riribibi
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'I just mean,' Nicholas starts, then looks away like he’s nervous. He has this badly disguised, kicked-kitten expression that Euijoo remembers from when they were younger, when he used to think to himself, I can’t believe there are people scared of him at school. 'All those years alone? So lonely, Juju! Not even any flings—'
'No,' says Euijoo through his teeth, frustrated and humiliated and mostly a little starved. 'There’s no one. Not since—' And then he swallows his own tongue.
Those strange, wonderful, inseparably close teenage years; the freedom in inevitably drifting apart; and the ache of the aftermath.
Bookmarked by riribibi
11 Oct 2025
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Rigging hotel bedroom assignments is an art. It requires just the right amount of begging and bribery, two things Nicholas is pretty good at.
Any act of self-flagellation is worth it, ultimately, as long as he gets to wake up to this: Euijoo, warm and pliant and sweet as Nicholas kisses his thighs, rubbing his cheek over the softness of them. He hates mornings, but he loves Euijoo. And as long as he wakes up early enough, this is as much alone time as they can get. So he’ll set aside any grumpiness if it means having Euijoo to himself for a while.
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or: the one where Nicholas indulges a little bit in the early hours of the morning.Bookmarked by riribibi
30 Sep 2025
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Before he could do it, Euijoo speaks up. “Have we met before?”
He retracts his hand that’s reaching to grab the white napkin by the plate to look at Euijoo. Nicholas is sure Euijoo has a face he won’t ever be able to forget if he’s seen it in passing or somewhere else. Beautiful smile, upturned lips, tanned skin that makes him look like he’ll probably make Nicholas sweat under the blanket if they’re pressed up against each other because he just seems to exude warmth.
“No.” Nicholas says, he’s never been more certain about anything in his life. “I don’t think so.”
“You look—” Euijoo trails off, “very familiar.”
“If this is a pickup line about how I’m the man of your dreams, I’m going to walk out of this restaurant right now, Euijoo.”
───
in which euijoo and nicholas fall in love. for what feels like the thousandth time.
Bookmarked by riribibi
30 Sep 2025
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Nicholas leans against the concrete wall by the station. He has to look up to meet Euijoo’s eyes, just a tiny lift of his chin. Euijoo keeps seeing the vague outlines of what Nicholas is thinking seconds before he even thinks it. In this industry—in this awful, vapid industry—it’s a virtue. Euijoo hasn’t spoken to someone this open, who makes him want to open up like this in years.
“I guess I just keep wondering,” Nicholas says, shy and unflinching in equal measure, looking right at him. “Does anybody really know you?”
Byun Euijoo is an actor with walls a mile high. Enter Wang Yixiang, his new stylist.
Bookmarked by riribibi
29 Sep 2025
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It was especially difficult to get out of bed today. The cold, and the memories. I guess I can be sentimental, too, and say that I miss the excuse of your dead weight on top of me when I wanted to sleep in, when the sun was already high in its arc in the sky, when my sister would bang on my locked door to tell us that breakfast was ready. That was the year our dads were away and you stayed over almost every night. A lot of things changed that year. To borrow your phrasing: surely you remember that too.
It's the late 1950s. Euijoo and Yixiang find each other in stolen moments, and then in letters.
Bookmarked by riribibi
28 Sep 2025