wooyoung’s thirty thousand followers to see… We wouldn’t have to deal with this.”

Turning in your chair to face her, you screwed your brows together and cocked your chin. “I’m to blame!?” You tossed a hand toward your friends to your right. “These two were on video, too! I wasn’t making a total fool of myself.”

“Hey,” Tori frowned, nudging your leg with hers. You gave her and Yuna an apology with your eyes, then sighed heavily. “Maybe you should talk to Yeji and sort this out.”

“How?” you rolled your head backward and almost let out a groan. “She’s doing it on purpose. Now that she’s got this power she’s going to control us all, turn us into her little minions. I told Yunho last night that ITZ was gonna turn into Yeji-TZ.”

“Where’d you guys disappear to? I couldn’t find you until you told me you were ready to leave.” Tori met your eyes as you breathed.

“Outside. The noise was nauseating, Wooyoung pissed me off, and I had too much on my mind.” 

Your roommate reached over and smoothed a hand over yours. “Valid,” she said, pulling her lips into a tiny frown.

“She wants a better image for us,” Ryujin said, going over what had been discussed in the meeting this morning. “She wasn’t wrong, we need more girls. I’m a little worried about what recruitment is going to look like this year.” The senior looked at Mina. “We need more girls like that.”

The door to the dining room pushed open with force, the glass windows rattling as it swung into the white wall. Isla, freshly showered, but still staggering on her feet, wandered around the table to Ryujin’s side, where the senior pulled a chair out for her.

“And less like this,” she whispered with a nod toward Isla. “Just watch what you guys say, especially on social media.” Ryujin wrapped an arm around Isla who leaned on her shoulder. “As much as I deliberately hate following rules… It’s Yeji. She’ll do anything to look good. Keep your mouths shut about her and once recruitment is done we’ll be back in ATZ’s basement. I’m sure of it.”

Tori pulled her phone out of her pocket and smiled at a message.

Mingi.

The two weren’t officially dating, but if freshman and sophomore year taught any of you guys anything, it was that Tori and Mingi were exclusively for one another, and that made this new ATZ Off Limits Rule all the more annoying. Yeji knew Tori and Mingi had a thing, Yeji knew that Mina and Yunho were on the start of something. 

The start of something great. The start of something that yanked your heart into the depths of yourself because you were onto the start of something great your sophomore year.

Something great that Yeji swooped into the middle of and messed up.

For weeks he was after you. Teasing you, flirting with you for hours at ATZ parties, challenging you to drinking games, wanting to be paired up with you for fundraisers and events. He made it a point to be the first to send you a text on your birthday, and then to be the first one to post about it. He beat Tori by seven minutes.

You knew he was trouble, he had a reputation. 

Wooyoung was the only member of ATZ to have bad rumors about him circling Nasara’s campus. But, it was the typical shit one would automatically assume. He didn’t call a girl back after they slept together, or he flirted his way into getting a girl to do his homework for him only to sleep with her and never call her again, or how he almost got a professor fired because they allegedly had an affair so his grades would go up.

Everyone is pretty certain that last one is false, but you’ve never heard him publicly deny it.

Either way, you ignored all the red flags he was blatantly waving in your face. Weeks into his games, you fell. Hard. Under the impression that he had fallen too, obviously the reason why he was playing these games with you, you opened yourself up to the idea of him, the idea of being with him, and your heart loved it. Legitimately loved it. Your friends at ITZ were excited for you, and some of the boys you were close with at ATZ were into it too. Though one warned you, Yunho, you took it upon yourself to ignore him.

You could trust Wooyoung. The way he looked at you, the way his hands would linger on you, how he’d shower you with compliments and turn you into a blushing, giggling mess… You could trust him.

Until you couldn’t.

ATZ threw a party the night before Spring Break, just months ago, at the beginning of this year. All of ITZ was in attendance, even Mina, the wide eyed freshman recruit who quickly found comfort at Yunho’s side. It was hours into the night, drinks had gone down too easy, everyone was exhausted and ready for break, and you were about to leave with Tori in hand. Searching for Wooyoung, asking every person you passed if they’d seen him, they shrugged and sent you on your way.

Yunho, sitting on the stairs with Yeosang and Seonghwa, was the one to press his lips together and nod behind him. Dragging Tori along with you, she pinched Yeosang’s cheek on the way up and ruffled his wavy hair. Calling out for Wooyoung, pushing every door on the second floor open, they were all empty, so you trekked up to the third, spinning up another staircase. Tori was babbling on about the fun she and Mingi were having when you pushed Hongjoongs door open at the same time Yeji was yanking it open.

Tori’s laugh of disbelief had never been louder.

Behind Yeji’s devious smirk and trashed composure, Wooyoung stood there shirtless, zipping up his jeans. Unfazed, he had glanced up at the opening of the door and smirked as well. He pulled his shirt over his head and brushed past between you, making a god awful joke about how three girls were after him now, being sure to look down at you with purpose before returning to the party.

The rest of the semester went as expected. Short, sweet, and fast. Or, it was just that you were so focused on ignoring almost everybody that it felt that way. You took your finals, Yeji was appointed future president, and you and Tori packed your room up.

You only attended one ATZ party after the return from Spring Break, one you hovered around Yunho at. The go-to would be Tori, but she and Mingi were attached at the hip, it was impossible to get between them.

“You didn’t tell him what happened did you?” Ryujin looked at Tori’s phone, to which your roommate cringed. “Oh, Tor, come on.” Yuna sighed with the senior.

Tori clicked her tongue and half laughed. “What was I supposed to do? I tell him everything!”

“As disgustingly sweet as that is, you were supposed to not tell him,” Ryujin said, looking your way. “Least not until Aurora fixes this.” The look you gave her made her laugh. “Just go say you’re sorry or something, kiss her ass.”

“Ryujin, I’d rather kiss yours,” you smized, and Isla showed signs of life with a giggle. “Oh, she’s conscious.” Isla picked her head up and flashed you her dazzling smile.

“I am,” she said. “I don’t remember last night.” The four of you swallowed your smiles for her sake and simply voiced your concerns with quiet sounds that got her to giggle again. “Think I’m still drunk or somethin’.” 

Ryujin took the hand of the arm around her roommate and gently laid her head back on her shoulder. “Close your eyes, Jagiya.”

Yuna’s mouth fell open. “Don’t call her that.”

“She’s the only one… who can,” Isla mumbled, slapping a hand against the table, startling Mina who glanced up from her book for all of two seconds. “Stupid ass name,” she muttered, her eyes shut, full thick lashes splayed out on her smooth as silk cheeks. “Stupid famous parents… Naming stupid ass kids… Brother gets Seokmin, now he’s Dokyeom… What do I get?”

“She’s not okay,” you whispered, and Ryujin shook her head. “What can we do?”

Things were quiet for all of eight seconds, until Mina spoke up.

“It could be a good thing,” she said, catching all of your eyes except Isla’s. She blinked and gulped. “The ban.” Her volume dropped exponentially. “The ATZ ban. Even though I know you’ve got…” she gestured to Tori, then herself, “We’ve got… Boys. It gives Isla a break from parties, and gives us more time here, right?” Yuna spared a glance toward the three of you, gauging how you were supposed to react. “We can all help her get back on track. I know a few easy ways to start the process.”

Yuna pursed her lips. “How?”

Mina put down her book. “My mom. She’s been sober for a really long time though, but she’s been open with me and my brothers about her struggle. It’s like a literal gene that can get passed down, so any of us could have it. My two older brothers have a different dad, and he’s a former addict, so they’re doubly careful, but… I think I can work something out to help Isla.” The small smile she gave all of you felt like a sin after what she had just spilled.

Ryujin moved Isla’s hair from her face, the girl's breathing having gotten heavier since she laid down. Giving Mina a smile, she nodded in appreciation. “I think that’d be awesome.”

Mina nibbled her bottom lip, picking her book up. “You’re not as scary as you appear to be.” Laughing with Yuna and Tori, the three of you lost it as Ryujin’s jaw fell open. The sophomore, smug as ever, focused on her notes. 

“Not as scary as I appear to be,” Ryujin repeated in a whisper to herself. “Noted.”

september 3rd ~ tuesday ~ 11:19 p.m.

“I can’t believe he hit thirty thousand followers over the summer,” Tori mumbled from where she was splayed over her bed. Laying on her back, her long brown hair fanned out behind her, she scrolled on her phone, tapping away at the screen. “They go up little by little everyday.”

“You keep checking?” Lifting your eyes from the schedule in your hand you laughed as she shot you a cheesy smile. She rolled to her side, her hair brushing over her bare shoulders. The tank she put on for bed was dark blue and had Nasara and ITZ on the front in white graffiti letters. Half of last year's car wash fundraiser outfit.

“He’s the first out of all of us to hit thirty thousand, Ror,” she said to you like you were out of the loop, like you too weren’t actively watching Wooyoung’s Instagram all summer.

Glancing at your schedule, the many bullet points of assignments and work needing to be done by the end of the semester plaguing you with a knot in your chest, you sighed and shook your head. “Vernon has almost fifty thousand, Tor.”

“He’s a baseball player, Ror,” she narrowed her eyes. “And he’s being scoped out by so many MLB teams right now. He’s only a junior and these managers want to pull him out of school so he can play for them. That’s how good he is.”

You gave her a glance, circling the assignment for an essay in the middle of the second sheet you held onto. “You sure do know a lot about Vernon.”

Tori focused back on her phone and giggled at something. Typing a mile a minute, she tucked her hair behind her ear and adjusted the stud in her nose before looking back up at you. “I just ask questions.” You met her gaze and raised an eyebrow. “Not for social advancement, Aurora, because I care, that’s why.”

A smile pricked at your lips, one that made her whine and tip her head backward. “I’m just saying! All of the guys at ATZ have always had more attention on social media. And, for the record, he’s not the first to hit thirty thousand, Yeji hit thirty thousand followers when she was like, in high school, or something. She’s closer to two hundred thousand.”

Tori flopped onto her back and turned her attention to her phone. “Whatever, I wasn’t counting her. She’s on a whole different level than any of us are.”

“Unfortunately,” you grumbled, flipping through the rest of your schedule.

Tori lifted her head. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. No one has to mean it like that, no matter what it’s gonna hurt.”

Putting her phone down she sat back up and swung her legs over the edge of her bed, the fluffy comforter shifting beneath her. “When are we going to talk about it?”

“Never.”

“Ror, you gotta talk about it,” she said, sliding to her feet. Padding over to your side she sat on your bed and tucked her feet beneath her. She snatched the syllabus from your hands and tossed it to the floor, the pages unraveling, spreading all over the carpet. Ignoring your protests, she grabbed onto your shoulder. “I am not going to spend the rest of this year pretending that last semester didn’t happen. He hurt you.”

Jolting at her words, you turned your glare to ice. “He did not hurt me.”

She pitied you with her eyes. “He led you on… For months. He did things, and said things to you that-”

“That don’t matter!” The cackle that tumbled from your lips had her tilting her head to the side. “The things he said don’t matter, he didn’t mean them! We can drop it! I get it!”

Tori took her hand away from you and folded it in her lap over her smooth tan legs. Nodding, she pursed her lips and looked at your papers on the floor. “Okay,” she breathed, hopping off your bed to clean up the mess she made. Trying to shuffle the papers into some kind of order, she put them in your outstretched hand and crossed her arms over her middle. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter. We’ll find you somebody else, you at least deserve to get laid, it’ll help with this,” she gestured toward you, “Bitchiness.” The word came out of her in an almost whisper.

Pushing a quiet laugh through your lips, you shook your head. “Don’t worry, I-”

A knock from the window behind you, the only window in the room next to your bed, sent you flying to your feet. Heartbeat skyrocketing into the atmosphere, you grabbed onto Tori and whipped yourself around to face the glass while she laughed.

“Who the fuck!?”

“I told him not to knock,” Tori said, calm as can be.

A silly smile watched you both. Dark hair pushed to the side and an earring dangling from one ear, the black, form fitting t-shirt he wore clung to his chest, the silver chain around his neck just meeting the collar. Beautiful honey skin and deep, big brown eyes full of pure, innocent joy.

Mingi.

Turning your chin up to look at Tori who was grinning like a sap, you smacked her arm and pulled her out of her daydream. “What the hell is he doing here?” Shushing you, Tori wiggled herself out of your grasp and leapt onto your bed on her knees. “How the hell did he get up here?!” Shushing you again, Tori maneuvered the window open and crawled out onto the rooftop. “What the hell is going on!” Now it was Tori and Mingi who shushed you.

“Come here,” Tori said, waving you toward her. Looking at your bedroom door, you took a breath and rushed toward it to click the lock into place.

“This is so stupid,” you muttered, climbing onto your bed and out onto the roof of the porch below. Tori and Mingi were sitting closer to the edge. It wasn’t too steep, if anything it was pretty flat, but the ledge was still intimidating. Using your hands and feet you brought yourself closer and stopped beside Tori. “Can someone tell me what is going on?”

“Hi, Rora,” Mingi said to you with a smile, leaning in front of Tori to tap a fist to your arm. His deep, lively voice typically captivated you, but close to the edge of the roof like this you didn’t have much energy to appreciate it.

“Hey, Mingi,” you sighed, digging your fingernails into the shingles underneath you. Tori had her fingers on Mingi’s jewelry, toying with it, not caring she had her feet hanging off the edge of a rooftop.

“These new rules of yours are interesting,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Yeji seems like she’s so much fun.”

“Oh, the funnest,” you half laughed, keeping your body still. “Is that why we’re on the roof right now?”

“Yeah,” Mingi gave you a lazy smile, then answered to Tori who whispered something unintelligible to him. He put a hand on her cheek and nodded his head, his brows furrowing low as he reassured her. Looking back to you, he said, “We wanted to see for ourselves if it was true.” He laid his head over Tori’s and smiled. “Sometimes this one’ll make shit up and I can’t tell if she’s for real or not.”

“Hey!” Your roommate nudged his head away and tapped his solid chest. Mingi looked down at her and laughed, leaning in to press kisses to her cheek. They really were the cutest, both able to match each other in energy and wit. They fit together, they always have. They made sense.

Gulping, glancing away around at the ground, your eyes scanned the green grass. “We?” you asked, feeling your confidence take a slight nosedive. 

Where there was Mingi, there was a-

“Hey!”

Startling both you and Tori, fluffy, dusty brown hair and glasses popped up underneath the edge of the roof. The most endearing sideways smile accompanied his bright eyes.

Where there was a Mingi, there was a Yunho.

Tori, ecstatic, reached a hand out to mess with his hair. “Yo! I didn’t know you were coming with him.”

Whipping your head, your glare made her giggle. “You knew they were coming?” you sneered through your teeth.

“I knew Mingi was coming,” she said, biting down on her bottom lip as she nuzzled her head under his strong chin.

“Wonderful,” you whispered, turning your focus back to the boy hanging off the roof. Behind his glasses he studied you. His eyes were as dark as Mingi’s, but not as dark as Wooyoung’s. Yunho’s had life, stories to tell, and they were sweeter than chocolate.

“Hi, Rory,” he said quietly, adjusting himself so that his broad shoulders were in sight. Wearing a t-shirt himself, it didn’t quite cling to him like Mingi’s, but it still definitely caught your eye.

“Hi, Yunho,” you breathed, ignoring the smirk that started to grow on his lips courtesy of your wandering gaze. Narrowing your eyes just slightly, he wiped the smug look in an instant. “What are you doing on my roof?”

“Came to say hi,” he said, elbows spreading out to the side to keep his balance. By now Tori and Mingi were lost in their own little kisses and whispers to care what you and Yunho were discussing.

“Cute.” You tilted your head and held eye contact with him for another few seconds until you had to break away. He was intense. A certified genius with a mind so deep you’d need centuries to figure him out. He was on a different level of the world, he always was, and he always has been, ever since you met him. 

Almost like Mina.

Pure, sweet, kindhearted Mina.

“We were talking about you today,” you said and laughed internally as his expression wilded out. “Me and my girls.” He wore his wide eyes with pride, the expression never changing until you said, “With Mina.” Then, he shifted into a display of softness, like the mention of her name cured everything wrong within him.

“How is she?” he asked, his melodic voice as gentle as the lashes that brushed his skin.

Sliding your hands over your ankles you held his focus and nodded. “She’s great,” you whispered, and he released a breath. “She’s disappointed with the new rule, of course, she can’t see you anymore.” Yunho clenched his jaw. “We heard about your amazing summer, Yo, you’re a proper gentleman, you know that?” 

“Oh my god!” Tori exclaimed, reaching a hand over to grab onto one of Yunho’s wrists. The wide eyed boy snapped his neck to look at her, escaping your scrutiny. “You’re the cutest, ever! Spending time with Mina’s family? Treating her so good? Yo, you win. This year, at least.” Tori, with a gasp, whirled back to her boyfriend. “We have to do the Sweethearts Formal. It’s official.”

Mingi smiled, brushing a few fingers over Tori’s hair. “Whatever you want, babe, you tell me what to do.”

“We’ll do it after recruitment,” Tori spoke with her hands, gesturing toward every single one of you at some point, “That way we’ll have more guests, but we can open it up to the entire campus.” Mingi’s eyes lit up watching her speak. “Pay an entry fee, experience Greek life for a night, and we’ll make it spectacular, then they’ll be interested and want to join.”

Mingi threw an arm around her back and pulled her close, pressing a hefty kiss to her lips. “My girl’s a genius,” he sighed when they parted, sending a glance over her shoulder toward you and Yunho. He lingered on his friend for a few seconds longer.

“We’ll have ITZ and ATZ there,” Tori said. “Everyone has to have a date.” Grazing Mingi’s chin with her thumb she smized. “You are mine,” she glanced behind her, “Yo can bring Mina.” Then, she faced you. “We’ll find you a date,” she bobbed her head. “Don’t worry.”

Squinting at her, you mumbled, “I wasn’t worried,” and Yunho huffed a laugh.

Tori turned to Mingi, their noses nearly touching. “What about Seonghwa, isn’t he available?”

Yunho cleared his throat. “He met someone at the end of last semester, pretty sure he’s taken.”

“And I’d love to not be in cahoots with the Vice President,” you said.

Tori frowned. Mingi eyed his friend. “Damn, okay, well what about Yeosang?”

“I dunno if he’ll be into it,” Yunho curled his lip and Tori sighed audibly.

“You’re not making this easy, Yo,” she said. “We may as well just pair you with Wooyoung, Ror.”

You met Yunho’s eyes in a flash, the two of you looking away from one another just as fast. “No thanks,” you said. 

Tori pouted, her bottom lip poking out. Lifting a hand she messed with your hair and said, “We’ll figure something out.”

The air went quiet. A sickness started to settle into your gut. With the happy couple beside you and Yunho in front of you, nothing about right now would make it go away.

“I need some water,” you mumbled, using your hands and your feet to scoot backward toward your open window. All three of your friends followed you with their gazes, two heads turning while another watched with the tiniest frown.

“Will you come back?” Tori asked, hope written on her face.

Swinging your legs into the window, feet planted on your blankets, you shook your head. “Nah, I have to get ready for bed.”

“Okay,” Tori smiled.

“Night, Rora,” Mingi said, giving you one of his infamous silly grins. With a wave toward him you smiled, then glanced at Yunho. You didn’t want to decipher what he was telling you with the worry in his brows.

You slipped onto your bed without a second thought and hopped to the floor, hurrying for the door without a look back.

Shutting it with ease so as to not wake the entire house, your bare feet took you down the grand staircase into the dimly lit first floor. Eerie at night, the usual creaks didn’t spook you, your mind was too occupied with thoughts of the boy dangling off your roof. 

The nice boy, the good boy, Yunho.

The one you’ve been close with since you joined ITZ and he was being recruited into ATZ. Freshman year you had one class together, a mandatory Literature class he blew through with shining colors and outstanding marks. You’d meet up to do homework, to share notes, to practice readings with one another. Yunho quickly became a close friend, and Greek life only brought you closer.

He’s a genuine person, he always kept his word, sometimes annoyingly so. At parties he’d be the one to stay sober, or the one to only drink a little to help keep the peace. He was ATZ’s Secretary, it was his duty.

But, when Hongjoong, their president, told him he could let go and enjoy himself on certain nights, boy did he let go and enjoy himself.

Turning the corner at the bottom of the stairs you tiptoed toward the kitchen, surprised to find the light above the sink on. Every other light was out, and Mina was sitting on the edge of the island counter. You thanked your lucky stars that your bedroom was on the other side of the house, otherwise she’d have seen the boys sneaking up.

Her back was to you. Wearing silky pink pajamas, a tank and shorts, she sat with perfect posture and a little bowl of ice cream at her side. The slight wave in her short hair told you she had washed it, letting it air dry in place. Imperfectly.

It almost felt wrong to see her in such a state. But, that wasn’t why your stomach churned.

“Hey, Mina,” you said gently, hoping not to scare her. Turning the slightest bit, her bare face gave you a smile. She was so naturally beautiful. “Don’t mean to intrude.” Rounding the island made of old, green chipped painted wood and marble tops, she took a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth and slid you the bowl.

“Have some,” she said, taking her fingers to the hem of her shorts. The ballerina painted tips caught your eye. Every detail so put together, so meticulous and strategic, but in the purest way possible.

Looking down at the white ceramic full of a scoop of vanilla ice cream, you breathed a laugh. Sensing your hesitancy, Mina took the end of the spoon and put a bit of the desert on it, holding it up to feed it to you. She moved with intent, always. A type of sincerity you’ve yet to experience until you met her.

“My mom would share a scoop of ice cream with me and my brothers before bed almost every single night,” she said. With that, you took the spoon and let the sweet vanilla kiss your tongue. “It was our thing, the five of us.” You listened to her talk, admiring how comfortable she felt to be able to share these family things with you. “My dad, he would be so funny,” her small laugh made you smile, “He’d act surprised every time, like he wasn’t catching us doing it every night.”

Giving her the spoon, she took it and made herself a scoop, popping it between her lips without care that you’d just eaten from it.

“Do you do this every night?” you asked, propping your chin in your hand. Mina licked her lips that always seemed to rest in a smile, and nodded.

“You’re the first to catch me,” she said, moving her foot to tap your thigh with her toes. Sharing in a quiet laugh with her, you took the spoon as she handed it to you. “Have some more, it feels weird to eat it alone.”

“Okay,” you whispered, taking a spoonful, “But only ‘cause you said so.” Mina folded her hands and her feet together, letting them swing off the edge, her legs polished and smooth like the rest of her. After a bite you looked up at her and asked, “Do you miss them? Your family?”

She thought to herself for a moment and shifted her focus to her manicure. “When I’m here I do.” Looking at you, she blinked a few times. “That’s why I wanted to join a sorority. When you live in a house barely big enough for all of the people inside of it, moving to a giant campus where you know nobody is scary.”

“Valid,” you whispered, giving her the spoon so she could take her turn.

“It was the six of us, always,” she continued, scooping away at the ice cream. “With the occasional Uncle, or my older brothers’ dad, or their cousins… The house was always… full. I loved it. Me and Wonwoo, you know, even though these people weren’t our blood relatives, we loved them. They were family.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I think I was looking for that when I joined here. To live under one roof with you girls. I didn’t get to grow up with sisters. It’s nice to have so many of you around.”

Putting the spoon down, unsure of who’s turn it was, you gave her a look and half a smile. “I love your life,” you said, and a lump began to form in your throat. “You’re… real.” Mina, flustered, looked down at the floor. “I’m serious,” you giggled. “Most of these girls here come from money, or they’ve got fans on Instagram, and some only care about scamming their way to the top and being the best… But, you’re here ‘cause you want to do better for yourself.”

Mina adjusted her posture. “I do,” she whispered. “My dad went here, he graduated from here. I want to do what he did, I want to be what he is.”

“He sounds like a good man,” you said ever so quietly and her face lit up.

“He’s incredible,” she whispered. Taking her hand to her lips, she held back a laugh.

“What?” you questioned, smiling with her.

Shaking her head she let the giggle loose. “You don’t wanna know what I thought of… What I have been thinking of.”

With that sort of laugh, you knew exactly what she was thinking of.

“Tell me,” you tried to maintain your smile. 

Pressing her lips together, her giddy grin had an innocent, childlike feel to it. A school girl with a crush. 

“He reminds me of him, a little,” she said, her fingers nervously playing with the hem of her silky shorts once more. “Yunho,” she whispered, nodding. “And I know it could be weird to say he reminds me of my dad, but I think… I think every girl looks for that, doesn’t she?”

Taking in what she’s said, you hummed, then gave your shoulders a shake. “I’m my dads only daughter. His only child. I’m pretty sure he wanted me to be a boy, and it’s shown my entire life.” Mina pouted. “Oh, no, I don’t want sympathy. Please, don’t.” Grabbing onto the spoon you messed with the melted ice cream in the bowl, eyes focused on it. 

“Okay,” Mina said. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”

You huffed a laugh, letting go of the spoon, the rattling of the ceramic sending a jolt down both your spines. “You come from a family that does that, talks about it. I don’t.” Meeting her eyes, you longed to shy away from this conversation. “I’ll be okay.”

She nodded, averting her gaze elsewhere. It was quiet for a few seconds, then she asked, “Can I ask you something?”

Taking a deep breath, you let it out more harshly than anticipated. “Of course,” you said. Maybe talking about your family would be easy with Mina. Dissecting your childhood or the way you were raised was reserved for therapy, somewhere you hadn’t been since high school. You weren’t a fan, you had no intentions of going back. Mina made it seem easy though, it could be possible this was all you needed. A listening ear. She was nice enough.

“You were with Yunho at the party last night,” she said, sending your entire nervous system into fight or flight. Maintaining face, praying to God you didn’t react, you simply bobbed your head in answer.

You were with Yunho at the party last night. Yunho was the first person you attached yourself to last night. Yunho was the only one looking for you last night. Yunho was the one you stepped outside with last night, because the noise was nauseating, Wooyoung pissed you off, and you had too much on your mind.

“I didn’t want to ask earlier because everyone was around, and I’m not sure I need them all to know my business right now, especially when this Yunho thing is still… up in the air,” she babbled on and on. “It’s just that… We had such an amazing summer.”

You had a somewhat amazing summer, too.

“We went on so many dates, he took me everywhere I wanted to go,” she sighed between thoughts. “He had a great time with my family, my brothers, he understood us, how we were. He… kissed me.” Your heart skipped a beat. She blushed when she looked at you, and you wanted to crawl into a hole. “He didn’t push me farther than I wanted to go. He was respectful.”

Breath was caught in your throat.

“I thought it was too good to be true,” she laughed, kicking her feet. “You know frat boys, the stereotype they’re forced into. Sleazy, sneaky… Not him. Not Yunho.”

Yes, him.

Yes, Yunho.

She still had a question to ask you.

“Then, what’s up?” Trying your utmost hardest to keep your voice from shaking, you smiled at her when she looked over at you.

“He hasn’t… reached out,” she said. “Since we were preparing to come back, and since we’ve been back… I’ve barely heard from him.” Her brown eyes were shining in the single overhead light. “I guess I just wanted to ask you if he was okay? In the video’s… I saw you with him, so I just wanted to see if you knew anything.”

Swallowing hard, you gave her a shrug of your shoulders, feeling the walls of the kitchen tighten around the two of you. “I don’t… I dunno. He seemed okay to me. I’m sorry, Mina.”

She looked at the floor. “It’s okay,” she said. “Just figured I’d ask.”

“Give him time,” you said quickly, sliding out a hand to touch her wrist. “Maybe coming back has just been a lot, they’re going through the same stuff we are. We need recruitment to go well, for everybody.”

With the smallest smile Mina glanced at you. “You’re right. Thank you.”

And as the nerves roiled in your belly, you released her wrist and gave her your best smile. “Anytime.”

NU home ✧ nice for what masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ thank you for reading <3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[lizardkingeliot]

The thing is tho... okay.

Here's the thing.

AMC’s Interview with the Vampire has so effectively driven home the point that Lestat loves Louis without condition and will continue loving him to the same degree forever regardless of the passage of time and regardless of what Louis has done that sometimes it's easy to forget that, like... Louis doesn't actually know that. Sometimes I'm really just like what do you MEAN Louis de Pointe du Lac doesn't know he's Lestat de Lioncourt's heartbeat now and forever Louis de Pointe du Lac do you even watch the SHOW.

Anyway. I don't know what I'm trying to say here but I think it's something about the romantic angst of it all. The way Lestat is going to be forced to betray Claudia and Louis in Paris during the trial leaving Louis with the belief that Lestat doesn't want him. He will view this as a rejection and this is the reason why he is going to spend the next 77 years of his life with Armand. This is why he couldn't just reach out to Lestat post-Paris and try to work things out. I’m not saying anything new here, I know. Most of us have worked this out already. It took me a while to get there yesterday when I was digesting the episode because, like I said, Lestat’s love is so obvious it’s easy to forget Louis really doesn’t know. But listen….

Louis is deeply unwell in 1973 San Francisco. When Lestat asks him why he’s ill all I can think right now is… well. Because he doesn’t have you. Even before he walked into the sun he was ill because he doesn’t have you. Ill in New Orleans after the deed was done. Ill in Paris and sustaining himself with memories so vivid it was like Lestat was there in the room. Ill in San Francisco when Armand could have ended it all by relaying Lestat's words to Louis, and didn't. Ill in Dubai searching the well of memory trying to find his way back to something like sanity again...

But listen. Sam Reid said Lestat very much thinks Louis is dead after 1973. This tracks. It fits very neatly with the ~theme. With what this season is trying to do wrt the romantic angst of it all. Maybe Lestat is still locked up in a dungeon or underground somewhere sleeping, maybe he isn't. Maybe he's rotting away in New Orleans, wrecked with grief, thinking about walking out and greeting the sun every morning when it rises and he's reminded Louis is gone. I guess we'll find out soon enough…

But listen. There's not some great conclusion I'm trying to arrive at with this post. I'm just spinning my wheels thinking about how delicious the tropes on this show truly are. To separate a love like that, to have Louis believe Lestat doesn't want him and have Lestat believe that Louis is dead. Well, friends... that sounds like a recipe for a grand reunion to me. And maybe what I'm trying to do with this post is toss another coin in the wishing well of a potential season 3. Because you can't have a love story like this that is destined to end in a reunion only to come back the next season to pretend it doesn't matter. I don't know. Maybe you can. But I really hope they don't. I really hope when they come back together at the end of this nightmare, when Lestat is finally permitted to have a voice of his own, that voice will be echoing through the halls of their home, because he'll be telling his story to Louis.

[mclennonlgbt]

Paris in John and Paul’s life

30th September 1961:

“John and I went on a trip for his twenty-first birthday. John was from a very middle-class family, which really impressed me because everyone else was from working-class families. To us John was upper class. His relatives were teachers, dentists, even someone up in Edinburgh in the BBC. It’s ironic, he was always very ‘fuck you!’ and he wrote the song ‘Working Class Hero’ – in fact, he wasn’t at all working class. Anyway, one of John’s relatives gave him £100 for his birthday. A hundred smackers in your hand! That was a real windfall. None of us could believe it. To this day if you gave me £100 I would be impressed. And I was his mate, enough said? ‘Let’s go on holiday.’ – ‘You mean me too? With the hundred quid? Great! I’m part of this windfall.’” - Paul McCartney, Anthology

“We planned to hitchhike to Spain. I had done a spot of hitchhiking with George and we knew you had to have a gimmick; we had been turned down so often and we’d seen that guys that had a gimmick (like a Union Jack round them) had always got the lifts. So I said to John, ‘Let’s get a couple of bowler hats.’ It was showbiz creeping in. We still had our leather jackets and drainpipes – we were too proud of them not to wear them, in case we met a girl; and if we did meet a girl, off would come the bowlers. But for lifts we would put the bowlers on. Two guys in bowler hats – a lorry would stop! Sense of Humour. This, and the train, is how we got to Paris." - Paul McCartney, Anthology

“And Paul and I also did the same thing, once. We just cancelled. We’d made it, in Liverpool. We were making good money, for those days. I can’t remember what it was – maybe a couple of hundred dollars a week – but enough that you’d have a little extra. You’d have it in your back pocket. And Paul and I just— A relative of mine gave me a hundred pounds, for my birthday, which I’d never seen that much money in me life. Paul and I just canceled all the engagements, and left for Paris… And George was furious, because he needed the money – to work, you know. But that was another time when the group was in debate as whether it would exist or not.”  - John Lennon, 1976, an interview with Elliot Mintz

“Last night I heard that John and Paul have gone to Paris to play together – in other words, the band has broken up! It sounds mad to me, I don’t believe it…” - Stuart Sutcliffe, Anthology

"They were brothers. They were the Nerk Twins, and now they were taking a break from the Beatles and going off to Spain. En route, they’d stop a day or two in Paris, to size up the Brigittes, check out the kind of clothes Jurgen Vollmer wore, and perhaps see Jurgen himself, if he was around. [Johnny] Gustafson happened to bump into them the day they left, Saturday 30 September. “They both had bowler hats on, with the usual leather jackets and jeans. They said they were off to Paris, so I walked down to Lime Street station with them and watched them go. They were an incredible pair: always great fun, irreverent, and so close.” - Mark Lewisohn, All These Years: Volume One

“We’d never been there before. We were a bit tired so we checked into a little hotel for the night, intending to go off hitchhiking the next morning. Of course, it was too nice a bed after having hitched so we said, ‘We’ll stay a little longer,’ then we thought, ‘God, Spain is a long way, and we’d have to work to get down there.’ We ended up staying the week in Paris – John was funding it all with his hundred quid.

We would walk miles from our hotel; you do in Paris. We’d go to a place near the Avenue des Anglais and we’d sit in the bars, looking good. I still have some classic photos from there. Linda loves one where I am sitting in a gendarme’s mac as a cape and John has got his glasses on askew and his trousers down revealing a bit of Y-front. The photographs are so beautiful, we’re really hamming it up. We’re looking at the camera like, ‘Hey, we are artsy guys, in a café: this is us in Paris,’ and we felt like that.

We went up to Montmartre because of all the artists, and the Folies Bergères, and we saw guys walking around in short leather jackets and very wide pantaloons. Talk about fashion! This was going to kill them when we got back. This was totally happening. They were tight to the knee and then they flared out; they must have been about fifty inches around the bottom and our drainpipe trousers were something like fifteen or sixteen inches. We saw these trousers and said, ‘Excusez-moi, Monsieur, où did you get them?’ It was a cheap little rack down the street so we bought a pair each, went back to the hotel, put them on, went out on the street – and we couldn’t handle it: ‘Do your feet feel like they are flapping? Feel more comfortable in me drainies, don’t you?’ So it was back to the hotel at a run, needle and cotton out and we took them in to a nice sixteen with which we were quite happy. And then we met Jürgen Vollmer on the street. He was still taking pictures." - Paul McCartney, Anthology

“Jürgen had a flattened-down hairstyle with a fringe in the front, which we rather took to. We went over to his place and there and then he cut – hacked would be a better word – our hair into the same style.” - John Lennon, 1963

Interviewer: I heard you took a trip to Spain before once, didn’t you? On Holiday? Paul: I didn’t go to Spain, no. I tried once to make Spain but… and John and I were gonna hitchhike. We hitchhiked down from Liverpool… We didn’t hitchhike. No, we got the train down from Liverpool ‘cause we thought we won’t hitchhike down the first bit. And we got the boat over to Paris. Then we got the train into Paris ‘cause we thought: “Well, it’ll be too hard to get a hitch here”. And we just stayed in Paris all week. And eventually… I mean, all the time trying to get out of Paris and make Spain! We never made it, we just flew home at the end. What a lazy hitchhiking Holiday!

“The thing was all the kissing and holding that was going on in Paris. And it was so romantic just to be there and see them even though I was 21 and sort of not romantic. But I really loved it, the way the people would just stand under a tree kissing. And they weren’t not mauling at each other, they were just kissing.” - John Lennon

"John’s 21st birthday was a month away, and he knew he was getting money — 100 pounds cash, more than he or Paul had ever seen in their lives. (…) Bob Wooler was party to their planning, and fought with them:

They were bored, and decided they would go away for a month. I thought this was disastrous because they would be away from the scene too long and lose their fans, Fans were very capricious: they moved from one group to another. And anyway, what about the other two members, George Harrison and Pete Best?. What about them, what do they do? We argued a lot about this — we argued in the back room of the grapes pub to a large extent —- and they said ‘Well, we’ll go away for a fortnight only’

(…) Equally, the promoters who paid the Beatles over-the-odds to present them every week had to “lump it” (….). To a man, and woman, they were incensed by it - but John and Paul hadn’t a care. They didn’t mean to be rude about it but basically it was tough shit.

it was tough too on Dot and Cyn, Dot simply had to accept the situation, but Cyn had a greater case of grievance. John was heading off without her when he could so easily gave waited for the art school holidays. (…).

That John was taking Paul, no one else, accentuates the renewed closeness since Stu quit The Beatles. They were the Beatles force, an unstoppable and authentically powerful pair. “Lennon had the attitude”, Wooler said, “and taking his lead from Lennon, McCartney could be similar. At times they reminded me of those well-to-do Chicago lads Leopold and Loeb, who killed someone because they felt superior to him. Lennon and McCartney were superior human beings”

"You’d always see them together, in the pub or walking along the street", says Johnny Gustafson of the Big Tree. "They were a duo, and seemed each other’s equal". Bernie Boyle, the young lad hanging around with them at every opportunity, says, "They were like brothers, with John as the elder and Paul’s mentor. They were so tight it was like there was a telepathy between them: on stage, they’d look at each other and know instinctively what the other was thinking"

They were brothers. They were the Nerk Twins, and now they were taking a break from The Beatles and gofin off to Spain. 

Gustafson happened to bump into them the day they left, Saturday, September 30. “They both had bowler hats on, with the usual leather jackets and jeans. They said they were off to Paris, so I walked down to Lime Street station and watched them go. They were an incredible pair: always great fun, irreverent and so close. - Mark Lewisohn, Tune In: The Beatles: All These Years (2013)

As was written in this post: That last picture is one Paul took of John sleeping in Paris. From what I remember of a performance he did of ‘Here Today’, and earlier comments, this picture hangs framed on a wall in Paul’s house.

Unconfirmed quote (may or may not be true): 

"He must have been fond of me to spend that money. He let me have all the banana milkshakes I wanted.”  - Paul McCartney

In January 1964, only a few scant weeks before the Beatles took America by storm, the band mates settled in for an extended stay in Paris. For the group, the Parisian visit proved to be a magical experience, with the Beatles playing 18 shows at the Olympia Theatre between Jan. 16 and Feb. 4 (source).

The Beatles were staying at the George V Hotel at the time. John and Paul composed "Can't Buy Me Love", "I Should Have Known Better" and "If I Fell" on the piano.

The photo Paul took of John (in the "Eyes Of The Storm" book):

1966: Paul, his girlfriend Maggie McGivern, John and Brian Epstein spend 5 days in Paris. "All of them flew into France separately — Lennon had been filming abroad and Epstein had been away on business. Maggie and Paul, she says, traveled apart ‘as part of keeping the relationship secret’. During the five-day trip the foursome stayed at the same Paris hotel where she and Paul shared a luxury suite. ‘It was a marvelous holiday,’ she says. ‘. . . just walking around the streets of Paris.‘My abiding memory is of me, John and Paul lying under the Eiffel Tower, gazing up at it. We couldn’t go up because we would have been recognised, and we were masters at the art of avoiding people." [x]

1969:

Hoping to get married in France, John Lennon and Yoko Ono flew to Paris on this day [16th March].

The couple had decided to marry on 14 March 1969, two days after the wedding of Paul McCartney to Linda Eastman; whether it was in response to this event on some level is open to conjecture.

On McCartney’s wedding day Lennon and Ono were travelling to Poole in Dorset, where he introduced her to his Aunt Mimi. During the journey he asked his chauffeur Les Anthony to go to Southampton to enquire about the possibility of the wedding being held at sea, on the cross-channel ferry to France.

(source)

“On March 12, Paul married Linda Eastman at Marylebone Register Office in London, amid scenes of hysterical grief from his female fans. None of the other Beatles was present. The news reached John as he and Yoko were driving down to visit Aunt Mimi in Poole. Yoko’s divorce decree had become final a few weeks earlier, and, in a resurgence of Beatle copycat, John told her they, too, must get married as soon as possible” - Philip Norman, John Lennon: The Life (2008)

"We chose Gibraltar because it is quiet, British and friendly. We tried everywhere else first. I set out to get married on the car ferry and we would have arrived in France married, but they wouldn’t do it. We were no more successful with cruise ships. We tried embassies, but three weeks’ residence in Germany or two weeks’ in France were required." - John Lennon

1974:

“After a late lunch, Linda launched into a long paean to the joys of living in England. When she was finished, she turned to John and said, “Don’t you miss England?”

“Frankly,” John replied, “I miss Paris.””

— May Pang, Loving John (1983)

1978:

Wings album "London Town" is released. It includes the song "Cafe on the Left Bank", the lyrics of which clearly refer to John and Paul's trip to Paris.

Late 1970s (maybe 1978?): John is singing to Paul about Paris in a home recording. Longer version

1970s: John writes "Skywriting by Word of Mouth", a book that would be released in 1986. One story is about sex he had with a woman in Paris. Here it is. As anon noticed here: "...the woman is called Amie L'Nitrate and Amyl Nitrate is a reference to poppers. He talks about grabbing her 'pomme de frites.' Her potatoes? He uses the term 'tread lightly on some loafers' which is an old euphenism for being gay. Amie says they should have sex to God Only Knows. Then John says their relationship ended in a seething rage but he still thinks of 'her.'" @sgtsaltsband concluded in the same post: "so he writes a story about PARIS ( where he and paul went on a trip for his 21st bday and never stopped talking about it ) , in the HOTEL where the Beatles stayed later on [Hotel V in 1964] , names the girl after POPPERS ( a drug commonly used by gay men during sex ) , the girl wants to have sex to PAULS fave song and he uses this PHRASE." Also: this is an excerpt of the story:

"Boogie" is a slang word for sex or dance (also, "Born to Boogie" is a 1972 movie starring Marc Bolan, Elton John and Ringo Starr). "Band on the Run" is a Paul McCartney and Wings' album which John loved. "Sue you sue me" can be a reference to to the Beatles' legal and business disputes and the fact that Paul sued John, George and Ringo in December 1970, and to "Sue Me, Sue You Blues", a song by George.

(thank you @menlove for uploading the story and pointing out interesting words!)

1994 - Paul inducting John to Rock and Roll Hall of Fame:

“And then on your 21st birthday you got £100 off one of your rich relatives up in Edinburgh, so we decided we’d go to Spain. So we hitch-hiked out of Liverpool. And we got as far as Paris, and decided to stop there for a week. And eventually got our haircut, by a fellow named Jürgen, and that ended up being the ‘Beatle haircut’.”

I also remember watching an interview with Paul about his album "Memory Almost Full" (2007). Thank you for adding, @ringompreg!

(it's like 7 minutes in) Interviewer: There is a very beautiful song called "The End Of The End", the way you talk about your whole ending, and the lyric goes: "It's a start of a journey to a much better place." You mean, better than England? Paul: It's basically a start of a journey to France. Or Spain through France. Yeah, that's what it is. It's a much better place, Paris.

Also worth mentoning:

"All You Need Is Love" begins with La Marseillaise.

"Picasso's Last Words (Drink To Me)" contains French-language speech by BBC broadcaster Pierre Le Sève.

Bonus

[victorbutnotreally]

OMG I'M FINALLY FINDING A BLOG WHICH IS MY CUP OF TEA. YOU'RE AWESOMEEEEE

i have an idea but i can't write for shit, so i'll give it to my favorite tumblr writer (which is youuu)

smau where han messages the wrong number and it's some guy from like another country. and they become friends and then han comes to find out that his text pal is actually a celeb he fanboys over.

(bonus points if mn knows han as well)

OMG

A/N: Love that!! Thank you sm for requesting <3 (I can't title things for the life of me, so you can ask for a different title in the replies and I'll change it) French music makes writing so much more fun. warnings: slight swearing blue {} - han purple {} - Mn

{Oh. How nice of this person to wish me a good practice session.

"Is he getting here anytime soon?" Minho's voice echoed through the practice room.

"I'll ask!"

When he opened his phone again to change the number, he saw a familiar figure in the random person's profile picture. Mn Ln. Finally, someone who he can rant about the Mn Ln. }

{ Great. Got my hopes up for nothing }

{ Naturally, Mn wouldn't want his personal number leaked. So he lied. He was surprised at how smooth that was, but hey, it's text. He wanted to know more, though. Is that narcissistic?

He set his coffee mug down on his nightstand and looked a lot more like a contortionist as he continued to text, the risk of spilling coffee being gone now. }

{ Being called the best vocalist ever was certainly not something he expected. He was great, sure, but the best? Not when Freddie Mercury has music out there. But he'll take that compliment.

He was impressed at the fan. 'Achilles, my love" was one of his more niche songs, having been written when he was only 15 when he got completely shattered after reading 'The Song of Achilles' and decided to pour his heart and soul into a song which he released years later.}

{They don't know Mn yet, but who wouldn't like him after listening to Achilles my love? The way Jisung made the members listen to Mn's music was like a little kid making their parents watch Frozen. But the members never complained, the music was really good. Would they roll their eyes when Jisung keeps sending Mn memes into the groupchat? Sure. Did they have certain parts of certain songs memorized because Jisung kept watching his edits on repeat? Oh yes. }

{Mn didn't want his identity leaked. He had to think of a name quick. Chris, as in Bang Chan from Stray Kids was what came to mind. }

At the Paris Fashion Week

{Jisung found a spot away from the cameras and was texting 'Chris'. After a few months of them being 'text pals', he was pretty fond of the random citizen. But despite the sheer amount of songs, pictures, and videos he's sent of Mn, 'Chris' was never as obsessed with him as Jisung was.}

{Holding a glass of champagne in his hand and dearly missing his coffee, Mn who was decked head to toe in Hermes, makes his way over to the figure he recognized as Han Jisung of Stray Kids. How he loved that band. He was listening to Han's song 'Volcano' on the way there. As he goes to talk to him, his eyes caught onto the rapper's phone screen. And by instinct, he accidentally read a few texts. Texts that were from him. He wanted to tell Jisung, but how?}

"Hi! Huge fan, Jisung.." Jisung's eyes widened as he shoved his phone into his pocket and extended his hand for a handshake. It was his first time seeing his favorite singer in real life.

"Oh my god...you..sorry, I'm just flustered all of a sudden. I'm your biggest fan, really."

"I appreciate it. We should collab someday." "Yes!!" Was that too loud? No, right?

Mn was endeared by the enthusiasm. He pulled out his phone from his pocket and unlocked it.

"Care for a selfie?"

"I'd love to.." Jisung tried keeping his voice from sounding too loud and excited as he smiled beautifully in the selfie he took with the singer. He took one on his phone as well, along with a photo of just Mn, not being able to resist the opportunity.

A/N: I'm ending so abruptly since I have really bad writer's block rn and I didn't even know how I posted this much. If you have any ideas on how Jisung finds out he's been texting Mn all this time, then let me know in the replies or send a DM.

[perfectsunlight]

[02] ARE YOU PROUD OF ME?

warnings: none

the soft makeup sponge gently tapped against jennie’s skin. her eyes remained shut, doing her best to stay awake at this hour of the morning. two other stylists worked on her hair while the makeup artist shuffled around her face, applying the final touches before her own busy day began.

vogue photoshoot at noon, elle interview at 3:00, and then her flight to paris at 6:00.

she mentally went over her itinerary for the day, her mind focused on the professional obligations ahead, each task meticulously planned to maintain her public persona. despite the flurry of activity around her, jennie's thoughts kept returning to the great idea of her simply canceling on everyone and spending her entire day in bed with her dogs.

the soft hum of the television in the background barely registered for her until she heard a sound she’d never imagined hearing from a tv. 

“i’m ivory!”

her eyes snapped open just in time to see her daughter’s face flash across the screen through the reflection in the vanity mirror in front of her. 

the makeup artist paused, sensing the shift in jennie's demeanor, but said nothing, allowing her a moment of privacy amidst the bustling preparation. 

jane ivory. my ivory.

jennie whispered her daughter’s name over and over again in her mind. it was only a few seconds of an advertisement for their group’s debut, but all she could do was replay the moments of ivory’s face in her mind. as the segment on le sserafim ended, her emotions swirled—a mixture of pride, regret, and an overwhelming sense of loss. 

her daughter’s radiant smile on the screen pierced through the layers of professional composure that jennie kim had carefully cultivated over the years. she blinked back tears, unable to tear her gaze away from the mirror in front of her.

the little girl she left behind was now an adult. 

“did something get in your eye?” her makeup artist asked gently, trying not to dig too deep into the idols emotions.

she took a deep breath, trying to compose herself as she wrestled with the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. the makeup artist's gentle inquiry broke through the silence, but jennie couldn't bring herself to respond immediately.

“just a moment,” she managed to say, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. she reached for a tissue, dabbing at her eyes discreetly as she fought to regain her composure. the weight of years of absence bore down on her shoulders, a burden she had carried silently for too long.

as she looked at her own reflection, the woman saw traces of the person she had become—a successful idol, a fashion icon, and a global star. 

but beneath the carefully curated image lay the ache of a mother who had missed out on so much. 

the television continued to play in the background, the sound of a local pizza ad replacing the sweet tone of her daughter’s voice just moments ago. jennie closed her eyes briefly, willing herself to stay strong. she had grown accustomed to wearing masks—both on stage and in her personal life—but at this moment, those masks threatened to crumble.

“it was just an eyelash,” she finally replied, her voice steadier as she met the makeup artist's gaze. “please continue.” with a subtle nod, she signaled for the preparations to continue, silently resolving to confront the emotions that had been stirred awake.

throughout the rest of the day—through the photoshoot, the interviews, and the flight to paris—jennie couldn't shake the memory of her baby girl’s smile. the emptiness of the private cabin offered her a rare moment of solitude, where she allowed herself to feel the weight of regret and longing.

she scrolled through her jane’s debut photos, her heart aching with a mixture of pride and sorrow as she scrolled through ivory's debut photos on her phone. each image captured her daughter's radiant presence, the same smile jennie had seen earlier on the screen. tears blurred her vision as she traced the familiar contours of the young girl’s face with her fingertip.

alone with her thoughts and the distant city lights below, jennie wept for the daughter she had been absent from, and for the years lost to ambition and fame. 

previous | masterlist | next

TAGLIST ⸺ ✶ @silantryoo

OPEN! COMMENT BELOW THE MASTERLIST TO BE ADDED.

[lenoraah]

𝙥𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨

pairing - dad!oscar piastri x mom!reader

summary - when Oscar and reader decides to bring their daughters to a race, they become the princess of the paddock

a/n - this will be aged up obviously, just another normal day 🤍 ah hem, here we go; Gayle (5), Niamh (3), Lola (1) also i have this idea of matching Owalas with the kids, i don’t know they’re so cuteeee

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Three kids, three water bottles for hydration, three mini bags of their things and entertainment will be; well you know the race and the people.”

“Nice thinking mom,” Avery teases and elbows Y/n in the arm.

“Hey, all I want to do during a race day is relax and let Oscar watch the kids before the actual race begins. Also I just want to be a cool mom who has matching water bottles with her kids.” Y/n shrugs, taking a sip from her Owala.

The two watch as Gayle and Niamh run around Lando, laughing and talking with her. Lola toddles around with Oscar’s help, trying her best to catch up with her sisters.

Y/n and Avery stand in the sunlight with their sunglasses resting on their faces. Y/n holds her water in her hold while Avery has her arms folded.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I love the Brazil race. Lovely weather, well most of the time.” Avery shrugs with a smile on her and Y/n laughs.

“Just like every other race destination, unpredictable.” Y/n sighs and she laughs once again watching Lola fall down on her butt as she tries to run after Lando.

The toddler laughs and flailing her arms around energetically. Oscar chuckles as he helps her up and into his arms.

He swings her around and gently rocks her. The girls hover around their dad as they all try to grab his attention. Of course, he can’t help but divide his attention among the three and make all three of them giggle at one of his dad jokes.

Y/n sighs with a content smile on her face and leans against Avery’s shoulder.

“Makes you want to have one right? You know Jefferson is very ready, you’ve seen him with the girls.” Avery rolls her eyes and Y/n gently hits her hip against hers.

“Yes, because having a toddler who looks actually like Jefferson with his green eyes and black curls and pale skin running around while he’s gone in Paris for fashion week and there is a messy house is a great idea. And if I’m like you and end up having three kids because we can’t get rid of each other, then that’s kind of a lot. Three kids with dark green eyes and perfect black curls.” Avery hums and holds onto Y/n’s arm.

“Sounds like you already can see your kids, or you have baby fever.” Y/n teases and Avery shakes her head.

“Jefferson does, not me.”

“Sure, let’s check that out again in five years.

[oacest]

Oasis' Noel Gallagher is like a bad boyfriend. He doesn't call when he says he will, and when he does show up, it's usually too early or too late. With a new album - "Don't Believe the Truth," out Tuesday - and a pending worldwide tour, he's too busy these days to squeeze chats in between television interviews in Paris and jumping on the Eurostar back to London. But like any bad boyfriend, once you get him on the line, he's as charming as all get out. Cocksure, glib and playful, he's without any of the mean spiritness you might expect from the outspoken rock 'n' roll star whose well-documented battles with other bands and his younger brother Liam are what rock legends are made of. Don't believe the stories, Noel says. "It often sounds to me a lot more vicious than it is," says on the way to a London gig. "It's all said very tongue-in-cheek, ya know? But when it's in black and white, obviously you don't see the smirk on [our] faces when [we're] saying it." But don't expect the bash brothers to let up on the fighting any time soon. "It's something that comes naturally to me," he says, adding, "I quite enjoy it as well." Recently Noel said Liam was like a woman with constant PMS, while Liam called Noel a "f---in' smug c---." But Noel wasn't upset. In fact he embraced it. "Well I am a f---in' smug c---," he says, with a smirk. "Wouldn't you be?" Sure, why not? The Manchester band's latest disc is being heralded as their best effort in years - a return to old-school Oasis - and the four-piece Brit-poppers sold out their first Madison Square Garden date, on June 22, in an hour. "It's quite amazing. I'm quite upset we didn't do it before," he says. "We don't want to go slapping each other on the back yet. We haven't done the gig yet." Oasis wants to make sure they aren't rusty. The band hasn't released anything in three years. They recorded an album with electronica duo Death in Vegas as producers, but scrapped the effort. "The songs weren't good enough. It's as simple as that really," Noel says. How did he know? He gets help from his five-year-old daughter Anais. "She said, 'Daddy I like that one. It's cool. Record that one,'" he says with a devilish laugh. "Of course, that's not true. It would be great though, wouldn't it?" They're also getting older. Noel turns 38 today, but he hates celebrating birthdays and doesn't exchange presents with his brother any time of the year. At times he seems like he only tolerates Liam. "He's good to be in a band with, but I wouldn't go down to bingo with him," he says. In fact, if they weren't brothers, Noel and Liam wouldn't be in the same band anymore. "If I didn't have a band with relatives in it I would be solo, beyond a shadow of a doubt," Noel says. That said, Noel says he looks out for Liam, as an older brother should. "I wouldn't like to leave Liam on his own," he says. "He'd get in too much trouble." Awww. That's so nice. "It is, innit," Noel says.

-NY Post, May 29, 2005

[bweeeb]

🎄Christmas collection

LONELINESS

THEODORE NOTT X READER

Part 1

Warnings: Angst, maybe too much drama, idk, use of Y/n for once here. Very short. Nothing too much. there will be a part two of this ok?

I hope this makes you sad like it made me while I wrote it.

* Theo might sound like an idiot here, but things get better I promise *

Summary: Christmas has always been your favorite time of year, but things are starting to go wrong this year.

The castle had never been as silent as it was that night. It wasn't surprising that the Slytherin common room was empty, or that the Great Hall was quieter than it had been all year, or that the snow-covered courtyards were devoid of any foolish students breaking a bone by jumping off a snow-covered stone. It was Christmas Eve, and the pitying glances of the teachers, and especially the smug looks directed at me, had kept me cooped up in the common room all week. I wasn't supposed to be here; I was supposed to be in Paris, or anywhere else, as long as he was holding my hand and pulling me along with him. Theo and I had made plans, but he'd simply vanished after hearing rumors that I was flirting with the Hufflepuff, Mason Mount. Since when is getting help with Potions class flirting? Anyway, Theo and I had argued, and the next morning, I'd waited for him, not having any idea he'd gone and left me here. I waited an entire day, wondering if maybe he'd just gone to buy some Christmas socks and those funny, tacky clothes we'd planned to wear on Christmas, but no, he'd just gone. He knew I had no one else, and yet he left me here on my first Christmas alone. It's not very nice when even the ghosts are talking to each other and making strange noises, and I haven't had a normal conversation with anyone in over 96 hours.

Sometimes I'd see a couple or two climbing the stairs, their faces lit up with joy at the peace the castle was exuding at this time of year. Sometimes I'd see students who were simply used to spending their Christmases alone, studying because their families didn't celebrate. But not me. My mom had always made sure that our Christmases were the most important event of the year. Dad would help me make cookies, eating them all before I could finish decorating them, while Mom played the piano. The fireplace was warm, and for three days, we'd sit on the fluffy white rug in front of it, a mug of hot chocolate in our hands and the tree lights twinkling as we played Christmas-themed guessing games. If I'd known that last year would be my last with them, I would have locked us in and stayed there forever.

I curled up further into the green leather sofa in the common room, watching the fire consume the logs. The common room was one of the coldest areas of the castle, and even though there weren't many windows, the cold wind seemed to dance through our hall. As stupid as it seemed to stay downstairs in this cold, my room was even colder, and the blankets I'd conjured with magic hadn't become warm enough. Mom had always told me that our magic was only as strong as our belief in the magic around us, so maybe that was why nothing was working very well. My pajamas weren't warm enough to keep me cozy, since my heavier winter robes were far away and had somehow gotten caught somewhere along the way, and even magic hadn't worked its magic.

Shivering against my own body, I snorted, feeling the tears welling up in my eyes. The clock struck midnight, and a shaky sigh escaped my lips. I hated how ridiculous I looked now. The only group of three students passed by me. Even though it was late, the bedtime curfew on holidays was relaxed, so it wasn't unusual to see some of us out and about. They wished me a Merry Christmas and disappeared, leaving me there. Now that I figured hardly anyone else would show up, my tears streamed down my face like waterfalls as I buried my face in my arms, my knees drawn up to my chest.

Christmas wasn't supposed to be like this. At Christmas, there should be nothing but tears of joy, but it was so hard not to feel pain.

Somewhere between my crying and exhaustion, I fell asleep. I closed my eyes and no longer heard my sobs.

__________________________________________

Part two

[celebtf]

THE OLYMPIC RECORD

Jackson had spent every waking moment of the past year preparing for the Olympics in Paris. Every run, every stretch, every pole vault had been for one goal: to compete on the world stage. He could already imagine it—his name in lights, the crowd roaring as he soared through the air, his feet clearing the bar, breaking records.

But despite his dedication, the rejection letter from the Olympic committee arrived not once, but twice. The rejection felt like a knife twisting in his gut, each time a little deeper.

No explanation, no sympathy. Just another failure.

He knew he was good—great, even. But the world didn’t care. They only wanted the best. That’s when the idea came to him: if he couldn’t compete as himself, he’d have to find another way.

He needed to be someone who could win. Someone like Armando Duplantis.

The world-class pole vaulter was everything Jackson wasn’t: fast and already a champion. If he couldn’t make it to the Olympics, why not become Armando?

Desperation led Jackson down dark paths. He spent weeks searching for a way to make his insane idea a reality. Late one night, he stumbled upon a website hidden deep within the dark web—a place where the rules of nature no longer applied. There, among the pages of cryptic text and strange symbols, he found what he was looking for.

A vial of liquid, the color of midnight. Its description was brief and almost unbelievable: "Transforms the form of anyone or anything into something new."

The price was staggering, but Jackson didn’t hesitate. He drained his savings and bought it.

When it arrived, the vial was smaller than he expected, fitting snugly into the palm of his hand. The instructions were simple: one sip to transform another, the rest for yourself. But the implications were far more complex.

Jackson held the vial between his fingers, the weight of his decision sinking in. There would be no turning back.

For days, Jackson followed Duplantis, watching his every move. He memorized the athlete's routine down to the minute. Duplantis trained hard, and each evening, when the field was empty and quiet, he stayed behind for extra practice. It was then, Jackson knew, that he would strike.

Late one evening, when the stadium was deserted, Jackson crept into the locker room. His heart pounded in his chest, and his palms were slick with sweat as he broke into Duplantis’s locker. The water bottle sat there, unassuming. With trembling hands, he uncapped the bottle and poured half the potion into it, the dark liquid swirling and then vanishing into the water.

He kept the rest for himself. His hand hovered over his pocket for a moment, feeling the weight of the remaining potion. The tension was suffocating.

Jackson hid in the shadows and waited. Minutes felt like hours, but eventually, Duplantis returned from the field. His body was glistening with sweat, muscles rippling beneath his skin as he moved with a grace Jackson had always envied. Duplantis grabbed the water bottle, lifting it to his lips.

Jackson’s breath caught in his throat as Duplantis drank.

At first, nothing happened. But then, Duplantis faltered. His face twisted in confusion as his legs buckled beneath him. He groaned, dropping the bottle, clutching his stomach.

Jackson watched, both horrified and fascinated, as Duplantis’s limbs began to shift unnaturally. His arms stretched and twisted, the bones snapping and reforming in grotesque shapes. His skin paled, growing smooth and taut, like polished wood. His legs fused together, extending further, his feet melting into a single, elongated form. His spine bent backward, arching at impossible angles, his ribs collapsing inward with a sickening crunch.

Duplantis’s face was the last thing to go. His eyes wide with panic, his mouth opened as if to scream, but no sound escaped. His features smoothed, flattening until they disappeared entirely, leaving behind a sleek, flawless surface.

Where Armando Duplantis had once stood, now there was only a perfect pole—a shining, metallic pole, the kind used for vaulting. The real Duplantis was gone, his body and identity twisted into nothing more than a tool.

Jackson stepped forward, his heart racing. He ran his hand along the pole. It was cold, impossibly light, and perfectly balanced.

"Perfect," Jackson whispered, a grin spreading across his face.

With the real Duplantis now reduced to an instrument for his success, Jackson knew it was time. He pulled the remaining vial from his pocket and stared at it, his fingers trembling. Was he really about to do this? There was no turning back now.

He uncorked the vial and swallowed the rest of the potion in one quick gulp.

At first, there was nothing. But then, a burning sensation ignited in his chest, spreading like wildfire through his veins. His skin prickled, his muscles tightening as his body began to change.

His bones cracked and shifted, elongating as his arms grew leaner, his legs grew longer. Jackson gasped as his vision blurred, his face contorting, pulling and stretching like clay being molded by invisible hands. He could feel the structure of his jaw shifting, the bones reconfiguring. His nose thinned, his cheekbones sharpened, and his hair darkened, straightening into the perfect image of Duplantis.

He watched in awe as his reflection in the locker mirror changed, his own features disappearing entirely, replaced by Duplantis’s sharp, athletic face. His body rippled with newfound strength, his muscles surging beneath his skin. He felt... powerful. Light. Like he could vault into the air and never come down.

But more than anything, he felt a strange calm settle over him. His heart slowed, his mind cleared. He was no longer Jackson. He had become Duplantis.

He flexed his fingers, marveling at how they moved, so fluid, so graceful. This body—it wasn’t his, but it felt like it had always been his. There was no guilt, no hesitation. Only the overwhelming certainty that this was what he had been meant for all along.

He picked up the pole—the real Duplantis, now nothing more than an object—and headed out to the field.

The next day, Jackson, now fully transformed into Duplantis, took to the field for the Olympic trials. The stadium buzzed with excitement, the crowd’s energy electric.

Jackson stood at the start of the runway, the pole gripped tightly in his hands. He could feel the power thrumming through his muscles, the precision in every movement. The old Jackson would have been nervous, but now, in this body, he felt invincible.

As he sprinted down the runway, everything around him blurred. His focus narrowed to the bar above, so high it seemed impossible to clear—but not for him. He planted the pole and launched into the air, his body moving with perfect, effortless grace.

The crowd erupted as he sailed over the bar, higher than anyone had ever gone before. The record was shattered. He landed lightly on the mat, standing tall as the stadium roared in approval.

Jackson smiled, feeling the weight of victory settle on his shoulders. He had done it. He had become the best in the world.

[imaginesbymonika]

She's electric | Part 3

Pairing: Liam Gallagher x fem!bassist reader

Plot: Liam's hatred for Blur runs deep. However, no matter how much he hates them and their stupid music - he cannot seem to hate their bassist.

Last Part

DAILY MAIL

friday, february 15, 1997

NEWSPAPER OF THE YEAR , 35p

"Uncomfortable Liam Gallagher Seen Standing Close to Blur’s Y/N at BRITs Afterparty, Snaps 'Stop Looking at Me,' as Damon Albarn Jokes: 'I Thought He Liked Being Looked At'"

(3 months later)

Noel shakes his head in repulsion as he follows his younger brother into the main hall, taking a few steps to the side so he doesn't bump into other people:” God, this place is fucking crowded. Can’t we just leave?” Liam, who stops to make room for two giggling actresses scoffs:” This might be the first time you’re saying something that makes sense.” He doesn’t have to look at Noel to know he’s rolling his eyes.

Meanwhile Y/N stands next to Damon and his girlfriend. Her arms are tightly crossed in front of her chest while she leans her head on her best friend's shoulder. Just as she's about to speak, a slight shiver runs down her spine. She instantly lifts her head and blinks a couple of times before spinning around. Her gaze scans the rows until it meets Liam’s. Maybe all the talk about this infamous sixth sense might have some truth to it after all.

However, as if the Gods above were making an effort to shield her from making any sort of mistake the lights are beginning to dim. And before she can open her mouth to say something somebody grabs her upper arms to drag her further away. There’s a particular disappointment forming in the young woman, one that Liam is sensing as well.

During the entire evening, his eyes shift to Y/N every now and then. He moves in his seat as he tries his absolute best to concentrate on the award show at hand, but his mind (just like his gaze) keeps wandering back to her. He simply can’t help himself, it’s almost as if she’s some magnet pulling him (and his sanity) toward her. He almost feels helpless in a way.

“It’s time for ‘Album of the Year’.”, Paris Hilton announces, while slightly leaning forward. Liam wants to win so badly. He truly does. Yet when he looks over at Y/N there’s a certain level of frustration growing within him. He sees the way she’s excitedly speaking to Damon while holding his hand. Fuck the other members, he just wants her to win.

“And the winner is…” Liam holds his breath and places his elbows on his knees. “Blur, with ‘Blur’. That’s so hot!” She purrs into the microphone.

“Fuck this crap.”, Noel lets out and shakes his head as they watch how Blur themselves hug one another.” This has to be rigged.” The audience meanwhile cheers and whistles loudly while the band makes their way up the stairs onto the stage. Liam clenches his teeth. Although he wants to be nonchalant, when he sees her in that short leopard print dress, he can’t help but marvel at how gorgeous she looks. He leans his head back and shuts his eyes in frustration while Damon’s voice fills the room:” Can someone please shut off that damn microphone?!”

“This is so great.”

At the sound of her soft voice Liam instantly opens his eyes again .”No, really. Thank you so much for this! However… I would like to share this one with Oasis.” Her left hand lifts the small statue into the air. Liam can't remember the last time where he had been this speechless, but as he steals a quick glance at his older brother, he realizes that he isn't the only one feeling that way.

“Huge fan, truly. Genuinely believe they’re the best musicians this genre has to offer at this moment…Thanks again.”

[backslashdelta]

Blaine-friendly Kurtbastian Fic Recs

Putting a list together for @fallevs, but I hope this will be useful for anyone who wants to dip their toes into Kurtbastian fanfiction but doesn't want to read anything anti-Blaine! Everything included in this list will either not include Blaine at all, or if he is in the fic, it will be neutral or friendly toward him.

I've tried to include a wide range of words counts as well, so that you can start with something short and sweet or dive into something big, whatever you feel like. If anyone else has some recommendations to add, please feel free to reblog this list and add more!

Europe Is Our Playground by @glitterdammerung - 53,430 words

Summary: Eight years and half the world away from home, a chance encounter in a Paris club leads Kurt and Sebastian - each running from the ghosts of their pasts - into the diversion of chasing each other across Europe.

(Let's give them) Something to talk about by MemeKonGlee - 20,529 words

Summary: “I need you to—” “I heard you the first time,” Kurt interrupts, putting his fork and knife down on his plate and pushing his half-finished pancakes aside. “What I meant was: what the hell?” He points towards the neglected pancakes, trying to stall in the face of Kurt’s reaction. “Are you sure you don’t wanna finish that first?” The look in Kurt's eyes tells him in no uncertain terms that no, he doesn't want to finish his pancakes, Jesus. And so Sebastian has no option but to take a deep breath in, exhale slowly through his mouth and just… get on with it, internally cringing at how unbelievably ridiculous it all sounds when he puts it in words, all out there for the world (and more importantly, Kurt fucking Hummel) to judge. It all boils down to: I fucked up and I'm too proud to deal with it the mature way.

Safe Mode by flipmeforward - 18,118 words

Summary: An AU in which Kurt and Sebastian never met in high school. Instead, they meet at &brave--an up-and-coming online fashion company where Kurt is the new assistant slash blogger (one day he will figure out a better title), and Sebastian is the less than pleasant tech support guy. Kurt does his best to avoid Sebastian and his rude attitude at all possible costs, but it turns out that technology is not his friend. It also turns out that Sebastian might maybe possibly be (okay, probably is) more than just an annoying coworker.

Come On And Mess Me Up by @pouralittlewater - 215,339 words

Summary: “It’s like...When Harry Met Sally,” Santana told him. “No. That was me and Blaine.” “How? You literally got together in months. You and Sebastian have been skirting the issue for years. This whole “will they, won’t they” thing is getting old.” Or, when Sebastian enrolls in McKinley High and joins Glee right before the duet competition. What Kurt thinks could be the start to a great friendship in gay camaraderie quickly explodes in his face as he realizes being around Sebastian makes him want to set the other boy on fire. However, over time, that feeling dissipates. Even without the title of friendship, the two become ingrained in each other's lives in a way neither ever expected to.

Thunderbolts & Lightning by @alphabees-writes - 1,854 words

Summary: Sebastian has a plan. It goes wrong, and then right, and then wrong again.

tension bars by @cryscendo - 824 words

Summary: Prompt by backslashdelta: kurt, sports!au (gymnastics), exes, “sometimes, i sit in bed and wonder what would happen if things were different.”

I Want The World To See You'll Be With Me by @backslashdelta (me!) - 2,405 words

Summary: Kurt and Sebastian attend a Christmas party, and Sebastian has a special surprise for Kurt afterward.

Dessert by @nalasan - 1,175 words

Summary: “Oh my God,” Sebastian says, staring at the plate in front of him. “We have to break up.” Kurt, who has just walked into their living room and is still in his winter coat, raises his eyebrow quizzically; his expression more bemused than worried, “And why is that?” “Just look at that,” Sebastian replies, gesturing at the table in front of him like he is seeing it for the first time: the white tablecloth, the candles in their silver candleholders, the white roses in their vase in the middle of the table, and the dinner Sebastian has been preparing since he came home three hours ago.

And Why Is That? by @20xbetterthanu - 41,321 words

Summary: "I love you, and I hate myself for that." "And why is that?" Love hurts.

Note from me: this fic is definitely not anti-Blaine, however it does heavily involve Blaine and he is Not having a good time, so I maybe wouldn't recommend it if you want to avoid him (and the other boys!) being sad.

A Change In The Weather by cacophonylights - 209,414 words

Summary: The summer before college Kurt is shocked when Sebastian comes to him with a timely offer he can’t refuse.  He’ll get something he needs to realize his dreams, but in return he has to play the role of Sebastian’s boyfriend for the summer.  Neither of them know just how much their worlds are about to change. For a GKM prompt.

Note from me: this fic COULD be considered anti-Blaine, but I don't personally consider it to be; it maybe doesn't paint him in the most positive light, but I think it's still neutral enough to be on this list, and it's essentially required reading at this point! Also, it is famously unfinished, but there are a couple fan sequels: ACITW AU by @lady-divine-writes A Drop In The Ocean by @daftydraw and jwmelmoth The ACITW link above is for livejournal, but you can also find the original fic on AO3 in two parts here and here.

[quattrovageena]

today's menu, once again: regarding the logistics of hxh duos relationships

so. ging and pariston. paying a little bit of attention to how they interact, we bump into what can be seen as a contradiction, namely their closeness (or lack thereof)

regard:

pariston about ging

his internal monologue seems to imply he is learning/confirming (note the 'do' in 'we do think alike) something for the first time. this isn't the sort of thing you'd expect someone to figure out after having spent a great deal of time together. it sounds a lot like pariston is finding this out as the reader is too, which is peculiar. perhaps the zodiac meetings weren't great for getting to know ging (especially if he's usually absent)

on the other hand, however, ging about pariston...

complicated. note, this translation is unfortunate in that it leaves out a crucial detail (which is that ging is actually referring to pariston as the shortened 'paris') that just furthers this sort of contrasting view they have of their relationship; ging calls him by a nickname, pariston politely and perhaps professionally goes with the distant 'ging-san'. going back to the screenshot, however... this is interesting. if it were just that they were coworkers like any other zodiacs, calling it a complicated history seems a bit much. so what gives?

the type of scenario i can picture is one in which they know of each other a lot longer than they have actually interacted (like a summer friendship, across many years but only ever meet occasionally) which is fascinating. was communication done through netero (who might've enjoyed the idea of these two butting heads -> actually the 'we do think alike' might very likely be a confirmation of something netero himself told pariston), building an image of the other up in their minds. were they constantly throwing a wrench in the others plans without direct contact? potentially, ging and pariston both seem to agree the latter really wanted ging's attention for ages, so was the fact ging is so distant a factor in fueling pariston's strange focus on him? much to ponder.

final sidenote: there might also be a difference in how confident they are of having understood the other. pariston seems to strongly believe in ging's qualities and skills (duh), but be more cautious about making judgements about the man himself too early, meanwhile ging, while having a good grasp on paristons modus operandi...

...might be a bit overconfident...

(also hehe note the smug-fruity pose in ging's mental image of pariston. definitely much to ponder)