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#what am I doing with my life at this point
astonmartinii · 1 day
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girl, so confusing | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x fem norris!reader
will "norstappen" will work it out on the remix?
note: obvs everything here is hearsay and all a big fat joke i am just venting my frustrations with whatever the fuck lando just said after that race
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR |
- part of the brother's best friend series -
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 783,049 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: we don't just let people by because we have a big lead in the championship (that's actually how you end up with a big lead) btw.
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user5: WELCOME BACK OUTWARDLY BITCHY Y/N I'VE MISSED YOU
user6: the atmosphere shifted, my skin has cleared and the birds are singing
user7: i didn't think it would be against her own brother BUT WE'LL TAKE WHAT WE CAN GET
maxverstappen1: can you do all my media for me - you give a lot better sound bites than i ever could
yourusername: all my sound bites would be completely unusable
yourusername: cause if they thought you had a potty mouth oh boy they have another thing coming
danielricciardo: it's true i was around her when she stubbed her toe once, it was like shakespeare but concerning
alexalbon: or that one referee against chelsea, i've never heard so many creative insults
maxverstappen1: okay but my thoughts exactly
yourusername: twitter would cancel me baby
maxverstappen1: everyone wants cunty f1 back until i make contact and you ... open your mouth?
user8: not like all of lando's friends either being in the likes or the comments
user9: bro is fighting for his life in the GC after that press run
user10: i think y/n got all the sass cause lando that was not the diva statement you thought it was
landonorris: before you delete i already sent it to mum
yourusername: i'm not deleting it you big baby you gotta stand on your words bro
landonorris: nuh uh
yourusername: i can feel you pouting YOUR 24 YEARS OLD
landonorris: but i'm still your baby brother
yourusername: not with this PR strategy
landonorris: MAX WAS IN THE WRONG
yourusername: 1. i watched the ten laps before lando i'm not dumb 2. i support his rights and wrongs 3. you still won driver of the day and i thought that's what meant the most to you
user11: oh she gagged him
user12: can we get a rupaul's drag race reading challenge in f1 but it's just y/n reading the drivers PLEASE
charles_leclerc: literally all you have to do is spend 10 minutes with her in the paddock
maxverstappen1
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 1,304,599
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maxverstappen1: still got my favourite norris on side and that's all that matters
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user13: someone check on lando cause DIVA IS DOWN
user14: diva is dead and buried at this point
user15: they're dancing on diva's grave
landonorris: DO YOU PEOPLE MIND ???
maxverstappen1: who is this random fan in my comments?
landonorris: i'm definitely not a fan of yours after this weekend
maxverstappen1: oh then let me add you to my block list
charles_leclerc: i thought unfollowing each other after a race in austria was our thing max :(
maxverstappen1: yes that's why i'm going to block him not just unfollow
charles_leclerc: oh good 😊
yourusername: and that's why i'm ready to get rid of the name altogether
maxverstappen1: i think you suit verstappen so much more anyway
yourusername: i'm ready when you are
landonorris: really? ENGAGEMENT TALK ON A POST THAT DISSES ME
yourusername: a diss? you don't want your sister to be happy? or am i not your sister anymore since max isn't your friend anymore?
landonorris: IT WAS ONE QUOTE LIKE TEN MINUTES AFTER BEING CRASHED OUT OF THE LEAD
yourusername: * second-place
landonorris: STOP IT
yourusername: don't dish it if you can't take it buddy
user16: not this brocedes era for max and lando
yourusername: @lewishamilton @nicorosberg i am so sorry they're minimising your trauma like this
user17: so real of you
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yourusername
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tagged: maxverstappen1 & landonorris
yourusername: when you forgot that you invited your boyfriend to stay at the family home before the british grand prix and arranged a big family dinner and the flight back to england and your boyfriend and brother decide to try and kill each other in the race and have now 'ended' their friendship.... relatable!
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user21: the footage... GIVE IT TO ME, SHOW IT TO ME RACHEL
yourusername: most excruiting three hours of my life boys are so dramatic
user22: shock horror mad max and norrif are holding grudges
yourusername: IF i didn't have the patience of a saint i would've gone mad max on their asses and mclaren would've been down a driver
user23: out here threatening the victim and not the aggressor
yourusername: now why would i attack my trophy husband?
landonorris: i didn't make the plane ride awkward HE MADE THE PLANE RIDE AWKWARD
yourusername: we tried to nap but the heat from your death glare kept us up
landonorris: THAT'S NOT MY FAULT
yourusername: it's kind of expressly your fault, you could've taken your anger out on a pillow or a 12 piece wing meal like a normal person
landonorris: max's jet doesn't offer wings
maxverstappen1: get your own jet then
yourusername: @ryanair we have a new customer for you
landonorris: NO I'M SORRY
maxverstappen1: finally
landonorris: just for your jet not having wings, you're still the one in the wrong overall
user24: i fear lando may not see his sister back in the mclaren garage for the rest of the season
user25: i mean she looks better in blue anyway
liked by maxverstappen1
oscarpiastri: can we please move on lando your attitude is stinking up the gaff
landonorris: 1. wtf osc you're meant to be on my side 2. where the fuck did you learn that
oscarpiastri: while you've been sulking in your childhood bedroom i've been taking in the normal norris hospitality
yourusername: he'll get over it he did this all the time when we were younger - he'll come back and join when dinner is finished
landonorris: TELL MAX TO APOLOGISE
yourusername: i guess you don't want any of these profiteroles then ...
maxverstappen1: i'm eating them all lol
landonorris: FINE GOD DAMN
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landonorris
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liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 1,674,099 others
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landonorris: i think i just got gentle parented (brought matching jellycats) into forgiving max
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user28: about fucking time
user29: baby had his first real dose of wheel to wheel racing for a win and wanted to throw away a friendship
user30: good thing his sister never knows when to shut the fuck up and humbled these men cause lord knows without her lando would still be chatting shit in the media
yourusername: someones got to make sure lando doesn't embarrass himself (idk where his PR department went but mclaren need to run me my money)
maxverstappen1: girl, so confusing when you literally forget all about it as soon as we got you the jellycat you wanted
landonorris: i am a little brother first and foremost
yourusername: hard on the little you've been acting like a whole ass five year old
landonorris: have you ever thought that maybe i'm acting out because i miss you now you've moved in with max and wanted matching jellycats so we always have a part of each other??
yourusername: awww really???
maxverstappen1: that's actually kind of cute
maxverstappen1: and a hunk of BULLSHIT
landonorris: FINE I'M PETTY BUT I WANTED TO WIN SUE ME
maxverstappen1: well i also wanted to win so that's not the serve you think it is
yourusername: you only 'forgave' him because you saw that max was playing padel with charles
landonorris: umm yes obviously, i can't let lestappen be a real thing
yourusername: why not that's literally my dream threesome
yourusername: WHAT WHO SAID THAT
yourusername: lando i think your comment section is haunted
charles_leclerc: well i'm ... flattered
landonorris: you can have lestappen you weirdo
maxverstappen1: @charles_leclerc stop being flattered i don't share
yourusername: heheheheh
landonorris: that much is obvious... you couldn't let me win once?
maxverstappen1: no!
yourusername: no!
fin: here's a lil quick one today cause i had some free time! i am working on guilty as sin p4 but i'm so so so busy and i do be going to silverstone on wednesday xx hope you enjoyed !!!
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sunderwight · 1 day
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Headcanon that Shen Yuan was hotter than Shen Qingqiu, actually.
Like yeah SQQ being a cultivator gave him a boost to enough attributes + being in a stallion novel where everyone is either unrealistic hot or dog's butt ugly got the Shen Qingqiu body extra points, and he wasn't bad looking to begin with. Plus not being ill is vastly more important to the new Shen Qingqiu than those extra hotness points (Without a Cure notwithstanding). But part of the reason why he's kind of like, meh, at least I'm not hideous or anything, is because Shen Yuan's original body was a knock out.
I also like him as chronically ill, and, as many people know, beauty standards and sustained suffering are not as incompatible as they should be. Shen Yuan was conventionally attractive in part because conventional beauty standards seem to want everyone slowly dying all the time. But even setting that aside, the man had flawless bone structure, an appealing figure, captivating eyes, and the kind of voice that stopped people in their tracks.
All of which was a contributing factor to his antisocial lifestyle, actually. Despite the fact that Shen Yuan does enjoy company and requires a certain baseline of social enrichment for his enclosure, his internalized homophobia and closeting did not play well with overtures from interested parties (regardless of gender). The only way to minimize the odds of him being asked out on dates was to essentially become a shut-in, especially since even Shen Yuan can only make so many excuses before he himself starts to notice that he's going to a lot of effort to avoid specifically that avenue of socialization. Far better to just remove himself from any risk of it, and then vocally lament that oh no he's just too much of a nerd to get anywhere with women!
Anyway this largely doesn't matter much outside of sheer comedy potential for any situation where SY gets his old body/life back. Like imagine a reveal scenario where the System is going to transport them back to their old lives.
Shang Qinghua: well bro I guess this is gonna be the ultimate test of love, right?
Shen Yuan: what do you mean?
Shang Qinghua: our husbands are gonna see what we looked like back before we were glorious cultivators! they're going to have to track us down in our mundane, kinda shitty pre-transmigration lives! it's gonna be at least a little embarrassing, right?
Shen Yuan: *gets his old body back*
Shang Qinghua, normal human with average looks: ...
Shen Yuan, exemplary 11/10: ?
Shang Qinghua: what. the fuck?? bro what the fuck why are you hot???
Shen Yuan: don't make it weird
Shang Qinghua: make it weird??? why were you sitting at home reading my shitty novel when you could have been out there building your own harem???
Shen Yuan: stop exaggerating
Shang Qinghua: oh my god you've always been like this. this is it, isn't it? it wasn't even brain damage from the transmigration or something--
Shen Yuan: hey
Shang Qinghua: --you've just always been completely unaware, haven't you? every time I wrote a beautiful woman who didn't know her own appeal you'd be jumping down my throat--
Shen Yuan: because that's a stupid trope--!
Shang Qinghua: --JUMPING DOWN MY THROAT EXACTLY LIKE THAT but this whole time THIS WHOLE TIME it wasn't even a glow-up issue, you've just been that, personified, yourself--
Shen Yuan: look I know I'm not ugly but I'm not I'm hardly that good-looking
Shang Qinghua: YOU ARE NEVER ALLOWED TO CRITICIZE THAT TROPE AGAIN! oh my god. how many broken hearts did you leave behind when you died?!
Shen Yuan: none, I wasn't even seeing anyone--
Shang Qinghua: yeah full offense but I am nottt taking your word for that. I bet you had a harem you didn't know about in this lifetime too. I bet you had a fan club, like an anime prince
Shen Yuan: *mumbling*
Shang Qinghua: what was that?
Shen Yuan: I said... only in high school...
Shang Qinghua: oh my god
Shen Yuan: it wasn't a big deal!
Shang Qinghua: *frantically trying to see if he can find any trace of it on the internet now*
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idiopathicsmile · 2 days
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School Gymnastics: A Tragicomedy
So one day when we were in third grade, our P.E. teacher divided us into girls and boys. (I don’t remember what the boys had to do. Wrestling? Tackle football? I don’t know, probably not at age nine, but that’s not the point. Gladiatorial combat? I still don’t really understand kids’ sports.)
What matters for this story is that all the girls had to do gymnastics. Now—and I suspect this won’t surprise you if you know literally anything about me—I was always terrible at any form of school athletics. I am intensely, almost impressively uncoordinated. This doesn’t affect my life much at 36, but it was often a miserable way to be a kid. The only playground game I liked was playing pretend, because when you are playing pretend, you don’t have a bunch of people ostensibly on your side screaming in your ear, “Pretend faster! Pretend over there! Pretend with greater accuracy!”
Anyway, gymnastics and my clumsy, doughy little body. I couldn’t do a cartwheel. I couldn’t do a backwards somersault. I couldn't do any of it. We had an entire unit on this business and I literally did not learn how to even safely attempt a single move besides the log roll (lie flat and roll sideways on your belly). In retrospect, this seems like maybe it was in part a teaching problem, not a me problem, but that’s actually not the point either.
The point is, at the end of the unit, we were told to divide ourselves into little teams and choreograph a group gymnastics routine. My group, faced with my long list of limitations (more limitation than girl, really) decide my role will be to just forwards-somersault around the rest of the group as they do their moves. (This is itself kind of embarrassing but trust me, it is but the appetizer.) My friend Ashley has the Lion King soundtrack and we all agree that it is a great choice. The movie has only come out a couple of years earlier, and it of course features some funny, peppy options. 'Hakuna Matata'? 'I Just Can't Wait to Be King'? It's all coming together.
Carried on a wave of youthful enthusiasm, none of us even think to double-check which track Ashley has picked. Foreshadowing!
So the day of the performance comes. Another group goes right before us. They had picked “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls, which was a huge hit at the time. I mean, it still is because it’s a classic, but then it was big and new. They step onto the mat and immediately begin to do choreographed dance moves, which they have worked into their routine. We had not thought of this. Oops. Dance moves, of course! So they incorporate the necessary gymnastics, it goes over really well, the energy is high, and now it’s my group’s turn.
I take my place at the edge of the mat, the mat we are required to stay on for the length of the piece. Ashley cues up the track she’d chosen.
A song starts up. Instantly, I recognize it from the movie. It is the very slow instrumental music that plays when Simba realizes his dad is dead.
‘Well, this is not optimal,’ I think. I've been on this planet for nine years; I can see that much. But it’s too late to change the track, and so I tell myself, ‘It’s okay. I’m a performer. I can sell this.’ I put on an extremely solemn face and begin to execute a series of the world’s saddest somersaults.
Friends, when I say “sad” I mean it, in every possible sense of the word. Picture a nine year old with the gravest possible affect, determinedly doing somersaults to the slowest, most serious music she can imagine, in a careful ring around her friends who have actually learned any gymnastics whatsoever. Okay, now as the music starts to pick up and get more hopeful, imagine she gets real dizzy and in front of everyone, she rolls all the way directly off the mat, careening dangerously towards the assembled students.
Somehow, I roll myself back onto the mat, we survive what feels like hours of humiliation, we stagger away, and I blessedly avoid adding “puking my guts out in front of all of my peers” to my very short list of gymnastics tricks.
Later, I asked Ashley what in the world possessed her to choose that song.
“It didn’t have any words,” she said.
(There was absolutely no rule against using songs that had lyrics.)
Anyway, that’s why being an adult is better than being a kid.
I may have to do laundry and make my own dinner and wrestle with more complex existential angst, but you know what I haven’t been asked to do in like 26 years? Somersault for three minutes straight to the musical shorthand for “this cartoon lion cub has no choice but to process the weight of unimaginable grief for his dead dad.” And you know what? If I live another 50 years, I can be pretty confident nobody will ask me to do it then, either.
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literaila · 3 days
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Can we get a scene where reader and satoru get sent to the principals office? I think it would be so chaotic
“y/n,” satoru coos, poking at your cheek. “c’mon, i know you want to say something.”
you slap his hand away, refusing to look at him.
“you’re scowling, and your mouth keeps twitching,” your face hardens even more and satoru sighs. “just let it out. it’s just us, you know? no need to feel self conscious around little old me.”
you let his stupid arrogant voice ring out, crossing your arms.
your eyes are drooping, your neck is sore and you feel… furious, idiotic, nervous, and most of all—furious.
this is all gojo’s stupid fault, with his stupid ideas, his stupid sunglasses, and his stupid gps.
seriously, how dumb can one person be?
you’ve gotten in trouble with him before—for bickering during training, or stealing his snacks, or being late for dinner because someone forgot how to tie his shoes—but it’s never been this bad.
yaga’s never had to step out of the classroom for so long to… what? avoid a heart attack? keep his head from exploding?
so if you’re ignoring satoru and secretly plotting his demise, who can blame you?
if nanami were here, he would approve.
gojo groans. “just say something,” he pleads. “i hate the silent treatment. i might die. do you want me to die?”
and maybe it’s his tone of voice, or the innocence he’s showboating, or his mental incompetence, but you break.
“go to hell,” you hiss, still staring at the chalk board.
damn it.
he grins at you, pulling on the sleeve of your shirt. “that’s not very friendly,” he tells you. “what would haibara say?”
maybe you can’t look at him because his face is another one of your breaking points. if only yaga was as susceptible to his grin as you.
“he would tell you to stop antagonizing me,” you slump down in your seat, feet tapping against the floor anxiously.
“what? i wouldn’t do that to my favorite underclassman.”
“this is all your fault.”
satoru snorts. “i cant even drive,” he argues. “and you’re the one who made the key.”
“only because i was listening to you! you told me no one would even notice.”
“i don’t recall.”
“‘c’mon, y/n,’” you mock, “‘it’ll be fine. everyone’s sleeping. don’t you wanna go for a joyride?’”
“who is that supposed to be?”
“i can’t believe you.”
satoru sighs. “how is this my fault? you’re the one who couldn’t sleep.”
you finally turn to him, eyes sharper than daggers. his smile can go to hell too.
“i hope you’ve enjoyed your life so far because it’s going to be over as soon as we get out of here.”
“go ahead and try, sweetheart.”
“i will kill you—“
satoru shakes his head. then he holds his hands up in defense. “you try and help a friend,” he says, so pitifully. “you try to be nice and instead of thank you, you get threatened.”
you lean towards him unconsciously. everything about satoru is a antithesis to evolution, to karma. “you want me to thank you for getting me potentially expelled?”
he laughs. “you’re worried about yaga? that pushover? when me and suguru broke that wall he just told us that curfew was an hour earlier.”
“well we didn’t break a wall, you dimwit! we stole a car!”
satoru taps at the table, snorting. “dimwit? that’s what you came up with?”
“it’s four in the morning!”
“is that why you’re so moody?”
“i am not moody,” you kick at his leg. “you’re just annoying.”
if nothing else, at least the bickering is a nice distraction from the actual crisis at hand.
in a couple of days you’ll probably appreciate this moment for what it is. appreciate gojo for caring about your insomnia and pulling you away from your hell of a world for at least a couple of hours.
you’ll recognize him for what he is. you’ll remember that the only reason you agreed to a late night drive with him is because of those eyes, because he smiled at you when he asked and—
you’ll look back at this fondly someday.
but for right now you would like to blame gojo for everything and punch him in his stupid face.
he nudges you back. “you’re freaking out about this for no reason.”
“we’re locked in a classroom waiting for yaga’s verdict,” you grind out, “he dragged you in by your ear.”
gojo waves a hand. he leans back in the chair, hands behind his head. “he’ll yell at us for an hour and then make us clean the common room.”
“i saw a vein on his forehead.”
“that’s always been there.”
you sigh and close your eyes. “i’m going to be homeless. i’m gonna be kicked out and i’ll have to work at a gas station for the rest of my life and i’ll probably be fired and i’ll never amount to anything.”
satoru laughs.
you whine, laying across the desk. “i’m never going to see shoko again.”
“i’m sure she’ll visit you at the gas station. you know how much she smokes.”
you make a face. “i’ll have to find some old rich guy to marry.”
“just marry me instead,” satoru suggests, easily.
you give him a blank stare. “you’re already dead in this scenario.”
he yawns, looking around. then he turns back to you. “are you really only going to miss shoko? what about me?”
“i’ll go to your funeral, i guess.”
satoru pouts. “i was helping you! i’m older and wiser. just trust me on this.”
“i trusted you when you said there was no way for yaga to find out.”
“okay…” satoru licks his lips. “so i make one mistake.”
you glare at him. “one?”
he grins. “at least if we get expelled, we’ll be expelled together.”
“are you kidding? me and one of the three special grade sorcerers? you’ll get a slap on the wrist.”
satoru contemplates this for a moment, and you suddenly realize that he looks.. tired. did he stay up just to entertain you? should you feel bad for getting him in trouble because he wanted to make you feel better? should you care about him at all?
he taps at his chin, another smile breaking his face. “you bring up a good point. i’ll just threaten yaga if he tries to kick you out.”
you groan, rubbing your eyes, deciding you don’t care if he’s tired or not. “i genuinely don’t know how you’ve survived this long.”
“well, it’s—“
and then the classroom door opens.
both of you sit up—because despite whatever satoru might say, you know he’s just feigning nonchalance. if anything, he’s at least dreading a lecture.
its just instinctual when you open your mouth, really.
“it’s all gojo’s fault—“
“she’s the one who crashed the car—“
you both turn to each other simultaneously, words clashing into one another.
satoru frowns and you point a finger at him. “it’s called parking you asshole—“
and, okay. maybe its a little bit your fault.
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clockwayswrites · 20 hours
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So far this file is called 'birdritch'. Those of you who follow my art tumblr might know where this is going. I needed something light to write, been a low day. There has been zero editing or reading through and it is past 2am, sorry and enjoy! (Don't need any typos pointed out, ty.)
---
“You are supposed to be home.”
Danny blinked up from his work to find Lucius Fox standing in the doorway of the lab. The man had the sport of expression one wore around a child who had just done something disappointing.
(Danny was used to the look, even if it had been a long time since he'd been a kid. Or seen his parents, for that mater.)
“Okay, but,” Danny started, “we agreed that I could start at ten and take my eight hours and one for lunch—”
“A mandatory one hour for lunch away from your desk,” Lucius interrupted.
“Yes, yes, I’ve been doing that! I’ve been eating out on the rooftop garden or even leaving the building and eating out or taking lunch to the park. I’ve been behaving, Lucius, I promise.”
Lucius raised a judgmental brow. “It’s after eight, Danny.”
“What? No. I have an alarm on my phone and everything… okay, well, that only works if my phone is charged.” Danny jabbed uselessly at his phone screen. He followed the charger, which was plugged in, all the way to the wall. He resisted the urge to let his head fall against the wall. “I guess Leslie fried the outlet again or something. I’m sorry, Lucius.”
“It’s fine, Danny,” Lucius said, “but only because, one, I know you have been trying, and two, I am going to buy you the most embarrassing alarm clock I can find and mount it to something in this lab. Now it is late and I am going home and so are you, Mr. Fenton.”
“Yes sir, Mr. Fox,” Danny said and made an exaggerate show of packing up his backpack, dead phone and all.
Lucius gave a little snort at the antics, but left with a ‘get home safe, Danny’. After his boss was gone, Danny took the time to actually make sure everything was in his bag and secure. He still didn’t get why he couldn’t just work late, but apparently WE had something of an insistence of work life balance. According to Lucius, Danny crossed the line too often and so was being kept in line. (Danny didn’t think mention he didn’t have much of a life, literally and otherwise, would help his case.)
Still, Danny mused as he stepped inside the empty elevator, the rules did keep him from becoming his parents. And that was a very, very good thing! Being a mad scientist in Gotham usually ended up landing someone in Arkham. It was just that after the chaos that Danny grew up with, going back to his empty apartment was depressing. It wasn’t as if Danny never got out and did things, it was just that all those things were mostly on the weekend. Most days he just didn’t have a reason to go back to his place.
There was no getting out of it tonight, the great and powerful Fox had spoken and Danny knew better than to try and sneak back up. He lifted his hands over his head, stretching as the elevator descended the last few floors. Oh well, at least it was before ten. He could still grab something on the way home and have a full, warm meal to take his pain meds on. By the pull along his forearm he would need them.
“Night, Bill,” Danny said as he passed the security guard who was on the evening shift. He got another ‘get home safe’ in response and gave a little wave in reply over his shoulder.
Even after the few years in Gotham, it still amused Danny how much everyone wished everyone else some sort of safe travels here. As much as Gotham was a city of hardened realists, there still was so much hope about it. Hope people got home safely, that the Bats would get where they were need in time, that the city would rebuild again and again and again. The undercurrent of hope was so strong that Danny could practically feel it moving through the city like a river.
It had been one of the reasons Danny had taken the job.
He could use hope.
He also had been very careful not to look too closely into it all. While Danny’s early life may have been dominated by the occult, he tried to stay away from it these days outside of the necessary visits to the Realm for his health. As much as the Far Frozen was full of ghost yetis, Frostbite was still a being of science and being there felt more like a cold vacation to his weird relatives than anything else those days.
Danny was actually worried that he was getting close to needing another visit. He shouldn’t, not yet. He wasn’t actually due back for another three months, but the thought of visiting Frostbite had been pulling at the back of Danny’s mind. The most annoying part of it all, is that there wasn’t any concrete reason that Danny felt he needed to go, just a lot of little things: the ache was deeper in his bones, he’d been missing noticing little things, his near constant vertigo was worse, and, oddest of all, he had been feeling chilled.
Maybe he should just take a long weekend and go for a quick visit.
Lucius would undoubtedly approve of the break.
Tomorrow, Danny would ask tomorrow.
(As long as he remembered.)
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sansaorgana · 1 day
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hii 😊 can you please write benny x yn where she thinks he’s a player so she doesn’t want to give him a chance and go on a date with someone else and that drives him crazy and he does everything for her to see him differently, even asks kathy to put in a good word for him
hi! 💝 I know you sent it like 2 hours ago – I swear, I am not insane but I was itching so badly to write something about Benny that... it's already here 👀 as much as I adore the fics with innocent, sweet Readers – my Reader talks back 😇🤭 I hope it's fine 😘
[ I haven't abandoned the three requests from my inbox from the last time, I promise ]
requests for benny are open 🥺🎀
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Benny Cross was an insufferable guy. He was showing up at your diner nearly every day and always asking for the same thing with the same smug smile on his pretty full lips – and always getting your annoyed eye-rolls each time. Yeah, he was pretty and you wouldn’t deny that. And yeah, you could see why so many girls saw the appeal. Bad boys were in fashion now… Well, actually, where had they not been? But you didn’t want to end up as a girl in trouble. Perhaps you were just an ordinary waitress but you still didn’t want to ruin your life for a player. And you couldn’t understand why he wanted you so badly.
“I think it’s because you turned him down,” Kathy explained to you the other day. She was your friend and recently she had also been strangely associated with Benny’s motorbike gang – The Vandals. Ever since her breakup, you could not recognise her, honestly.
“I turned him down, exactly,” you emphasised. “Why can’t guys learn that no means no?” You sighed.
“Oh, please, it must feel… Flattering to be chased by a guy like Benny, right?” Kathy giggled and you looked away, trying not to reveal that yeah, she was right.
“Listen, I just don’t want to end up like my cousin. She had a one night stand with this bad boy at college and guess what? She had to drop out, now she’s a single baby mama and the guy? God only knows where. Some say he married another chick in Nevada,” you explained to Kathy.
“But you’re not in college,” she pointed out as her eyes widened and you just rolled your eyes.
Jesus, what was going on with her these days?
You couldn't know that it was Benny himself telling her to "spread the propaganda" so you'd be more willing to finally agree to go out with him. You couldn't know that you were driving this man crazy – driving him crazier than his motorbike. He would wake up at night all sweaty and all he could think about was you.
You were a tough cookie and you were a challenge – that was for sure. But Benny knew it was more than that. He already knew that his desire would not disappear after claiming you. In fact, it would only grow once he'd get a taste. He was serious about you and he was desperate for you to see it.
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When Marcus Lane asked you out, you were speechless. You were walking out of a flower store with a fresh bouquet to put on your grandfather’s grave and he whistled at you.
You turned around and raised an eyebrow at the guy leaning on his car. And God, what a car that was… A shiny, black Cadillac that made your eyes sparkle.
“Hi!” You waved at him. “You’re back from college,” you pointed out.
“Yeah,” he nodded at you and lit a cigarette. He offered you one but you shook your head. “Couldn’t wait to visit my neighbourhood. I’m staying with my ma until the end of summer,” he explained. “Then I got a job for myself in New York City,” he bragged so casually.
You had always thought he was full of himself and full of shit, too, but out of all the guys in your high school year he had been the one who would succeed most likely. Apparently, it was true. He was going places.
“And how’s Camilla?” You asked him.
“We broke up,” he winced. “What you doing tonight?”
You blinked a few times and fixed your skirt. Marcus Lane asking you out?
“Nothin’,” you answered and tilted your head.
“Wanna go and see a picture?” Marcus asked.
“Yeah!” You nodded, not even asking what picture.
“Still living with your ma?”
“Yeah,” you answered.
“I’ll pick you up at six,” he winked at you and you only nodded at him before walking away, not being able to hide a smile.
On your way back from the graveyard, you stopped by the laundry to tell Kathy the news but she didn’t look excited.
“He’s a knobhead, isn’t he? Always has been,” she shook her head.
“Wow, gee, thanks for being happy for me! You know he’s goin’ places and… He’s gonna be somebody,” you couldn’t help a grin.
“Don’t even start,” Kathy put her hands on her hips but you kept on a dreamy expression, so she snapped her fingers right in front of your face. “Guys like Marcus Lane do not date girls like us, wake up.”
“Why would he ask me out then?” You got defensive because your feelings and pride were hurt – mostly because you had a feeling Kathy was right.
“Because he’s back for the summer and bored? He saw you and thought he could play with you for a while before he leaves forever? Because he thinks a silly girl he remembers from high school might be an easy fuck for the summer?” Kathy asked and asked as your anxiety grew.
“Wow, thanks,” you got angry because you hated how right she could be. And sometimes you hated how honest she was instead of feeding your delusions. “I’m going out with him tonight and I’m not gonna sleep with him,” you told her before walking out to go back home and prepare for the night.
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You wore a red polka dot top and tight jeans for the date instead of a dress. Marcus didn’t comment but he looked a little disappointed and you could see that on his face. He kept staring at your thighs as he drove you to the cinema, which increased your anxiety that Kathy could had been right indeed… More than you had expected.
You went to see Bonnie and Clyde and after the movie, Marcus insisted on taking you to a club in the neighbourhood. It was one of those places you would never go to alone but with a man around, you felt safer. At least you should feel this way. But something about Marcus was not right. Why would a proper guy like him even want to take you to a club like that? Perhaps because he was seeing you as a girl like that. You didn’t disagree, though. The idea of getting free drinks was tempting.
“Looks like some of those dirty bums have a meeting here tonight,” he murmured to himself as you walked inside and you sighed at the sight of The Vandals themselves.
The whole place was full of cigarette smoke and it stank of sweat, leather and grease.
“I hate those punks,” Marcus winced. “Sit here, I’ll get us something to drink,” he winked at you as he sat you down by one of the tables and you nodded,
He walked away, without even asking you what you wanted. You looked around, feeling out of place and then you spotted him… Benny Cross by the pool table. You quickly looked the other way but he glanced in your direction and smirked.
You pretended to be very fascinated by the posters on the wall but he sat by the table next to yours and kept grinning at you with his flashy smile, his muscles all on display as he rested his arms on the chair’s backrest.
Seeing you there, it made his heart skip a beat. And those tight blue jeans, that red top... Benny was smug for a moment, thinking that you finally decided to hang out with him. He had been inviting you to this club many times before.
However, he quickly realised that you weren' there alone. And the guy you came with made him feel sick in his stomach. Not only because he looked like a typical piece of shit that would take advantage of a girl like you... But also because this guy represented everything that Benny was not. And it was making him feel insecure at the moment. Of course your standards were higher than a guy like him. That was one of the reasons why he liked you so much.
Still, he decided to play his little game and annoy you a little.
Marcus came back with two drinks in his hand and he looked Benny up and down before placing a drink in front of you.
“That punk bothering you?” He asked – quite bravely, you had to admit. But Benny remained the same as if he was a statue.
“For weeks now,” you chuckled and watched Marcus take a seat in front of you, still glancing angrily at Benny on your right. 
“Is he stupid or somethin’?” Marcus asked.
“It’s fine. Let’s just pretend he’s not here,” you shrugged your arms.
In fact, you enjoyed it. And you wanted to pretend to like Marcus more than you did so Benny would finally realise you were not interested.
Still… You couldn’t help an odd feeling of safety now when he was sitting next to you and some part of you didn’t want him to walk away and leave you alone with Marcus.
“So, what do you think about the movie?” Marcus asked and sipped on his drink as you sipped on yours. Benny raised an eyebrow at you.
“We were in the cinema to watch Bonnie and Clyde,” you informed him quickly as if he was in the audience and you were an actress in the theatre but he was late and you wanted him to catch on. He nodded his head like a little boy and Marcus gritted his teeth. “Well,” you addressed your date now as you fixed your hair nonchalantly. “I adored it. And Warren Beatty was beautiful as always.”
“I don’t like him,” Marcus commented. “And I didn’t like the movie much. My favourite part was when they got killed.”
“Why?” You asked. It was already getting difficult to pretend to like him. And Benny seemed to be interested by his answer too – he tilted his head.
“Because they were outlaws and a couple of twisted psychos!” Marcus got irritated – at Benny still being there and at you asking such silly questions with such obvious answers.
“Yeah, they were but there’s also some romanticism to it, don’t you think? That’s why they made a movie about them. And why did you even go to see a movie about people you despise so much?” You asked and sipped on your drink again.
“You can’t be serious. There’s nothing romantic about murdering people,” Marcus started sounding very patronising and you suddenly realised that Kathy had been right. So, so much. You were a silly girl in his eyes.
“Murdering – no. But the life they had. The love, the freedom on the road,” you tried to explain.
“You want freedom on the road? Ask one of those bums here to show you,” Marcus laughed with irony and he squinted his eyes at Benny. “What you still doing here, punk? How can I get it into your thick head that you’re not a part of this conversation? It’s my date,” he scoffed.
“It’s my girl,” Benny leaned back with a smug smile and your heart skipped a beat.
Usually, when he’d call you that, you would get angry. But now, when Marcus had been annoying you for the whole evening, you actually enjoyed that. Because Marcus’ face was priceless. He looked at you with disgust.
“Is this true?” He asked you. “What the hell is going on?”
But before you could answer, some drunk and loud biker entered the club loudly as he laughed out loud.
“Fuck, I’ve scratched some Cadillac in the front!” He announced and sat by the counter to order beer. You couldn’t help but chuckle at that and Marcus’ face went as red as tomato.
He stood up rapidly, gave you a furious look and then ran outside to check on his beloved car, surely. Not caring much about the fact he was leaving you alone with dangerous men swarming around.
“So…” Benny started lazily as he licked his lips before looking you up and down. “That’s your type?” He pointed his thumb at the door Marcus had just left through. “That why you didn’t want me to take you out?”
“Why did you do that?” You asked, genuinely and his face got serious now.
“I saw you sittin’ here all alone, for a moment I thought… You came here for me,” he admitted with a laugh. “Then I saw that guy and I thought to myself: Jesus, what an asshole. So, I wanted to watch,” he shrugged his arms and you couldn’t help but stare at the flexing muscles and all the tattoos.
“He’s a proper guy. Graduated from college and with a job waiting for him in New York City,” you explained.
“But you’re not a proper girl,” Benny pointed out with a grin and you suddenly got a flashback of Kathy telling you the same thing – that you were just a silly girl for Marcus, just an easy fuck for the summer… 
You stood up rapidly and Benny looked up with a confused look on his face but you ignored him and left the club, hoping Marcus was still there and you could explain to him that you weren’t Benny’s girl… Maybe he’d drive you home?
But Marcus wasn’t there anymore. The only vehicles in the parking lot were motorbikes. You sighed and started walking in the direction of the bus stop but the door opened behind you. You heard heavy footsteps and then the sound of lighting a cigarette. Turning around slightly, you spotted Benny following you.
“Just wanted to point out that proper girls don’t find Bonnie and Clyde romantic,” with a few big steps he was now walking next to you.
“It’s not the murdering aspect, gee, why do I have to explain it so many times?” You got irritated.
“I didn’t say anything ‘bout it. You said something about the freedom and the road. You ever been on the open road like that?” Benny asked and you already knew what he wanted to propose because he had been mentioning it many times before while flirting with you at the diner.
“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “I need a ride home,” you admitted and bit on your lower lip. “And no, I’ve never been. On the open road, I mean,” you added, feeling your cheeks heating up.
Benny didn’t say anything, he only nodded before throwing his cigarette on the ground and walking away to jump on his motorbike. He started the engine and patiently waited for you to finally join him. Feeling the rush of adrenaline going through your body, you clumsily sat behind him and he made the engine roar like a lion – a very sexy sound, you had to admit – but he didn’t start driving. You realised he was giving you a signal to hold onto something before he would drive away. It was considerate of him, you had to admit. Other guys would just drive away and laugh at your squealing. But Benny wanted you to be safe and for the second time on that night you realised that he was making you feel safe. Safer than a proper guy like Marcus – for sure. And you just didn’t know what to do with this information.
You wrapped your arms around his waist, told him your address and that was when the engine roared again but this time he drove away.
And God, something broke inside of you that moment. It was as if your brain chemistry changed completely. The speed, the wind in your hair, the freedom – this odd feeling that he could take you anywhere like this and you would go with him… To the point that when you spotted him taking a turn that led to your street, you nearly felt disappointed that he wasn’t “kidnapping” you. Perhaps in this moment you understood your cousin even – why had it been so tempting to risk everything for a handsome bad boy.
Benny parked the motorbike in front of your house and you could already spot your mum standing by the window upstairs and looking out through the curtain. You chuckled at the realisation you would have to explain to her how your date with Marcus ended with a guy like Benny taking you home.
“Thanks,” you only said as you got off the bike, still clinging to his leather jacket to make sure you wouldn’t trip and fall. You were a little breathless after that ride.
“And? What do you think?” He asked as he raised an eyebrow.
“It was… Okay,” you grinned, not wanting to give him satisfaction.
“Why do you tease me so much?” Benny sighed.
He was done with playing for now. He just wanted to know the answer. Perhaps it would finally make him give up. Or perhaps it would educate him on the matter how to flirt with you better. Either way, he just wanted the truth.
“Why do you insist so much? I mean, I ain’t nothing special to chase me around for weeks,” you shrugged your arms. “And don’t get me wrong – or actually do get me wrong, the hell do I care? – but I don’t want to be just another number in your book, Benny,” you explained and Benny thought to himself that he wished you could see yourself through his eyes.
“You’re a whole book, kitty,” he winked at you and you couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Sometimes his flirting had this effect on you whether you liked it or not. “And I can’t wait to read it all,” he added, encouraged by your reaction.
“You can read?” You asked, teasingly.
“I’m full of surprises,” he smirked.
“That I see,” you laughed. “Um… I should go now… My ma’s watching us.”
“I can see,” Benny nodded and looked up at the window upstairs. He waved his hand and you grabbed him by his wrist to pull it down.
“Stop it!” You kept laughing at him and then you realised your face was only a few inches away from his as he was still sitting on his motorbike, ready to drive away any given moment.
A short moment of silence occurred between you two and you just kept staring into each other’s eyes as playful smiles disappeared from your faces. You swallowed thickly and fixed his jacket, not knowing what to do with your hands.
“You have a shift tomorrow?” He broke the silence.
“In the evening,” you nodded.
“So… See you?” Benny asked, unsurely.
“See you,” you smiled at him and he smiled back, relieved. “And hey, thanks for… For being there for me when I was with the… With the asshole,” you lowered your voice and took a step back to give him space now – finally.
“No need to thank me,” he shrugged his arms. “It’s just the thing I do, ain’t it?”
You furrowed your brows at those words.
“Protectin’ my girl,” he winked at you and the engine roared, making you take a few more steps back. And then he drove away – just like that.
Shaking your head and hugging your own self to feel warmer, you walked to the front door of your house, biting on your lip and not being able to help a chuckle.
Apparently, Benny had already decided that you were his girl. And, apparently – you enjoyed it.
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MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST
234 notes · View notes
izzy-stuff-1 · 1 day
Text
𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃 - 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍
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choi soobin x afab!reader
summary: After you found out the smarty-pants in your class was in love with you you thought it would be fun to play around with him a bit, but things take a wrong turn when he is the only one you can text when you are horny and he doesn't hesitate and runs to you, making you feel better than any of your ex boyfriends could.
words count: 3.9k
warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, she/her pronouns used twice (in the texting part) sorry 🙏, oral, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (don't!!), cum eating, gentle sex, idk tbh
You glanced to your side, watching the black-haired boy on the other side of the classroom as he wrote down some notes. If you were to be honest, you weren’t paying any attention to what the teacher was saying, so you had no idea what he was writing down either. But it didn't matter anyway, you knew he would let you copy his notes later. 
It was one of the perks of having the class’s smarty-pants be in love with you. You chuckled when you saw him look your way too, smiling at him before you turned away again. 
“What's going on there?” The black-haired girl next to you asked, her eyebrow raised as she pointed at the male on the other side of the class. “Why do you two keep stealing glances at each other?” 
“You know Yeonjun, right?” You asked, watching as the girl next to you nodded. “Who doesn't,” your best friend scoffed. “What does he have to do with anything?” 
“Well, he is the one that told me last week our little nerdy here has a crush on me. It all makes sense now if you think about it. I couldn't wrap my head around why he would always send me the lesson notes when I asked for them but not to others. I told Ryan he could ask Soob because I thought he wouldn't have any problems with it, but it turns out he only sent them to me to get me to like him, or something,” You explained, watching as your best friend laughed quietly. 
“It's kind of cute though that he does that.” 
“But I don't want ‘cute’ anymore,” you rolled your eyes. “I want someone who can actually make me cum and not just stare at me questioning why I wouldn't finish as if he even tried.” 
“Okay, I know the last boy was a fail as fuck, literally, but who knows,” the black-haired girl shrugged. “You want to tell me you think he of all people could make me cum?” You scoffed. “Please, he probably hasn't fucked a girl in his life.” 
You said that, but God, you had no idea what was coming your way. 
“Who are we gossiping about?” You turned as you heard the male’s voice, scoffing at how needy he was for the tea. “No one,” you shook your head. “Your rival,” your best friend grinned, answering instead when you didn’t do so. The blond boy scoffed, looking at the black-haired boy. “Oh yeah, I am so sure he didn’t fuck a girl - or anyone else - in his life,” he agreed. 
“I am pretty sure I’ve been with a girl more times than he has,” Ryan next to him nodded, joining their conversation. “Kinda crazy,” you commented, laughing. Before you could say anything else, you were stopped by the teacher hitting the board with his hand, making you look his way. “As I was saying,” he started his speech again, giving you a warning look before he turned around, facing the board again so he could write down a few things. 
Your head fell on the table soon after out of boredom, and before you could even start paying attention to what the teacher was talking about, the bell rang, announcing the end of the lesson. 
“Okay, guys, who is coming with me to grab lunch?” Your best friend turned towards you and the two boys behind you. “I am passing,” you mumbled immediately, not even fully sitting up and simply turning your head towards her. “I am going,” Ryan proclaimed, already standing up from his place, the blond following him right after. 
“Okay, I see you guys later, then,” you smiled at them, waving them off as they left the classroom. You knew you should get up too and move to your next class, but you were starting to feel unwell, and the thought of getting up sounded terrible. You sighed, closing your eyes for a few seconds. You knew this classroom was empty for another hour or so anyway. 
“Hey, are you alright?” You opened your eyes again upon hearing the soft voice and feeling the tap on your shoulder, blinking a few times to make your eyes focus again. “Mhm, sure I am,” you mumbled, sitting up straight as you looked around. The class was empty by now, only the two of you were left there. “Why? Were you worried about me?” You chuckled, teasing him. Suddenly, it was as if your headache completely disappeared when you saw the nervous look on his face. “Relax, I am joking,” you shook your head, but couldn’t hide your smile. 
“I don’t want to annoy you,” you started, slowly packing your stuff as he stood beside you, waiting like a puppy. “But do you think you could give me today’s notes, Soob?” 
“You-” he gulped, trying to ignore the nickname. There was simply something about you calling him Soob. “I don’t want it for free though. You could consider it as me owing you one and helping you when you’d need it?” You suggested as you stood up, grabbing your now packed bag. “Uhm, sure,” he nodded, not even paying full attention to what you were saying. 
“I’ll text you tonight about the notes then,” you beamed happily, looking like a completely different person as you placed your hand on his arm as a sign of thank you. You were devastated minutes ago, but whoever would see you now wouldn’t believe him if he told them so. Soobin wasn’t sure why, but he was glad you looked fine again. 
Soobin threw his bag on the side of his room, jumping into his bed immediately after the long day. He laid down on his back, simply staring at the ceiling of his room. He reached into his pocket for his phone, seeing two unread messages from his best friend. He opened his phone, staring at the two texts. “Look at Instagram” “Thank me later” There wasn’t much for him to question. Even though to many it might seem confusing, he knew exactly whose Instagram he should check. There was only one person that the two of them talked about together after all. 
The black-haired male clicked on the icon, waiting for the story to load for a second. Then his eyes widened at the sight. It was a picture of you, but not just any picture. He sat up immediately, looking properly at your body. You were wearing a white top, cropped slightly above your waist. He couldn’t help but notice you weren't wearing a bra underneath, your nipples showing through the fabric. Then he saw the black miniskirt, that you definitely pulled higher than you should. He gulped, remembering how you touched his arm earlier today, your fingers brushing on his skin as your hair fell in front of your face. 
He whined silently as he felt his boxers becoming tighter the more he stared at the picture, your body curves exposed for anyone to see. He shared the story with Yeonjun, his best friend, and immediately texted him how good you looked. 
Only, did he not know it wasn’t Yeonjun he shared the story to.  
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Soobin stared at the messages, screaming as he turned his phone off faster than ever before. He couldn’t believe it. He just told you he needed you. There wasn’t anything worse that could be happening at the moment. Not to mention the image of your body was still stuck in his head, making him hard. 
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He stared at the messages again, his heart fighting with his brain at that moment. He didn’t want to make you do anything, he felt like it would be too forced, even though you were the one suggesting it. But a part of him knew this was his only chance. There was no way he could get you differently. He knew about your dating history, so he also knew you had never been with anyone like him. It was always the boys like Yeonjun, who just understood how to talk to girls properly, how to make them fall for them. But he wasn’t like that, he had no idea what he was doing. 
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And just like that, he was in front of your place, rethinking his decisions as he knocked on the front door, trying his best to ignore the boner in his pants that still hadn’t gone down. How could it be when you shared a picture like that with him?
“You came,” you mumbled as you opened the door, looking up at him. Soobin looked down on you, noticing the same top you had in the Instagram picture. He gulped, his eyes then falling on the bottom part of your body and the white panties that were the only thing you were wearing. “How could I not?” He whispered, making sure this picture would stay in his mind. 
You grabbed his hand as you took him inside, closing the door behind you immediately. It was only now that you noticed how big his hands were against yours. You just hoped he could use them too. 
Soobin blindly followed you to your bedroom, his mind full of thoughts about how he should go about this, while his eyes were stuck on your ass, unable to look away as you walked in front of him. 
“Can I-” he started as his eyes followed you while you sat on your bed. “You can do absolutely anything, Soob,” you interrupted him, watching as his face turned red. “Soob? Soobie?” You smirked, noticing what the nicknames did to him. “Is that what turns you on?” 
“Everything about you turns me on,” he admitted, slowly getting closer to you while you moved back, not taking your eyes off him. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t. You simply bit your bottom lip as you found him above yourself, holding eye contact. This was becoming more intimate than you thought it would. 
“Is it okay for me to kiss you?” He wanted to assure himself one more time. You thought about it for a second, not wanting to give him any hope, but also desperately needing his lips on yours. You nodded to him in the end, grabbing the collar of his shirt and bringing him closer to yourself, pressing your lips on his, your mouth slightly opened which only made it easier for him. 
His right hand found its way to your boob, carefully sliding under your top, his cold fingers brushing over your nipple. You groaned into the kiss, clenching around nothing but thin air. It felt pathetic. He had barely touched you and you were already getting wet. 
Soobin left your mouth for a second, getting a disagreeing whine immediately that made him smile as he started placing wet kisses all over your neck, slowly moving down to your collarbone and then between your boobs. Your lips parted as you breathed out from the pleasure, raising your head to look at him. “Mhm, take it off,” you whispered, your hand reaching for his sleeve. He didn’t hesitate for a second and listened to you, taking his shirt off while you took down your own, exposing your breast to him completely. 
“Fuck,” he groaned at the sight, feeling more and more uncomfortable in his sweatpants. He ran his fingers through his hair, looking at your body one more time before his lips found their way to your breast again, his hand cupping one of them as he pressed kisses on your other boob, his tongue making wet circles around your nipple. 
“Fuck,” it was you groaning this time, quiet moans escaping your lips as your nipples became hard at his touch. “Soob, please,” you whined, throwing your head back into the pillow. “Please, what? Hm?” He asked, not even looking up and just continuing what he had been doing until now, his lips moving down again, leaving wet traces on your stomach now as his hands found their way to your waist. “I don’t know. Just- fuck,” you moaned out again when you felt his lips on your clit through your panties. 
“Just?” He asked again, looking up at you. You could swear you had never seen anything better in your life. The male was in between your legs, his breath landing right on your clit as he looked at you, absolute need in his eyes. 
“Just fuck me already,” you begged, watching as he took down your panties, his eyes fixated on your already leaking pussy. “I don’t think so,” he informed you, moving up again so he would face you. “I doubt you could take it just like that,” he whispered, moving his fingers to your lips. You didn’t need to hear anything else and immediately opened your mouth, sucking on his fingers. 
Before you could even register his actions you felt him slowly inserting his two fingers into you, carefully watching you. He did so to make sure he was doing everything right. You weren't completely wrong when you said he probably hasn’t been with a girl in his life. He couldn’t say he would have much experience, but all of his friends were sex addicts - and now he could finally see why - and they couldn’t keep their mouths shut every time the topic came up, so it was only natural for Soobin to catch on to a few things. 
You gasped, your eyes rolling back. You knew there was an obvious difference in your hand sizes but god, his fingers were bigger than you thought. “Fuck, curl them now,” you commanded, not daring to look down. He did as you said, feeling his precum on his boxers. He wanted nothing more but to fuck you right then and there, but he knew he had to wait. 
It didn’t take much longer for you to squirm on his fingers, especially after he added pressure to your clit too, his thumb making slow circles around while his fingers were stretching your inside. 
“Can I eat you out, please?” He asked, looking up at you again, his thumb still rubbing your clit slowly. “Please, y/n,” he begged, making you go crazy. You weren't sure if it was the way he begged you, the way he said your name, or because of his breath on your skin, but you couldn’t say no to him even if you wanted to. “God, please do,” you whined out and just like that, his tongue was pressed on your pussy right away, not wasting any second of the time he had with you. 
It had been months since you had cummed thanks to a boy, so you didn’t have any expectations for him when you invited him over. But you were wrong when you thought no boys knew how to take care of their girls anymore because he did exactly what he should, making you cum on his tongue a few minutes after he went down on you, not leaving your trembling cunt even then, letting you ride out your orgasm as his nose was pressed on your clit, his tongue carefully licking every last bit of your cum. 
“Soob,” you groaned, pulling his hair, making him finally raise his head and look at you. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he mumbled, going up again to kiss you. “And delicious,” he informed you, pressing his lips on yours. “Fuck, Soob, you’re too good,” you mumbled before you kissed him again, slowly sitting up. “Come closer,” you said, grabbing the hem of his pants, and pulling him closer at the same time. 
He groaned, his eyes shut tight, his lips unable to stay away from yours. You smirked into the kiss, your hand grabbing his trembling cock over his pants, making him moan. “I don’t usually do this but…” you started, breaking your kiss so you could look at his body properly. “You were so good earlier,” you praised him, not breaking your eye contact as you changed your position so you would be kneeling. “Pants off, baby,” 
That alone was enough to make him go crazy. You calling him baby just did something with his head. And with his dick. 
“Fuck,” You breathed out when you finally pulled down Soobin’s pants and boxers, your pussy clenching around nothing again. You knew he would be bigger because of his height, but this was more than you had expected. 
He cupped your cheeks, making you look up at him. “Are you sure?” You chuckled, simply nodding. “I can take good care of you too, you know,” you proclaimed, looking up at him as your right hand wrapped around his cock, not breaking your eye contact. You knew it must have been making him go insane. 
You started slowly, simply kissing his tip and licking off his precum. Then, you decided to try to take his full length into your mouth, but stopped shortly after getting to his half, already feeling like you were going to gag any second. There was no way you could do this. 
However, Soobin saw it differently. To him, it looked like you were playing with him, moving slowly and carefully on purpose to tease him. His hand found its way to your head, carefully tugging the hair that was getting in front of your face behind your ears before he held your chin up, making you look at him, his dick still in your mouth. “Think you can go faster, pretty? Please,” He asked, hoping maybe begging would help him. 
He groaned when he felt you suck harder, trying to go faster too but failing miserably. He chuckled at the sight, his hand in your hair so he could control the speed himself. “If you want to stop, just punch me, or something, okay? Try not to bite my dick off if you can’t take it anymore, though,” he told you, and before you could even look up at him again and question what he was talking about, he was moving with your head on his own as if you were just a toy to fulfill his needs. If you were honest, you were glad he did so. It was turning you on more. 
“Fuck, just a bit more,” he moaned out, thrusting his hips into your mouth as you sucked on him. He didn’t dare to look at you just yet, he felt like he would stop if he saw you in the moment, scared he might have been hurting you by determining his speed. 
When Soobin finally looked at you there were tears in your eyes, and his cum was all over your mouth. He cupped your cheeks, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumbs. “Sorry,” he mumbled. You looked up at him, high on all the pressure you felt until now thanks to him. God, you knew you needed to do this more often from now on. You licked the corner of your mouth, making sure not a single drop was wasted. 
“You’re not done yet, are you?” You asked, your puppy eyes almost making him cum again right away. “Fuck, no I am not,” he answered, leaning down to you to kiss you again. 
Soon after, Soobin found himself sitting on the edge of your bed, his back pressed against the white walls while you sat on him, your head on his shoulder, biting into his skin so you wouldn’t get too loud as he fucked you. Holding your ass, he was helping you remain at the same speed, moaning along with you. “So close, Soob,” you cried out. “Hold in a bit more,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he felt himself getting closer to finishing again, too. 
“Fuck,” you breathed out, a mixture of your own and Soobin’s cum leaking from your pussy. You raised your head slowly, your cheeks completely red as you looked into his eyes, still sitting on his cock. “Soob, this was the best sex I’ve ever had. God, you were so good.” He bit onto his bottom lip, watching your fucked out face. “Oh, yeah?” He asked, even more embarrassed than you were. “Does that mean you’ll let me fuck you again next time?” 
“Soob…” you mumbled, just watching him for a second before you carefully got off him. He just shook his head before you could say anything else. “I know, I know, don’t worry,” he muttered. “I still needed to try it,” he smiled awkwardly, his dimples being the cutest thing you had ever seen. “Let me help you clean yourself up before I leave. It's the least I can do,” He suggested. You nodded to him, convinced this was the last time you were together like this. You couldn't be more wrong though. 
You knew you couldn’t stay away from him for too long when he helped you to get into your bathroom and his fingers found their way to your clit again, making you melt at his touch. Even worse was when he carried you to your bed after he switched your bedsheet for you, asking you to let him eat you out one more time before he would leave you alone for good. 
You just couldn’t let him get away. 
“Fuck, Soob,” you mumbled, sitting on the edge of your bed, watching him kneeling in front of you, begging to feel your squirm on his tongue again. “You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?” His innocent eyes looked up at you, his hands rubbing your thighs. You sighed, “Just stay here.” 
You could swear you saw sparks in his eyes as the words left your mouth. “Really? Can I?” 
You nodded, agreeing. “Sleep here tonight, I’ll let you eat me out again next time.” 
Soobin smiled proudly, his hands squeezing your thighs. “Only next time?” 
“God, just come here,” you proclaimed, pulling him up from the floor into a warm kiss, feeling his hands roaming on your body again. The night was still nowhere to be done.
213 notes · View notes
kanmom51 · 2 days
Text
Smeraldo garden marching band - JM
Song and MV - My thoughts
Very long post ahead. Seeing that @andy-wm wrote such an amazing post already, I am sending whoever hasn't read it to go read and like it.
I agree with @andy-wm's thoughts and am going to use it as a base to mine, jot down a few points I would like to either add or emphasize. I could have reblogged, but I felt there was just too much I wanted to convey and better I do it in a separate post.
So let's get it.
Where where where do I start?
Maybe from the end, seeing that the song does seem to open and closes with the BTS reference.
I do agree the song is not JM singing his love to Army.
I've seen Army trying to twist and turn it around once again making it all about Army, JM telling us things he couldn't tell us before, the truth he couldn't before - that he loves army? Say what? Since when did he not tell Army he loved us? Since when was that a truth that had to be hidden? Nah. It's funny how people are getting the whole connection to the Smeraldo flower, the connection to The truth untold (will talk about that a little more later on), but are not willing to take that one extra step and see or admit what that thing JM telling us is.
There is a reason this song comes after Set me free Pt. 2!!
This is a different JM. One that decided to live his life as himself, flying away free like a butterfly.
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And he connects the dots in the MV.
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This is about something that was obviously hidden by him until now, something he is telling us now, a secret he is letting us in on, once he told "all the opps" to fuck off.
These lines here:
All the things we couldn't say before And your hidden feelings too I'll tell you everything now (Just for you) Don't you worry anymore Since we’re together now Let's be a little more honest (Let's go)
Clear as day.
This is about hidden feelings (and not necessarily hidden from the person he loves but from us, as we are the audience and it's time to tell us about it). Same btw with the honesty. Not that he hasn't been honest with that person he loves, but it's time to be honest with us, perhaps practice that same honesty that certain person has been trying to practice throughout 2023.
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This is JM's time. JM's secret to tell.
So why, oh why the hell would it be about his love for Army and wanting to hold our flaming hands????? Please make it make sense.
Forget the fact that the lyrics are just not it. Nope. He might love army but he definitley doesn't want army, and spare me any reasoning, JM is a big boy and he KNOWS what it means when he says "I want you babe...", and it ain't him wanting Army. Nope. Nah. No way.
On top of that, by now we know that everything JM does is for a reason, and the 12 June in the lyrics is no different. This is about BTS, not Army, and the idea of the bookending, I love love love that one. This exactly:
That means the events happening in the song, happen within the context of Bangtan. Reading between the lines, the person he is singing to/about is within Bangtan.
Ah, and there is this too:
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No special course in reading comprehension needed here.
Not a love song to army. If it wasn't clear from the lyrics then it's said here. A song JM wrote for army to help them express their feelings for a loved one when they are having issues doing so themselves (all part of the layering I will talk about later on).
I'll just say here that JM is the king of layering. One song and MV containing messages within messages.
One more thing about that ending frame from JM though.
When the curtains rise and the lights turn on Everyone is in their places Turn up the music I think we’re ready now Let's begin one, two Put your hands up
These lines.
As I was watching the MV for the first time reading those lines, this is what popped straight into mind (and speaking of popping, I will get to that too, that naughty cutie, sexy, lovely man of ours and his not so innocent innuendos - yes, I do think his mind was going there):
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When do you feel your heart connected with another member ?
"...when my eyes naturally meet Jimin's and we high five..."
*Side note: not JK telling us his heart is connected with JM basically all the time...
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I guess JK is talking about moments like that.
When I saw/heard those lines in JM's song it felt like the one JM was talking to in that moment wasn't all of the members, but that one person standing on that stage with him, that one person that he just said all his "I love you"s to.
Oh, and a little example of nothing being coincidental and fully thought out by JM:
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Ok then.
Just as @andy-wm mentioned, JM gives us hints galore throughout the whole MV as to who that individual is he is speaking to, confessing his love to (again, all while also clearly talking to us letting us in on that secret that he was hiding until now).
We have him hinting to what it ain't.
That the person in question is not of the female variety. The potentially romantic moments are only with the male characters. That "yes sir" add-on.
Ooh, I love you babe I'll come closer to you I love you, babe (Yes, sir) Ooh, I want you, babe I wanna hold your hand I want you, babe
This is no mistake. This is not in the live version only. This is part of the actual lyrics. As is.
We have him giving us hints in the staging, the choreo, the set connecting with Serendipity.
The you are me I am you in the MV choreo
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And prey tell, who took ownership of that one, eh?
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We have the bubbles.
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And specifically JM in a bubble.
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Wait, what am I seeing there?
JM in a bubble with sunflowers?
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Sun-flowers?
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I guess we're in the business of recreating moments then.
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Not quite enough, right?
So we have JM literally using Golden hour lighting in his MV. All while the sunflowers (you know, those that grow towards the sun, and usually don't tend to open up and flourish as the sun is going down) are blooming.
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Oh, and who are they directed towards if not the recipient of JM's confession? You know, the sun part of the sun and moon duo. Get with it people. You should be reciting this off by heart by now.
Oh, @andy-wm you asked and I will reply. You are not crazy AT ALL. I will say it one more time and clearly:
The sunflowers, that represent the sun as in themselves, are blooming facing towards the camera, in the direction of JM's love confession, all while doing so when the sun is actually supposedly setting, it being Golden hour.
And if it's Golden hour we are talking about, how can we forget this?
Just JK telling us JM is the love of his life during Golden Hour .
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See full clip here:
And now we have JM doing just the same.
Who would have thought?
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So, basically the flowers are blooming facing (because of) the individual that JM is confessing his love to - you know, the sun to his moon.
Same moon that was doing this:
Every night You spin me up high The moon with you in its arms Let me have a taste Give me a good ride (Oh, I'm fallin', I'm fallin', I'm fallin') It's gon' be a good night (Oh, I'm fallin') Forever you and I
And if we are already drawing the lines between SGMB and Like crazy, then how about this perhaps connecting line:
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We know how personal Face was to JM. We know that every single song is him through and through. We know Like crazy is about him struggling during the pandemic.
We saw his breakdown during the MOTS ONE live streamed concert.
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This was October 2020, around 6 months into the pandemic. The uncertainty. This is their first performance and from there until Muster another 9 months go by. We know from Festa 2022 that the pandemic screwed up all of their plans. the uncertainty, working on and releasing Be and then Butter and PTD everything leading up to the PTD online concert, a year after MOTS ON:E. For those that performing is their life, standing in front of an audience and giving it their all, it's a hard pill to swallow. The unknown, if they will ever get back to perform on stage in front of a live audience, when this is who they are, their essence, it can be unbearable. JM wasn't the only performer to go through this. It's just that he shared this with us.
And JK was there by his side.
And all he wanted was to make it better.
Just like he did during the concert itself.
So yeah, I do believe it's JK referenced in that song.
And Yeah, like everything JM does, this song too, and it's MV, are layered.
And SMF pt. 2 is him breaking free, flying away like a butterfly and moving on to SGMB. Now he can say what he feels out loud for EVERYONE TO HEAR. And he's telling that someone that was worried about him, that one that stood by JM's side and perhaps JM felt like he was trying to save him, that it's ok, there is nothing to worry about anymore. And unlike in Like crazy, where JM doesn't want to be woken up from that dream, and he is fighting that person that wants to save him, at this point he's eager to wake up and live each day a new with that person he loves blossoming by his side.
Same person he wrote the Letter to?
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Yep. Same person.
I do believe that they are all one. Same person by his side in Like crazy, giving him a good ride, in his arms, trying to save JM. Same person he wrote his love letter to. And same person he's telling that he loves in SGMB.
And then there are these lines to consider:
All the things we couldn't say before And your hidden feelings too
Is JM confessing to that person, to us and for that person too? Telling us the feelings are mutual. Hidden until now, from us, and now out in the open.
And yes, although SGMB is JM confessing his love to that person (cough JK cough), he's already done that in a song, right? So what now?
Layering peeps.
JM is telling that person, but more so, I do believe, telling us.
Remember how Letter was hidden? Yes, we got to hear it, but it was hidden on JM's album. Like a secret that isn't to be shared with everyone. Like something that needs to be hidden. And here comes the layering again - it's hidden cause it's a private letter to the one he loves, but also hidden because it's something that cannot be revealed publicly, because he's an idol and 'not allowed' to have such a personal relationship and because the relationship itself is 'not allowed', being with another man.
And now we have SGMB. Not only is the song not hidden away, but it's out there in the open. Loud and proud. The first single released from Muse. How louder or more public can it get than that?
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Ok, so feels like a good place to talk about the song's choice of name and its lyrics for a sec.
Much has been said already about the Smeraldo flower, it's meaning and The Truth Untold.
And now we have this:
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"The longing to confess and find love on behalf of those unable to articulate their feelings..."
Let's talk about this sentence for a second.
One of the things we get from the MV is cupid or matchmaker JM. Not only is he telling his person how he feels, he is also helping those around him express their love. So, as usual we have a layered message, oh so like JM to do in his well thought out messages. JM 'confessing' to his love, but also to us about his love (first 2 layers) and another layer of JM helping us, his audience, to express our feelings to whomever we wish to and are struggling to do so. Oh and another layer to it all is the one surrounding all three, the one that connects to the Smeraldo flower and it's part in The Truth Untold - that part of allowing to show your true colours, your true feeling, and not be rejected for them, not necessarily by the person you love, but by those that surround you and will not accept your true self or your love for each other.
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The connecting lines between the two songs.
And we know who this song meant so much to as well.
"But I still want you"...
So most definitley not a coincidence JM choosing the Smeraldo flower nor calling his band The Smeraldo Garden Marching Band, having them be the ones to deliver this oh so loud and proud message to us all.
One last thing before I leave you for now.
Let's talk for a sec about the new JM dance challenge?
We got cutie sexy lovely JM in this one.
And again, thanks @andy-wm for your lovely post.
Once again, if it wasn't clear already, the one he's paired up with is Loco, sitting there on the sofa, not even dancing with him, just there all googly eyed at JM, struggling to keep a straight face. And the end, omg, that end.
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No Loco. That performance was not for you. And fyi, there is only one person JM is accepting flowers from ...
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You know...
That one and the same person he was rushing home to pack for their trip to Japan the next day.
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Same person he chose to enlist together with less than a month later.
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220 notes · View notes
starlightkun · 2 days
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⏯ word count: 16.6k ⏯ warnings: general angst around not knowing what you’re doing with your life, the usual cursing ⏯ genre: fluff, suggestive/steamy but no actual smut, strangers to lovers, band au, punk drummer!sungchan, office worker!reader, not really badboy x good girl trope, more like sungchan has tattoos and reader is… a bit boring and hates her job. but she’s trying!, reader is having a quarter life crisis, ft. shotaro/eunseok/wonbin as sungchan’s bandmates, and nct dream 00 line as reader’s normal friends™ ⏯ author’s note: take a shot every time i say ‘tattoos’ in this fic, and you’ll die of alcohol poisoning! ⏯ now playing… quarter life – txt | NEED (ooo-eee) – løren | medicine – woz
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“If you really want to do something brand new…” Sungchan took your receipt out of your hand, writing on the back of it with a pen that was on the counter. “Make this your thing for tomorrow.”
“You still haven’t told me what you do.”
“Live a little. And bring some friends, yeah? Don’t want you getting lonely in the mosh pit.”
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“Y/N’s hit her quarter-life crisis,” Jaemin announced for you as the two of you joined your other friends at dinner.
You groaned and dropped your head in your hands, already regretting telling him your idea.
“24…” Renjun muttered to himself, then said louder, “Hey, life expectancy of 96, not bad.”
“So what is it?” Donghyuck grinned. “A tattoo? Nipple piercings? I can’t see any hair dye or choppy bangs done with kitchen scissors, so—”
“Don’t give her any ideas.” Jaemin shot him a disapproving look.
“So she doesn’t know what her quarter-life crisis is going to be yet? She’s… planning it out?” Jeno asked skeptically.
“No. She’s decided to do one spontaneous and/or new thing every day,” Jaemin explained your idea to the group.
“Oh. That’s not so bad.”
“So you’re in your manic pixie dream girl era… at 24,” Renjun nodded slowly.
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, sitting up straighter as you went to defend yourself. “It’s not a… thing. I’m just tired of feeling like my whole life is filler, okay?”
“Main character syndrome,” Donghyuck declared.
“No, I’m not going to expect the entire world to revolve around me and call random people in public NPCs,” you retorted. “I just want something different in my life, alright? You know I’ve never even gotten drunk?”
“24 is not the time to start,” Renjun stated disapprovingly.
“Exactly, we’re not 19. Can’t get blackout and snap back the next day anymore.” Jaemin shook his head.
Donghyuck looked a bit miffed at Jaemin’s advice. “Speak for yourself.”
“I’ve barely been tipsy,” you pointed out.
“So you’ve always had a prefrontal cortex, unlike us. Congrats,” Jeno shrugged. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing?”
“I’m the boring friend, aren’t I?”
“Boring isn’t bad!” Donghyuck tried to reassure you.
“So I am,” you huffed, dropping your cheek into your palm.
“You’re plenty of fun, Y/N,” Jaemin promised, rubbing your arm soothingly.
“If we didn’t like you, and didn’t have fun with you, we wouldn’t hang out with you,” Jeno pointed out, actually sort of making you feel a little better.
“I’m fun like rotting in bed all day is fun.” You knew you were just pouting now, but you were finding it hard to shake your sullen feeling.
“Exactly!” Donghyuck said brightly.
“Shut up!” Jaemin hissed at him, and you heard a sudden yelp as you imagined that Jaemin had kicked your other friend under the table.
“Y/N, do what you need to do.” Renjun leaned forward across the table. “We’re your friends, so here’s the obligatory: don’t die, don’t get maimed, and if you do something illegal, don’t get arrested.”
“This is why I didn’t want to tell you guys. I’m not even doing crazy things. Yesterday I walked home instead of taking the subway,” you informed them glumly.
“That’s new!” Jaemin cheered supportively, squeezing your shoulders.
“Yeah, whatever…”
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Clutching your tote bag strap tighter to your body, you turned onto a street, trying to ignore the sun that was getting lower in the sky. Surely this way would lead towards your apartment. You’d lived in this city your whole life, you could walk from your work to your home, two places that you went to every single day.
There was a tall man outside one of the shops on this street, and you went to skirt around him on the sidewalk as he swept a few stray leaves and dirt out of a bookstore. Other than him, the street was fairly quiet, many of the stores having already closed up for the day.
“What are you doing?” The young man called out to you before you could fully pass him by.
You pivoted around on your heel, quickly looking around to see if there was anybody else that he could possibly be talking to. But it was definitely just you and him.
He looked about your age, wearing a cream pink long-sleeve button down presumably as part of the store uniform, though you weren’t sure if he really needed to have it buttoned all the way to the top button. It seemed a bit too warm out for that.
“Walking. Why?”
“This is the fourth time you’ve walked by here.” He did a sweeping point to the sidewalk in front of the shop, then leaned against the broom he had been cleaning with. “Wasn’t sure if you might have a particular destination in mind.”
“Fuck! I knew I was going in circles!”
“You’re lost.”
“Yeah, this isn’t my normal way home…”
“And your phone died?” He cocked his head curiously.
“No, I’m trying to get home without using my phone map,” you admitted, looking around for any familiar landmarks.
“Why? That’s what it’s for.”
“It’s… You’ll think it’s stupid. My friends did.”
He shrugged. “Probably. But why does that matter to you? I’m just some guy.”
“I’ve been doing something new every day. Just small things. But if I change enough little things, then everything will have changed.”
The guy was quiet for a beat, looking altogether unimpressed, then asked, “Where do you live?”
“Uh…”
“General area, see if I can give you directions from here.”
“Oh, uhm, if you can get me to the tea shop on Magnolia, I can get myself home from there.”
“Jade Gardens, I know it,” he nodded, then pointed left down the street, in the same direction that you had just come from. “That way, left onto North Oak, right onto Foxtail, another right onto Broad Street, it’ll eventually dead end into Magnolia, keep going until you see the tea shop.”
“Left onto North Oak, right onto Foxtail, right onto Broad,” you recited. “Got it, thank you!”
“Stay safe.” He waved you off, returning to sweeping without seeing if you had gone the way he’d pointed you.
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It was Monday that you got lost and were given directions home by the questionably friendly but overall helpful bookstore worker, and the tea shop on Magnolia had been on your mind since. So on Thursday, you decided to stop by after work. You were running low on the green tea that you usually kept in stock at home, and thought that you might pick up something new for yourself.
Opening the door to Jade Gardens that Thursday, you were enveloped by the familiar aromatic smells wafting around the small shop. When you didn’t hear the usual kind voice of the owner, Mrs. Choi, greeting you, you peered around the aisle that you were in to look for her.
“Mrs. Choi?” You called out, also not hearing her TV show that she usually was watching behind the counter between helping customers. You were by the black teas anyway, so you didn’t mind wandering into the next aisle as you looked for any other sign of life in the shop.
“She’s not in,” a voice that was definitely not Mrs. Choi informed you right as you turned the corner into the beginning of the green teas. You could see enough of the man’s profile to recognize him as he stood by some of the shelves in the store. The worker from the bookstore. He was standing over an open cardboard box, a couple tins of tea in his hands.
“Uhm…” You trailed off, blinking at him as you weren’t sure exactly what to say. He placed the tins on the shelf.
“You think I’m stalking you, don’t you?” He said flatly, turning to show you the name badge on his longsleeve teal shirt. It was metallic gold, with the name SUNGCHAN engraved into it. “I work here too. For the past six months.”
“Oh, right.” You relaxed, flashing him a smile. As he went back to restocking and you went back to looking at the tea on the shelves that he wasn’t currently stocking, you commented lightly, “I’ve never seen you here before.”
“I work Tuesdays and Thursdays. You ever been here on a Tuesday or a Thursday?”
“No. I always come on Sundays.”
“There you go.” He had emptied the box of product he was restocking from, and carried it into the back. When he reemerged, he stopped behind the register, but engaged you in conversation again, “So is this your new thing for today? Coming on a Thursday instead of Sunday?”
“Yeah.”
“And? Is your whole life different yet?”
“I’ve only been doing this for two weeks…” You replied defensively, looking over at him from the two kinds of green tea that you were debating between.
“Have you done anything new yet?” Sungchan asked, arching an eyebrow.
“That’s the whole point—”
“From what I know, as some guy who doesn’t even know your name, is that you have walked home from work without using the maps on your phone—something you would have done anyway—and gone to a shop that you go to regularly, just on a different day of the week. Have you done anything that you’ve never done before at all?”
“My name is Y/N, by the way.” You bit the inside of your cheek, and grabbed your tea selection. “Ordering a drink I’ve never tried at my usual boba place doesn’t count, does it?”
“You already know the answer, Y/N.”
“The point isn’t to quit my job and travel the world and completely overhaul my life—”
“I thought it was to change everything?”
“If I change enough little things, then—”
“—everything will have changed.” “—everything will have changed.” The two of you finished at the same time, Sungchan putting more emphasis on ‘everything,’ a pointed look on his face.
“I just don’t get how everything is supposed to change by you coming to a tea shop on a different day one time, but still working the same job you hate,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.
“How do you know I hate my job?!” You retorted, bringing your selections up to the counter.
“If you loved it, you wouldn’t be in a crisis about changing your whole life.”
“Do you like your two jobs?”
“They’re fine.” He shrugged, ringing up your purchases.
You handed him your card. “Fine?”
“They’re just my day jobs.”
“And what’s your night job then?”
A smirk grew on his face as he bagged your tins of tea. “Nah.”
“‘Nah?’” You repeated incredulously.
“You’re not doing anything new. No point telling you.”
“If it’s stand-up, I don’t want to know,” you snorted.
“It’s not stand-up.”
“Mm, I don’t know, you’re giving me real stand-up energy right now,” you snipped, gesturing to his entire demeanor. “I’m really glad you haven’t told me, actually, because I can’t control my face when I’m told bad jokes.”
“I don’t do stand-up comedy,” he reiterated with the same calm, self-assured tone, handing you your bag of tea and receipt.
“Considering you’re refusing to tell me, I’m convinced it’s like, open mic nights. Tight fives, not even a full—”
“Not stand-up,” he said again. “But considering how badly you’re begging me to tell you—”
“Pretty sure you’re the one desperately trying to convince me you don’t do stand-up, but—”
“If you really want to do something brand new…” He took your receipt out of your hand, writing on the back of it with a pen that was on the counter. “Make this your thing for tomorrow.”
You accepted the receipt when he held it back out to you. “You still haven’t told me what you do.”
“Live a little. And bring some friends, yeah? Don’t want you getting lonely in the mosh pit.”
Your eyes scanned the address and time he had scrawled on your receipt. “Mosh pit?”
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“We’re going to fucking die,” Donghyuck declared from beside you as soon as your group of friends entered the basement of the building that Sungchan had given you the address to. It was already packed with people, dark, and loud.
“Nobody drink anything!” Jaemin hissed, clutching onto your other arm. “Especially Y/N! Getting drunk is one thing, I don’t want getting roofied to be on your bucket list.”
“It’s not, Jaem,” you retorted. “Trust me.”
“Why the fuck are we here again?” Renjun yelled from behind you over the din of the crowd.
“Y/N met some hot guy—Ow!” Donghyuck had gotten cut off by you stomping on his foot.
“Sorry, it’s so crowded in here!” You glared at him. “I didn’t say anything about what he looked like. I needed something new to do for today, this seemed as good an option as any.”
“Okay, well, what the hell is this? Basement party?” Jeno asked, next to Renjun.
“I think it’s a concert?” You couldn’t see anything over the heads of the other people. “He said something about a mosh pit…”
They all exchanged a look.
“We’re going to fucking die,” Donghyuck repeated.
A roaring started up in the crowd, and you looked around in bewilderment to see what had gotten them all excited. In the far corner of the basement, it looked like a band was getting set up to play, two guitarists, a bassist, but it was the drummer that made you do a double take. You couldn’t be quite sure from the distance, the poor lighting, and the fact that the tank top he was wearing exposed two sleeves of tattoos along rather defined arms that you had never previously seen unclothed, but… that might just be Sungchan.
“We need to get closer,” you declared to your friends, yanking Jaemin along with you.
“What?!” Renjun yelped, following you nevertheless.
“Did you forget the part where he apparently said mosh pit?” Donghyuck scrambled after you.
“At least let Jeno be our human shield!” Jaemin pleaded with you.
“Thanks for volunteering me, Jaemin,” Jeno snorted, but willingly took the role, stepping in front of you to clear a path a bit easier than you had been doing on your own.
The five of you stuck out a bit, you noticed. You hadn’t exactly been given a dress code, nor a description of what to expect, so you did unfortunately stick out like a sore thumb among all the black, leather, and more black. It wasn’t that you were wearing a rainbow so much as you were clearly wearing something… uptight in comparison. Corporate. All you had was work clothes, and stuff to go to work dinners in. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out to something even remotely like this. You’d done your best to dress down without wearing pajamas, but it was obvious that you were out of place.
Finally, you got close enough to the band to be able to make out the drummer’s face. He was looking down, making a final adjustment to his instrument, and when he looked back up, he pushed some of his hair out of his eyes. Definitely Sungchan. So this was his night job. Drummer. For just a second, his gaze flicked over the crowd, and you couldn’t be absolutely sure—after all, it was packed in there—but you swore he saw you for a second, surprise on his features for a moment before a cocky smirk overtook it.
One of the guitarists said something, they all had mics, you were pretty sure he was introducing the band or something, but this close to the speakers, all you could do was feel the words in your chest, not hear them with your ears. And when the music actually started, you felt like it was rearranging your brain matter. The crowd didn’t seem to really know the songs, as nobody sang along, but they were having fun nonetheless, dancing, jumping, and headbanging. As you got on your tiptoes to keep peering over Jeno’s shoulder at Sungchan, you found yourself bouncing along to the beat. Someone must have bumped into Renjun, as he stumbled into your back, and you let out a squeak and latched onto Jeno’s shoulders to avoid losing your balance.
“What is going on back there?” Jeno turned around.
You looked back at Renjun as well, who was now squeezing himself in between you and Donghyuck. Just behind and to the side of you, closer to the middle of the crowd, something was going on. Everyone was moving around a lot more, and… shoving each other?
“Mosh pit,” Renjun shook his head.
You kept your grip on Jeno’s shoulders, using them as leverage to stay on your tiptoes as you watched the performance. They had a lot of passion, you couldn’t deny that. You thought that maybe if you could actually parse out more of the melody and words being sung, you might even like their music.
Then it was over after what felt like less than a handful of songs. One of the guitarists seemed to thank the crowd briefly as Sungchan sat and spun one of his drumsticks mindlessly. And then they were done. The guitarists and bassist took their instruments with them as they disappeared into an adjoining room, and Sungchan stood up and took his sticks.
“They’re done, are we done?” Renjun requested.
“Sure, sure,” you agreed, having satiated your curiosity.
Back on the street, everyone let out a simultaneous breath of relief. Your lungs were happy to be inhaling fresh air again, and the sounds of the city streets at night felt quiet in comparison to that basement.
“My ears are ringing,” Jaemin groaned.
“Mine are bleeding,” Donghyuck scoffed.
“They weren’t that bad, Hyuck,” you rolled your eyes.
“Okay, which one was he?” He pointed an accusing finger at you. “Bookstore-slash-tea shop guy. Which one was he?”
“What?”
“He was in the band, wasn’t he? That’s why he invited you, that’s why you’re not agreeing with me right now. No way you actually liked that noise. So? Which one?”
“You’re annoying.”
“Bet he was the bassist,” Renjun took a crack at guessing. “Totally your type, Y/N.”
“I think it was the frontman, he would’ve been the only one shameless enough to beg for girls to come to their shows,” Jaemin retorted.
“Definitely not the drummer, did you see those tattoos? Our Y/N wouldn’t have gone to some random address that a guy like that gave her,” Jeno snickered.
“I’m not prejudiced, assholes,” you replied, a bit miffed when Jaemin and Renjun nodded their heads in agreement at Jeno’s assessment.
Jaemin gently reassured you, “No, of course not. You just… stick to what you know.”
“Says the four guys who were begging to leave. I thought I was supposed to be the boring friend?”
“There’s a difference between being fun and patently stupid,” Renjun snorted. “Going to a random address that some weird guy gives you falls into the second category.”
“I think it was the drummer,” Donghyuck announced, narrowing his eyes at you. “He invited you, didn’t he, Y/N?”
You poked your tongue against the inside of your cheek. “He was wearing longsleeves…”
“Knew it,” he grinned victoriously. “The other guitarist was blonde. Blondes aren’t your type.”
“So I’m predictable even when I’m trying to be unpredictable?” You groaned.
“Uh-huh.”
“We’re still getting food, right?” Jeno asked hopefully.
“Hell yeah,” Donghyuck threw an arm around your neck and shook you around. “On Y/N!”
You elbowed him in the side. “Yes to food, fuck no I’m not paying for you again Hyuck. Freeload off someone else.”
“It’s not freeloading, it’s compensation, for the damage that your boyfriend’s shitty band did to my eardrums.”
“I don’t even know him, you dick.” You shoved him off you this time, inadvertently directly into Renjun, who complained loudly at being collateral damage. “Sorry, Renjun.”
“Push him off a bridge next time, not into me,” he scoffed, straightening his clothes.
“You’ve got to stop letting him rile you up, Y/N,” Jaemin advised you, looping his arm with yours.
“Says the man who was literally threatening to run him over two days ago.”
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On Monday, you walked down the street with a particular destination in mind this time. You pushed the door to the bookstore open, making the bell above it ring lightly. The inside smelled like old books and pine.
“Sorry, we’re actually about to…” Sungchan trailed off when he looked up from the register and spotted you.
“Are you closing? I can go,” you offered, already sheepishly backing up towards the exit again.
“No, you can stay. Just turn the closed sign around and flip the lock for me, will you?” He gestured to the door.
You did so, and took a few hesitant steps further into the shop as he went back to closing out the register. You were admittedly staring at him a little, trying to line up the visage of the tattooed drummer you’d seen at the show with the man in a cream pink button-up in front of you, no visible body art in sight. His hair was nicely parted and styled to show some of his forehead; he could even blend in at your office.
“Wasn’t expecting you to actually show up,” Sungchan said, pushing the drawer of the register closed.
You rolled your eyes. “Do I really seem like that much of a drag?”
“You’re wearing a pantsuit.”
“It’s a blazer and slacks! That’s not—” You looked down at your own clothes, cutting yourself off with a huff. “Point taken. From the man wearing a pink button-up.”
“Uniform.” He indicated to the shop around him generally. “I’d wear the short-sleeve option, but I have to look… how’d Mr. Kang put it? Respectable.”
“Mm, of course. I almost didn’t recognize you without the sleeves and with the… sleeves,” you finished awkwardly, trying not to picture his biceps right in that moment.
He chuckled, sitting down on a stool behind the counter. “So who was the guy?”
It took you a second to follow his leap in conversation, and even then, you didn’t quite stick the landing, only able to explain, “The guys were my friends. You told me to bring some, if you’ll recall.”
“I meant the one that you were hanging onto the whole time.”
“I didn’t realize you were watching me the whole time,” you teased, tilting your head.
“You picked a spot right in front of me. Couldn’t help but notice.”
“Jeno is my friend, as I just said. He’s sturdy, I was trying not to fall over.”
Sungchan looked at his phone. “Have you done your new thing for today?”
“By your standards? No.”
He stood up, grabbing a backpack from the ground to sling over his shoulder and jerked his head towards a narrow hallway behind him. “Come on.”
With the voice of Jaemin nagging you in the back of your mind, you followed him. At the end of the hallway was the back door of the bookstore, which led you into the alleyway between rows of shops. Sungchan locked up behind you, then dropped his bag at his feet and opened it.
“Where are we going?” You questioned.
“Food. You haven’t had dinner, have you?” He replied, starting to unbutton his shirt from the collar.
You failed to come up with an answer as he untucked it and slipped one arm out. “What are you doing?”
“Changing my shirt.” He stared back at you, the button up hanging off of one arm. You could see now that the tattoos extended onto his pecs as well. “Turn around if you want.”
Feeling like you were losing some kind of challenge, you turned your back to him, continuing your previous conversation instead. “No, I haven’t eaten.”
“Neither have I.” The zipper on the bag opened.
“But what if I’ve been to the place before?”
“I don’t think you have.” Zipped back up.
“If you told me the name—”
“Ready,” Sungchan declared, stepping up next to you. He was now in a dark shirt that had the logo of what you were sure was another band on it, and a worn leather jacket with an assortment of patches. He ran his fingers through his hair, intentionally shaking it out of the nice style from before and into a more natural, messy state. He took off down the alley, leaving you to follow after him.
“You’re not going to tell me the name of the place we’re going, are you?” You sighed.
“No.”
“What if I have allergies?”
“Do you?”
“…No.”
Sungchan turned down another street. “You left early. You missed the other bands.”
“Didn’t know there were other bands, and my friends were hungry.” You shrugged, opting not to tell him that your friends hated his music and had been begging you to leave. And that you didn’t put up a fight about going.
“Leaving after four songs to get food. Your friends sound lame.”
“They’re fun,” you immediately went to defend them. “I’m the boring one out of us. They’ve at least actually gotten drunk.”
The two of you had reached a crosswalk with the stop hand lit up. You stopped and pressed the button to wait for it to change. Sungchan paused just long enough to look both ways, then took your elbow in a loose grip and pulled you into the empty crosswalk.
“Let’s go.”
“What are you—”
“There’s nobody coming.” His hand slid down your arm to grab your hand as he walked backwards in front of you, gesturing widely with his other arm. “See? Not the end of the world.”
“I’m going to laugh if you trip over the curb behind you,” you informed him mildly, already eyeing the approaching sidewalk.
“If I fall, I’m taking you down with me.” He grinned.
“And you’ll break my fall.”
“Like in every good rom-com.”
“Are we making bets on if you’ll have a first- or second-degree concussion from hitting your head on the pavement?”
Sungchan turned around then, just in time to step up onto the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. He smiled down at you smugly, and you made a small ‘hmph’ sound in the back of your throat. You noted that he didn’t let go of your hand as you kept walking. You didn’t shake him off.
“How far away is this place?” You checked the time on your phone. “I have work in the morning.”
“Not too far. I can’t be out late either. I have practice tonight.”
“You called the bookstore and the tea shop your day jobs, and the band is your night job…”
“Uh-huh.”
“We didn’t have to pay a cover or anything to get in on Friday. How much does your night job actually pay?”
“That one was for fun. And a twelve-pack,” he answered nonchalantly. “Where we are now, a gig is a gig.”
“They paid you in beer and exposure?” You summarized dryly.
“It was just a friend’s basement, not a real concert venue or anything.”
“Oh, underground. Literally.”
He snorted. “You’re hilarious.”
“I try.”
“Maybe you should do stand-up.”
“No thanks, my day job is paying me just fine.”
He clicked his tongue. “And yet you hate it.”
“Your words, not mine.”
“You’ve yet to tell me otherwise.”
You sighed, but unfortunately, you couldn’t outright disagree with him. The two of you turned onto another street, where you bumped up into the back of a line for a food truck. Sungchan stopped you there, letting go of your hand to reach into his jacket and pull out his wallet.
“You got cash on you?” He asked, flicking through the bills in his wallet.
“No, do I need some?” You only had your phone and your credit cards.
“They’re cash only,” he nodded towards the food truck. “It’s fine, I’ll pay.”
“Sungchan, you don’t have to,” you insisted. “We can just eat somewhere else.”
“My idea, you didn’t know, I’ll pay.” He shook his head. The line moved up then, and he urged you forward with a hand on the small of your back. “Unless you think I’m broke because I don’t have some office job that I hate like you.”
“I didn’t say that! But you did just tell me you recently got paid in beer and exposure.”
“And have two other jobs,” he reminded you.
You didn’t outright accept his offer, but didn’t argue anymore. Getting on your tiptoes, you tried to look for a menu over the other customers in line.
“What do they even have?”
“Changes every week. We’ll find out when we order.”
“What if you don’t like what they’re selling this week?”
“What do I keep telling you? Live a little.”
“Fine.” You dropped back down to flat feet with a sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “How do you know about this place?”
“Couple of my friends run it, when they’re not playing.”
“They’re in a band too?”
“Uh-huh. That’s why it’s only open once a week. They’re performing or rehearsing every other day.” The line moved up again.
“Why have a food truck then? Food trucks run on narrow margins, they can’t be making enough money to cover their living expenses if they only do it once a week.”
“It’s not their day job. Music is.” He pointed to a piece of paper that was taped onto the side of the truck, the handwriting so faded you could barely make it out. Sungchan told you what it said anyway, “All the profits go to a local women’s shelter. And a lot of their ingredients and other stuff is donations, makes the margins a little less narrow.”
When you looked up at him curiously, he simply added, “The most punk thing you can do is help people.”
The two of you were finally at the front of the line, and a man’s head popped into view at the window. With the t-shirt he had on, you could see the tattoos that seemed to cover every inch of skin from his knuckles to his neck, the ink looking well-settled. He had gauges in his ears, the jewelry a bright rainbow of colors, and you couldn’t even count how many other piercings he had in addition to those. He seemed older than yourself and Sungchan, maybe late thirties or even early forties if you had to guess, a few specks of grey peppering his stubble.
He flashed Sungchan a bright smile as soon as he recognized him, deep crow’s feet around his eyes. “Hey, Sungchan! How are you? Sorry we missed your set Friday, SooSoo was up all night with a fever.”
“Don’t worry about it. Is she feeling better?” Sungchan asked.
“Yep, fever finally broke at like three in the morning Saturday, back to her normal self by Sunday.”
“Good to hear.”
“Anyway, let’s get you some food. I’m sure you didn’t bring your girl all the way out here to hear about my sick baby,” the older man chuckled.
Sungchan just laughed along and put in your orders. When the man turned around to help the other worker, a woman, prepare the food, you looked up at him suspiciously.
“Hm?” He had apparently noticed your look. “Oh, sorry, he was talking about his daughter, Yeonsoo. She’s… oh probably six months old now? Real cute.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Here you go.” The man was back at the window, two paper baskets of food in hand.
Sungchan went to grab a few bills out of his wallet. “How much?”
“On the house.”
“Jay, come on. Seriously, man, how much?”
“I’m serious, no charge tonight.” Jay shook his head. “You’ve never brought a date. So say thank you, don’t keep her waiting, and stop holding up my line.”
Sungchan sighed, stuffing the bills he had already grabbed into the tip jar that was on the counter and taking the food. “Thanks, man.”
“Goodnight, you two!” Jay sent you off with a jovial wave. Before you got too far, you could’ve sworn you heard a woman’s voice ask from inside the truck, “Did you say Sungchan had a date with him?”
The drummer handed you a basket of food as you started a meandering pace down the sidewalk. You took a bite to avoid talking about what just happened, despite the fact that it was very much the only thing you were thinking about.
“Oh, that’s really good,” you said, unable to contain your tone of pleasant surprise.
“I wasn’t going to take you somewhere shit for your new thing,” he replied.
“So if I told you that I had already completed my new thing for today, we would’ve gone somewhere with bad food?”
“Well, no, because I wouldn’t have believed you.”
“Oh, of course,” you scoffed.
“You probably would’ve counted going to see me at the bookstore as your something new, right?”
“I’ve never done that before. I don’t know how that doesn’t count.”
“You have talked to me at the bookstore before. When I gave you directions.”
“Yeah, but that wasn’t on purpose. And I didn’t go into the store, and it wasn’t like, a real conversation.”
“Still doesn’t count.”
“And who assigned you to decide if something counts or not? This is my thing.”
“You’re the one listening to me. I’m just some guy, remember? You could’ve told me to fuck off at any point.” He took a big bite of his food, wiping at the stray crumbs around his mouth with the back of his hand. “So either you’re really easy to peer pressure—which I doubt, considering you’ve never even gotten drunk—or you actually kind of agree with me.”
You were silent, scowling down at your rather delicious food.
“Which is it? Want me to fuck off or am I maybe kinda right?”
“Why do you even care?” You questioned in lieu of an answer. “I’m just someone who you gave directions to one time. Why do you care if I actually change my whole life with my stupid little plan?”
“Who said I care?”
“Then what is all this?”
“I’m not trying to be your life coach, Y/N.” Sungchan shrugged, then his features split into a grin. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to be along for the ride.”
You stared down at your feet as you thought about it, about how different Sungchan’s life was from yours just from the brief glimpses you’d gotten of it. Looking back up at him, you nodded. “I could probably use some help brainstorming new things…”
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
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“Hell no.”
Sungchan grabbed your arm before you could turn and walk away from him completely. When he’d texted you the address to meet at, you thought that surely the online maps listing hadn’t been updated recently, and it was actually a restaurant or concert venue, or any other litany of things. But no, you were in fact standing in front of a tattoo shop with Sungchan, as your something new for today.
“Not for you, not for you,” he quickly reassured you. “I’m getting a new one. Have you ever been in a tattoo shop?”
You bit the inside of your cheek, looking at the darkened windows apprehensively. “No…”
“I promise you’ll make it out alive,” he teased, to which you shot him an unamused glare. “Let’s go.”
Inside was surprisingly quiet. Rock music played over the speakers at a low volume, and there was already one artist set up with a client, the tattoo gun buzzing as she worked on a large piece on their calf. But really, you’d been in libraries that were louder. Sungchan guided you over to the front desk with a hand on your back, the man behind it already standing up to greet him.
“Sungchan, hey!” The guy beamed, reaching out to shake Sungchan’s free hand. He was younger, around your age, maybe a few years older, with a patchwork sleeve of dozens of colorful, bold tattoos along his arms.
“Hey, Johnny,” Sungchan shook his hand. “How are you?”
“Just got back from doing guest slots out of town, so I’m happy to get back in the groove of my usual shop.” Johnny’s twinkling eyes then focused on you. “And who’s this?”
“This is Y/N.” Sungchan seemed to smoothly sidestep mentioning who you were in relation to him. “You don’t mind if she hangs out during my appointment, right? One guest?”
“Not at all.” The artist then picked up a tablet from the counter. “Let me show you what I’ve got drawn up, hm?”
You peered around Sungchan curiously as they went over the design. It was a black and grey circle of flowers, leaves, thorns, and branches all interwoven together. A few birds hovered along the outside of it. In the corner of the canvas that the sketch was on, you could see the reference photos that Johnny had used, of an old porcelain plate that looked like it belonged in your grandmother’s china cabinet, not on a punk drummer's skin.
“It’s great, man. You nailed it,” Sungchan gave his approval.
“And for placement, you said your back, right?”
“Yeah, I was thinking left shoulder blade?” He shook off his jacket, grabbed the collar of his tank top and took it off in one go. Both him and Johnny moved around so Sungchan could see his own back in the full-length mirror propped up on a nearby wall.
“If you fill up the rest of your back in the future, you’ll have an odd hole in the middle of that shoulder from the center of this tattoo,” Johnny pointed out, tracing where the gap would be on Sungchan’s otherwise bare skin with his tablet stylus. “Unless you were to add something in the middle of this design later on. Depending on the size we do now, that might be difficult.”
“That’s a couple options. What else you think? Upper middle?”
“Yeah, centering it will look good, whether or not you fill the rest of your back, and even if you leave the middle of the ring empty,” Johnny agreed.
“Center it is then.”
“How big are you thinking?” Johnny held his hands up parallel to each other at the top of Sungchan’s spine. “This? A little bigger? I wouldn’t go any smaller or you’ll lose detail.”
“Bigger.”
Johnny moved his bottom hand down. “Hm?”
“Yeah, about that much?”
“I’ll print a couple sizes and we’ll see how it looks.”
As Johnny sat back at the desk to print out the stencils, you walked over to Sungchan, keeping your eyes on his face.
“Whose plate is that?” You asked curiously.
“How do you know I didn’t just find it on the internet and like the design?” He tilted his head.
“The cottagecore vibes really don’t match the rest of your work.”
He looked down at his own forearms and laughed. “Okay, fair. It’s my grandmother’s.”
“Hm.” You couldn’t help but smile fondly at the idea.
Johnny returned then with a couple different stencil sizes, and he and Sungchan went back to the mirror. After determining the size of the design, the area was prepped, and the stencil applied. You watched with interest as the design was transferred from the paper to Sungchan’s skin in purple ink.
“Go check that in the mirror,” Johnny instructed.
Sungchan stood back up from where he had laid down for the application, using a second mirror in his hand to look at it closer. He motioned with his head for you to join him. “What do you think? Is it centered?”
You got up from the stool that you had been given to walk over to the mirror as well, standing behind Sungchan to evaluate the placement of the stencil. “Stand up straight. And straighten out your shoulders, you know you slouch?”
Johnny snickered from his seat.
Squinting one eye closed, then the other, you finally gave a short nod. “Yeah, it’s fine.”
“That’s the best you can hope for with her, Johnny,” Sungchan joked, returning to the padded table to lay down. “‘Fine.’”
You rolled your eyes, but took your seat on the side opposite from the tattoo artist anyway.
“High praise. Let’s do it,” Johnny grinned.
As Johnny got to work, you watched the first few strokes of his tattoo gun with interest, as the ink was deposited into Sungchan’s skin.
“You have any tattoos, Y/N?” Johnny asked, not looking up from his work.
“No,” you replied. Looking at Sungchan’s face next, which was mostly concealed by his arms and the pillow, he didn’t have any outward expression of pain. “Does it… hurt?”
The both of them chuckled, and you tried not to feel patronized, then Sungchan answered, “You ever been scratched by a cat?”
“Yeah…”
“It’s like that, but worse, and continuously.”
“Doesn’t sound pleasant.”
“It’s worse if you’re by bone,” Johnny added. “Or other sensitive areas.”
“Again, doesn’t sound pleasant.”
“An hour or so of unpleasantness in exchange for a lifetime of a cool tattoo,” Sungchan said in a tone of voice that made you think he would’ve shrugged if it weren’t for the tattoo gun currently on his upper back. “Easy trade-off if you ask me.”
“So how did you two meet?” Johnny’s voice didn’t carry any judgment, if anything he almost sounded amused.
“She came by the bookshop,” Sungchan answered simply. “You know, one of my day jobs.”
“Now that makes sense. No offense, Y/N, but you seem much more like a bookstore and coffee shops kind of girl than a basement mosh pit regular.”
You nodded slowly. “None taken… What you see is what you get with me.”
“Oh, she’s been trying new things,” Sungchan chuckled. “She’s been to a show.”
“And? What’d you think?” Johnny looked up at you eagerly.
You were a bit caught off-guard. Sungchan hadn’t even asked you if you liked his band’s performance. He’d commented on the fact that you’d showed up, who you were with, and that you left without seeing the other bands perform. But he never asked if you liked it.
“It was different for me,” you admitted. “Good different. I had fun.”
“Yeah, they’ve got a lot of heart, don’t they?” You could see the tug of Johnny’s smile at the corner of his mouth.
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At the end of the appointment, Sungchan had one new tattoo and you were hungry. After paying Johnny and giving the artist your goodbyes, the two of you stepped back out onto the sidewalk in front of the tattoo parlor. It was dark out already, and you looked up at the moon, just past the streetlamp shining down on you.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Sungchan declared. “Dinner?”
“Sure,” you agreed. “But, I pick. I’ve already done my one new thing for today, and I’m craving fries.”
“Hard to argue with that.”
The place you had in mind was only a few blocks away from Johnny’s tattoo shop. As soon as you walked in, however, you wanted to turn back around. But you were craving fries and had already been spotted. Jeno perked up curiously from behind the counter, giving you a friendly wave. Honestly, you should’ve considered this as a possibility when you brought Sungchan into his place of work. You smiled back as you stepped up to the register.
“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted you brightly, clearly interested in who you had with you, but not outright asking as his gaze strayed over to Sungchan.
“Hey, Jeno,” you said. “I didn’t realize you were working tonight.”
“Coworker got sick, I picked up a shift,” he explained. “So what can I get you? Your usual?”
“Just the fries and milkshake.” You then pointed to Sungchan with your thumb. “And whatever he wants. I’m paying.”
“Y/N—” Sungchan was clearly about to argue.
“You got it last time. Kind of.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “And they take card here. So order.”
He held his hands up. “Alright, alright.”
Picking a table in the corner as far from the cash register as you could get, you waited for Jeno to call your order number out as usual. Except this time he brought the food right out to your table on a tray. You eyed him suspiciously as he walked over.
“Here’s your food,” he smiled brightly at the both of you, taking the food off the tray to set the individual items in front of you.
“Right, thanks, Jeno,” you said. When he was still standing there after he was done, you looked at him more pointedly, “I’m not tipping you again if that’s what you’re waiting for. Goodbye, Jeno.”
“Enjoy your meal!” He took off back behind the counter.
Sungchan watched him for a moment before turning back to his food. “He was at the show.”
“Yeah, he was.”
“Your sturdy friend.”
“Yup.” You grabbed your first fry.
“The show, that reminds me—” Sungchan stopped in the middle of his sentence, sandwich halfway up to his mouth. “Uh, I think your friend just took a picture of us.”
Your phone buzzed then, and you checked the notification from your lockscreen, letting out a deep sigh. “He definitely did.”
[jeno: attached image]
[jeno: ⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️]
“Hold on, sorry,” you apologized as you unlocked your phone to properly open the message.
As soon as you started typing a scathing text about privacy, another text came through.
[jeno: FUCK WRONG GROUP CHAT]
[you: wtf do you assholes have a gc without me in it??]
You looked over at the register, shooting Jeno a glare as he was very obviously trying not to look at you. His entire face, ears, and neck were visibly pink from the other side of the restaurant.
[jeno: it was to plan your surprise party last year!]
[jaem: Y/N ON A DATE CONFIRMED???????]
[renjunnie: jeno you’re an idiot]
[hyuck: wait jeno take another picture of his face im trying to see smth]
A large group of teenagers entered then, and Jeno had to quickly put his phone away to take their orders.
Sungchan had been quietly eating his food the whole time, and raised an eyebrow as you put your phone down with a groan. “Everything alright?”
“Sorry about that…” You let out another sigh. “So what you were saying? The show?”
“Oh, I’m glad you liked the set.” He looked almost self-conscious as he spoke, a small smile on his face as he ran a hand through his hair. “You hadn’t said anything about whether or not you actually liked the show, so I figured it might not have been your thing, you know? Or, you at least told Johnny you liked it…”
“You didn’t ask.”
“Didn’t want to seem like I was fishing for compliments.”
“I had fun,” you assured him, grabbing another fry. “I’m still surprised you could even see me. It was packed in there.”
“You were easy to spot,” he teased.
“You didn’t exactly give me a dress code.”
“If I did, would you have been able to dress for it?”
You pursed your lips as you thought for a moment, then relented, “…No.”
He shrugged off his jacket and offered you the garment. “Here, so you’ll blend in better next time.”
You accepted it, already giddy at the idea of a ‘next time.’ “Then how will you spot me?”
“I think I’ll manage.”
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[jeno: attached image]
[jeno: no need to see his face, hyuck. its definitely the drummer from the basement]
[hyuck: fuckin knew it]
[jaem: are we SURE those are the same tattoos?? maybe y/n knows another guy with sleeves???]
[renjunnie: still the same gc, dumbasses]
[you: jeno don’t be a weirdo challenge FAILED]
[jeno: definitely the same guy, jaemin]
[you: im gonna get you fired lee jeno]
[jeno: my rent :( ]
[hyuck: y/n out here trying to SILENCE independent investigative journalists and whistleblowers i see 🫵]
[you: OR i was trying to eat in peace and meanwhile you guys are having your weekly ‘being the most obnoxious guy ever’ competition and somehow jeno is winning this time]
[jeno: :(( ]
[jaem: you were on a DATE with drummer guy and didnt tell us???]
[you: omfg because it wasn’t a date? im allowed to hang out with people who aren’t you four]
[jaem: no youre not?]
[hyuck: since when?]
[renjunnie: and since when do you know people who aren’t us lmao]
[you: im gonna block all of you]
[jeno: :'( ]
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Thursday night and you were back in the basement. This time you didn’t bring any of your friends, not wanting to subject them to an experience that they clearly hadn’t enjoyed last time, and also to save yourself from having to explain why exactly you were back in the basement again and wearing Sungchan’s leather jacket. Due to the oppressive body heat around you, you just had it draped over your shoulders, but made sure to grab either side and hold it tight to not lose it as you maneuvered through the crowd. You unfortunately barely had time to run home and grab the jacket on your way here, as your boss kept your whole team late after hours today working on an urgent deadline. You were still wearing your work clothes; you didn’t trust yourself to change quickly without freaking out over what to wear and ending up missing Sungchan’s short set.
Just as you had wormed your way into a good enough spot towards the front and near the drumset, the band walked out from the adjoining room, waving to everyone. It was easy to spot Sungchan, not only because he was the tallest, but because he wasn’t even wearing a shirt this time, as opposed to the others, who were all wearing a tank top or t-shirt of some sort. His gaze was very clearly searching the crowd for something, and stopped as soon as it landed on you. You gave him a small wave, and he smiled back as he headed to his spot.
You weren’t sure if they had set up the speakers differently this time, if your ears were just used to the volume now, or if you were positioned better than before, but you could actually understand what the frontman was saying as he introduced the band.
“Hey! How is everyone?” His voice was cheerful, and you couldn’t help but laugh as the crowd cheered back. “First, uh, big thanks as always to our buddy Anton for having us. Second, if you don’t know us, that’s fine, nobody does.”
Everyone let out a unanimous round of chuckles, and the frontman was smiling too.
“Anyway, we are Roses for Eyes. I’m Shotaro, that’s Wonbin—” He pointed to the other guitarist, then the bassist, “—That’s Eunseok over there—” and finally Sungchan, “—And we’ve got Sungchan on the drums. And we’re supposed to be performing for you guys, not reading you our non-existent Wikipedia page. Here’s the first one, ‘Lonely as Mars,’ hope you all like it.”
From the first kick of the bass drum, you couldn’t take your eyes off Sungchan. The music reverberated through your chest, and this time you could hear their voices, and the words they were singing. They were good, you decided, and you liked it. But your focus never left the drummer. He had the same relaxed, easy-going smirk on his face as the last time he played, arms flexing with each hit of his sticks.
The set simultaneously felt like ten years and ten seconds. It was a blur, and before you knew it, Shotaro was once again speaking into the mic to give the crowd another thank you and goodnight. He, Eunseok, and Wonbin took their instruments with them. Sungchan tucked his drumsticks into the back pocket of his jeans as he stood up and followed his bandmates. With no friends urging you to leave, and what certainly seemed like an infinitely long list of reasons to stick around, you stayed put exactly where you were. Exactly where Sungchan knew you were.
The next band had just come out when you felt a hand grab your arm. Turning around, you knew who exactly that hand would belong to. Sungchan had found a shirt somewhere between performing and now, a tank top that didn’t cover much more than before. And despite him having just been performing a few moments ago, nobody in the crowd seemed to notice him, all their focus on the next act.
“You did good!” You had to shout over the music of the band currently performing.
He bent down to talk right into your ear. “It’s loud over here.”
You let him guide you to a corner further back from the crowd with an arm around your shoulders. There were a few other people back there, either smoking, making out, or both. You rested your back against the wall, looking up at Sungchan, who leaned over you with his hand on the wall next to your head. You opened your mouth, about to repeat what you had said out on the floor.
“Fuck, you look so hot in my jacket,” Sungchan groaned, sufficiently wiping all previous trains of thought from your brain. His fingers messed with the zipper teeth of one side, eyes scanning your whole frame.
“I feel a bit silly wearing it with the pantsuit, but I got hung up at work and didn’t want to be late…” You trailed off, noticing that his gaze was definitely now on your mouth. Tilting your head, you asked teasingly, “Sungchan, are you flirting with me?”
“Have been for like three weeks now, thanks for noticing.”
“Unfortunately, we can’t count this as my something new. I’ve been to one of your sets before, at this exact basement,” you sighed wistfully, latching onto his free arm and pulling him even closer to you.
“Mm, good point.” His hand grabbed your waist. “I think we can come up with something to do tonight that you haven’t done before.”
“I think I’ve got one.”
“Oh, here I thought I was the ideas guy?”
You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling his mouth down to yours. Sungchan let out another low sound against your lips, grip on your waist tightening as he pushed you back into the wall as hard as you were pulling him down with you. He dropped from leaning on his hand to his forearm, caging you in closer. Your hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair was shamelessly feeling up the muscles of his arm and shoulder. When he softly sank his teeth into your bottom lip, you couldn’t help but dig your fingernails into his tricep in surprise, pushing your hips up against his insistently.
“Fuck, Sungchan,” you panted against his mouth when he pulled back for a brief moment of air, his thigh now wedged between yours.
“God, you’re so—” He pressed his lips to yours again, hand at the small of your back to pull you as close to him as possible. If you thought you were warm before packed in the crowd, you were in a stifling heat now, pinned between Sungchan’s body and the wall. He broke the kiss, asking between deep breaths, “Can—Can I take you home?”
“What about the other bands?” You giggled, lips ghosting over his as you spoke.
“Fuck the other bands,” he replied immediately. “As soon I saw you out in the crowd wearing my jacket, could barely focus on the set because you looked so good.”
“Yes, Sungchan.” You kissed him again. “You can take me home.”
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As soon as Sungchan’s front door was shut, he had you pressed up against it again. You pulled at his flimsy tank top as his tongue slipped past your lips. Finally, he gave in to your persistent hands and let you pull it off him.
“Honestly, don’t even know why you bother with shirts at this point,” you scoffed, throwing it off towards the side somewhere.
“With how much I’ve spent on tattoos? I agree,” he chuckled, cupping your cheek to pull your mouth to his again.
Still attached to each other, you’d only succeeded at getting Sungchan’s belt unbuckled by the time you made it to his bedroom. Before you could unbutton his pants, however, he stepped back from you, familiar teasing glint in his eyes.
“Well this isn’t very fair, don’t you think?” He gestured between his half-dressed state and your fully dressed self.
“I thought you liked me in your jacket?” You taunted, wrapping the garment tighter around yourself.
“Which is why you’ve got to let me take it off you.” He put his hands together in a pleading motion. “And the pantsuit…”
“Mm, alright.” You dropped your hands from the jacket.
He circled behind you, hovering close to remove his leather jacket from your shoulders, pressing kisses to your neck as he did so. With him no longer blocking the rest of his bedroom from your view, you couldn’t help but be a little surprised at the presence of one thing.
“You know, I was mentally prepared for you to not have a bedframe,” you commented as he took off your blazer next.
“You got mattress-on-the-ground vibes from me and still came home with me?” Sungchan asked incredulously, letting out a breathy laugh. His deft fingers started unbuttoning your blouse next. “I think I’m flattered? And you’ve got to raise your standards.”
You turned around to face him, feeling the smirk on your face as you replied, “Let’s see how high we can raise those standards, hm?”
“Is that a challenge or what?” Sungchan laughed again, wasting no time in attaching his lips and teeth to your neck, dropping your blouse off your shoulders and to the floor.
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When the garish blaring of your work alarm came, you reached over to the right to blindly grab your phone off your nightstand. Instead, your hand hit what felt like someone’s face, and you jolted up in bed as they did as well, already swearing.
“Fuck, Y/N.” Sungchan was holding his eye. “What the hell was that for? That’s not my alarm.”
Blinking a couple times to orient yourself first, you then jerked over to grab your phone off the floor on your left side. Sungchan may have had a bedframe, but he did only have one nightstand. You quickly turned off your alarm and fell back onto the mattress. You weren’t going to be able to go back to sleep, having been sufficiently scared awake, but you needed a second to catch your breath.
“Work alarm…” You explained belatedly, in case that wasn’t apparent.
Sungchan made a grunt of acknowledgement, dropping his hand from his face as he laid back down as well. He rolled over towards you, slinging an arm around your waist and burying his face in your shoulder. You stared up at his ceiling, feeling his warm breaths washing over the skin of your arm.
“Mars isn’t lonely,” you blurted out into his still-dark room.
“What?” He mumbled into your shoulder.
“It’s got two moons.”
Sungchan shifted around, propping his head up with his other hand to be able to talk. “Yes… Phobos and Deimos. Named for the Greek gods of fear and dread, respectively.”
“So to be lonely as Mars… with fear and dread as your only companions.”
“That was the idea, when we wrote it.” He brushed hair back from your face. “Don’t tell me the title of one of our songs kept you up all night.”
“No, was just kind of in the back of my mind.” You felt a sudden prickling along your skin as his hand fell to your arm, fingers playing with the sleeve hem of the t-shirt you were wearing—his. Sitting up out of his grasp, you pushed the covers off of you. “I have to get ready for work.”
Sungchan wordlessly watched you gather up your clothes from the floor and get dressed. When you went into the adjoining bathroom to check the tuck of your shirt into your pants and make other adjustments, he followed, leaning in the doorway with a troubled look on his face.
“Am I just something new, Y/N?” He asked bluntly, arms crossed over his chest.
“Am I just entertainment?” You immediately fired back, trying to smooth out a wrinkle that your blouse had acquired from sitting crumpled on the floor all night.
“What? Why would you think that?” He seemed genuinely confused.
“‘I don’t care. I just want to be along for the ride.’” You paraphrased what he said when he agreed to help you with your plan. “Am I just entertainment?”
His features softened. “No, you’re not entertainment.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, shoulders falling as they lost the tension they’d just held. “No, Sungchan, you’re not just something new.”
He walked over to you with a wide grin on his face, cupping your cheek and pressing his lips to yours. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss too, giving him one more peck before turning back to fixing your attire in the mirror. There was nothing you could do right now about the wrinkles, but you could at least attempt something with your hair.
Sungchan stepped behind you, resting his hands on your hips and pulling you back into him. He placed a few lazy kisses along your neck, murmuring, “I think the pantsuit is growing on me, actually.”
“Then why are you trying to take it off me?” You questioned, grabbing his hand that had been reaching for your blouse buttons again.
“Because I like what’s under it better.”
“Nice try. I have work.” You spun out of his arms, heading for his bedroom door.
Two steps into the hall, you knew something was wrong. There were other voices in Sungchan’s apartment, which stopped when they saw you. As soon as your eyes registered the three men in the living room, you skittered backwards back into Sungchan’s room again.
Practically slamming his door closed behind you, you didn’t let him get whatever surprised statement he had out of his mouth, as you hissed, “Sungchan! Why is your whole fucking band out there?”
“Probably because your work alarm woke them up too,” he laughed, which turned into a yawn as he stretched his arms over his head. “They’re not really early birds…”
“Why are they here?”
“They live here?”
In your rush to get into Sungchan’s bedroom last night, you had somehow missed any signs of three other people living here. You didn’t even hear them come home last night, and you weren’t exactly… quiet yourself. Definitely not three roommates quiet.
“Oh my god…” You sunk down against the door, shaking your head. “I’m just going to stay in here and die, I think.”
“I thought you had work?” Sungchan pointed out smugly.
“Ugh…” You groaned, covering your face with your hands.
“Y/N, they’ve already seen you. Here, I’ll walk you out. Will that help?” He offered, pulling on a shirt and his leather jacket.
“Fine, I’m gonna be late if I stay any longer.”
He held a hand out to you, and you placed yours in it for him to pull you to your feet. “Let’s go.”
The chatter that had started up again in your absence died down as soon as the bedroom door opened. Sure enough, the other three members of Roses for Eyes were sprawled out across the living room exactly where you’d left them. Shotaro was sideways in an armchair, Switch in hand as his thumbs moved over the controls quickly. Eunseok was sleepily eating a bowl of cereal on the couch, while Wonbin didn’t actually look awake, slumped against Eunseok’s shoulder with his eyes closed.
“Morning, guys,” Sungchan nodded to them as you walked by, still ushering you to the door.
Eunseok wordlessly held his hand out palm-up towards the armchair, and you saw Shotaro smack a few bills down into it.
At the front door, you were just ready to leave. Patting Sungchan’s arm, you gave him a nod and hushed, “Bye.”
Turning to grab the door handle, you heard Sungchan’s voice, nowhere near the whisper yours was.
“Baby, you almost forgot—” Sungchan stopped you, grabbing your hand and spinning you back around.
The sudden pet name made your skin burn. “What is it, Sungchan? My phone?” You started patting your pockets.
He took off the leather jacket that he just put on, putting it squarely on your shoulders. “Oh, and—” He cradled your face with two hands, kissing you.
It was short, sweet, and made your knees feel like jelly. When he’d pulled away, still holding your face, you whispered in the small space between you, “I’m going to be late.”
“Have a good day at work.” He smiled, letting you go and opening the door for you.
With a sigh, Eunseok gave the money back to Shotaro.
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You weren’t late that morning, thankfully, but your mind was still in the stratosphere as you bustled around the breakroom making yourself coffee. You’d left Sungchan’s jacket hanging off the back of your chair; it wasn’t exactly in dress code for your office.
“Morning, Y/N,” Renjun said through a yawn, shuffling into the breakroom as well. He paused as he seemed to be taking in your clothes. “Am I crazy or did you wear that yesterday?”
“The only thing worse than an outfit repeater is an outfit remember-er,” you jested back.
“No, I mean like…” He got closer, rubbing his eyes as he peered at your blouse. “You didn’t wash them. They’re all wrinkled and—You got laid.”
“Or I need to do laundry.”
He pointed to your neck. “Hickey.”
“Damn, you caught me breaking my undying vow of chastity—oh wait,” you retorted sarcastically.
He held his hands up. “Hey, no slut-shaming here. Love that for you. One question?”
“What?”
“Was it drummer guy?”
You looked around the breakroom as you stirred sugar into your coffee. “…Yes.”
Renjun chuckled and grabbed a coffee mug. “Something new every day…”
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“Why can’t you just get the food delivered?” You complained, pulling Sungchan’s blankets tighter around you as the bed grew cold without him in there with you.
He hopped on one foot as he pulled a shoe on. “Because the delivery charge is as much as the food is, baby. And it’s just around the block.”
You huffed dramatically, watching him start searching the sheets for his phone. He secured it in his hand victoriously, tucking it in his back pocket.
“You could come with me, you know,” he pointed out, mischievous hands already reaching for the covers and pulling them down, revealing your bare legs to the cold air conditioning. “But you’d have to put pants on.”
You yanked the blankets back over you. “I’ll wait.”
He snickered, leaning down to press his lips to yours. “Be back in a few.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you sighed, kissing him again.
He dropped one more peck to your forehead before standing up straight and heading out, shutting his door behind him. You snuggled back under the covers, pulling the blanket up over your shoulders as you tried to enjoy the fleeting warmth left over as you scrolled on your phone. Sungchan had only been gone for a few minutes when you heard the front door open again. You perked up with interest. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d be back soon. Then there were a couple light knocks on the bedroom door. Not Sungchan. One of his bandmates must have come home.
You scrambled to throw the sheets off you and grab a pair of your shorts from Sungchan’s floor, putting your legs through them as you stumbled towards the door. Opening it just enough to peer out, you saw Wonbin on the other side, a plastic grocery bag in his hand. He didn’t seem surprised to see you at all.
“…Hi?” You greeted him hesitantly. You had been seeing Sungchan for a couple weeks now, and had caught glimpses of his roommates around his apartment, but had yet to say much more than the occasional ‘morning’ or ‘night’ or ‘hey’ in passing.
Wonbin held up the plastic bag. “Can you help me dye my hair?”
“Oh, uh, sure.” You looked down at what you were wearing, one of Sungchan’s black t-shirts. “What color? Should I change? Like, is it bleach?”
“Black. That’s fine.” He turned around, walking back down the hall.
You followed him as he opened another one of the doors, this one leading to a bathroom. As he prepped the dye, you read the pamphlet of instructions carefully.
“I’ll do the mixing,” he interrupted your deep focus. “I just can’t see the back of my head.”
“Oh. Okay.” You set the directions down on the counter next to the bottles. “I’ve never done this before… Don’t want to ruin your hair.”
He shrugged, handing you a pair of gloves. “If you miss a spot, we’ll just do it again.”
After Wonbin mixed up the dye, he sat on the edge of the tub for you to stand over him and start applying it to his hair. As you worked the dark dye into his blonde hair, you watched his soft waves straighten out.
“I liked the blonde curls,” you commented, moving onto the next section.
“Me too.” He flicked through his music library on his phone. “Time for something new, you know?”
“Yeah, I get that,” you smiled to yourself, adding more dye.
“What music do you like?”
“Oh, put on whatever you want. I’m trying to broaden my horizons.”
He wordlessly selected a song, a soft guitar melody coming through the speakers. It was so different from the music that you’d heard them perform, your hands slowed as you listened thoughtfully.
“Is that why you’re dating Sungchan?” Wonbin’s question caught you off-guard.
“What?” You parted his hair, double-checking that you had gotten every bit of blonde in that section.
“You’re broadening your horizons.” He picked at his nail polish that was already chipped. “Is that why you’re dating Sungchan?”
“Something like that.” Satisfied that you had fully saturated that area, you went to the next one. “I also just like him.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Why? Because we’re so different?”
“No, because he’s lame.”
You laughed right as you had started squeezing more dye out, missing his head as the liquid dripped right down the back of his neck instead. Wonbin hissed in surprise, shoulders jumping.
“Oh! Sorry!” You were still laughing as you grabbed the end of the towel that was around his shoulders, wiping at the stray hair dye.
Shotaro came home soon after that, joining the two of you in the bathroom, hopping up on the bathroom counter to watch you apply the hair dye. He showed off his new nose ring that he just got, and tsked when he saw Wonbin’s chipped nail polish.
“We’re gonna have to redo that, Wonbin,” the frontman shook his head. “After Y/N’s done with your hair.”
“Once it’s applied, it’s got to sit for thirty minutes,” you recalled the instructions. “Will that be long enough?”
“Plenty.”
You were a little more than halfway done with Wonbin’s hair when Sungchan finally got back.
“Wonbin? Taro? You guys here?” He called out into the apartment. “Y/N’s here too by the—”
He’d poked his head into the bathroom then, brown paper bag of food in hand. You gave him a wave with your hair dye-covered, gloved hand.
“Hi, Sungchan,” you smiled. “That was more than a few minutes.”
“Clearly,” he gestured to the scene in front of him. “I leave you for like twelve minutes and my bandmates adopt you.”
“We can eat once I finish applying Wonbin’s hair dye.”
“Sure.”
“What’d you get?” Shotaro leaned over towards the bag with interest.
“Only four extra crab rangoons. Fight over them however you want.” Sungchan pulled out a smaller bag from within the takeout bag.
Wonbin and Shotaro locked eyes.
“None for Eunseok?” Shotaro proposed.
Wonbin nodded minutely, as much as he could with some of his hair still in your hands. The front door slammed closed then, and they both groaned.
“I smell chemicals!” Eunseok yelled out. “What is it this time, Wonbin? Purple? Red? Both?”
The bassist appeared in the doorway behind Sungchan, peeking over his shoulder at everyone. “Oh hey, Y/N.”
“Hi, Eunseok.” You nodded to him, applying more dye.
“Shotaro, are those crab rangoons you’re hiding behind your back?”
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A random Sunday afternoon found you at Sungchan’s apartment, as you seemed to be most days now. If you weren’t at work, at one of his gigs, or with your own friends, it was a safe bet that you could be found there.
He opened the door for you, pecking your cheek in greeting, “Hi, baby.”
“I know what we’re doing today,” you blurted out, before you could lose your nerve. “My something new.”
He tilted his head curiously. “And? What is it?”
You took a deep breath. “I’m going to get my ears pierced. Second lobe piercings, I already have the first done. I’ve been wanting to do it for like forever, but I just… haven’t. It’s allowed at my work, I checked the employee handbook, and asked someone from HR on Friday to be extra sure.”
Sungchan beamed at you. “Hell yeah. We can use Shotaro’s piercer, unless you’ve already looked someone up?”
“Whoever Shotaro goes to will be fine.”
Wonbin was taking a nap on the couch in the afternoon sunlight, and you walked past him to get to the hall where Shotaro and Eunseok’s rooms were. Shotaro’s door was ajar already, and Sungchan pushed it open the rest of the way. The frontman was laid out on his bed upside down, his feet kicked up on the wall as he lazily plucked out a melody on an acoustic guitar. Eunseok was in there too, scrawling away at a notebook at the guitarist’s desk.
“Who do you go to for your piercings?” Sungchan didn’t give either of them so much as a hello.
Shotaro craned his neck to look over at the two of you. “Huh? Oh, uh, Sid, at Black Cat in downtown. Why? What are you getting?”
“Not for me,” Sungchan informed him happily, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
Eunseok’s head snapped up from where he had been focused on his notebook, and Shotaro set his instrument aside to roll over and fully face you.
“Y/N?!” Shotaro’s jaw dropped in delight. “What are you getting?”
“Ah, just my second lobes…” you muttered self-consciously, hands instinctively feeling at the jewelry that you already had in your existing piercings. You pushed further into Sungchan’s side to hide your face from them, especially when the bassist muttered a ‘woah’ at this revelation.
“Sid taking walk-ins today?” Sungchan asked.
“She should be. You know what? I’ll call her right now.” Shotaro eagerly brought out his phone.
After he confirmed that Sid was, in fact, taking walk-ins, Sungchan went to get changed as Eunseok and Shotaro put shoes on as well, ushering you towards the front door. All the commotion woke Wonbin up, as he sleepily lifted his head up and rubbed one of his eyes, watching the four of you.
“Where are you guys going?” Wonbin squinted against the sun.
“Y/N’s getting pierced!” Shotaro announced brightly.
“I’m coming.”
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At Black Cat, which you learned was a tattoo and piercing shop, you met with Sid, a young woman who was no older than you, and told her what you wanted. She nodded, looking at your ears for just a second.
“Easy. How old were you when you got the first ones done?” She asked, pulling out a tray of jewelry from under the counter she was standing behind.
“Thirteen maybe? I know it was done with one of those piercing guns…” You admitted sheepishly.
“We don’t use those here.” She shook her head. “Injures the tissue too much. I’ll be using a needle, should take like half a second on each side. I’ll explain everything back at the station where I can show you all the tools.”
You nodded. “Okay.”
“I’ll give you a minute to pick your jewelry while I prep the station.” With that, she walked towards the back of the shop.
Everyone huddled around while you browsed through the options, seeming to have their own input. You finally settled on a pair of studs with small diamonds in them, not too outlandish; you’d be able to easily match them with the rest of your jewelry and any outfits you wore to work easily while the piercings healed.
“You nervous?” Sungchan murmured, rubbing your back as Shotaro and Wonbin wandered over towards the other end of the clear case of jewelry, looking at industrial piercings. Eunseok flipped through a book of flash tattoo options.
You shook your head. “No. Excited.”
“So you’re not gonna need to hold my hand?”
“I didn’t say that…”
As Sid walked back over, the others crowded around you excitedly again.
“Do you all really need to be here? It’s not that big of a deal…” You muttered, a bit embarrassed at how hyped they were over you just getting a couple ear piercings.
“I’m with Y/N on this one. Only you can come back.” She pointed at Sungchan. “The rest of you will have to wait up front.”
Sitting on the padded chair at Sid’s station, she walked you through each step and the tools she’d be using first, then marked where the piercings would go on your ears.
“Check the placement.” She handed you a handheld mirror.
You appraised them, then looked up at Sungchan. “What do you think? Even?”
“Sit up straight. And straighten out your shoulders, did you know you slouch?” He teased, grabbing your shoulders and straightening them out for you.
You glared up at him, but fixed your posture nevertheless.
“They look good, baby,” he approved, squeezing your arm.
Sungchan stood off to your side, holding your hand as Sid got ready on the on the first ear.
“Alright. One, two—” At the pinch, you squeezed Sungchan’s hand tighter, face screwing up in surprise.
She moved to the other side. “Next. One, two—” Pinch. “All done.”
“Wooh!” The other three cheered from up front, pumping their fists and jumping up and down.
“Fuck yeah, Y/N!” Eunseok yelled out.
“Baby’s first body mod!” Shotaro pretended to wipe a tear from under his eye. “They grow up so fast…”
“So pretty, baby,” Sungchan kissed your cheek, a wide grin on his face when he pulled back. He wiped at the single actual tear that had spilled over from your own eye. “So proud of you.”
Your face hurt from how much you were smiling, more than your ears did.
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“Y/N!” Jaemin stood up from the table as soon as he saw you, pulling you in for a hug. The two of you were meeting up on your respective lunch breaks at a café equidistant from your workplaces.
“Hi Jaem—Ow!” You hissed as his head bumped into your ear.
“What? What’s wrong?” He pulled back, clearly worried.
“It’s nothing, sorry.” You cradled the wounded ear, giving him a reassuring smile. “I finally got my second lobes done the other day and they’re still tender.”
“Let me see!”
You tucked your hair behind your ears to show off the small diamonds. “Just some studs…”
“Cool. They look good.” He was still smiling as the two of you sat down. “What made you want to do that?”
“I’ve been talking about it for a while.”
“Yeah, I know. What made you finally get them?”
“Something spontaneous or new every day, remember?”
“Well, I’m happy you finally did it. Seems your little quarter life crisis is actually working, huh?”
“Sungchan’s been helping me,” you acknowledged, watching his face carefully.
His eyebrows lifted slightly. “The drummer guy?”
“Yeah, I’ve been seeing him...” You sat forward, lacing your hands together in front of you on the table. “Speaking of—Dinner tomorrow, I figured I could bring him? You guys could all meet?”
Jaemin rubbed the back of his neck, tone turning remorseful. “Damn, Y/N, I wish you’d told me sooner. I already made the reservation for five people.”
“You can’t call back and change it to six?”
“Limited space.”
“There’s not a lot of five-person tables. Wouldn’t they be putting us at one that seats six anyway?”
“If I change it, we’ll be bumped to the bottom of the list again.”
“Oh. That’s alright, another time,” you acquiesced as your waiter came over, handing you menus.
“Another time,” your friend agreed.
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You were in the ‘green room’ of Anton’s basement, which was actually the laundry alcove that had a few chairs set up for the acts to sit and wait before they went on. All of Roses for Eyes were back there, chatting as the time for their set to start got closer.
“You know what I’m craving?” Sungchan hummed in your ear.
“What is that?” You turned to look at him out of the corner of your vision from your current position on his lap.
“Fries from that place where your sturdy friend works.”
“He has a name,” you laughed, pinching his forearm. “Do you want to go get some after this? They’re open late.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
“After the day I had at work, I’ve earned a milkshake,” you sighed, leaning back against him.
Sungchan wrapped his arms around your waist, and you could hear the frown in his voice as he asked, “What happened, baby?”
“You’re about to go on, I’ll tell you later,” you promised. “Just my boss—”
“Yo! Roses!” Anton poked his head into the room just then. “Two minutes! Let’s go!”
You got up from Sungchan’s lap as the others started grabbing their instruments. “I should go grab a spot.”
“Okay…” He cupped your cheek to bring your mouth to his. “See you in a minute, baby.”
“See you.”
You picked your way through the crowd until you found a group of familiar faces: Anton, and two more regulars and friends of Roses for Eyes, Sohee and Seunghan. When the band still hadn’t come out after a few minutes, you got on your tiptoes to look over the crowd towards the green room.
“Wonder what’s keeping them?” You mused, dropping back onto flat feet again.
“Oh, Jay and Hayoung popped in there right after you left,” Anton explained. “Said they wanted to talk to them.”
“I thought they already left,” Seunghan commented.
“No, their tour starts in a couple weeks, I think,” Sohee explained. “Or at least, the tickets I have aren’t until next month.”
“Is that for the Venue:Hell show?”
“Yeah, are you going?”
“Waiting to get paid then I’ll buy my ticket.”
“Anton and I have an extra,” Sohee offered. “He was going to bring that girl he was seeing, but we all know how that worked out.”
“No need to rub it in my face,” Anton grumbled as the other two simultaneously snickered and tried to comfort him. He then turned to you. “Where’d Sungchan find you, anyway?”
“Oh, uh, I got lost and asked him for directions at the bookstore he works at,” you answered, knowing that wasn’t going to help your friend very much.
“You’re useless to me.”
You laughed and patted his back. “I’m sorry, Anton. Maybe instead of trying to find someone the same way Sungchan and I met, you should just try meeting different people. Sungchan could tell that I wasn’t into this kind of stuff at all when we met, and still tried anyway.”
“Alright, got any pantsuit-wearing friends you can set me up with?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
It was then that Roses for Eyes finally started walking out, Sungchan at the front. They seemed to be even more energetic than usual during their set, and you could feel it radiate out through the whole room. You couldn’t stop jumping, dancing, and singing along to the songs that you had finally learned the lyrics to.
When they were done, Shotaro gave their usual thank-you and goodbye before leaving. By the time the next act was starting their first song, Roses for Eyes had joined the rest of you in the crowd.
“You guys did so good!” You praised them, squeezing Shotaro’s forearm as you wrapped your other arm around Sungchan’s waist. “Like, I think that was like the best set I’ve ever seen!”
“Thanks, baby,” Sungchan laughed breathlessly, kissing your temple and pulling you even closer with an arm around your shoulders. “You looked like you were having a good time.”
“She’s right, you guys had a lot of energy up there,” Seunghan complimented them as well.
“What did Hayoung and Jay want, by the way?” Anton asked. “They kept you guys for a while.”
The band exchanged uncertain looks, Eunseok, Wonbin, and Shotaro looking to Sungchan as if waiting for his cue.
He shrugged and squeezed your shoulder. “Just dropping by before they go on tour, you know?”
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The rest of Roses for Eyes declined accompanying you and Sungchan for your midnight snack, so it was just the two of you squished into the same side of a booth, Sungchan taking sips from your milkshake as you stole fries from his plate.
“Tell me about work,” he prompted you, nudging your leg with his.
“Oh, God, it was just… long,” you groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “Felt like it would never end. My boss put off starting his part of this project until literally the day before our deadline to send it to the VP, which meant I had to rush to finalize everything. Meanwhile, he was breathing down my neck the whole time about the deadline! Like! Dude, I fucking know! We wouldn’t be cutting it so close if he had done his part earlier!”
“That’s really inconsiderate.” Sungchan frowned, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry, baby, that sounds really stressful.”
“But we got it submitted, so that’s all that matters, I guess,” you sighed. “You were right, Sungchan. I hate my job.”
His hand stilled on your back, just resting there as you sat in the wake of your admission.
“You remember my friends from the food truck?” He asked, abruptly changing topics.
“Yeah, Jay and Hayoung.”
“Well, we actually got an offer to open for their band on tour,” he told you, voice pitching up with excitement. That must’ve been what they were discussing before their set tonight. “It’ll be for a couple months.”
“Oh… congrats. I know this is big for you guys. Have fun.” You smiled, trying to hide the sudden emptiness inside you as you tried to imagine what your days would look like without Sungchan or the rest of his bandmates for two whole months. “When do you leave?”
“Next Saturday. Their original opener dropped out, it was last-minute.”
“Oh. I’ll see you when you get back, then.” You then paused, your mind suddenly changing directions and racing with other thoughts of why he might want to be telling you this. He was a drummer in a band going on their first tour, maybe he’d want the full rockstar experience. “Unless this was something else…”
His eyes widened as he shook his head fervently. “I’m not—I mean, I won’t ask you to wait for me if you want to get on with your life while I’m gone, but I would wait for you.”
“Why not?” You furrowed your brow thoughtfully.
“What?”
“Why wouldn’t you ask me to wait for you? You want me to ask you to wait, but you won’t ask me.”
“Because I’m about to ask you for something even bigger than to wait two months for me to come back.” He grabbed your hand, holding it tight.
“What…?”
“Come with me.”
“What?!” You blinked, for a moment unsure that you had even heard him right.
“On tour. Come with me,” he repeated, as sincere, eager, and genuine as he was in everything.
You immediately stammered out, “Sungchan, I’d have to quit my job—”
“And then when we get back, you can find one that you actually like.”
“If I can even get one.”
“This is exactly what you’ve been trying to do, Y/N. Something new every day.” He was sandwiching your hand between both of his now. “Please, just think about it?”
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“Alright, what are you moping about?” Renjun asked, pushing an already-opened beer into your hand as he walked by.
The five of you were over at Jeno and Jaemin’s place for a movie, pizza, and beer night, and the first movie hadn’t even been started yet. As usual, you were an open book to your friends.
“Sungchan’s band is going on tour. For two months,” you told them glumly before bringing the bottle to your lips. “They leave Saturday.”
“They have enough fans to do that?” Donghyuck snorted, picking up a slice of pizza.
“They’re opening for another band.”
“Aw, I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Y/N,” Jaemin went to comfort you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
You tapped a fingernail against the glass bottle in your hands. “He asked me to go with him.”
“Does he think you can just quit your job for two months and come back and your boss will rehire you?” Renjun retorted. “This guy lives another world, sounds like you dodged a bullet.”
“You’re considering it.” Donghyuck pointed at you knowingly. “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have brought up that he asked you until after he was long gone.”
You were quiet, looking down at your slice of pizza.
“Are you?” Jeno asked.
“I mean, I’ve been trying to do something different every day—”
“Woahwoahwoah! Seriously?!” Renjun cut you off, waving his hands wildly.
“I have enough in my savings to cover my rent and stuff while I’m gone, plus a few months after I get back while I look for a new job—”
“Holy shit you’re like, serious about this,” Jeno breathed out, blinking in surprise.
Jaemin took over, “When we joked about you having a quarter life crisis, we didn’t mean for you to actually do something like quit your job and go run off to join your punk boyfriend that you barely know on his dirtbag boyband’s tour for months.”
“We kind of figured you seeing this guy was already pushing your limits…” Renjun added.
“Gee, thanks.” You rolled your eyes. “You thought I was—What? Getting it out of my system? Then I’d settle down with a guy who’s as boring as I am?”
“When you phrase it like that—”
“You guys don’t even know Sungchan.” You cut Jaemin off, getting to your feet to face them all as your skin pricked with anger.
“Do you? You’ve been seeing him for like a month.” Jaemin gestured to you pointedly.
“Three. But thanks for proving my point so well,” you snapped. “You haven’t even tried to get to know him! You don’t like his music, fine, I wouldn’t expect you to go back to a show. But you haven’t invited him anywhere and you somehow always have an excuse when I invite you guys to something with him. None of you have even really met him. Not even Jeno from that one time, so don’t try to start that.”
They all seemed to be at a loss for words, looking at each other as if waiting for someone else to say the right thing.
“Y/N, come on…” Jaemin tried again, but trailed off at your furious glare.
“I’m going,” you declared, grabbing your phone from the coffee table. “Unless any of you plan on getting your heads out of your asses in the next five seconds.”
They were quiet again, and you took that as your answer, storming out of the apartment.
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“Oh hey.” Eunseok’s face held mild surprise when he opened the door for you. “Sungchan said you weren’t coming over today.”
“Is he here?” You were still agitated from what just happened with your friends.
“In his room.” The bassist stepped back to let you in.
You passed by Wonbin and Shotaro in the living room, a game paused on their TV. They gave you greetings as you walked by, and you tossed a hello back over your shoulder. Sungchan’s door opened before you even got to it, confusion on his features when he saw you there.
“Hey, I thought I heard your voice.” He watched you as you stomped past him into his room. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, baby, but I thought you were hanging out with your friends tonight. What are you doing here?”
“I’m pissed at them.”
“What happened?” He sat down on his bed as you paced angrily in front of him.
“I was trying to tell them about the tour.” You gestured between the two of you. “You know, bouncing ideas off them or whatever. My mind was pretty much made up, I just needed to talk it through. And they couldn’t even be happy for you, or actually listen to me! They just called you a dirtbag and patronized me like a dumb child. Apparently, they’ve just been waiting for me to dump you and settle down with some boring guy that’s better for someone boring like me! They’ve been refusing to meet you, I mean, I can’t believe they think they somehow know anything about if you’re good for me or not.”
Sungchan had been listening patiently while you ranted, and when it seemed like you had come to a stopping point, he asked, “They really said all that?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“Pretty much?” He repeated knowingly.
You put your hands on your hips. “They called you guys a dirtbag boyband. And said I was ‘pushing my limits’ by seeing you.”
“‘Dirtbag boyband,’” Sungchan repeated with a laugh. “Yeah, I like that.”
“Of course you think it’s funny.”
“That part? Yeah, I do,” he snickered, holding a hand out towards you. When you had reluctantly put yours in it, he pulled you closer, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “The part where they’re being super judgmental and treating you like you can’t make your own decisions? No, I don’t think that’s funny.”
You took a deep breath, already beginning to calm down a little as he continued working soothing circles into your skin.
“You said your mind was made up? Mostly?” Sungchan asked tentatively, eyes focused on your intertwined hands.
“I want to go with you,” you said, watching his head snap up to look at you, his face hopeful. “On the tour. I fucking hate my job and I love you.”
Sungchan’s eyes went wide as he gazed up at you. Then he was yanking you down into his arms, and you let out an embarrassing ‘eep!’ as you threw your arms around his shoulders, trying to find some stability in your sudden change in orientation. He held you tightly, burying his face in your neck. You could feel his smile against your skin.
“I love you too,” he murmured, pulling back to cup your cheek. He was grinning. “I love you.”
Your skin got warmer as you realized exactly what you’d said, but you couldn’t take it back now. You’d said it, you meant it, it was true, and you wanted to say it again.
“I love you.” You repeated, feeling a smile creep across your face.
Sungchan leaned up to kiss you, cradling the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours. You kissed him back, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pressed even closer to him.
Your phone started buzzing relentlessly in your back pocket then, and you let out an annoyed groan into Sungchan’s mouth. You broke apart just enough to pull out your phone and look at the screen, fully intending on declining the call. Then you saw the caller ID and paused.
“Who is it?” Sungchan asked, kissing along your jaw.
“Jeno.” You continued staring at the screen.
He drew back. “You should answer it.”
“Sungchan—”
“Just see what he wants. Might be important.”
You sighed, and hit the accept button. “What?”
“You picked up! Great!” Jeno sounded genuinely shocked. “Uhm, will you come back?”
“So you guys can continue belittling my life choices? Pass.”
“No, no, so we can all talk. Actually talk this time.”
You bit the inside of your cheek as you sized up your options: staying here with Sungchan, or going back to that unpleasant atmosphere. Seemed like a pretty obvious choice to you.
“Jaemin will apologize,” Jeno added. “He wants to apologize, uh, to you.”
“Why didn’t he call me then?” You asked dryly.
“He didn’t think you’d pick up if he called.”
“I wasn’t going to pick up your call either,” you informed him. “Sungchan said I should hear you out.”
“Oh. You’re with him right now.”
“I’ll come back,” you stated. “But I’m bringing Sungchan.”
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You would be feeling awkward right now if you weren’t so pissed off. As soon as Jaemin had opened the door and you saw his face, you just got pissed off all over again. The only thing keeping you here and mostly civil was Sungchan.
“This is Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck, and Jaemin,” you blandly pointed out all your friends for Sungchan’s sake.
“Hi, Sungchan, dirtbag boyfriend,” Sungchan introduced himself with a broad smile, making the first move to shake all their hands.
Jaemin looked at you incredulously. “Y/N, you told him—”
“They’re your words, Jaemin. Now eat. them.” You said through gritted teeth, arms crossed over your chest firmly.
“I didn’t call you a dirtbag,” Jaemin tried to explain himself to Sungchan.
“Just his band,” Renjun pointed out helpfully.
“I thought it was funny,” Sungchan told him with a chuckle, stepping back to wrap an arm around your shoulders. “Y/N, not so much.”
“Well, she has no sense of humor, as I’m sure you know,” Donghyuck teased.
You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t introduce you guys for you to all pick on me.”
“I think you’ve got a great sense of humor, baby,” your boyfriend reassured you, squeezing your arm.
“So do you have like, a tour bus or something?” Jaemin asked.
“We’ve got a van,” Sungchan told them proudly. “We won’t be sleeping in it or anything, we’ll get hotels.”
“How many tattoos do you have?” Donghyuck flopped back into his armchair.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Jaemin rounded on him.
He shrugged. “Nothing. Just curious.”
“I’ve lost count,” Sungchan answered candidly.
“Cool.”
“Y/N mentioned you worked at a bookstore and a tea shop as well,” Jeno said. “Are they cool with you uh, going so suddenly?”
“I’m a part-timer. My bosses at both places knew what I actually wanted to do when I started,” he explained. “If they still have a spot for me when we get back, that’d be nice, but I don’t expect it.”
“So, are you going to be quitting tomorrow, Y/N?” Renjun’s voice held no judgment, just curiosity.
You nodded. “Yeah. I fucking hate that place.”
“Good. I could tell.”
“When do you guys leave? This week?” Jeno asked.
“Saturday,” Sungchan confirmed. “We’ll be popping back over here in a few weeks for a show at Venue:Hell, though.”
“Are there tickets… left?” Jaemin rubbed the back of his neck. “To the show in town?”
“You want to go?” You blurted out, a little dumbfounded.
“Totally, man.” Sungchan was absolutely beaming. “I’ll get you guys some.”
Donghyuck raised his beer to him before tipping it back. “Hell yeah.”
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Later that night, tucked under Sungchan’s covers and curled up in his arms, your fingertips traced the lines of his tattoos as you were slowly lulled closer and closer to sleep.
“Thank you, Sungchan,” you said aloud into the darkness.
“Mm? For what, baby?” He questioned sleepily, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.
“For not giving up on me. Even if you were just tagging along for the ride at the beginning, I would’ve just given up on my stupid little idea to cure my quarter life crisis if I didn’t have someone else doing it with me,” you admitted.
“Thank you for not telling me to fuck off when you had every right to,” he chuckled, tangling his legs with yours. “I love you, baby.”
You turned your head to kiss his hair. “I love you too, Sungchan.”
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⤷ masterlist
202 notes · View notes
lololololchips · 2 days
Text
Kim Mingyu || in which love lingers…
synopsis: in which love lingers even after their relationship reaches its end. Mingyu discover that his enduring love and care for his ex will always remain, even if she has now found happiness in a new relationship…
genre: one shot smau, fake texts, fluff, angst, non!idol, lovers to strangers (?)
warnings: fem reader, cursing, mention of alcohol/being intoxicated
a/n: hiiiii i am very happy and excited to announce that this is my first collab!!! soooo allow me to introduce the amazing, talented, and great person that completed this smau @spamgyu !!!!! ces completely ruined me with her opinion on ex!mingyu to the point that it made me want to do an smau on the topic so here it is:)) the amazing writing portion that she did is towards the end so make sure not to skip over it and read it!!! also go show her support on all her great work, she’s gonna make u suffer and cry BUT HEY THATS OKAY🙈🙈 once again i’m truly so happy to have worked with ces so ENJOY WHAT WE PUT TOGETHER HEHE<333
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Taking the final bite of his shave ice, Mingyu couldn't help but let out a pitiful chuckle as the cold treat made contact with his tongue - he had gone mad.
He had always wanted to visit the tropical island, looking forward to crossing off all the sights he had on his four year old list in his notes app.
Only difference was, it wasn't meant to just be him completing this list.
You were supposed to be there.
You were the one that had come up and done research for all the places he had paid a visit to.
From the small surf town up north to the local eateries, Mingyu couldn't quite find himself to enjoy the experience fully - knowing that there was something missing.
You.
It had been three years since the two of you had separated, both coming to terms with the end and moving on with your lives. It had been months since he had even thought of you - as a romantic partner, at least.
What was meant to be a birthday trip had turned to somewhat of a trip to tie up all the loose ends he never did seem to get to - nor was he aware had been undone.
This place was supposed to be for you two.
Mingyu knew it was stupid; relating every activity he had been doing back to you instead of fully enjoying the trip.
He was supposed to have moved on; and he has!
But why did his stomach feel like it was constantly sinking? Why did his heart feel as empty as it did the first day he had experienced a life without you?
With each picture he snapped, he found himself mumbling how much you would have loved the place.
It was everything you two had dreamed of, maybe even more.
You always did like the ocean - remembering the first time the two of you had spent at the beach together.
He could remember the smile on your face that day, almost as if it was just a week ago.
He could remember the sweet smell of coconut shampoo that lingered in your hair, wafting into his nose as the wind blew.
He could remember the sunkissed glow on your cheeks as the sun beat down on the two of you.
Would it have been the same if you had made it to the Hawaii trip with him?
Would you still have been using the same shampoo?
Would you still allow him to playfully drag you into the water - pretending as if you didn't want to wet your hair in the cold ocean water?
Probably not.
Time has passed, there was no way you were the same person - just as he wasn't that same foolish boy that he was when he was wrapped around your fingers.
You were most likely using a different shampoo now.
And you probably would have jumped into the ocean first.
He wanted to text you; send you all the images he took, update you that Matsumoto Shave Ice was as delicious as you imagined it be, tell you all about what he had been up to.
You probably wouldn't even care - at least, not like you did before.
You would simply reply casually, just like your other mutual friends.
Letting out a sigh, Mingyu tossed out the now empty cup - shaking his head to try and shake away the thoughts of you.
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"I'm a fucking idiot." He scoffed, rereading the word vomit that he had spilled to you just a few minutes ago over text.
You two had been cordial, friends even - and now, that could possibly go down the drain.
All because of this stupid thing called nostalgia.
He had allowed for the emotional tie that the island had to overpower his coherent thoughts - typing all that he had felt the duration of his trip into the messaging app.
Mingyu knew he had to get it out, he had to let you know - he felt as though his chest would burst if he didn't. He had done so well holding back for the past few days, simply talking to you in his head.
But he heard it, someone had played the song the two of you had jokingly dedicated to each other after the break-up - and almost as if his younger self had possessed his body, he opened the messaging app and went on to spill all that his brain had been bothering him with.
His younger self missed you; gravely.
But not the you that was now, no - he didn't know who she is.
She is a stranger.
She may look familiar, having the same features that had once had him so weak in the knees - but she no longer felt like the home he once resided in.
He no longer knew the address to this home, nor does he think it has it's light on for him anymore.
Even if his kept the porch light on; just in case you needed to seek shelter in the darkest of nights.
It will always be on.
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191 notes · View notes
sgiandubh · 2 days
Text
She saw, she was first, she scored, homerun
Heh. But Marple only tells you what is convenient for her, right?
This time, I do not have the clip, like she does, simply because as I said, I could not be arsed to watch it. But a trusted friend did, all five hours of it (thank you, dear 😘😘😘😘) and sent me very decent screencaps of S + June Brunette at that tennis event. She sent them a couple of hours ago, while I was busy having a life and lunch, you know (I can prove it anytime, but will always protect my Circle of Trust). Sorry for the delay.
As you know, this blog does not believe that hiding information is the best thing to do. I never did.
Following are the screencaps I have received, in order, and with very precise comments. If anything is wrong, let it be my and her sin. But it is not and you will immediately see why.
Context: S and June Brunette's juiciest appearance in that very exposed spot of the VIP area coincided with Mansour Bahrami's match. S came first, at around 03: 04:49.
Two other people who were seated on those seats before his arrival get up and leave (perhaps prompted? perhaps uninterested in Bahrami? we can only speculate) - all this perhaps about 20 to 30 seconds before S arrives, alone:
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He takes a seat and quickly arranges his jacket on his knees, perhaps sends an SMS (I am not Mrs. Graham and, unlike many other people across the street, never pretended to have infrared surveillance material):
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Meanwhile, she pops in, at around 03:05:10. Unmistakably Panikian - the yellow outfit was a dead giveaway and he practically pointed when, where and for what to look, in his post: 'and of course, the legend, @mansourbahramiofficial'.
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Heh: he was far from surprised and she did not chitchat at all ('is this seat taken?' etc). She just sat down: it was a very natural thing to do:
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Then, he takes her in a bear hug. Kinda, sorta. Making sure they are well exposed, unlike you know, that other time:
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I am told it was a matter of seconds before he wrapped his arm around her neck. Well, that is the rebuke I have been waiting for about three weeks, right?
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At about 04:03:41 and until 04:10:03, she goes out, for some reason (🚹? 💄? 📳? your guess is as good as mine):
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My candid question is.. who is Light Green Arrow Woman? This is the first time I see her clearly in those screenshots I (one more time, for the people in the back) have been sent by a trusted friend. Could she be a chaperone of sorts? I am told that on the video edit Marple made a modo suo, she seems to be interacting with Mrs. Panikian, but I would have to see that:
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A selfie is taken, to properly document the bullshit (after she helped herself with some more champagne):
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Whatever Marple calls 'quite the hug' is a kiss on the cheek, and you can see it quite clearly on her edit, if you really are freaked out by this cheap arrangement:
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Prompted by the impromptu (heh) 🔦 + 🍾cocktail, she took it very seriously. A pity she did, without having the slightest idea of the strange place she landed in.
That would be it, to be honest. The pics and stills of these two individuals where he does wear a jacket, that our side published first yesterday are from the first part of the program. I do have a couple of more stills from then, but you have it all on that edit. There is no need to add more pics to it, doesn't bring anything new to the table.
And now, onwards for some more context.
Such as this post on June 13, 2024:
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With this very peculiar hidden comment:
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From a very peculiar sock account:
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Mmmhm. Joined in June 2024, follows nobody and is followed by nobody, and yet felt the need to change the username already once? I mean, what the fuck is this cheap game, right here?
So, for those of you naive (I am elegant) enough to think this Brief Encounter was organic, think twice. Somebody followed whatever the scheming was and that somebody tried to warn the woman. Whether about the Inglorious Pap Walk or about Kissgate (the message was posted around June 15th), is to be debated. But still...
And there is some more, of course : I may not be willing to fuck my (already complicated) eyesight with edits and frames and screenshots, but I am not yet dead and I still have all my brain faculties.
Around the same time Mrs. Panikian began to be followed by S on IG, she also began to be followed by a very decent (give or take a couple of details) physical alternative to My Personal Someone. Who would kill me if he could read this post, btw. That is, if you could kill someone with cold shoulder treatment and an icy gaze (Spanish style all the way):
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Quick, let's see what his Personal Life insert tells us:
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I mean, D'OH: in case you wondered who the fuck that warning sock account was. NEED I DRAW IT?
Nah, can't be Margot, what were we thinking?
🙄🙄🙄
He followed her not so long ago, but well, he wasn't active since March, LOL:
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And look how cute, they are fresh (?) mutuals, as of very recently/now - I might be wrong, but I don't think I am:
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Tattoos, fitness venues, filthy porn bots in his 'Tagged' section, rumored to be single since at least last year. Rings a bell? Oh, surely not. Especially when you find out that this guy is also a mildly hot topic on Data Lounge (hope dies last):
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Similar profiles (but Eggold is apparently a staunch Catholic - the gay conspirators grin with glee), similar PR problems. Alice to the rescue?
At any rate, she is up for grabs, people: 'looking for a man with a decent sense of humor who doesn't troll women's IG pages' - LOOOOOL. Meet the bloody OL fandom, doll - how's that for trolling? Betcha didn't see what real trolling is, yet.
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On a sidenote, in an effort to leave no stones unturned, I have even looked for the edits on her Wikipedia page, until I realized they were unsubstantial and made by a clearly obsessed fan of Miss Universe contests (yeah, such people exist):
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Surely enough, that user was blocked for sockpuppetry, which means 'abusing multiple accounts'. But Panikian was not her main obsession and for once, this has nothing to do with the current cheapo story that they try to peddle us. Whoever 'they' are.
That's all for now, ladies. Thanks to all three of you who sent tips and raw info for me to connect. You are wonderful!
It's going to be an interesting summer, for sure.
Ship on, ladies, still the same old, tired, boring BS. But also an interestingly symmetrical rebuke to TS Kissgate - if only...
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One of the most heartbreaking scenes in The Dark Era is seeing Dazai trying so desperately to convince Oda to live. Seeing Dazai clutching at straws, repeating back the advice he must have heard a thousand times at him, just to try and get through to Oda even though he knows already that it would never work.
And the worst part is, how through this whole scene Oda is acting just like Dazai, he has the same emptiness that Dazai normally only sees in himself. So now Dazai has to go through the impossible task of convincing HIMSELF to live, something he has been unable to do all these years.
I looked at Dazai. “There isn’t anything, Dazai. It’s all over. Everything. Whatever else happens now is meaningless—just like what I’m about to do. Am I wrong?” “Odasaku…,” Dazai said softly. “Forgive me for the absurd wording, but—don’t go. Find something to rely on. Expect good things to happen from here on out. There’s gotta be something…
And then him telling Oda why he joined the mafia, even though it was clearly something he never wanted to tell anyone, in the vague hope that it just might convince Oda to stop.
Hey, Odasaku, do you know why I joined the Mafia?” I stared at him. We had known each other for a long time, but he’d never even attempted to talk about that. “I joined the Mafia because of an expectation I had. I thought if I was close to death and violence—close to people giving in to their urges and desires, then I would be able to see the inner nature of humankind up close. I thought if I did that…” Dazai paused before continuing, “…I would be able to find something—a reason to live.”
But he can't do it, Oda is too far gone at this point, he lost not only the children, but his dream. He was in unimaginable grief and suffering and just wanted things to end.
I looked at him; he looked back at me. “I wanted to be a novelist,” I said. “I thought I wouldn’t deserve such a life if I killed someone during a mission. That’s why I never killed anyone. But that’s all in the past. There’s only one thing I want now.” “Odasaku!” I began to walk away. Dazai yelled out, but I didn’t turn around. Heading west, I started my journey.
Oda's listlessness is almost a perfect mirror of Dazai in the bar after Ango has betrayed them.
“I’m not sad. I knew from the very beginning,” Dazai said. His face was a blank mask now. “It didn’t matter whether you were with the Special Division for Unusual Powers. I always lose the things I don’t want to lose the most. That’s why I don’t feel anything anymore. The moment you get your hands on something worth going after, you lose it. That’s just how things are. There is nothing worth pursuing at the cost of prolonging a life of suffering.” I stared at Dazai. We had known each other for a while, but this was the first time he’d ever opened up about himself. I could see a thorn the size of a harpoon wedged deeply into his life.
This is why I say Oda is the only character to ever truly understand Dazai, because he saw the part of Dazai that he kept most hidden from the world, he knew Dazai's unending loneliness and emptiness. And in the end, he was consumed by the very same thing. But before he died, he did what only he could do, and gave Dazai a way to escape that emptiness.
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babyangelsky · 1 day
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There may be something happening with the Colors™ in Love Sea but it's not just that...
This post began life as me wanting to talk about how amazing Peat's styling and wardrobe are and how much sense they make for his character, but as I was watching this week's episode, I noticed something that made me want to switch gears.
Then I went back and watched the preview and the clown in me stirred from its slumber.
But I do also wanna talk about Peat's styling. In episode 1 he arrived on the island looking like this:
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He's dressed all in black, he's wearing slacks, dress shoes, and a long-sleeved shirt. In other words, he does not look remotely like someone who knew they were going to a tropical island. The only thing that has any business being on his body are his sunglasses.
But he doesn't stay like that! A few hours later, he arrives at the beach bar looking like this:
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He's in sandals, the pants he's wearing look like they're made out of a lightweight fabric, and his top is loose has an open weave.
And this time, he does stay like that. For as long as he's on the island, he's in sandals and either shorts or lightweight pants and his tops are all either very loose and breezy or made from a woven fabric.
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He does still wear dark colors but the basic components of his outfits are the same. Why am I harping on this? Because that's the point.
His outfits make sense!
He's on an island! It's hot, he's spending time at the beach and getting sand everywhere and he's DRESSING LIKE IT! He arrived looking he wasn't coming to an island but he packed for an island! He chose clothes that suited his style and that made sense for the environment. He looks expensive and beautiful and COMFORTABLE!
And in a world where we constantly see these poor BL actors sweating out every ounce of fluid in their body because they've been dressed like it's not hotter than the hinges of hell in Thailand, having a character dress like he knows where he is feels like a GIFT. This production is truly making fantastic choices.
Having said all that...
In noticing Tongrak's wardrobe, I noticed something else.
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Woven fabric has texture to it and because so many of the tops we've seen Tongrak in are woven, he's always wearing something that's either textured or looks like it has texture. And Mahasamut?
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He is always dressed in bright colorful patterns.
Do you see where I'm going with this?
They aren't color coded in the way we've come to know, they're primarily what I'm gonna call fabric coded: textures are Rak's, patterns are Mut's. But they are also color coded in the sense that Rak's textured tops are always a solid color and Mut's tops are always multicolored.
I may very well be wrong, I may very well be proving why I live at the circus but there was a moment in episode 4 that told me that I was on the right track.
Look what Mook chooses when she goes shopping with Vivi.
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A WOVEN TOP IN A SOLID COLOR. She picks it because that's what she usually buys for Rak! Because that's the style that he likes!
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But then the show went and teased me because we don't actually see what Vivi picked for Mut, the person they were actually shopping for.
THEN THE PREVIEW CAME IN CLUTCH AND GAVE ME THIS
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VIVI BOUGHT MUT PATTERNED CLOTHING! The patterns aren't multicolored because he wasn't the one choosing them himself but they're still patterns! We can even go one step further and say that the patterns are in his brand new sugar daddy's colors.
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AND WE WILL BECAUSE LOOK AT THIS! LOOK AT THE BALANCE!
I don't give one singular fuck if Tongrak can admit he's in love or not, THE COLORS AND PATTERNS DON'T LIE AND THIS IS A COLOR AND PATTERN EXCHANGE!
If at any point in this show there is a colorful pattern on Tongrak's body, I am going to lose my mind.
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furiousgoldfish · 11 hours
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To all of you who are feeling behind on survival skills, worried you won't be able to succeed in life because you're not allowed to learn/not able to learn, I want you to know that some basics are extremely easy to get once you're able to try it on your own, or even just have one person explain it to you.
When I ran away from home, I didn't know how to cook, I wasn't allowed to learn, and first month or so, I was preoccupied with just learning how to cook. What I learned was that it was far more easy than my parents ever made it seem. If you're trying to cook just for proper nutrition and not make some fancy meals, most of what you have to do is heat the groceries, and salt them. If you cut up some vegetables and put them in water an add salt, you will have a soup. If you lay them on a tray and put them in the oven, you've made food. You can put stuff in a pan with some oil and stir it on heat and you have a meal. For basic eating, it can be really that simple. I also was able to pick stuff up just from my roommates, who would happily answer my questions, and a lot of people out there will happily explain to you how they make a certain food, and of course, there's video tutorials for specific meals, if you want to make something more complex. Once you have absolute freedom in the kitchen, you will pick this up rapidly.
I have never used a washing machine prior to running away, and then one person showed me once how to use one, and that was that. I was washing-machine certified after that. I gained extra knowledge about cleaning it on the internet, and some people randomly had tips for me about it. I learned to handwash later as well, and that works good too.
I've struggled at the beginning, to find easy and cheap ways to get stuff; the most common way to get things is to go to the store, but I didn't have a lot of money, and buying things was too expensive for me. I've since discovered just where to find the second-hand markets, how to get people to give me their old clothing so I never have to buy any, how to temper with stuff I have so I wouldn't have to buy anything, at this point I even know how to fix shoes and sew my own stuff. I've fixed blinds on almost every window in here, without even knowing how, I just dismantled everything and figured it out. I've put together closets and lamps. I've learned to open up my own laptop and change the parts inside, I've even changed the screen on my own, by watching a video on how it's done. I've learned how to repaint walls, how to tend to plants, how to maintain a living space. Often I'd see someone else who is able to do these things, and just ask. People who are not parents have no reason to gatekeep this information, and they proudly told me how they do it.
I've learned to organize my stuff to the point where I'm able to easily clean a big mess, and I don't get overwhelmed with things anymore. I've had to do some reading on the internet to figure out the situation with finances and economy, and I also asked some people, got wildly different answers from every person. When I have the opportunity to chat with someone who has a specific job, I ask them about what they do, and have them describe to me how that field of work functions. It gave me insight into a lot of inner workings of society that were previously a mystery to me.
I was able to figure this all out while having zero faith in myself; I believed I was stupid, incapable of survival, honestly thought I would be dead within few months. I was reading army survival guides so I could survive in the wild if I ever got homeless. I was learning even without believing that all of this would help me, it's only now looking back at everything that I understand how much knowledge I gained just from trying it and doing it in every possible way until it clicked.
The most complex for me, were the social skills, since I'm still easily scared of people. But I am slowly making progress on that and finding better ways to deal with people's behaviours. Being curious works well because people love when someone is curious about them and shows interest in what they do. It's been a revelation that outside of my home, I really can just ask any question I am interested about, and will usually get some kind of an answer, and not 'how do you not know this already'. Outside of abusive homes, you're not expected to know everything, without ever being told.
While survival skills and independence are deeply forbidden in an abusive situation, being out of one will practically guarantee you that you'll get them. Sometimes you'll be forced to learn some stuff like cleaning and cooking and you'll have no choice but to learn, and it will become easier the more you do it. But nobody will make you feel bad for not doing it right the first time, there will be no punishment, no berating, you're free mess it up any amount of times, without any consequences. I would say that maybe you wasted some time and effort, but no time or effort is truly wasted when you're learning something; rather it takes that time and effort to learn. But it's not painful, it's not shameful, it's not forbidden anymore. You can learn a lot of things at your own ease and convenience, without worrying about someone's opinion on what you're doing. You can also learn dumb things and never be criticized or called out on it, you can do absolutely ridiculous stuff that brings you joy and no harm is done.
I know feeling behind sucks, and it feels shameful and horrible, but the good news is that you can catch up very quickly, and not only that. If you really want to have a lot of survival skills under your belt, and you keep learning, you will soon know more than most people do. You can out-do any person out there if you have a passion for it. I had people who were telling me how to do basic stuff, surprised at me knowing more than they knew, just months later. It's a great feeling!
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femmequixotic · 3 days
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Hello #Femmequixotic, I am a huge fan of your fics, and I've recently finished the 4th part of your Tales from the Special Branch.
Firstly, I'd like to express my admiration and love for your writing and creativity, and after reading your last post here, I hope you currently find yourself in a better place.
Now, I confess that I came here to see when you had last spoken about your work, and was incredibly excited to see that you were working on it, only to see that it has been over a year since.
I understand how life can be unpredictable, and no-one will be upset (although certainly sad) about you abandoning the series, but I came here to simply thank you for your work, and ask if there is any chance of an update (that being new chapters or the definite end to the series).
Regards,
V.
Hi, friend,
I just logged in after a significant amount of time away and saw this and some other lovely messages of support for me from various people. Thank you all so much for your kind words.
To provide an update on why I once again disappeared....well. Life is curiously, frustratingly exasperating sometimes. Just as I got back into writing last year, I started to have some health difficulties that I had to deal with. Long story short, I was rediagnosed with cancer in the spring of 2023. This recent tumor wasn't operable due to its placement, and technically was considered metastatic, so over the past year, I have been going through a very long process of two different types of radiation treatment plus five months of chemotherapy. I still have a very long stretch of immunotherapy ahead of me, and while the tumor seems to have melted away, we're not entirely certain the cancer is gone based on some symptoms I continue to have. My oncology team is awesome, though, and they're doing everything they can to help me.
I'm better than I was a year ago--or even six months ago--so that's positive, and my brain is finally starting to return back to normal from some of the fatigue and fog from treatment and from being ill. I'd like to go back to writing, and I'm feeling more creative as my strength builds back up. I don't want to promise anything, since the last time I did, life decided to immediately throw me a curveball, and to be honest, I'm still wicked tired on my good days, but I hope to complete the story within the next year. That's my plan, at least, so fingers crossed? I've always said I didn't want to abandon it at any point, and I'm determined to keep that promise to you all--and to myself.
So, yeah. That's what's been happening. I'm still here, I'm still fighting, and I'm still writing. Just super slowly, lol.
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Do you have any advice for writing with adhd? I can craft these elaborate storyline in my head, but the minute I try to write any of them down I get bored. (Or is that just regular writer block?) It's really discouraging, because I feel like my mind is moving faster then my head, and any time I try to bring any of my ideas to life it just disipates.
Writing with ADHD: 5 Game Changers for Me
Here are some things that have been game changers for me as a writer with ADHD:
Planning: It's different for everyone with ADHD, but for me it's essential to spend time planning my story before I start writing. I like to flesh out as much as possible concerning plot, timeline, setting, world, characters and arcs, subplots, and themes.
Summary, Outline, and Scene List: Three items that are critical for me to have in hand before I sit down to write are a beginning to end summary of the story detailing all plot events as far as I know, an outline loosely based on the story structure template/s that feel right for the story (for example, I may use elements of Save the Cat! and some elements of of the Six-Stage Plot Structure), which helps me navigate my plot and hit the relevant plot points. And finally, I need a detailed scene list/timeline combo which lists chapter, scene, date/time, POV character, location, and a one to two sentence summary of what happens in the scene, including the character's goal in the scene, the scene's conflict, and the scene's resolution or how it carries into a later scene.
Gamifying: When I'm struggling with a particular time period or project, it can help me to gamify things. You can do this using a game board strategy, the Yahtzee Method, making a list of bench marks that serve as "levels," race against yourself by trying to bet the previous day's goal, etc. The key to gamifying is to set reasonable benchmarks and give yourself periodic rewards. Rewards can be anything from buying yourself a boba, watching a favorite TV show episode, an hour of playing your favorite game, or going to a movie. Some people like to go to the dollar store and buy a lot of small fun things and use those as rewards. Whatever works for you! Sometimes, turning it into a game with tangible progress and rewards can keep you motivated.
Setting Up a Routine: Although I have my general daily routine, I am without a doubt more productive when I can stick to a more specific routine that includes writing time. For me that works out to writing early in the day before other distractions start ramping up. When I put on my music, sit down with some coffee and a snack, and pull up my manuscript, my brain knows it's time to get to work. That doesn't always mean the work happens, but it's much more likely I'll get something done.
Minimizing Distractions: Anything that can be a distraction when I write is problematic. For that reason, I only listen to music without words and advertising. I turn off my phone or leave it in the other room. If possible, I try to use placeholders for things I need to look up. If I absolutely have to look something up and I get distracted by headlines, interesting articles or videos, or other things, I bookmark them in a special folder and immediately close the window. That way, I know I can go back to them later (I almost never do...) And, for me, as much as I love Scrivener and the ability to organize by chapter, have quick access to character profiles and photos, toggle between scene cards and my story... it's just too distracting for me. I'll sit down to write a chapter, then decide I need to re-do my scene cards, or cast characters, or do mood boards for every location in my story.
For that reason, writing in Word works best. It's simple and there's nothing to distract me. Any story references I might need while writing, such as character profiles and photos, mood boards and aesthetics, setting inspiration photos, etc. are all organized in a special folder, categorized into sub-folders, so I can go straight to the required reference.
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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!
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