#me focusing on the details here and there and ignoring the big drama brewing in the background just for the laughs

[titfairy]

I love that Earn was hurt and bleeding, and everyone is freaking out "Omg need medic asap!"

and then everyone showed up at the hospital already changed to another clothes lol

are they super super strict about not allowing actors to go out from set still in their costume? Idk hahah, but I feel like getting Earn out from that pants when she has big wound on her leg could be difficult

[iwillgiveyoumyhappiness]

이승협, Lee Seunghyub

anonymous asked:

hello sweetheart! can i request a prompt from prompt list#2, 22 and 13 with Seunghyub from N.Flying if that possible of course?

Group: N.Flying (엔플라잉)

Member: Seunghyub

Prompt: “Have you lost your damn mind?”, “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice”, “Kiss me”.

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The small restaurant you worked at wasn’t the most popular place in the world, and that was true enough. But a person who had spent any amount of time there knew that it was a special place, filled with scented candles, enchanting wall-art, addictive appetizers and pretty fantastic fresh-brewed coffee.

It was a place where artists came and drew on the walls as they pleased, leaving pieces of their passion behind on the pale surfaces. It was a place where students came to study in peace and laugh over good food. 

It was a place where businessmen came to wind down after a tiring day, and it was a place where the staff was more like family than anything else. It was a place where you worked—not because it was necessary—but because you genuinely liked it.    

That’s why it was always such a shame when people disrupted that calming environment. 

There were twelve regulars at that restaurant that you worked at. 

The three trainees from JYP that always came for breakfast and lunch. You didn’t know what they usually did for dinner, but you hoped that they ate well. They were nice boys with positive attitudes and a butt-load of talent. 

They’d given you a mini-concert before, just for practice. 

The woman who’d been going through a messy divorce, but stayed unbelievably strong for her kids. She talked about them so fondly, so you knew she would make it through all right. 

The grandma and grandpa that had been coming there every Tuesday since they got engaged there over forty years ago. Although that’d been before your time, they told you the story in such detail, it felt like you had seen it for yourself.

The stock manager with a sharp tongue, but kind eyes. He knew how to complain about the serving portions, but he also knew how to tip very well and always ask how your day had been.

The childhood friends that had moved from Incheon to study in Seoul. You just knew that they would end up together one day. It was the way that they looked at each other, filled with tenderness, distant adoration and a certain shy hesitance.  

The brother and sister that were trying to reconnect after being separated for a long time. They were still a little awkward with each other, but they were getting better every day. They’d even found a common interest in musical theater. 

And finally, the aptly named: Question Mark Man. 

You didn’t know much about him, but he’d always been interesting to you. His schedule was somewhat erratic, but he made sure to come in at least once a week. He always kept a low profile, had never told you his name, never made a big fuss about anything and always sketched on the wall in the far-back corner.

He’d been coming for about three months now.

He was tall, handsome, charming and a complete mystery. You didn’t even know what he’d been working on so diligently for the past three months. It looked like a person, but it was hard to tell who it was. He added a new piece every time that he came. 

The first day he came, he’d drawn a very rough outline. 

The second day, he added more detail to the body. 

The third day, someone had drawn over part of the arm, so he had shyly asked you to reserve that spot for him and only him. You’d accepted. 

The days went on, and the drawing only got more and more detailed. All he did now was hesitate to finish the face. He had started multiple times, but he’d always end up erasing it and starting again, insisting it was never quite right. 

“It has to be perfect,” he’d said one day.

You had chuckled at him. “Must be a pretty special drawing then, sir.” 

You’d studied him for quite some time now. Everything down to his bright eyes, skilled, lovely hands and heart-stealing smile. 

“You’re obsessed,” your co-worker had once told you. 

You had politely told her to go screw herself. “He just makes me curious,” you argued. “If I got to know him, he probably wouldn’t be my type.”

But today, there he was again, sitting in the far corner, drinking a cup of hot coffee. As always, he slaved over that drawing. 

“It looks like he’s actually making progress today,” you mentioned to your co-worker. 

She playfully smacked your arm. “Stop staring! You look like a psychopath.” 

“Wow,” you scoffed, though a smile played on your lips. “Rude.” 

She shrugged. “You know me.”

“Unfortunately,” you joked. You both laughed before parting ways. You focused yourself on the mundane task of rearranging the menus, trying your hardest to keep your attention off of the Question Mark Man. You didn’t want your friend’s prediction to come true. 

‘Suspected stalker’ certainly wouldn’t look very good on any future resumes. 

Your ears perked up hearing the familiar jingle of the rusty old bell that hung over the door. You looked up at the man that’d just entered. After being at this for a while, you had gotten to be a pretty decent judge of character, just based off of first impressions.

This guys didn’t give off a very good one. 

He was well-built and he wore ripped jeans, a shirt with slightly too deep of a V-neck, one-too-many earrings in one ear and a worn, leather jacket. His hair was brushed cleanly (rather nerdy-looking, compared to the rest of him) and you could see a book-bag hanging loosely off his shoulder, almost like he was trying too hard to be cool. 

First impressions could be totally wrong, and he still had the eyes of a kid, but something felt off about him. Not usually the type to come into this place. 

A highschool student playing hooky, perhaps? 

You shook it off, giving him a polite bow. “Good afternoon! Feel free to sit anywhere you like and I’ll be with you in a minute.” You recited the spiel perfectly, a pleasant smile on your face. 

The man—or more so, boy—gave you a once-over. “Will do,” he replied a smirk playing on his lips. 

You groaned internally. “Oh, great,” you grumbled under your breath. “This is gonna be fun.” You grabbed a menu, setting aside your uneasy thoughts.

The customer’s comfort always comes first. It was basically a law in the business of serving. 

“Hi,” you said, trying to sound as naturally friendly as possible. “Anything I can get you?” 

The boy propped his chin up against his palm. “Yeah, there is actually,” he answered smoothly. He gestured behind him. “You see those guys outside, waiting by the door?”

You glanced to the front window. Sure enough, there were four of five boys, similarly dressed, peering in through the window, seemingly making playful jabs at each other. “Yeah,” you said. “And what about them?” 

“Well, those are my friends,” he said, “and they dared me to come in here and kiss you.” 

You almost laughed. “I’m sorry—what? Could you repeat that?” 

“They dared me to kiss you,” he chuckled, giving a charming smile. “Crazy, right?” 

You nodded exaggeratedly. “Yeah, actually, it’s pretty crazy. Borderline disgusting.” 

His smile dropped a little. “That’s a little harsh.” He shook his head, trying to ignore the discreet insult. “So! Do you think you’ll help me? I actually have a lot of money riding on this. Not to mention, pride.” 

You gave a nervous chuckle. “Sorry, I guess I’m just not in a very giving mood today. I don’t really feel like helping you save money. Or your pride, sir.”

He frowned. “What?”

You shrugged. “That’s just the way life goes, I guess. But! If you’d like, you can still order something and I’d be happy to get it for you—”

He stood up, grabbing your waist. “Oh, come on,” he said. “What do you have to lose?” The other boys could be seen hooting and hollering from outside. 

You pushed his hand away. You were done playing nice. “I’m sorry, sir, but you need to leave.”

He narrowed his gaze. “Listen here—” 

“She said it was time for you to go, I think.” 

You recognized that voice immediately. It was the same voice you’d been hearing once every week for the past three months, whenever he ordered his Americano and biscuit, or when you made pointless small-talk together.

You were so grateful for that voice. The voice of the Question Mark Man. 

You felt a warm hand wrap around your waist. You tried to jump away, but he held it firmly. Not in a threatening way, but protective. 

“You asked what she has to lose,” the familiar stranger began, “and I have an answer.” He flashed that signature smile. “Her boyfriend’s temper.” 

Your jaw dropped, as well as the boy’s. This was the kind of scenario you’d only seen in dramas, and now it was happening in real life. You weren’t quite sure if it was surreal, or insane. 

He leaned in close to your ear. “Kiss me,” he whispered.

Your eyes widened. “Are you out of your damn mind?” you hissed back in a hushed tone. “We don’t even know each other! Besides, he wouldn’t even buy that—”

He cut you off by placing a chaste kiss on your cheek, never once breaking eye-contact with the boy. 

Despite his brutish outward appearance, the boy flushed a bright red, slowly backing away towards the door. “I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered before running out. 

The mystery man chuckled, still so close to you that you could feel the vibrations. “I think he bought it okay,” he said, slipping his arms away from your waist. “Sorry I kinda had to man-handle you back there.” 

You were still dazed and confused, your eyebrows furrowed. “It’s... fine,” you finally settled on. “It’s fine. Why did you help me, though? You didn’t have to do that.” 

For a moment, he looked a little shy, shuffling his feet. “Well... I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” 

Now it was your turn to be embarrassed. Your cheeks lit up immediately. “Oh my gosh,” you stuttered. “I’m so sorry about that. I swear I’m not—”

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” he interrupted with a small grin, “but I guess you haven’t seen the way I look at you.” 

You were left confused again. “Excuse me?” He gestured to the far back corner. Your eyes followed where his finger pointed, eyes widening in wonder.

He’d finished it. The three-month-awaited art piece was finally done. 

And it was you. 

At first, you wouldn’t believe it. That was far too pretty to be you, wasn’t it? The hair was too nice, the smile was too princess-like, the eyes were too emotional. That couldn’t be you...

Yet it was. 

You slowly looked back at him, flattered and shocked all at once. “Well, okay then,” you laughed. “To whom do I thank for the amazing likeness?” 

He gave a giddy smile. “Seunghyub,” he said. “Lee Seunghyub.”

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N.Flying is one of the most fun and extra groups I’ve ever had the pleasure of stanning, so writing our multi-talented leader in this type of setting was very different for me. Different, but fun. We all want a potato in shining armor, don’t we?

Hey, Anon! Thanks for the request! I had so much fun with it and I hope you love it a lot. Feel free to stop by anytime!