— the garden of earthly delights.

"One life is all we have and we live it as we believe in living it." — Jeanne d'Arc LEE HALLA. 17. ju jak.

[xyfxyoongi-blog]

(she appears to be around his age, maybe a little younger, but that’s a judgment yoongi makes solely based on her tiny stature and the fact that the dress she’s wearing makes her look even tinier—he looks on at the gauze-like fabric that cinches tight at her waist, amused at how it puffs suddenly into a dome until it cuts off right around her knees. yoongi is thankful he wasn’t born a girl or else he’d be dealing with this kind of fuss, too. he nods his head as she takes the seat. the leather seat groans and the girl’s face takes on a barely noticeable tinge of pink as a result—yoongi’s only more amused now, and it finally shows on his face. he breaks into a ghost of a smile.) nice to meet you. yoongi. (he says, and leans against the wall as she reveals a bag of m&m’s to him. while he isn’t the biggest fan of chocolate—much more of a traditional sweets, honey and sesame kind of guy—he appreciates the gesture. reaching into the bag, his fingers reemerge with three candies, all red.) huh, lucky. (he mumbles under his breath, inaudible. he brings his attention back to the girl, lifting his gaze.) no need to apologize, (yoongi says, his voice still a little hard around the edges. he knows what that’s like. his parents may themselves be short of words, but he’s been to enough of these conventions to know that the people who organize them are not.) i should be the one apologizing—‘cause i agree. he does talk a lot.

[yfhalla]

(`*-- halla smiles around a mouthful of chocolate--nothing toothy, because her incisors are probably painted an ugly mix of green and yellow--already reaching for another handful. while she chews and swallows, she takes the time to look around; the entire place screams class and decadence, a sight she’s not so unfamiliar with, but as often as she sees places like this, she’s never truly comfortable in them. there’s something about the uniformity, the static, the sharp edges and the unnerving cleanliness that has her feeling out-of-place and alien. weird.) i can’t even argue with that. that speech he’s saying right now? i’ve heard that so many times, i could probably say it myself. ‘1World International prides itself on its selflessness, its dedication to providing for the world all that it needs. we strive to create equality, and give everyone, young and old, a fair chance at life. why should we get to sit here, sipping on wine and dining on expensive food, when there are those struggling to feed their children on the opposite side of the world?’ (`*-- halla scrunches up her nose.) i couldn’t walk from my bedroom to the bathroom without hearing my dad’s voice coming from his study. i could recite that in my sleep. (`*-- she shakes her head, but there’s a small chuckle that slips past her lips because in a way, it is kinda funny, thinking about her dad talking to no one and pretending he was standing in front of a room full of people.) but anyway, who do you know here?

[yfhalla]

she wakes to the sound of gentle waves rolling right outside her room’s window. it’s warm, but halla has wrapped herself with the bed sheets anyway, so unexpectedly soft again her bare legs. the bed is her makeshift island, and she is but a tiny five-foot speck on the king sized mattress, but halla couldn’t feel any bigger. her muscles ache, but it’s a good ache, the kind that only running on the beach and kayaking in crystal clear waters can give. her phone is full of photos taken yesterday: some are blurry, with faces almost completely indistinguishable, but it’s a testament to the chaos of the previous day--good company equals a good time. 

halla sits at the foot of the bed and looks out the window, blinking sleepily as she waits for her brain to catch up. hawaii is as picturesque as every travel brochure makes it out to be, and she gives herself a mental pat on the back for choosing here of all places to go for her birthday. 

the small clock on the bedside table says it’s almost half past eight, and it’s time to wake everyone up. halla doesn’t feel completely awake herself, but she’s getting there, and the cool wooden floorboards beneath her bare feet do a great job at shocking her system. she makes the same rounds she did yesterday, knocking on doors to be met with half-open eyes, exaggerated yawns and bedhead. 

she’s at the last few rooms; halla raps her knuckles against yuri’s suite door, rubbing her eyes with the back of her other hand. 

“oppa? oppa, wake up! you made us late for kayaking yesterday. you better not make us late for snorkeling, because i’m not missing the turtles. i swear to god.” 

@yfmona / @yfxyuri

[yfxkihyun-deactivated20180821]

[ ... ]

“i’m fine! are you, uh–are you hurt in any way?” he questions, leaning against the wall for a small amount of support. kihyun recognizes within a few seconds that its probably a sprained wrist, and a bad one by the look of it. but it’s still protocol to make sure the student is safe first.

“don’t worry, i’m not going to tell you off. accidents happen.” 

[yfhalla]

halla can feel the dread sinking into her bones because this isn’t looking good. she can see that kihyun is holding onto his wrist, cradling it carefully to his wrist, and it occurs to her that she’s just managed to injure the school nurse. her friends are going to have a field day when they find out. there’s a brief wave of relief when he assures her that she won’t be getting in trouble, but it’s not enough to completely cancel out the guilt she’s feeling. 

“i-i’m really sorry. hold on. let me help you up.” 

it’s a great feat for a five-foot girl to help a fully-grown man back up to his feet, but somehow, she manages--quietly, she thanks the stars for giving her three older brothers with a penchant for the occasional rough-housing; funnily enough, it’s actually come in handy. 

halla brings kihyun to the nurse’s office--she certainly doesn’t fail to recognise the irony of the situation--and helps him sit down in his chair before unceremoniously dropping her backpack onto the ground in search of some supplies. 

“it’s a sprained wrist, right?” 

she frowns at the thought; it’s one thing to be patching up her brothers after they’ve fought over something stupid, but it’s another to have to do the same after hurting the school nurse. halla walks over with rolls of bandages and an ice pack, smiling sheepishly and scratching the crown of her head. she puts the bandages down to gingerly wrap the ice pack around kihyun’s wrist, ready and alert to spot any signs of discomfort.

“this is... kinda awkward, isn’t it, sir?” 

soccer practice is gonna have to wait today.

[yfhalla]

[yfmona]

kicker

[ ... ]

she doesn’t even notice that the final member of the group chat is beside her until she has the sense to look up from her screen.

“oh, halla, i didn’t see you. want some water?”

[yfhalla]

when she’s had enough of the mindless running, halla walks off to join mona at the bench, not caring if their team captain or their coach were to spot her and reprimand her slacking off. she’s barely broken into a sweat, with just a faint trace of a sheen on her forehead that’s more of a side effect of the summer heat than from the training itself. 

“ugh. remind me again why i’m still on the team. i don’t even like soccer.” 

she’s expecting a reply, and halla is surprised when she isn’t given one. but one look at mona is enough to explain why. and then a familiar name leaves her friend’s lips. halla fights the urge to scowl, and instead keeps her face blank as she takes a peek at mona’s phone screen. it’s the group chat--halla’s probably very behind (as usual)--and her interest is piqued momentarily; but it doesn’t last long because mona’s attention does eventually end up on her. 

“no, i’m alright. just needed to take a breather. i should probably get back.” 

she’s walking over to rejoin the rest of the team, and with her back towards mona, she rolls her eyes, absolutely floored by the way just one specific name said by one specific friend is enough to tick her off. halla takes one of the spare soccer balls and kicks it mindlessly a couple feet ahead of her. and then, she stops, and holds the ball still beneath her shoe. 

it’s a spur of the moment idea, that she will swear came out of nowhere if anyone asks later. halla swivels around on the heels of her feet until she’s looking at the bench again, mona’s attention back on her phone. it’s a perfect opportunity to get her revenge (for something very trivial and petty, but... details) and who would she be to not take advantage of it? and if there was ever a time for her to showcase the progress she’s made being on the soccer team, it’s now. 

what a pity it doesn’t work out. 

she’d been ready to kick, could already see the way the ball would fly in the air and accidentally collide with mona’s pretty little head. halla had been ready... but her feet had not. she cries out with surprise when the front of her shoe is caught on a patch of grass, and she’s falling forward, not having enough time to catch herself. there’s a dull throbbing in her arm--looks like it might be her wrist; she’s praying it’s her left hand--and halla groans (it’s a mixture of pain, shame and embarrassment) face down in the grass.

[xyfxyoongi-blog]

february, 2011

(it’s been a year in seoul, and he thinks rather wistfully to himself about how he’ll never get used to it, no matter how many times his mother insists on bringing him to this place, where everyone seems to be ego-tripping ad infinitum. five minutes into this convention and yoongi’s already grabbed himself three glasses of juice. he waddles over to his mother, who is sitting cross-legged with some other older, well made-up women, each boasting a lip color one shade darker than the next.) i’m going to step outside for a bit. (he says, and pivots on his heel towards the exit with his three cups, one in each hand, the other balancing precariously between. he spots a leather bench just outside the door and takes the seat at the end, placing his cups tenderly on the middle seat. just us again, he thinks. the blazer is too thick, his neck is too short, and he’d sure like for that growth spurt to hit any time now. yoongi fiddles with the scratchy wool lapels until someone’s made their presence clear and, never missing a beat, he looks up. or rather, straight ahead—she’s short.) hi. (he says, looks nonplussed.) no, go ahead. (he moves the cups from the bench to carpet floor, saving the last one, a cup with a gentle orange liquid, for the girl. he holds it up.) want?

[yfhalla]

(`*-- halla smiles and takes the freed up seat beside the boy, smoothing out some non-existent wrinkles on her dress. it’s a tad bit too tight, and a little itchy around her knees where it ends--is this really the only material that can match her brothers’ ties?--but it has pockets, and really, what more could she ask for?) oh. thanks. (`*-- she takes the glass of juice from him, raises it up to her lips and takes a sip. it’s not her brother’s champagne, but it’s not unpleasant, and it relaxes her enough to ease back on the bench. she winces, however, when the leather creaks beneath her as she shifts her weight.) um. that wasn’t me, i swear. (`*-- halla clears her throat and takes another sip.) i’m halla, by the way. not a serial farter, but a m&m smuggler. (`*--on cue, she reaches into her pocket--god bless dresses with pockets!--and procures a half-empty bag of m&m’s. she leans forward to set the glass down in between her feet and curves her now-free hand palm side up, a ready vessel for some chocolate goodness. there’s a multicoloured mess on her skin by the time she’s done pouring out m&m’s and handing over the bag to the boy beside her to take some for himself.) sorry half of it’s gone, but my dad talks too much and i couldn’t just sit there doing nothing.

[yfhalla]

for a moment, halla stops running, freezes right in the middle of their practice game to catch her breath. she can feel beads of sweat running down the side of her face, and for what? for soccer? she watches her teammates kick the ball, and doesn’t even attempt to run after it when it’s heading towards her feet, because this is just practice. why waste her energy on a practice game? 

halla tucks locks of hair behind her hair, wincing when her fingers come away damp. 

“ugh. gross.” 

she eyes the bench with hopeful eyes. in just four long strides-- as far as ‘long’ goes with her legs anyway--she could get there, and taste the comfort of a good sit down. she’s well and truly ready to walk over when her name is being called out from the other end of the field. 

it’s not a good sign. 

she knows that voice well--too well. sora’s shouting has the entire team freezing in place, everyone wearing almost identical expressions of surprise and worry combined. halla swivels around on her heels, a sheepish smile plastered on her lips while she stands almost curling into herself ready to be attacked by the captain’s scolding words. 

“y-yeah?”

@yfxsora​

[yfhalla]

it takes every ounce of halla’s willpower to stop herself from rolling her eyes. but what she does do is scrunch up her nose in distaste at the sight of jimin lying on the floor, head resting on the back of his forearm. she’s completely unimpressed and she’s taking this moment--jimin’s distraction--to express that. the gym reeks of stale air and sweat and if she’s being honest, she cannot believe she’s here of all places.

but as soon as he lifts his head, she’s straightfaced all over again. 

“look. jimothy. dude.” (formalities maybe, halla?) “it’s tragic, i know. but you know what else is tragic? the fact that you brought me here. of all places.”  

halla has been attempting to run on the treadmill for the last half hour that the two of them have been at the gym, but the feat has been unsuccessful thus far. in her defense, however, it had been going well for the first ten minutes; she had been motivated (somewhat) to put effort into working out for the sake of the soccer team. but the minute jimin had remembered the Bad News™, everything had gone downhill. 

“um.” halla slows the treadmill down to its slowest pace--surprisingly enough, she wasn’t already there. “are you gonna lie there all day moping about my chemical romance, or...?”

@yfjimin

[yfhalla]

the silence in her room is only interrupted by periodic sighs and the quiet murmur of halla’s voice when she finds it in herself to speak again. she’s tired, so tired, of constantly having to tamper everything down, to put on a brave face and pretend like nothing is getting to her, when all she really wants to do is scream, and shout, and stop being so weak. 

“i just...” 

halla turns onto her side, but doesn’t pull away from yujin’s hand carding through her hair. it’s petty to be bothered by something so trivial, but she can’t help it. she’s beyond confused as to why something as basic as taehyung sitting next to mona had her mood doing a complete one-eighty earlier today, but it did, it happened, and now she’s here. 

“i don’t get it, jinnie. sometimes it feels like she’s helping me, and she tells me to go for it and all that... but then why is she holding his hand all the time?” 

she groans and rolls over onto her stomach, face buried in her sheets, because she hates thinking about this, overanalysing every minute detail of taehyung and mona’s relationship, but it’s so normal for her at this point that she doesn’t know how to stop. if there is anything halla is sure of, however, it’s that she would not survive without yujin by her side, her saving grace who is always ready with a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. 

“i’m never gonna win, am i? how could i ever win against someone like mona unnie?”

@yfxyujin

[yfhalla]

(`*-- if she’s being honest, halla’s not really a fan of these things, because dressing up is such a hassle and there’s barely anyone interesting to talk to. sure, the place is nice enough, and she loves her dad to death, but she’s heard this speech of his already--too many times to count at this point--and she could probably get up there and recite it herself, word for word.) oppa, i’m bored. can i have a sip? (`*-- she’s unimpressed when her brother just chuckles quietly and pats her on the head when she points at his glass of champagne.) fine. i’m gonna go wander around. (`*-- halla’s barely five steps out of the banquet hall when she spots someone already sitting outside, and thank god they look closer in age to her than everyone else inside. but he seems a little... lost in thought, so she’s not sure if she should even walk over. wouldn’t hurt to try though, right?) hey. mind if i sit here too?

@yfxyoongi

[yfhalla]

late. that is, most definitely, what halla is right now. she’s barely made it into her uniform, having gotten way too distracted planning this weekend’s activities with the rest of the group to even think about soccer practice, and now that she’s remembered it, she’s running down the halls, feet clad only in socks right now--laces take up too much time, and she’s wasted enough of that already--with the bottom of her bag hitting the small of her back rhythmically as she makes her way down to the field. 

but too focused on getting out of the building, halla forgets that this is a public space, and it’s more likely than not that someone else will be walking down to the halls too. the probability of her running into someone at this point is very high. 

and that’s exactly what she does. 

halla cries out with surprise, her fall barely cushioned by her backpack. for a moment, she’s stunned, and doesn’t comprehend the situation or registers the increasing pain on her behind, until she sees who she’s run into--the school nurse. 

“oh my g-- sorry! sorry, sorry, sorry!” 

halla is quick to stand up, steadying herself on the wall when she almost slips (because socks provide barely any grip), and apologises profusely while bowing deeply. it’d be just her luck to run into a member of the staff. 

“a-are you okay? i’m really, really sorry. i know i shouldn’t be running down the halls, but i'm late for soccer practice and--” 

her eyes are wide and she stops her sentence before it can even be finished because she’s looking at the way kihyun is holding his wrist--and that can’t be a good thing. 

@yfxkihyun

[yfhalla]

👙

for this meme | status: accepting !

                                            👙 : seeing your muse in underwear 

accompanying yujin to work always means that halla will be stuck wandering through the jungle of giants. she’s been bumped into too many times to count today–a necessary burden for a five-foot girl to carry–and her eyes are admittedly a little sore from all the bright camera flashes, but what does it matter when she’s here, surrounded by the nation’s most beautiful people? 

she’s taken refuge in yujin’s dressing room, perched up on a table beside enough makeup to last her two lifetimes. ever-curious, she takes the liberty of picking up eyeshadows, turning pots over and reading shade names and numbers with intrigued eyes. 

“hey, jinnie,” halla says, swinging her legs off the edge of the table, watching as yujin stands to take off her robe, getting ready to change into her next outfit. “you think there’ll ever be a chance i could be a model like you? i mean, even though i’m literally the little squishy dory was talking about in finding nemo. and don’t say i can model for kids clothing because you’ll sound just like the others and i won’t come with you to work anymore.” 

she laughs, confident in her friendship with yujin that she won’t say that–and if she does, it’ll be all in good fun. halla watches her get dressed, marveling in the way even her underwear looks perfect on her body, but she doesn’t dwell on that for long, because soon enough, she’s fully clothed and ready to step back out to stand in front of the camera once more, looking better than the best. 

“knock ‘em dead, jinnie. give ‘em that blue steel.”

yujin is stunning, and halla has no problem admitting that.

[yfhalla]

🌙 : seeing your muse outside alone during nighttime

for this meme | status: accepting !

                             🌙 : seeing your muse outside alone during nighttime 

tonight is one of those nights that halla can’t find it in her to fall asleep. she’s tossed and turned in her bed several times already, and she can feel her frustration growing the longer she lies there. halla gets up, quietly so as not to disturb her roommate, and grabs her sketchbook on her way out of the dorm room. 

it’s warm enough outside that halla doesn’t need to cover up; she has her sketchbook cradled in the crook of her left arm, and for a moment, she stops halfway to the field to take a moment to just... breathe. she has an inkling that too much has built up inside her head over the last few months, to the point where her entire body feels too stuffy and heavy, weighed down by the burden of her thoughts. halla cannot wait for summer break. 

her steps slow when she spots another figure sitting on the grass; the closer halla gets, the easier it is for her to spot that it’s seulgi. she offers him a small wave hello when he spots her, no doubt mirroring his surprised expression because no one is usually out on the field at this kind of hour. 

“hey,” halla greets; she smiles sheepishly right after when she realises how informally she’d just greeted her senior. “mind if i join you?”

[yfhalla]

your muse offering mine an alcoholic drink

for this meme | status: accepting !

                                     🍸 : your muse offering mine an alcoholic drink 

halla looks back and forth between choa and the bottle she’s currently holding out. it’s definitely past curfew, no one should be out and about at the hour, but halla isn’t really surprised, if she’s being honest. 

it’s not like she’s never had a drink before–her brothers have always been generous, always willing to share with their baby sister–but there’s something about accepting alcohol on school grounds that has her feeling a little suspicious about the whole exchange. 

“unnie, i don’t…” drink? is that what she’s about to finish her sentence with? choa would see right through that; she’s spent enough time in the choir–absolute hell; halla’s still not sure why she’s still there when she can’t even sing–to develop a subtle wariness towards choa, and seeing her here at her door with alcohol doesn’t help to alleviate that one bit. she wants to shut the door, but she resists that urge, because as uncomfortable as she might be feeling right now, choa, at the end of the day, is her senior. halla looks down at the bottle one more time, before sticking her head out of the doorway a little further, looking from side to side at both ends of the hall.

“how did you even get that in here?”

[yfhalla]

seeing your muse scared

for this meme | status: accepting !

                                                 👻 : seeing your muse scared 

biting her bottom lip, halla stands still with her hands curled into tight fists to stop them from shaking. her knuckles have turned white with how hard she’s trying not to break, but she’s failing with every passing second. halla doesn’t want to cry, because crying would signal weakness, but it’s difficult to resist the urge to when these girls are throwing insults at her so quickly, she barely has room to breathe in between. 

she keeps her head low, gaze burning a hole through the ground, and halla is regretting having gone off to the bathroom alone without at least one other girl to accompany her. now she’s been cornered, pressed up against one of the sinks, surrounded by three girls almost twice her size. their laughter rings in her ears like a broken record, and she wants nothing more than to run.

halla only lifts her head when she hears the bathroom door swing open, and with wide eyes she watches eunha step in. eunha. she’s seen eunha before--how could she have not when she’d modeled for the best--a third year from the baek ho house of all places, and to see her here, while halla is getting bullied into oblivion, is, admittedly, a strange sight.

she doesn’t know whether she’s relieved or even more afraid now.

[yfhalla]

👻

for this meme | status: accepting !

                                                👻 : seeing your muse scared 

halla jerks in her spot and gasps, clutching her sketchbook close to her chest because she most definitely did not expect to be seeing anyone else here at this hour. technically, sure, this could be considered skipping class; halla shouldn’t be in the library right now, holed up by one of the desks at the back, sketching away and neglecting study hall--does study hall count as a class--so to suddenly see someone else here is understandably surprising. 

“ah! u-unnie.” 

halla gets up so fast she drops her pencil and hits the side of her hand against the wood of the desk in her haste to bow to yeeun, two years her senior. nervous, she clears her throat, picking at the skin beside her thumbnail, looking everywhere but forward. 

“um... i was just...” 

she really has no excuse for being here, and she can almost taste the scolding words that yeeun’s going to throw at her. back at the ju jak house, halla’s gotten a reputation as one of the quieter first years, one that doesn’t cause any trouble, stays out of everyone’s way and doesn’t get on anyone’s bad side. now, being caught ditching class--seriously, does study hall actually count as a class--she hopes her position as one of the nicer kids in their mutual house gets her off easy.

[yfhalla]

☂☔️☂☔️☂☔️☂

for this meme | status: accepting !

                 ☔️ : your muse offering to share an umbrella with mine on a rainy day 

it’s an interesting sight to see the rain while the sun is still high up in the sky. halla has stopped running to watch the water catch the sunlight as it falls to the grass beneath her feet. barely does she register the squeals of surprise from the rest of the girls on the soccer team, who are quick to cover their heads as they run for shelter. barely does she register excited shouts from the boys team at the other end of the field, who open their arms wide and tilt their heads back with glee. 

“halla!” 

only when her name is called does halla move from her spot, looking over her shoulder to see mona waving her over, an umbrella already opened and held above her head. she runs over, wiping drops of water away from her eyes with the back of her hand. her uniform is now soaked through, clinging to her body like a second skin, and as soon as she’s close enough, halla’s finding shelter underneath the umbrella--it’s definitely big enough for the both of them.

“we’re all gonna get sick,” halla says, laughing as she watches the boys soccer team running around, continuing with their practice. she looks over her shoulder again and sees the last of the girls team members running towards one of the school buildings, arms held above their heads in a futile attempt to save their hair. “we should go too, unnie.”