#i've been trying for ages to figure out digital painting and this actually makes me feel like i'm learning something | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hueningshaped · 3 years

Text

☆ crown | xu minghao and jeon wonwoo

▰ genre: college au! / NO READER INSERT = ORIGINAL CHARACTER / drama, coming of age, romantic, angst ... so original characters and seventeen *gasp* you guessed it — a svt fanfic

▰ word count: about 2.7k

▰ a/n: interest check of a full fledged story i’ve planned but am refraining to put effort in due to possible, complete lack of reads or audience (nobody’s fault but mine). i’d love to hear your feedback! this is chapter one; please let me know if i should continue or just leave it at this LOL

▰ synopsis: jo woolim can’t juggle to save her life, and yet she is somehow managing to stay with her boyfriend: jeon wonwoo, who is possibly cheating on her (again), her strained friendships, fitting into her new school, estranged family, learning to wholly love and forgive herself - in a time unprecedented and searching for the boy of her dreams, xu minghao, the prodigal foreign exchange student. she’s looking for real love, where it’s lacking, where it’s needed, and where it’s always been. by the way, it is not easy!

▰ additional: i listened to epilogue by justin hurtwitz as well as mia and sebastian’s theme (which is somewhat a reprise of it despite it being previous to epilogue, of course) as i wrote it so here u go!

Jo Woolim's feet hurt for multiple reasons, but getting stood up, time and time again, to now, at the age of twenty three is the main contribution to the pain.

The stairs are a pretty humiliating choice of seating, especially to conduct her double digit calls to the person who stood her up, which is her harmless best friend, Sookyung. So, no hard feelings, right? (Right?)

She shouldn't even be that embarrassed because it's not Wonwoo — the Jeon Wonwoo, her very own boyfriend — that stood her up, but she supposes she can be since he'd refused to go and even teased her about wanting to go.

The staircase is fine marble, allowing each footstep to click and clack with each heel that ascends because the party's just beginning. With this venue mimicking a palace, Woolim feels way out of place. Some girls have poofy dresses and others possess thinner material, accentuating the hills of each girl's curves and edges walking in. The boys are all the same, offering the bare minimum. Why does everyone get to be beautiful except her?

Shaking the last thought off, Woolim exerts so much effort to make it look like being alone and ugly doesn't bother her. But, she has to bite the bullet and make a move.

So, her legs spring up, taking her up to the rest of the party. She ignores the heat accumulating from the small of her back to just about every part of her body as she walks in, trying to take everything in and not look like such a loser. Jesus, is everyone looking at her? Are they talking about her?

There were definitely perks to this new university and one of them is the commencement of her class, which arrives in the form of a ceremony with a festivity that follows immediately after. Of course, as a transfer, she gets the initiation that throws a theme, so she has to wear the clown paint and clothes that they inform you to wear to match.

All she is missing is a crown and she's a royal fool.

The Masquerade Ball, as the provost and student affairs staff, had been rumored since before she'd even transferred to the school, which added up to just two months ago. Three months before, she had received that acceptance letter.

She should've known.

Woolim stifles a cough, hoping that the callousing - painful callousing - in her soles due to her starchy dress shoes would be able to mask the humiliation that was beginning to sting behind her eyes.

Of course, she had no identity, but everyone still looks over at her in pity.

The room offered dim lighting, romantic hues of pinks, and citrusy chardonnay beading the adjacent walls. Woolim thirsts for an exit.

The song changes to something unattainable audibly but she must not even be able to hear herself, and before she knows, someone to the side of Woolim bumps into her, back slamming against her body and into the wall.

A frantic, male voice follows, yelping out apologies, as he reaches down to pull her up.

"Jesus, I'm so sorry. Told him to not try and shake what his mama gave him and here we are, here you are, we're both so sorry..." Woolim's vision focuses as she returns to eye level and manages a minor grin at the boy as much of his appearance stands out wonderfully.

With heavily dyed platinum hair, a turquoise suit with rhinestones in various floral designs across the front and wrists, tiger eyes, and led lights curling around the outline of his mask, this boy looked like a lot of fun. A head of chestnut locks remain bowed by his shoulder.

The blond grabs her palm desperately, and he's making wailing sounds.

"I apologize for not only Seokmin but for his upbringing. May Satan guide him in return." He prayed aloud, apology too comical to be real but nonetheless real.

Woolim finally speaks up when the music quiets down just a touch and she doesn't have to stammer to be heard.

"No, you're fine! I can't really see with this mask." She reveals, voice too out there for its own good, but at this, the boy's eyes expand in shock and the bowed head lifts up with intrigue.

"Are you sure? It was pretty rude of us, wasn't it, Seokmin?" He nudges his friend, who's dressed in a simpler, humbler suit, who nods sullenly.

"I'm really, really embarrassed... besides, I think she gets it, Soonyoung."

"Whatever, Oprah singer."

"It's opera!"

The air around them hardens as they begin to bicker. Seokmin places his hands on his hips to deliver his rebuttals but the last thing that Woolim wants is to make two friends fight, let alone cause trouble while she has no date.

"I really am alright! No harm done. I'm just...a little relieved actually that someone's speaking to me," she admits wincingly. There's no need to be as honest as possible, but that doesn't stop her from adding, "I didn't come to the ball with anyone."

The two boys frown and coo, letting out maple syrupy aw's, surprisingly sympathizing with her.

"If it makes you feel any better, our dates were too busy to come, so he and I came together. We also do have another buddy with us, officially making it a threesome!" Soonyoung chats loudly and Seokmin elbows him in the chest at the last comment.

"That's not what a threesome is, Soon."

"Whatever," he waves his hand dismissively. Woolim notices that despite the gravity between the two friends, they remain focused on her. It feels nice. "We did lose him a little while ago though. Maybe he's around here somewhere."

Woolim then levels with them to form a line so she could follow their eye as they peer around the venue, which seems futile since their view is obscured by the angle, decorations, and crowds. The opaque curtains of the many entrances within the main venue gave the illusion that this place was endless. It feels like a trance that went on forever. Reality washes over Woolim and she can feel the weight of being the person one meets and should leave.

"Uh...I'm sorry for getting in your guys' way initially," she announces with a tone that makes her seem unsure of the words on her tongue. Seokmin rolls his head over at her, eyebrows drawing inwardly and puppy dog eyes. She's about to coolly and casually make her leave to no longer bother the boys, but Soonyoung has a different idea.

"Nonsense! It was our fault to begin with, and to repay your gracious hand," Soonyoung then motions to Woolim's bare hand as the other apparels one silky dress glove. "We're trying to at least become an even foursome with you and our friend! God knows where the hell the great Minghao is though!"

"Right behind you." A chilling, oolonged voice speaks up suddenly and startled enough, Woolim's disposition remains unaffected despite her heart catching up to leap in her chest with her delayed reaction.

"Minghao, you wanted to give me a heart attack, didn't you?" Seokmin sighs dramatically, voice hitching to imitate crying. Upon hearing the rich laugh, Woolim tips her head slowly and changes her footing to turn round.

The supposed Minghao peers down at Woolim, unreadable expression through the simple glow of his ivory mask. His raven black hair, lengthy and healthy, adorns his crown like he deserves a throne to come with the apparel.

"We found a person and we found you!" Soonyoung hesitantly wraps his hand around Woolim's wrist, loosely keeping his fingers around to lift and wave.

Minghao snickers delicately.

"I found you actually," he corrects, eyeing his friends, even meeting Woolim's to speak. "And I'm sure you didn't meet because of an accident, right?"

"That was on my part," Woolim speaks up but bites on her bottom lip once his piercing gaze trains upon her. "Sorry..."

"You’ve done no wrong, though?" Minghao's lips stretches into a wonderful smile.

" — yeah, it was Seokmin." Soonyoung mutters, earning himself a tiny shove.

"Minghao, you didn't come here with anyone for a date, right?" Seokmin poses. Woolim notices from his accent that Korean is not his first language but has such a grip with his words, it almost passes one's mind initially.

"Not this time," he answers nebulously. Woolim has to hold back a scowl. "If you’d like, I would love to have you... er, and what's your name?"

She can feel Soonyoung's and Seokmin's excited watch upon her but since this is the first night that she's seen boys be so decent, she figures she might, as well, make their night. They certainly have made hers, after all, excluding this Minghao at the moment.

"I'm Woolim. W-Woolim," she says twice, one too many. Minghao's expression loosens with pleasant awe.

"No surname?" He quizzes, voice too serious for it to be a joke. Woolim feels absolutely no urge to joke around, anxiety fizzing in the very marrow of her bones, so she just shakes her head and hopes he wouldn't see her cocked eyebrow.

"Well," he clears his throat. "I'm Xu Minghao. Seo Myungho. I've got 4 names."

"I've got three," Soonyoung pipes up and everyone groans.

"Soonyoung, don't say it in front of her. That's so gross." Seokmin leans over to shake his head but eye Woolim, in the way that friends who’ve known each other for a long time do. It's a nice feeling.

The music changes, taking a turn from some pop electronica to some heavy pulse from a contemporary rhythm and blues type, and the bass rocks hard enough to shake her ribs.

Minghao locks eyes with her and beams charmingly. He even takes her surprise further by reaching a hand out, fingers long and elegant.

"Would you care to dance with me? Or do you want to take this chance to leave like you were looking for earlier?"

Woolim feels like she merely imagined him asking the last question, which leads her to consider bolting for the doors last minute. Surely, Wonwoo would be home and maybe tonight, he'd be in the mood to love her and like her.

Oh, what she'd do to be loved and liked at the same time.

"Do what you would like," his tone lightens into something sweeter like rosehip. "I don't think you should put your lovely ensemble to waste."

Woolim swallows hard at that and just when she is about to acknowledge the two excited chitters from the other two boys, Minghao takes her hand into his. A cool grip overtakes a clammy warmth. Wordlessly, they somehow sail across the linoleum floor.

All the half hidden faces that had been judging her now evaporate with the blue and green lighting, hues and keys ascending into reds and minors.

Minghao is the type to maintain eye contact and Woolim hates it.

In the back of her mind, bits and pieces of her mind offer memories of what she could see of herself in the reflections. Since Sookyung shared the same favorite color that she did, Woolim went with another: sleet blue. Thin straps hang off her thick shoulders that had a loose, lace cover across her biceps and chest. The hems are riddled with sparkles and flowers. The rest of the silk sticks to each and every edge of her body before drifting off past her chronically swollen ankles with the extra layers adding volume. Her skin appears mottled but overall amber. Her mask is ridden in silvery lace and false white gems and roses. Woolim never knew she could look lovely.

"Do you mind if I hold you close?" He leads, raising their joined hands to sway.

Woolim opens her mouth only to nod. Despite the darkness of the brown and the dim lighting, she sees that his eyes are dotted with flames of the bits of lighting around the venue. The night of his pupils burn right through her and yet she only feels sparks from him, especially once his other hand comes to gently graze her waist.

"Are you okay with this?" He sways them a little more to the right with each movement. Woolim doesn't fancy being this quiet and immobile so she moves his hand into her. His hold is gentle and electrifying as if eternities have passed since she's last been embraced as sweetly as this.

"How long have you gone to this school?" Minghao leans in to better emphasize his question.

"I just transferred, actually," she says as casually as possible since the strokes they make when they sway are becoming too grand for her to catch up.

He's incredibly quick on his feet, so much so that her eyes must drop to follow their direction. Many bodies and pairs round about the two, but they all blend in with the backdrop of the room.

"Follow my counts. One, two, three ─" He drifts into quadrants, slow enough for her to catch up but she continues to knock into his chest. "─ and four. Let's go again. You're alright, I promise. Seokmin used to firmly believe his body was not built at all for anything besides existing."

Woolim glances to the side to see Seokmin rocking his hips next to Soonyoung side to side within frequent increments. They also somehow manage to can-can despite the slow synth and phrases of the song.

"Are you always this quiet?" Minghao breathes and this question catches her off guard. Perhaps taking her breath away had been his intention and he uses this to intertwine their fingers like they're meant to be.

"I’d tell you a lie but since you don't know me, I'm going to tell you the truth; I think I like having you try and get me to talk." Woolim purses her lips tightly as soon as she finds herself smirking.

Minghao steps back, which she nearly leaps to follow, but with the gentlest pivot of his wrist, Woolim twirls like one of the toys she'd wanted all her childhood. Her chest rides past the clouds and her heart pursues, shuttling upwards.

"My goodness, you're a natural!" He comments when he swings her to one side and right back into his embrace. She's smiling.

The song is still playing, and if at all possible, it's hanging above her head precariously and it's just the two of them on the planet.

"Are you sure you don't want me to know you?" He asks once more, and this time, she sheds a few feathers of her insecurities.

The song is still as powerful enough to beat as her heart.

"You ask a lot of questions, Minghao." She manages to grin and their steps narrow to continue to tread the same space.

He peers down at her and the flames are still lit.

"I can't help it. Honestly, honestly. I want to know you truly, honestly."

His loving smile buckles under the bite into his lip. She must be lying when she sees his eyes drop to her mouth. This must be a dream.

"I'm-I'm an open book," she murmurs, captivated by his own lips, and gasps quietly when the hand on her waist is suddenly cupping her jaw. No, she is not, the more authoritative Woolim reprimands silently. But it matters not - she's not loud either.

The song is still playing. It could play for eternities.

He rubs her cheek so tenderly and it has her eyes all a twinkle without realizing.

Wonwoo is no longer a thought. Sookyung no longer crosses her mind.

It only takes a few more countless seconds of wordless confirmation before Minghao dives in to take her lips with his and something behind her rib cage blossoms. He speaks against her mouth, but she doesn't care. She doesn't care.

He continues devouring her lips for the taking and she's left speechless, breaths searching for something to hold onto in between their own mouths.

The daily lows of her life are a fleeting death as she now soars high in a fairy tale-like limelight that only pertains to the two of them. All she's missing is a crown.

Where is her crown? Her mind's whispers fade with every proceeding second. And for once, Woolim feels so good that nothing matters.

#so should i keep going....? *head in hands*#seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen hoshi #seventeen dk #seventeen the8 #seventeen angst #seventeen college au

26 notes · View notes

topconfessions · 3 years

Note

Bëÿöñçé is finally getting backlash for her Tïffånÿ ad campaign. She's wearing a huge diamond on her neck and she's the first black woman to ever wear it. Problem is, it's a fucking blood diamond, mined in South Africa in the 1800s. Now she had an entire album dedicated to being Mama Africa, black is beautiful etc. but then wear that fucking diamond on your neck which thousands of people were tortured for, lost their lives, and families completely annihilated? It's sooooo obvious that she doesn't actually mean any of the messages her 50 11 wirters write for her. And now there's an article going around that she's shocked and disappointed and only now found out that it's a blood diamond. But she also posted the fucking diamond on her IG again. Istg capitalism has rotten this womans and her husbands soul. Their only thing is to taunt how rich they are, they're no better than the average Soundcloud rapper with a stack next to his head

This is the problem with today's generation. Nobody does their research and homework on their faves. Why are we just now shocked and surprised? Beyonce has always been this person. This is why I said I believe one wax museum had was right to make her figure white passing cause Beyonce has clearly used this light skin nearly white illusion in her career consistently. They made Beyonce look the way she sees herself and projects herself to be seen from her own tastes. Anyways I heard about this and I cant repeat myself since I stated my opinion on a certain forum site and got attacked for it by a Beyonce fan for stating facts about Basquiat enthusiasts and high art industry insiders having a right to be upset that Tiffany's is using his rare painting for this Blood diamond Ad. Even if they are going to hang it up in the flag ship store, it's rotten and irritating to me personally that Basquait painting had to be paired and presented as if it's worth can't stand alone without the likeness of Bey and Jay. Now you have everyday people and fools who know nothing of this artists work or legacy chiming in going to bat for Bey when in reality Basquiat was not a commercial Artist and it's best to be assumed he would have never supported this unless he respected their rise as a black couple or music. I can't put it into words but its annoying that they are trying to take every rare opportunity and own it like it's a monumental accomplishment only they can achieve.

IDK girl I'm tired. I conveyed what I felt about this on the other site more concisely. But simply put I personally don't support it or like it. Tiffany's is beginning to struggle and wants young buyers money and hip young adult money (they always be a luxury / opulent go to, no debating that*) and are using Jay & Bey for it. Jay worked on this deal so it is what it is.

Beyonce fans are always made when it's said but for many years I've always heard and still do hear that Beyonce is uneducated and cannot articulate herself well. She's not the smartest in general minus business and music / entertainment. This is a prime and clear example of what happens when you are uneducated or aren't well traveled and aware. You agree to shit like this and learn right after what you truly signed up for. This is why I always say she will never replace Michael. He wasn't smart like her in manipulating hid privacy and image, but he was educated and actually cared about Africa before he was made a king and after in an African country. You would never catch him agreeing to something like this if he were alive today in this digital age. And if he did he would say he knew but apologize. Beyonce won't apologize. Black is King was riding the BLM wave and she jumped on it to spear head this Disney collab so she could paint a positive image and have another win.

Black community will get mad cause they want representation so badly they will stick by someone like her since she's the only one cutthroat enough to be "queen" and not actively have a rivalry career like Prince x MJ.

Bey looked beautiful but very white washed to me just something about it screamed tokenism. If she looked liked Jay they wouldn't have gotten this deal I bet on everything or at least Jay would pull the weight of the deal.

1 note · View note