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twogyuu · 1 year

Text

reel love [part 2]

Pairing: Vernon x fem!reader (minor/brief Mingyu x fem!reader)

Featuring: Seungkwan, Yeri, Jihoon; mentions of Soonyoung, Wonwoo, and Jun

Synopsis: Tired of seeing you hopelessly pine over Mingyu after all these years, your best friends, Seungkwan and Vernon (by default - not by choice), take it upon themselves to set you up with the dreamy art major. Even if everything goes as planned, what happens when you find yourself falling for one of your wingmen instead?

Genre: Fluff, crack, minor angst, slowburn, film major!Vernon, art major!Mingyu, environmental engineering major!Seungkwan, mechE major!Wonwoo, psych major!Yeri, math major!reader, F2L, idiots-to-lovers, one-sided to mutual pining

Warnings: Profanity, alcohol/drinking games, brief mentions of food, brief talks about sex bc one of them is dirty-minded, references to ATLA

WC: ~8k

If you would like to be added to the series taglist, please send an ask to ensure you're on it! I try my best to keep up with the requests in the comments and DMs, but it's not always a guarantee I'll remember to check them since I keep track of the taglist via the tags. Thank you!

A/N: This might be the last update in a hot minute! I've been in a weird writing slump and I want to give this fic the time and attention it deserves. Might take a little break to just recuperate - I'm determined to finish it though! Cheers and happy reading! I hope 2023 is treating you all well 💙

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“Look around you. What do you see?”

“Um . . . the mail system?”

“Instead of seeing what they want you to see, you gotta open your brain to the possibilities.”

“A package sending system?”

“The world’s greatest super slide!”

“Bumi, you’re a mad genius.”

The sound of young King Bumi’s snort laugh was cut short as the pressure in Vernon’s right grew light, his earbud abruptly plucked out. Glancing in that direction, he found you dressed in your signature oversized jean jacket, smiling playfully at him while your hand blindly rearranged his things on the chair and desk space next to him to make room for you to sit.

“Whatcha doing?” you chirped, handing his earbud back to him. You settled into the seat, bouncing slightly in the spinning office chair.

Vernon pressed the spacebar of his laptop to pause the episode. “Searching for inspiration.”

“In Avatar: The Last Airbender?” you asked. You side glanced at him while fishing for your Applied Linear Algebra textbook in your bag.

Vernon folded his arms over his chest and nodded, matter-of-factly. “Yeah.”

“What do you need inspiration for?”

“My senior project,” he replied. He lifted his snapback, brushing back his dark brown locks before putting it back on, rocking it back and forth until he deemed it comfortable. A soft hum fell from your lips and you nodded, continuing to listen attentively – you always did. Vernon further explained, “We have to make a short film, max of thirty minutes, in order to graduate. There are certain elements of filmmaking we have to include, but for the most part, the creative freedom is ours – it’s eligible for submission to the Yoon Family Film Festival.”

“Yoon Family . . .” your voice trailed off. You tapped your chin with your pen, racking your brain for faces to associate with the surname. It was a moderately common last name, but they wouldn’t name a film festival after just anyone.

“Yeah,” Vernon shrugged, “Yoon Family – as in Yoon Jeonghan? The actor?”

You snapped your fingers and pointed at Vernon excitedly. “That’s right – the dreamy one? With the pretty eyes?”

“Um,” he hummed. Vernon pressed his lips into a frown. “I guess . . . but yeah? He’s an acting prodigy – a huge sponsor of the film festival, which is why they named it after him. He comes every year.”

“Wah,” you said breathlessly. “Hansol, that would be huge if you did!”

He chuckled, “I dunno . . . we’ll see. I have to come up with some usable content – ideas first,” Vernon fiddled with his earbud, “I just want to pass the class honestly.”

You hummed in understanding, folding your arms over your chest. You pursed your lips, feeling mildly frustrated for your friend – this was a huge opportunity. You’ve seen some of Vernon’s past story outlines and a few short films he’s made for previous classes. They were . . . unconventional, to put it nicely. He shoots scenes from awkward angles, his plots always leave you more questions than when you entered, and his characters were strange, but he wasn’t hopeless. Even if they may not appeal to the general public, you like to think his ideas are before its time and if comes across the right person, he very well could be going somewhere. You hoped he wouldn’t waste it.

Slapping your hand onto the table, the plastic pen clicking loudly onto the wood, you asked, “You’re gonna make yours about a bald kid who needs to save the world before an emotionally neglected edgy teenager with a ponytail and his insane family literally sets it aflame?”

Vernon scoffed, the left corner of his lips lifting a little higher than his right at the tease. Though you’d never admit it, he knew Avatar: The Last Airbender was one of the few series he was able to convince to watch with him and actually enjoyed it. He still remembers it like it was yesterday. It was the winter break of your first year of university. While all your friends had gone home to their families, the two of you were stuck on campus because of a snowstorm delaying both of your flights for at least a week. You refused to enter the boys’ dorm – the smell of dirty socks and Axe cologne gave you a headache. Hence, Vernon snuck into the girls’ dorm through your window (you lived on the second floor only). The two of you binged the entire series in the span of four days, huddled over the tiny screen of his MacBook Air, shoulders pressed up against one another and snacks from the convenience store two blocks away strewn across your bed because the dining hall was closed.

“No,” Vernon shoved your shoulder playfully, eliciting a giggle from you. “It just has a lot of good life lessons.”

“Which episode are you on?” you leaned over to look at his screen, nearly halfway in his lap.

“None in particular,” he hummed, “Omashu is one of my favorite arcs, so I’ve been hopping between season one and two to piece together the full story.”

“Introduction of the ‘my cabbages’ man, again, huh?”

Vernon chortled, shaking his head. “Is that all you remembered?”

You pointed at him knowingly. “You told me he was significantly insignificant – no one knows his name or his purpose, but provides consistency and comedic relief.”

“I did tell you that,” Vernon pouted. He slumped in his seat, squirming from side to side to position himself comfortably in front of his laptop.

“Can I watch with you?” you asked hopefully.

Vernon pointed at your textbook already flipped open to the exercises in the back of chapter sixteen, your notebook opened to a clean sheet of blue-lined grids. “Don’t you have homework to do?”

You waved him off, casually dismissing him and your dizzy page of numbers and equations. “I can do it later tonight – it’s just applied algebra anyways.”

Already placing the earbud in your own ear, your shoulder pressing up against your own. It’s not the first time the both of you watched movies like this – you did it in freshman like he recalled; however, for some reason, Vernon found his breath hitching with you being this close. He caught a whiff of the fabric softener you used: Suavitel Field Flower. He borrowed it a while ago when his own ran out. You weren’t a huge fan of perfumes – the strong artificial scent made your head ache.

“F-fine,” Vernon muttered. His thumb hovered over the spacebar as he willed himself to breathe evenly before pressing play again.

As the episode continued, shared chuckles and gasps being passed between the two of you despite having seen the show already, Vernon fell into a comfortable rhythm with you again. The strange burst of nerves long forgotten, settling into a comfortable silence with you again as the both of you grew invested in the plot.

“How are we gonna find our ways out of these tunnels?”

“I have a crazy idea.”

“What?”

“Nevermind – it’s too crazy.”

“Katara, what is it?”

“I was thinking . . . the curse said we’d be trapped in here forever unless we trust in love.”

“Right.”

“And here it says ‘love is brightest in the dark’ and has a picture of them kissing.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Well . . . what if we kissed?”

A firm hand clamped onto both of your shoulders, tearing Vernon’s and your attention from the screen. Synchronously, you both looked up to find Seungkwan hovering hauntingly over the both of you.

“What are you guys doing?” Seungkwan whispered rather loudly. He did his best to keep his voice down – he often got scolded by the librarian for being “too chatty,” and well, loud.

“Oh, hey Seungkwan,” Vernon sucked in a sharp breath. He stretched his arms over his head and yawned.

Seungkwan rounded the corner of the table and settled in the wooden seats across from you. “Watching more Avatar? Haven’t you guys seen that already?”

“Searching for inspiration,” you corrected him.

Seungkwan raised his eyebrows, shrugging in nonchalance. “You two have always had strange traditions without me – I won’t question it.”

“Done with class for the day?” you ignored his comment, changing the subject.

“Yes, thank god,” Seungkwan let out a heavy sigh. He revealed a small blue notebook that he was clutching closely to his chest earlier, the metallic spine clattering against the table. “We have more important matters to attend to.”

It was now Vernon’s turn to cock an eyebrow in curiosity. He exited his Netflix account and shut his laptop.

“Important as in. . .?” you asked.

Licking his fingers, Seungkwan flipped to a clean, cream-colored page. He untucked a fine point gel pen from behind his ear, already spinning it around his first two fingers. There was a dark, almost seductive look in his eyes. Seungkwan wiggled his eyebrows flirtatiously, replying, “Your destiny with Mingyu, of course.”

Your eyes widened, heat already creeping across your cheek. “Y-you’re kidding,” doing your best to hide your embarrassment in a monotone voice.

“Am afraid not,” Seungkwan replied, articulating each word carefully for you to hear clearly.

“What are we doing? Taking meeting minutes for this?” Vernon asked jokingly.

Seugnkwan scrawled the date on the corner, then ‘Operation Mingyu + Y/N: Grandmaster Plan.’

“Bingo!” he chirped, “We need to do this strategically if we want Y/N to succeed,” Seungkwan held out his hand as if it was obvious. He gestured at Vernon and then himself. “As we’re her wingmen, we have to plan.”

“Wingmen?” Vernon repeated. “Wait I never –”

“It’s obligatory as her best friend,” Seungkwan raised a hand to stop him. “You have to help me – I can’t and I won’t do this alone.”

The stern look on Seungkwan’s face told Vernon there was no use arguing. Whether or not he wanted to join hands with Seungkwan to help you achieve your goal was out of question. Seungkwan was your best friend and so was Vernon; therefore, Vernon would also have to be a wingman.

Nonetheless, Vernon tried to get out of it.

“Yeri?” he asked hesitantly.

“I mean, she’s additional help most definitely, but more . . . emotional support for Y/N? Yeri doesn’t know Mingyu well like I do and it would be kind of obvious if we just sent her in hyping up Y/N and thrusting him her way. Yeri's kind of easily excitable,” Seungkwan explained as if it was obvious. “It’s easier to be discreet this way – dude-to-dude and you’re not suspicious at the least.”

Vernon let out a heavy sigh, folding his arms over his chest. He looked to his right, silently letting Seungkwan have it his way. The latter smiled, pleased.

“‘Grandmaster plan’?” you frowned. “That’s corny and so . . . calculated.”

“Corny and calculated, but I guarantee you it will work,” Seungkwan tapped his pen against the stack of sheets before writing again.

Step 1: Gather information about Mingyu

Step 2: Utilize information

Step 3: Fall in love ♥️

Seungkwan stopped for a moment, adding 'with Mingyu' to step two in the last minute. Satisfied, he flipped the notebook around for you and Vernon to read.

“I watched a YouTube video about fake dating movies last night and deduced this was the best way to fall in love,” Seungkwan explained.

Vernon crinkled his brows together, his lips drooping in the corners. “Wait –”

“Fake dating?” you finished his thought. “Seungkwan, I don’t want this to be fake.”

“I’m not intending for it to be fake – just . . . taking inspiration,” Seungkwan nodded, “Borrowing concepts and techniques.”

“You’re making me worried.”

Seungkwan reached over, placing his hands over your own. “Y/N, trust me – I know what I’m doing.”

“You could’ve just watched movies about strangers-to-lovers or friends-to-lovers,” Vernon said matter-of-factly, eyes still glued to the three steps. Again, there was that unsettling feeling ruminating in his chest, though stronger this time. Vernon looked up at Seungkwan. “A lot of fake dating movies require an exchange that bind the two leads–”

“In a sense, this is fake dating, no?” Seungkwan interrupted Vernon’s rambling. “We’re scheming.”

“Touche,” Vernon muttered, too tired to argue.

“Anyways, I was thinking,” Seungkwan pulled the notebook back towards him. “We could use this weekend as a good opportunity to start.”

“Jihoon’s get-together?” Vernon asked.

Seungkwan nodded, scribbling down a few more notes. “Say Mingyu comes – let’s play a round of truth or drink. We can just ask Mingyu ‘truth’ questions: Confirm what kind of girls he likes, what kind of foods he enjoys, what he likes to do in his free time, et cetera, et cetera. Throw in the occasional random question about aliens so he doesn’t suspect anything. We’ll just be gathering information for now.”

“And you’re going to use them in the ‘utilize’ step,” you stated slowly. The pieces of his plan were starting to click together.

“Precisely,” Seungkwan nodded like a proud school teacher, “Dress you up in his favorite color, pack you lunch that he’d like and can share with him – prompt interest with things he likes, ya know.”

“And once he’s interested,” Vernon said slowly – cautiously as if he was about to cross a street where he couldn’t see if cars were coming from either side. Though his eyes were trained on his silver keyboard, Vernon could almost hear Seungkwan grinning – wide and mischievously, like the cheshire cat.

“Step three: fall in love,” you said softly.

Though it seemed basic and insane, Seungkwan’s plan was not necessarily flawed – it was logical and left room for modifications along the way if needed. In love, anything could change.

Could it really work?

Seungkwan rested his elbow on the table and leaned in towards you and Vernon. His eyes flickered between the two of you, gauging your reactions. He half expected the both of you to be excited, but for some reason, there was a shared hesitancy and nervousness. Seungkwan liked to pride himself on being able to read people well, especially his two best friends, but right now, he couldn’t put a finger on a reason. Neither of you were looking at him, but rather trained on different spots on the table, lips wobbling between a frown and straight line.

“Trust me,” Seungkwanreassured the both of you in a low voice. He let his hands fall over the back of yours, gently patting them. “Boo Seungkwan always gets what he wants.”

. . . .

Unlike what they told you in the fanfics, Jihoon’s “small get-together” was actually small. There were probably ten of you at most – you, Seungkwan, and Vernon already making up a third of the group. Jihoon’s apartment was clean and well-lit. There was soft music playing in the background and a strange combination of chips and kimbap set out along the kitchen counter. There was a bowl of an opaque yellow alcohol drink prepared by Seungcheol, claimed to be a Russian mule, sitting at the edge with a ladle in it. His roommate Soonyoung’s elbow was so close to it, part of you was worried he’d knock over the whole thing if he was just tipsy enough already.

While Seungkwan mingled amidst the other invitees, you stuck next to Vernon’s side, standing in front of the balcony sliding door, the plastic blinds grazing along your backs every so often when someone breezed by or the heater turned on again. Vernon was holding a red solo cup in his hand, filled with the Russian mule, but there was as much in there as when Soonyoung thrusted it his way when he came by to say ‘hello.’ There were only a few alcoholic drinks Vernon would drink, infrequently – Russian mules weren’t one of them.

You were nervous – not only because of the agenda of attending this hangout, but the fact that you hardly knew any of these people. You didn’t mind meeting new people, but you were never one to approach them either – only if you were interested enough of course and you didn’t have a crush on them. Your circle of friends was small and you liked it that way.

“Do you want some?” Vernon asked, tilting his cup towards you.

When you didn’t take it, Vernon turned his head in your direction, scanning your form up and down. He didn’t need to look really, but the visual just confirmed his suspicions.

He could tell you were on edge – and he thought everyone else could too. You were radiating anxious energy. He could see it in the way your toes curled, the way your fingers curled and uncurled constantly around the hem of your leather jacket sleeve, and the way you kept pulling your lip in between your teeth.

“Help me finish it,” Vernon pressed the lip of the cup against your shoulder. “It’s just gonna go to waste otherwise.”

You clicked your teeth, taking the cup from his hand. “When did you care about alcohol, Hansol?”

Despite his words, you knew his intentions were more than helping finishing the drink. As you had learned early on in your college career, you were extroverted when you got tipsy, which would make this situation much less nerve-wracking for you.

You tipped the cup back for a small sip before deciding if you wanted to continue drinking it – and you didn’t. Whatever Seungcheol made tasted like shampoo.

Just as you were about to hand the “Russian mule” back to Vernon, Jihoon’s front door opened, revealing the two awaited guests of the evening: Kim Mingyu and Jeon Wonwoo.

Dressed in sweatpants and a simple white t-shirt, Wonwoo looked very much like he would rather spend his Saturday night locked away in the comfort of his room. On the other hand, Mingyu’s outfit was similarly simple, his sweats traded for a pair of distressed light wash jeans. The sleek leather jacket that you feared didn’t close over his body if he brought the zipper together made him look all the more expensive.

On instinct, you stiffened, your hand finding Vernon’s forearm. Though you remained unmoving, your eyes followed Mingyu across the room as he dragged Wonwoo along greeting the other guests and engaging in small talk. Would he stop by and say ‘hello’ to you too? What would you say?

As if on cue, Seungkwan ran up to you, excitedly, squeezing himself between you and Vernon.

“He’s here! He’s here!” Seungkwan whispered as he linked his arm with yours. “Straighten your back,” you felt him poke at your spine, “And relax your shoulders, smile! You look like you saw a ghost.”

“She’s fine,” Vernon muttered, frowning.

“Here he comes,” Seungkwan ignored his other friend’s comment.

“Hi Y/N,” Mingyu greeted you. He smiled coyly, “You look nice.”

“H-hey!” you raised your hand to wave at him. “T-thanks – um,” you dropped your hand onto your thigh, rubbing your palms against the plaid fabric. “Yeri picked it out.”

You felt Seungkwan poke you again – a sign of disapproval.

“Y-you, uh, look nice too,” you gestured at his outfit. You raised your hand again, waving over Mingyu’s shoulder at Wonwoo. “Your friend does too,” you chuckled weakly.

Mingyu stared a moment longer before letting his gaze drop to the floor, his lips spreading into a wider smile. Was he . . . laughing at you?

Oh.

You fucked up.

“Your friends are here too,” Mingyu said, bringing his attention to them. He mimicked your demure and waved at the both of them. “Vernon, Seungkwan.”

“‘Sup,” Vernon replied.

Seungkwan, however, had other ideas. “Wanna play truth or drink?”

You faked a cough, tearing your eyes away from the duo in front of you. Did he have to be so obvious? You were starting to regret recruiting Seungkwan for this job.

Mingyu’s brows furrowed curiously, though the playful smile on his lips never faltered. “Oh? So suddenly?”

“Jihoon! Let’s play truth or drink!” Seungkwan shouted from across the room.

The raven-haired man, who was interestingly wearing a cardigan that was much too long for him (it was the effort that counts), spun around on the bar stool with a scowl on his face.

“Agh . . . Boo Seungkwan, why are you so nosy?” Jihoon shouted back. “We all know why you want to play!”

“Please wait a moment,” Seungkwan told the four of you, holding up a finger. He slipped away, whining, “Please? Jihoon, we’re not doing anything else.”

Whatever Seungkwan said to Jihoon seemed to work, however. Within ten minutes, he had a circle of seven players. Obviously, you were strategically placed next to Mingyu, Vernon to your right, and Seungkwan sitting across from you next to an annoyed Jihoon. As bothered as he looked, you did wonder why Jihoon joined – he could’ve very well said no.

“Here,” Vernon nudged you.

“Huh?” you hummed, turning to find him pulling his arm out of his letterman jacket. He placed the garment over your lap.

“So you don’t . . . uhh . . . people don’t . . .” his voice trailed off. Vernon gestured down his own legs as to indicate your skirt.

“Oh,” you blushed, adjusting his jacket over your thighs. “Thanks.”

Seungkwan clapped his hand together and placed two soju bottles in the center of the circle, one full of alcohol and the other one empty. Soonyoung was passing around plastic shot cups.

“Alright,” Seungkwan said, satisfied, eyes scanning the group. He wrinkled his nose in disapproval when his eyes reached you. He tilted his head to the left.

What? You mouthed.

Seungkwan widened his eyes and tilted his head further, his ear nearly touching his shoulder.

You frowned, knitting your brows together in confusion.

Seungkwan’s eyes then flickered to Vernon, silently begging him to help you.

“I think Seungkwan wants you to scoot to your left more,” Vernon whispered. He weakly pushed at your knee with the back of his hands.

“Why?” you asked.

“I mean,” Vernon’s eyes peered over your shoulder, hoping that you would get the cryptic message: your love interest was sitting to your left. “You’re sitting kind of too close to me,” he fibbed.

“Oh really?” you jumped a little before rocking back and forth. “Sorry.”

Your thigh hit something else – or rather, someone else. You paused and slowly turned to your left. Mingyu was watching you with that coy smile again – almost doting if you wanted to let yourself go there.

“Hi again,” he said.

“Sorry,” you muttered. You were quick to adjust yourself and face straightforwardly.

“Everybody knows how to play, right?” Seungkwan asked, finally satisfied with your newfound position. He spoke loudly to hush all the other side conversations ongoing.

A few people nodded in reply.

Seungkwan decided to explain the rules nonethelss. He tilted the empty bottle on its side. “Someone spins, if it lands on you, the spinner gets to ask you a question – it’s your choice to answer or not, but that comes at the expense of a drink. But do keep in mind,” Seungkwan smirked. His eyes grew dark as he looked around the circle. “Actions speak louder than words – drinking is an answer in itself.”

“Are there any off limits questions?” Soonyoung asked innocently.

“Anything goes,” Seungkwan nodded, “As long as they’re reasonable and lighthearted – like don’t ask about traumatic experiences or something.”

“Right,” Soonyoung let out a breath through his pursed lips. He sat up on his knees.

“I’ll go first,” Seungkwan continued. He reached over and flicked his wrist to the right.

The crowd was hushed, only the sound of the glass rhythmically scratching against the hardwood floor was loud against your ears. The circle widened slightly as people stepped back to watch who it landed on. Even the few individuals who chose to sit out on the game watched curiously from afar – notably Doyoung and Jiyoung who were craning their necks.

The bottle began to lose momentum.

Jihoon.

Haeyoung.

Seungcheol.

Soonyoung.

Mingyu.

You glanced over, seeing a satisfied smile tilt the corner of Seungkwan's cheeks while all eyes were on Mingyu. Seungkwan was quick to hide it, his face returning to the neutral expression when people started looking back at him. It was Seungkwan asking questions after all – he was the nosiest (endearingly in that he just cared about his friend’s well-being). They were expecting a juicy question.

“If you could, would you kiss anyone here?” Seungkwan asked. He poked his tongue in his cheek as he sat back on his heels. Someone sucked in a sharp and loud breath.

Mingyu started nodding, slow at first, then firmly. He tapped his fingers along the wooden floor.

“Yes, I would,” Mingyu replied.

You slowly turned your head, blinking owlishly at him. Your chest tightened – you didn’t want to admit it, but it was out of jealousy of this person he was talking about. The possibility that it was you was slim, but that left nine other people in the group. Seungkwan should’ve phrased his question better too – “here” could refer to the circle or in the apartment, which meant there were two other possible candidates.

“Who is it?” Soonyoung asked excitedly, expressing your curiosity.

Mingyu shrugged nonchalantly and reached over to spin the bottle. “I'm not answering that - you’d have to spin again and wait to see if it lands on me again.”

“Aw,” Soonyoung pouted, “No fun.”

“Ey,” Seungkwan swatted his hand in Mingyu’s direction as the bottle rotated. “C’mon.”

“Nope,” he refuted, popping the ‘p’. The bottle landed slowed at Vernon.

Eyes still trained on the floor, Mingyu smirked to himself – it was almost . . . devilish? Mingyu was a nice guy; you don’t think you’ve seen this side of him before. It was mischievous like he knew he was about to stir the pot. You were mildly nervous for Vernon, leaning back to your right, placing a hand on his thigh as if it’d protect him from Mingyu.

Mingyu didn’t fail to notice, his eyes darting to your hand, then looking past you to Vernon.

There was a moment of silence, the tension growing thick.

Mingyu cleared his throat. “Do you have feelings – romantic feelings, for anyone sitting in this circle?”

A wave of oh’s and gasps went around the circle.

Your fingers slowly curled into a fist, your nails scraping along his dark-washed jeans. You peered up at your best friend, curious to hear his answer, yourself. Vernon’s love life isn’t one you or Seungkwan pried into often. You both figured that he was straightforward enough to tell you when he did have feelings for someone. In the past, he had expressed interest in a few girls in the dorms, but they never went anywhere. Within the last year, you hadn’t heard him talk about anyone in particular either.

Perhaps his silence before his next move lingered a second too long. You could see Seungkwan narrowing his gaze and tilting his head in curiosity out of the corner of your eye.

Quietly, Vernon reached for the upstanding bottle of soju and poured himself a glass. Another chorus of gasps, accompanied by Soonyoung’s “oh my god – scandalous,” went around the circle. Your eyes widened in surprise, your hand falling from his lap as turned he head to the side, away from you and emptied his plastic shot cup .

As long as you have known, Vernon was not afraid to be honest. In addition, Vernon didn’t like to drink. You weren’t even interested in who in the circle he was romantically interested in. The fact that he just did two things very out of character – avoiding the truth and willingly tipping back a shot of soju, made you question if you knew your best friend as well as you thought you did.

Mingyu’s soft chortle pulled you from your musing.

“Interesting,” he said under his breath.

“Shall we move on?” Vernon asked the group. His voice was firm and steady. The other players were quiet, probably just as puzzled as you or more at his calm demeanor.

This definitely wasn’t your usual childish game of truth and drink and it wasn’t because of Mingyu.

. . . .

“We really didn’t learn much about him last night, did we?” Seungkwan asked, pressing his hand against his temple. He sucked in a sharp breath and started twirling his silver tri-colored pen around his finger as he examined the five bullet points written in the notebook.

There was someone at the party who Mingyu wanted to kiss – who? Y/N?

Mingyu does indeed like “cold” girls. Likes the idea that he’s the only one who can bring out a vulnerable side of them.

Mingyu was in a secret relationship that ended 8 months ago. Last time he smashed was around then. – loyal? maybe?

His favorite color is red.

One time, he sneezed on his hands and wiped it on Wonwoo at a party.

“To be fair, there were ten of us, therefore, each turn giving us a ten percent chance of selecting him,” you remarked.

You slipped the straw between your lips and sipped on the iced Americano. This morning, Seungkwan had rounded both Vernon and you early to the cafe where Yeri worked down the street from your apartment to discuss the events of last evening and further plan. Though you were grateful Seungkwan was taking this wingman “project” seriously, you enjoyed your sleep – let alone, when the three of you got home around 1AM last evening.

“But we played almost twenty rounds,” Seungkwan sighed, frustrated.

“That doesn’t change the probability – the more rounds we played, the more the actual outcome would just converge on ten percent,” you added. “And to make matters worse, there were also six other people playing, so the likelihood of us getting to ask our questions was even slimmer.”

“Yeah and Kwon fucking Soonyoung wasted it on asking what his favorite color was.”

“I mean, it’s not a bad thing,” Vernon tried, “We did learn his favorite color is red and Y/N likes burgundy. There’s something kind of in common.”

Seungkwan looked between the two of you, an incredulous look in his eyes. “You two are seriously hopeless.”

“What?” you both said at the same time, confused.

“My point exactly,” Seungkwan huffed. He tapped his pen against his forehead. “What can we do with this information?”

“Easy.”

You looked up to find Yeri settling into a seat next to you. She was working this morning – quickly briefed about last night while preparing your coffee. You figured she must’ve been on break, which is why she was here. Though, you were intrigued to hear what she had in mind. Yeri spun her brown uniform cap backwards and plucked Seungkwan’s pen out of his hand. Switching from black to red ink, she circled the first bullet point.

“Hey! You’re ruining my notes,” Seungkwan whined.

“There was someone at the party who Mingyu wanted to kiss’,” she read aloud, ignoring Seungkwan. She smirked and peered up at you through her lashes. “The next party you’re both at – we test this one, see if Y/N is the person he wanted to kiss.”

“How?” Vernon asked.

Seungkwan let out a small breath, his hand flying to his mouth. “You’re a genius!”

You shook your head, holding up a hand for the pair to slow down. “Wait, wait, wait – what?”

“Parties that the both of you are going to be at will probably more or less consist of the same people since the mutual friends you share are far and few,” Yeri explained, “The ten or twelve that were at Jihoon’s will probably be at the next one too.”

“So?” your voice trailed off as you narrowed your eyes. “We play ‘spin the bottle’? Like prepubescent teens?”

“No – better,” Seungkwan declared. He wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “Seven minutes in heaven.”

“Bingo.”

. . . .

And that’s how you found yourself barricaded in Moon Junhui’s bedroom with Mingyu a few weeks later.

Ultimately with how dark and messy Jun’s room was, you settled on his bed – the only piece that he seemed to pay care and attention to. The jade green cover was neatly tucked under the mattress and the sheets were folded cleanly, a matching comforter finishing off the set. You almost felt bad sitting down and wrinkling the corner you were leaning against. At the other end of the bed, you felt the mattress sink under added weight, suggesting that Mingyu had also taken a seat.

Your eyes now adjusted to the dark, with the aid of the slivers of moonlight peeking through, you turned your head slightly, your eyes drinking in his look tonight. Per usual, despite a simple outfit of a white t-shirt and dark-washed jeans, he managed to make it look stunning. His hair was combed back and brushed out of his face. The light reflecting off his irises made his eyes look like they were glistening – like a body of water rippling under a full moon.

As beautiful as he was, you knew you couldn’t stare for too long. You did your best to look and think of everything, except Mingyu. You faced forward again, letting your eyes wander across Jun’s black shelves stuffed with random books and albums. The stuffed animals that lined the top row near the ceiling took you aback, especially the special edition Ryan Bear in a blue hoodie. You never saw Jun as a teddy bear kind of guy – the world was full of surprises. You chortled softly to yourself, bringing the unwanted attention of your crush.

You choked out a cough to hush your laughter, clearing your throat and shifting in your spot as you could feel yourself slipping from the comforter. The slippery material of your dress that Yeri had picked out tonight didn’t exactly give you enough friction to sit comfortably and stably on the bed. Had it not been for your socks against the fuzzy carpet, you would’ve slid off the cotton sheets at this point. Your dress suddenly felt too short as it rode up your thigh. You tugged at the hem, doing your best from flashing Mingyu. The waist was tight, cutting into your ribs and making it hard to breathe. Preoccupied with your own being, you failed to notice, Mingyu’s eyes never left you, and to him, you looked quite . . . uncomfortable.

“How long have we’ve been in here?” Mingyu asked, breaking the silence.

You halted in your shuffling and glanced up at him briefly. You tried your best to keep your cool, folding your arms over your chest and shrugging. “I dunno . . . maybe five minutes?”

“Then we have two minutes left,” he went along with you, letting out a small sigh. You noted especially how his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. Was he . . . nervous?

You only nodded, hoping to return to your own thoughts.

“Well, um,” Mingyu stuttered, scratching the back of his neck, “Do you . . . wanna . . . kiss or something?”

Though you stiffened and straightened your spine, clenching your abdomen at his sudden suggestion, your heart drummed against your chest, sending blood rushing in your ears. Practically, you knew the way your body locked up was useless to keep yourself from blushing. Not to mention, Jun's room was dark. Mingyu would have to be either really close or have superb vision to see any flush across your face. Nonetheless, you were hopeful that your contained body language could keep any signs of that you were affected by his few words from being revealed.

You scoffed, feigning nonchalance. Bold of him to think you were an easy target. (Though . . . you certainly wouldn’t mind if he did.)

“Do you offer to kiss every girl you find yourself alone with in closed spaces?” you asked curtly.

Mingyu chortled, relaxing his posture. He placed his hand behind him, letting himself sink back. He shook his head lightly before letting it roll towards you. This wasn’t the reaction you were hoping for – most times, when you bluntly refuted a flirt like this, most people were taken aback and left.

Mingyu was clearly a different breed.

You could feel his eyes crawling along your side profile – admiring or critiquing every feature he could outline in the poor lighting, you couldn’t tell from this angle. The room had grown so quiet you could almost hear his lips curving into a lopsided smile. The left corner upturned higher than the right, one of his canines peeked out from under his lips.

“Just . . . the ones I find fascinating,” he said coyly, just loud enough for you to hear.

You felt his weight shift on the bed closer to you. Your skin pricked when you felt his fingertips skimming across your own freshly manicured ones – a layer of pale pink polish, also courtesy of Yeri.

Your breath hitched, clogging up your throat with words that were intending to shoot back at him despite your mind spiraling.

Were you really the one he wanted to kiss at Jihoon’s get-together?

Or did Kim Mingyu just always have cheap lips that he passed around like a beer bottle at a party?

Frankly, that was the last thing you wanted to be: just another pair of lips for Mingyu to kiss and ditch. Though he wasn’t necessarily labeled as a fuckboi, he was the campus heartthrob. If he spent every party kissing someone different, you wouldn’t be surprised either.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, you know,” Mingyu said softly.

Swallowing the lump forming in your throat, you willed yourself to meet his gaze. Even in the darkness, you could make out his dark orbs. Though his almond eyes were naturally sharp, there was always tenderness to them in the way he looked at you. It was almost nostalgic – bittersweet with a hint of longing, like he always wanted you.

Mingyu leaned in, closing the space left between the two of you. Despite your body screaming for you to stop, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your lips into a tight line. Your fists curled into the fabric of Jun’s comforter, bunching up the cotton material in your palms and messing up the smoothness of a well-made bed.

Mingyu chuckled – you could feel his breath fanning across your face with a faint scent of soju and mint gum. Impulsively, you wondered if he’d taste the same.

“If you don’t stop me now, I don’t think I will,” Mingyu gave you one last chance to refuse.

He paused, watching your face for any signs of hesitancy. You were a nervous stiff indeed, but you didn’t seem like you were going to push him anyway soon.

Just as his lips barely grazed against yours, there was a loud bang, rattling the various trinkets in Jun’s room. The lights flickered on, blinding both Mingyu and you for a moment.

You jumped back from Mingyu a good foot or two, whipping your head towards the door to find an out-of-breath Vernon and Seungkwan, who was tumbling in behind him, knocking into the former's back.

Your jaw grew slack as you stared at the both of them, just dumbfounded. Though Seungkwan seemed irritated, Vernon’s eyes were wide with worry, his bottom lip drawn in between his teeth. He stood tall and stiff like a sim character, shoulders rounded back. If you hadn’t known him better, you would’ve mistaken his straight expression for nonchalance and ignorance. It was the little details in his whole body that gave him away. His breathing hadn’t calmed since he entered; his shoulders rising and fell dramatically. His hands were curled into tight fists, the veins bulging in his forearms. The slight dip in his brow as his eyes were trained on you.

That was interesting – he only seemed to care about you rather than your companion.

“Um . . .” Vernon blinked a few times and cleared his voice. “Time’s up.”

. . . .

At the time when Yeri and Seungkwan suggested you and Mingyu play seven minutes in heaven, the idea was seemingly harmless. Vernon didn’t think much of it other than it would be a good opportunity to test their theory and if you didn’t want to do anything, he figured Mingyu wouldn’t push you to do it either. Mingyu was respectful and didn’t seem like the type test boundaries.

However, watching you squirm uncomfortably and pull at the skirt of your dress next to Mingyu on the couch while people argued who would kick off the game of seven minutes in heaven amidst the loud bass-heavy music, Vernon decided perhaps Mingyu wasn’t the best choice for this game as your partner.

Most people who tuned into the game were already in a relationship, notably Jun and Seola, Seungcheol and Heesoo, and Chan and Younghee. That left Vernon, Mingyu, Haeyoung (the girl from the previous get-together), Seungkwan, and you to be the victims. Seungkwan had called an automatic out as he wanted to coordinate it and naturally, he paired you with Mingyu and Vernon with Haeyoung.

Vernon had no interest in Haeyoung whatsoever – she was kind, fun, flirty, smart, and dressed well; a political science major applying to law school eventually. Thus, he didn’t bat an eye at the way she seemed extra clingy after the pairing, giggling at everything Vernon said and swatting playfully at his arm. He figured Seungkwan had paired her and him together out of default and to make the situation look less suspicious. Wingmanning you, obviously. Nonetheless, Vernon’s interest was invested in you and Mingyu, though specifically you.

There was a strong urge to ask Mingyu to switch partners with him. Seven minutes in heaven was either a game that could go very right or very wrong, depending on the pair. It’s not that Vernon didn’t think Mingyu was a good guy – as much as you liked him, none of you knew him that well.

To put it simply, Vernon didn’t trust Mingyu with your care.

However, Vernon also knew it was wrong to intervene based on a gut feeling – at least for this situation. You liked Mingyu and he was nice to you. Though you looked uncomfortable, it could very well be that you were just nervous to be left alone with your crush for once. It was the jitters – that's all.

. . . or was it?

That grain of doubt gnawed away at him. His insides churned and his heart pounded against his chest, threatening to bust out and come running after you any minute.

Vernon figured a little extra precautions wouldn’t hurt and it might help calm him too., hence, rather than spending seven minutes listening to Mae babble about her spring break travel plans to France, he made a point to stand guard outside Jun’s bedroom door.

“I’m just wingmanning – making sure Y/N doesn’t come running out and ruining her seven minutes,” Vernon had fibbed when settling on the floor outside Jun's room.

Seungkwan deemed it fair and joined as well. It was the perfect opportunity to eavesdrop on your conversation more than anything. For the most part, it just seemed like awkward silence with the occasional shuffling of feet, until two minutes before time.

“Do you . . . wanna . . . kiss or something?”

The both of them were all ears – literally. Exchanging surprised looks, they pressed their faces into the white-painted door. Vernon and Seungkwan listened earnestly for your response, though for different reasons.

Vernon, worried that you might actually kiss.

Seungkwan, worried you’d say something to scare off Mingyu.

“Do you offer to kiss every girl you find yourself alone with in closed spaces?”

“Oh damn,” Seungkwan chortled quietly behind his hand. “She’s spicy.”

Vernon didn't find it amusing at all.

Unfortunately, there was only quiet whispering after that – whether the voices belonged to you or Mingyu, it was difficult to discern. Vernon couldn’t help but let his thoughts run wild.

Did you refuse, but Mingyu’s pressuring you? Did you accept and you both were actually making out right now? What if Vernon walked in right now? Was Mingyu a good kisser? Were you a good kisser?

None of the possibilities he implored felt good for some reason. They made him nauseous and uneasy. He couldn't pinpoint why, but now was not the time to ponder why that was the case. Despite Seungkwan and Yeri’s intentions, all Vernon knew was that he needed to get you out of there – and fast.

Vernon peered down at his smartwatch: there were thirty seconds left of your allotted time together.

He’d wait until twenty seconds passed – opening the door definitely took an extra ten seconds, right?

Even if he did short your time to six minutes and fifty seconds, those last twenty seconds seem to take eons. The shuffling inside the room didn’t help his racing and pounding heart either. He could feel his palms beginning to sweat as well.

At five seconds remaining, Vernon searched for the door handle.

At three seconds left, he twisted it.

At zero seconds, he stood up in a flash and threw it open – so hard that it smacked against the wall.

That was going to leave a dent.

Vernon’s eyes zeroed in on you, scanning your body for any signs of resistance or if you were touched somewhere you didn’t want to be. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be any other than the look of shock on your face at your best friends barging in. Vernon didn’t care – just relieved that you were okay. He didn’t even pay mind to Seungkwan who nearly knocked him over, quietly hissing away at the young man from behind.

“Um . . . Time’s up,” Vernon stated, matter-of-factly.

He gulped, eyes dropping from you to the floor. They flickered between you and Mingyu for a few seconds more; then he did what felt like the second most natural thing.

Leave.

Spinning around on his heels, he took careful steps out of the room. His body screamed for him to turn back, march up to you, check if you were alright, and escort you out of the room. That was the first natural thing that he wanted to do, but that would open too many doors that he didn’t want to address at this moment – or anytime in the near future for that matter. This discomfort in his chest transformed into a permanent ache, squeezing his heart with each step further away from you.

Why? After almost four years of knowing you, why now?

The thump of the heavy-bass music and shrills of drunk university students falling on deaf ears. Lost in his flurry of thoughts and unsettling emotions, he pushed through the crowds of sweaty, dancing bodies. It was getting claustrophobic and warm. He felt a small weight off his chest as he neared the front door, the drift of the early winter air from the open door hitting his face, cooling his hot cheeks. As he was about to step over the threshold of the front door and escape into the night, a hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him to a stop – much like he would’ve liked to have done to you several times tonight.

“Hansol.”

He craned his head, looking over his shoulder to find you holding his jacket in the crook of your arm. There was a brooding look settling into the lines of your face the longer you stared at him, your brows knitted, a frown tugging at the corner of your pretty glossed lips that were almost Mingyu’s. You tried to catch his gaze, but he avoided it. He caught a glimpse of Seungkwan with his own jacket and yours as well, clambering down the stairs after you.

“I’m . . . going home,” Vernon told you. He took his jacket from you and gently pulled your hand off his wrist. You were reluctant to let go, but you did after a moment.

“You’re going home without me – us?” you asked.

He smiled weakly at you. “I’m not feeling well – too hot in there, too cold out here.”

Seungkwan arrived, placing your coat around your shoulders.

“You guys should stay,” he waved you off, already down the porch steps. “You seemed to be having fun.”

“Hansol,” you tried again, your voice a little more earnest this time. Something wasn’t right – something was different about him.

It was a final blow to the gut when he saw Mingyu come to view behind you. The tall man’s hand rested gently on your shoulder, tearing your attention away from Vernon.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Vernon called, walking backwards on the strip of pavement. “Stay safe – call me if you need anything. Always.”

They say inspiration struck at the most unexpected times - or something like that. All these weeks, amidst planning for your convergence with Mingyu, Vernon had also been frustrated, rifling through movies and songs for ideas for his senior project. Never did he think one would bloom out of a moment of angst and turbulence; a lonely and walk down the street to the bus stop to catch a ride back to your apartment complex.

It wasn't his usual theme of choice, but he'd figure he'd give the idea a shot. He didn't have anything else to work with and the storyboard was going to be due soon.

Vernon knew what he'd make his short film about: unrequited love.

#vernon x reader #vernon fluff #vernon angst #vernon scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines

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thelighthousestale · 5 months

Text

Light Is The Most Glorious

The Gryffindor common room was adorned with festive decorations of holly and garland, the stone walls echoed with the excited chatter of students ran up and down the dormitory stairs, preparing to leave for the Christmas holidays. Lily Evans, on the other hand, remained in the cozy stuffed chair near the warm fire. She had decided to stay in the castle for the holidays as she had several reasons to dread returning home for the upcoming break.

Her sister, Petunia, was bringing her new boyfriend home. Lily had yet to meet Vernon but Petunia had written her a letter explaining that under no circumstances was she to mention and of her freakishness and demanded that Lily behave like a normal person (Petunia had underlined the word 'normal' several times) because Vernon was a "very sensible man" and would not tolerate Lily's oddities.

To make matters worse, Lily didn't want to risk running into Severus Snape while wandering the familiar smoky streets of Cokeworth. She hadn't spoken to him since the start of summer and avoiding him at school was difficult enough.

But perhaps the most significant reason for Lily's reluctance to go home was the fact that it would be the first Christmas since her father's passing. What would Christmas be without his booming voice singing carols? Who would carve the roast? Vernon? Lily couldn't stomach the thought.

As her fellow Gryffindor students shouted have happy holidays to each other and exchanged gifts and goodbyes until the new year, Lily sat, pretending to be immersed in a book.

"Alright, Evans?" A familiar voice disturbed her solitude. "Already packed for the holidays? I see you are not joining in the frantic last-minute packing fray."

Lily looked up from her book and saw James Potter standing in front of her. His messy black hair illuminated by the glowing fire behind him. His head tilted in concerned as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"I'm not going home."

"Oh really? Having Christmas at the Castle? That's always a -" James cut himself off as he noticed something going on behind Lily's head. "Oi! Wormtail! Those aren't your socks! Just put them on the table there, I'll get them to Moony when I head back up!"

"You know, you lot think those nicknames make you sound cool but they don't. Wormtail? That's so dreadful, I can't believe Peter is still friends with you."

James just waved her comments away with his hand. "Nah, he likes it."

"Does he or is he too sweet to object?"

"Sweet? Lily you've been hanging out with us for weeks now, you've had to realize Peter is, in fact, the worst of us."

Lily gave a snort in reply.

James took a seat on the ottoman in front of Lily, his hands clasped in front of him as he leaned in to speak lowly so only she could hear him. "Is everything OK, Lily? You seem less than joyous this festive season."

"I'm fine."

"OK..," James sounded doubtful that she was fine but he did't press it. Instead, he leaned in closer and beckoned Lily to do the same. "Want to see something magical?" he whispered.

Lily gave another snort, "Everything here is magical, is it not?"

James, undeterred, leaned back onto the ottoman and shrugged. "Yes, but I know all the castle secrets don't I? Aren't you a bit curious about any of them?"

Lily sighed and shook her head disbelievingly. If someone had told Lily one year ago that she would willingly join James Potter on one of his infamous late-night escapades she would have told them to go eat a sock. "OK, I'll bite. Take me to see this magical something."

"Fantastic!" James clapped and jumped up. "I'll just be a moment. I've got to get my cloak."

James darted off, first picking up the socks Peter had abandoned and then racing up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. Just as Lily was starting to regret agreeing to James' offer he bounded back down the stairs holding a silvery lump of fabric under his arm.

James stopped right in front of Lily and noticed the fabric almost moved like liquid. It was breathtaking to look at up close, shimmering different shades of silver cascading around James' arms. Lily reached out a hand to touch it, curious to see if it would melt between her fingertips, but quickly pulled it back. "Is this the magical thing you wanted to show me?" Lily asked.

"What? No, this is my dad's invisibility cloak." He said softly "The secrets to all my successful missions of mischief. Now stand real close, and I'm sorry you'll have to hunch a bit. I used to be able to fit four of us under the cloak in first year but age has made us taller and now I can barely squeeze two. It's alright though, yes get as close as we can get. Not to worry, Evans, I have brushed my teeth today so you won't faint from goblin breath."

James whipped the cloak over their heads. Lily let out a gasp as she looked at the mirror above the fireplace and found she could not see themselves in the reflection. She felt a tickling laugh in her ear, "It's a bit wild at first isn't it?" James breathed from behind her. "Come on, steady now."

They shuffled across the common room floor and out the portrait hole. Lily was grateful that no one could see them as they must have looked pretty silly walking so slowly with their backs hunched.

Under the cloak, Lily and James ventured through the beautifully decorated halls of Hogwarts, avoiding the prying eyes of their fellow students. "You know Nearly Headless Nick served royalty as a Wizard of the Court?" James whispered in her ear.

"Yeah, everyone knows that."

"Well, as payment for his service, he was gifted many fine treasures. Gold, silk, paintings, swords. The usual, you know. And since he is a ghost he still has access to his Gringotts account."

"No, he doesn't! Why would a ghost need money?"

"Who do you think pays for the Death Day Parties? Dumbledore? Anyway, Sir Nick died in the 15th century so with interest his account at Gringotts is pretty sizeable. And a few years ago a young Hogwarts student went up to Nick and said "Hey, Sir Nick, is it true that ghosts feel time differently and for you a hundred years is a minute?" And Sir Nick answered yes, that is true. "Sir Nick," the student then asked, "Is it true that a thousand galleons are like a knut to you?" and Sir Nick replied yes, that is true. The student asked, "Sir Nick, can I have a knut?" "Sure," answered Sir Nick, "Just give me a minute."

Lily rolled her eyes "You are such a dork."

"Come on, that's a solid joke!"

"Yelling at me defeats the purpose of being invisible."

Eventually, as they wandered around the corridors, competing over who could tell the worst joke, Lily found James had led them to the base of Astronomy Tower. Lily twisted around to raise an eyebrow at James who only said "Trust me." in reply. They ascended the winding stairs of Astronomy Tower and with a high-pitched creak the door opened and Lily was greeted by the cold winter winds.

"Nothing extra magical about where we take classes, Potter," Lily remarked, as they stepped out into the night air.

With a quick and sudden movement, James removed the invisibility cloak. Lily put her arms around her, realizing how cold it was out on the tower and how warm she had felt with James hunched over her when they were under the cloak.

"Why did you bring me here?" Lily shivered and looked at James, who she could barely see in the darkness. He brandished his wand and created blue flames in his hands that he then floated in the space between them, enveloping them in a circle of warmth. Lily could now see him smiling.

"Look up," was all James said.

Above them, the night sky was a celestial canvas, painted with ethereal hues that danced and wove a mesmerizing tapestry of light. Wisps of color, like whispers of a cosmic secret, materialized on the dark heavens. The sky crackled with electric greens, blues, and purples, radiant and otherworldly, gently cascading from the inky expanse above. As Lily stared awestruck by the cosmic spectacle, she felt that time had lost its grip and that she was starting to float high above, in lights.

"Why did you bring me here?" She asked breathlessly.

"You looked sad today." James had moved to stand a bit closer to her. "I don't like to see my friends sad on Christmas."

#harry potter fanfiction #james potter #lily evans #lily potter #jily #get ready for more holidays fics #is this jsut friends hangin out?#or is this a first date?#James and Lily are confusing everyone around them with their relationship status #On the train back to London the next day Sirius is like 'prongs you are an idiot.'#Like he cannot believe James spent all night with lily and watched the northen lights and they didn't snog

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wonhuihonwuiii · 16 days

Text

lantern night — yoon jeonghan

SYNOPSIS: On a night festive with lanterns, Jeonghan and Emeiko felt the pull of flickering lights and intertwining hearts. How will their encounter unfold under the mesmerizing spell of the lantern-lit night?

PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x oc au

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

The moment we set foot on the open grounds, my friends released breaths of amazement.

“It’s so beautiful,” Vernon spoke softly.

“Wait until the lanterns are lit up later,” I replied with a soft smile on my face.

No other words were exchanged between us, as my friends breathlessly took in the view.

“Should we go buy our lanterns now?” Seungkwan broke the silence.

We all nodded and headed in the direction of the store.

As someone who had grown relatively familiar with the lantern festival, I let my friends buy their respective lanterns first, making me the last in line.

However, I failed to take notice of the growing flock just beside me. The next thing I knew, I was alone, separated from my friends.

I took out my phone and attempted to make a call but as expected, there was no signal in such a hidden place.

So I had to resort to bringing my friends back together only through my wandering eyes and booming voice.

Suddenly, I was on a venture, admiring the lanterns everyone seemed to have held dearly.

As if entranced by the harmonious aura, the task of finding my friends had been long forgotten. Instead, I made my way around the swarm of people, gripping my light source tightly.

It seemed to have been an effective tactic.

Not until I felt a tug, urging me to halt.

Not until I caught sight of the strings of my lantern entangled with that of another.

I pulled, expecting the small action to do the job of untangling my strings with the stranger.

Yet I was faced with a slight force in my direction. I finally faced the man who I had been pulling strings with.

To my surprise, he was already looking at me.

The man, who could easily be described as good-looking, seemed to embody what I would imagine an angel to resemble.

Even with the tired glint in his eyes, no one could deny the beauty he possessed.

I was snapped out of my trance when a voice spoke. “Do you want to?” He said while motioning to our tangled strings.

No other words were needed because we both knew that it took effort from both of us to set free of our lanterns.

So we did.

Amid the crowd, there stood 2 strangers, untying unintentionally made knots in complete silence.

After what felt like hours, the task was finally done. It was just in time for releasing the lanterns.

I was about to give my thank you but the loud bell overpowered my small voice.

Midnight.

I unknowingly had a smile on my face but just when I was about to set my lantern free, its strings snapped before I could even light it.

I released a small breath of disappointment, thinking about how nothing seemed to be going right tonight.

Not only did I lose my friends in the crowd but I no longer had time to even go back in store for a new lantern.

I may have not been doing a good job of hiding my disappointment because I suddenly felt a tap on my shoulder.

It was the stranger next to me, who had previously entangled his lantern strings with mine.

He motioned to his own as if he were offering the now-lit lantern to me.

I gave him a raised eyebrow, to which he responded with a slight nod.

“Are you sure?” I asked softly and he nodded back.

So I took the lantern from his hold, looking at the light source in admiration.

No longer wanting to waste any more time, I pulled the strings of the lantern, releasing it into the night sky.

We were yet again faced with utter silence, both of us admiring the now-bright sky.

Similar to the previous years, I was having the time of my life. Everyone was. Or I at least thought so.

If only I had not looked in the direction of my companion tonight at that exact moment, I would have missed the sad glint in his eyes.

It was gone as soon as it arrived.

It made me wonder what made him appear so gloomy on such a festive night.

I wanted to ask however before I could even find my voice to speak, he beat me to it.

“I proposed to my girlfriend of 3 years tonight. You could only guess what her response was.” He laughed bitterly.

I had no words to say so I was glad when he spoke again. “It was a dream we both had to attend the Lantern Festival together. Every year we would try but something would always get in the way. 3 years later, we’re finally here.”

“You could quit pretending, you know?” I spoke softly.

He seemed taken aback by my words, “Excuse me?”

“Never been rejected nor have I turned a proposal down so I might not know exactly what you’re going through but I’m sure it hurts like hell.” Despite looking at the lanterns above, I could feel his eyes flicker in my direction with what I assumed to be filled with amusement.

“You don’t have to keep smiling to show that you’re okay when you aren’t,” I concluded.

From my peripheral, I could see him shake his head lightly, as he looked at the sky too. “Wouldn’t that be unfair though? Everyone here waited months for this beautiful experience. Seeing someone sad would ruin the moment for them.”

I released a sigh. “Doesn’t that make things unfair for you as well? You were rejected by someone who you envisioned the future with yet you couldn’t even express how you truly feel.”

It was silent for what almost felt like forever until I heard his soft voice again.

“I was about to take my leave though.”

“Hmm?” I asked, my eyes still stuck to the lanterns.

He spoke. “I was rushing because I no longer wanted to be here by midnight. It felt wrong for sadness to fill up my heart when everyone here is having the time of their lives.”

He kept going. “There’s just something so romantic about being in a lantern festival, you know? From having to personally pick out your lanterns together to lighting and eventually releasing our flickers of hope into the night sky.

And then, you watch it join the countless others, dancing in light and shadow. It may sound selfish but I refuse to go through that alone when my intention for even being here was to tie strings with her.

The experience just sounds so magical that pushing through with it today seems inappropriate. Its glow is a reminder of the love that once illuminated our lives.” He said so softly that I could quite literally hear both the love and sadness laced in his voice.

“I beg to differ,” I responded, making brief eye contact with a slight smile.

“What?” He asked, with a raised brow.

I diverted my attention back to the lanterns before speaking again. “I see why one can easily attribute the Lantern Festival to a sense of union between two lovers but it isn’t all about that.

Its gentle glow brings comfort and solace to the loneliest souls. It’s a reminder that a flicker of warmth can always be found, even in the coldest of nights.

As you release your lantern into the night sky, it feels like letting fragments of yourself free, releasing your worries, fears, and doubts into the vast expanse above.” I ended, just when our lanterns were no longer within birds-eye view.

He chuckled a bit. “That’s quite a unique perspective to have, considering how we’re mostly surrounded by couples.”

“Are we? Or is it because you’ve only made yourself aware of the couples around and not the lost souls?” I asked finally making eye contact with the stranger while motioning to the many solo goers around us.

I released another sigh. “Look, I don’t want to seem like I’m intruding considering how you got your heart broken minutes ago but my only point is that it’s okay to be a lonely lost soul. Do you know why the festival begins at midnight? Because people see it as some sort of time reset. An opportunity to start anew.”

It was silent for a few minutes until he spoke again. “I can’t. It’s too early for that. I gave you my lantern not just because yours broke but because I’m not ready to let mine go.”

That’s when it hit me. He didn’t release any lanterns tonight.

I looked him in the eye again. “Then keep coming back. Until you’re ready to cast your lantern – whether it be with a significant other or alone. But for now, think of tonight as a starting point for your healing journey from the things you choose not to talk about.”

How are you so certain that there are things I hide about myself?” He asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“You just don’t seem like the sharing type.” I shrugged.

“How are you sure? You don’t know me.” He spoke defensively.

“I don’t but your eyes speak a thousand emotions.” I said finally making eye contact again

“You don’t have to worry. What was shared tonight stays here. It isn’t like we’ll cross paths ever again, right? It was nice talking to you, stranger.” I gave him a warm smile and proceeded to make my leave, finally catching sight of my friends.

“Wait! What’s your name?” He shouted.

I looked at his curious gaze and gave a small shrug before proceeding to walk away.

What a night.

#kpop #seventeen #svt #jeonghan #seventeen x oc #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x oc #svt jeonghan #svt jeonghan x oc #svt au

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wooahaes · 1 year

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a little extra space

pairing: non-idol!vernon x gn!reader

prompt: tree decorating

word count: 0.8k~

warnings: n/a just fluff.

daisy’s notes: yeah this ones connected to seungkwans lmao. im still bad at titles sue me.

“Leave enough branches so that the kids don’t have to reach too high, okay?”

Vernon had offered to help you decorate the tree you’d brought into your classroom that year. He was festive enough with his own decorations (one little tree that sat on the table behind his desk), and you were far more excited about decorating when the two of you talked over dinner, so... why not? He’d helped you with the lights, and now he was sitting on the floor with you, hanging small, round ornaments on the bottom of the tree. You’d told him he only reason you committed to decorating so much here was for two reasons: your apartment didn’t have the space for a big tree like this (which was true: he’d gone over there enough times to know that the tiny tree you kept was all you could work with), and because the kids always loved seeing your decorations.

“I know,” he said, turning back to your box of plastic ornaments. “We’ve done this before.”

That the two of you had. You’d asked him for help two years ago and that was what sparked your relationship. One of the third grade teachers had taken maternity leave in the middle of November due to complications (that thankfully, from what Vernon heard, meant nothing once she was given the chance to rest instead of keeping up with the kids), and you’d been there to take her place. You’d admitted that this time of year was always your favorite because you liked spreading joy. He’d come into his classroom to see a candy cane on his desk with a little tag attached to it with a “happy holidays!” written in swirly writing purposefully done to be cute. All the third grade teachers received them, but it’d made him smile nonetheless.

And unfortunately for Vernon, kids were smarter than he thought. Your name had been brought up by one of his kids months later, and they’d proudly asked “are you two in looooove?!” with glee.

He’d changed the topic immediately to go back to the lesson. It didn’t help when you stopped by, dropping off the papers he’d left on the printer during lunch, and smiled at him.

(”That’s the look my dad gives my mom! Mr. Chwe, are you in love?!” Kids were truly too smart for their own good, even if he did continue to deny it.)

Then you started asking him for help more often with decorating. For Valentines day, because you always had a little hearts theme and candy to give out; for Halloween, too, because you loved your black cats and bats. It eventually turned into asking him to help out with... literally anything. Prepping your classroom for the new year (you’d always return the favor, too), after breaks...

“You know, I’m starting to think you’re in love with me,” he’d teased while helping you line one of your bulletin boards after the school year had come and went that first year. He honestly hated seeing everything come down.

You’d looked up. “You’re just now noticing?”

(The lunch you treated him to after he helped you take down Christmas decorations that year was pointedly not meant to be friendly, and neither was the kiss on his cheek you’d left him with after asking if you could. He didn’t think it was, but he’d fight Chan for talking him out of thinking so when he pointed out that you were affectionate with everyone.)

That had been a year and a half ago, and now Vernon was proudly your boyfriend (to other staff--the kids would never know unless and until the two of you ever got married). He liked doing things like this with you. Decorating your classroom, bringing coffee to you in the mornings, making copies of worksheets... It was a little sign that he cared about you without being obvious about it, even if it did net him a little bit of teasing from the older staff members.

“I wish my apartment was bigger,” you sighed.

He shrugged, not really thinking as he hung a blue ornament on a low branch. “Why don’t you just move in with me? I’ve got plenty of space and I’m closer to the school.”

You looked up. He continued decorating without a word. “Wait, what?”

And Vernon realized what he said. “Never mind, you don’t have to--”

“No, let’s talk about this,” you said. “Do you want me to move in with you?”

He didn’t meet your eyes as he pressed his lips together. “I’ve thought about it. I mean, it’d be nice... We’d save on rent, you wouldn’t have to get up so early to commute here, we’d get more time together--”

You leaned in, kissing him quickly. He smiled against your lips, thankful that the two of you were alone save for the rest of the school staff. “I’d love to.”

(And if that lead to the two of you making plans to decorate your apartment in the future... then Vernon was more than happy to do it, as long as he woke up and went to bed with you every day.)

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune

#wooahaes.dec22 #wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #seventeen fluff #vernon x reader #vernon x you #svt vernon x reader #svt vernon x you #chwe vernon x reader #chwe vernon x you #chwe hansol x reader #chwe hansol x you

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hannahssimblr · 5 months

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Chapter Twenty (Part 2)

I text Claire when I’m on the bus and tell her I can’t make it to the hotel. Her response is immediate.

Why???

I tell her about how Jude invited me to Dublin, and as soon as I hit send my phone starts ringing. I pick it up and she’s immediately talking.

“Did he actually?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God.”

“I know.”

“So you’re going to Dublin?”

“I’m on the bus now.”

She gasps. “Is there other people going?”

“Yeah of course, it’s hardly going to be just me.”

“Still.” There’s a pause. “He might kiss you again.” She says it like it’s a warning, but I can’t help but conjure up the memory of him pressing me into a trellis wall at the festival, hot breath on my face, and my stomach feels funny.

“Hopefully.”

She laughs. “Hopefully not! You tell him that if he’s going to mess around with your feelings then I’m going to kick his arse. Or I’ll get Shane to do it.”

“Oh, you didn’t tell him about what happened, did you?” I feel my face burning.

“No way! I’ll just tell him to kick his arse and he’ll do it for me, no questions asked. I’ll make him fly to Berlin if I have to.”

I smile. “Whatever.”

“I want updates when you get back.”

“Ditto! I’m sorry I won’t see you before the debs. Be sure to take loads of photos, and tell me if there’s any scandal.”

“Oh I will.” She says. “Although I bet it’ll be a lot of Rock the Boat and the Cha Cha Slide, so more than likely nothing exciting whatsoever.”

“You don’t think Rock the Boat is exciting, no?”

She snorts. “Good luck tonight babes. Remember what I said. Keep him at an arm’s length.”

“I promise.” I say, my fingers crossed in my lap, and I hang up the phone.

I clamber off the bus on George’s Quay and the city is thronged. The traffic is snaking along the river, buses and bicycles all fighting for space on the narrow road, and it’s noisy. There’s this incessant roar of a hundred collective engines idling, people talking, shouting, the hiss of the bus as it opens up the luggage compartment. I feel very tiny. I join a crowd of people waiting for the lights to change to cross over O’Connell bridge, and I’m carried along with the wave of bodies when the light turns green, the pedestrian crossing making that incessant beeping sound. I’m trying my best to look like I know what I’m doing in case someone mistakes me for a tourist and pickpockets me or something, and tell myself I’ll have to get used to this, because when I go to college I’ll be doing this every day.

I queue up for the city bus near the Spire, and I never remember it being so huge. Everything here is huge. People’s faces don’t seem friendly, all hard lines and vacant eyes, that rush-hour stare. Someone shoulders past me as I cling to a yellow handrail on the crowded bus, and doesn’t even turn around to say sorry. I text my mam, letting her know I’m okay, even though I’m not convinced I am.

I get off at Seafield Road, just like Jude told me to, and make my way up the street, looking out for any of the landmarks he mentioned. It’s a big, leafy suburban area lined with big red brick 1930s houses on both sides of the road.

I hang a left off Seafield and head up Vernon Avenue, a string of Georgian terraces that opens out onto the sea. The air is fresh in a way that reminds me of the holiday village, but the seafront in Clontarf has nothing on the one I spent the summer on. It’s built up here, pathways and benches and those outdoor gym machines that nobody ever really uses, it isn’t as unspoiled and beautiful, instead it’s so very urban. I peer over a wall and down into the outdoor area of a trendy restaurant full of trendy people eating al-fresco, their plates adorned with microscopic portions of oysters and scallops and other expensive foods I’ve never tasted. A man with a booming voice says something down his phone about owning properties in Howth and I wonder if my mother really was onto something when she said this area was posh.

I arrive outside Jude’s house. It’s an old Georgian place with lush foliage outside, a brand new car sitting in the driveway. It’s all period details and sash windows, a set of wide stone steps leading up to the front door, which has a classic arched fan light above it. It’s the nicest house on the street by far. It looks like it should be featured in a magazine.

I quickly learn though, that when very cool kids say that a party starts at seven, they apparently don’t mean seven. I’m the first to arrive, and Jude actually looks surprised when he opens the door to me.

“Oh, Evie, Hi.” He says, the heavy-handed plonking sounds of a piano drifting into the hall behind him. ‘I didn’t think you’d come so early, I still have to shower.” Oh God, no. He lets me in anyway. “Come in, my sister is just practising for her piano lessons. They start up again next week but she hasn’t played all summer.” He rolls his eyes. “In case you can’t tell. She sounds shite.” He sounds especially American in this environment, so it’s freaky to hear him use a word like “shite.”

I step into the hallway, high ceilinged with a herringbone wood floor that extends into the back of the house. It’s been built well into the garden, huge windows with glass so clean it’s invisible look out over a patio with all that expensive outdoor furniture that you sit on in the showroom to pretend that you’re the kind of person who could justify paying for something that’s only brought out of the shed for three months a year.

I want to say something like: “I never knew you were so rich” to him, before I decide that it might sound stupid. I just walk on through to the open kitchen and dining area and act like I’m always in giant, converted Georgian houses, and this is all completely uninteresting to me.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” He asks me, and I nod, and then sit there watching him make it, perched on a barstool, the white marble countertops cool under my elbows.

“I’m sorry I’m early.” I say. “I thought it was at seven.”

“No it’s fine, I said seven in the text. I should have been more specific.”

“More specific about…?”

“That seven doesn’t mean seven, it means like, sometime after eight.”

“Oh sorry. I didn’t know there was a cipher now.” He smiles and shakes his head as he tosses a tea bag into a mug, and by now it’s like I can read his mind: He doesn’t think I should apologise for not knowing that, but it doesn’t make me feel any less stupid.

There’s a sudden clacking on the wooden floors and Jude’s mother strides into the room jangling keys. I whip around to look at her. She’s a very young, very beautiful woman with blonde hair in a gamine style. She pauses when she sees me. “Oh hello.”

“Mom this is my friend Evie, Evie this is my mom.” Jude says.

“Hello…. Missus Turner.” I say, because that’s how they address people’s parents on American TV, but it just seems to amuse her. She has the same loping half-smile as her son, and regards me with Jude’s eyes, which is disconcerting. It’s the exact same, sharp, steady gaze that always seems as though it’s cutting through me. “Oh, darling, it’s just Colette.” She insists, and her accent is so posh that it’s almost British. “You’re one of the girls from the Holy Faith school?”

“No, I’m actually not. I’m from Tullamore. In Offaly.”

“Oh Offaly.” She says dully. “Very nice.”

“She’s one of my friends from holidays.” Jude clarifies.

“Oh right yeah, you’re Shane’s sister.”

Jude slides the mug of tea in front of me and I take it immediately, grateful to have something to do with my hands. “No, um. No I’m not.”

“Ah.” She reaches for her handbag from the dining table and rifles through it impatiently. “Jude, have you seen my reading glasses? I can’t find them.”

“Did you check the office?”

“Why would they be there?”

“I’m just asking did you check there.”

They bicker back and forth while I sip sheepishly on my tea. She seems intense, but actually, now that I think about it, sometimes Jude seems intense too. I feel a little wounded that Colette has never heard of me, because it means Jude didn’t bother to mention me. When he told her about his holidays and all the things that happened, I wasn’t in even one of his stories? It’s depressing.

She leaves the room, and I hear her opening a door, the jarring piano music suddenly amplified. “Ivy, get ready please, I want to leave in five minutes.” She shuts it again. Neither Jude nor I say anything until the footsteps have disappeared into the landing upstairs

“They’re going to my Aunt’s house this evening.” He tells me. “They’ll stay until midnight, maybe, and then they’re coming back.”

“Oh right.”

“How’s your tea?”

“It’s lovely, thank you.”

The room feels very large around me, and I feel like I’m Alice. I’ve drunk the potion and I keep shrinking into my environment. The smallest girl alive. Soon I’ll be a microscopic speck on these parquet floors.

“Who’s coming tonight?” I finally say into the long silence, and Jude slumps on the counter, looking very thoughtful. “A few people. Not many you’d know. Actually, except for Jen.”

“What about Kasper and Joe?”

“Everyone got their college offers today, so some people have other plans. They’re too busy to see me off before my big voyage…”

“Oh!” I exclaim. “I never asked about your leaving cert. How were your results?”

“I was happy.” He says with infuriating vagueness.

“Yes okay but what did you get?”

He laughs. “What’s it to you? It doesn’t matter.”

“I want to know, come on, you can’t withhold that.”

“I got enough to secure my place at university.”

“Which is?”

He rolls his eyes. “Five hundred and fifty.”

“Out of six hundred?!”

“Yes of course out of six hundred.” He chuckles. “What else?”

“That’s amazing! Congratulations.” I reach out across the counter and pull him into a hug.

“Thank you.” His cheeks have turned pink. “But if you tell anyone I’ll kill you.”

“Why, so they don’t figure out how much of a nerd you are?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly it.”

His little sister runs into the room and grabs her shoes from the mat beside the patio door. “Hello.” She says to me as she fiddles with the velcro straps.

“Hi.” I say back.

“Ivy, this is my friend Evie.” Jude tells her. “Evie, this is my sister Ivy. The one who was playing the terrible piano.”

“Mean.” She pouts.

“Yes, mean!” I agree. “I think you sounded great.”

“She’s lying.” Jude says, and she darts over to karate chop the air in front of his stomach a dozen times. He puts his hand on top of her head and musses up her long, fawn coloured hair . “If you want me to say you’re good then you should have just practised.”

“You should have just practised.” She mocks.

“Do I sound like that?” Jude asks me.

I snicker. “Yeah you do.”

He pokes her in the ribs and she squeals, racing across the room away from him. I sit back and smile to myself as he messes with her. I’m seeing a side to him that I never thought about him having. On his own he’s nearly mythical, this mysterious puzzle to solve, and here in his native environment he seems like an ordinary boy. Someone’s big brother. I imagine him growing up within these four walls, arriving when he wasn’t too much older than Ivy is now. Picturing him as a child is pulling at my heartstrings.

I briefly meet his father too, before they leave for the night; A big American man with a loud voice who also looks altogether far too young to have an eighteen year old son, and he’s firmly uninterested in me. He doesn’t stick around to exchange pleasantries and the three of them leave about one minute after I meet him, which I don’t mind. Jude goes to have a shower after that, and he leaves me alone in the big kitchen, spinning around on the barstool and reading the spines of all the cookbooks on a shelf until he comes back downstairs.

I help him to bring glasses and plates out to the table on the patio, and he starts unloading a shopping bag full of spirits onto the countertop. I nervously ask him if we’re going to be drinking all of that tonight, and he sarcastically replies that yes, we will be, and I personally will have to have at least two of the bottles to myself or he’ll tell everyone I’m a freak. There’s loads of food too. Oven pizzas and chips, chicken goujons, and those indian snacks you get at Marks and Spencers. I put on the oven and shovel everything in while we make idle smalltalk, never once mentioning the festival, the kissing, or the fact that by this time tomorrow, he’ll be gone, because whenever the conversation veers that way, he gets distracted by something else and we wind up changing the subject.

Prev // Next

#sims #sims 4 #ts4 #simlit #sims 4 story #sims story #writing #romance #fiction #sims 4 storytelling #sims4 storytelling #sims storytelling #lucky girl part 1

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brookston · 1 year

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Holidays 11.22

Holidays

Alice's Restaurant Massacre Day

Arbour Day (British Virgin Islands)

Conspiracy Theory Day

Day of Justice (Azerbaijan)

Day of the Albanian Alphabet

Go For A Ride Day

Good Married Couple Day (Japan)

Hockey Day

Humane Society Day

International Music Day

JFK Assassination Day

Kanakdasa Jayanti (Karnataka, India)

Music Day (Spain)

Musican’s Day (Mexico)

National Brand Day

National Housing Day (Canada)

National Stop the Violence Day

Phonograph Day

Skywriting Day

Slumber Party Day

Start Your Own Country Day

Teacher’s Day (Costa Rica)

White Album Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Cranberry Relish Day

National Cashew Day

4th Tuesday in November

National Day of Mourning (United American Indians of New England) [4th Tuesday]

Presidential Turkey Pardon Day [4th Tuesday]

Independence Days

Lebanon (from France, 1943)

Feast Days

Amphilochius of Iconium (Christian; Saint)

Blackbeard Memorial Day (Pastafarian)

Cecilia (Christian; Saint)

Clone Day (Church of the SubGenius)

Colbert (Positivist; Saint)

George (Eastern Orthodox; Georgia)

Herbert (Christian; Saint)

Light Snow (Chinese Farmer’s Calendar)

Philemon and Appia (Christian; Saint)

Pragmatius of Autun (Christian; Saint)

Theodorus the Studite (Christian; Saint)

Vernon the Grizzly Bear (Muppetism)

Ydalir (festival to Ullr, god of archery & skiing; Ancient Norse)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Tomobiki (友引 Japan) [Good luck all day, except at noon.]

Premieres

The Addams Family )Film; 1991)

Back to the Future Part II (Film; 1989)

The Beatles [The White Album] (Album; 1968)

Beauty and the Beast (Animated Disney Film; 1991)

Blue Hawaii (Film; 1961) [Elvis Presley #8]

Boléro, by Maurice Ravel (Orchestral Work; 1928)

Casino (Film; 1995)

Coco (Animated Film; 2017)

Darkest Hour (Film; 2017)

Die Another Day (US Film; 2002) [James Bond #20]

Frida (Film; 2002)

Frozen 2 (Animated Disney Film; 2019)

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (Film; 2013)

Hypnotize, by System of a Down (Album; 2005)

Jelly Roll Blues, recorded by Bunny Berigan (Song; 1938)

King Solomon’s Mines (Film; 1985)

Man of La Mancha (Broadway Musical; 1965)

The Producers (Film; 1967)

Toy Story (Animated Pixar Film; 1995)

Vitalogy, by Pearl Jam (Album; 1994)

With the Beatles, by The Beatles (Album; 1963)

Today’s Name Days

Cäcilia, Salvator (Austria)

Cecilija, Cilika, Dobrila, Filemon (Croatia)

Cecílie (Czech Republic)

Cecilia (Denmark)

Cecilia, Säsil, Silja, Silje, Sille (Estonia)

Cecilia, Seela, Selja, Silja (Finland)

Cécile (France)

Cäcilia, Rufus, Salvator, Silja (Germany)

Cecilia, Filemon, Filimon, Philimon, Valerios (Greece)

Cecília (Hungary)

Cecilia (Italy)

Aldis, Aldonis, Alfons, Alfonss, Alfs (Latvia)

Cecilija, Cilė, Dargintė, Steikintas (Lithuania)

Cecilie, Silje, Sissel (Norway)

Cecylia, Marek, Maur, Wszemiła (Poland)

Cecília (Slovakia)

Cecilio, Filemón (Spain)

Cecilia, Sissela (Sweden)

Cecelia, Philemon, Yaropolk (Ukraine)

Abbey, Abbie, Abby, Abigail, Cecelia, Cecil, Cecilia, Cecily, Cecyl, Celia, Gail Gale, Galen, Gay, Gayle, Philemon, Philo, Shayla, Sheila (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 326 of 2022; 39 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 2 of week 47 of 2022

Celtic Tree Calendar: Hagal (Constraint) [Day 25 of 28]

Chinese: Month 10 (Lùyuè), Day 29 (Ji-Mao)

Chinese Year of the: Tiger (until January 22, 2023)

Hebrew: 28 Cheshvan 5783

Islamic: 27 Rabi II 1444

J Cal: 26 Mir; Foursday [26 of 30]

Julian: 9 November 2022

Moon: 2%: Waning Crescent

Positivist: 18 Frederic (12th Month) [Colbert]

Runic Half Month: Nyd (Necessity) [Day 13 of 15]

Season: Autumn (Day 61 of 90)

Zodiac: Scorpio (Day 31 of 31)

#calendar #Holidays

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newjerseyisthebest · 6 months

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Velociraptor statue at the Vernon Lights Festival in December 2019 in Vernon New Jersey.

#vernon lights festival #New Jersey #nj #vernon #hello panda #photo #hello panda festivals #dinosaur

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drahtphotography · 2 years

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Look at this! Eric has some words to share! Draht Photography

New Post has been published on https://www.drahtphotography.com/the-westside-wedding-sampler/

The Westside Wedding Sampler

September 17th was a bright and sunny day after a week of rain, and that’s a good thing – we had constant sunshine on this beautiful day. This wedding takes place out on Westside Road, which is one of my favourite spots in the whole Okanagan to shoot. You’ll see why soon enough!

We start out, of course, with the details. And we’ve got a lot. Flowers by Vernon Flowers, and the arrangement was just stunning!

The eagle-eyed viewers will start to nice a westside theme.

This is a backyard wedding, which are quickly becoming my favourite weddings. Instead of hotel rooms, we had huge houses surrounded by thick forest today.

And before long, this fella was ready for his first look.

Over at the girls, we just just finishing up.

We had a first look at Fintry Park. In the huge field with the sun shining through, it was such a moment.

After the first look, we walked into an overgrown shed I had scouted out, which looked a lot better than it sounds.

Back at the house, many of the guests had already arrived. Ring security was on the job, keeping everyone in line.

The ceremony was so much fun. The vows, the expressions, and the guests made it such a memorable time. The sun sank lower, giving the whole scene this unreal backlit glow.

I’m getting really good at group photos.

After the ceremony, we took off to get a few photos before dinner. The sun was low, which makes for angular light. That’s something we’re always look for with photos. The shade makes the images pop, and it’s generally the most flattering light you can get.

We finished up, and headed to the hall. A little known fact is that my favourite two places for receptions is old church basements (I’m not kidding, they’re so photogenic!) and halls with really high roofs. This hall had this incredible old school vibe.

Unfortunately, this is where I’ll have to leave you. This is a just a sneak peek of the festivities we enjoyed yesterday. This sunny day in the heavy forests of westside.

This is quite a large sneak peek, at 62 images in total, but there’s more coming! In about three weeks. If you’d like to be notified when the album is ready, click here to be added to the list.

If you’d like to keep up with my work, feel free to give me a follow on instagram or facebook. Thanks for reading this far, and we’ll see you for the next sneak peek in a few weeks!

#Kelowna #fintry #vernon #wedding #westside #sampler #dress #wedsidy

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gyuscoffee · 12 days

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a reason to stay sober

𝜗𝜚 kim mingyu x reader | 1.4k words | fluff

♫ ready to love — seventeen

♡ mentions of drinking + seungkwan being a menace

"So, are you two dating?"

You automatically pulled off from Mingyu on the couch, the punch you were drinking caught in your throat.

"Are you okay?" Mingyu asks as you cough, worry filling his eyes. Seungkwan sat in front of the both of you, laughing at your reaction.

You straightened your posture, finding your voice, "Seungkwan, you're drunk," You flushed red as Mingyu's arm reached your lower back to help you.

"I've only had three shots with Chan," Seungkwan rolled his eyes and stood up from his seat, "Guess I'll leave you two love birds then."

You stare in shock at Seungkwan leaving, surprised at his bluntness. "Mingyu, why didn't you say anything to Seungkwan?" You place your cup on the table before turning to your best friend, "He thinks we're dating?"

Mingyu grinned at your serious face, "Forget what he said, Seungkwan's probably drunk." Mingyu pulled you back to his embrace, changing the topic, "Besides, it's my birthday."

"But he said he only had three shots?" You shook your head at your own words, deciding to move past what just happened.

You glance up at the clock in the living room to check the time, "Hey, let me just go refill my drink. I'll be back."

Mingyu's hold loosened as you stood up from your seat, but his hands held onto your arms to stop you.

“Do you remember what I asked you for tonight?” Mingyu stares at you with a grin that makes you roll your eyes playfully.

“Yes,” You ruffle Mingyu’s hair while he pouts at the action, “We promised not to drink tonight.”

Mingyu nodded, “Okay, come back quickly.”

At that moment, Vernon, Seokmin, and Minghao walked through Mingyu’s front door, coming straight to greet Mingyu as you left him.

The warm ambiance of Mingyu's house enveloped you, the lighting casting a soft glow over the familiar surroundings. Framed photographs adorned the walls, capturing memories of past celebrations and gatherings with friends.

It was the night before Mingyu's birthday, and he wanted a party at his house with all your close friends to celebrate. What Mingyu didn't know was that you baked a cake for him to bring out when midnight struck.

You looked around Mingyu's house, spotting your two friends by the balcony.

"Soonyoung, Chan, it's ten minutes till midnight!" The two boys stopped their conversation to head to the kitchen and help you.

The kitchen buzzed with activity, laughter, and chatter filling the air as some friends mingled and prepared for the surprise. Streamers and balloons adorned the countertops, adding to the festive atmosphere.

You and Soonyoung were going to light the cake while Chan discreetly went around the house to give out confetti and party hats.

"Chan, make sure no one takes everything out until we turn off the lights!" You exclaim loudly over the music, hoping no one would spoil the surprise.

"He'll be fine, just worry about the candles," Soonyoung says to you, watching you place the candles into the cake carefully.

You shake your head and put your attention away, "Seungkwan and Chan took shots earlier, so I'm hoping Chan isn't as drunk as Seungkwan..."

Soonyoung places the lighter on the counter to light the candles. "Seungkwan is drunk? I saw him before, but he was just tipsy,"

You focus on placing the final two candles on the cake, hoping not to ruin the decorations on the top.

"He asked if me and Mingyu were dating, so I think he's drunk Soonyoung," You shrug your shoulders before moving away from the cake, allowing him to start lighting the candles.

Soonyoung laughs at your serious face, recalling the question that caught you off guard moments ago.

"He did? I thought you were telling Mingyu late-"

You placed a finger over your mouth, "Keep it down! Soonyoung, everyone's going to hear!"

Soonyoung looked around the kitchen, seeing who was around the two of you. The kitchen was open to the dining room but not to the living room where Mingyu was, with only Seungcheol and Jihoon sitting on the dining table.

Soonyoung grabbed the lighter and lit the candles one by one. "Like I was saying," he spoke quieter so you wouldn't be nervous, "Weren't you planning on confessing your feelings to Mingyu tonight?"

Letting out a sigh, you walked over to Mingyu's fridge to grab the first handle of alcohol you can spot. "I was, before I saw Mingyu's reaction when Seungkwan asked us if we were dating."

You poured yourself a cup before placing it next to the cake. "He was speechless like me, not even saying anything. I don't think I should anymore."

Soonyoung looked at your cup and checked his phone quickly, "Well, maybe Seungkwan asked the question everyone has been wondering. Anyway, drink later because it's one minute until midnight, let's go."

Before you could respond, Soonyoung placed the cake in your hand and stared at your friends near you. "Seungcheol, Jihoon, let's go do the cake!"

Abandoning the alcohol on the counter, you made your way through the dimly lit hallway, the anticipation building with each step as you approached the living room where Mingyu awaited his surprise. As the three of them walked ahead of you, you were confused by Seungkwan's words and now Soonyoung's.

Shaking the thought away, you rushed to the living room as soon as Soonyoung shut off the lights.

The room erupted into song, the harmonious voices of your friends filling the space with warmth and affection. The flickering light of the television illuminated their smiling faces, adding to the moment.

"Happy birthday to you," You felt everyone's eyes on you despite the dark room.

"Happy birthday to you," You caught Mingyu's widened eyes as he watched you walk over to him,

"Happy birthday, dear Mingyu," Now you stood in front of Mingyu as he got up from his seat to face the cake,

"Happy birthday to you!" The song finished as you smiled at your best friend.

"Make a wish!" The soft glow of candlelight bathed Mingyu's face as he made his wish, his expression one of quiet contemplation before he leaned forward and extinguished the flames with a single breath, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Before you could say another word, everyone was setting off their confetti in the room.

As the lights flickered back on, revealing the delighted expressions of your friends, the room erupted into a symphony of cheers and applause, the energy palpable as everyone joined in the celebration.

Wonwoo came up next to Mingyu to talk to him, so you decided to go cut the cake. Knowing your friends, all of them wanted a slice later.

As you made it to the kitchen, you felt a presence trailing behind you, "Seungkwan, I know you love cake, but let me cut it first,"

"I'm not Seungkwan." You turned to see Mingyu standing there, "Oh, hey, did you like the surprise?" You asked, looking for a knife to cut the cake.

"Yeah, but you still haven't got me a proper gift," Mingyu was now next to you, pouting his lips.

"Hey, is a homemade cake not enough?" You laughed, knowing Mingyu was joking.

Mingyu shrugged, "You know I'm kidding, the cake is enough. I know you were busy recently, so I appreciate that you baked it for me."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you stopped looking for the knife, grabbing the cup full of alcohol next to you that you couldn’t drink earlier.

Mingyu's eyes widened as he watched you chug the entire cup down, "Woah, I thought we agreed not to drink tonight? Stop."

"No," you face Mingyu and place the cup down, "I need some liquid courage for this, what I say next is now on the alcohol."

You walked closer to Mingyu, putting both hands on his arms, "Mingyu, I like you more than friends. Actually, I think I'm in love with y-"

Suddenly, you felt Mingyu's lips on yours, pulling you even closer to him as he cupped your face. Your body froze in shock as he pulled away.

"Did you just kiss me?"

Mingyu kept his close distance from you, only inches away, "Well, now this is an even better gift," He smiled cheekily at you and wrapped his hands around yours.

That's when you suddenly realize that you never got a reply. "Wait, you didn't even say it back! Kim Mingyu!" You turn to the cake beside you and swipe it with a finger, placing frosting on Mingyu's face.

Mingyu's mouth opens in shock at your action, "You remember what I kept repeating all day?”

You remembered the agreement, “Now that I think about it, why are we staying sober tonight? We always drink on your birthday.”

Mingyu looked at you seriously, “I asked you not to drink because I wanted you to be sober while I confessed to you tonight."

Suddenly he smirked, and before you know it, there's frosting on your face, too. “Guess you beat me to it!”

"Oh, you're asking for it!" You grab another swipe of frosting before Mingyu runs away to the living room.

You laugh as you hear him scream to your friends, "I have a girlfriend now!"

masterlist

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oldthymefarm · 27 days

Link

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Lillian Vernon Corp. Lighted Porcelain Christmas General Store.

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realtorjamier · 4 months

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Things to Do in January in the DMV!

If you’re prone to the post-holiday blues, we’ve got some ideas for January rejuvenation, starting off with a New Year’s Day run or hike and ending with a Monster Jam. Whether you’re a car fanatic, a gamer, or a yogi devotee, you won’t have to hibernate this January.

January 1

New Year’s Day 5K

Run a 5K on New Year’s Day! Start the new year with a healthy activity and set a precedent for the rest of 2023. Ashburn, Bethesda, Reston, Gaithersburg, Arlington, and several other cities in the D.C. area will offer up their streets for a cold-weather frolic into fitness.

January 1

First Day Hikes in Maryland First Day Hikes in Virginia

If hiking is more your speed, check out the First Day Hikes (ranger-led or self-guided) available as part of a nationwide initiative led by America’s State Parks.

January 1 to February 12

Winter Lantern Festival Lerner Town Square 8025 Galleria Drive Tysons, VA

If you missed experiencing this dazzling landscape of lights in December, there’s still time to see it. Over 1,000 Chinese lanterns – all handmade by artisans – display their light and warmth for your amazement and for great photo ops!

January 3 – 22

Wicked The Kennedy Center 2700 F St NW Washington, D.C.

What happened in the Land of Oz before Dorothy arrived? The Broadway sensation tells the story of a misunderstood young woman with emerald-green skin and her bubbly blonde friend. This is the untold true story of the Witches of Oz. Check the website for specific days and times.

January 5 – 8

Super MAGFest Gaylord National Resort and Convention Center 201 Waterfront Street Oxon Hill, MD

MAGFest (Music And Gaming Festival) celebrates video game music, gaming, and the gaming community with the goals of education, appreciation, and preservation of the culture and history of video games.

January 6

Dancing with the Stars MGM National Harbor 101 MGM National Ave. National Harbor, MD

The live Dancing with the Stars tour will recreate the most memorable dances from the program’s previous seasons and showcase brand new never-before-seen routines.

January 6 – 8

Jurassic Quest Fredericksburg Expo and Conference Center 2371 Carl D. Silver Pkwy. Fredericksburg, VA

This family friendly event allows people to interact with life size animatronic dinosaurs, including the T-Rex and 50-foot long Megalodon! It’s a huge hit for both kids and adults.

January 12 – 16

Interfusion Festival Crystal Gateway Marriott 700 Richmond Hwy. Arlington, VA

Founded in 2016 under The Institute for Integrative Wellness, this festival includes educational offerings in positive psychology, meditation, and expressive arts. The Interfusion Festival aims to bring awareness of practices that may help combat mental health crises.

January 16

Martin Luther King Jr. Day Celebration Richard Montgomery High School 250 Richard Montgomery Drive Rockville, MD

Join the City of Rockville for the 51st annual Martin Luther King Jr. Day Celebration. Performances and awards recognizing Rockville community members who carry on King’s legacy.

January 20 – 29

Washington Auto Show Walter E Washington Convention Center 801 Mount Vernon Place, NW Washington, D.C.

More than 600 new car models from over 35 manufacturers will display their engineering prowess. This year will include an all-new EV Pavilion, classic cars, exotics, and more. VIP tours will be led by award-winning automotive writers, and there will be a special exhibit area for live painting of “art” cars. The Washington, D.C. Auto Show is the largest public show in the nation’s capital.

January 22

Lunar New Year Parade Near Gallery Place – Chinatown Metro Stop Washington, D.C.

Celebrate the Year of the Rabbit with Mayor Muriel Bowser and the Mayor’s Office on Asian and Pacific Islander Affairs (MOAPIA). The afternoon will feature colorful, traditional performances topped off with a fireworks finale.

January 28

Mandy Patinkin in Concert 5301 Tuckerman Lane North Bethesda, MD

Emmy-winning TV star and Tony-winning Broadway legend, Mandy Patinkin’s BEING ALIVE is a collection of many of Patinkin’s favorite Broadway and classic American tunes. From Irving Berlin to Stephen Sondheim, from Cole Porter to Harry Chapin, Patinkin takes you on a dazzling musical journey.

January 28 – 29

Monster Jam Capital One Arena 601 F St., NW Washington, D.C.

If action-packed motorsports are your jam, you’ll enjoy watching world-class driver athletes competing in intense competitions at Monster Jam. The trucks’ engines generate 1,500 horsepower due to a supercharger that forces air and fuel into the engine. The Monster Jam Pit Party (requiring a separate admission ticket) allows you to see these massive trucks up close and participate in Q & As with the drivers.

[BONUS]: February 4

February First Saturday | Fire in Ice Downtown Frederick, MD

So it’s technically not a January activity but it’s close enough and it’s much too exciting to leave out! From in-store tastings to gallery openings to vendor exhibitions, there’s tons to explore in this unique event as Frederick is turned into a winter wonderland. Visitors can also explore more than 100 ice sculptures all over town!

#jamierichards #realtorjamier #realestateagent #realestate #realestatetips #things to do #things to do in january #january #activities in january

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twogyuu · 1 year

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Feu D'Artifice

Pairing: Vernon x fem!reader (ft. Chan and Mingyu)

Synopsis: "The Robin Hood of street racing," Chan liked to call him. You had laughed in your friend's face when he first told you about Vernon, but when you actually met him, you couldn't help but be curious about what was behind that stoic façade and his rusted Toyota Celica.

Please note this particular fic focuses on another moment in time after Vernon and OC have met!

Genre: I'm not sure what to label this? Fluff? 😬 Hints of crack, the ending hints at angst. S2L, mild idiots-to-lovers, streetracer!Vernon, mechanic!reader, mechanic!Mingyu, streetracer! Chan, implied antagonist!Baekho

Warnings: Use of profanity, mentions of alcohol, clubbing, mild themes of misogyny, mildly suggestive(?) - they just kiss . . . also contains inaccuracies about cars and street racing (all I know is that it's illegal - kids please do not do illegal things okay? Y'all know better)

WC: ~4.2K

Permanent taglist: @sleeplessdawn @woozarts @wonuziex @sadkidwarexpert @rockwidthyou @jeonghanniehae95 @nanamioo @bibinnieposts

A/N: I write like I'm a frequent club goer lol, but promise I've only gone twice 😅 Let alone to one of those basement parties. Partially inspired by the 'Anyone' special choreography, partially inspired by Baekho's 'Festival In My Car' (yet I made the man the antagonist smh 😅). this is probably one of my favorite pieces in a while 😊 Some day, I'll flesh out this whole story of streetracer!Vernon, but for now, have this - I was too excited and deep in my Vernon feels and wanted to share it with you all. @aceofvernons LOOK AWAY - I'm inconsistent with my biases. . . wbk 😞✊🏻

A purple neon light that once boldly stated ‘Joshua’s,’ flickered pitifully overhead– it was probably on its last few batteries. The wooden door to the parlor was seemingly intimidating despite how ordinary and beat up it looked; there was even a dent in the bottom right corner. One would think that a club this popular among street racers there would be a line snaking out the door and wrapping around the building. Yet, the streets were eerily empty, sans a few hobos making their way across the empty field across from the rundown brick buildings. The pebbled and broken pavement were damp from the sleet earlier today. There was an icy bite in the evening air that seemed to seep into every opening of his clothing and settle into his skin.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Vernon tucked his hands into the depths of his leather jacket, letting the cold air pierce his lungs as he tried to collect himself before knocking in code against the door as you had instructed. The memory of you leaning against his car with that grease-stained jumpsuit wrapped around your body and your arms folded across your chest was fresh in his mind. He remembered the way you had leaned over, lips ghosting against the shell of his ear, your sweet voice telling him, “It’s morse code for speed.” Your hands were already knocking softly against the metal of the hood of his car.

Vernon did not like to “go out” and “party” like other street racers. He did his duty on the streets, won his money, and went home. It was his routine and it was the promise he made himself. He vowed never to get involved in the social aspect of street racing. His mentor, Sohee, had told him, “that’s how you lose yourself in the game.”

Yet here he was, plain and in fact, he had come to the club for a girl.

Vernon didn’t like to be cliche, but he did honestly, think you weren’t just any girl.

You were different. You didn’t wear tiny skirts and shirts that barely covered your chest to the race tracks (sans the first night that you let Chan dress you so ill-tastefully). You opted for heavy boots and jeans instead; a bandana always donned your head to hold loose strands of hair back. You didn’t ask for attention from anyone, yet you still had an aura about you that commanded every street race you entered – no one dared question your expertise on their car (except for Vernon). You challenged authority (read: Baekho) and took shit from no one. More often than not, it has put you on people’s shit list – nonetheless, it didn’t seem to bother you.

To put it simply, Vernon’s interest was piqued and he knew if he wanted to know more about you, he’d have to go further than the race course to learn more.

“Vernon?” one of the bouncers said aghast, surprised to see the street racer at the club. His colleague slapped his shoulder, shooting him a warning look for letting Vernon’s name slip before he could think.

Vernon scanned the bouncers up and down. They looked vaguely familiar; probably another set of boys from the races that he didn’t know well, nor did he necessarily care to know well. Leaning against the door frame, his eyes lingered across the room: like the streets outside, it was also eerily empty. There was a short counter in the corner with a few bottles of alcohol lining the dusty shelves and two round and worn wooden tables in the center, a set of cards splayed in a game on one of them.

“The club?” Vernon turned back to them and asked simply.

“Shh!” the taller one hushed him, eyes wide. He ushered Vernon inside, while his friend secured the door. Vernon complied, wrinkling his brows together in confusion.

“You can’t just speak so openly about it,” he noted, “There are several of us down there – if the cops found out we’re all gathered in one place, easy bust.”

Vernon hummed in understanding. “Sorry – first time.”

The two friends exchanged looks; the shorter one widening his eyes and gesturing to the taller one to take him back. The latter shook his head silently; Vernon noted the sweat that broke out on his forehead. They seemed to be in a silent argument, oblivious to the fact that Vernon could see their struggle clearly despite the lack of words.

“Look, if it’s a problem that I’m here –”

“It’s fine, really,” the shorter one chuckled. He shot a glare at the taller one before flickering back to Vernon, a grin on his face. “I-I’ll take you down.”

“Alright,” Vernon shrugged.

Vernon followed him, pushing past the drapes that shielded the backroom that appeared to be some combination of a kitchen that was transformed into a storage room. Clearly, it hadn’t been used properly for the last couple of years as the stainless steel tables were stacked with boxes that had a few rusty car parts in it. The white deep porcelain sink was also stained brown – lord knows what has been poured down that drain.

“Coming?” the bouncer called.

Vernon looked up to see him holding open a door. He cocked his head to the side, noting how it was eerily dark beyond the threshold. Vernon could make out a few clinks of glass bottles and there was an echo of loud laughter, but nothing else: there was no bass of the music and no shrieks of joy.

Was this truly a club? Or had you set him up to be murdered?

He straightened his posture – he had to be on guard in case anything goes wrong. Vernon noted the newspaper covered windows and the door bolted shut in the opposite corner, presuming the way the slight wind whistled through it, it led outside as well.

“Well?” the bouncer urged, getting annoyed. “We don’t have all night.”

Silently, Vernon walked over and followed him down. Darkness surrounded them immediately as the door slammed shut; the only source of light was the flashing green and blue hues pooling at the bottom of the stairwell. Vernon paused momentarily, letting his eyes adjust before descending down the rickety stairs. He felt himself calm as he could feel the faint thump of a rhythmic drum vibrating underneath him.

When their feet landed on the cement, just yards away from the steeled entrance of the party, Vernon could already feel the various eyes of the people loitering outside on him. Bottles of beer stopped abruptly at their lips. Cigarettes placed between teeth but went unlit. The eyes of skimpily dressed women with too much eyeshadow on their lids lingered from their dates to the chestnut-haired man.

Vernon paid no mind though – he was here for you and you only.

“Right in there,” the short man pointed at a metal door. It was cracked open a notch. “Party ends at 2AM. Don’t get into fights and have fun.”

With that, he left Vernon alone, marching back up the stairs.

Sucking in another sharp breath, he tugged at the hem of his leather jacket before marching inside. Immediately, he was met with a crowd of people. Some sort of alcoholic drink in hand, they danced and jumped to the beat of fast bass, ignoring the way the gold color liquid sloshed out of the bottles and red cups and dripped onto the cement floor.

How was he supposed to find you amidst this?

“She doesn’t dance, but you’ll find her there somewhere. She’s always looking for ways to make money,” Vernon remembered Mingyu remarking.

The bar.

Walking along the edges of the dance floor, he kept his eyes peeled for you and any signs of a counter filled with liquor. He pushed past sweaty bodies grinding against one another and brushed off the manicured hands that landed on his biceps in an attempt to seduce him. He recognized several familiar faces amidst the crowds. Stella who wore different colored wigs to every race. Minhyun, the pretty boy who refereed the start and finish of each race. Cindy, Baekho’s younger sister who came rather infrequently to races, but she was hard to miss decked out in flashy designer outfits each time. Wonwoo, the fox-eyed and stoic man, who never talked much, but he was neither friend nor foe.

“Chwe!” Vernon heard a familiar voice call after him amidst the noise. He spun around to find Mingyu, the handsome, 187cm-man hard to miss, waving at him from afar. He was leaning against a counter, an amber-colored drink in his hand, and Chan sitting in a bar stool next to him.

Vernon nodded in reply and made his way over, weaving through the crowd.

Chan sniggered playfully, clapping Vernon’s shoulder. “Glad you could make it,” he shot Mingyu a sly look, “Though I assume it wasn’t for us.”

“Nah,” Vernon jokingly punched the younger’s shoulder, “You tweakin’.”

“Are we?” Mingyu closed one eye as if he was trying to match a target. He tipped his bottle towards Vernon, “Or are you?”

Vernon shook his head and looked away at your friends’ accusation; nonetheless, a grin growing on his lips at the hints of you being around.

“Where is she?” Vernon relented.

“And he indirectly admits it!” Chan raised his hands over his head in triumph.

Mingyu smiled into the tip of his bottle. He was silent, but the direction he was looking said it all. Vernon followed his line of sight to find you wiping down the opposite counter after a few guests had left to rejoin the party. Despite the rather plain outfit of jeans and a black t-shirt you had on compared to the others here, Vernon thought you looked pretty.

“Hi,” Vernon greeted you simply as he made his way over. He settled into the empty bar stool directly in front of you and leaned over the counter so you could better hear him.

You looked up from your line of cups. He noted the way you tried to keep a straight face, but failed when the right corner of your lips twitched up into a suppressed smile.

“You made it,” you noted, trying to feign cool.

He shrugged playfully. “Yeah, I’m here.”

You nodded, dipping your chin into your chest, gripping the ledge to prevent you from keeling over. You couldn’t stand looking at him for much longer, your knees growing weak, and you weren’t sure why. It’s not like he looked any different than he did from the races. He still wore his beat up red and black leather jacket with the black t-shirt tucked into his jeans. His hair was perfectly messy – unstyled, yet still stylish.

It was just Vernon.

But why did he make you queasy and dizzy all of a sudden.

“What do you wanna drink?” you asked.

“What do you have?” he asked in return.

“Beer, tequila, vodka, and Sprite,” you rattled off, “Ran out of diet Coke – our options are limited, on a budget.”

“Is it on-the-house?” Vernon replied.

You cocked a curious eyebrow at him.

“I could repay you in other ways.”

You chuckled at his attempt to flirt and waved him off. You opted for a Sprite for him, remember Chan saying something about Vernon not being the type to drink a lot. You scooped ice and sprayed the drink from the fountain into a red solo cup and slid it over to him.

“Seduction is not a pretty color on you,” you teased, before turning around to rearrange a few items on the metallic counter behind you.

“Oh c’mon,” he sipped on the fizzy drink, “That’s not what I meant.”

You threw him a look over your shoulder. “Oh yeah? Then what?”

“Dance with me.”

You turned around and leaned back, arms folded over your chest. “I’m working.”

“Ask Mingyu to cover for you like you did for him.”

“You dance?”

He hadn’t had a drop of alcohol, but he felt like liquid courage was coursing through his veins. The adrenaline of seeing you again made him feel bold and willing to try things he wouldn’t normally do.

“Here and there,” Vernon lied. He tilted his head coyly.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Nonetheless, Vernon could tell from the way you squirmed in your spot, he gave you an offer you couldn’t deny. He noted the way your eyes flickered over to your colleague resting on a white plastic bucket in the corner and pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth. You played with the hem of your navy blue apron wrapped around your waist, your fingers dancing along the loose tie. One pull and it’d come off, and you’d be his for the night.

“You didn’t invite me just so I could watch you work, did you?” Vernon tried when you didn’t answer.

“And if I did?”

You weren’t the jealous type – Vernon knew teasing you with the idea of dancing with other people wouldn’t bug you at all. If anything, it’d only deter you further, regretting inviting him out in the first place, and worse, perhaps never getting a chance to see you again. If he was honest, however . . .

“I’d have no reason to be here then,” he gave you one last soft smile and pushed himself off the bar stool. His heart beat erratically in his chest, his mind raced at all the possible outcomes of this tease. This was bold for him. Vernon didn’t flirt like this. He wasn’t the dauntless type, he didn’t play games with women – let alone anyone.

It wasn’t him, yet simultaneously it was.

If you weren’t going to keep him company, he wasn’t going to do the same for you either.

As he took his first step away, you came rushing to his side, hands wrapping around his forearm to stop him. He looked over, peering into your eyes, wondering if you could see the precariousness in his own right now.

“F-fine,” you stammered. With one pull of the loose string behind you, the apron became undone. You let go of him to catch the falling garment. “I-I’ll dance with you, just . . . give me a second.”

Your gaze lingered on him a second too long as you returned behind the counter and walked in the direction of your co-worker. Anyone could tell, you were nervous that the chestnut-haired boy would slip out of your grasp between now and the time you went back to him. You whispered something to your friend who shot you a sly smile when you finished before looking over at Vernon again. She nodded and ushered you to go on. Your eyes remained trained on him, the world surrounding you melting alway. It was only him and you. The crowd behind him blurred together into a colorful swirl, while the blue and green lights danced across his untainted skin. Mingyu’s and Chan’s whoops fell on deaf ears; you could only hear a ringing and your controlled breathing.

“Ready?” Vernon extended a hand towards you, dragging you out of your daze. The music grew louder again. You couldn’t help, but notice the envious eyes of the few women and men loitering behind him – and it’s as if he knew. “Eyes on me.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you wiped your sweaty palms down your jeans before placing your fingers on his palm. He was quick to fold his fingers over yours, giving you one last reassuring squeeze and a lop-sided grin. Your gaze fell on your intertwined hands, his skin feeling cool against your hot ones. You wondered if he could see through your quiet facade, that inside your chest, it felt like the excitement of when you were little and someone lit a sparkler for you. The flames crackled in front of you, the naive belief that the sparkler would continue forever. A quiet moment passed between the two of you as you let all of it sink in.

Without a warning, Vernon tugged you onto the dance floor, the two of you being swallowed by the hoard of people. The rough sequin of someone’s dress scratched your arm, another set of dark-painted seductive eyes shot a wink in Vernon’s direction, someone’s hands skimmed across your forearm almost as if to stop you from going further. Amidst all the chaos, neither of you minded it, however.

Vernon was here for you, and you were here for him tonight.

Somewhere along the way, Vernon came to a stop. He had assumed he was somewhere in the middle of the dance floor and despite his best efforts to find clearing and some space where you could be comfortable, your sneakers were still toe-to-toe with one another. You peered up at him innocently, waiting for him to make a move, place his hands around your waist, spin you around and pin you flush to his back, or heck, kiss you even – but none of it ever came. He stood stiff as a sim character.

“You don’t know how to dance, do you?” you asked softly. He could hardly hear you.

“May have fibbed a little to get you to come out from behind that counter,” Vernon chortled.

A playful smile spreading across your face, your hands slinked up his forearms until you hit his elbows. You tugged them close towards your waist, then wrapping your hands around his rough fingers and gently setting them on your sides, as if to silently tell him it was okay to touch you. It was as if some other song other than the hype music was playing and you started slowly stepping side to side, wrapping your arms around his neck. Vernon planted his forehead on yours, watching the electricity spark in your eyes while the blue hues of the club engulfed you. Your lips were merely inches from each other – he could smell the spearmint gum you always chewed on your breath. Your breath hitched at the way he looked at you so intensely, yet with so much adoration. You hardly knew a thing about one another, but the way his eyes bore into yours felt as if you spent a whole century together.

Perhaps if it was possible, the sparklers in this lifetime with him would shimmer in the dark forever.

During street races, while waiting for a pair to finish their course, you always watched your surroundings out of boredom, waiting on the hood of Chan’s car with your red toolbox right beside you. When the crowd had thinned, half still at the start, the other half at the finish, everyone was always off doing their own thing to preoccupy themselves, including one another.

You didn’t like to think of yourself as “the other girl,” but felt like you were at these races. Spectators came with their faces caked with the latest Dior foundation and their lips painted with the classic shades of YSL lipstick. Your scuffed up steel-toed shoes were no match for their stilettos and thigh high boots. Not to mention, you were severely underdressed in your grease-stained jumpsuit that hung around your waist. The people here commanded attention and as suffocating as it was to you, they definitely got it.

You’ve seen them in the alleys of buildings. Their bare backs pressed up against the rough, cracked brick walls, a low-tier racer who had chosen them as prey for the night had their hands perched above their head, whispering sweet nothings into their ear before stealing kisses from their pouts. Sometimes, they would disappear into the night and not be seen until the next race, nestled in their new lover's arms.

Never in a hundred years did you think you’d find yourself in the same compromising position with Vernon, out of all people, tucked away in the dimly lit hallway of the club basement. His leather jacket was shrouded over your shoulders because you had complained about feeling cold earlier. He stood in front of you, leaning over on his forearm placed on the wall behind, chuckling as the two of you exchanged quiet words – they were nothing deep, nothing particularly sweet either, but he made your chest bubble in ways you didn’t know it could. Every time he let out that low chuckle that managed to seep through his sealed lips, his hazel eyes curving into crescents, you couldn't help but giggle in return.

Part of you hoped the vomit-green wall behind you would open up a portal and swallow you whole, unsure if your fragile heart could take all of this affection. You felt silly for being so love-drunk; it’s not like you grinded on him on the dance floor or took love shots when Chan and Mingyu urged the both of you to. Heck, Vernon hadn’t done anything more than placing his hands on your waist. Yet here you were, giddy like a teenager holding hands with their crush for the first time.

It was embarrassing.

The other part of you wanted to stay and see where this would go. Would you ever know his life beyond the four walls of his beat-up, gray 2002 Toyota Celica? Neither of you were drunk and you were both well-aware of your decisions tonight, though perhaps blind to the consequences to come. It was never said, but you knew you both were curious about this, whatever it was between the two of you. The light teases, the off-beat slow dance to the fast-paced song, the shared giggles for no reason whenever you caught one another’s eyes, the stupid stories made up while people-watching, this cliche moment right now – selfishly, you wanted it all.

“This is a stupid question,” Vernon mumbled, he fiddled with the zipper of his leather jacket, flipping it up and down in hopes of the cool metal would calm his nerves. His eyes flickered back up to you. “But, um,” he let out a breathy chortle. His expression didn’t quite match his laugh though – he looked rather confused as he squeezed his eyes shut momentarily, furrowing his eyebrows together. “Can I . . . can I kiss you?”

Unconsciously, you drew your lips in between your teeth and peered up at him innocently, heat coloring your cheeks. The cold seeping through the basement window behind you was not enough to cool your hot skin. All you could hear was your own blood rushing in your ears and suddenly, he seemed like he was too far from you - you were scared.

Pressing his lips into a tightline he shook his head in embarrassment. “It’s too soon – I shouldn’t have, sorry,” he pushed himself off the wall. He lifted his foot off the ground, ready to take a step backwards to give you space.

Before you could stop yourself, your hand shot out and grabbed onto the front of his black t-shirt to stop him from moving away. You took him by surprise at your eagerness, noting the way you tugged at the fabric, not caring that you were stretching out the cotton.

“Um,” he hummed as he settled back into his position close to you.

“You can,” you finally answered his question breathlessly.

He nodded once and planted his palms on either side of your face, letting out a sigh of relief. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeated after him.

Your heart was beating out of control at this point. If you were to faint in his arms right here, you wouldn’t be surprised. You stared at him, eyes wide, your gaze lingered across the sharps and curves of his features, noting every lash to the divots of his acne scars on his cheeks from puberty to the slight bump in his nose bridge. Your eyes finally landed on his pink lips, now glossy after he’d swipe his tongue over it.

“Um . . .” you hesitated, when he hadn’t made a move yet. Were you doing something wrong?

“S-sorry, I just don’t usually do these kinds of things,” Vernon stumbled.

You let out an equally nervous chuckle, “Same.”

“I just,” he dipped his head in to move closer, the tip of his nose bumping ever so slightly into yours, “Go for it,” he inhaled deeply, “Right?”

You blinked a few times, finally opting to let your lids fall shut and inhaled just as deeply. “Right.”

“Okay,” you heard him mumble. He must’ve moved in even closer now as you could feel the vibration of his words against your skin. You could feel the tickle of his lips grazing against yours, the slightest hesitation in his breathing to move in and seal the kiss. Contrary to your own, his eyes were still peeled open, looking for any signs of uncertainty and that you didn’t want this anymore. The last thing he wanted to do was to make you feel uncomfortable. Fortunately, he found that you seemed rather impatient for this kiss to happen. He noted the way your shoulders were stiff, hands squeezed by your side and your fists balled up in anticipation. There was a small droop in the space between your brows as you squeezed your eyes shut tighter.

“Cute,” was the last word you heard him say before he pressed his lips against yours.

It was no longer the sensation of sparklers that shone in the dark in the visions behind your closed eyelids and tingled up and down your skin, but rather fireworks. There was a zap in your lips, satisfied but hungry for more. Though his thumbs gently brushed against your cheeks, each touch felt like 100 joules electrifying your skin. It burned, but it was euphoric.

However, with every evening of celebratory fireworks, came a hazy morning filled with residual smoke.

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