#Cleanin' out my closet
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Cleanin’ out my closet.
Ponovo razmatram u čemu da nađem spasenje od postojanja. Niko ne razume; ne razumeju ovu neutaživu težnju ka večnosti u kojoj sve prestaje. Crna rupa postaje sve veća, bol na duši sve teža; vaše reči sve tiše, sve dalje. Svi ljudi su mi strani i nedodirljivi. Ništa moje se ne kosi ni sa čim njihovim. Utoliko je teža svest o odvojenosti što je veća čežnja za potpunim stapanjem. Moja majka se vremenom navikla na mene, ali nije me želela. Rođena sam kao pretnja, kao kletva; rođena sam prokleta da budem prokletstvo svakome ko mi dušu dodirne. Zato sam je i sakrila od svih. Odbacila sam je, isto kao ona mene, neprekidno ponavljanje iste priče kroz različite reči i epohe. Ne znam kako da te navedem da pronikneš u ovo Ništa. Ne znam kako da nam izmislim neko novo Sve u koje ćeš me slediti. Ne znam kako da složim delove mozaika. Veo između mene i sveta, ponekad zid. Tunel u kom ostanem na pola zaglavljena, natrag ne mogu, napred ne smem. Obećala sam svome Anđelu da neću dići ruke na sebe ni od sebe, ali kolena ranjavam iz očajanja da spoznam kako. Kako? U čemu je izlaz? U čemu ti nalaziš utočište? Glasovi su im daleki, misli i potrebe još dalje. Sedim sama ovde u sred ledenog doba i ne mogu da pređem na njihovu stranu ogledala. Želim da budem neka druga, a ne ova, ne ovakva, ne ovako. Svaki dan je to igra uzaludnog traganja u kome ostaje ona, obična, koju ne smem da ti pokažem. Nekad iz inata pred svet gola stanem i puštam da okreću glavu. Ni tad se ne dodirujemo. Ponovo sam pretnja, ponovo sam ono malo bespomoćno biće koje vrišti i pruža ruke i nastoji da proguta svet. Takva uzaludna, totalno besmislena ali jedino takva jer drugačija ne mogu biti. Ponekad kivna na vas, odakle vam pravo pretpostavljati da znate šta se krije u ovim dubinama? Ponekad ravnodušna pred vašim klevetama kojima ostavljate nespretne otiske po belom platnu. Ponekad, ponekad me boli svaka strelica pa je zarivam sebi još dublje u kožu i puštam da mi otrovi struje kroz vene. I opet ti nisam rekla ništa - jer za ovo ne postoje reči, jer za ovo ne postoje ni suze, ni krici, ni dovoljno smrtonosna oružja! Šta nije u redu? Šta? Šta? Kako me smeš to pitati? Odakle ti smelosti usuditi se na pomisao da mi možemo da se sporazumemo? Nastavi da mi nižeš mogućnosti koje neću iskoristiti, pojase za spasavanje koje neću prihvatiti, prave lekove za pogrešne rane. Šta ti kaže psihoterapeutkinja na to? Kaže mi da su neki vozovi odavno prošli, a nažalost samo jednom se u njih možeš ukrcati. Ja nisam imala kartu i svako je stigao kasno. Kaže mi da nije ona kriva, priča mi o traumama i pritiscima na žene da dobiju dete. Uostalom zar je važno šta mi kaže? Kaže reči koje ja žedno upijam, ali u pustinji nikad ne napada dovoljno kiše. Možda sam zato oduvek najsrećnija na moru; ono je jedino dovoljno veliko da se u njemu (ne) udavim. Nekad sam se znala pretvarati da je sačinjeno od svih suza koje nikad nisam isplakala (što more mojih suza prolivenih zbog tebe/ni na jednoj karti sveta ne postoji). Negde na dnu, ispod plavetnila i talasa, postoji biser u netaknutoj školjki. Negde tamo, ja sam čista, slobodna, beskonačna. I čini se, dok se ne vratim, zauvek ću na rukama nositi okove, zauvek plaćati za grešku u mom kodu, bez načina da ta greška bude ispravljena. Kao film sa Ešton Kučerom- Butterfly Effect. Ali, ne ona PG13 verzija sa srećnim krajem. Ona druga, u kojoj je svaka tragedija povezana sa njegovim rođenjem i u kom on, (jebiga, spoiler) bira da to rođenje poništi zarad harmonije u svetu u koji je uneo haos. Efekat leptira zovu i teorijom haosa, znaš li? Uvek će me fascinirati potreba za logičnim od koje kada odustanem na prelepe trenutke neobuzdanog ludila jasno vidim nešto što mi prvi put zaliči na stvarnost. Mama, ja sam ovde. To ne možemo da vratimo. I ja te volim, toliko, toliko da mi se čini da bih nekad i ja obrnula planetu kao čigru i vratila se u 17. maj '98. I odlučila bih da ne preživim. Da li možeš da mi oprostiš što jesam?
-Katarina
#beloggradacrnaprinceza#tekst#tekstovi#pisanje#Proza#Cleanin' out my closet#Efekat leptira#tužni tekstovi#Tekstovi#balkan tekst#balkan tekstovi#Lično
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"Cleanin' Out My Closet" blasting while they clean out Grimmauld Place
#harry potter#sirius black#walburga black#cleanin' out my closet#music#eminem#grimmauld place#I would tag “mommy issues”#but I'm afraid what else has tagged it so uh no
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"Witnessing your momma popping prescription pills in the kitchen."
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"Well, guess what?
I am dead, dead to you as can be!"
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Lecture 20: Authenticity has been the key to success in the world of hip hop. Because African Americans essentially created and have long dominated the genre, it has not always been easy for whites to break into it. One of the exceptions is Eminem (a.k.a., Marshall Mathers III), who began with a weak debut album (1996’s Infinite) but soared to the heights of fame with his highly successful ‘99 sophomore release, The Slim Shady LP. This song, “Cleainin’ Out My Closet,” is one of his most iconic tunes, off of his 2002 album The Eminem Show. The song features his trademark intensely dramatic style, although Eminem could also display a razor-sharp irreverent sense of humour and penchant for the absurd, as evident – for example – in his hilarious music video for “Without Me” (see here).
#Eminem#Marshall Mathers III#Cleanin' Out My Closet#2002#Rap#Hip Hop#The Slim Shady LP#Without Me#Infinite
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btw. sweater with shoulder pads my best friend sweater with shoulder pads
#this used to be my grandma’s tehe she gave it to me when we were cleanin out her closet when she was moving#face tag
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Update
I'm going to be working on updating my Masterlist in the next few days. And I've decided to do the same to my taglist. If you want to continue to be on the tags below, send me a message or ask and let me know.....if not, Adios bitches. LOL
I'm not really that mean. But yea, if I don't hear from you I will take you off the list(s).
FOREVERS
@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @spnbaby-67 @tftumblin @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @deanwanddamons @supraveng @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92
Law & Love
@fanfic-n-tabulous @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites @yvonneeeeeeee @raisinggray
#page update#masterlist#cleanin out my closet#i know i'm not eminem#no spaghetti vomit on my sweater#need your feedback
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Question.....
Is the Church in the video for Helena by My Chemical Romance the same as the churching Eminem's Cleanin Out My Closet???
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Storia illustrata
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"Going through public housing systems, victim of Munchhausen's Syndrome.
My whole life I was made to believe I was sick when I wasn't."
#lyrics#Cleanin' Out my Closet#Eminem#munchausen by proxy#munchausen syndrome by proxy#munchausen syndrome#gaslighting#the eminem show
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Doctor's Note - Sodapop Curtis x Reader
summary: you stand soda up, accidentally
contents/warnings: soda is somewhere around 18-19, mentions of his failed relationship w sandy, distrust/miscommunication, angst -> fluff. based on my very painful experience this morning with crippling back pain
send me requests for the outsiders!
Selfishly, sometimes you wonder what it would have been like to date Sodapop before he'd met Sandy. When he was more carefree, when he wasn't glancing at any man you talked to just a second too long. He's not possessive- and even if he is, he doesn't enforce it. But you know he's wary, and you know it's her fault.
Darrel had warned Soda to stay away from girls for a while, to give himself a break. And he had. Two long years later his hiatus was broken when you'd come into the DX fiending for a coke, and when you'd asked, 'Do you know where I could find a soda 'round here?' his eyes had glimmered with opportunity, and he'd pointed proudly to his nametag.
"Right here, ma'am. No caffeine in me but I could keep 'ya up all night if you want me to."
It had been so wildly crass, so insanely audacious that you'd burst out laughing, both from the absurdity of his name and the brashness of his comment. He'd apologized for it, too, twenty minutes into your conversation that lasted an hour.
"I didn't mean what I said earlier. I mean- I don't usually come on strong like that. Couldn't stop myself- prolly got it from my friend Two-Bit, he's always crackin' jokes like that. Hope you didn't think it was greasy."
"I think it was very greasy," You'd laughed, tilting your chin towards the tin of hair grease abandoned at the other end of the counter, "I thought that was the whole point."
"That's my buddy Steve's", Soda had told you, light dancing in his eyes as he readjusted his elbows on the counter to lean further towards you, "He does these real fancy swirls in his hair, and I've been able to do 'em a few times, but mainly I just slick mine back, and half the time I don't even grease it anyways because I'm just bummin' round the house so there's no need. My other friend-"
He was a natural-born talker, and you'd been just as caught up with talking yourself as you were with listening to him. It had taken the reappearance of his aforementioned coworker, Steve, for you to glance at the clock, and realize that you were 40 minutes past the time you should have been back at work from your lunch break.
You're surprised you hadn't scared Sodapop off with your swearing alone, but you'd managed to scribble your number onto his hand before you'd left. You hadn't even remembered to buy a drink, but he'd brought you one when he showed up for your first date.
Now, three weeks later, you're getting ready to show up to his house. This is a big thing: you're meeting his brothers. He's told you so much about them you feel like you know them, and he's also given you your fair share of warnings, too. Darry's too stern sometimes, and it might take a while for him to warm up to you. Ponyboy's an awkward teen, and on top of it, he'd trusted Sandy- they all had. You know you've gotta prove yourself better than her, and you're starting with some sweet perfume and a bundle of flowers for their dining table.
--
"Get your bum ass off the couch and vacuum," Soda's hands shove roughly at Ponyboy's thighs, "She's gonna be here in thirty minutes!"
"Jeez, Soda, she's not my girlfriend," Ponyboy grumbles, but he stands and heads for the closet where the vacuum lies all the same, "Don't understand why I have to be the one cleanin'."
"'Cause Darry's the one cookin'." Soda glares at him, "And I'm cleaning too. I've been cleaning for days."
"Bathroom looks good, little man." Darry voices his approval from the kitchen, "Thought I was gonna die of shock when I realized you'd scrubbed down the toilet."
Not much conversation is heard over Ponyboy's aggressive vacuuming, but Soda calls the cleaning at five minutes to your arrival time.
"Okay. Rules again?" He looks expectantly at his brothers, and Darry looks irritated that he's being grilled this time.
"No judging." Ponyboy grumbles, but he doesn't think it's fair, because Sandy had seemed so nice and sweet, and she'd run right out on Sodapop. So he feels like he has to judge, because maybe Soda's gonna get hurt again. He doesn't want that.
"No grilling." Darry continues, equally put-out by Soda's request. He wants what's best for his brother. Sodapop's two-year long relationship drought was refreshing, and he's seen the boy blossom into a wonderful man. Still, he can't help feeling some lingering resentment towards Sandy, and he knows it's not fair to attach it to you, but he doesn't know what else to do with it.
"And no arguing at the table." He glances between Darry and Pony both warily, "I mean it, this isn't the night to discuss grades or curfew or chores. Just- be nice to her. Treat her like a real guest."
"Alright, little buddy." Darry secedes, squeezing Soda's flannel-clad shoulder slightly, "Now, you gonna go wait by the door for her?"
"No! I'm not that desperate." Soda scoffs, but Darry notices the way he flops down into his eldest brother's armchair, the only seat in the house with a view of the front walkway. Ponyboy settles himself awkwardly on the couch, watching cartoons even though there's an anxious tension in his skinny shoulders.
You're set to arrive in two minutes, and Soda's practically vibrating out of his seat. There's no sign of the cute little sundress you said you'd wear today, but that's okay, because he thinks it's so considerate of you to show up punctually versus early. if you'd come fifteen minutes earlier you would have seen him near-tears over the spot of chocolate that wouldn't rub out of the wall behind the television. Ponyboy had pointed out that there's no way you would have seen it unless you'd been wedged between their tv and the wall, but Soda was not going to invite you into a messy home.
One minute goes by, and Soda's cuticles hurt from where his nails tear at them. He tries to stop himself- after all, you wouldn't want to hold his hand if his was bleeding. But his next nervous habit becomes fiddling with the hem of his shirt, which isn't nearly as satisfying for his fingers.
He waits for what he's sure is more than a minute, which means you're due to flounce up the stairs in seconds. But he doesn't see you, and he knows Pony's watching him crane his neck every three seconds to look for you. So he tones it down- after all, he's got a 10-minute grace period at the DX for his shifts. If he can clock in at 8:10 and still be 'on time', you can show up a few minutes late.
"Any sign of her?" Darry pokes his head out of the kitchen, seeing the front door still shut. Soda shakes his head- then he catches a glimpse of your hair color outside the window. Upon further inspection, it's a stray cat. Ponyboy snorts at him, and Soda sinks back into the recliner.
Okay, so you've used up your grace period. But Soda gets it- you probably sang one too many love songs about him in the shower, and now you're tripping over your own feet trying to run to his house. Or the bus was late, or you missed it entirely, and you'll show up before the food goes cold.
Fifteen minutes go by, and Darry hovers over the finished meal, wondering whether he should plate it or not.
Twenty minutes go by, and Darry considers removing one plate from the table.
Thirty minutes go by, and Darry turns off the stove.
An hour goes by, and Pony retreats to his room for some homework time. Darry's meticulously cleaning the kitchen, but Sodapop thinks it's more because he doesn't know what to say than because he thinks you'll judge them for a grease stain on the wall.
When Darry's scrubbed the kitchen raw nearly an hour later, he pads softly over to Soda where he still rests in his armchair.
"Soda, I- listen, I don't think she's comin' tonight."
"I told her today." Soda's got his fingernail pinched between his teeth, his leg having long-since stopped its nervous bouncing, "I- I know I told her tonight, and she said she'd be here, but I-"
Darry's hand squeezes his shoulder again, this time tighter, and something awfully familiar resurges in Soda's chest where it's laid dormant for two years.
"C'mon, little buddy." Darry urges him up out of the chair, "Let's turn in early tonight."
--
Soda's not doing his best work despite having gotten eleven hours of sleep the night prior. He's sluggish and mopey, and Steve sticks him on the register so that no one risks a foolish mistake to their car. Soda stares at a knot in the wood grain, chewing on the inside of his cheek, and doesn't look up even when the entrance bell dings.
"Soda-" He hears a voice, one that he'd been waiting since last evening to hear, one that exacerbates that sickly feeling in his chest. He hasn't been able to shake it, and your face had blended with Sandy's in his nightmares last night.
"Soda, I'm- I'm so sorry."
"Why didn't you show?" He barely has the courage to look up at you, but he does, because last time he'd groveled. He'd begged, pleaded, bargained with her to stay with him, and he wasn't going to do that this time. He was going to be the man Darry wanted him to be.
"I'm sorry." You repeat, clutching a paper in your hands, brows permanently furrowed, "It was an emergency. I was getting ready, and- and all of a sudden my back started hurtin'. Real bad, Soda, I- I had to lie down on the ground."
Soda watches, interest piqued, as you stagger towards the counter, clearly limping. Sickness is replaced with worry in his chest, and he watches as you brace yourself against the register.
"My folks didn't get home for hours. I was just laying there, I- I couldn't reach the phone, I couldn't move my legs, I was just stranded there." Your voice thickens at the memory, and you sniffle absentmindedly, "Soda, I would have called you, I just- I couldn't move. I swear. I tried, Soda, I swear I tried to get to the phone, but it was so painful. And then when my parents got home they had to carry me to the car 'n all, and the emergency room took forever, and- and we didn't get home until three in the morning, and I knew you'd be sleepin' so I didn't call, and I felt so bad because I knew you'd be waiting on me, and- and I'm so sorry, Sodapop."
All at once yours and Sandy's faces come undone in his mind, and hers is cast aside as he studies yours. There's tears, big shiny ones lining your eyes, and your chin trembles slightly. You're still clutching the paper, and when you realize he's glancing at it, you gasp.
"Oh! I- um, I got you a doctor's note. I didn't want you to think I was lyin'."
You push the page towards him on the counter, and he takes it with trembling hands.
'Patient Y/N Y/L/N admitted to emergency services at 8:49 PM Wednesday, 30th July. Diagnosed with severe lumbar muscle strain. This patient is placed off of work from 7/30/1968 through 8/05/1968.
Patient would like to add that she did not intend to stand up her date with one Sodapop Patrick Curtis on Wednesday, 30th July. Patient would like to reschedule for another night. Doctor prescribes a calm, laid-back dinner date until patient recovers.'
"Had one hell of a time trying to get him to put that in there." Your sheepish voice pipes up from where Soda's reading the last words on the page, "But I told him you were a nice boy and he said there's not many of those around here. I'm sorry, again. I'm so sorry."
Lumbar muscle strain rings a bell in Soda's head. It's something Darry's definitely mentioned before, the few times they've bullied him into seeking medical attention for all of his blue collar aches and pains. He's sure if you're hurting the way Darry does sometimes, that you weren't lying about not being able to move.
You're staring at him like you're worried he'll send you away, and the piece of paper in his hands is the only thing stopping him from doing just that. But he glances down at it again, and takes a deep breath.
"It's okay. I believe you. My brother Darry, he- he pulls muscles sometimes. Don't usually see him cry, but I do when that happens. Are you okay?'
You visibly relax at his words, but something in your back must have protested the movement, because your face pinches up again.
"Um- yeah. Mostly. It hurts when I move too much." You admit, "But I had to make it down here to see you. I'm so sorry. Were you- were you angry at me?"
He doesn't think so- he was offended, he was disappointed, but most of all, he's pretty sure he was beating up on himself more than he was beating up on you. It felt like it did the first time, and he was the common denominator in both.
"No." He answers honestly, "But- uh, I think Darry probably is."
You wince, and he doesn't blame you. But he holds the note a little tighter, "But I'll tell him what happened. Like I said, he knows what that feels like. Don't worry about it, honey. You- uh, did you want to still meet them?"
"Of course! Of course," You nod eagerly, bracing your weight against the counter, "Do you still... want me to meet them?"
"Of course." He echoes, finally breaking his stoicism with a grin, a shy one as he reaches for your hand over the counter, still clutching the note in his other hand, "Can't argue with the doctor's orders."
#sodapop curtis#sodapop curtis x reader#sodapop curtis imagine#sodapop curtis fanfiction#sodapop curtis oneshot#sodapop curtis one-shot#sodapop curtis fanfic#sodapop curtis fic#sodapop curtis blurb#sodapop curtis drabble#sodapop curtis dialogue#sodapop curtis headcanons#sodapop curtis headcanon#sodapop curtis hc#sodapop curtis hcs#sodapop curtis x you#sodapop curtis x y/n#the outsiders x reader#the outsiders fanfiction
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Tag game!
🎧 pick a song for each letter of your url (only the first song that comes to your mind! no research! 🎧
Stan - Eminem
Antichrist - Eminem
Ballin’ - Snoop Dogg
Somebody Save Me - Eminem
Please Please Please - Sabrina Carpenter
Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish
Evil - Eminem
The Real Slim Shady - Eminem
I’m Back - Eminem
Cleanin’ Out My Closet - Eminem
tagging 🏷️ : @vbecker10 @queenofstarsign85 @tomriddleslovergirl @aspergirl-2006 @the-loss-of-my-life @itzzkaylaaa @bookofspiders @vintagebishx + anyone who wants to join💕 (no pressure tags ofc < 3)
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I'm just imagining the main 4 riding in Kennys old beat up car that squeaks a deafening sound at every stop, Kenny has an Eminem CD in the CD player and it's playing one of the more depressing ones, like "cleanin' out my closet". Kyle, Stan and cartman have to wonder if this is how they die, apart of an impulsive suicide via car crash by the hands of Kenny and his shitty car. But they've got no choice really since Kenny is the only one of them who has a 'legitimate' license and there is no way in hell their going to ride in the funky shit show that is the school bus.
I also think the same thought pass through Kyle's head whenever he's riding shotgun with Stan when the song "Stan" by eminem starts playing on the radio (it also doesn't help that Stan presses the accelerator a little more every time it does come on)
*NOT MY ART*
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i will love eminem forever honestly
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Beach Bunny
hello, here's my first John Marino fic! Let me know what you think!
Requests are open :)
John watched you as you sat on the bed with your laptop in front of you. You were working on an essay for one of your college classes. You had one of your favorite playlists playing in the background as John was on his phone.
“Flashing back to New York City
Changing flights so you stay with me
Remember thinkin' that I got this right
And now I wish we never met
'Cause you're too hard to forget
While I'm cleanin' up your mess…” you sang along to Lie to Me by 5 Seconds of Summer. John was watching you sing as you typed your essay. He thought you had an amazing voice. You had a decent range too. However, being a singer was not what you wanted. You wanted to run your own business one day. That’s why you were writing an essay, for your business class.
You stopped singing and focused on your essay, and John went back to his phone. He loved hearing you sing. You always sang in the car, while you wrote, and while you were doing household chores. Good Girls by Beach Bunny started to play next and you groaned, it was one of your favorites.
“I'm tired of dumb boy talk
Of getting close
You say you won't, you do
And act as though you don't
You're not a ghost
I'm not afraid of you
I started letting go
You let me know
That you were just confused
And I still think that you're cute
But I need you to remember that
Good girls don't get used,” you sang your heart out to this one with your eyes closed, feeling the lyrics. John watched you with heart eyes. He loved the sound of your voice. Once the song ended and another started, you could feel his eyes on you. Looking over, you felt a blush spread across your cheeks.
“Sorry, sometimes I get carried away when Beach Bunny is on. They’re my favorite,” you confessed shyly.
John shook his head, smiling, “I love it.”
You smiled and moved your laptop so you could jump onto his chest and hug him, abandoning your essay. John easily caught you and chuckled, wrapping his strong arms around your back. He grabbed his phone to look at something.
“Whatcha doing, Johnny?” you mumbled into his chest.
“I’m looking to see if a Beach Bunny concert is coming up,” he said.
You perked up, “Really?” You shifted your head so you could see his phone screen. You hoped and prayed that there was a concert nearby and soon.
John scrolled through the tour dates and found one in New York City, “Babe, it’s tomorrow!” He exclaimed making you jump off of him in excitement.
“Can we go? Pretty please, Johnny? Are you off tomorrow?” You rambled out all the questions that popped into your head.
“I am off tomorrow. Let me see if there are any tickets left,” John mumbled as he messed with his phone.
“So?” you asked impatiently, looking back and forth from his face to the screen.
“Tickets are $239 each. Damn. Who’s headlining?” he questioned.
“Melanie Martinez!” you exclaimed, “It’s going to be a great tour.”
“Gotcha, got the tickets babe,” John declared smiling over at you. “No shit?” you almost screamed, and he nodded. This time you did, jumping back onto his chest as you placed kisses all over his face.
John laughed before wrapping you in a bone crushing hug, kissing the top of you head.
“Happy?” He asked you quietly.
“More than happy,” you said lifting your head to look into his eyes, “Thank you, Johnny.”
“Of course, sweetheart,” John muttered lovingly.
“Now I got to find something to wear,” you yelled while leaping off of John, in route to your closet. Shuffling through your dresses, you groaned, “I gotta go get something new, I think.”
“Let’s go shopping,” John suggested.
A broad smile graced your features, you reached out your hand towards him. John has a toothy grin on his face. You loved the missing tooth, and he knew it. He gets out of bed and grabbed your hand.
At the store, you had a few dresses laid over you arm as you both walked to the dressing room. You grabbed John’s hand and pulled him to a room and shut the door. He sat down on the chair while you hung up the dresses and put your purse down. Kicking off your shoes, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head with John’s eyes watching your every move. You tugged off your shorts and reached out for the first dress. It was a spaghetti strapped dress with a maroon floral print
Looking in the mirror, you turned to see the different angles of your dress, “Baby, what do you think of this one?”
Locking eyes with him in the mirror, he smiled, “I like this one.”
You smiled back, “I’m going to try on the black one,” you stated reaching for the short sleeved dress. Slipping out of the maroon dress, you effortlessly slid on the black dress, John’s eyes never leaving your form.
“Babe?” you question.
“Black looks good on you, but I like the tank top dress,” John confessed.
“Okay, last one,” you said referring to the cheetah print body con dress. Yanking off the black dress, you watched John’s face. He was practically drooling at you. Slightly turning, you decided to put on a little show for the last dress. Letting your hips sway in your cute light pink panties, you reached for the cheetah print dress and slowly slid into it, knowing that John’s eyes were on your ass. You turned back around to see his hooded eyes slowly looking up to your face, stopping on your breasts. Your cleavage in this dress made your boobs look imaculate.
“O-okay, this one is my favorite,” John stuttered standing up. He made his way over to you with his hands resting on your hips.
Blushing you reach up to tangle your hands into his curls, “I think it’s my favorite too.”
He leaned down and pressed a needy kiss to your lips. You deepened this kiss while letting your hands roam his arms.
Breaking the kiss, he pulled away, “Let’s go buy this and go home,” John whispered, “got a few things I want to do with you.”
“Is that so, Johnny?” you asked with doe eyes. He nodded and sat back in the chair, giving you the cue to change back into your clothes. After changing, you bought the dress and went home to take care of a few things before bed.
The next night, you and John were standing in line for the concert. You dressed in the new cheetah print dress and John in a nice button up. You gripped his hand while your other hand held his bicep. You rested your head on his shoulder as you moved forward little by little.
However, John could feel you bouncing. You were so excited.
“Babe, relax, you’ll see them soon enough,” he laughed.
“I’m trying, believe me,” you retorted giggling.
After making showing your tickets, you found your seats. You sat down and John’s arm wrapped around your shoulders. Talking about anything and everything, you waited. The lights suddenly dimmed and you sat up in your seat. The opening band played their set and left the stage. You both enjoyed them. Your eyes never leaving the stage, you see Lili Trifilio make her way to the middle of the stage with her guitar strapped to her shoulder.
You quickly stood up, John following suit, as she greeted the crowd and started to play Weeds. You cheered and sang along. John nodded his head along to the music and enjoyed watching you have the time of your life. Towards the end of their set, they played Cloud 9, another one of your favorites. John enveloped you in his hands as he swayed you back and forth to the beat of the song. You were in perpetual bliss, listening to your favorite band in concert and had the love of your life wrapped around you.
Before the last song, Painkillers, you turned around in John’s arms and gave him a big kiss.
“Thank you for this experience,” you gushed.
“Anything to see you happy, love,” John smiled. You turned around to listen to Beach Bunny’s last song, enjoying John’s presence and the atmosphere.
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MUN INTRO: hey! my name's peyton [th/th, cst, 21+] & i'll be writing for sverre olsen, lee hyeon, selena palacio & dylan hwang here. you can find me on discord @ #seamonkeydefender & please feel free to add me w/o asking as well! discord is my preferred plotting method. all of my characters are on sideblogs aside from sverre, so i will be dming from @portra400s when necessary... hehe
CHARA INTRO: next up, lee hyeon. he's a 25yr old city boy, currently "visiting" yuseong bay (re: staying here indefinitely) to ride out some bad press, as he was an idol up until his group noisily disbanded in late 2023. he's always been interested in cars/had some mechanic experience so he's now the shop hand at park's garage. you can view his stats here & his pinterest here if interested!
answer the following prompts, either ooc or ic!
when did your muse first arrive in yuseong bay?: has visited a few times before, but moved to yuseong bay indefinitely in february 2024.
what does an average day look like for your muse?: wake up around 6:30 or 7:00am, skincare/brush teeth, go for a jog around town, go back home to have breakfast, go to work, go home to shower and change clothes, go out for a while (probably for a joyride, but maybe somewhere to socialize), go home to spend the rest of the evening helping out around the house or working on music, go to sleep.
where can your muse usually be found?: during the day, he's usually at park's garage. aside from that, he's known to just cruise around in his car; though it is somewhat common to see him in the recreation center's gym or at 88& bar.
how does your muse feel about hanwha resort?: indifferent. it doesn't affect him in any way, but he's currently living with his best friend's grandparents, and he feels a bit sad for them that their quiet little town is becoming a little less quiet. still, he doesn't care a whole lot as it doesn't seem to have done any real harm to the area, and is more just of a nuisance than anything from what he can see.
is there an aspiration for your muse to stay in or leave yuseong bay?: he's waiting out bad press, so he'll probably be in yuseong bay until (a) his location leaks or (b) he can search his name without the disbandment news & articles about him being sued being the first things to come up. he was young when he started training to be an idol & only 18 when he debuted, soooo he's also just now getting a chance to (kind of) relax for the first time in his life—these are his motivations to stay, but he's a city boy at heart & does want to return to being a public figure when the drama dies down, so he'll have to leave sooner or later.
answer the following, ooc!
list your muse's three favorite songs: cleanin' out my closet by eminem, shark attack by limp bizkit, humble by kendrick lamar (honorable mentions: liberation by skyminhyuk & gottasade by bewhy); a fan of hip-hop & heavy rock.
describe your muse's style: simple, straight-forward. a closet full of basics in a dark color palette, but if pay him any mind, you’ll see that most of what he wears is designer—he’ll define his taste as “quiet elegance,” but it’s mostly just his pretentiousness speaking. occasionally wears accent pieces or graphic tees, but mostly stays minimalistic with layered jewelry as the “point”.
color, word, and emoji to describe your muse?: burnt sienna, "noise", 🔥
three strong likes and dislikes for your muse: really likes reptiles, racing, fashion / really doesn't like scifi, having to share anything, being disagreed with.
three positive and negative traits for your muse: positive decisive, hard-working, supportive / negative dishonest, unloyal, volatile.
three talents and shortcomings for your muse: very musically skilled, esp with producing, great at making decisions when no one else can/wants to (he'll never make you choose where to eat), very handy / poor control on his emotions, often acts without thinking, starts shit he can't finish.
what is a book/tv series/movie/video game character that you feel your character relates to?: mostly mac, some dennis (it's always sunny).
a relevant goal or arch for your character to overcome: hyeon's a very self-focused person. he's not quite as bad as he was when he was a little younger, but he's still quite aggressive & quick to use people for personal gain, then ditch them when they have nothing left to offer—doesn't necessarily want to be like this, and he's gained some self-awareness in recent times. so, it'd be nice if he can (start to) overcome this and view people as... people... instead of tools to get himself further in life!!! which will hopefully be easier for him in a place like yuseong bay anyway, where life is a little slower and the people are more genuine than what he's used to. aside from this, he has some inner child healing he needs to do and also needs to rediscover his own personality outside of the public image he's curated.
MORE INFO!
hyeon was the main rapper/subvocalist of a boy group called twi5t. debuted in 2017, disbanded in late 2023. they were pretty popular and believed by the public to be not just coworkers, but very good friends—which amplified this positive, ideal perception the public had of them. tl;dr is that they all hated each other. the only real friendship was between hyeon and one other member, who happens to be from yuseong bay and whose family hyeon's currently staying with.
in his stint as an idol, hyeon was originally the least popular member of twi5t. had an attitude scandal not long after debut, so he was under scrutiny already and it didn't help that he had a rough sense of humor and a tendency to use banmal with people he ought to be respecting. over the years, he gained (some) public favor thru the extensive producing he did for the group and other groups within the industry, solo variety show appearances, community service he was forced into, etc etc. but even as people cut him more slack and started to like him, he was perceived as being the most problematic one in the group which was... not true...
but i digress. he was one of the first members to start releasing solo music, which he "bribed" the company into. basically said "hey i'll let u guys have more of the profits than stated in my contract if u let me do this" because he was like... 21 and stupid as hell JBSDHJVSBDF like... he really thought that if he gave them a leg up, it would prevent them from trying to fuck him over. spoiler: it didn't. ultimately his contract was amended and resulted in the profits from everything with his name as an individual on it being split 60% to the company and 40% to him, but he didn't realize this was a permanent thing until a few years down the line when people who'd featured on his songs were making more money off said songs than he was. atp he was one foot out the door, not caring too much about the company or group 'cause fuck those guys for real...
still tried to be on his best behavior and was gonna wait out the contract, but shit started going extremely south with the group in 2023 and hyeon got sued into the ground for slander & breach of contract over a drunk instagram live he did where he was talking about it. aired out not only the group, but the company's business—basically talking about how the members didn't get along, citing a few instances, bitching about management never helping and just sweeping problems under the rug, mentioning how the company trapped him in an unfair contract, etc etc. so yea... his reputation's in the dirt!
anyway... he's 25 now. his brain's finally fully developed. he's learned from his mistakes. he's a better & smarter man than he used to be, but still has a long way to go. picked up a job at park's garage not longer after moving to yuseong bay, as he doesn't like to have too much time to sit around and sulk—helps that he's extremely interested in cars & had some prior mechanic experience from pre-debut and sidework for friends throughout his career.
speaking of cars........ he has two: a 2008 mitsubishi eclipse spyder, which usually sits @ the garage and his flashy daily driver, a 2022 mclaren 765lt. who's he pissing off when he goes joyriding with the top down?
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