i could never say, "this feels right." we're talkin' in circles all night. how can we see the light if we're both blinded? you want my love; there's only love for you. and you're not all wrong—you're all i see when the lights go down. the world is burning; just come home.
mud-splattered robes drag behind him as taesung leaves the pitch exhausted, hungry and, perhaps most distressingly, looking like he lost a wrestling match with a feral niffler. his broom functions as part-walking stick during his trudge to the dorms, eager to wash the sweat and filth off his body. laundry is a different story; he’ll let one of his roommates handle that problem later. domestic work is not taesung’s forte. the last time he attempted to be helpful by washing everyone’s clothes, he flooded their room and then some. expecting him to do anything beyond quidditch and pass his classes is cruelty, regardless.
barely a few weeks into the semester and varsity practices already have him by the balls, leaving him no room for anything else. not that taesung minds. the familiar ache settling into his muscles is a good one. he welcomes the bruises, the sore limbs, the sweat-plastered hair and the grass stains dominating his clothes. if he’s not miserable and more than a little dinged up, he’s not working hard enough. and if he’s not working hard enough, the chollimas won’t win. and if the chollimas don’t win… taesung refuses to entertain the thought. he’s aiming for no losses this year. with a team as good as theirs, why settle for less?
but—he’s only human, not even half as indestructible as he pretends to be. as satisfied taesung is with practice, he’s also dreaming of climbing into the shower and letting the scalding water wash the fatigue from his body. after that—who knows? studying isn’t on taesung’s agenda and he’s flown enough today, so all signs point to sleep. if he were smarter and less proud, he’d head to the medical ward to get his ankle looked at from when he landed hard earlier, but he doesn’t have the energy to force his stiff body to listen.
taesung stomps into his room, the door carelessly thrown open behind him, and puts his broom away before peeling his dirty practice clothes off. the pile grows with every minute: gloves, greaves, robes—his fingers fumble with the clasps, clumsy and heavy with exhaustion, but he barely pauses until he’s stripped to the waist and about to go further when he hears it. crunching. crunching of chips, finally alerting him to the other presence in the room. “enjoying the free show?” he asks wryly, certain of who it is without even stealing a glance. “qin, you could’ve said hi.”
when he turns, it’s with a shrug. weiqin’s seen worse. or more, to be precise. he’s never been shy around him. never had any reason to, when weiqin is his best friend and probably forty percent of his heart. taesung is not surprised to find him lounging in his bed, the neatly made surface now a mess. although he doesn’t live here, with how much time weiqin spends in their dorm he might as well. perhaps taesung takes it for granted that weiqin will end up here eventually, like a wayward cat who always comes home at the end of the night. perhaps he takes weiqin for granted, period. either way, his first reaction is a steady, solid sort of warmth blossoming in his chest despite his tiredness.
the second is horror.
“are you eating doritos in my bed?” those are doritos. in his bed. “what the fuck, bro?”
jinhyuk moves back at the thought, just enough to engage some distance, and lets a safe smile grow instead. everything is okay, jinhyuk loves his friends, everything is swell, emphasis on his friends. his gaze stays fixated on taesung as he thinks, and he clenches his fists, letting his nails claw into his skin as he waits.
@mmtaesung
in his dreams, taesung is weightless, suspended in mid-air, his heart still and mind at peace. drifting, drifting among the clouds, a hand curls towards him and he turns his head, thinking, if i take it, i’ll—
being jolted out of his sleep is always akin to crash-landing on the ground, the impact jarring him awake. alertness doesn’t seep in slowly so much as punches him in the stomach, but he keeps his eyes shut and feigns sleep. it is entirely out of character for him to linger in the moment, for him to bask in the morning glow like a cat asleep in the sun, but taesung recognizes the sensation of these—these—particular sheets against his skin, knows instinctively who the ghost of a kiss drifting over his ear belongs to. he’d shiver, maybe, but that would make it obvious he isn’t actually asleep—and to do so would invite questions taesung can’t answer.
jinhyuk’s fingers entwined in his hair lull him into a lazy sort of complacency, taesung’s lips parting slightly as he contemplates letting sleep overtaking him once more. the deft movements nearly convince him to let go, if only for a heartbeat (as dangerous as it is). jinhyuk nearly convinces him to let go in general, but taesung refuses, holding onto the ledge with white-knuckled hands. lines drawn between them—once so clear—become increasingly blurry as the weeks pass, as they fall together time and time again, and taesung thinks of how easily this could mean something if he lets it.
(he refuses to).
he can’t keep the charade for much longer. if his irregular breathing won’t give him away, the smile curling at the corners of his lips definitely will. humming under his breath, taesung opens his eyes and blinks as if he’s just coming out of a deep sleep. “morning, sunshine,” he says, leaning into jinhyuk’s fingers, his voice hoarse. “no wake up kiss? even sleeping beauty got that much, and i’m much prettier.” only half a joke, in spite of the teasing lilt to his words. his own desires are uncertain; jinhyuk reminds him of flying, of being suspended in mid-air, the slightest move liable to send him plummeting to the ground if he gives voice to what he wants. and what he wants is—
taesung doesn’t know.
what he does know is this: his hands are splayed over jinhyuk’s stomach of their own accord, familiar muscles mapped under his palms. his eyes glint mischievously as they work their way down, hooking onto the waistband of jinhyuk’s boxers, not quite tugging on them but almost, on a knife’s edge. “hungry? for what?” taesung lets the question sit between them for a second, his eyes dropping to jinhyuk’s mouth (pouty, is he?) before flicking back up to meet his gaze. “i’m feeling like western—pancakes?”
it feels like a game of chicken, with taesung perpetually waiting for jinhyuk to move away, or for himself to back down first, to reassert the distance between them, the friendship, and he wonders why he feels like he’s lost something every time it happens. taesung shouldn’t; they’re just friends. it’s all they ever will be. no point in becoming greedy and asking for more. he’s not even sure he wants more.
taesung swallows the sudden lump in his throat, the bout of possessiveness threatening to choke. why are you talking about others when i’m right here? “yeah, fine,” he says, blinking hard but making no move to get up. “in five minutes?”
send ✆ for a morning text
send ♔ for an angry text
send ♠ for a drunk text
send ☏ for a vague text
send ⁇ for a worried text
send ♣ for a text not meant for you
send ✺for a sassy text
send √ for a long-winded confession text
send ☠ for a misguided advice text
send ☢ for a desperate text
send ☼ for a congratulatory text
send ✘ for a text that should never have been sent
hello everyone! i’m super excited to be here, as you’ll be able to tell by my overuse of exclamation points throughout this post!! you can call me lena (she/her pronouns) and i operate out of the mdt / gmt -6 timezone. this is my trash son, bang taesung, twenty two years old and a sixth year in baek ho. i have his profile and background pages up already, along with a quick plots page that needs more work but is all i can manage for now, lmao. i’ll drop some more info on him under the cut, along with some general connections under the cut! please hit the like button if you’d like to plot and i will hop into your ims! or feel free to hmu on im or via discord ( just ask! ). can’t wait to start writing with you all ♥
bang taesung, most friends call him tae. the bang 1 canon, for reference!
turned twenty two this year, in his sixth year, was sorted into baek ho almost instantly and has a hell of a lot of house pride as a result
models for the song fashion house--which is incidentally owned + run by his parents, so feel free to cry nepotism! has been the face of quite a few apparel lines and appeared in a few magazines so his face might be recognizable if you pay attention to that sort of thing
a chaser for the varsity quidditch team (go chollimas, go!) and pretty damn proud of it. a bit of a showboat, but he thinks his attitude is deserved because he’s good :’D has some aspirations to go pro but isn’t sure if he wants to lock himself down in one future career yet
majoring in transfiguration. not at the top of his classes or anything, but he generally does well enough. he’s smart yet hates to study, so his grades are entirely a result of whatever he absorbs during class and last minute cramming before exams. his friends help too
born and brought up in seoul; attended yosul middle school prior to enrolling in the yosul school for witches and wizards. lives on campus in a dorm for the campus lifestyle but visits home often (since his parents live in the city as well)
a pureblood, but lacking the prejudices that come with the status. he doesn’t care much about blood purity at all and won’t really stand for the bullshit some people spout about it at all. has been known to hex people over their trash opinions!
a really charming + easygoing guy for the most part, basks in attention, likes it when people fawn over him because he’s a hoe like that! but also sort of rigidly moralistic and a prick who never takes things seriously, can be casually and unthinkingly cruel. has a heart of gold and insanely loyal to his friends at the end of the day, though!!
he’s a good boy, most of the time
GENERAL CONNECTIONS:
some friends!! especially close in age or in the same year (same major, even). taesung is really easy to get to know + befriend and it doesn’t take much for him to get attached to people
quidditch related plots! whether fellow team members, fans, or antis--quiddtich is a huge part of his life (some might call him a well-meaning jock) and he feels strongly about it, so anything related is guaranteed to get a reaction out of him
exes? he dates around a lot--craves love and affection and attention but isn’t necessarily the best at returning it in a meaningful way, so most of his relationships are short or end badly, but it’s fun in the meantime?
also flirty relationships, one-sided or not, never going to amount to much in taesung’s mind because it’s his natural setting, but it would be fun to play around with the idea that the other party reads too much into it!
fellow house-mates, baek ho buddies--someone to enable his bad ideas or rep house pride alongside taesung. he’s close to the majority of them, i’d imagine, unless they really exist outside the norm for their house
purebloods who know each other due to family connections but don’t necessarily have the best relationship with taesung? he’s polite on the surface for the most part, but can also be a dick
girlfriends/boyfriends.... again, dates around a lot so would love to have some current relationships for him to cycle through (and deal with the fallout of)
enemies/rivals/the bane of his existence. once again, he’s a dick often without knowing it, so i would love to have a few people hate his guts
give him (1) rival since childhood but with a simmering kind of tension there, always calls taesung a pretty boy and disparages all his accomplishments and taesung says goddamn right i’m a pretty boy but in actuality cannot stand him...
anything you can think of... i’m pretty open when it comes to plots for taesung!!
turnnoffyourmind
areudirty
gracieabrams
pixelskylines
jimmyeatworldofficial
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