#steph;para

[hgdstephanie-blog]

( suit & tie . )

@hgdguk​

Class had barely been dismissed when Stephanie was pulling her phone out, carelessly throwing her books into her bag with her free hand. After Jay’s phone call early yesterday morning, she had been wracking her brain, trying to figure out how the hell she was gonna pull off this particular request of his, and it was midway through her lecture that she’d found her solution: Jeon Jeongguk.

“You want me to buy you a suit?”  “Please.”  “And... why can’t you buy yourself a suit?”  “It’s cadaver week, Bon. I have nothing on my mind but making sure I slice open some dead man’s chest properly. Besides. You’re better at picking out clothes than I am.” 

Stephanie had tried to reason with him; a) he had plenty of suits already, b) there were bound to be other people -- people not on the other side of the world, that is -- that could find him a suit, and c) “...ceebs, dude.” Jay, however, was having none of it. The problem, frankly, was not the request to buy a suit. It was remembering his size that Stephanie was having trouble with. It’d been more than four years since she’d bought her best friend any kind of clothing, and even his most recent ugly selca was not enough indication of whether he’d shrunk or grown since the last time she’d been in New York. So she drowned out her professor’s voice in favour of listing off every male she knew in Hongdae, picturing each of them in the hopes that one of them, at least one of them, was of a similar build to Jay. 

Bless the heavens above for Jeon Jeongguk.

✉ baby hash brown → HASH BROWN!!!   ✉ baby hash brown → busy?   ✉ baby hash brown → i need your help with something  ✉ baby hash brown → meet me out the front of campus my child

[hgdstephanie-blog]

( baby got back . )

@hgdkasane​

Stephanie was standing in line, minding her own business when it happened. She could swear on her life that she hadn’t done it on purpose, but there was no denying how it’d look to a bystander. If she were to put the blame on anything, it’d be the exhaustion from three morning shifts over three consecutive days, too many five AM wake up calls just to make it in time to open up the cafe, ready for the morning rush of business men and students. 

Clearly, Stephanie hadn’t been thinking straight as she waited in line to pay for this new moisturiser she’d been recommended by one of the graduate students helping her out in one of her philosophy classes, but truthfully speaking, she was so tired, she wasn’t even sure if she’d picked up the right bottle off the shelves -- all she’d said was “it comes in a white bottle with a white pump”, and she’d taken the first one she’d seen. 

The queue had been moving slowly, and Stephanie had anticipated a bit of a wait. But as she went to stretch her arms, she had, unfortunately, underestimated the distance between her and the person in front. Next thing she knew, her hand was pressed right up against her behind. 

Mortified, Stephanie’s eyes widened as she gasped softly, realising what she’d done when the stranger began to look over her shoulder. “Oh my G-- I am so, so sorry. Oh my God. I didn’t-- I wasn’t-- oh my God.” Belatedly, she realised she hadn’t yet withdrawn her hand from the stranger’s backside, and quickly pulled it back. 

“Oh my God. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to touch your butt!”

[hgdstephanie-blog]

( lights, camera, action . )

@hgdmiharu​

Stephanie looked at Miharu with wide eyes, surprise written clearly on her face. “You want me to do what?” 

She’d never really considered herself ‘camera shy’. Stephanie wasn’t one to usually turn away from the camera, whether it be for a photo or a video, and there were enough albums and tapes back in New York to back her up on that. Having befriended a Youtuber, too, she should’ve expected something like this to happen eventually -- was that a little pretentious? -- but to actually hear it said aloud? That was on a completely different level entirely. 

“You... want me to be in one of your videos? Are you for real? Wh-- why? What do I have to offer?” Was that a little too straightforward? Stephanie hoped it wasn’t, but if it was, she would be quick to justify that she had been taken completely off-guard just now, and so her surprise should’ve been expected. She was all for helping out friends -- generosity and a helping hand make the world go ‘round, after all -- but Youtube? Youtube was a public platform. People all over the world would see her, and if she messed up, said and/or did something wrong, she ran the risk of ruining Miharu’s entire channel. 

She couldn’t have that riding on her shoulders for the rest of their friendship. No way.

“Um... I could do that. But could doesn’t mean would. I don’t even know what I’d do. And I don’t think I’d be very useful to you and your videos, Haru. I’d probably end up ruining everything anyway.”

[hgdstephanie-blog]

( to the last drop . )

@jcnahgd​

Stephanie’s not sure how she’s ended up in a bar, but she’s here nonetheless, perched up on a bar stool, legs crossed while her fingertip glides up and down the stem of her wine glass -- a Merlot, French, nineteen eighty-something. She’s never been a big fan of wine, but she’d scanned the menu, spotted a familiar label, and so here she is, drinking her mother’s favourite. 

When her first glass is empty, Stephanie watches the bartender pour her another, a river of red cascading down the edge of the glass, pooling and collecting until it is half full. She blinks slowly while her drink is poured; she’s not tired, or sleepy, just a little... subdued, not because anything was lacking, but more so because things had become a little monotonous. 

Absentmindedly, she scratches an itch on her cheek before she’s reaching out for the glass and takes a sip. Nothing fancy. There’s a faint imprint of her lips on the rim, courtesy of her lip balm, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she registers that her back is a little cold, but she makes no move to put her blazer back on. 

A chair scrapes against the hardwood floor somewhere in the distance behind her, and it is instinct that has Stephanie turning her head just a fraction towards the sound. Her eyes remain distant and void though, and soon enough she’s forgotten about it altogether; instead, her gaze begins to trace clean and crisp lines in black ink on the arm of a stranger a few seats away. 

Stephanie doesn’t realise she’s staring; she’s too focused on sharp angles, and uninterrupted curves, and the myriad of thoughts swimming around in her head like disoriented fish.

[hgdstephanie-blog]

( lady problems . )

@jbxhgd​

“Oh my God. Hell. Actual hell.” Stephanie fell into the next seat beside Jaebum, dropping her bag down on the ground and promptly bringing her knees up to her chest, a muffled groan slipping out of her. She knew he wasn’t a fan of being interrupted -- and by the looks of things, she had interrupted him, if the open textbooks and scattered pens on the desk were anything to go by -- but this was out of her control. 

Jaebum was probably... not the best person to be going to about this, but Stephanie had acted on impulse; he was the first one she had spotted, and with the amount of pain she was in, she wasn’t really about to get embarrassed about it any time soon. “This... this would not happen if I had a penis. You’re a lucky S.O.B., dude.” Wrapping her arms around her knees tighter, Stephanie brought her head backwards until she was staring at the ceiling, letting out another throaty groan. “Being a chick sucks. Like sure, we have boobs, but at what cost? This is the thanks I get for not being pregnant?!” 

If she could, Stephanie would be rolling on the floor, moaning in pain, but deeming it inappropriate to do so (at least, on the university campus anyway), she settled instead for tugging the zipper of her jacket up higher, and pulling her hood over her eyes. “Why didn’t I just stay home and skip class today?” she sighed, shutting her eyes. “Just... I’m gonna sit here and die for half an hour, okay? Continue with your studying, friend.”

[hgdstephanie-blog]

( midnight snack . )

@hgdxchorong​

Thank god for 24-hour convenience stores. Truly, Stephanie thought, they are a gift from the heavens.

“No. What? Shut up! You’re a liar!” Jay could not be blamed for the poorly-timed phonecall. Timezones were the clockblock of the century, but there was no way in hell Stephanie was going to hang up on him. “Dude, Iron Man is totally cooler than Thor. What the hell are you saying?” The English came as a free-flowing stream as her eyes scanned the shelves of energy drinks, pulling a face at the strikingly-coloured cans with words that seemed to promise something close to actual death. “In what universe is Thor better?”

With a box of instant coffee sachets in her free hand, Stephanie scoffed. “Tch. Right. The Marvel universe. Ha ha. You’re a freakin’ comedian, Jay.” She inspected the rest of the shelves, not bothering to pull her hood back up as it slipped off her head, instead making her way over to the shelves of instant ramen – yet another gift from the heavens. “Well, for one, he’s cooler than you. They both are, to be honest, but Iron Man still takes the cake. Plus, Thor wears a cape, and as one wise woman once said, ‘No capes’. Clearly he’s just asking to be sucked into a plane turbine thingy.”

Extra spicy? No thank you. Returning the scary-looking, bright-red styrofoam cup back onto the shelf, Stephanie reached for a less threatening-looking cup, barely managing to spit out “yes, I just quoted Edna Mode. She’s a goddamn genius, Jay,” before she could hear another voice – not Jay’s voice. A female voice. A loud female voice. A very loud female voice. “Hold on. Sorry excuse m–”

Stephanie stopped. She was totally ready to tell the stranger to lower their voice because excuse me, I’m engaged in a very heated debate right now, but the sound of near-perfect English suddenly caught her off-guard. She could vaguely hear Jay calling for her attention in her ear, but it was not registering in the slightest.

I have no idea who you are, but you’re speaking English in Korea and I am so lowkey-but-really-highkey intrigued right now. Hi?

[hgdstephanie-blog]

( ring my bell . )

@hgdtaehwan​

When the doorbell rings, Stephanie takes her time in getting up off her bed. It isn’t without a groan, nothing loud, but it is a groan nonetheless. She had deemed her day the Grand Disaster, but in reality, the last week was the real Grand Disaster. For the last few days, she’d been running on minimal sleep, busy taking on extra shifts at the cafe, and busy trying to get papers written. 

Stephanie deemed herself lucky to have made it out alive. So far. Heavy steps take her to her front door, and she runs a hand through her hair, still wet from the shower she’d taken ten minutes ago. She’s exhausted, completely drained, and with another Monday approaching, she’s hoping that the sun doesn’t rise anytime soon, because she’s not so sure she can take another week like the Grand Disaster. 

When Stephanie opens the door, she stares at the man in front of her, his face a little familiar, but for the moment, she’s not registering much, just... staring, eyes uncharacteristically void of anything. Barely, she recognises there’s something in his hands -- she’d ordered something earlier, but with her exhaustion, she’s completely forgotten all about it -- and even more so does she not realise that she’s standing in front of a stranger -- a male stranger -- in nothing but her bathrobe. If she were in her right mind, she’d probably be screaming.

“I feel like I’ve seen you before,” Stephanie says, without so much as a greeting; tiredness has melted away any kind of filter in her brain, and nonsense was probably sure to follow. “Have we met before?”

[hgdstephanie-blog]

( i’m like hey wassup hello . )

@hgdhyerim​

“You guys are insane. You do realise that, right?” 

If Stephanie wasn’t careful, she would’ve dropped her textbooks on her foot -- it’s happened before, and judging by her surprise, the possibility of it happening again wasn’t so far away.

“Go on, Steph. You lose the bet, you get the punishment.” 

“Wh-- how was I supposed to know that in the first place? I’m a foreigner, for God’s sake! Is this how you treat foreigners? I’m gonna speak to the president and get you guys put in a maximum security prison or something. This is some freakin’ injustice right here.” Met with nothing but laughter from her friends, Stephanie huffed, having half a mind to throw her textbooks directly at her feet (or directly at her friends’ feet). Anything to avoid having to walk over to where the stranger currently sat. 

“Do it! Do it! Do it!” her friends chanted, fists pumping in the air between them as they donned equally cheeky grins on each of their faces, grins that Stephanie wanted to slap away into the next century. 

“I hate you all,” she groaned, dragging her hand down the side of her face. “If I wanted this kind of treatment, I would’ve stayed in New York. Hold this.” Roughly, she shoved her textbooks into the arms of the closest person, before turning on her heels and heaving a deep sigh. A bet was a bet, and as much as she hated to admit it, Stephanie had lost, fair and square. 

With heavy steps, she made her way over to where the girl sat, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, eyes focused on something other than Stephanie -- obviously. She felt fingertips prod at her shoulder, hushed snickering surrounding her as she stumbled forward, and she resisted the urge to turn and punch the lights out of her friends -- or at least give ‘em the finger. 

When she was just inches away from the stranger, Stephanie took a deep breath, trying to muster up enough energy to at least act like she wasn’t screaming internally. She cleared her throat, lifting the corners of her lips into some kind of smile, waiting for the stranger’s attention.  

“Love is the jelly to sunshine’s peanut butter. And if I tell you that I’m in sandwich with you, I’m not just saying it to get in your Ziploc bag.”