#i hate that i cant add read more on a phone..

[hokusu]

tbh I wouldn't even say I'm "trying" to watch anything this season lmao I gave up trying to keep up a very long time ago. the only one I even remotely tried keeping up with was Spy x Family, but even that one I fell behind on after a few episodes despite how much I enjoy the series. I'll definitely catch up with that one once the season is done airing though.

yeah Christmas music is such an important part of the season for me but I have a pretty specific taste in that genre of music haha which I why I have a playlist. living in a place that gets lots of snow can be really nice because it's so pretty and it makes the Christmas season even better, but it can definitely be a huge hindrance too for sure. we hardly ever got significant snowfall back where I grew up, so white Christmases were never really a thing when I was a kid so it's been nice to have them as an adult~

I mean, I struggle to even watch the shorter stuff that's been on my to-watch list for YEARS so I honestly doubt One Piece will ever happen for me. xD but hey, who knows! I know plenty of people who absolutely love it, and my brother also enjoys it, so who knows what the future will bring haha.

as for faves regarding HQ!! and SNK, Hinata and Kageyama and my babies and I adore them with every fiber of my being, but I also really love Kuroo and Nishinoya, and Mikasa and Levi are my queen and king~ what about you?? we've talked a lot about BNHA but who are some other fave characters of yours?

and yeah I totally agree with you regarding Hawks, he deserves so much more love and appreciation. he's been through so much shit throughout his life and he tries SO HARD to do good however he can despite constantly being manipulated by the HPSC and forced to do things that he doesn't necessarily want to do. speaking of Endeavor though... what are your thoughts on him? 👀 I personally can't stand him and the fact that Hawks as a character is so linked to him throughout the story just... hrg;kahgrjabs I absolutely hate it and I do wish we had seen SOME sort of backlash after Dabi's broadcast, especially from Hawks himself, but nothing seems to have changed at all?? I'd love to hear your thoughts regarding that whole situation~

please don't ever apologize about being passionate about a character or anything!! you deserve to be as engrossed in a character or a story or whatever as you want, and I love it!! thank you for sharing your thoughts with me~❤️

~your animanga secret santa❤️

Hello Santa! It's almost Christmas, so going to wish you a early very merry one until reveal day!! 🥰

Aww I love spy x family too, its the perfect balance of heartwarming and funny. Really enjoy the whole forgers family, but even the other characters like Damien I just want to learn more about them!! Hope you'll enjoy when you catch up!

What's your fav music genre? That's so cool you get white christmas now! I'd like to spend one with that one day too. But omg I keep hearing about everyone at freezing temperatures for xmas this year but apparently where I'm at it's going to be quite warm this week. 😅 At least traveling is easy here ha ha.

Ahaha again, totally understandable about OP. There's a ton on my watch list that I'm still waiting for the "right mood" for and haven't started either. I wonder what your favorite animanga is? 👀

Oh hell yeah, all your HQ favs are my favs too!! lol. Hinata is a complete sunshine and literally deserves everything good in the world. I think he's so motivational and really makes you feel like you can do anything haha. And Kageyama was my love at first sight in HQ bcus I have a type and his misunderstood personality speaks to me alsjdkkdd lol. I also love his character development a lot. And Kuroo, his personality, his looks...he's perfect. I also predictably loved that Kuroo's VA in japanese is also Hawks'. ^^ And Nishinoya is just so damn cool and reliable, he's the best! Anyways I really love almost everyone in HQ tho, sports anime always makes me feel that way lol. Idk if you've seen Run with the Wind, but it reminds me a lot of HQ too, so I highly recommend. It's only one season and the main character is such a Kageyama clone too but the story is very satisfying. 💛

And for SNK, Levi and Eren have been my favs since 2013 lol. I love their tragic pasts bound by duty, the way they grew up how no one should've, their personality and need to be free, I love that they never give up and their dynamics with each other. SNK's plot of no clear cut black and white of villains, but watching Eren go from hero to antihero, was incredibly interesting. And at the end of the day, despite what he does is unforgiveably wrong...he just wanted to protect the people most important to him and its really an impossible choice. And Levi is one of the biggest badass so I liked him instantly. When you think super cool character, its easily him!! But you also learn his mistakes, his flaws, his emotions that crack through his inital cold exterior when he's anything but. And like that just makes me feel things, they're both very much human with the weight of too much on their shoulders despite the monsters they're described to be. So I have a very soft spot for them even though I don't paritucularly enjoy the fandom anymore (it turned too toxic). 😅

Besides the favs I mentioned on my last ask, hmm to expand on some of them, one of the reason I like Trafalgar Law from One Piece is because he reminds me a LOT of Levi tbh lolol 😉. The tragic past, the personality, the way he's so damn cool when he fights ...and they even have the same VA too. 😂

And to mention a few more favs,

FMAB - I loveeee Roy Mustang and Ed Elric most but also Greed/Ling.

MP 100 - Ughh I'm deep in feels since the anime just ended 🥲 but MOB is so precious.

TokRev - I loved Mikey and Draken almost instantly alsjdkd im very excited for s2. Also Baji?? 😭😭

Anyways!! OH MAN, my thoughts on Hawks and Endeavor..hahah. So I don't like Endeavor at all, but I also don't really think about him much and it doesn't bother me that Hawks is there and interacts with him in the plot because to me it speaks volumes about Hawks' character and not Endeavor. I know there's a lot of people mad that we don't see Hawks react negatively to the situation after Dabi's broadcast. But I also think people have to realize they're in the middle of literal war. Hawks, who has always been manipulated, conditioned and grew up in non conventional ways, who had probably never processed anything in his life—from his personal abuse from his parents and HSPC to what he had to do as a solider and probably a lot more if we look at Lady Nagants' hints, I think hes very good at ignoring his own feelings. He's the fastest hero literally also because I think he never takes a moment to stop, to breathe. He's always in fight for survival mode, he's always trying to do the next thing, to "be of use" (and I think after being told "what use are you" as a kid, he can't help but do this) and it shows. Even when we see him after the injures from Dabi, he's barely recovered but he's already up and about without his voice before, and now with prosthetic wings on a battlefield with the main villain. He'll really do anything including shoving his own feelings away if it means helping everyone else and he's just doing what he's always been taught to do—focus on the mission (AFO in this case). Given the war, of course he still helps Endeavor fight. But beyond that I think he says if he wants to change he'll help is because think about it -- Hawks own parents never did this. He never got answers, he never got any form of redemption from them, they never so much as apologized or recognized him in his entire life. So seeing Endeavor trying to do that? I think Hawks is very much projecting himself into Todorokis family, because he never had someone even try in his own family to reconcile on him. And he himself feels like *he's* the one that turned his back on his parents, when it was obviously the other way around. There's a lot of complicated layers and history that I think people have to understand about Hawks that makes him do what he does. I of course would LOVE to see him break down and react to everything that's ever happened to him and I hope they'll show it, but we'll see. I like mostly of where the plot is and I think there's still room for a lot of what's to come including Hawks changing/processing everything.

I feel like there will be a breaking point soon, where the "old" heroes and society will see how they've been wrong all along. It's not heroes vs. villains when a lot of the villains have been mistreated and discarded by society. I very much think the theme here is, changing and helping people like Toga, Dabi. Shigaraki who was not inherently evil the way AFO is. And that includes Hawks changing, consequences for Endeavor (I hope, after this basially apocalypse theyre fighting to end.) That's my thoughts anyways lol.

Thanks for reading Santa and can't wait to see you soon! 💛

[siobhanromee]

.

[cyxnidx]

Hello! Can I request part 2 of “What’re you reading?” But with Scaramouche (Wanderer), Heizou, and Albedo?

WHAT’RE YOU READING ? V. 2

sure thing luv <3

part 1 here

characters: Scaramouche, Heizou, Albedo and Tartaglia

summary: they finding you reading/writing smut

a/n: i decided to add tartaglia for this one! hope you dont mind

scara was the curious type, especially with you. so when he felt bored, and decided to see what you were doing only to find you reading, he couldn’t help but be tempted to see it.

“can i see?” he asked timidly, reaching for the book slowly. you couldn’t help but let him take a look, watching as he admired the cover and back.

though, your heart rate when from a calm pace to a panicky one as you watched him open the book, slowly admiring the drawings and speech bubbles.

and just as you tried to take the book, he landed on one of the more mature scenes. you sighed like a disappointed mother as his eyes widened, hands eventually dropping the book out of pure shock.

“at no point in time should i have seen that..” he said, now stunned at the hardcore graphics.

“give it back, heizou!” you scolded, face puckered and annoyed. your boyfriend had taken your phone while you were on ao3, and to say the least, you were more annoyed than you usually would be.

it was your favorite fic, and one of your favorite scenes was coming up. that was until your eyes were too full of anticipation and excitement for heizou’s liking, tempting him to take it.

“what’s so important on it anyway?” he asked, still clueless of the mess he’s gotten himself into already. you sighed, not wanting to tell. “just give it back, and make it easier on yourself.”

“easier?” he asked, somewhat offended by the use of the word. were you looking down on him? “why would you think i’d want to make it easier on myself? do you think there’s something i cant handle here?”

smirking, you shrugged. “maybe. i mean, it may be new as to be a bit hard to comprehend.”

you laughed as you watched him look at your phone, reading the many words that made up such interesting paragraphs, only to give it back in a shock.

“that. i never thought it’d be that.”

albedo had seen it all at this point. from point A, to point Z. though, as much as he had heard, and even watched, he’d never thought that he’d read such descriptive words. Words that made everything seem to realistic.

and with his vivid imagination? oh, it was a field day.

“you see what happens when you use my stuff, albedo?” you asked, hand on your hip and face having a smart look to it.

a particular snarky look he seemed to hate. a cocky expression.

though, there wasn’t much he could do with how shocked he was. he was absolutely stunned. “this is what you read..” he said, almost seeming scarily surprised.

“oh? but i thought you’ve seen it all?” you asked in an unimpressed tone, only to be caught off-guard with his next question. “can we try it?”

“so? what do you think?” you asked expectantly as you watched Tartaglia’s eyes read the words you’ve written for a post.

you frequently wrote online, and he had no problem with it at all. if anything, he loved that it was how you expressed your creativity, emotions and just random thoughts.

he found it beautiful.

however, out of all the things he’d usually proof-read for you, this was the first one he’d consider extreme.

“Tartaglia..?” you asked again, taking into account that he’d went quiet. he should be done reading by now, it wasn’t like it was a lot. just about 3 paragraphs.

“you’d like to know what i thought of it, yes?” he asked, checking for assurance.

you nodded eagerly, wanting to hear his opinion on it or if you’ve made any mistakes describing something.

“honestly..” he began, turning your phone off and placing it on the bedside table. “..how about we test it out first?”

happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate🫶🏼

[dramallamas]

The (unserious) notes of Beyond Evil, Episode 2!

Previous Episode || Next Episode

bro this body really dragged everyone out there. all our side characters are here.

"there's mud everywhere" my guy youre in a field what do you expect

"could it be a pervert obsessed with feet?" that doesnt narrow down the list that much in this day and age...

Lee Dongsik was sexy in his 20s 30s and 40s not every man can pull that off. Lee Dongsik the man you are

oh and he's here too (Juwon)

Dongsik is also a little shit and i love him for that.

“Do you like me that much?” Houston I’m deceased.

HE DIDNT SAY NO

Man we get flirting in Episode Two damn we get fed well as a community.

“Isnt she your sister, Lee Yuyeon?” LIARRRR

“The recording room isn’t your bedroom.” As in both of theirs? Because I have read the fics 👀

How warm is the recording room is my question. Because if its like my bedroom then shits freezing

I have said this once and will say it again lee Dongsik is a sexy mf

“I got lured?” Juwons face pls he is so confused.

THE SCORE AND SOUNDS GOD PROPS TO THE MUSIC PPL

Juwons disgust is so amusing.

Bro it must suck to be talked about when you are right here.

Part of me is curious as to how Dongsik went from Lee Dohyun Dongsik to Shin Hakyun Dongsik. Like we get hints in flashbacks but not much more.

We act like Juwon had this sudden shift in how he reacts to Dongsik after his Busan trip but it was there the whole time just a lot more subtle.

Juwon looking at dirt is me looking at Jinmuk. Fricken gross.

“Touch it (my phone) again and your fingers will…” shit man

Also unpopular opinion incoming: not the biggest fan of minjeong. Shes tragic and interesting enough but she is also the type of person I would avoid being friends with

We dont give Jeongje enough credit for him standing up to his mother passive aggressively.

THE FIRST RAIN SCENE ITS HERE

All good things happen in the rain in this show and I stand by that.

This one melts my heart (and Juwon’s too)

He just stares at Dongsik smiling… perhaps he cant be all that bad hey Juwon.

HAN KIHWAN GTF OUT OF HERE

Also juwon can I have that jumper pls? At least tell me where u got it (that blue one he wore with the stripes on his arm).

Juwon in casual clothing is smth we dont see enough of especially at the start of the show

Juwon proving he is just as insane as Dongsik in this scene but also just as driven about solving what really happened. Two sides of the same coin.

Also we do not give the camera ppl enough credit either the way they shoot the scenes is incredible and rlly captures both the character and their thoughts/feelings as well as their situation and vibes of the scene.

“I don’t like solving riddles” juwon aint that ur job…?

Tiny hc: jeongje learnt some english words and slips them into his conversations to add fuel to his lie of ‘studying in america’

“There isnt a single cop in the country wjk would prioritise such a case.” Jeongje says to Juwon, who is prioritising such a case.

Juwon nearly losing his cool is so interesting and important to me.

Juwon doesnt fuck with people telling him to stay quiet thats for sure.

Ok so Dongsiks mum sees Dongsiks dad frozen to death and calls him 동식(이?) 아버지 (Dongsiks dad). like imagine u mother calls ur dad "(your name)'s dad!" is this a thing in korea or a script choice?

Tfw you hear the tragic backstory of ur suspect/future bf

part of me thinks dongsiks limp/leg injury might be psychosomatic, at least a little bit.

jihwas contact name for dongsik being 똥식 is so funny. (동 is how its supposed to be 똥, pronounced only slightly differently means shit/poop)

Underrated friendship Jaeyi and Jihoon moment.

God I hate clubs sm (I have been and ended up stressed depressed and just on the verge of tears by the end of it and I was dead sober)

Dongsik is in protective dad mode and he stands for womens rights (and probably womens wrongs) and i love that.

I am aware that this episode 2 notes is mostly just me loving Dongsik.

Everyone beind done with minjeon is also me.

"Dongsik I wasnt cheating on you..." girl youre giving Juwon the wrong ideas. also dongsik would deserve better than you anyway

Juwon rn "this girl is insane... idk what i expected because this is manyang but she rlly is and I am not dealing with it"

Juwon not being a physical touch person and valuing personal space a lot and Dongsik being an exception is everything to me.

also underrated duo moment of Juwon and Jihoon

Honestly Juwon Jaeyi Jihoon friendship trio should be a thing in fics

Actually Dongsik isnt that much shorter than Juwon... huh...

The shot where they are both looking down... I should use that as my laptop wallpaper tbh

Minjeongs death sequence gives me the chills every time.

Them talking about the death body and Jinmuk being in the shade in the background with Jaeyi... means smth but im not smart enough yet.

Dongsiks case wall for Yuyeon in his basement genuinely makes me cry knowing the truth about it

'hey bitch 😏' is the energy we have rn

Bro cannot control his emotions well around Dongsik

“Let me give you a thorough tour of our jurisdiction” is Dongsik code for, ‘follow me I need to show you something’

I remember this scene being the netflix preview (the one where juwon states that he wants to move to manyang) for beyond evil and I remember thinking… what a shit scene to preview to convince ppl to watch the show. However… I think otherwise because…

“Just what about me interests you so much? I don’t think it’s that I’m a cop. Perhaps that I’m a suspect?”

“Let me ask you. Just what about me interests you so much? You obviously seem to be dying to know what I was up to at Foreign Affairs.”

THAT PART IS CONVINCING ASF HELLO

And then… pain.

Juwon hesitating and genuinely looking torn deciding what to do. Does he call it in or… what? Comfort Dongsik? Probably considered how he reacts upon hearing Dongsik start to cry before realising why. His entire face screams “I’m so sorry…”

And Dongsik oh my god. Even though we know he put them there I think this is the first time he properly grieved it, even if only a little.

He probably did it to bust the case back open again so he and the vicitims can get justice.

And fin. See you next ep!

[sn4pozu]

how Richard Trager uses Instagram (yes, he would use Instagram):

this is Pre-Engine Rick because realistically post-engine Rick would have other things to worry about besides instagram

30 stories a day, from dawn till dawn again this man is addicted to the layout

doesn't use stickers because hes a grown man BUT HE DOES HAVE A BITMOJI THAT HE USES RELIGIOUSLY

its half office reels, half food pics, and a quarter just rants

overuses tags to hell, even randomly mid sentence , example: "#Amazing day today at @MurkoffOfficial ! this #Work ain't doin itself 📋💻👍🏻 #Workday #Monday #Officeday #ADayInMyLife #Job"

sometimes thinks that Murkoff should totally have a social media account, he knows its dumb but he cant help wanting more followers 😔

"Suns out guns out! #Sunday with my bud @JeremyBlaireOfficial" and its a picture of them in a golf cart holding champagne (not gay, just besties)

Not to sneak in my RickJer agenda but in my minds eye they signed eachothers golf clubs

tags the location if he could he would

username is something obnoxious like 'RichardTragerOfficial' like nobody know u lil bro 😭😭😭

buys likes and followers to feed his ego

4k followers thats like 85% bots

" @McDonaldsOffical Never fails 😂😂😂 #hangovermeal #NoRegrets" and its a fish fillet with the most inhuman bite you've ever seen taken out of it

WOULD POST A SWEATY GYM MAT AND TAG THE GYM AND IT'D HAVE A DUMB CAPTION LIKE "Workout Wednesdays! 🏋🏼‍♂️💪#Wednesday #Gym #Exercise #GymPic #Muscles" HE LACKS SELF AWARENESS DONT LAUGH

would 'ironically' comment "Hot! 🔥🔥🔥" on a mans gym pic and would slutshame a womans gym butt pic

"he hurts every woman hes ever met because his true soulmate is a man" - Sock-rates

he would unironically use hashtags in a sentence for fun, also urges Jer to be more active on Instagram

imagine the most white grown man, now add curly blonde hair, uhuh now give him a gay sweater, now make him homophobic & gay, yep .thats him officer

HAS gotten scammed on instagram, he threathened legal action and got his money back and deleted their account after a week tho

weekday streaks exist to him, no hes not a middle schooler hes actually 30

look at me in the eyes and tell me he wouldn't make fun of feminism in the comments section of those LibzDunked accounts

his Close Friends stories are just aftermaths after nights out, its either him drunk posting or filming himself talking to the camera about his hangover

its just Jer and a few other friends but it has the same intimacy of homosexuality

theres one video where hes drunk and actually tripped and fell so comically its been 7 months and Jer still makes fun of him for it (laughs along but actually hates it like viscerally)

he has 3 phones, both iphones and one is a samsung flip (he wanted the hype), a work phone, home phone, and his normal phone, why does he need so much? why is he not robbed yet? we will never know....

replies to those awareness posts about war in the middle east and goes like "damn.. thats unfortunate 💔 hearts goes out to them 🙏 @Chriswalker89"

most menacing instagram white man, cyberbullies as a past time and has 5 alts just focused on Harrassment+ Stalking people

he'd doxx which hospital your mother is staying in with no shame

"If you don't take that back I'm injecting your mothers spine with brain eating parasites" and he means that for real

would post corny atheist memes & misinformation

induces paranoia as a hobby "Yes ma'am i am a licensed doctor vaccines Do cause autism" as a treat

he fucks around too much one day his main gets suspended and he calls Instagram customer services

if you wouldn't think he'd try to hook up with an instagram influencer you are a liar

weekly self-help book recommendations that he doesn't read and actually just gets payed 7$ per link

im not saying he would make an alt to just hype up his own photos but he would.....do that.....

also gets blackmailed his own dick pic but whatever that was in the past

on a side note Jeremy does have a year old instagram account that only has 2 pictures (both just bar pics of him posing with a glass of wine like an idiot) and his entire Tagged section is just RICHARD TAGGING HIM IN ANYTHING

[babiebom]

Im a Bit curious about who your favorite characters are from the fandoms your writing for (also love your taste in kpop)

PS: k-drama recommendation

- Strong Woman Do Bong Soon

- Until we meet again (it's thai but still good)

- The sadness (Korean film)

- How may I help you

- Mouse

- Lovenest

- Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok-joo

- Style (from 2009)

Ohoohoo~ anon you fell into my trap I love ranting about my faves also thank you(x3) for the recs Strong Woman Do Bong Soon is one of my favorite kdramas and Park Boyoung is like my third favorite actress so I already know your taste is good without having seen anything else also putting my faves below the cut because only god himself can stop me now. (I promise I will try to keep this short and sweet)

Warnings: spoilers for some series, cursing, bit of sus wording and thoughts yknow

Stardew Valley

Sebastian (Sebby/Seb/Loml)

Can you tell that I'm a sucker for grumpy bf x sunshine gf tropes????

Honestly along with the reader insert fic in gonna write(lets hope I finish it) I wanna write maybe a Seb x OC or something idkidk

Of the bachelorettes Penny is my favorite bc shes lowkey me (I sometimes teach kids and I want to have a bunch of them love housewife vibes)

In ridgeside so far Phillip is my favorite mostly bc I don't know the others that well amd im only gifting 6 people at a time and he just so happened to get picked he's so cute I love it when people are passionate about something

In Stardew Valley Extended Victor is the loml like yeah he's a rich guy but he also seems like a huge nerd and I love him

Also Claire(the joja mart girl) my tired queen plus

Also in terms of the kids Yuuma>Jas>Vincent>Trinnie>Keahi

Mystic Messenger

At first I was a Zen girl

Then I was a Yoosung girl

Then I was a Jaehee girl

Then I was a Jumin girl

And now I'm in my final form as a Saeyoung girl

I love him so much my man my man

I played this game for MONTHS like I was at school pulling my phone out to hurry through a chat room so i didn't miss anything

Was waking up in the middle of the night

The chokehold these men had on my PLS

Five Nights At Freddy's

Ok so at first i hated this game bc im a crybaby and it scared me so bad

Also bc I had an intense fear of animatronics and people in the mascot suits as a kid after going to chuck e cheese and being terrified of the things om stage and then getting stuck in a ride its a whole thing omfg

But then security breach came out and I was like oh? Why'd they make the animatronics sexy????? So like the first couple of games I dont have a favorite(except i think Chica is ugly dont hate me) bc like theyre kid souls but since the sb animatronics arent ghost kids indo have a favorite

Which is Monty

I love him he is my gator man<3333 also justice for Foxy I know he would've been cute af.

Dead By Daylight

Killerwise Ghostface is my favorite

And I know its a basic bitch answer but omfg that man could be the cause of my demise and I would say thank you

Also Oni is cool

Also trickster is cute

Womanwise for killer the Artist is my favorite shes so pretty I love her

I hate specifically wesker and the twins I feel like i needed to add this BC I hate them so much also Freddy kreuger but like thats obvious bc its included in my rules

Survivors I love are Leon(again basic bitch answer) Jake Park, Dwight, and theres more but i cant remember r n

For women its Nea(I main her), Meg, Ada, Kate, Elodie, again theres more but I cant remember and my brain is hurting

I do not like feng min or whatsherface the kpop manager lady bc of how people play them

Twilight

Team Edward or Jacob?

I am an Emmett girl

I am also a Seth girl

They have been the loves of my life since the movies came out

When I read the books I liked Carlisle the most <3

Honestly twilight making a comeback was the best tike for me bc of all the new content people were making

I love the series pls

Also again Womanwise Rosalie is the loml

Also alice

Also Esme

Also Leah

Pls the women are so amazing

Harry Potter

Also lemme preface this by saying I do not agree with jkr or anything she has been saying

But I did get into this fandom a couple years ago when i was in high school because of a friend

And I do still love the series but now I only consume fanmade things

That being said Remis Lupin has my heart

Also Fred and George

And Cedric

And if anyone wanted to know my house I am a Hufflepuff<3

The Outsiders

Through and through I am a Dallas girl

Can yall tell my type yet?

When reading the book I was also a Johnny girl and I literally wanted the best for him and was so mad When he DID NOT GET IT

Now that I'm older that entire situation is bullshit

Like as a 22 year old that still lives with her family the thought of having to take care of myself plus younger siblings with no help and also have the house where everyone hangs out stresses me out

Like I love my little sister but i am so glad my parents have raised us to have and keep jobs even if we hate it bc I know she would help me with everything

Like I know Soda helped as much as he could but GOD bad situation for everyone

Johnny did not deserve the ending he got

The Walking Dead

Okay so lemme just say that I am into dilfs this is a dilf loving safe space idc

Rick can get it and him being lowkey insane is attractive (do not be like me pls)

Love his long hair

Also had a crush on Carl when he was in the show (he is a year older than me im not a creep)

I have not gotten to later seasons so maybe there are still cute people idk i need to re watch

I also hated Lori and Shane with a passion

I still do

I cannot imagine hooking up with my husbands friend of my friends husband or whateverbskkakslal

I will rant on and on about this it genuinely makes me mad

I do however love Maggie and Peggy(is this her name? The sister?) We love country girls

I am a Michonne simp through and through

I am a simple lady

Cool woman with sword? Count me in

Once Upon A Time

Though I hate Regina I find her so attractive its not even funny

When I was younger i had a huge crush on Peter Pan

Now rewatching I am a Captain Hook Simp

Also Mad Hatter

Also Ruby

Also Graham in season 1 if anyone remembers him

Gawd these men

Ruby number 1 IDC IDC

Also Mulan

PLEASE

I have also not gotten super far in this show

Marvel

I'm gonna just list my favorites bc like I already feel super exposed and im writing all of this in one go bc I am so excited to share but my phone is broken

So number one is Steve im so mad he went back to Peggy but at the same time he deserves happiness

Number two Bucky again im a basic girl and tragic men attract me idk

Peter loml so cute also the only spiderman movies ive seen dont kill me

Wanda love her still have not seen Multiverse of madness last thing i watched is wandavison

Loved pietro

Thor my bb

I cannot think of any more

Doctor Who

I guess this one is going to be different because I have only seen new who and I do not dislike any doctor at all so i guess imma just rank them

9th(watched his season twice once when I was younger and was just getting into the show and then once a couple years ago when I committed to watching the show)

11th

10th

12th

13th(I do not hate her I am just new to her bc I am still on her first season since i procrastinate to make the series last longer)

Then i guess I'll rank the companions bc again I dont really dislike anyone

Martha(best girl i love her so much)

Donna

Amy

Clara

Bill

Yasmine

River(literally going to name a kid River bc of how much i like the name)

Graham

Rose

Jack

Ryan

Nardole

Rory

Mickey

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

I have had a crush on this man since 2005

Since I was FOUR YEARS OLD

The first time i saw him I fell in love

No one will compare to my love

Hotch is a close second I do love my dom daddy(I am so sorry for saying this)

Penelope is also my love but in a platonic i would kill someone for her kind of way

Also Emily

White Lotus

Okay so lemme start by saying

Season 2 >season 1

The only people i like im season 1 are Tanya and Belinda

Everyone else are kind of dislikeable

Well the rich guys wife is fine but shes not my favorite

Season 2 however i like like half of the characters

Obviously Tanya is on the list bc she is so funny

But Ethan is my favorite especially later in the season bc again guys like that are my thing

Also Harper but mainly bc of Aubrey

Then Daphne is the loml and she deserves better

And Lucia my bb

And Valentina

And Albie even if he seems like a "nice guy"

Love these characters

WE HATE GREG IN THIS HOUSE

Ouran High School Host Club

Takashi Morinozuka has my entire heart love this man

Honey is just me but male

And Haruhi loml pls shes so cute but also she tries to be the best person I love her

Also Kasanoda(and in the manga the girl he ends up with is kinda cool)

This again should also just be a ranking bc i love all the characters but im gonna limit myself

Kuroshitsuji

Again imma give a basic bitch answer and say Sebastian

I know hes a demon

I know he would hate me bc duh

But pls sir

Give me one chance

Also the undertaker

Also Agni

Also snake and joker

Grelle would be my platonic soulmate shes so funny

I also would like to protect Ciel(not the twin like not the real ciel or whatever I mean our ciel)

Like I understand that he basically siccs his demon on people and had them killed

But at the same time in my eyes he is literally just a traumatized little boy and i feel so bad for him

I know hes fictional but if i could change what happened to him i would

Finny is baby

I have typed for too long pls

Also thank you for asking this<3 feel free to ask other things and request stuff!!

[transfemlogan]

yo do any of your sides have typing quirks 👀 wentz strikes me as someone who’d use leet speak (wentz is your creativity’s name right? sorry, trying to memorize all of them and struggling jajdjdjf) - @girlboypatton

Well i actually used 2 have a typing quirk (& still do), so when I used 2 type silly & strange, all my sides did 2

i typed liek diz !!11!!! Or svmtiemzz iid dovble mqii lttrzz & qdd rqndom qz evrywherezz

(I typed like this! Or sometimes id double my letters and add random qs everywhere)

My typing quirk has adapted in2 something more accessible 2 screenreaders, ppl w/ dyslexia, & other disabled ppl.

ANYWAY. Wentz (creativity) 100% uses a typing quirk occassionally and, quite literally, speaks little emoticons like xD and :3 (how does nya do that? Thats 4 woof 2 know & u 2 find out). It is a running joke in my Swapped AU, that cos uses random faces & c!Thomas is Terrified.

There is a very specific way scene kids typed back in the early 2000s & it was not leet speak (leet speak originated 4 hackers & evolved more 4 gamers, if i rmbr correctly), so Wentz doesn't use leet speak.

Wentzz typez liek DIZ x3 o3o probzz liek da way da author of mai immortal typd thru out da seriezz. Phull of miszpellz & bd grmmr & tking out rando lttrz cuz it waz KEWL xD (@ da tiem!) -_-;;

(Wentz types like this x3 o3o probs like the way the author of my immortal typed through out the series. Full of mispells and bad grammar and taking out rando letters because it was cool xD (at the time!) -_-;)

Memphis (egotism) doesn't necessarily use a typing quirk, in the way that word means now, but she does shorten every single word if she can (& even when she cant). Uses every abbreviation & acronym under the sun. He has things 2 do!!! Like.... continue 2 text & b on his phone.

Both him & wentz r probably the 2 ppl u do NOT want 2 text w/.

Memphis wll shrtn vrythng 2 spnd less time typng. probs uses LOL & OMG & TTYL in daily cnvrs. & hates making his wrds easier 2 read

(Memphis will shorten everything to spend less time typing. Probs uses LOL & OMG & TTYL in daily conversation. & hates making his words easier to read)

On the other hand, Wentz will gladly drop his scene speak 2 make his text accessible.

Maven doesn't like 2 text or call... or talk, or be around people, but when they do text they don't use a typing quirk, they're just always tired & it affects their writing. A million misspells and missing letters and— how did you even sleepily misclick so badly you ended up in the emojis??

& then everyone else is somewhat normal. They either type w/ 2 much punctuation (see: Melvin Compassion) or refuse to even respond 2 ur text message (see: Mercury Paranoia) or responds 2 all of ur msgs w/ some form of vulgarity & middle finger emojis (see: Maddox Impulse)

[djmousewife]

i really am despairing and just hopeless in a way that i genuinely dont think ive been before and its rlly fucking with me. like, by all acounts, i am More supported than i have been before, and thats almost part of the problem? i feel ungrateful for feeling So Bad. i don't do Anything, i dont attend uni, i dont write my essays, i dont have a job, i dont clean my flat, i dont rlly cook a lot. of the things that Have to happen so we can continue to live in this flat, or i can continue to access medical services so my life doesnt get worse: those things are often put off way past the last minute and i need a lot of support to do at all. also, rn my life is mostly just calling A Service TM, getting a bullshit response, complaining, calling again, finally getting through to someone who knows whats going on, complaining, rinse repeat. ITS EXHAUSTING! not only that but sitting every day in bed or at my desk refreshing tumblr or staring at my screen saver thinking to myself 'what am i going to do?' and coming to the conclusion of nothing because i have nothing to do, i enjoy nothing, i want nothing, i cant concentrate long enough on anything or process information well enough to do things Anyway. ykw its not even true i dont Want to do anything. i do. i Want to write my essays, on some level i am genuinely interested in the topics. i just Cant. i want to read. i've been pretty keen on reading complaint by sarah ahmed for a while now or maybe rereading whipping girl or even giving notes on suicide another go? but i cant make myself start because i Know that i wont get far and its so fucking depressing. im getting so high, the come down is genuinely distressing because of how scrambled and disorganised my brain becomes and i become so afraid i will be like that forever. and yet i do it EVERY DAY! im struggling extremely badly with some interpersonal shit that has completely destroyed any self esteem or confidence i had in my appearance and my worth. add onto that that i am a massive Massive financial drain and even if i wasnt our finances are just.. Bad? so i was like, ok, fssw time again, that wont be too bad, i can do that. and then i fucking set up by whore phone and downloaded the grindr apk (and it was fucking horrible and evil to do and i hate that evil horrible useless phone) (also did u know u need to send in id for age verification on google now? 101 internet safety says to not do that are u crazy?) and started getting dms and i wanted to cry i got so overwhelmed. like idk if i can do it, but like.. i kinda gotta? idk man. im trying to see things positively? like, i got the form for the work capability assessment and spent all of yesterday photocopying medical letters which detail diagnoses and assessments and reference hospitilisations, etc but also the dwp are evil so who knows if its enough? im trying to get my pip reevaluated but they havent even sent me the Form for that yet? so again! who! knows! i feel like im in beurocracy hell and i cant leave? my uni are trying to work with me, but multuple medical professionals have told me to interrupt or drop out and like if people who are meant to be like have something in your life to keep you going dont think i can do it, what chance do i have of Actually doing it? i dont know what to do anymore.

[arisatominakos]

i want your gif making lore. 7, 9, 17, 15, 20, 26, 40, 45, and 49!

dfkjaj LORE REQUEST RECEIVED

7. Who are your top 3 gif makers

ohmans thats hard khfdsa. i actually am big fans of a lot of gifmakers out there that i dont follow but i see their stuff all the time in the tags & rb from them etc etc. but like i do follow a lot of folks who’s stuff i rlly enjoy and are folks that tend to inspire me. its a bit unfair to list just three so fkjsdha uhh @aartyom  @eurodynamic @onewingedangels @preciousgyro @entreri @marogarreh @thequantumranger @trident

9. What/who inspired you to start making gifs

i dont fully remember, i think a mix of just fandom stuff w/ friends & rp blogs. i do remember it was a hellacious journey until i could figure it out and since then i just have tried to keep improving or learning new things etc etc.

17. 10 sets, 8 sets, 6 sets? How many gifs to you prefer in a set

this is VERY dependent on the set im making at the time. i try to avoid like sets with a lot of images bc i get very tired with the task. but some stuff like i try to do between 2-5 so it looks nice in a post.

15. Have you ever had gifs stolen and reposted

constantly. usually its my avan gifs or star trek gifs. which is like the major reason i dont do them anymore or do a lot of non-video game slash anime sets. i tend to confront the person or ask them to take it down & it goes as well as you expect half the time: not the best. the worst time was a rp blog stealing all my avan gifs, not aware i was in the same rp circles so like tons of mutuals( most shared between the two of us ) notified me & they blocked me on said blog so i had to message them from my personal + other blogs i had at the time as well as said mutuals spoke with them as well before they took them down. it was a very frustrating day.

20. Mac or PC

i have experience with both mac & pc, however my default is my pc which is built for gaming. i’ve had mac laptops in the past via my older sister who would give me her school handmedowns. as far as specifically creating art gifs what have you, i have no preference between the two.

26. How many un posted sets are in your drafts right now

sO I KNOW A LOT OF PPL DO THAT WHERE THEY MAKE STUFF AND SAVE IT IN DRAFTS BUT IM DKSJHA i just i dont have the like mental fortitude to make something and not post it soon after. back when i was doing rp stuff & writing i used my drafts very heavily for wips & i sorta do that w/ gifsets in a way. as i make them i have a opened draft to upload each one to see how they look on tumblr, if they upload correctly, & to check coloring between my main monitor secondary monitor & phone as well so i make sure colors are good theres no washes etc. so usually if there is something in the drafts im currently working on it or its about to be posted so there are zero things in my drafts other than this ask kfsha

40. Why do you make gifs

good question. no clue. fkjhdsa but its fun & i enjoy it. its also just fun to share my interests in a way that can be shared by other people in reblogs etc. reading the tags of my sets & seeing ppls reactions or just opinions or whatever is just it rlly makes it. I Make Gifs For The People.

45. Ever gotten hate over a set

i’ve had ppl disrespect me bc of a gifset but ive never gotten hate persay. i do get a lot of bitchy people upset about my “do not repost or remove caption.” that i add to my posts which like i tend to ignore. realistically i cant stop ppl from doing such but it has helped so i keep doing it. usually i get a comment on said set they reblogged that day or in the tag but ive gotten 1 ask once about it & it was p funny. but proper hate with a valid reason ? nah.

49. How much would you say you’ve improved since you first started giffing

oH SO MUCH LOL. from coloring, to timing of the frames, to composition, to typography, to quality. the more i make the better i get. && there are things i want to redo to see how much i’ve improved. im not using the best tools to make these, but i’ve seen my improvement i’ve seen how much better i am & it’s rlly nice to be able to visually see your growth.

                                     /  GIFMAKER ASKS

[starspaceace]

alright! until 6.55 in a week and it adds the worst fish of the expansion to catch my list of fish i need to catch still in xiv can be contained in a single screenshot

im just gonna complain under the read more about each of them. i have beef with these fish im rambling but i want it out there

cinder surprise fucking sucks bc you can see that the next time it is available is 4 hours from screenshot which is like at 350 am. the next time after that is like 1130 9 days later i literally put it in my calendar on my phone. i have to do this to remind myself of the reasonable times to catch this thing like what the fuck is this ????

i have caught ealad skaan but i keep it on the list. as a reminder. one of ffxiv's worst fish and i have it by some miracle

aster trivi is just straight catch thats got some annoying timing but not as bad as cinder surpise as an example

celestial is a weird one bc it also has weird timing but the way the weather works its either available for a 2 minute window or a 23 minute window. the 23 one doesnt help i still havent gotten it

lancetfish you fucking menace you can never catch two mora tecta to pop the requirements for it in one window so youve gotta try and get one in a window before it and it sucks i hate this guy ive never gotten the intuition for it its complicated and its also a notorious one. ill just have to tough it out and afk in the area for it for periods of time to get a chance to get it. it'll probably be one of the last ones i get if i manage to be able to get it before dawntrail

pearl sucks but its just a mooch cycle i cant seem to get it in

ambling sucks bc the lizard you need to catch to mooch it i can never catch it sucks

maru crab is like aster trivi not as annoying i just havent caught it yet

charibert also like that sucks but lower on the list of the fish i hate

the last 4 are just more common ones i havent gotten for some reason or another. not for lack of trying as of late since theyre last on the list but like theyre all available right after another and for some reason they elude me

i dont know how many fish the .55 update adds but theyre gonna be a pain in the ass and ill also have to update my gear at some point but i will get it. my rarest achievements in game are fishing ones now

[sara-joseph]

Day count blog 2!!!

So, yeah. This one's for 2023. It's 2nd jan, but 2:40 am. New year wishes from everyone, INCLUDING JIN! hobi performing at times square. 1064 days more, we'll wait.

3rd Jan,2023. 1063 days more, we'll wait.

7th Jan, 2023. Started finals. 1059 days more, we'll wait.

28th Jan,2023. It's been days since I've updated. Got over with my finals, and my eldest cousin got engaged. Been busy tbh. Vibe is out, yoongi is the ambassador for Valentino, jimin for Dior, hobi for lv, and Joon for bonnetta? Looks like all the fashion brands are out to snatch the members after their contract with lv ended. Anyways, gues what. THIS BITCH JUST GOT TICKETS FOR A FUCKING CONCERT SCREENING. future me, pls know that I wasn't so hyper irl. 1038 more days, and we'll fucking wait

4th Feb, 2023. Yeah i had to give a 100-word update on how amazing the concert was, but guess what, this unlucky ass didn't get to go. I got hit with chickenpox, isolated for 10 days, just 3 days before the screening. Guess i gotta wait for 2025 now then. Anyways sorrow aside, i looked into jhopes photo folio trailer, and I'm like, who is this woman? IT WAS HOBI. yeah, i died. The fucking long hair i- i just cant-. Hobis birthday, his photo folio, PJM1, everything at once in Feb along with my brother's marriage, me going to gangtok. Oh dear lord. 1031 days more, we'll wait. Edit - (cause i forgot to add this) jk went live , 2 DAYS IN A ROW. breaking the radio silence since jins enlistment. And he's hot. He fucking sang UNHOLY, RIP TO ME. he even sang wildflower, vive , dreamers, oh god Jk, you're gonna be the death of us.

15th February, 2023, fuck that person who created valentine's day. Yoongis tour is announced 😭 anyways, 1020 days more, we'll wait

26th February, 2023. Messed up week. I got betrayed by the person who I really trusted in. Phone got taken away, had a big fight with my parents and all the crap. End of the week, I'm left with severe trust issues, a taken away phone, parents who hate me, and a lot more. Our boys have been doing very well I assume. Jimin is coming back with PJM1 this March, and yoongis gone cherry for this photo folio. 1009 days more, we'll wait

1st march, 2023. hobi has officially announced that hes gonna enroll. JUNGKOOK THAT MF DELETED HIS INSTA. and on top of that, the saseng threats. my insta got disabled, and i cant even seem to find a mail from them. oh how great this week is. this too shall pass, and in the mean while, we'll wait.

3rd March,2023. Bruhhhhhh jimin for Tiffany. I'm dead- I fell sick today, no really. Jakaisjskaka 1004 days more, we'll wait.

7th march,2023 and MY INSTA IS FINEEEEEE. i just finished blocking and unfollowing all the people i know, ive got no followers and im following only 7 people, bangtan and bighit (JK, FUCK YOU but i love you more than myself soooo) we're correctly at 1000 days now!!!!!!! we'll waitttt.

8th march,2023 and jimin is on the vogue cover, fuck my life. im teling you, if i end up not burning down all the schools in the world, please reward me with something, cause i just cant- 999 days more, we'll wait.

17th March, 2023 and set me free pt.2 mv is out. I gotta rant out about it, so imma post another thing on it. But I died, no kidding. One more post, for my fucked up life on how I got caught reading smut. Anyways, pd bang si hyuk says "we said we hope there will be a BTS comeback, not will" but who gives a fuck. I trust them, and they asked us to wait, so 990days more, we'll wait.

30 March, oof that was a long ass gap. A lot happened, i got my spectacles and now I'm taking treatment for 8 days, and I'm missing PTA week for it, thank you mom. Buttttt, FACE IS OUT AND THE SKIN- I- 977 days more, we'll wait.

4th April, 2023. Now idk if I have to weep over hobi leaving, or hobi tryna calm us down by posting, or maybe i should scream over jin posting, or jin and jimin fighting in hobis comment section, or should I desperately wait for ck to release jks pics, or swoon over rm in Bottega vennetta. Orrrrr i should just hold a seperate day count of yoongis d-day. After all this, i can just say,974 days more, we'll wait.

April 16th, 2023. I've started in a completely new account, WOW. but jk at Coachella?! And he's planned his us visit accordingly so he can be back to send off hobi🥺 Tae's new song, D-Day, and all. Anndddddd, my brother is now officially married. AND IM LEAVING FOR GANGTOK IN LIKE LESS THAN A WEEK FROM NOW. I'm sitting here and posting this while i have a math and bio exam tomorrow, god save me, guys pray for me. 960 days more, we'll wait.

April 18th, 2023. Hobi left like todayyy. Dear lord please keep him safe. the concept pics for d-day made me choke, like wtfff. 958 days more, we'll wait.

April 25th, 2023. im back from my 5 day school trip and dday is out. ngl, i still have to take a look at it. tae and jk attended dreams premiere, what makes it better is that tae knows psj from wooga and jk is the forever fanboy of IU. Moonbin passed, and even tho idk him, i genuinely feel bad that this is how life ends for some people. rm is back on Suchwita, and now 951 days more, we'll wait.

28th April, and just like, what the fuck. cause i may be late in saying this, but jk and tae attending the vip premiere for dream and his live right after? alsoo, jimin and rm are attending the met gala, each as their brands ambassadors. so you're telling me, that jimin is going to attend the tiffany event with ranbir singh, the met gala with rm, and is gonna come perform tony montana at yoongi's d-day? WOW. d-day japan is gonna be screened live in theatresssss, IM SCREAMING- hopefully i get to go this time. Also, that canadian actor who passed, bro, like rip. idk why he made such avid decisions, like no doubt jimin is handsome as fuck, but im sure he was also as handome, and good in character. anyways, 948 days more, we'll wait.

29th April, 2023. So jimin is attending tiffany's event with ranveer singh, the met gala with rm as the global ambassador of tiffany and dior, and is performing in d-day. which brings me to like, WTF YOONGI. his concert, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I COULD GIVE MY WHOLE LIFE TO HIM AND WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR- 947 days more, we'll wait.

1st May, 2023. Bruh, yoongs really got ARMY to bark at his concert. And jimin- im gonna cry i swear-. 945 days more, we'll wait.

5th may, 2023. Dude, that whole Canadian actor is shi. HE DOES NOT EXIST! wow, AI these days. i just hope bighit provides Bangtan with a little more security or something. cause like, sasaengs are getting out of hand now. at his house?! Suga at the Fallon show thoo. 941 days more, we'll wait.

15th may, 2023. yea, its been 10 days since i updated. i have been to ooty and now to mumbai, yes, in 10 days. im rewatching moon lovers again, idk wtf is wrong with me. but like we're getting closer, 931 days more, and we'll fucking wait.

19th may, 2022. brooo, if this whole tae and jennie thingie is real, i totally support. i mean- its their life, and they're cute so- iv'e also been watching the bts reels on insta lately, and im telling this all over again, I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. 927 days more, we'll wait.

1st june, 2023. i havent updated in a looooong time. just been busy. BUT not busy enough to not know what is happenning in the world. SILVER BLONDE TAEHYUNG IS BACK. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. i- i just cant- Also, yoongi is doing so well in his world tour. RM's new mv with Colde, Hobi is the assistant instructor, JIMIN HAS BROKEN THE GUINNES WORLD RECORD, and JK dancing to super on his live. WOW. but best of all, *drumroll* 11 MORE DAYS TO BTSFESTA 2023, AND ITS THE 10TH ANNIVERSARY, AND "TAKE TWO" IS GONNA BE OUT. 914 days more, we'll wait.

10th June, 2023. 2 more days till festa, and yesterday take two was released. I haven't even watched it yet cause of my studies. I hate thissss. 905 days more, we'll wait.

15th june, 2023. Im shit, i didn't even update on the 10th anniversary. but i will soon. also, beyond the scenes, the book is set to release on july 9th ig😭 i swear- it's army's 10th anniversary. anyways 900 more days, we'll wait.

[chiyohsrifle]

can always count on my parents and sister to remind me it is in fact hell living with them :)

[ficsforeren]

What happened to all TLS headcannons? I cant see them anywhere 😭😭😭

They're on The Last Song's masterlist but for some reason, I couldn't add more links, so I'll move everything to this ask:

How Rockstar!Eren and the Reader fight in The Last Song series

Headcanons for Empire (Eren’s band in The Last Song)

Eren, Jean and Reiner read Thirst Tweets

Rockstar!Eren's bdsmtest.org's results

How I imagine Rockstar!Eren to look like

How I imagine Model!Armin to look like in The Last Song

Model!Mikasa and Rockstar!Eren in The Last Song

Rockstar!Eren’s Tattoo

Rockstar!Eren in real life

Music Playlist for The Last Song (Rockstar!Eren fic)

The Last Song’s NSFW Links

More rockstar!eren's NSFW Links

Rockstar!Eren’s Red Carpet Looks

Eren and Armin’s Daily Outfits in The Last Song

Hero as Rockstar!Eren

How I imagine Rockstar!Eren’s body to look like in The Last Song

Empire's reaction at winning a grammy award

when rockstar!eren is jealous

how eren fucks the reader

Roleplay Scene: Model X Photographer

Rockstar!Eren during his high school days

If Rockstar!Eren actually got a twitter account

a lazy day with rockstar!eren

rockstar!eren's reaction when you're going into labor

do empire boys hang out often outside of work?

hc for porco, pieck and y/n's relationship

how eren and armin would feel about having a threesome with y/n

The Last Song's edit and aesthetic mood boards

Rockstar!Eren's reaction to y/n crushing on k-pop idols

Empire boys getting cancelled

Rockstar!eren's masturbation hcs

rockstar!eren's first wet dream

junior high rockstar!eren daydreams about marrying you

rockstar!eren during aftercare

rockstar!eren fell in love for the first time

Empire's memes

More Empire's memes

Rockstar!Eren's TikTok videos

this man legit looks like rockstar!eren

model!armin in bed

rockstar!eren and IRL celebrities

what would've happened if reader told eren he kissed her when they were young?

my version of y/n

harry styles and empire's collab

rockstar eren fanart made by @j0livi0ni

how rockstar eren and model armin looks like in my head

smutty rockstar!eren visual Part 1

smutty rockstar!eren visual Part 2

rockstar!eren's reaction to y/n singing his song

eren's reaction for not being your number one top artist on spotify wrapped

does rockstar!eren hate his job?

the last song's book cover made by @blanccofiie

how rockstar!eren looks like with his new hair in TLS chapter 16

rockstar!eren asking y/n's parents about marrying their daughter

ranking TLS men based on if they'll let you peg them

model!armin reads thirst tweets

Eren's spotify wrapped

Eren and Y/N texting each other

eren's reaction to empire boys making jokes

what if y/n died instead of rockstar eren?

how rockstar eren kisses

rockstar eren scolding a fan who was about to give him her v-card

rockstar eren finding out about yn's steamy video with pieck

rockstar eren reading his fans' fanfictions

y/n telling rockstar eren that she used to date girls

rockstar eren's net worth

what would have happened if rockstar confessed his feelings to yn in college?

Levi Headcanons in TLS

how rockstar eren cuddles

rockstar eren's memes

how famous is rockstar eren?

rockstar eren in a maid costume

rockstar eren’s reaction about his sexuality

will rockstar eren date someone else if yn dates another man?

is rockstar eren an aggressive driver?

rockstar eren's reaction to yn's toxic boyfriend

rockstar eren and anal sex

rockstar eren's pets

rockstar eren's reaction at yn wanting to get fucked on the hood of his car

how wild is empire's concert?

what do eren and y/n call each other in their phone contacts?

what would a documentary of empire be like?

which empire boys jerk off the most?

what if reader interviews Eren on a show?

Rockstar Eren wearing timothee's Oscar 2022 outfit

rockstar eren had to do a photoshoot with a kiss mark on his neck and his wife gave it to him

rockstar eren likes being babied by reader

details on jean and reiner's sex life

rockstar eren waking up after having passionate sex during their fwb days

rockstar eren's reaction at yn getting harassed by his fangirls

is rockstar eren intimidating?

dad armin headcanons

did yn fall into depression after eren's death?

empire fans ship eren and jean

why did eren still engage in one night stands after reuniting with yn?

More headcanons for Rockstar Eren can be read in my Eren Multiverse HCs here!

[ninjas-go-round]

Hi! This is just a little bit late, but here is my contribution to the @ninjago-valentine-exchange! I was Polyninja A!

I apologize for any weird formatting errors/spelling/grammar. I wanted to get this out since it’s already a little late lol. I will go back an fix those things, as well as post to AO3 tomorrow :)

AO3 link here

Title: Reunions

Word Count: 4012

Warnings: none.

Summery: Ever since Wu had gone missing, the ninja had been nothing but go-go-go. For months, they had been separated, sent across missions to all the far flung corners of ninjago. After such a long time, Cole is looking forward for a chance to take a break and have some much deserved time with his partners.

“Cole. Cole. Cooooole! Hurry UP!” Jay hops impatiently from one foot to the other. “We’re gonna be late!!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Chill out man it’s not like they’re gonna leave if we don’t get there right on time.”

“Okay yeah maybe but I don’t want to be late. It's been so long. We need to get moving.”

“Okay okay, I get it but we’re not gonna be late okay? Promise. We’re already running ahead of schedule,”

“Cole,” Jay gives him a pointed look. There is a frustration in his tone that Cole is all too familiar with. They often clashed about timeliness, and it seems his nonchalant attitude about the situation was once again starting to stress his partner out.

Since the last thing Cole wants is for Jay to start stressing, he relents and picks up the pace a little. Jay was right about one thing at least. It would suck to lose out on even a single moment of time. There already wasn’t enough of it to go around. Besides, he himself had been looking forward to this for a very long time. It was worth getting there a few extra minutes early for once.

In the end they reach their destination a good hour before their planned meeting time. Which would have been fine, if it weren't for the fact they could not check into their hotel because Zane had forgotten to add either of their names to the reservation. Even Jay pulling the ‘we’re famous’ card was not enough. The desk clerk was polite but firm in telling them that just because they were famous, didn’t mean they could break policy. If they wanted, they could either rent a separate room. Otherwise they would have to wait for Zane to arrive.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Cole groans, sinking into one of the hotel lobby’s many couches. Jay joins him, phone already in hand.

“Give me a minute, I’m gonna see where they’re at,” He mutters, typing furiously. A moment later Cole’s phone pings. He pulls it out to see Jay has sent a message to the group chat.

Zaptrap: we are here, hotel staff hates us :( cant check in till u get here

Frosty: Why do the staff hate you? Did something happen?

MountainMan: jay is overexaggerating they dont hate us

u didn’t put either of us on the res

so we cant get in unless ur here or we get another room

Zaptrap: eta? we dont have any money for another room

MasterofFIYA: Bro what the hell did you spend all your money on

Zaptrap: irrelevant

just tell us when ur gonna get here

Frosty: We are a couple hours out still. Kai had a late morning. I apologize for the delay. I will call the hotel and see if I can get it fixed. If not I will send you enough to cover a second room. Please be more responsible with your money, though.

MountainMan: k thanks

you're the best <3

cant promise about the money as long as Jay is here tho

Zaptrap: :( not fair it’s not my fault you read the train schedule wrong and we had to spend all our money on last minute tickets (thanks zane, love you! you're a savior)

Frosty: You’re welcome.

MountainMan: we would have had enough

if u hadn’t bought those action figures

Zaptrap: they were limited edition!

and for the record I blame this room situation on Kai. If u had gotten up on time then this wouldn't be a problem cause you'd be here already

MasterofFIYA: HEY I am innocent! I’m on leave I deserve the chance to sleep in

MountainMan: Jay is just sad cause he misses you

MasterofFIYA: awww babe I miss you too

If you missed me that much why didn’t you just say so?

Zaptrap: COLE HOW DARE YOU OUT ME LIKE THAT

It's true tho I miss you both so hurry up

I don’t want to wait any longer

Frosty: We will do our best to get there quickly.

MountainMan: sounds good

love you all, see you soon

MasterofFIYA: <3

Zaptrap: <3

Frosty: <3

It’s only a few minutes before the chat pings again, this time Zane informs them that they should just go ahead and get their own room, and that he would transfer them the money. Cole lets out a little sigh of relief. Praise Zane and his patience for putting up with them.

————————————————————————————

“Room, check!” Jay drops his bag on the floor, flopping heavily across the bed of their newly acquired room. “So what now? Watch bad hotel tv until they get here?”

“Well if that’s what you want to do, be my guest. I think I’m gonna check out the town.” Cole muses, setting his own bag aside. “I'm too ansty right now to just sit around and wait for them.”

“Hmm okay. Give me a chance to shower and I’ll come with you.”

“Sure thing babe. I was thinking I needed to change and get cleaned up a little before heading back out anyways,”

“Thanks,” Jay smiles. He pulls Cole down to give him a peck on the lips before he stands back up. “I shouldn’t be long,”

The two of them separate to begin sorting themselves out. Jay collects his bag and disappears into the bathroom. Cole starts working to remove his shoes. Once free of those, he swaps his gi for a more casual hoodie and jeans. Next comes his hair. He pulls it out of the bun he’d pulled it into earlier. Most of the time it stays pulled back, away from where it could pose a problem for his visibility or where an enemy might be able to use it to their advantage. Today he didn’t see that being much of a concern so he elects to leave it down.

Satisfied, Cole returns to his previous spot on the bed to wait for Jay. The blue ninja was true to his word and it's only a few minutes before he steps out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go.

“Ready?” He asks. Cole nods in return. Together, they make their way down to the main lobby and out onto the street. It’s there that Jay decides to link their hands together, leading them away towards the town center.

For a supposedly small town in the middle of nowhere, Cole noted that things seemed surprisingly lively. Merchant booths strung with brightly colored flags line the streets, selling what looks to be just about everything under the sun. There are all sorts of delicious smells wafting through the air, enticing him to stop and look for the source. Music can be heard coming from what he assumes is the town square, which evidently seems to be where most of the people here are headed.

It’s a completely unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome change of pace.

The two of them spend a good chunk of time just wandering, checking out the various shops and booths. He finds that there isn’t anything in particular that catches his interest, so Cole is content to let Jay lead the way.

“Oooh Cole, do you think Kai and Zane will want to play festival games with us?” Jay asks sometime later. He gestures to a row of booths containing carnival games. “That could be fun. Oh! Maybe we should go over there now and win some prizes for them! As a little ‘We missed you’ gift.”

“The sentiment is nice, but you do know those things are totally rigged, right?”

“They aren't when I’m playing them,”

“What is that even supposed to mean you bolthead?”

“I dunno, it sounded cool and mysterious,”

“That’s the dumbest thing I have ever heard,”

“Rude!” Jay gasps. “Bet you won’t be saying that when I win all the cool prizes and don’t give any to you,”

“Somehow I don’t think I’ll be missing out on much. Like I said, they’re totally rigged,”

“Are not! I’ll prove it. You pick whichever game you want and I’ll win. If I win, then you do all my chores for a week. If I lose, then…I don’t know yet but I’ll think of something.”

“Wow, such a motivating offer,” Cole snorts. Too bad they didn’t have time for that. “As much as I love proving you wrong, I think I’m gonna pass this round.”

“Aw you’re no fun. It’s only going to take a minute! Come on,” Jay gives him a hopeful puppy dog look. If this were any ordinary outing, he would not have been able to resist it. But today wasn’t any ordinary outing.

“Later, Bluebird. Did you forget-Gagh!” He is interrupted by a sudden and unexpected weight on his back. Instinctually, he reaches back to grab at what (or who) was attacking him. His hand lands on an arm and with one swift move he flips the would-be assailant over his shoulder. They land on the ground with a heavy thud. Once Cole can see who it is, it takes less than a second to realize his mistake.

“Kai, oh my god! I’m so sorry, you startled me! Are you okay?” Cole scrambles to help Kai to his feet while Jay laughs hysterically in the background.

“Urrrgh, not cool man.” Kai groans, rubbing his back. “That hurt. But I’ll live. Some way to greet the boyfriend you haven't seen in three months,”

“Dude! You just tried to sneak up on a Ninja!” Jay wheezed. “What did you think was gonna happen?”

“Can’t I have a cute surprise reunion with my partners?” Kai crosses his arms defensively.

“No,” Cole and Jay say simultaneously.

“I told you that was a bad plan,” A cool voice sounds from somewhere behind them. “You should be well aware of Cole’s combat reflexes at this point. His reaction should not come as a surprise.”

All three of them turn their attention to the source, and Cole is delighted to see a tall, dark figure making his way towards them.

“ZANE!” Jay starts towards him and then pauses, waiting for the subtle nod of permission. Once it is given, he launches himself excitedly towards the nindroid.

“Jay! It is good to see you!” Zane catches him with outstretched arms, spinning the two of them in a circle. The instant his feet are back on the ground, Jay pulls Zane down into a sweet kiss.

“That is disgustingly adorable,” Kai huffs. “Also totally unfair. Where’s my kiss?”

“Oh, is someone feeling left out?” Cole teases. “Why don’t you c’mere and I’ll fix that for you?”

“I can’t possibly refuse an offer like that, now can I? Even if you did just toss me onto the ground.”

“Hey! That was an accident, and arguably, entirely your fault.”

“It still hurt! Maybe if you kiss it better..."

“If you insist,”

Cole takes Kai’s hand, bringing it up so that he can press a soft kiss to the inside of his wrist. He moves in to press another to his jaw, then his cheek. Kai’s eyes are wide when Cole pulls back a little. It’s far from the first time they’ve done this, but that doesn’t stop the blush forming across Kai’s face or the racing of his own heart. There is a moment's pause, and then Kai is bridging the gap between them.

His lips are softer than usual, but just as warm and just as addicting as Cole remembered them. For once, Kai does not try to take control. (Which is fine by him. There would be plenty of time for that later.) Instead he melts into the bigger ninja’s embrace, humming contentedly.

A string of silent ‘I love you’s’ and ‘I miss you’s’ pass between them. The two of them have long since moved past the need to say such things out loud. He can feel it in the way Kai���s arms wind around his neck, warm and gentle but desperate all the same. He knows Kai can feel it in the way his entire body relaxes, relishing in the warmth the other provides.

“Better?” Cole murmurs, pressing their foreheads together.

“Much,” Kai grins.

“Good to hear,” He smiles back, before breaking away. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Jay making impatient gestures at them. “Now, as much as I’m loving this, I think there is someone else here who very much wants to say hello,”

Kai turns, eyes landing on Jay. Cole takes another step back and Jay wastes no time taking his place. He takes Kai’s hands in his own, practically vibrating in excitement.

“Guess what Zane just told me?” He singsongs.

“Oh No.” Kai’s face pales.

“Oh yes. You and I have a date with the ice rink tonight baby.” Jay grins wildly. He does not give Kai much of a chance to protest before grabbing his hand and hauling him in what Cole assumes is the general direction of the ice rink.

“Jay! Wait! What about the others…” Kai protests weakly. It’s nothing more than the barest of attempts though. If Kai really didn’t want to go, he would not be letting Jay drag him away so willingly.

“They’ll catch up,” Jay assurse, sparing a quick glance in their direction. Zane nods, winking conspiratorially.

“You go have fun. We will be along shortly,”

“You had a hand in this. I blame you if I break any bones,” Kai huffs, but he is smiling. He gives Zane one last look of fake disapproval before he and Jay disappear into the crowd.

“Somehow, I don’t think he’s really that upset by this development,” Cole observes, stepping forward so he is side by side with Zane.

“I would not disagree with that statement.” Zane replies.

“Do you think we should follow them?”

“Eventually. Give them their time. Kai has been missing Jay fiercely, far more than you or I. Let them have their time, and we can join up with them later.”

“Makes sense considering Jay is the only one who didn’t have a chance to go see him after he was pulled from the roster.” Cole turns to Zane with a smile. “Can’t really complain anyways, because it means I get to spend time with you!”

“Time with you is always well spent, I agree. Is there anything specific you’d like to do?”

“There was a music stand back there that looked like it had some good stuff. Wanna go check it out with me?”

“I would love to,” Zane smiled, gesturing for Cole to lead the way.

The two of them head towards the music booth, where Cole picks out a couple of records which Zane then purchases for him as a gift. They stop to play a few of the games that Jay had pointed out earlier. To nobody’s surprise, they didn't win any prizes. A small dance troupe is performing in a park, so they stop to watch. It’s the most relaxed Cole has felt in ages.

Eventually, they find themselves standing at the edge of the town center. They had planned to find some kind of table or bench to sit for a bit, but it was even busier here than it was near the main festival street. Even with the copious amounts of cafe seating and random benches, they had not been able to find anywhere. Instead they had found themselves standing at the edge of the plaza. It was a little quieter here, and allowed them to take a little breather and chat while still being within viewing distance of the rink.

“So did you know that there was a festival happening here or was that just a coincidence?” Cole finds himself asking.

“I will confess I may have picked this rendezvous point on purpose. There were other places that would have been acceptable, but I remembered that this town had the most delightful winter festival and thought we could all use a break. It has been a rough few months for everyone.” His partner admits.

Cole follows Zane’s gaze over to the ice rink, where Jay was unsuccessfully attempting to convince Kai to let go of the wall. The freshly healed scar cutting across Kai’s face was still jarring to look at, and it was a painful reminder of just how dangerous their lives were. It was exhausting, to be constantly worried about his team. It was constantly weighing on him, now more than ever.

All the more reason to cherish this rare time off together.

“I can’t argue with you there. Things have been difficult. I know I needed the break. Not to mention the fact that I missed you. I love Jay to the moon and back but you know how he gets on my nerves. Some days all I want to do is rip my hair out in frustration.”

“Yet you love him all the same. As much as he means to me, I’m not sure I would be so patient,” Zane chuckles, smiling softly at him. “I have missed you as well. I have been looking forward to these few days immensely,”

“I still can’t believe you managed to swing this.”

“I traded Lloyd. Told him I would cover prison break duty and he’s taking my city patrol,”

“That kid is just non-stop. Probably a good thing he’s back in Ninjago City, things have been slow there. He needs the break as much as the rest of us,”

“What you might call a ‘win-win’ situation. Lloyd is finally taking a break, I get to work with Kai for the foreseeable future, and I get to have quality time with all my partners for the first time in almost half a year,”

“Speaking of which, now that I have you all to myself...” Cole turns, sliding his hands up Zane’s arms until they rest on his shoulders. “Can I…?”

“Kiss me? Of course my dear.”

Cole wastes no time, surging up to press his lips to Zane’s. The kiss is brief, but that doesn’t stop him from relishing in the metallic taste of Zane’s lips.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Cole sighs as he pulls away.

“Hmmm I imagine it would be since the day I last saw you, which coincidentally, is how long I have been wanting it as well,” Zane wraps his arms around his waist, pulling him close.

“Okay so maybe you do know,” Cole concedes. They stay that way for a few moments before Zane speaks.

“May I kiss you again?”

“I’d like that, yeah,”

The second time, it lasts a little longer and Zane holds him a little tighter. Cole shivers. The master of ice was always cold, and the chill in the air only made it colder. It's not exactly comfortable but he doesn’t mind. He’s missed this too much to care about a little chill.

“I love you so much,” Zane pulls away, brushing a loose strand of hair out of his face.

“Right back at you. Don’t tell the others, but I think I missed you the most,”

“I’m honored to hear that,” Zane’s gaze drifts back towards the ice rink. “Now that I think about it, do you think we should go join them?”

“Mmmm no, I’ll leave the wobbling across ice to Kai. I wanna spend a little more time with you,” Cole scans the area, eyes landing on a cider booth. “Let’s go get drinks. By the time we get through the line, Jay will probably have given up on trying to teach Kai. If not, I’m sure he’ll be glad for rescue,”

“That sounds like an excellent plan,” He offers his arm, and Cole takes it eagerly. It’s not often that Zane is so affectionate. He’s going to take advantage of it while he can.

They chat about nonconsequential things while they wait. Cole talks about some of the cool places he and Jay have visited. Zane tells him of a new cookbook he picked up and the recipes he is hoping to try from it. The entire time they do not let go of each other. In fact, they only seem to press closer, trading linked arms for twined fingers and brushed shoulders. It reminds him of their first date. He doesn’t want this moment to end.

The moment does, unfortunately, come to an end when they pick up their drinks and Cole realizes he needs both his hands. He lets out a disappointed little sigh.

“Don’t look too upset,” Zane gives him a little peck on the forehead. “There will be plenty more time for hand holding and such later,”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Cole agrees. He takes two of the four cups, following Zane back towards the rink.

“Hey!” he calls out. Kai and Jay both turn their attention to him. He holds up the drinks. “We come bearing gifts!”

Kai is more than glad for the rescue, scrambling as fast as his poor skating skills would let him get off the ice. Jay follows closely behind, laughing the whole way. Cole and Zane meet them near the exit.

“You guys are my heroes!” Kai exclaims. He eagerly takes the drink Zane offers him. “I thought that was never going to end.”

“Aw come on,” Jay pouts. “ Don’t lie. You had a great time.”

A soft look crosses Kai’s face, and he nods. “Yeah. Yeah I did.”

The two of them share a look so full of emotion that Cole could not possibly hope to understand it. Then, the moment passes and they return their attention to their other two companions.

“So what’s the plan?” Jay takes his drink from Zane.

“There isn’t one.” Cole shrugs.

“Perhaps a break?” Zane suggests. “It was a long travel day for us, as I am sure it was for you.”

“I second that plan!” Kai agrees. “My feet feel like they are going to fall off. I haven’t walked this much in ages.”

Cole finds himself nodding along. He is suddenly reminded of how rough he and Jay had been traveling, and how far they had needed to come to get here. He is tired.

Not long after, they find themselves squeezed onto a bench that is realistically far too small for four people. Cole sits on one end, Kai next to him. Jay is pressed up against Kai, to the point he is practically on Kai’s lap. Zane sits on Jay’s other side, struggling not to fall off.

It’s not exactly comfortable, but Cole didn’t mind. For him, what matters most is the warms of Kai up against his side, Jay’s fingers locked with his, the sound of Zane’s laughter. He had missed this dearly. A little bit of discomfort was a small price to pay.

“I’m really glad we were able to come here.” Jay sighs, downing the rest of his drink. “I was starting to think we’d never all be in the same place at the same time ever again.”

“I know how you feel,” Kai murmurs. “It’s been such a long time.”

“Being separated is something we all knew would happen. It’s part of making sure we can do our duty as ninja.” Zane chides gently. They all turn to look at him. Cole is about to protest the statement when Zane continues. “But that does not make it any easier to be separated. I love you, and I cherish each moment we can spend together.”

There is a chorus of awwws followed by Kai and Jay repeating the sentiment. Cole stays silent, too overwhelmed by the emotion swelling in his chest.

Jay. Kai. Zane. They were all so different. His varied relationships with each of them was proof of just how different they all were. But he loved them all, each just as much as the next. If the last few months had taught him anything, it was that he was not willing to give up a single one of them. Not for anything.

Cole loved his partners with everything he had, and now that they were finally together again, he was going to make the most of each and every moment.

[wincore]

runway (m) | jung yoonoh

pairing: model!jaehyun x fashion designer!reader

words: 18.7k

summary: there are some things that come with dedicating your life to fashion: a taste for finer fabrics, a splash of love for art, and an appreciation of the human body. none of these are supposed to include the hottest model you have ever laid eyes on, or the fact that you completely, utterly hate his guts. 

genre: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, light smut, comedy-ish

warnings: sexual content, mentions of anxiety

a/n: woohooooooo she’s finally here!!!! i cant believe this!! everything aside, i do not have first hand experience working in the fashion industry so please do take this with a grain of salt. i’m also going to pass out. good night <3

A list of things you appreciate: colours, satin, comfort.

A list of things you do not appreciate: Jung Yoonoh. Jaehyun. Whatever.

The hum of the car engine has little effect on you; you travel like this almost every day. Tall buildings, scorching pavement, the blare of traffic—it’s Seoul, after all. You sigh, more of a short expression of annoyance, scrolling down with your thumb and back up again. Since when did he get permission to post pictures from pre-fittings? And one of your works, no less. 

His feed is so messy. You click your tongue. For a model, that is. 

You open the story again and consider messaging him. It’s your cherry red coat, or rather the collar of it, golden thread sewn in swirls of patterns, and a sheer floral shirt extending all the way up to cover Jaehyun’s neck. You frown. It’s meant for showcase, not teasers. Even if the picture extends just from the curve of his shoulder to his parted lips, you can’t stand the sight of it on him. It’s not bias, you try to tell yourself. This is business. You tap your fingertips rapidly against the back of your phone. This is obviously business. 

Seoul Fashion Week is the height of your anxiety, which means you have little regard for anything else decorated around you. With a new frenzy arising in every minute of your day—you don’t have time to think, a sense of madness in the way you keep busy. Your Elixir collection is more than what you had hoped for it to be, a twinge of satisfaction sitting at the pit of your stomach. It nicely puts together everything rich and extravagant, humanity’s first love—everything you despise really, so Jaehyun wasn’t a bad choice for a model. 

You backspace on your text. Is this rude? Should you care if you’re being rude? How unprofessional, you imagine his voice saying. It wouldn’t be the first unprofessional thing you’d done.

The final text reads ‘Glad you’re enjoying my designs, but they were not meant to be publicly displayed before the official show, as common sense predicts.’ 

No, of course you’re not trying to be snarky. It’s perfectly formal. All that time writing professional complaint letters to companies for ripping off your designs paid off, you suppose.

You exit the Uber, thanking the driver quickly before you rush into the building, checking the time on your watch. It’s sunny, and hotter than you anticipated. You can only hope it’s cooler tomorrow so the heat doesn’t suffocate your models.

The company building is another madness in its own. Joohyun greets you with a quick smile, a bunch of fabrics being handed to her before she can make any conversation with you, and the rest of the workers bow in greeting before getting back to their own individual windstorms. You step over a few boxes on the grounds, beelining to your workspace so you can settle down your bag.

You’re team leader, you tell yourself, a short breath tumbling out of your mouth. Even so, you don’t do very well under several pairs of eyes on you at once. Some part of you is still the timid fashion designer, packing your entire identity into a small sketchbook.

The sunlight is blaring out of control in the place—it’s meant to be spacious and sunlit, of course, but the heat makes you adjust your collar before you can move forward. The bustle of the style and design team along with the production team in the same place is akin to a nightmare, and you trace your steps quickly.

“Guys,” you begin, fidgeting with the leather strap of your watch as you continue, “Firstly, good job.”

There’s a bunch of short cheers and clapping to interrupt before you can continue. 

“As for tomorrow…stylists, I need you to touch up the collars in all the Western-style coats. The detailing needs to be kept clean and sharp. I want the audience to be able to see it.”

You pause, your tone still neutral. “And let’s not start again on the lacing. We had that discussion yesterday.” 

There’s some nods and sounds of affirmation. 

“Production team…I don’t think I can say much to you without Doyoung getting on my case.”

There’s collective laughter and you crack a smile. With a few more rapid words, you dismiss yourself, walking over to your colleagues to help them out. You’re team leader, the one with the final say in all the designs, but you can’t possibly imagine completing it without Joohyun or the others. 

“Good pep talk there, (name),” Joohyun says, walking over to you as her hands sharp and steady as they go through the clothes rack. 

“They think I’m an asshole,” you say, breathing out. You know your words are too direct. Drunk co-workers on a Friday night are not the best place to discover facts about yourself. Sometimes even you think you sound bossy. You check the key parts for each item, knowing you’ll be doing this once again before the show.

“We wouldn’t be going anywhere without direction,” Joohyun responds, laughing as if you’d said something silly. “We’re all glad you’re here, (name).”

Words like these are so easing for a mess like you, not that you’d admit it. Joohyun has always been a sort of mother figure to you after you entered this company, followed by Doyoung. A good few years senior to you, she started out as a model before she moved on to designing. 

It’s her last year working in this place. But of course, it’s a given when she’s starting her own label (mom clothes and children’s apparel, she’d called her clothing line, rolling her eyes) and one of the most well-known names in South Korean fashion not having her own label is sacrilege (according to your colleagues anyway). She’d said to contact her when you start your own family, and maybe she’ll send a congratulations package for both you and your baby. You’d laughed. Out of all the insults you could ever receive, that was perhaps the loveliest one.

Ridiculousness aside, you’ll miss the comfort of her presence. You were still in school when your designs led you to a showcase in New York Fashion Week, your sponsor more than generous. You stepped into it too soon, too eager. It was breath-taking and awful all at once—and the first time you saw a world outside of your own. It was overwhelming. There are few people in this new world as kind as Joohyun.

The sound of your notification snaps you out of your thoughts. You swear you kept it on vibrate, a little irked at having to search for your phone when your hands are full. The notification itself brings on a stronger wave of vexation.

_jeongjaehyun:

My manager told me it was good publicity

But I could take it down for you

The ‘for you’ adds an unnecessary effect, you think as you hold back a scowl. And what does ‘could’ mean? A miscommunication with the sales team isn’t even on the list of things you need to worry about. Honestly, you don’t have time to fight him, quickly typing out a ‘whatever. it’s okay’ before looking back up.

You jump, the look on Joohyun’s face a little suspicious for what might come out of her mouth.

“It’s not a crime to text people.” She shrugs, shuffling through the rack one more time to take the clothes for transportation. 

You’re quick to jump to your defence. “I have nothing to do with him.”

Joohyun looks at you, amused. “He’s not a bad person, you know? How long are you going to keep hating him for one thing he did?”

“It’s not one thing,” you groan, averting your gaze to the clothes so as to help her. “I just- he’s so- so- oh come on. You know how I feel about him.”

“I’m just saying you don’t have any reason to. Everyone’s different from what they appear to be. Especially in this line of work.” Joohyun balances the clothes you give her across her forearms.

“So he’s fake. I hate that even more.” You sigh, pulling out the blue silk overcoat, the colour matching Joohyun’s work dress.

“You mean unreal? Models tend to be that way—don’t be so harsh on him, honey.”

You simply shake your head, words entering one ear and out the other. Joohyun presses her lips into a line but lets it go soon enough. She knows you’re capable enough to separate professional from personal and that should be enough. You’re not keeping a tab on something as warming as spite. 

You can’t believe you’d ever been within five feet of him without turning your nose. You can’t believe you’d smiled at his jokes once, even if it was just that one night. He was the godsent Prince Charming, just perhaps not yours. Paris surely had a distressing effect on you that year. 

You don’t make the same mistake twice.

You walk back to your desk to take a seat and scavenge through your belongings, most of the people already outside. Fashion Week, which once upon a time was a faraway dream, now is part of life—exciting and exhausting. It’s almost always over in a flash, your love for it whisked in peaks of bittersweet. (“You work your ass off for six months and it’s, what, fifteen minutes long?” your mother had asked after you’d brought her to one of the shows.)

This line of work is a nightmare without mental preparation. You have a degree, you have experience and yet it doesn’t feel enough, confidence easier to drain in a person than blood. And you’re not very fond of pale cheeks.

It came to asking yourself if you really have it in you for a few months—a test of sorts everyone puts themselves through at least once in their lives. At that time, your favourite professor, a bald man nearing his retirement years with the wrinkliest face you’d ever seen, had asked you just one question. 

Do you love it? 

Of course you fucking do. 

You couldn’t say that to his face, sure, but you know he saw it in you—either the effort you put out every day of the semester or the way your hands moved across fabric like a machine, your designs made with the persistence of nature. Your final year project landed you an internship at one of the largest clothing brands in Seoul and your internship landed you a job at the same. Your job, well, lead you to Jaehyun, among many other things. 

You scowl at the image of his face that appears when you close your eyes, massaging your forehead—it’s hard to not see it everywhere already, from Cosmopolitan to Vogue.

While you were biting your nails in New York, Jaehyun had flown out to Paris with Saint Laurent, one of the younger male models to show his face for the first time. He’d taken the whole place by storm, you had heard from a friend. To say half the world had fallen in love—either with his dimples or his confident walk—would be an understatement. A privilege, to be gold-plated in a mercenary world.

You’d briefly made eye contact at the airport the first time you saw him, a year later, when you were arriving in Incheon and he was leaving it. It was London, that time. For him, Milan. As much as you couldn’t believe living a fashion student’s dream, Jaehyun’s face was truly, unironically much more unrealistic. Your classmates’ gabs and gossip in sewing class had suddenly made sense. You taught yourself to not be swayed by faces, even if they look like they’re stitched together by Aphrodite and Apollo with their bare hands—friendly advice from seniors at the orientation night ‘party’. 

You’d met him formally in Paris, after you’d graduated from fashion school. He was certainly the most beautiful face in the room—and you weren’t the only one aware of it. The entire night you’d been starting conversations you couldn’t relate to, till he came along with his charming dimples and a faux connect. You were naive, and a little tipsy. The attraction was obvious, and it had been you by the bathroom pulling him in for a drunk kiss till he’d snapped out of the daze—as if it were some joke you’d been playing. He’d apologized before leaving, like it wasn’t a big deal, with silken lips parted in a gesture of remorse and a short, firm bow. It didn’t settle very well alongside the merlot in your gut.

You. You’re a big deal. 

You were alone in a room full of painted faces and he sat atop the throne they worshipped. Why had you expected any more from him—in the understanding nods or the few kind words that escaped his lips? You felt stupid. He made you feel like smiling for the first time that night and you hated him for it—you’re sure he doesn’t care either way. Or maybe he does, with the wonderfully irked responses he graces you with. 

Jaehyun made something out of himself in these nine years, just as you have. Runway supermodel to the face of South Korean men in fashion to an entrepreneur, he might as well have a documentary on him—and he would if he didn’t evade paparazzi and reporters like his life depended on it. Enigmatic, the articles wrote. You scoffed. Conceited, more like. After the initial years, he decided to settle in New York, frequently flying to Seoul and other fashion capitals for business and contractual events. Some of those occasionally include your shows.

Having Jaehyun gets more attention but it’s not like you’re a new, doe-eyed kid. Your works have been featured for popstars and foreign celebrities, and you’ve been invited to several interviews with big magazines. You’ve gone global (albeit under the brand’s name) and you’ve been to places you’d only seen pictures of in the very same magazines you looked up to. They can describe your work as unique all they want—and you don’t mean to sound fucking pretentious—but your job is nothing more than an expression of the self. It’s a part of you; you first started sewing patches onto things simply because your closet lacked colour. And eventually, you found yourself searching for more—colours, fabrics, dreams. You’re devoted to your job because you love it, you want to do it. You’re allowed to be a little arrogant about it. 

If only trying desperately to be arrogant did something about your insecurities.

You hope your works redefine themes, your need to stand out contrasting with your fear of it. Eye-catching is always your forte; this time it’s fairy tales and royalty in a mix of East meets West. 

D-1. Same feeling, new season.

The press is here, you take note. Photographers. Models. Students. Vloggers. It’s a burst of colours down there.

You hate running late, rushing down the stairs to the plaza through the crowds of people. Some recognize you, as they make their way to you but you end up walking a little faster to minimize your presence.  You curse yourself for wearing the jacket. It goes nicely with the rest of your outfit and March isn’t supposed to be this hot. You wipe the sweat from your hairline, hoping the makeup is waterproof like it said.

You consider stopping at the café for a fix of coffee but stop when you notice Joohyun holding a bunch of cups by the venue. She doesn’t look too happy about the sun, or the burdening errand of fetching coffee. You adjust her little red beret at her request, smiling at her annoyance but trying your best to keep it hidden. You don’t want to get cussed out by Joohyun. 

“Someone tell Doyoung to get his coffee,” Joohyun complains. “I’ve been waiting for half an hour.”

“I’m sure that’s an exaggeration,” you say, sipping your coffee. The taste fills your senses with a pleasant dose of energy and you hum out a satisfied note. “Why are there so many students out here? Influencers? Did we sponsor this many kids?” 

Joohyun shakes her head.  “Jaehyun just got here.”

You suppress an eye-roll. “Wonder why he still comes back for Seoul when he’s booked full for New York.”

“It’s his hometown.” Joohyun shrugs. “I’d come back too. Even if I’m paid more out there.”

You finish your coffee and duck into the fitting room, much to Joohyun’s displeasure as she’s left alone again. Doyoung’s in for an earful, you chuckle thinking about it.

It would look like a hell of a mess to anyone not accustomed to this. Everyone is a flurry by themselves alone but if you mix them with the eclectic crowd you find at a Seoul Fashion Week backstage, it’s more of a disaster. A colorful one, at the very least. 

New York was worse. You were too young, in a world that was too big. It’s a miracle you even received an opportunity from so big a name. But, you suppose, it hardly matters now.

You no longer live in a world where Seoul is far from Paris. Fashion and art are things unmarked by place of origin.

It’s easy to spot Jaehyun in a corner, two people adjusting his coat for better fitting at the waist. His makeup’s done, you notice as you get closer. Good, you think. If any makeup were to get on the fabric, you’d go feral (although you do have full confidence in the makeup artists here and their choice of product).

“Jaehyun,” you greet. Your co-workers give each other a look before excusing themselves. You raise an eyebrow, too late to stop them. They didn’t finish the looping of the belt properly, you take notice. You wrinkle your nose. Sloppy. 

“(name).” He responds with an equal lack of amusement. 

You pull the belt at his waist, Jaehyun stiffening at the contact.

“What are you doing?” he asks, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“My job? What do you think, genius?”

Jaehyun presses his lips together and lets you complete the altercations. The chiffon shirt allows you to see the hazed definition of his core, a rather flustering thing to be exposed to for anyone with eyes. When you look up in a moment’s mistake, you’re reminded of why his face is everywhere. Flawless, almost. You hate it. Averting your eyes, you fix the collar so the pattern stands out more. You can feel his eyes over your outstretched hand all the way to your face, subtle as ever. If Jaehyun thinks you’re bothered by it, he’s an idiot for believing so. 

You take a step back to analyse the coat. The golden threads are flawlessly detailed, spiraling in patterns of different flowers and vines around the collar, gradually getting larger as they twine at the base of the neck. They meet the polished rhinestone buttons a little lower. You almost smile. You’d sewn each thread and each button in yourself the first time. It hardly looks the same now.

Bright red is an eyesore if you look at it longer than five minutes, you realize. The frown that’s been itching to show up finally does. Suddenly, you’re glad Jaehyun is modelling this piece. You shake your head and look back at his face, from his deep-set brown eyes to his full, tinted lips before pausing. The little Swarovski pearls line strands of his hair in a starry display, perfect in every angle of it. It’s easy to appreciate the human beauty when you see his face, and even if you claim your vehement dislike for him, you’re not a liar nor an idiot. 

How infuriating it is, to let things be. Bad blood can only dry to an ugly, unusable brown.

You narrow your eyes at the thinning layer of glitter on his peach-blushed cheeks. He doesn’t exactly need much more of it but the unevenness bothers you.

“Your makeup needs retouching,” you say, frowning. “Did you touch your face? I thought you were a more...professional model than this, Jaehyun.”

“You walked in,” he replies, casually. “I was distracted.”

You feel your cheeks colour. “That’s- that’s not a reason.”

He smiles politely. “I suppose I’ll leave you then. You must have other work to do.”

You hold back a biting remark. His playfulness doesn’t sit well with you; he’s polite just enough to annoy you and straightforward just enough to make you want to throw something at him. He could’ve directly told you to fuck off maybe—but oh no, it’s Jung Yoonoh, seamless and radiant, with only the sweetest collection of words on his tongue. You think of the first time you met, something warm in the corner of your heart. You’d mistaken it, of course. 

He didn’t care for you, or any of the people trailing after him and his silver flute, or the rest of the shallow carcass of a world so undeniably obsessed with him. It didn’t hit you till he’d left you hanging, mangled memories of something close to hurt. You’re glad you didn’t kiss him. You wouldn’t be able to get over the embarrassment, the blow to your pride had it escalated any further.

And of course, the one thing he did to make you absolutely certain of his distaste—was simply choose another designer’s work over yours when given a choice. It seems silly, unprofessional even, but the lack of response to your Fall/Winter ready-to-wear collection had been embarrassingly low, someone else’s designs sold out at an equally awful rate. You—your insecurities—wanted to blame your own failings—maybe it was the lining of the coats, or the colours maybe— the fabric? Perhaps, you hadn’t focused on comfort all too well. But it was clear, a word from Jung Yoonoh could change the minds of a fashion-forward youth as easily as his face and physique scored contracts with the biggest brands and labels. And it was clear he didn’t like you very much.

You walk over to the other models, eyes scanning down to the T. You glance over one of Joohyun’s designs, a modern men’s hanbok. The blood red paired with yellow is certainly easing on the eyes, though the shades vary from top to bottom, like a sunset. The dark grey chunky shoes fitted under dark tights complete the entire future oriental look you suppose she was going for. She’s only showcasing two of her designs this year and they’re just before the centrepiece. You shake your head, clutching the fabric of your jacket sleeve. You hate seeing other designs before a showcase, even if they’re a friend’s. 

You turn your head to make eye contact with Jaehyun across the room. It takes a few seconds but you snap your head in another direction to break the spell. 

How strange. You haven’t had nearly enough coffee to feel jittery under his gaze.

You’re forced to take a breather away from this jungle of liveliness. 

The amount of people outside the venue gives you yet another headache. Excited college students and fashion vloggers stand outside expectantly, and you give a short bow and polite ‘hello’ to anyone who approaches. You desperately want to be left alone. Even if it’s for a few seconds.

You walk quickly, your feet soundless against the floor. Your mask performs considerably (and surprisingly) well in hiding you. You consider visiting the Design Market to enjoy a seat alone and charge your phone before it’s show time.

Open spaces. You need open spaces. Suddenly, the DDP seems to be suffocating you despite its tremendous size.

“Hey!” You’re greeted with a sudden force to your right side, an arm wrapping around you. You look up to see Johnny, a wide grin on his face and you let yourself mirror it, shaking your head.

“Big day,” he says. “Want me to take some pictures? I’ve got some time between shows—lovely outfit, as usual.”

It’s strange how Johnny’s the photographer and not the model—you’ve heard he receives a lot of requests to get on the other side of the camera though he always refuses. He doesn’t visit Seoul as often, but he has much to do in uplifting the mood with his strangely effective sense of humour. The coffee-coloured shirt he’s wearing goes well with the plaid grey coat, reminiscent of Fendi’s Spring collection, and sometimes you wonder whether a job as a fashion photographer ever had much to do with his style. Johnny has always been effortlessly impressive. 

You politely decline, your mind still focused on the smooth running of things. Nothing’s ever on time when it comes to Fashion Weeks—yes, it’s called fashionably late but it just makes you annoyed. You consider ducking back to your venue, adding some final final touches and any more last-minute altercations. Years have passed and you’re still not used to it, fingers itching to do something about everything. You’re grateful the company gives you your creative space but it only makes you wonder just how far the limits are. 

Johnny accompanies you to the charging station till he’s distracted by some of the children in the latest Fendi kidswear and you make a mental note to never bring your kids to Fashion Week, if you ever choose to have them.

You breathe in and out for a few moments, feeling lightheaded before the sense of reality touches on you. People walk in and out of the stores lining the pathways, a soft buzz of conversation in the air as your eyes follow their movement. You wonder if you’ll have your own stores opened in plazas like this—here, in Seoul, and on brightly lit streets of the world outside. After all, colourful dreams are the hardest to get rid of. You sit quietly till you get a text from Doyoung asking you to get your ass over there quickly with several exclamation marks. You smile to yourself. Joohyun might have had a sour effect on him.

You arrive back at the venue, trying to tear your eyes away from anything that might want to make you fix it. You avoid Jaehyun’s eyes even more so, like you’ll jinx something right before it’s showtime. 

The buzzing reaches a peak before everything is drowned out.

The show finally starts. And it’s over. Twenty-two minutes, this time.

That’s the way it goes. You hold your breath till you’re sure it’s safe to let go, blind to everything that goes on in between. Sometimes it’s underwhelming, sometimes you can’t give a fuck when you love doing this anyway.

You breathe a sigh of joy when everyone gathers backstage, Johnny making all the models pose together for one giant group photo. It’s like a ritual for him, always finding time for a backstage picture with the models goofing off.

Jaehyun looks at you instead of the camera, a nervous shiver running through you. His gaze is not something of inconsequence, eyes piercing into you with words hanging in the air that you don’t care enough about. You think he sends you a smile, cockier than you’d like. Despite your efforts, you have to look away.

Now, what should your dear Fall collection look like? You exit by yourself, relief humming through your veins when you think of getting back to your apartment, papers to be sketched on in your hands, soft fabric to be sewn on your table. Maybe they’ll display your works in the front rows of the stores, maybe you’ll even have displays outside of Seoul. You’re not a student anymore and your job has taken you enough places. 

Even so, Paris and Milan sneak into your dreams often. You used to dream of them so much that it was hard to consider them reality—finding yourself in those streets, in between all those beautiful picture-book monuments.

You prefer Seoul, you decide after conscious thinking. You don’t have to worry about the world outside. 

Afterparties are not your thing. 

You somehow still find yourself in them, hoping to catch a drunk video of Doyoung for blackmail or make eye contact with an attractive stranger only to stop at exchanging numbers because you never find the time. 

It’s a social event. You’re supposed to be doing social things. It’s exhausting.

The last person you expect to bump into is Jaehyun, drinks in hand as he looks down at you with a greeting of surprise on his tongue. He’s wearing a simple dark Oxford button-down, two buttons at his chest undone, and tucked neatly into his pants. His hair looks untouched since afternoon, parted in messy waves, minus the pearls. The music changes to something with slower beats as you stare at each other for a few moments.

“What are you doing here?” You raise an eyebrow. There are other afterparties he could be attending. Big ones.

Jaehyun tilts his head, cracking his neck before smiling. “Charming, as always. I’m here because I want to be here, obviously. So does everyone, I’m sure.” 

“Fucking narcissist,” you mutter to yourself. You think Jaehyun might have heard you because you get a dirty look thrown your way, masked with the signature apathy across his relaxed lips.

“That’s a little rich from you,” he mumbles.

The muscle by his mouth twitches but he doesn’t say anything more. This is probably the most emotion he shows, you think. Wouldn’t his lovestruck magazines relish seeing him riled up like this? They’d still find a way to fall in love with him.

You could have, too.

No way. You tell yourself that’s ridiculous. 

You’re aware he’s booked for at least three other shows this week. It’s a miracle he agreed to yours, considering your mutual distaste for each other. You suppose it had more to do with his agency than himself but it wasn’t like you were the keener one. Jung Yoonoh is the face professionals look for and your company loves the publicity, although you keep telling yourself your designs would still shine without him. 

Jaehyun excuses himself before you can get on with any unpleasant conversation you might have. At least you have something in common—that is, trying to avoid each other as much as possible.

A few minutes (and uncomfortably snaking through swarms of bodies) later, you find Doyoung, unfortunately sober and intending to remain so, people congratulating him with claps on the back for securing the position of PR Head. You think it was supposed to be a secret, but someone higher in the ladder must have spilled early. Joohyun never attends these, and honestly, good for her. 

Afterparties are not your thing.

You shouldn’t have taken those shots but you’re on the dance floor now anyway—what more could happen? It’s easier when you’re not paranoid about all the eyes on you, dancing against a stranger with a lion tattooed against his neck. Maybe you’ll go home with him, maybe you’ll leave at the first signs of attraction. Romance isn’t quite on your to-do list, but an occasional intoxication with the skin works just fine. You could live like this for a few moments.

Your back runs into someone else’s rather forcefully and you turn around, apology bubbled up to your tongue already, mixing with the alcohol.

“Oh look.” You roll your eyes. “It’s the prince of high fashion. What can I get you today, sire?”

Jaehyun drives his tongue over his lips, quite definitely over your antics. Soft breaths leave his mouth in a rhythm irrelevant to this box of laughter and blaring music called a party. You love how he never knows how to respond—what new words will he choose to keep false dignity? If you think about it, he’s the embodiment of why you always thought everything was so out of your reach—big names, exclusive parties, not for kids like you. They were never for fashion students too honest to know their own worth.

“Jealousy isn’t a good colour on you,” he says, just loud enough for you to hear.

You scoff, a pang of annoyance sizzling through you. “Jealous? Of who? You?”

You sneer at the last part, Jaehyun’s frown deepening. Some days you just like to think you’ve won. A few moments pass between you two, the sound of pop music filling in the gaps. 

Jaehyun presses closer to you, your chests almost touching as your breath hitches in your throat.

“Do you know what makes success?” he says, head dipping lower to look you in the eye. The smell of alcohol disturbs you for a second before your heartbeat gets loud enough to drown it. You try to not focus on how his mouth is so near yours—and perhaps if you were drunk enough, you might commit a mistake against the very core of your being, something you’d been dangerously close to once.

You stay quiet, the pulsing in your ears too loud in the shallow distance between the two of you. You swear it’s always the two of you pressed up like this once you’re drunk enough, the dislike growing stronger and stronger with every breath exchanged. You’ve intertwined each other into a strange garden of contempt, easy to forget when you're facing him. Jung Yoonoh has the prettiest face in the industry, and the only one you can’t bear seeing. 

“It’s confidence,” he answers, as slow and steady as ever. “And there’s a thin line between confidence and arrogance I intend to keep. I’m not so sure about you.”

The rest of the night passes without conflict and you retire early, Jaehyun’s breath still hot against your face. Only when you collapse on your bed do you get an urge to shout, yell, anything that doesn’t make you call him up and scream at him. You have your precious dignity too, something he seems to look past. The effect he had on your breathing, the crawling over your skin—God, you hate him. You’re too stubborn to not continue doing it.

“What’s this?” you ask, your eyes darting in between the director of design and Lee Taeyong.

To say you were surprised to see him would be an understatement. You note the simple dark rimmed glasses in contrast with his light dyed hair, the mellow blue of his cashmere sweater sporting his own label’s logo—Lee Taeyong is a household name. You feel yourself shrink the tiniest bit.

This industry’s all about names, you think miserably. You meet people and you remember the ones who can get you ahead. It’s tiring.

Taeyong started his career even earlier than you did, and before he had changed his major to fashion. He’s a little older than you, though he doesn’t look it and he had begun with working exclusively on jackets. Several rejected designs later, he had popped up as one of the designers to look out for in Seoul Fashion Week. Now he has his own global label slowly turning brand, several worldwide stores and everything dreamers in the same place as you look up to. You think you’re fine here, you tell yourself despite that.

The director smiles at you, her hand gesturing rapidly at you to come forward.

“You’re going to be so happy,” she says, signalling Taeyong to continue.

“Uh, hi,” he greets.

A little awkward for a world-class designer, you think.

“I’m Lee Taeyong. You might have heard of me—”

“I know who you are,” you interrupt, ignoring the disapproving look of the director.

“Oh, that’s good!” He smiles. “I’ve seen your work—I’ve been following your work for a few years now…and, well, I’d love for you to work under my label—in a collaboration of sorts. You’ll have full creative freedom, of course! I’m just there more or less for supervision, really…”

You think you feel your heart stop for a few moments, Taeyong’s sudden stream of information fading out. The pinnacle of your career, you believe, had been Paris Fashion Week four years ago and you’d been dreaming of it ever since. This is a business contract, you’re sure, and you don’t know if you have a real choice but maybe you could take that step forward you’ve always wanted to.

“Isn’t that great, (name)?” The director interjects. “You get to work under the Lee Taeyong label. And…surprise! You’ll have your work presented at New York Fashion Week in September. They’ll hit the stores a week later.”

You freeze. 

“New York?” you manage to squeak.

“Yep!” Her voice a notch away from annoying. She’s not the first person you’ve met who sounds so goddamn manufactured. “Pack your bags, darling. You’re flying next weekend.”

You must be looking like a deer caught in the headlights because Taeyong opens his mouth to say something, alarmed. You speak before he does.

“Okay,” you say, more to yourself than them. It should be a good thing. It’s supposed to be a good thing. Even so, you feel the anxiety in your ribcage threatening to overgrow into thorns. 

“I’ll- I’ll do it,” you clarify. Looking from your manager’s bright yet stern face to the hopeful smile on Taeyong, you don’t think you have much of a choice.

New York, huh. How long has it been? You shudder at the memories, your focus a little off for the rest of the day.

Joohyun visits you a day before you leave. She places the box of chocolates on the coffee table, that Doyoung apparently sent for you. 

“You know, I’m really happy you’re getting this chance,” Joohyun says, crouching down beside where you’re splayed, trying to count the travel essentials and everything else on your messy checklist.

“He gets promoted and now he can’t even come visit me, huh?” you say, shifting to grab the box and tear off the clear wrap.

Joohyun laughs. “He’s certainly enjoying his duties. I can’t wait to boss him around again after I leave.”

Your shoulders hunch, a sigh leaving your lips. “Great. You’re leaving. Doyoung’s too busy to annoy. And now I’m a part of this godforsaken project for almost six months.”

Joohyun softens a bit, running her hand through your hair. “I heard you accepted it. All by yourself. You’ll do just fine, don’t worry.”

You feel yourself turn pink, a feeling of warmth you’ve been missing for a week. It’s cozy in your apartment, always the right temperature with a tinge of happy memories. You wish you could find comfort in people as easily as others do. Everything happened so fast, you can barely remember the conversation you had with Lee Taeyong. A few moments pass, Joohyun and you picking out chocolates before you can rummage through your suitcase again.

“I hate New York, Joohyun. Just what else can you throw into the mix to make me hate it even more?”

She freezes for a fraction of a moment, pressing her lips together before clearing her throat. “Oh. Uh. I probably shouldn’t tell you what I was about to tell you then.”

You turn your head to her, eyes narrowing. “What?”

She shrugs, eyes not meeting yours. “You know. New York. Fashion capital of the world. Lots of things to love.”

“What are you not telling me, Joohyun?”

She sighs, defeated. “A certain someone might be on the same flight as you. I was about to give you his number in case you needed help.”

You pause to think, curling your lips. “It’s Jaehyun, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

You groan, dropping your head back and yelping when it hits the coffee table. Joohyun moves to rub your head and ease the pain as you let out a stream of complaints.

“You really thought I’d call him for help?” you yell. “Him? Of all people?”

“I think you’d rather have a known face there. Besides, he’s a good kid,” she reasons, looking you in the eye. “And stop yelling.”

You quieten a bit at her glare, gulping. She adds the number to your contacts, saving it with a professional ‘Jung Yoonoh’ before she helps you clean up, advising you on how to manage your finances abroad. You know she’s trying to ease you, but how could she—after dropping this awful news on you like it shouldn’t matter at all? She doesn’t even know what happened—almost happened in Paris, or the fact that your honeyed feelings had turned bitter so easily. She’s worked with him before, you know this, when he was a much younger model and she trusts him more than you ever could. 

But maybe, just maybe she can’t see what you see—after all, she’s also part of the elite, crème de la crème of this industry, more so in this country. It’s frightening, and so vague what goes on up there, at the top of the chain; and whatever you have—it might never be enough. 

You’re you. Sometimes, that isn’t enough.

You jump at the water rushing from the shower, too cold for skin and scramble to twist the knob the other way. This time, the water’s too hot and you yelp, shutting it off altogether.

You press your hand against the shower glass, breathing heavy. You’re trying—you’ve been desperately trying ever since you landed a week ago. Change is not something you can take lightly. You miss the dim lights of your apartment in Seoul that Joohyun always warned would get you some brand new prescription glasses. You miss walking down the streets to your favourite convenience store at three in the morning to get honey butter chips. You miss picking fights with Doyoung over which detail to scrutinise during your project discussions. This project seems to have torn apart several things that belonged to you.

You can’t seem to get your head into it either—even spacing out during the meeting you had with Lee Taeyong among several other things. You can’t remember a single design detail he’d specified or what the theme was even supposed to be—a bunch of bright foggy lights replacing whatever fuzz was growing in your head. A twenty-something-year-old shouldn’t be letting homesickness affect them like this. 

You finish the rest of your shower with a heavy heart and a clouded head. 

Taeyong booking a luxury suite for you was a bit…much. Not that you’re complaining, but it gives more fuel to the profound sense of emptiness you keep drawing. There’s no intimacy to this place, no love. It’s a little hard to create things without love, and comfort.

Still, you grit your teeth and get dressed into something more comfortable for the night. If not today, then tomorrow. Something will have to give, even if it costs you—whatever the hell your parents keep telling you when you’re going through problems. What if you don’t want to be cost things? Compromise isn’t as delicate as it sounds. You try to comfort yourself, rocking yourself on the much too large couch, hugging a pillow close and trying to think of things that don’t immediately make you want to throw up.

The memories of your first visit are a little less than pleasant. You think you cried after the entire ordeal because you thought you did a bad job of talking, socializing, the most ordinary things. There are some people who are good at wearing masks—good at making copper look like gold, good at shining under dim lights, and good at using words that don’t have much meaning to their existence other than being pretty. 

You were not one of them. 

The intense need for everything to be perfect was still there, even when you couldn’t possibly have achieved it. You wanted to make things and show them to the world—what was so wrong with that? Why did being there make you feel like you could never even touch your dreams? You were so out of place, feeling completely out of touch with yourself. There were people from the top there, established and famous. It felt out of your grasp. You felt fake.

The city lights twinkle with life but there’s no sound, the windows shut tight. The ambience of the room is kept to a caramel minimum—the best you can do to honour your sweet little home back in Seoul.

The hatred for everything pretentious was born with your first step into this place, into the game that the big boys play. It showed in your designs, your choice of fabric, your distaste for certain people. You wanted reality—you wanted a taste of life in your everyday clothes. You wanted that flavour you feel on your tongue in a room full of strangers or the one on a quiet night by yourself at your apartment rooftop. You didn’t want dignified fur coat ensembles, you wanted the naive chaos you feel every day and you wanted to make it look good. It’s driving you insane just how much you feel like you’re losing now.

You take out your phone after what seems a few minutes of contemplation. 

Jung Yoonoh. Your finger hovers over the call button. What would he say if his night is interrupted by your voice?

You’d met at the airport after landing, though you were only two seats away in the plane. You’d made no error in acknowledging his presence, browsing through the inflight magazine half-heartedly. Truth be told, sometimes you couldn’t really seem to get over him. Sometimes the thought of him made you so pissed, you had no idea what to think of it. 

“Welcome to New York,” he had said shortly after you’d exited, a giant crowd of people greeting out-goers, holding up placards with names of people, in numbers you’re unaccustomed to. Or, used to be accustomed to.

You hadn’t talked since—and really, you weren’t expecting to.

You press your home button, any lingering thoughts of him vanishing at the force with which you tell yourself it’s not worth it. How is Jung Yoonoh better than anyone else you know here? He might have been living in New York for quite a few years now, and he’s probably the only one you’d feel comfortable enough to swear at—that doesn’t mean you’d actually ask for help. That doesn’t mean he’d actually help. Joohyun must have had her hopes far too high to have convinced you for even a moment.

The couch feels colder all of a sudden, and you turn down the air conditioner. This place will never adjust to you, and your stubborn little self won’t either.

You think of Jaehyun from the afterparty, loose shirt and knowing eyes, and you wonder if he feels just the same frustrated agony, if not more. You think of his parted lips and breathing words close enough to be provocative, discomfort growing at the base of your stomach. Who does he think he is? He might have the airs and dignity of someone way up in the hierarchy of society but you know what people can be like. You know envy, you know malice, and you know lies. He has to fit in there somewhere—and perhaps you would have hated him less if he did.

Even if you’d scoffed at the idea of jealousy, that might very well be the closest to what you feel, what you keep hidden in the darkest corners of your locked chest. When you first met at that star-spangled dinner, you’d felt what it’s like to watch a fireworks show or a big musical opening; but the fireworks are being blocked by skyscrapers and you’re only the helping staff at the theatre, watching from a balcony at the very back. Jaehyun was impressive with barely any words. It annoyed you so much and somehow, the only solution you arrived at was the tremendous need to understand him, pick him apart and see what made him.

No. That’s wrong. You were annoyed because you still wanted to kiss him after he’d pushed you away, his dislike steaming clear. It strikes you as gently as lightning that the only reason someone would have to hate Jaehyun is being attracted so violently to him. God, you hate making a fool out of yourself.

You pass the night in quiet contemplation, promising yourself a better tomorrow. After all, no one else is going to do it. 

You walk with your chin up as if you don’t feel the weight of the world on your shoulders. You picked out your black Harrington jacket to look at least a little more professional, but you might have miscalculated the size and the material in the equation because you look completely and utterly ridiculous in it. No one would look at you and think you even work in fashion, much less be competent in that line. 

(To be fair, you wear the same beige sweater and black corduroy pants to work and if your coworkers choose to judge you, you wouldn’t blame them.) 

It’s only been a month and somehow, it translates to forever to you. You think you’re adjusting better now, and you pat yourself on the back for it. It’s not raining today at the mercy of the skies, a tidal wave of sunlight splashing through the buildings every time you take a turn. The city doesn’t scare you all that much anymore. It’s a good day, for once.  

You lean your head against the car window, eyes trailing up and down the reflective blue of each skyscraper. You can barely see any clouds, and the sky’s endlessly the same, comforting blue. Just like back home, you think for a moment. Your eyes move back to the sidewalk, people passing by—mothers with their babies in strollers, kids clutching the strap of their school bags as they run, men and women in all levels of professional clothing. No one stops in this city. Except the fucking traffic apparently.

You sigh, glancing at your watch. Only moments ago, you were moving and yet again, you’ve stopped. The cycle keeps repeating and you’re trying to keep patience focusing on things around you that you can appreciate. 

Maybe you jinxed it when you said it was a good day.

You reach Taeyong’s studio just in time (not that you’d get yelled at or anything, he’s too nice of a guy). Your eyes fixate on the numbers that light up on the elevator one by one till it finally reaches the first floor.

You walk right into someone’s chest, an apology tumbling out of your lips as you bow out of habit. 

“(name)?”

You look up to find Jaehyun in the elevator of Taeyong’s building, a casual white shirt clinging to his frame that’s tucked into his jeans to look somewhat formal. A pink overshirt hangs at his forearm and from the windswept styling of hair and his perfected dark locks, you’ll assume he’s here for a shoot—even without it, he looks like something from a teen magazine, someone people would see and instantly daydream of. Best known for high fashion, Jung Yoonoh is still a spectacle in casualwear. 

“I can’t believe I have to see your face here too,” you mutter, getting into the elevator. You’ve had your share of moments with him.

“Good to see you too,” he says, bemused. 

You make a sound of acknowledgment, taking out your phone to turn the damn notifications off so you don’t feel it vibrate in your pocket every few minutes. You feel eyes on you for a moment and snap your head to the side.

Jaehyun has his eyes focused on the door, quiet breathing fresh against his lips and you hesitate before concluding you might have been mistaken in your perception. 

“You’re here for a shoot?” you ask, curious about his relationship with Taeyong. 

“What else can I be here for?” He says nonchalantly. 

“Sarcastic. Very nice.”  

“It’s a little weird, you trying to make conversation with me. You’re usually raving about me too much to actually talk to me.” He smiles, the dimples provoking and eyes the familiar beguiling brown. 

“I’m not trying to make conversation,” you hiss, crossing your arms. “I’m sorry, I forgot you’re only a person in front of cameras.”

Jaehyun takes a sharp breath before turning to you, a not-so-happy look on his face despite the calmness over his features. You’ve seen it enough times.

“How long are you going to keep up the pretentious this and pretentious that before you face it, really?” He looks at you with tight lips, poisonous implications in his question. “Why you love to get up in my case all the time?”

The words take time to settle in. You shake your head when you realize, a sardonic laugh leaving your lips. Of course he’d think that.

“Oh my god,” you scoff. “You’re so full of yourself. You think I’m interested in you? Don’t let what happened years ago get to your head.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Oh, what did you mean then? Pray tell.”

“First of all, stop cutting me off,” he says, taking a step towards you. A certain feeling of uneasiness runs through you when you detect annoyance in his quiet statement.

“Secondly,” he says, taking a another step forward just as your back hits the wall of the elevator, “Stop treating me like I’m the bane of your existence. I have nothing to do with you.”

He’s right, of course, but the words sting where they hit. Asshole, you think. He has no business telling you what to do and what not to do. But in this moment, you can’t fish for the correct words—you don’t have the strength to when you’re so close to each other like this, the scent of his cologne syrupy and sickening. His tall stature is intimidating, with his straight shoulders and proud jawline.

The elevator dings at the seventh floor, Jaehyun stepping away from you without a glance or care, striding out just as smoothly as on a runway.

You take a moment to breathe, unsaid words burning holes into your tongue. You wish you could’ve said something better, anything that didn’t make you feel so pathetic. Maybe you should’ve told him to stick his words up his ass, sounding vulgar being the least of your worries. You wait patiently to reach the last floor, each ding souring your mood little by little. 

You are so glad you didn’t call him that night. To think he’d ever help you knowing it’s mutual, the whole hating each other’s guts. You just can’t believe the audacity of him—to accuse you of, what, romantic feelings? In an industry where you can’t tell apart gold from copper? Where all the people warming up to you are fair weather friends and competitors? He must have let all that attention get to his head. Runway faces aren’t as easy to fall in love with as he thinks.

“(name)! Come quick!”

Taeyong’s voice urges as soon as you enter and you settle your bag down, rushing to him. His smile drops when he sees your seething figure place your bag on the desk with a loud thud. You turn to him, without a hint of sweetened formality and ask him the day’s schedule.

Taeyong gulps before responding, undoubtedly afraid of your lips, a twitch away from a scowl, but he explains nicely nonetheless.

“Can you do a rerun of these designs for me?” he says, arranging the papers on the desk. That’s how he says these need improvement. No wonder the interns love him.

Taeyong’s in his usual attire, still too chic for you but strangely comfortable to look at. You nod, immediately scrutinising them, your (almost pointless) years of training trying to give you hints as to where you went wrong. You’re not really expecting to find big flaws or anything—just details you can enhance. You’ve learned enough about Taeyong in a month and it’s that his sense of style encompasses comfort, even in the most abstract of concepts. You respect him for that. It doesn’t change the fact that you think it’s a little overdone maybe.

Taeyong laughs, breaking you out of your daze. You raise an eyebrow.

“Is- Is something wrong?” You look at him, perplexed.

“It’s just that- It’s just you remind me a lot of the fashion students.” He smiles at you.

Your shoulders droop. Amateur. New. Unprofessional.

“Oh.”

Taeyong rephrases himself quickly, waving his hands about. “I don’t mean it as a bad thing! It just means you still…love doing it.”

It sticks with you longer than you’d expect, as you work throughout the day. You think Taeyong is too nice to criticize you properly but he eventually gets the point across—stick to the theme, written in Taeyong’s dainty handwriting and pinned to the softboard. 

Secrets. 

What an atrocious concept. Firstly, it makes no sense apart from sounding like a fucking lingerie collection. Secondly, when you went over Taeyong’s designs with the layers and patches, you supposed he wanted to focus on the inside of things because everything he’d drawn was inside out. Thirdly, when you heard him explain it, you were a little taken aback to hear it was going to be all about you, us. The designers, the models, the photographers, the magazine editors—there are millions and millions of people working to make sketches come to life, for a few items of clothing in someone’s closet. It feels nice to hear that from him. You promise you’re going to perfect it. 

And perfection is your dear old friend. 

It’s what you always strive for, but end up with something else that’s a little less beautiful. You take slow breaths, removing and adding details (after all, art is in the details). But perfection can easily grow tiresome. It makes you increasingly frustrated and you don’t think you have the heart to tell Taeyong everything in his studio stresses you out.

“So, you’re working with Jaehyun?” you ask, trying to look less antsy.

Taeyong blanks out for a moment before responding. “Yes. Why? Is he- Is he making you uncomfortable?”

Uncomfortable wouldn’t even begin to explain what he makes you feel. 

“No,” you deny. “Just curious.”

Taeyong smiles. “We usually work on summer shoots together. It’s like tradition.”

“That’s…nice,” you say, trying to reciprocate his smile.

“Oh, but we’re having terrible weather so the shoots keep going longer than planned. That’s why I’m having to compromise planning time with you. Sorry about that.”

You try to keep your posture despite the mild annoyance brewing at the back of your head. Great. Now you have to see Jaehyun’s unbelievably annoying face every time you walk in. Maybe if you plead enough, you’d get permission to leave early and not want to throw some insults at him. 

You decide to walk, despite Taeyong insisting his driver help you get home. He doesn’t act like it but he’s a busy man, with side projects and interviews coming up so often you lose count. It’s no wonder he had to, and you hate using this word, hire someone for the label’s next venture. You think articles like Lee Taeyong loses touch and hires designers instead of doing his job would make him upset but he seems to genuinely not let it bother him. It’s about ideas to him. His label, almost large enough to be a brand, is for ideas; what a pretty thing to base your business around. While you thought you were a big shot back in South Korea, you’re almost nothing more than Lee Taeyong’s co-designer—assistant here.

You feel drops of what you felt years ago trickling down your throat. Overshadowed. Powerless. Imposter. Something about New York makes you want to pull all your hair out. You wish you hadn’t been here in the first place, maybe then this would seem more of a fun trip than memories weighing you down. But then if you hadn’t been here, you might not have even started.

You hug yourself at the sudden downpour, clouds kind enough for it to be nothing more than showers but you’re soaked anyway. Kind, but still a little cruel. Running under the eaves of a store, you curse yourself for not bringing an umbrella the only day you needed it. You stand there for a while, just breathing.

Real life is never like movies, is it? Cameras lie. Pretty faces lie. Sometimes you end up stuck in New York rains without an umbrella or a friend to call or a lover to protect you. You end up getting an Uber, taking awfully long to arrive due to the traffic the rain had ensued and try your best to ignore the disgruntled driver mumbling about you wetting his seats.

You still don’t know how the goddamn shower works. 

You manage to complete without either scorching your skin off or freezing it to Greenland and back—a feat much more successful than whatever you had going on for today. You slip into the absurdly soft mattress, pillows and covers swallowing you into a state of sleep.

You start the day almost pouring coffee onto Jaehyun’s spotless white shirt. And you might have were it not for immense self-restraint, and the fact that Taeyong’s eyes were trained on the two of you.

“So…are you two…a thing or something?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“No,” Jaehyun responds calmly while you sputter it out.

Taeyong apologizes, a laugh following. “You seem to have worked together before. Jaehyun, you never told me that.”

“I…I thought you knew,” he answers, leaning back against the tabletop.

“Ah, well,” Taeyong shrugs. “Thanks for helping me out with this, (name). Maybe- maybe we can draw some inspiration for the collection from outdoors.”

“Of course,” you say as you smile wide, trying hard not to break the coffee mug in your hand.

If you’re being honest, you had a gut feeling you’d be asked to help with Taeyong’s (apparently) infamous summer shoot. He walks into his studio every morning with hair in a disarray, talking to more people than he might enjoy and the entirety of New York weather against him. There’s only so much time a man can have and under pressure, he’s going to have to choose. It’s easy to feel sorry for someone like him.

This should be the stylist’s job. Jaehyun stands with his chin up as you adjust the fitting, smoothing out creases and making sure the cerulean shirt is pinned right, satin feeling cool and nice under your fingers. Sleeveless is back in trend this summer, and so are low-cuts.

“Careful there,” he says when you hand brushes a little lower, just below the full-grain leather belt.

You hope your face isn’t steaming from the rush of heat but you manage to limit your emotions to a sound of discomfort, remembering the horrendous accusation he’d thrown at you. “I don’t care about your dick, twit.”

Jaehyun laughs, bending a little to whisper. “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“You look like you’re having a wonderful time making me uncomfortable.”

“You’re just so easy to work up.”

His dimples are getting on your nerves. You reach up to button his collar, perhaps a little too harsh because he chokes, an uncharacteristic sound leaving his mouth as he winces. You suppress a smile, glad you managed to do something about the look on his face.

The sunlight over this park feels like Christmas come early, with the way Taeyong is flitting from model to model and stylist to stylist with the intensity of a five year old after an ice-cream truck. 

“Is he- Is he usually like this?” you ask, eyes on the makeup artist getting directions from Taeyong.

“I just assumed all of you are this way,” Jaehyun, responds looking at the same sight.

You roll your eyes. “We’re not all crazy.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe a little bit,” you correct yourself, watching Taeyong almost trip over someone’s bag in order to greet the magazine’s style director. 

Jaehyun chuckles, eyes meeting yours for a moment before the two of you go about your own business.

You like magazine shoots for the most part. You never find a glass of water anywhere, but some intern or the other will definitely be there to fetch you Starbucks. There’s at least three people fussing over each model and at least two exasperated photographers trying very hard to snap clean shots. The stylist and designer look as though they might explode any minute, although the relief on their faces after it’s all over is something worth looking at. The skies are so bright and blue, you think, for a cosmopolis. The trees and shrubs lining the park are in a state of tranquility compared to the chaos it encircles.  

Magazines might not be as important in an age of social media advertisement, almost part of nostalgia now—but maybe some of you are not yet willing to deny kids the thrill of reading a magazine under their blankets in the middle of the night. It often gave hope to little boys playing dress up and little girls sewing their own clothes. 

You’d forgotten just how exhausting shooting with magazines is. The models must be having it worse but their masks don’t come off easy. If you had ever underestimated their job difficulty, it comes back to throttle you at full speed every time you’re at a shoot.

 Looking good in front of a camera is pretty damn hard. 

They don’t even get to keep the clothes, unless some asshole of a designer decides to pay them in apparel instead of actual money. Most models leave New York in debt. Men are paid even less than women. You’re surprised Jaehyun is as celebrated as he is—or the fact that he was clever enough of a businessman in launching his own high fashion-themed restaurant. You’ve heard he barely visits it, like a careless afterthought. But you’re not one to get carried away by sketchy articles on the internet. All you’ve needed are more reasons to hate him.

You sip the iced coffee, its effect pretty much worn out during humid afternoons. It’s time for a break, but no one’s willing to break momentum. You find yourself feeling a little awkward, as nothing more than a guest with creative advice, and so you sit under the comforting cool of the giant green umbrella at one of the tables. You could sink into your chair were it not so damn uncomfortable.

Jaehyun takes a seat right beside you to your surprise, offering you a box of diced mango before you fervently decline. You still think he’s an asshole. It doesn’t make any sense—why accuse you of unsaid affections and then flirt with you like he never said it? It’s not like you’re even friends, how ridiculous. There are quite a few jerks you’ve met in your life, but Jung Yoonoh really takes the cake.

“What?” you snap when his gaze gets on your nerves.

“I didn’t say anything.” He raises his hands defensively, eyes still on yours. “You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“I enjoy the air conditioned suite Taeyong booked me more than this, yes.” You sigh, leaning back. “I don’t really have anything to do.” 

“I’m assuming he booked you the luxury suite on the fifteenth floor,” he says, chuckling.

You furrow your eyebrows. It’s not impossible that Jaehyun knows Taeyong’s favorite suite to book for guests.

“The view’s pretty nice from there, right? Oh, and you must be enjoying the silence.”

“I actually like the outside sounds,” you defend. “It’s calming.” 

“Not when you’re on the third floor,” he says, shoving a piece of mango into his mouth with a fork. “All you hear is middle aged men screaming.”

You rest your elbow on the table, placing your chin against your palm. The shade is separated from sunlight by a thin line against his chest, pale blue satin glimmering where the sun meets it. Jaehyun’s eyes shine a darker hue of honey under the shade, moving to the box in his hands occasionally before trailing back to the background noise again. Taeyong really does love pretty fits, but this might just be one of the most gorgeous pieces you’ve seen this summer (and you’ve already been through all the ready-to-wear lookbooks you possibly could). A thought passes you in a breeze, that maybe it's the model making it seem that way.

“You’re talkative today,” you note quietly, the sun harsher on your cheeks than before.

Jaehyun shrugs, hurrying to finish all the pieces. He suddenly pulls a face, one you don’t see very often in high fashion websites and Instagram pages. It’s almost cute. 

“Sour.” 

You find yourself laughing, a gentle influx of peace filling the inside your chest. You quickly recover, looking back up to see Jaehyun simply staring at you, breathing. He looks caught off-guard, no camera to warn him. You straighten, your cheeks flushing with heat.

“Is- Is something wrong?”

He immediately shakes his head, more to himself than you. There’s a pause before the two of you are happily distracted. The style director appears to be gesturing at him from the other side and Jaehyun responds with a curt wave.

“You’re doing two different concepts today?”

“Three, actually.”

You raise your eyebrows. Well, they’re definitely taking advantage of the good weather. They could just photoshop it, in your opinion, but authenticity is everything when it comes to magazines nowadays. 

“Well, don’t let me hold you back,” you say, your tone dismissive. “Go get changed into whatever pretty shirt Taeyong has up next in his collection.”

“The next shoot doesn’t have a shirt,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirked upward.

You almost choke on your coffee, blaming the heat for your weak state of mind. You’re just having one of those strange days—just that, nothing else.

You finish the rest of the coffee, cup resting in your hand till you find the energy to get up and find a trash can.  

Jaehyun was right. This time the shoot’s a little too wet and a little too much skin for you to enjoy. The only thing added to Jaehyun above the waist are a dainty red scarf knotted over his neck and a small, flat hoop earring on his left ear. The velvet fingerless gloves, although you’re not very fond of them, complete a rather rugged yet soft look. You didn’t expect Taeyong to come up with something like that. 

Jaehyun’s well-developed physique, while you’ve seen it in other shoots and online articles, is completely different when you’re a few feet away from it. The dark blue cargo pants, silken, are a signature style of Taeyong but the details don’t distract you easily enough. Funny, this is the first time you’re feeling somewhat flustered in a place full of half-naked models. 

You suddenly think of reds and oranges, lilac shrubs and a hint of Burberry men’s perfume. In a way, it reminds you of the strums of the guitar your roommate used to play while you stayed up late, coming up with concepts. Cherishing, soothing—and special, just enough. The corner of your lips twitch and you take out your pocket sketchbook. It’s never too late to add a design to the collection, right? After all, you have secrets too. Maybe Taeyong was right about the outdoors for inspiration. 

Something sets into motion, subtle but sharp.

The next time you walk into Taeyong’s studio, you feel the sun on your face better. Everything seems to be fitting into place, as you smooth through designs at a pace your student self would be jealous of. When Taeyong praises your work, you feel a rush of pride smearing the inside of your chest and you finally feel like everything’s not falling apart. It feels good. It feels like you’re someone.

The days go by in what seems like barely seconds—you know what they say about New York minutes. The mustard cloth draped over your desk to the cottage blue of your curtains, the colours around you change as quickly as the wind. Sometimes they’re abstract—and other times, well, they have more to do with a stranger’s eyes, or the swirls within a coffee cup. It’s the way in which transition occurs around you, that you often forget it moves something within you too. 

You’ve put together some samples with Taeyong, most of them by yourself; the process of making is ever comforting, fabric even more so. You’ve sent the revised designs for production, feeling giddy about whatever is to come like it’s something new. (It shouldn’t be.) 

You fucking hate how different this is. Seoul is nothing compared to New York. The anxiety is nearly ten times worse, the streets are far more attractive when it comes to inspiration and the figure of Jung Yoonoh is no longer as easy to ignore. 

Even after the summer shoot’s over, Jaehyun often comes by to hang out at the studio, dressed in what you would call the simplest fucking thing you’d ever seen and still managing to look just as gorgeous. He blends in well with university students, often wearing the ugliest baseball cap you’ve ever seen, and the look of his face feels much, much worse than ever before. It’s at ease, smug even, but never failing to smile at you when you’re trying to focus. You don’t care how good of friends Taeyong and Jaehyun are—you want to tell him to leave. 

But you just can’t bring yourself to. It’s not that you don’t trust yourself, you certainly do, but whatever New York has done to you, includes making you feel a different way about him. Sometimes you find yourself pressing your legs together harshly, stiffening at any proximity with him and a pool of warmth at the base of your stomach you’d rather not feel.

It’s embarrassing to even think about it—the fact that he makes you feel that way, so hot and bothered like it’s your first time. You blame your lack of going out these few months because after all, anyone could fall in love with runway faces. It doesn’t have to mean it’s him you want. You carry on doing what you’ve been doing for the most part of your career, your best to avoid him. There are more pressing matters, and your head might just implode if you keep on worrying about things (a man, of all) you need not. 

Time passes even faster when all your thoughts revolve around the same thing.

One month. D-30. Whatever the hell you call time before the end of the world.

Your palms sweat a whole lot easier here. It’s a little weird, considering you don’t find much difference in humidity between Seoul and New York. Your heart often catches up in your throat too. Not a great feeling, your heart choking the breath out of you, but you’re used to it. You cope and you learn, that’s what it means to be human.

You pull your hand down before it reaches your teeth. The day ended in a meeting with Taeyong’s production team—everything’s running smoothly so you need not worry, he said. 

Why are those the words that make you worry the most? 

You check the time on your phone. 23:05 and a whole month to go. You better get some sleep for all the meetings you have scheduled tomorrow. You close your eyes and for a while, everything falls quiet.

You dream of New York Fashion Week. People come here to feel included. Everyone wants to be a part of something they don’t understand.

The models walk down the runway in increasingly uncomfortable outfits. You didn’t design any of them. Where are the ones you worked on? You can’t move from your seat, or turn your head from the runway, anything at all. Something’s wrong, everything’s wrong. You don’t belong here. Thunder strikes outside the venue and you wake up with a gasp caught in your throat, and the clock on the bedside table flashing 2:14.

You’ve had enough. You swear you’ve had enough.

You get up out of bed, pacing the giant bedroom, the empty spaces making you feel more and more miserable. The city twinkles with innumerous stars beyond your window, curtains half drawn so they can comfort you whenever you need—but these lights don’t shine for you, or anyone else. They shine for themselves. That’s what it means to be in New York again. 

What time is it in Seoul? Could you call your mother? Joohyun? Everyone must be busy right now—you don’t know what to do. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt so helpless. There’s a reason you’ve been avoiding New York for this long and now it’s come crashing down on you. 

This was a mistake. All of it was a mistake.

You look down at your phone, the light hurting your eyes despite being set to the lowest brightness. You think a little, and then some more. There’s no one else you can call. Even if he’s busy charming all the other employees whenever you see him, even if half the world is in love with him, there’s no one else you can call. This time you don’t stop yourself.

You tap the call button beside the Jung Yoonoh saved neatly. Tapping your foot against the floor nervously, your mind goes blank for a few seconds or so. He answers when you’re just about to hang up, breath hitching in your throat at the sound of his voice.

“Hello? Hello? If this is a reporter—”

“It’s me, Jaehyun.”

The line goes quiet for a moment and your voice overlaps his before he can begin.

“I- I didn’t mean to call so late. Sorry…uh.”

You scrunch up your face at your own voice. This is not getting you anywhere.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, voice lower.

You fall silent, unable to answer without breaking down into tears. You did not call Jung Yoonoh for that. 

“Yeah,” you choke out. “Fine. Completely fine. I just…”

You trail off, trying to get yourself to breathe.

“I’ll send you an address. Be there in an hour.”

You blink back tears, confusion adding to the burning pile of worries inside your head. 

“What?”

“Address. I’ll text you. Be there. One hour.”

“I’m not stupid, Jaehyun,” you snap, strength refilling your voice. “Why?”

“I’m not answering questions, just be there.”

With that, the line goes flat and an embarrassing amount of ‘hello’s get you to realize that he hung up. A notification pops up a minute later and you’re too groggy to decipher it, logging it to Maps instead so you can follow. It’s fifteen minutes away, you realize with a sigh of relief, so you can at least present yourself within the given constraint. 

You can’t grasp what you feel in the moment, the night air and warm streets beckoning you to leave the clamped apartment soaked in fear. You think this is unlike Jaehyun, what he’s doing, but you’re too shaken to care. You need some respite, even if it comes from somewhere you can’t picture.

“You…wanted to meet me at a Korean barbecue restaurant?”

Jaehyun’s ears turn red, as they often do when he doesn’t know how to respond to you.

“I-It’s not that I…Never mind,” he tries to explain, fidgeting with the cloth over his shoulder. “We can go somewhere else if you want.”  

We? You think, eyes scanning his face in confusion. If you want? Where’s the uncaring Jaehyun you’ve known, foreign eyes and impassive lips? He hardly looks the part he’s meant to play—a billboard face with a confident jawline and nothing more behind it. Outside of work—you don’t even know what else to call this—Jaehyun looks hardly intimidating, or abrasive. He seems different, gentle almost, although the dark circles under his eyes might have something to do with it. Maybe he’s too tired to say anything more and that’s it.

But he still came all the way here.

“Aren’t you a little…overdressed?” 

There comes the remark you were hoping to not hear. You just wanted to look nice; you’d hardly call this overboard. The loose, mustard-colored chiffon shirt cinches at the waist, paired with your nicest (only not faded) pair of light blue jeans and shoes that haven’t seen the light of day since you arrived here. You barely ever design clothes for yourself anymore but you thought you looked good in this.

“No,” you defend quickly, feeling your face grow warm. “You’re underdressed.”

You say that, but he clearly looks good in anything he wears. Could you expect any less of  a supermodel? He doesn’t seem to have dressed in as much a hurry as you had. Clad in a plain black T-shirt that’s half tucked into skinny jeans, he’s added his hideous baseball cap and a pair of navy blue shades which looks just as ridiculous as it sounds. You really think he shouldn’t be leaving his house without the help of a stylist. 

“I…I just mean you don’t wear anything other than the same sweater and pants combination to work, so… please excuse my surprise.”

Jaehyun's eyes flicker over your figure before masking it with an awkward cough. You reach out and pull the shades over his head, the look bothering you more than anything else. He doesn’t respond to it, at least not in a way that’s obvious, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to do—you fixing his hair and unquestionably awful sense of style.

“There’s a soju place a few blocks ahead. Or if you’re not into that, there’s a noodle shop just at the edge of K-town,” Jaehyun rambles on, not meeting your eye. “If you’re looking for something inexpensive—"

“You came all the way here to give me directions?” You raise an eyebrow. You might even be enjoying this, although your inner voice bites back at you, denying it.

Jaehyun shakes his head, the red in his ears pulsing back up. “No. I…I needed some fresh air.”

“You…have someplace to be then?”

Jaehyun might not realize it, but the answers he gives always have room for teasing. Aloof. Vague. Yet somehow sweet.

“And you’ll go alone? At this hour? No, I’ll accompany you,” he says out loud, trying to play off the sudden vocal inflection. You sigh. Boys will be boys, as they say. Even if they’re twenty-six.

You let him keep you company. Though the first few minutes are painfully quiet, neither of you knowing quite what to say without starting a disagreement, you continue your walk through a city that never sleeps. It’s awkward even, being side by side without you seething at his charming, (undoubtedly) fake smile. He feels real, for once, and you don’t know how to react. There seem to be some gold-tinted cracks appearing in your reality, slowly but surely, and you’re not very good at patching anything other than fabric.

“You know, it’s actually a little relieving to see Korean letters here,” you say, sighing. You never thought you’d be so corny, but it really does feel good being here. 

Or is it him? 

“Thanks,” you add quietly, hoping he doesn’t hear. No, maybe you do. You can’t tell at this point.

“I…I know what it’s like,” he says, so softly that it almost gets carried away by the wind. He clears his throat, an ‘ah’ escaping his lips as he stops abruptly.

“We…We missed the turn,” he declares, a little sheepish as he scratches the back of his head.

You look at him in disbelief. “Jaehyun, how long have you lived here?”

“Oh, I was born here actually,” he says, tilting his face to look at you, blunt sarcasm evident on it. “How many times have you lost your way to the convenience store in Seoul?”

“Literally zero times.”

Jaehyun puffs a cheek before going back to normal and turning a hundred and eighty degrees down the street.

“Hey, wait up!” you huff at his increased pace, half jogging to keep up.

You reach the acclaimed noodle shop, your breath barely within your lungs and swearing at Jaehyun who looks like he wasn’t bothered one bit. He reaches his hand out to help you and you swat it away, chest still heaving with your hands on your knees.

“Dickhead,” you hiss.

“I don’t think I deserved that,” he responds with a widening smile. 

“Asshole,” you say, standing up straight to glare at him.

“What would Seoul say hearing their beloved designer swear like this?” Jaehyun looks almost amused, as if you hadn’t shared an awkward time together, like two teenagers who were forced to walk home together from the bus stop.

“They can go to hell,” you retort. “As can you.”

Jaehyun laughs, a strange sound to hear and you blink a few times, unsure of what to do. You wonder if it’s the night playing tricks or if Jaehyun really is an actual person, not the basket of preprocessed insults you were used to. The cracks are widening—you’re not sure if they’re meant to be patched.

Perhaps you were a little eager to enter someplace warm, but you feel immense relief in this little shop, despite the smell of chili paste and noodle soup wafting through the air. It’s a little empty; in fact, you two seem to be the only people there apart from some students at the other corner, but you sit there in your own bubble, talking with Jaehyun of all people about which singer is better. He laughs occasionally, still managing to catch you off-guard with how honest it sounds and you wonder for a moment, how nice this feels. For the first time in a month, your heartbeat seems to have settled at a normal rate.

“What?” you enounce, a little offended. “What’s so wrong about my love life?”

“You just- You just don’t seem that type,” he explains, his ears as red as the bowl.

“I don’t have time for commitments, Jaehyun,” you sigh. “It’s what happens when you’re good at your job.”

Jaehyun nods, something akin to agreement in his response. 

“So, your, uh, what is it? Training camp? What’s that about?” you ask, in between blowing your food.

“You could really Google things once in a while, you know?” he replies, bringing his chopsticks close to his mouth.

You roll your eyes. “I’m sorry I’m not one of your creepy stalkers, Mr. Jung.”

“Nothing to do with that,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s for kids interested in fashion, modeling, photography—stuff.”

“Oh? How so?”

“I just sponsor them. You know how difficult it is to get noticed in…this industry,” he explains, like it’s not a big deal. Nothing ever seems to be a big deal to him.

You nod, unable to help the smile. Maybe it isn’t a big deal, but you’re sure now that you were mistaken. Just a little bit. 

“I was lucky,” you mumble. “I can’t believe they saw those ugly embroidered patches and decided to sponsor me, oh my god. That sweater was hideous.”

Jaehyun laughs loudly. “They saw me cleaning outside my school and decided to pick me up and ship me straight to Paris.”

“Nothing’s worse than the first day.” You take another mouthful, the taste savoury and filling. 

“You know, I’m pretty sure they photoshopped my ears out in the first magazine shoot I had.”

You laugh, leaning in a little closer. “Your first year was rough, huh?”

He hums, his eyes flickering from your nose to your lips. It makes you a little self-conscious, blood rushing to your cheeks at an unexpected pace. Who knew Jaehyun could have such an effect on you? 

Your eyes flutter over his face once again.

He’s handsome. But it’s the sort of handsomeness that tells you, you don’t know much beyond it. You look back at your bowl, sobering up and completing the rest of the noodles.

It’s still midnight blue in the faraway sky as you walk down the streets. Most of the people you see out and about are those drunk off their faces from club hopping or a particularly enthusiastic group of tourists. The watermelon soju, while better with budae-jjigae and arguably the best soju flavor, somehow had little effect on you with the bitter aftertaste still settling in. The crowds in other places would make for great people-watching but you walk in a lonely street that calls for proximity. Beside you, Jaehyun sneezes, the sound of it making you jump on the quiet sidewalk.

“Jesus Christ, Jaehyun,” you huff, wincing at the sound, “you sounded like a fucking tractor.”

Jaehyun laughs, looking down at the pavement. When he looks back at you, the circles underneath his eyes seem to have darkened and you wonder if yours are the same. Yours can’t possibly be as important as his, though, and you wonder if it’s appropriate to laugh at how dorky he looks.

You find yourself not wanting to walk back into the safety of your suite. Jaehyun has a look of calm across his features, drawing over the landscape around you. New York lights don’t faze him, they only reflect in his eyes. 

The way his soft breaths fan out against his lips remind you that he is human, after all—he has a soul and body, thoughts and its beautiful intricacies. When he turns back to you, you feel those criminal feelings all over again, except this time it’s even louder. It feels so wrong, and yet you can’t help but think of the liberation that could come with his lips on yours. 

You could swear out loud, all the colorful words ready at the tip of your tongue.

“Your collar’s…”

Jaehyun’s voice trails off, his hand moving to fix your flipped collar, and when the heat of his skin brushes your neck, you try to not think of where else his hands could be, his lips could be. 

In fact, there’s a moment within where it’s perfectly reasonable for him to kiss you, the taste almost on your tongue. But Jaehyun moves away, an indecipherable look across his face.

“I should get going,” he says, “I have a- I have a shoot early tomorrow—today.”

You nod, cheeks coloring at your own unsaid thoughts. Just what have you done to yourself? Why is your skin searing, why does your stomach feel upside down and why were you so ready to give in to him? To Jaehyun? You’ve never felt want like this before, this need to press skin against skin in a manner so illicit. 

You part with a short goodbye, the sudden loneliness in your path making you want to backtrack, ask if you can go somewhere else again—maybe there’s a club nearby so you can see him through a round of shots as you usually do. Maybe the bitter feelings will return then. 

When you think of the words you exchanged over the course of so unusual a night—your former unforgiving words contradict you. You hate the realization but being so obscure in front of a camera doesn’t have to mean he’s pretentious. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe someday you’ll even admit it.

You feel a flash of heat in your face. You are not running to Jung Yoonoh—what an embarrassing thought. If the very core of your being isn’t repulsed by it, there’s something wrong with you. 

There’s something definitely wrong with you, love.

You breathe sharply, trying to organize your thoughts. As if the paparazzi wouldn’t have a treat out of this meeting you had with him if they got to know. You’d better limit it to the only one.

You bite your nails out of force of habit. It’s not going to help. You know. But there’s hardly anything else to cool your nerves.

Front row tickets to New York Fashion Week—the most mortifying dream out of all the ones you’ve ever had. The way Taeyong fidgets, you want to believe he’s in the same boat as you—it makes you thankful even. 

Even outside of New York, Lee Taeyong is known for booking out exclusively intimate spaces. There are some props for the pre-show photography, including inked sketches on giant vertical banners stuck to the walls and tables with a messy collection of coffee cans, pencils and a sewing machine. Diverse types of fabric roll off the table in long strips, gently lining the floor till they end midway to another table. It’s a mess—a mess you made look good.

You’d left that and the backstage behind now. All eyes are on the sparsely lit runway, your aspirations coating the air in a thick veil. Are you ready? You won’t know till the first model steps out and till you can elicit a response from the audience.

Jaehyun’s at another venue—career before friendship, or, heaven forbid, attraction. You’d seen the fitting, cape skirt doing daringly well with his long legs clad in black pants, and a classy vest over a ruffled white shirt. You hate seeing other designs before a show, but god, were you glad you’d visited Givenchy to meet Johnny. 

But you’re relieved even, that Jaehyun isn’t here. You don’t have the strength to face him anyway, all your energy directed into this chasm of whatever you’d call six months of effort. You want to call yourself accomplished. You want to be proud of yourself.

So this time, you remember all twenty-six minutes of it.

God, they look so beautiful up there, when they’re being looked at, seen for what they are—you’ll never get over it. There’s still hardly much to remember, except this time you’re happy to do it all over again. Effort only exists if it’s acknowledged.

It settles in quite a while later, the weight of all you’d done. You could almost cry, but that’s better left to pillows and the unrelenting skies above a midnight-coated rooftop. This is your moment. For once, you’re anything but afraid. 

Afterparties are still not your thing. 

However, you had your nicest outfit picked out and Lee Taeyong’s fancy, themed afterparties are something notorious among your colleagues. You’ve heard designers tend to go all out, wearing the best things they’ve designed even if it makes them a little embarrassed to be wearing their own work.

You feel a sigh leave your lips as you finally find a place to sit, your earlier conversations leaving you drained of social energy. You don’t feel alien—it’s strange—and their compliments feel almost warm. The music playing over the speakers is something, you’re sure, from a 60’s American movie, and while it has its own strange allure, the champagne gives you a larger dose of relief. 

In fact, if you’re not mistaken, it’s quite like the ballroom in Paris, although significantly smaller. Burgundy wallpaper and lit up crystals hanging in hexagonal shapes across the ceiling—it’d look lovely on a dress too.

Taeyong’s speech, of course, gives you a spike of anxiety with the sudden announcement of his label’s future, a brand now. He smiles on the small podium, everyone admiring his radiance when suddenly he gestures at you, the glass in your hand feeling hotter and hotter.

“…I couldn’t do this without the only designer I felt was up to this—the first designer to work under my brand, as of now…” 

You try not to blush under all the pairs of eyes that turn to you. 

“(name), thank you.” 

Success feels good. Gratitude feels even better.

Everything feels natural, as if a dream gone right. You’re no longer afraid of the world you stepped into, or the accumulation of feelings that molded you into the person you are now. The confidence you so chased after as if it were morphine, you’re going to be keeping an eye on it before it can run away again.

There’s still one little problem to your night of triumph, though. 

Jaehyun hasn’t taken his eyes off you ever since you entered, a conversation yet pending. You already know he looks good in the plainest of T-shirts, so it might be a no-brainer that he looks absolutely stunning in a suit. The crystals lining the lapels of his coat glimmer amidst the crowd he’s gathered. It’s hard to come in contact, however. He’s magnetic, almost formidable in the way he attracts attention, and you know it’s something that comes with being a man of few words. 

“You’re not enjoying the party?” you ask, taking in Jaehyun’s figure on the veranda overlooking the garden. He sits on one of the mahogany chairs, swirling the glass of champagne with a look of indifference coating his eyes and lips.

“I am,” he says, turning to face you. “Needed a short break.”

“I suppose being the most attractive man in the room needs a break,” you say, taking a seat beside him.

A wry laugh leaves his lips, as he lays his eyes on you. “You don’t seem bothered by it though?”

“I believe that pretty is as pretty does,” you say, your lips twitching.

Jaehyun smiles, furrowing his eyebrows yet still. “You think multimillionaire companies are built on things like inner beauty?”

He’s right. What’s inside is beautiful—it’s too idealistic a phrase. You sigh, adjusting your sleeve. It’s a difficult life, walking the runway no one dares to step on. 

I think you’d make that cut too, you want to tell him.

“You know the best thing I got told today?” you ask, diverting the stream of conversation. You think he’s a friend. Even if it could be the champagne talking. Even if you want something more than the innocence of friendship. 

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “Did Cristóbal Balenciaga’s ghost show up to compliment you?”

“No,” you emphasize, laughing at his pronunciation. “It was this girl. A student. Said she wrote an essay about me.”

Jaehyun hums, dimples marking his cheeks. “I didn’t know a student could get you so giddy.”

You laugh, looking down at your hands before resting your gaze on him again. He leans forward in his seat, strands of hair falling over his face from the rest and a contemplating look over his features. He looks much, much different from when you first saw him, and even handsomer, if that were possible. He’s grown up from the awkward boy you saw in the press release pictures of the Saint Laurent Fall Collection—he looks sharp and valiant on front covers, his shoulders broad and his eyes darling. Jaehyun is still unironically the most breathtaking man you’ve ever met. He might even be one of the sweetest, inside out. 

You look to his lips, full as ever. Perhaps you have something to confess. Secrets aren’t meant to be kept so long.

“Jaehyun,” you call, bringing his attention before faltering. It’s not like you’re the only one fawning over his smile. You get up instead, excusing yourself. “I’ll see you inside I suppose.”

“You know I like you, right?”

You turn around. “What?”

Jaehyun gets up, brushing his suit and fixing the lapels. The gentle night haze and the contrasting calls of the brightly lit party inside brush over an effect you’ve never felt before. “I…I like you. It’s pretty straightforward, I think.”

You deny it, or rather, some repressed little emotion inside you denies it vehemently. “Jaehyun, really. I admit I was a complete asshole to you and- and...it was…kind of you to accompany me that night but—”

“Stop. Don’t- Don’t call that kind. You’re not seeing the full picture.”

You stand there, unsure of what to do as you feel your chest grow warmer. Jaehyun turns his head upwards, letting out an audible breath. You can see conflict on his face, the struggle of someone still mulling over the perfect words.

“I don’t hate you. I never really hated you even if I wanted to.”

You suppose it wouldn’t be the right time to say that you might have indulged in that.

“I did,” you confess. “I hated you for a very, very long time, Jaehyun.”

“I know,” he whispers, looking straight at you. “I didn’t mean to leave you hanging—”

“Jaehyun, I don’t care about that,” you say, your voice rising, “You told me you felt suffocated in bow ties and laughed when I asked if you wanted to run away with me. I just ended up thinking you were a goddamn liar.”  

“Fine,” he says quietly in his baritone timbre, sounds of the chatter from inside numbing away. “Then let me be honest.”

“When I met you, I thought there was someone like me doing just the same—so…suddenly in the midst of everything. Even if you were a complete asshole to me. You were still real.”

He phrases it delicately, lilting, as if that hasn’t been your whole purpose here.  He’s only a breath away from you, but you don’t want to push him away this time. There’s a moment’s pause.

“Between work and myself, which is more important? For once, I thought I could answer that question.”

Your breaths are soft and shallow as they fall, trying to understand his words.

“And then you just fucking stopped. You stopped flying out and I’d barely see you outside of Seoul like you- like you gave up or something. I didn’t understand—what happened to you?”

Jaehyun looks at you with a hardened expression, ears turning red as if he hadn’t expected this outburst of truth. He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. It’s not like him to open his mouth and let out words that are raw and honest; it makes you feel the weight even more. You were still kids that night. You’re not anymore.

“Jaehyun,” you whisper before reaching your hand out and placing it against his cheek.

It’s so hard to not take in the details. The prominence of the muscle by his mouth when he speaks, the fine lines by his nose which appear sporadically or the look of complete reverence in his eyes when he’s staring at you like this—everything those runway shots can’t possibly capture. Your eyes trail to his lips, your own drawn to it with a desire you don’t know how to comprehend—and don’t quite wish to, either.

You want to believe he made the first move but you give in so easy, it’s alarming. Your lips move against his in a rhythm new and frantic, his hands gripping you with full strength at the waist and you part your lips to allow a deeper kiss. Your hands are free to roam his perfectly styled hair, tousling it in a fashion that makes him groan, only to push you harder against the wall. 

“I should’ve- I should’ve let you kiss me that night,” he mumbles against your lips. “Maybe I…I wouldn’t have made you hate me.”

“Maybe you should shut up and kiss me right now,” you respond, your tongue pressing against his, effectively doing the job.

It’s not difficult to see stars when his hips press against yours, his hand resting on one thigh to pull it up slightly. You feel the impact of it head-on, almost moaning out loud when his fingers press harder against the back of your thigh.

“Tell me- Tell me you want this,” he breathes out when he breaks the kiss.

You respond with reconnecting your lips, your tongue sliding against his in fervent affirmations. You’ve already forfeited your modesty, there’s no reason to stop.

You leave early, getting into the car you’d booked for the night. It would be far more embarrassing were it not for the separation between the front and backseats, when Jaehyun’s hands are up your clothes and his lips rough against your neck. The lip colour has smudged by the side of Jaehyun’s lips, a short giggle escaping you when you notice. It’s not enough to halt the kissing, or feeling each other up —something that feels long overdue. You try to keep your sounds to a minimum but Jaehyun seems to not care about things as worthless as shame, at least for the moment.

“Well, you’re about as graceful as a sea lion when you’re off the runway,” you hiss when Jaehyun’s teeth prick your skin.

“I haven’t done this in a while,” he responds in a low tone, the rest of his retort pushed away by his lips against your mouth.

You don’t have time to take in the details of Jaehyun’s apartment because he’s already carrying you to the bed, your legs around his waist and continuing to kiss you as if making up for something. All those years, you could have been doing this. Maybe you do have some regrets.

The material of his dress shirt feels expensive but clothes are not what you need right now. His phone rings once but he drags a finger over it to reject the call, his mouth still pressing against your collarbone. The only sounds you hear are rugged breathing and you fumbling with the buttons of his shirt as you pull it over his shoulders. The city lights below you reach through the drawn curtains, all the unrelenting complicacies left behind in those faraway streets.

Jaehyun makes a sound of annoyance at the phone ringing yet again. He breaks apart from you, receiving the call while his fingers massage his temple.

“Hyung, I’m fine. I’ll talk to you later—”

“I was just wondering where you disappeared and you don’t even grace me with a hello?” Johnny’s voice rings clear in the all too silent bedroom.

“Hyung—”

“Wait a minute.” There’s a pause within which Jaehyun seems to tense up. “Are you fucking? Like did you leave the party to get la—”

“Hyung. I’m hanging up.” 

The coral pink spread over his ears is almost as pretty as the look of pure annoyance over his face.

“That—”

“Didn’t happen,” you complete, giggling. If someone were to tell you’d be seeing Jaehyun like this a few months ago, you wouldn’t know whether to be embarrassed or exhilarated.

You place your hand at the nape of his neck, pulling him into another kiss.

Sex is barely ever beautiful—even if it’s Jung Yoonoh over you, planting kisses from your mouth to jaw, neck to chest and whispering sweet, delicious words against each part. He certainly knows how to use that tongue of his, better than you’d expect from a boy so pristine.

It doesn’t matter if it’s not beautiful, when it’s just like a slow dance—in shared solace and love out of time. You bite your lips to stop smiling too often for it to feel as serious and indifferent as all the other times. Sometimes you feel Jaehyun grinning into the crook of your neck, the giddiness of love taking over the movement of your hips against his. The perfect anatomy of his, paired with his candied words makes you think that maybe you do fit together.

Jaehyun pushes into you at a steady pace, your fingers digging into his back and over his shoulder blades only to draw out sounds more pleasing to your ears. You let someone else take charge for once, his praising whispers of ‘that’s my baby’ or ‘you just look so good’ far too teasing but he follows through, your body barely able to respond apart from shaking and shuddering till you reach your high. 

The sound of skin against skin dies down well into the night and you get cleaned, still blissed out from making the summit of all your senses. It’s warm inside, despite turning the air conditioner on.

“Jaehyun,” you call, lowering yourself to press a quick kiss to his lips. 

“Hm?” He gives you a drowsy smile, arm under his head and hair sticking to his forehead funny.

“Did you really not hate me? Not even once?” You rest your cheek against your palm as you lie beside him.

Even under the dim lights, it’s not hard to spot the blush on him when he positively glows. Jaehyun reminds you of warm auburn and the touch of cool satin—it’s easy to make things, find inspiration in love.

“Oh my god, you were lying!” you accuse, sitting up straight. “There’s no way you didn’t hate me. I called your modeling as good as a coconut’s!”

“As you so love to remind me,” he mumbles.

There’s a brief moment before the two of you crack up, his deep laughter perfectly mismatched with yours. There’s hardly many sounds on the eighteenth floor, but maybe you’ve always been yearning for this privacy—this proximity in shared laughter and warm touches. 

“No, I didn’t,” Jaehyun answers your question after it’s quiet once again. “I thought...I think you’re…”

Jaehyun trails off, his eyes flickering over your face before fixing on your lips as his own tug into a smile. He gulps. “I think we’d be in trouble if the paparazzi saw us throwing choice words at each other, don’t you think? You were barely out of school then.”

“Me?” You laugh. “You were thinking about me?”

“And a little bit about me.” 

You fall asleep against Jaehyun’s chest with the certainty of kinder tomorrows, a thing he teaches you through whispers against the pillow and fingers playing with your hair. There’s something private in the way he holds your face, something delicate and homely running from his long fingers to his flushed knuckles and the rest of his hand as it presses against your cheek. It’s warm here, and safe, and maybe home is where the heart is, after all.

“Really? You’re not even a little bit sad I’m leaving?” you ask, placing your hand over your heart. “Who’s going to help you when you’re getting bullied in the workplace now?”

Doyoung huffs in annoyance, placing the box down beside the moving truck. “You’re the only one who bullies me in the workplace.”

You adjust the ugly baseball cap on your head, the one Jaehyun had pulled over your head in an attempt to stop you from complaining about his messy apartment. You hadn’t realized you’d worn it all the way to Seoul till the articles about your questionable choice of accessories had surfaced.

“Your boyfriend’s calling,” Doyoung says, making a face as he picks your phone up from the box near him. “I can’t even believe this. All those years of flirting and—”

You snatch it from him, glaring at him for the choice of words. He raises his hands defensively, rolling his eyes at your sudden movement.

“Are you sure you don’t want me flying to Seoul?”

“Unless you’re planning to work in a truck rental.”

You hear Jaehyun laugh on the other side of the line. Is it normal to have blood rush straight from your chest to your ears at the sound of laughter? You hope that doesn’t change.

You’d visited him a day before your flight. It hasn’t been all that long but Jaehyun certainly makes it out to be, just so he can use his cheesy one-liners. You try not to smile thinking about how he had flung his hair band out, immediately tousling his hair back into a pretty mess and struggling to keep a straight face when you’d visited out of the blue. Jaehyun wakes up at one in the afternoon when his schedule is empty and it had appalled you enough to help him out with basic chores before you left. (It didn’t end well. He kept putting his chin on your shoulder and sneaking his arms around you while you did the dishes.)

“(name)? (name), are you daydreaming again?” 

You sigh. “You can’t wait three more days, Jae? It’s, what, one in the morning there!”

“Do you want me saying something cheesy?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I don’t think I can sleep without waking up to your face.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, unable to grace him with a response. The dreamy languor in his voice is more than recognizable and if you’re not mistaken, he’s going to be saying something highly inappropriate.

“Do you know what dream I had last night?” he asks, the smile almost evident with how suggestive it sounds.

“Jaehyun, no,” you warn before lowering your voice. “I swear if it’s another dirty dream—”

“Come home and I’ll tell you all about it. With demonstrations.”

This time you can’t help the laughter, trying to mask it with a cough only to fail. You push the back of your hand against your cheek in order to soothe the involuntary blush. Your perfume smells just like him, and you realize suddenly why he’d gifted it to you.

“That definitely makes me want to leave faster,” you quip.

“I certainly hope so.”

It’s different now, especially if you remember your feelings just last February. Change feels easy for the first time in your life. You check off your list of items, counting the boxes as they’re lifted onto the truck. It took a good amount of thinking, and a bunch of fights before you could decide. New York isn’t so bad. Not when you have reason to be there. You’d like to call it love.

A list of things you do appreciate: Jung Yoonoh. Jaehyun. Whatever.

[thefanficmonster]

Bouquet

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having come clean about being single for a very long time now and considering herself completely out of the dating scene, Y/N’s confession is taken and responded to with a ton of kindness, especially from a special someone...

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your lovely request, it was such a joy to write! I’m so sorry for the long wait you had to go through but the fic is finally here and I hope you enjoy reading it! Love, Vy ❤

I roll out of bed with little to no desire to start my day. We haven’t got a scheduled stream for today and the clouds glooming in the sky seem to be promising rain so really what do I have to get up for except that it’s a rule society installed?

Just kidding, I’m basically stalling and that’s all.

So what happened was the streamer gang and I were playing Among Us last night and our conversation during the pause between rounds somehow swerved into relationship territory. I stayed quiet the majority of if not all the time because I had no valid input to offer. 

If you know me you know I’m not one of the performers on the dating scene. I have never really confirmed it with my fans - well, until last night, that is - but I bet they have picked up on that fact considering I’ve been on YouTube for around a decade and have never had a partner. That being said, I’d have to also mention that I have in fact dated but someone but it was before my YouTube era started. Me choosing this career path, which back then was just a hobby, had nothing to do with the relationship ending but it still motivated me to not to actively look for a relationship while I’m still focused on my career. It’s too much work, too much stress and requires a lot of balance I most certainly either don’t have or I don’t have the energy to put in balancing my romantic and professional lives. Luckily, no one’s ever pressured me into finding a significant other, not yet at least, so no societal pressure for me!

But I gotta admit I felt real awkward admitting all this last night.

“Hey Y/N what do you think? You’ve been awfully quiet?“ Rae asks, causing me to jolt in my seat from where I’ve been reading my chat for the past five minutes, my mic muted.

I quickly unmute to reply, blushing ever so slightly, “Um, sorry I was reading my chat. What do I think about what?”

“The gesture of giving flowers to your significant other, is it romantic or a waste of money and plant murder?“ Rae explains, still managing to catch me off-guard with her question.

I ponder what my response should be for a little bit before deciding to level it to a neutral level where I almost sound indifferent, “It is in fact plant murder basically and artificial flowers would definitely be a better gift - plus they’ll last longer.”

“Mhmm yeah that’s true.“ Poki agrees with me, “But there’s still the question of whether it’s a romantic gesture or not. I personally don’t think it’s overrated or cheesy, I actually quite like it. What about you, Y/N?“

And now she’s got me in a real trap that I can’t wiggle out of without speaking my truth. I don’t know where this sudden anxiety around the subject came from but it now resides within me rent free and makes me feel self-conscious and embarrassed of the confession I’m inevitably make.

“Um, I wouldn’t know for certain, I’ve never received flowers myself...“ I say sheepishly, cringing at the sound of my own voice, “It’s not like I’ve dated plenty of people and the one guy I did date wasn’t really romantic or anything, I mean - we were teenagers, after all. But when I think about it in theory I think I’d like the gesture: it’s thoughtful, plus you get a temporary but beautiful piece of décor out of it.“

I’m gonna hope I didn’t sound too pitiful or desperate. Of course I’m not gonna check afterward on the stream cause I’d rather live in the illusion of having sounded humorous rather than be given the confirmation that I didn’t.

“Wait, wait, wait, did you date your last boyfriend like a decade ago?“ Corpse is now the one talking and that makes me feel even more anxious. This is not the impression one would want to give to their crush, is it? Oh well, no turning back now.

“Correct.“ I reply with a laugh that I hope didn’t sound as nervous as it was.

“And you’ve never, like in your whole life, received flowers from someone?“ He sounds astonished which sort of makes me want to shrink up in my shell like a turtle. Too bad I don’t have a shell though. I’m genuinely thinking of the option to rip the router out of the outlet right now to save me the troubles but I’m not that immature. I’m surprised I’m even reacting this way - this topic doesn’t usually bother me at all but now for some reason I’m red as a tomato and shrinking in my chair. 

I know what the obvious answer is but I’d rather die than admit to it.

“Yeah, yeah, I know it sounds bad but I really don’t care.“ I make an attempt at changing the subject, swerving it back to the main topic rather than my lack of a love life, “I do, in fact, find the gesture sweet - it adds vibrancy to the relationship just like the flowers would add vibrancy and color to the space they’re put in.“

“Oh my gosh, that’s such a cool analogy!“ Rae gushes, “You’re totally right, it might be an old trick, but it’s aged like fine wine.“

Phew, God bless you Rae.

“Exactly, exactly.“ Corpse agrees as well but I don’t think he’s fully heard what Rae said since he sounds to have fallen in deep thought.

At least I got away with it with only making a SLIGHT nervous wreck of myself.

Yikes, was that horrible, though I don’t people will remember it for long. Sure, my fans have sent me thousands of lovely messages and pictures of bouquets and will maybe continue sending them for another day or two - which I highly appreciate, don’t get me wrong. I’m severely touched by this gesture of theirs and it almost makes me glad I finally ‘came clean’ about my romance-less life - however, it’ll fade overtime. I mean, who the heck cares if I’m single or not?

As I pour the milk over my cheerios which I’ve been snacking on dry for the past half hour as I rifled through the many notifications clogging up my lock screen, I hear the doorbell ring. I’m understandably puzzled by this, seeing as how I never get visitors so that doorbell rings only when I’ve ordered something, be it takeout or a random item off Amazon. However, I can’t remember ordering anything, at least not anything that should be arriving at the moment or even anytime soon - that glow-in-the dark curtain isn’t supposed to arrive until next week.  I make my way to the door, unbothered by the fact I’m still in my pajamas, and take a look through the peephole.

It’s a delivery guy...and he happens to be holding a huge-ass bouquet.

“What the...“ I mutter to myself as I unlock and swing open the door in the blink of an eye, “Hi?“

“Hi there, are you Y/N L/N?“ The delivery guy, who I’ve seen many times before and who I’m on pretty friendly terms with, asks me jokingly, sending a wink my way.

“I sure am.“ I reply, my gaze fixated on the breathtaking flowers he’s holding, “But those can’t be for me, that’s for sure.“

He fishes looks at his clipboard one more time, nodding before he looks back at me, “I double and triple checked, Y/N, they’re for you. Here, have a look if you don’t believe me.” He turns the clipboard  for me to see and he is actually telling the truth. I mean, I doubt he’d have any reason to lie to me but mix-ups happen all the time.

“Um, ok thanks. Sorry for the halt, it’s just...I’d hate to be the recipient of the flowers meant for another girl.” I apologize as I take the bouquet for him, still in awe of the fact I’m the one it was made and meant for and sent to.

I say a quick ‘bye’ to the delivery guy before practically running inside to inspect this bouquet for a card from the sender. I have my guesses: it has to be someone who was present during the stream last night and someone who knows my address. Hopefully it’s someone from my friend group and not a fan who watched the stream and just happens to know my address. I’d still appreciate the gesture, but I’d also install security cameras if that was the case.

Something about the color scheme of the flowers - pink and black - gives me Rae vibes since she constantly teases me about my aesthetics contradicting each other. But then again, Poki does it too so it could be her as well....

Oh...OH GOD IT’S NEITHER OF THEM

                                                               ~ ~ ~

I’ve been sitting here, keeping myself a safe distance from my phone so I’m not the first one to send her a text. So I don’t ask if she got what I sent her. So I don’t ask what she thought of it, how the bouquet looks in her living room, how it smells, how it makes her feel. I have so many questions so that phone is best off at a major distance from me. I’m the one who’s better off with such a huge distance between me and the device, to be perfectly honest.

Was it a bad idea? Should I have slept on it - or just thought about it longer cause sleep and I don’t get along? Should I have at least waited a day or two? Should I-

My phone vibrates with a notification and I practically fly to it from across the room, grabbing it and unlocking it asap. My heart sinks and takes off like a rocket simultaneously when I see I’ve been tagged in Y/N’s Instagram story. I nervously tap the notification that sends me to the picture of the bouquet I sent her with some text written over it.

“Thank you, Romeo ;)“

Somehow that one sentence answers all those aforementioned questions.

Is this what people refer to as butterflies in one’s stomach? Cause it feels significantly more like a crush...oh wait.

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