Tyler had noticed you straight away when you entered the library. A small smile formed on his face as he took hold of his camera-an instinctive action that was always his immediate response when he saw you.
His eyes followed you as you head straight to the shelves of books, knowing exactly what you wanted. Tyler lifted his camera as you stop in the middle of an aisle and focus your attention on the books.
Ever so slowly, he zoomed in slightly and hovered his finger over the button on his camera-waiting for the perfect moment. You appeared to have found what you were looking for and a small triumphant grin filled your face.
He snapped the picture quickly before he lost the scene.
Your father is the boss of the mafia organisation “Amphisbaena”. Among the members of the organisation are six young men your father rescued as orphans. One day, your father is murdered, leaving behind the order to “protect his daughter”. When the battle for leadership of the organisation escalates, a dangerous 48 hours begins…
Because Milkshakes Taste Better When They’re On Your Lips
“The last time you kissed me and I tried to bring it up, and you treated me like shit. Why is now any different?”
Dan shoved Phil by the shoulders into the wall again, and growled in his ear.
“Because I can’t stay away from you, Phil Lester.”
Summary: Phil is sick of being bullied relentlessly by Dan Howell for the past few weeks, but there’s more to their story than meets the eye. i just had to go write a high school au at some point didn’t I? :)
[If you have any specific requests or questions, you can submit them here] Here’s the masterlist for more imagines and scenarios/reactions. enjoy :)
You were a trainee at JYP Entertainment for about 9 months now, but have been training for about 2 years. You’d taken an interest in your sunbaes, GOT7 a while ago when they first debuted and followed them closely. It was an honor for you to be training under them at JYP. You’d become close with them and they guided you in your path to hopefully debuting soon. Mark had particularly taken an interest in you, helping you study English to make you a good asset to the group you were meant to debut with. Jinyoung helped you with your dancing and the boys all supported you very much in your journey. Just as Mark had taken interest in you, you took an interest in him. You also took an interest in Jackson.
Jackson would always encourage you to keep going and work hard whenever you didn’t do as well as you hoped on your monthly evaluation. He’d help you in whatever areas you needed and would always make you laugh and smile with his hyena laugh and charm. Mark would always make sure you had whatever you needed almost like a boyfriend, but of course, you thought, he’d never date me so that’s crazy. You didn’t confess your feelings to either of them in fear of rejection but you wanted to. You like Mark a little bit more, romantically, than Jackson, but you’d be happy dating either of them. It was very unlikely though because you were busy training and, yes, appreciated the help they gave you, but it was very hard to maintain a relationship while being an idol.
One day while practicing English with Mark, he was teaching you phrases that had to do with relationships and how to describe physical traits telling you that you’ll be asked many questions about your ideal type and past relationships and things. You practiced words for love, and boyfriend and such. He asked you to say “I like you,” but when mispronounced like and said “lick” instead he laughed and helped you correct yourself. He asked you to say “Would you like to date?” You pronounced it flawlessly but didn’t know what it meant. After he translated it for you, he looked away from you. “Mark do you really want to date me?” you asked. He nodded still not looking at you, embarrassed. “M-mark I have to decline.” His head shot up. “I think I like someone else, I’m sorry.” He didn’t say anything and just shot you a forced smile and left. That someone else being Jackson. You didn’t know if you really liked Jackson but you didn’t want to take the risk of dating Mark and having feelings for someone else.
The next day, you and Jackson were going over the comments the judges at your evaluation made to help you improve. One thing they said you needed work on was your vocalization, changing between English and Korean and breathing when rapping. Jackson made you rap BTS’s Cypher Part 2. It was perfect for improving breathing because of Rap Monster’s verse with many English lines and Suga’s fast rap at the end requiring you to take enough breath to last the whole thing. You’d gone through not even the first line of the English and he stopped to correct you some, asking you to use better diction and showed you how to pronounce each syllable. You finally completed the whole song perfectly and you were finished. You had a talk with him after your lesson. “Thank you so much for helping me.”
“Of course, Y/N. I want you to do your best so you can debut. Are you hungry? Oppa will buy you food,” he said with a smile. You walked out of your practice room and walked past Mark “Mark hyung, do you want to come get some food with us?” Mark looked at you and then looked back at Jackson and said, no. “I’ll bring you something back, then.” Jackson and Mark exchanged smiles. You didn’t know if Mark was upset with you or just wanted to avoid awkward confrontation, but you were a bit relieved he declined Jackson’s invitation. You and Jackson quickly stopped by McDonald’s because you explained how you had to get back to practicing soon. You got something healthy, as healthy as McDonald’s could be.
A week past since Mark confessed to you, and he hadn’t said a word to you since. He usually scheduled time to help you with your English but he didn’t. He hadn’t even tried to contact you for anything. You had to get Jackson to help you, which wasn’t a problem, but you really liked learning with Mark because it had become a natural thing between you two. With Jackson, it was fun, but all you could think is that Mark was upset with you. You couldn’t focus entirely on your lesson. “What’s wrong with you today? You aren’t focused,” Jackson asked.
“It’s just…” You hesitated to answer him but he persisted to ask you. “Mark confessed to me and I said no… Now he won’t even look and I think he’s upset with me.”
“Of course he’s upset, just not with you. Everyone in the world could tell Mark is crazy about you. He never shuts up about teaching you English. I noticed lately he hadn’t been talking about you too. Why’d you say no?”
“I think I have feelings for someone else and I didn’t want to date hima nd have feelings for him and someone else.”
“That’s a good reason. Well, why don’t you just tell who ever it is?” You profusely shook your head, no. “Why?”
“Because it’s too weird if I do.”
“Go talk to Mark. I’ll be here if you need me.” You went out of the room. Jackson always helped you things like an older brother. You finally found out what those feelings were for him. It was more like sisterly-brotherly love than romantically. You could finally confess to Mark, but still was scared beyond belief.
You searched for him and finally found him in a studio room with JYP. You looked into the window and once your realized it was an important meeting, you quickly scurried away. They must’ve heard your foot steps because they came out and scoped the area until they saw you walking away when JYP called out to you. “Come here,” he said a gentle yet forceful. “Where you going?”
“To practice, sir.” Mark saw how timid you were and frowned a bit worried.
“Rap for me.” You eyes widened. Mark’s did too, he knew the reviews you’d gotten from your evaluation and worried for you. You looked down and took a deep breath before rapping Suga’s verse in Cypher Part 2 just as you and Jackson practiced. It was flawless. “It seems to me you’re ready to debut,” he joked. “One thing though, next time have something that you wrote prepared for me.” He walked away as you fell to your knees in an overflow of anxiety. Mark dropped to his knees too to make sure you were okay.
“Jagiya, are you okay? Do you need some water?” he asked with his hand on your shoulder. “Look at me,” he requested pulling your chin up from your chest. You stared at him and in the moment, you pulled him in for a kiss. He was taken aback a bit but kissed you back. When you released his lips, he asked, “What about the guys you had feelings for?”
“I figured it out. They were platonic feelings, you’re the one I really like. If you still wanted to date, I’d be happy to.”
ok, but listen, luke is actually really funny and that scares me. I love him too much already, and I always thought he was too awkward to actually be funny, and every joke he told was just convenient wording, but like *grabs your face* he is ACTUALLY HILARIOUS he has been whipping out lame ass quality jokes at every interview recently and it makes me realize he is a much more than an awkward stick of bread, he is A CLEVER FUCKING DINNER ROLL, AND HE NEVER INTENDS FOR HIMSELF TO BE FUNNY, THAT’S THE WORST PART, IT’S NATURAL. HE’S NOT TRYING TO SAY A GREAT JOKE. HE’S JUST TALKING. AND IM LAUGHING LIKE A HYENA THINKING WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO? DO YOU UNDERSTAND? I CANT LOVE HIM ANYMORE. BUT I HAVE TOO. I thought I was signing up for some casual staring at a noodle, but im not prepared for this relationship to reach the level its heading towards
The cycle of everything is linear, like the universe spinning in a rhythmic pattern; it’s terrible and still all I know.
One day, dust shivers off book spines and I turn to a familiar, dog-eared page just to remember the sting of paper cuts again.
It is how I will always love and return to him: in steps, in stages, in darkness, faith, and hate.
1. In a moment of weakness or divine intervention, he answers my calls. It has been months since we last spoke, and I can’t remember the color of his eyes or the way his voice cracks when he whispers my name, but he answers. It’s harmless, meaningless, and yet it ignites a hunger within me, because it means everything. Apologies taste like candy in my mouth when I spit them out.
2. We make plans. It doesn’t always happen the way anyone else would have planned it, but a haphazard lightning bolt of inspiration always sends me spinning back to old haunts where I once felt sane. My hair is curled, my makeup perfected, my outfits slipping from my body. Tan legs grin beneath frayed shorts. We laugh like hyenas drunk on our very own existence and fall back into effortless movements I should fear… but how can I fear such a gentle hand on my thigh? How can I remember the devil behind his eyes when he smiles like such an angel?
3. We’re kissing. Never mind that these kisses are what nearly destroyed us before – like electric currents, like whole universes imploding, like firestorms and demolished foundations. We will kiss, and his lips will press against my collarbones and I will forget that he fucking left me, and that this isn’t about fucking poetry anymore, it’s about someone kissing me while knowing that a part of me probably still loves them, and can’t help it, and still feels like shards of glass remembering how it felt to be left behind.
4. The morning after, I always leave early, before dawn, when the person I “don’t” love is still asleep. I listen to his snores. I connect birthmarks like star constellations in a hand drawn map. Occasionally, my fingers will outline his sleeping frame from shoulder to hip and back again – my touch is only a faint tickle, and he will sleep still, but his eyelids will flutter, and I will wonder if he is dreaming of me, or of someone else. Someone better. Someone he didn’t leave once.
5. I try not to call so quickly, but I always do. Responses feel… do they feel stranger, or is it me who is suddenly strange, aware that I can no longer scrub myself clean of his fingerprints? Is it me drowning, or does he purposefully fall silent, whatever he wanted already pursued and conquered? In the silence, I feel myself split apart. I stare at the ceiling and count my breaths, each one meant to bring me back to earth, and I can only close my eyes and remember what it was like to be loved for one night. One night only.
6. There are no phone calls. There are no messages. There is only me, remembering what my mother told me once – “once boys get what they want, there’s nothing left for them to dream about.” So what did he want?
7. He must want the silence – the resurrection of our past paths that always seemed like his fears grew bodies. Afraid to love me, and afraid of the pain in my voice, he slips away undetected. There are no apologies. There is nothing left between us but the faint mark left behind by teeth grinding my skin, as if he has branded me. He owns me, but will not step forward to claim me. It has been like this before, and it will always be like this.
We live in patterns: wake up, eat, laugh, cry, sleep. We are broken. Our patterns spin like revolving doors.
“I missed you,” I had uttered meekly, and he took his time answering, as if contemplating what reply would destroy me the least.
It’s all I have the energy to say before he vanishes again, nothing but a ghost in my doorway.
The Seven Steps to Still Loving an Ex, Jenn Carmen