ACCELERATE.

roh gaeul. twenty six. driver.

[349mph]

ryujcngsuk​:

(...)

“we were out a while ago, you see– i promise, not doing anything bad. this gangster saw the two of us and mistook me for someone, i’m not sure who. but he tried to start something with us, and miss gaeul jumped in and protected me. i suspect her strong values come from being raised by such kind people,” jongsuk says sweetly, casting a fond smile in gaeul’s direction. but his gaze is teasing. at least the one good thing that comes out of this is being able to embarrass the hell out of gaeul. 

“gaeul is an unfortunate victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. as for her staying out late… that’s my doing. i’m a bit of a night owl,” he laughs sheepishly. “i promise you, she’s pretty much always with me.” he throws an arm around gaeul’s shoulders, drawing her in closer to him. “don’t worry, i can keep this wild one in line.” he winks at gaeul’s parents. the fact that they trust jongsuk with their daughter is ill advised, jongsuk thinks, but at least he’s able to lie for her like this. he just wishes she’d be a little more careful. 

how does he do it? jongsuk lies through his teeth and her smile is wonderingly amazed, transparently disbelieving. the smile she gets in return reaches his eyes in a way that isn’t as sugar-sweet as it ought to be. hastily, gaeul tips her head to the side to drink out of her flute, hiding her expression before she ruins all his efforts. the male spins a hero’s tale out of what is anything but to her parents, somehow charming them despite the ( untruthful ) admission that he’s the reason for her late nights.

an arm around her shoulders pulls her further from her parents and closer to him, where she can smell hints of the wine he’s likely been indulging in to get through this horrible function. him and her both, to be fair. still, he’s outwardly perfectly poised and reasonable from where her parents are standing. they aren’t completely convinced but faced with jongsuk’s guileless explanation, they’ve been somewhat placated at least. if only they knew what he got up to; they wouldn’t be trusting him to keep her in line if they knew, she thinks petulantly, he’s just better at covering his ass.

“well, if that’s the case, i suppose it can’t be helped,” her father grumps, a little puffed up over jongsuk’s previous compliment but not willing to let them see it yet. he’ll probably boast about it when they’re out of earshot. her mother’s equally eager to hand her off to jongsuk now that he’s handwaved all their concerns away, which is equal parts an insult and a relief. “why don’t you two...” she gestures towards their gardens, intention clear to all four present.

gaeul doesn’t hide her eyeroll, but she’s as eager to get out the stuffy hall as her parents are to return to it. “oh, of course,” she says, voice pitched too-high in a mockery of the polished cadence everyone else adopts. her parents’ smiles waver. “keep me company? in line?” she directs to jongsuk, irony in her words taking on a conspiratorial edge between the two of them. she takes him out of the room before her parents’ smiles can fall off completely, swiping a bottle on their way out and handing it over to him.

[349mph]

cycnide​:

(...)         feet  hitting  the  marble  flooring  in  steady  succession,  gene  bolts  towards  the  entrance,  a  tail  of  her  target’s  security  detail  trailing  behind  her.  they  were  mystified  as  to  how  she  got  into  the  mansion  unnoticed,  how  even  the  dogs  didn’t  stir  at  her  arrival.  she  breaks  through  the  threshold,  heart  beating  in  her  chest  to  an  unholy  war  song.  she’s  fast,  her  svelte  figure  forged  from  what  is  Icarian  to  tear  through  space.  she  clears  the  gates  in  seconds  where  a  car  screeches  to  a  halt  in  front  of  her.  plush  lips  flush  with  crimson  lipstick  lace  into  a  smile  as  she  opens  the  door  and  gets  in.  ❛  perfect  timing,  ma  chérie.  ❜  she  remarks  as  they  speed  away,  throwing  a  wink  in  gaeul’s  direction.  they  had  been  on  many  a  mission  together,  not  once  had  gene  ever  tasted  disappointment.  gaeul  always  delivered.  ❛  i’m  about  to  destroy  this  man’s  career,  teaches  him  for  making  a  deal  with  devils.  ❜  with  a  coy  smirk,  gene  fishes  for  a  usb  stick  in  her  pocket.  ❛  didn’t  anyone  teach  him  that  there’s  no  honour  among  thieves  ?  ❜

her fingers tap, tap, tap a soft rhythm into plush leather; this isn’t the sort of ride that she’d bring to a race, but it certainly is lush. the engine is soft and butter-smooth but still powerful. fitting, for the girl she’s working with. gene is precise to the second, gaeul only needing that well-timed burst of speed to pick her up and then she’s off, foot jammed on the pedal. there’s a mess behind them as their target’s armed security scatters and regroups in a vain attempt to give chase, splitting off into two clunky vehicles that she can lose easily, no sweat.

the french endearment sits pretty on gene’s lips and heady on hers. “of course,” she replies, cocky and pleased. if she’s honest, she doesn’t understand a thing about what the other girl has got planned — none of this makes too much sense to gaeul. she skirts the fringes of the grim, speeds past before she can think about it. it doesn’t take away from the thrill of anything, and that’s all she needs from the grim. or gene, really; the other girl is inextricably tied to almost all of her jobs, seeking her out as much as she’s sought.

one hand on the wheel, the other takes gene’s hand and slides the usb back into her pocket, hand resting on the younger girl’s thigh for a too-long moment before pulling back to the gear shift. “hold on,” she promises, lips curling into a grin as they round the corner into a cross junction. gaeul steps on it just as the lights change, slipping past the oncoming traffic. one of the cars chasing isn’t as deft and immediately smashes into another vehicle, trying to imitate her; the other one is veers off into an alleyway, clearly intending to cut her off at the next junction. she’ll have to watch out for them. they slow into a cruise to blend in and gaeul laughs, giddy and light. “three minutes— that’s a record for us, isn’t it?”

[349mph]

jjunoma​:

(...)

the scent of burnt rubber hangs around them, and the metallic scent of blood is unmistakable. he kneels on the ground next to the driver - a young woman, covered in her own blood. a streak of it lines her cheek. “my name is juno ma, i’m a doctor,” he says easily - though it’s not necessarily the truth. but the first thing he learned was to introduce himself in an emergency. she doesn’t necessarily need to know that she’s in the hands of a hapless intern. 

“what’s your name?” his voice holds urgency. he needs to get her talking, mainly so he doesn’t freak out. “i’m going to get you to the hospital, okay?” his hand reaches for hers, and he places his pointer and middle fingers on her wrist. a pulse, strong and stubborn, pounds under her skin. what a night this is going to be. 

the shock is starting to set in like a thick weight, dulling everything. or it’s her complete dissociation from her soon-to-be death. someone approaches her and gaeul can’t even muster up any relief, just vague dissatisfaction that this isn’t more dramatic, given the situation.

“dunno me?” she asks, a completely useless response to his question. she’d be kind of offended if he wasn’t standing in the wreckage of her pride. plus, her words are processed through a layer of cotton — either she’s lost her hearing or her speech, and she can’t really tell which one it is, which seems like a more pressing problem. “eh, s’better, don’...” gaeul huffs. it comes out as a shudder, lungs rattling against her ribcage in some attempt to escape their confines, setting off a mutiny of pain throughout her body. ow. “‘m gaeul,” she says, when it feels like all her major organs are back in place. she’d grimace in embarrassment at the very mortifying admission of her identity, but the one from the pain isn’t going away yet.

he mentions the hospital and she can imagine, in clear detail, her parents’ reactions. will it matter if she’s dead? “‘kay,” she agrees, any fucks she’d had long since snapped off. the single syllable bubbles wetly out of her; that might be the blood. pain scorches up her forearm when he tilts her hand just a fraction to take her pulse and gaeul hisses.

on pure stupid instinct she pulls her hand back from him and rakes it through broken glass, and now the pain is really at the forefront of everything. it’s as if that kicks her back into her body, overwhelming with the sheer intensity. she’s pretty sure she’s not dying now, as much as her pride would prefer it; she hurts in a way that’s too fucking alive for anything else. “‘kay, juno ma. what do we—” fuck, words suck so much more now that she can feel her body “—do now?”

[349mph]

racing past @aeunjae !

gaeul crushes through the slipshod alleyways of the industrial area, three minutes to the promised pick up time. she could probably make it under two, but it’s not really a chase if she has too much of a head start. she’d already passed the poorly disguised cop vehicles many blocks back, and she likes to give her opponents a fighting chance. eunjae probably wouldn’t appreciate it, but she’s the driver he called on, so it’s not like he isn’t familiar with her recklessness.

the car veers off into a sharp left and coasts by on that momentum for a couple of seconds before it starts to flag, and she steps on the pedal to keep her speed up. almost there. he’s on the edges of the industrial development, where the roads are hastily put together placeholders for a bigger project, unpolished and slippery even with winter tracks. it’s almost scenic, midafternoon sky starting to cool over the rustic snapshot of seoul before development inevitably catches up with it. there’s no life to be found but her car gliding through — ironic, knowing what she’s here for.

she swings parallel against the nondescript location eunjae had sent her and comes to a silent stop, trunk unlocking with a quiet click immediately. “coming to me in your time of need?” she cocks a shoulder at the older guy, exaggeratedly coquettish. “you really know how to make a girl feel special!” 

[349mph]

racing past @ryujcngsuk !

gaeul looks the part of the perfect debutante, dress elegant and still youthful, hair done in an updo that wouldn’t look out of place in a fashion magazine. or — she would, if she wasn’t rebelliously slouched in a corner of the hall. it’s a social function for someone or other her parents work with, and she can hear the tittering of social niceties passed back and forth endlessly. the cardinal sin of boredom looms over her like a depressing raincloud, but there must be something palpable about her mood that wards everyone off from infecting her with the inane fluff of such gatherings, at least.

what she counts as a blessing is a black mark on her parents’ otherwise spotless reputation, the wastrel daughter who’s made nothing of herself. there’s a scar courtesy of her most recent accident peeking out from under the long sleeves of her dress, not quite able to hide it. someone gasps when they notice, grabbing their friend to gesture far too obviously, because high society places gossip right above social etiquette. gaeul just winks at the girls, roguish and pleased; her parents blanch.

“roh gaeul!” is what her father starts with, while her mother makes coy non-sequiturs and drags the both of them off to the side. “how did this even happen?” two fingers lift up the lace of her sleeve to check, like the scarring might be contagious. her mother worries her fingers over the edge of the sleeve. “it’s the sort of people you’ve been seeing, isn’t it?”

her father’s anger deflates in the face of his wife’s upset, and he sighs. “you’re throwing away our family’s face like this,” he mutters, but his words lack the heat, just as they always have. this clearly isn’t a new concern, but gaeul’s always managed to slip away before they could confront her about it; they’ve chosen a good place to bring it up, she supposes. no escape route in sight.

“do you need,” a sensitive, sucked in breath, “help to deal with... anything? at all?” the genuine concern in her parents’ eyes prick at her conscience, prodding at her to divulge something that could explain her behaviour for the past year. “you have to tell us,” her mum pleads, “you’re always out late and oh, all these injuries...” she’s wringing her hands, worries for her child overtaking the shame of having this conversation in public.

guilt wells up before she can stop it, but she knows she can’t give a flimsy excuse that won’t be torn to shreds. she’s panicking. “wait!” gaeul grabs her saviour, her diversion, her escape route from the parental fucking inquisition of 2020 by the arm and drags him in front of her. “jongsuk! uh,” all thought is escaping her, “we’ve been... hanging out...?” her eyes are pleading but her manicured nails demand, digging shallowly into his bicep. 

[349mph]

racing past @xcrimina !

her job description should have come with a disclaimer: half of what she gets to do is wait around for the real action to be done. gaeul is perched against the hood of the car, texting her latest flight of fancy to keep herself occupied. it’s not like her boss really gives a shit about what she does in her downtime, as long as she gets them to where they need to be — and she’s definitely got that covered.

everything else? she hasn’t got a clue. it feels counterintuitive that her boss needs to meet with young knives, but something’s going on there. she should really be on standby for a quick getaway if things go south, but where’s the fun in that?

“mina!” she pushes off the side of the car, dropping her phone into her pocket. “ugh, i’m bored.” gaeul loops her arm around the taller woman and tugs her over. the other isn’t officially affiliated with young knives, and maybe her boss is closing an eye to their interactions. or not, she doesn’t really care. mina is fun, prickly and inexplicably soft, a grab bag of traits that shouldn’t make sense and keep her on her toes.

“wanna go for a spin?” her face scrunches up, considering, then smooths out into a grin. “bet i can loop twice around before they finish posturing.”

[349mph]

racing past @jjunoma​ !

there’s a split second before the impact where it feels like a freeze frame, suspended in the gravity of shitty choices and the nebulous unfulfillment she’s never managed to figure out. it had made sense ( a calculated decision, albeit from someone who’s never progressed past basic math ), a move meant to give her the edge over anyone trying to overtake her in a race. quite literally, too, but she’d drifted into too sharp an angle that sent her crunching over her imaginary competitor and into a tailspin. into a concrete pillar.

pause. play.

the smell of rubber burnt into the road is acrid, softened by the sweet copper around her. winter cold seeps through the tarmac despite the heat from her rounds and chills her bones. the glass of the overturned vehicle refracts light out, bleeding red and chrome into the atmosphere. it’s shockingly easy to dissociate from the fear screaming in the back of her skull.

gaeul turns her head and tries to spit out the blood coating the inside of her mouth. it doesn’t work very well, dribbles off the side of her cheek but she doesn’t have the strength to lift her hand to wipe it off. she aches, bone deep. if she’s got any bones left to speak of. god. fuck. there’s a veneer of embarrassment drowning out her starkly painful mortality, ringing sharp in her ears. is it a blessing that no one’s around to see this? she groans, stretched out on the ground like a paper doll.

don’t mind her, she’ll just be here for a little while more.

just a while more.

[349mph]

—— ♡  hello !! i’m nini ( s/h, 21+ ) with very little prepared bc i’m channeling our girl gaeul ( live fast die young ) seoul’s reigning street racing queen & less known driver for the grim !! you can find her stats here but she’s a pretty new muse — development in progress — so under the cut is a sketch of her background, personality & a couple of plot ideas !! if you’d like to plot, just like this post & i’ll drop an im asap ♡

one.

seoul city girl, born & bred. lived that middle class, bored af lifestyle, coasting on her parents’ okay finances & her pretty face ( think veronica sawyer from heathers )

it was a shitty ex who got her into street racing — specifically, she started bc she jacked his ride after he cheated on her. i mean, what else is a girl meant to do with her broken heart ?

this was at age 17 though, so she absolutely wrecked his shit after (1) round. rip car, but that was her first taste of exhilaration & she’s never looked back since

an older street racer who was a perpetual third took her under his wing — everyone was so focused on the rivalry between 1st & 2nd that no one noticed her mentor training her as his apprentice / successor, teaching her the ins & outs of drifting and car mods

she quickly cemented herself as a force to be reckoned with in underground street racing circles & got noticed by a couple of gangs whose territories hosted those racing competitions

she’s more known for her reckless, out of the box technique in races to the public which have caused more than a couple of accidents. not her fault, she maintains, that’s just underground racing for ya !! ( wrong, definitely her fault )

less known is the fact that she’s currently working for the grim as their driver. she just got out of her probation period & has way more freedom ( finally !! ) plus, the promotion means she gets to do fun stuff like drive the grim’s leader around

two.

hot mess & kind of a dumbass. girls just wanna have fun !! also she used all the tuition money to fund her #party #racergirl lifestyle instead of going to college so she really doesn’t have a single thought in her head

very emotionally open, but her moods change so fast you get whiplash being around her. her heart is on her sleeve but you gotta catch it first

the exact opposite of manipulative, she just brute forces her way into what she wants. kind of intense in that way, but she’s really only that driven about her racing & maybe the grim

very loyal, to the point of possessive / dependent. if she decides you’re hers, you’re hers. ( warning: she’ll run you over if you try to leave )

constantly in search of something exciting, an adrenaline junkie. her attention is easily gotten with the promise of anything thrilling but just as easily lost once she doesn’t find it fun anymore

unreasonably competitive & kind of a sore loser. she’ll demand rematch upon rematch until she beats you & gloat about it forever

three.

( the grim )  the person she works closest with, often as their getaway driver. dynamic to be plotted !!

( non grim )  someone who realises her potential as the driver of a rival gang, always present but never noticed, & wants to make use of that

( anyone )  her pride gets as busted as her face does when she tailspins into a concrete pillar trying to test out a new trick. kinda sucks that this person’s around to see it, because it saves her life but not her pride.

( preferably the grim )  quintessential ride or die, but one-sided. someone who knows what makes her tick & how to make use of that for themselves. she knows it, but as long as they don’t leave her, she’s okay with it. is she ?

( from seoul )  actual ride or die who’s known her before all of this started. her safe harbour for when she wants some sense of normalcy & sometimes her coverup with her parents. affiliations be damned, her loyalty is to them when it comes down to it.

( anyone )  someone who goes to her when they need a good spin around seoul to clear their mind, no words needed.

( preferably 23+ )  booty call for cheap thrills, someone who’ll indulge her in the dumb dangerous shit she wants to try, bonus sex included

( anyone )  someone who thinks she’s just a city girl playing with fire. maybe they want to help her get out, or they despise her for it, up to you !!

( non grim )  inexplicably they turn up on her doorstep with nowhere to go & yeah, she knows there’s rivalry or wtv but she isn’t all that loyal & there’s, y’know, someone bleeding on her floor so she’s probably supposed to help ?

( anyone )  exes who can’t seem to make a clean break. it’s time to let go, but bad habits are just hard to kick. add a layer of gang activity & it’s a recipe for disaster

[lifeinpoetry]

i should have known that something so honest / couldn’t last the greed of my mouth

Mary Lambert, from “Your New Girlfriend Is Pretty and I Hate Her,” Shame Is an Ocean I Swim Across (via lifeinpoetry)

[bittergloss]

fashion film 한소희

[beingharsh]

when sylvia plath said "I desire the things which will destroy me in the end" and sufjan stevens said "I hardly know who you are this time, and what a mess I've made of you" and jenny holzer said "protect me from what I want" and richard siken said "you try to warn him, you tell him you will want to get inside him, and ruin him, but he doesn't listen" and ocean vuong said "what this means is that I don’t know desire other than the need to be shattered & rebuilt"