imagines

REQUESTS ARE: CLOSED

[sanshineaus]

hello! due to recent circumstances, i won’t be writing. i’m focusing on spreading activist messages on my main, and so there won’t be anything for a little while. please support blm and acab movements, as well as send a complaint to your congressman/woman about antifa being classified as a terrorist organization.

this is the blm official site with all petitions, donations, etc.

please try to pay bail money if you can.

hear and amplify black voices, do not talk over them. 

sorry for the scarceness of this post, i’m rushing to type. but please be safe and be careful, you’re all loved and understand that these protests are needed, and that black lives matter.

[sanshineaus]

OH MY GOD YOUR HOME HAS ME CRYING LIKE A BABY (i loved it and you did an amazing job)

REALLY 🥺 thank you so much sweetheart ):<3 

[sanshineaus]

your home

JUNG YOONOH / JAEHYUN X READER

warnings: there’s a verbal fight (kind of?) and an unclear mending of a relationship

type: drabble!

word count: 2996

a/n: thank you for your compliments love ):<3 but also sorry for this being so late, i’ve had a spell of watching the untamed/cql and i completely forgot to finish this

music recommendation: can you see my heart and wu ji even though neither fit lyrically, the melodies influenced me a lot

The light of your porch poorly illuminated the piece of paper in your hand, and you shivered despite the warmth of the evening.

It seems so trivial— a simple piece of paper. Simple, so simple that the black and white muddle together as you feel yourself tearing up. You still hold it far away from you, and your tears fall into your lap instead, but the blue lines of your signature at the bottom similarly blur in front of you until you can’t recognize that this is your handwriting.

Your company was incredibly generous after only five years of you working there. You did your best, of course, but you didn’t expect it to be paid back in the manner that it was; a raise that was the subsequence of a promotion. You were so excited to sign the contract and to finally get the coveted position, except you overlooked the fact that they now had the full right to change your station of work.

And that was exactly what they did.

Taking into account that you were young and skilled, and good at the language, your company offered a plane ticket and an address— as well as the option to pack within a week. ‘It’s a short time to bid farewell,’ they said, ‘but we expect it not to be too much of a problem.’

Business and family were not very good friends, you decided in that moment.

The drive back  to your home could very well be described as dangerous. You were a cautious driver, of course, though you struggled to focus your thoughts on anything but how you’ll tell your family that you were moving abroad at such short term notice. How to tell your friends that you would have to cancel your night out next week, too. But most of all, how to tell him.

Yoonoh and you have been dating for as long as you care to remember freshman year of college. He was in so many of your classes that it was simply impossible not to notice the dimple clad boy. He had more of a baby face back then, eighteen and eager to be part of the frathouse with a terrible composition of greek letters. It was easy to get lost in his flirting and niceties, and yet Yoonoh wasn’t like the other frat members.

His ways were more pure, and you’re pretty sure he kept track of when the two of you met up and for what. He enjoyed your company, and you enjoyed his, and eventually this enjoyment grew into a relationship by the end of second semester. You could distinctly remember that he brought you yogurt cups during finals to make sure you are something, and you similarly tried to get him granola bars whenever you were free.

Upon finishing college, you moved in together. Yoonoh struggled to get a job for a while, though you were both ecstatic when he got into his desired field and got the opportunity to do exactly what he loved. He grew pride for you as you did for him, and each day was better than the last. You simply understood each other through everything that happened to you.

And now you’d have to break to him that in a week, you’d be moving away from everyone, from him, and from your quaint little house.

You shivered again, and you realized that it was because of how truly distressed this made you. You didn’t want to leave Yoonoh, but you also didn’t want to leave your career. You argued many times with yourself that you’d love to move one day, but you didn’t expect it to be so soon, or without him for that matter.

You knew you could carry yourself well without him— you were your own person, after all— but the thought of him being so far away from you made bile rise in your throat. Maybe he’d move with you? Despite your company offering a one person apartment, you’d be more than willing to live with him in any small space, and search for other places. You needed to talk to him though, something which required a lot of mental fortitude.

You knew Yoonoh was inside and cooking you dinner. Your shift was a twelve hour one, and he’s been home for more than four hours now. You also knew he most likely heard you in the driveway, and you knew that he was waiting. He’d know you were upset, because it wasn’t like you do not go inside immediately unless you had a bad day or were energetic enough to tend to your garden. He could probably deduce it was the former since your shifts weren’t usually half a day long, though, and you’d be knackered by hour nine.

When you stood up, a light breeze lulled your dizzy headed self to the wooden pillar by you first. You neatly returned the paper you held into a folder you carried with you (with stickers he bought for you, something that usually made you happy but now seemed to serve the purpose of reminding you you’ll have to leave him).

Closing your eyes, you didn’t let your mind run through possible scenarios of how you’d tell him, instead clouding over with the image of Yoonoh’s hurt face, pursed lips, and offended eyes. Malaise settled in the depth of your stomach, and you used your sleeve to tap away your tears. It didn’t matter, though; your eyes were already red, and filling up again.

You moved towards the door so slowly you thought of yourself as more fitting of a zombie than a person. Turning the doorknob suddenly felt as if you were touching the surface of the sun, and a similarly unpleasant warmth spread all throughout your body. You felt feverish with anticipation, and once you finally were inside you busied yourself with taking off your shoes slowly, glancing up towards the kitchen every once in a while.

As expected, he was there, removing the pan you two used for everything from the stove and dividing it evenly into two plates. Your chest was hollow, suddenly, all words lost as you stared at him from the doorway, carefully tending to garnishing your dish even though you’ve told him so many times he doesn’t have to. Yoonoh looked perfect simply standing there, focused, and you contemplated if you really should go through with your promotion after all— or should you even tell him? You could keep it from him and quit, but then you’d hurt him even more by lying and losing your income.

You sighed before you walked in, the way his face lit up upon seeing you effectively stabbing you right in the heart. He wiped his hand on his apron, adorned with silly ducks and a house warming gift from one of your friends, before he approached you. You didn’t let him hug you, however, placing your hand on his chest while your other gripped onto the cursed folder within which were the documents that bound you to the company.

He seemed shocked before he seemed hurt.

You worldlessly handed him the folder, moving past him to sit down on the chairs by the isle, leaning onto the counter with a finger to your temple, rubbing down in an attempt to soothe yourself. When you looked back at him at last, he was already turned towards you. Even though you weren’t next to him, you could tell that he was shaking, his eyes filling with tears as he held onto the paper you did the same to.

“When?”

His voice betrayed him, shaking. He sounded unstable and upset, and you didn’t blame him in the slightest. You took a deep breath, “The promotion? Today. The move… on Wednesday, next week.” You wavered slightly, voice quieting down. He nodded, a pained smile spreading onto his lips, the tears finally slipping down his cheeks. You stood up, nearing him again, but when you reached up to try and cup his cheek he simply moved away.

“You should pack,” he said it in such a tone that you can feel the ice of his words freeze over the blood in your veins, “you should really pack.”

You grabbed his wrist instead, just as he’s about to lift his hand to close the folder. Yoonoh’s never been a violent guy— he’s never done anything rash or moved in a harsh way— but he tore his hand from your grasp, moving further away from you. He didn’t waver again, extending the folder to you.

“Go.”

You took the folder, gripping it to your chest and getting closer once more, “Yoonoh-“ “No.” he sounded mad, cold and he begun driving a rift between you. You opened your mouth again, but he simply turned away from you and began walking towards the living room opposite the dining area. You followed closely behind, calling his name once more, and although you didn’t expect him to react and were about to plead for him to listen, he turned back sharply with narrowed eyes.

“I don’t want to hear it, actually. You know it’s not easy for me to go with you, and it’s not easy for me to see you go either,” he sounded venomous, hurt. Your resolve cracks at its edges and the folder is discarded on top of your shoe stand.

“I don’t want to quit, Yoonoh-“ but he interrupted you again, “I know, (Y/N). I’m painfully aware you’re not going to quit, and I know I won’t let you do it anyway. But I’m not going to watch you leave me just like this, and I know you’ll try to convince me to come with you. You know I can’t.”

“And why not?” you hissed, eyes welling up yet again, “You know you could! You’d just have to-“

“Quit, leave all our friends and our family, settle with you and try to look for another job.” He harshly whispered before laughing humorlessly, “You know I won’t do that. I love my job, and I love you but I also love being here, and I don’t want to leave.”

You crossed your arms, the sense of pressure rushing all the way from your toes to the very top of your head, and the ache spreading through your body hurts in a much different way, “So you’re scared of change?”

This seemed to tip him over, and the tears on his cheeks raced down faster, a shuddering breath reaching your ears, “I think it’s best you leave. I really do.”

He turned away from you, closing the door to the living room and accompanying it with the click of the key inside the lock. It all suddenly rushed forward, and you felt yourself collapse emotionally, your sleeve failing to catch the stray tears as you rushed up the stairs.

You packed it all; your clothes, your special products, your pictures, devices and everything you had. It was a sad sight to see that two suitcases were all of your belongings for the past couple years, but you nonetheless rush them down while dialing the only person you know would be willing to help; Doyoung.

You opted not to drive in your confusion, rage and sadness, instead calling him to come pick you up. Your friend was sensible enough, obviously, though the concerned expression he donned and the same he pointed towards your front door told you that he was going to ask questions, and invest himself in this. Yoonoh and him were better friends, you knew this, though Doyoung was very much the type of person to judge someone based on information rather than relation, for which you were very grateful.

The ride to his place was mostly quiet, save for him insisting you can stay the whole week at his place and you claiming that a hotel would be fine. He didn’t let you go through with it, though, and even brought your luggage up to his guest room. His mother looked at you with so much sympathy— Miss Kim even hugged you tightly, enough to make you burst out into more tears— and Doyoung’s father chimed in with his own support, letting you know you’re always welcome.

The week was spent saying goodbye to your family members first, then the friends who you also had to apologize to, save for Doyoung. He made sure to help you with shopping for the trip itself as well, and even looked up the address your company gave and did the necessary research on the building while you worked and prepared.

Doyoung’s mum was even polite enough to go get your car from your (or Yoonoh’s, you weren’t sure quite yet) house, and his dad helped set up ads for the car to be sold. He also cheekily mentioned he would buy it off of you had he known how to drive your car specifically, to which you seriously offered to teach him how to use an automatic.

You were reading up on a tourist guide the night before your flight, when the door to Doyoung’s room opened slowly. Miss Kim carried a tray of fruit, and an expression of pure concern donned onto her aging face. You sat up properly in the computer chair, and she set the plates on the desk before taking a deep breath.

“Someone’s here to see you.”

Even though she didn’t explicitly state who, you knew. You knew Yoonoh was there, and it was excitement which bled into you first, closely followed by embarrassment. This was your friend’s house, where his parents lived no less, and yet your boyfriend (or was it now ex? You hoped not) showed up to see you, most likely talk to you as well. You had to compose yourself first before you nodded, following Miss Kim downstairs.

And really, there he was, again, though he seemed somehow paler. You had to gulp down your nervousness as you descended, whispering to him in passing that you want to take this outside. The Kims’ property was very large, intricately fenced, and you had no fear of the neighbours being snoopy here. Yoonoh, on the other hand, made you incredibly fearful, for whatever his words would be.

He avoided your gaze at first, though you uttered a ‘well?’ to get his attention, which made him regard you with shock, as if you broke him out of a reverie.

“I, uh…” he struggled, wringing his hands within one another before cracking his knuckles. You knew that he was nervous now, certainly.

“I’m sorry,” Yoonoh began with caution, “I shouldn’t have kicked you out. I shouldn’t even have acted like that. I-I… I wanted to wish you a safe trip,” his gaze fell onto the soft grass of the front yard of the Kims’ house, but you knew that if he were to look at you he’d want to say something else. You just had no idea what.

You reached up to cup his cheek, to which he responded by leaning his head into your palm, making you chuckle. “What do you want to tell me, sweet boy?” you tilted your own head, your eyes betraying that you were both upset and still very much in love with the man in front of you.

He snapped up as if he got bitten all of a sudden, settling on watching you. It took Yoonoh time, you knew this, and so you stayed calm, thumb slowly massaging the skin of his face. The silence was heavy, and yet somehow more comforting, warm. You posed that it could be because of how long it seemed since you last saw him, the trick of time making it feel as if it’s been more than just six days.

Yoonoh chuckled suddenly, bringing you back to the real life as he gripped your hand with his, indicating that he was ready; “I won’t move with you. I’m staying here. But I want this to work— I can’t without us. Even if it’s distance.”

You blinked once, twice, before you felt tears sting at your eyes and leave just as soon as they came. It felt as if he was confessing once again, like you were freshmen and he was just your friend who you liked a lot, and who you knew you’d end up loving. The warmth of the evening was equally reminiscent to the warmth of that evening, sitting together at a pathetic excuse of a beach bonfire party, and far away from the world. He was the only person you could see right now, and you wanted it to stay this way, maybe even forever.

Your breath hitched, and you nodded, before he took the initiative to hug you tightly. Whispered ‘I missed you’s and proclamations of love were exchanged, and yet again you felt yourself shedding way too many tears, staining your cheeks.

You stand at the airport, very familiar luggage in hand. None of your family was available today, which Mr. Kim found outrageous enough to make an entourage of his own, inviting your friends and of course himself and his wife, as well as Doyoung. You hug each and every one of the people in the party (though it takes a bit to separate from a sniffling Donghyuck who promises to sneak onto the flight in case you’re lonely). Until you reach Yoonoh.

You smile at him, which he reciprocates with a bit of an unsure but delightfully dimpled one of his own. He takes your hand first, and whispers in your ear while everyone else observes, and then he moulds his lips against your forehead, wishing you a safe flight.

You depart with joy on your face, but sorrow in your stomach. You wave, and wave, until you have to board and leave.

And when you’re on the plane, finally taking off, Yoonoh’s words ring in your mind once again.

‘I’ll see you next month, my darling.’

[sanshineaus]

Hi I would Ike the request but where are the rules? Thanks hon

hello ! i forgot that not everyone can see, especially mobile users. my rules can be found here and i will most likely update this post when i have a masterlist made <3

[sanshineaus]

Hi I would Ike the request but where are the rules? Thanks hon

hello ! i forgot that not everyone can see, especially mobile users. my rules can be found here and i will most likely update this post when i have a masterlist made <3

[sanshineaus]

mingi : friends to lovers

warnings: none!

type: bulletpoint au, fluff

word count: 1989 (a lil short!! i’m very sorry)

a/n: as a san stan, we get fed content every 30 minutes and y’all mingi stans are the backbone of the fandom

you and mingi have a very sweet friendship, really

he and you would most likely die for each other

but also if he touches your charger you WILL kill him

you met through another friend, at their birthday party

right after you congratulated them and handed them their gift, mingi came around the corner and clumsily nearly spilled a drink on you

he still apologized though!!! AND offered to check for you if there was a drink anywhere

your friend laughed and introduced you two

'he's cute isn't he?'

oh boy was he!!!

he really was sweet too; you didn’t know anyone else but your friend and now, him, and he was nice enough to let you stick to him like glue

you even ended up exchanging numbers, and playing 8ball in your respective cabs when the party ended

from then on you began texting

and it grew into exchanging social media

to being inseparable in real life too

mingi would constantly bug you to go out and eat with him

and you’d frequently go shopping together (or window shopping. mingi just LOOKS stingy)

when your snap streaks had officially reached 420 days, mingi made sure to screenshot it and post it on all social media

as he did with any you content in general

and let’s be honest with ourselves— mingi’s a very, very beautiful person

so there was no shortage of people in his dms

most of which happened to be opening with ‘are you single’

because of your numerous posts together, it just didn’t seem likely

but really, you’d say ‘ew’ to that, because ew, that’s your best friend

who you’ve seen snotty crying over a picture of a particularly small puppy resting on a very large cat

and who has seen YOU snotty crying over the same picture but shhhh

you honestly think there’s no way you like him

your heart doesn’t palpitate around him or anything like that

(your chest just gets concerningly warm, so does your face and ears, and you have to take several gulps of air to compose yourself when he smiles. shhhhh)

EVEN if you did (which you don’t!) he wouldn’t like you back

he’s mingi

all mingi likes is dragging you out of bed by your feet

and making you regret giving him a spare key to your place

he’s in general grossly sappy, though

he fully understands that he’s cute and you detest it

because he ASKS you. he has the gall, the nerve to put on a silly cat, make a face at you in the store you’re in, and ask if he’s cute

and you want to say yes and laugh along with him but you settle for sighing and saying ‘sure’

but each and every time

he smiles

and it’s really rejuvenating. maybe an angel gets its wings or something. or fairies get born?

you two once debated over which of those two phrases is better, and you were the firm ‘fairy gets its wings’ believer

until he seemed a bit pouty and you decided to just merge the two

you have very stupid discussions

of the ‘do we belong in a circus’ kind

(yes, you might)

his very hidden talent is carrying a lot of mugs

mingi’s fingers are long, and he hangs the mugs off of them while maintaining focus

his record? 24 mugs

one of which broke while he walked from his room to the dishwasher

he was sad about it because it was a mug shaped like a bird

and you had to both comfort him and drive him in his tears to the store to get another one

to be fair, you also felt bad. so, so bad, because the mug was ADORABLE and you could tell mingi thought so too

but you got a Mingi Hug out of it later

when he thanked you, he really did go all out

(he put in no effort, he was just very huggable and it was very nice)

it was when you were very tired and on the brink of Death™ (you know, Death™, like when you just want to nap for 78 hours somewhere in a forest temple)

that you two decide to go to a 7/11

you both unfortunately have this thing called responsibilities so for whatever reason, neither of you can sleep

and so you offer to mingi to meet up at the store between your houses

to which he agrees, and asks if he can come over

to which you say no, but you also say YOLO™ and decide to leave your work in progress to meet up with your friend

(be gay do crime)

you don’t really do either, actually, you respectfully pay for your drinks and those packaged meals which are never as good at day as when they are at night

he insists you use the plastic bag you two had as a seat so your butt doesn’t get cold

and you do, but you also try and elbow his shin when he also sits down on the concrete

you are reminded of the ew feeling of seeing your best friend scarf down sushi like it’s soup

and he somehow manages to talk coherently about his stupid escapade which brought him to this point of meeting up with you

it’s so frustratingly endearing

because you know he’s enjoying himself if he doesn’t stop talking, and you know he’s comfortable around you

and that’s what makes you heart FINALLY flutter

it doesn’t take long for you two to depart, when you finish your own food and drink

and berate him a bit for not saving his drink for when he ended his meal and then stole a sip— no, a GULP from you

that night you give up on your project

(obviously not entirely)

but you’re certainly too busy to think straight

and lying in your bed with your heart beating quick is something you find pretty exhilarating

it’s actually pretty nice to like someone

because anything mingi does is fun, too

he gives you his jacket? perfection

he gives you a noogie? not AS perfect or ideal, but you’re happy he has you in a headlock because it’s a touch of human contact

and you like This human

he tries talking to you about what he would do if aliens landed

and you call him out on his bullshit, not because he’s wrong but because you love him <3 and he’s also wrong

he would NOT try and be nice to them, he’d immediately go in and look if there’s more species

“mingi would accidentally bring doomsday because he’d reject the flirting of an alien princess” yunho (who you met through mingi on the exact day of your 420 streak) adds, from somewhere near you guys in mingi’s apartment, and you absolutely agree

“marriage proposal? come on, i’d know!”

yunho looks at you, then at mingi, then back at you, and just shakes his head

and you feel offended because you’re aware of what yunho’s thinking

but mingi’s less on board

“are you saying they’re an alien princess?”

you argue that if you were an alien, you’d abolish the monarchy

but you also add that you’d rather be king if it came down to it

mingi is very insistent and it’s then when you realize that your heart is beating like that again

because he’s stood up and taken you with him to show to yunho that you’d make a terrific alien princess if only they put you in a sci-fi dress and crown

you want to put mingi in a sci-fi dress and crown all of a sudden, you don’t know : /

it’s prerogative you get more than one Mingi Hug

Mingi Hugs are a bit of an oddity

not because he doesn’t hug you often

it’s just that this is such a specific brand of hug that he reserves for moments of vulnerability

where he protectively wraps his arms around you, but places his head on your shoulder to hide his face

maybe he’s crying, maybe you’re crying, maybe neither is happening and he’s just grateful you’re there, but you’ve noticed he doesn’t do it as often to other people

it’s really cute, though

you’re sitting on your roof one night

not star gazing, mingi just said he read an article that said some phenomena will hit the skies

you tried to listen to him but he was so excited that explaining failed him and he just grabbed your hand to pull you out

(not that you were complaining, he was so gentle and cute)

you are lying down next to each other; and he’s pointing out constellations to you

you see some of them, others are less easy to spot, but every once in a while he rambles about something interesting he knew

but then it starts

you hear a sizzling first, and then a shot

and your sky is red… with a firework

after that, there’s another pound, the colour this time pink

it is pretty— colours exploding against the night sky is pretty

but what the hell? this isn’t a nebular event

it’s when you finally tear your eyes away from the sky to mingi to interrogate him that you see he’s already looking at you

and he has a very sweet smile on his face

“it’s our 500th snap streak day”

and you aren’t stupid, so you know he’s behind the fireworks, but

“why?”

and he lets out a very burdened sigh before he grabs your wrist, and places your hand in his

“it means i’ve liked you for 500 days”

there’s two emotions fluctuating all throughout

relief and joy

so you scoot over and let go of his hand so that you can swing your arms around his neck

his arms, for the first time, are loose, and you can absolutely hear the beating of his heart

the fireworks stop all of a sudden when your neighbour yells

but you ignore her so you can try and get even closer to mingi

you mumble that you like him too

however he hugs you tighter

and tells you he can’t hear you

but he DEFINITELY CAN AND HE’S JUST—UGHHH

so you decide to be even worse about it

and you y e l l it

now the whole neighbourhood knows you like mingi

though it does gradually grow into love

mingi’s a very caring boyfriend; after all, he was exactly the same as a friend

now with the added bonus of being able to kiss you

which is a power he abuses thoroughly

he gives forehead and temple kisses the most

and he’s a very terrible gremlin, so he sometimes holds your head only to bring it to his lips

or he’ll pick you up randomly

“can you tell i worked out?”

yes, you can, but you’re more focused on trying to land safely if he loses his grip

not that you don’t trust him

you trust him in every aspect of the relationship

he’s reliable— and also brings you food at inconvenient times of the day

plus you get to visit each other whenever

he likes doing animal face masks with you

and offers a bath every. time.

he runs some of the best bubble baths though, you can’t lie

he’s also very warm most of the time, so if you’re a heat sink… guess what! you no longer are!

mingi’s also very careful

he makes mistakes often; physically breaking things, sometimes he doesn’t know his strength, and so on

but he’s always ready to apologize and get you something new

he sometimes ends up going too far with a joke?

apology!

he’s very meticulous with it too. words mean as much as actions to him, and so there’s a lot of meaning in his apologies

he’s just cute

you’re both very cute but also a very annoying couple

pda? she’s your best friend

*yeosang cringes*

[sanshineaus]

hiii i know i don’t have many followers, but my requests are open! :D feel free to request anything after reading the rules!

[warmau]

☆ ko-fi request: meet-cute!changkyun au (originally asking for friends-to-lovers, find that au for kyun here) 

absolutely nothing about this day could be going any worse

is what you think as you find yourself stuck in a downpour, using an old magazine you scrummaged out of your bag for cover. 

on top of the horrid weather, you had had an embarrassingly bad day at work. fumbling on a project and taking a vocal beating from your boss in front of everyone.

and then realizing the candy you’d brought to nibble on during breaks had spoiled. TWO months ago.

you just wanted to get home, tapping your foot impatiently and waiting for the bus

feeling the fabric of your shirt stick to your skin 

and when you saw it turn the corner, you used one hand to fish your bus pass from your pocket - stepping forward to the curb of the street

just as you had managed to pin it between your fingers, you pulled the pass out and watched - in absolute pain - as the thin material slipped between your fingers

clanking against the open sewer drain beside the curb

you stare, and stare, and stare - 

the bus pulls up and the people throw glares at you as the pile inside

but you’re still staring at your bus pass, now long forgotten in the sewer waters below

and how am i going to get home now?!?!?!

you wail inside your mind, blinking and coming to the conclusion that something - some higher power - must have cursed you on this day

you are waiting to hear the sound of the bus doors close, leaving you behind

when someone taps your shoulder and makes you snap out of your upset daze

“h-huh?”

you turn and see an unfamiliar face

its handsome and the eyes are a dark brown

messy bangs and studs in his ears - you are sure you don’t know this person

and even more strange is the fact that they lift your hand by the wrist and drop a bus pass in it

your eyes follow as they board the bus and a loud, annoyed honk from the driver a moment later informs you that you should get on too

you do so - paying with the strangers bus pass - and scope him out

luckily, a seat directly in front of his is open and you situate yourself there

hiding your wet magazine in your purse with a slight cringe before turning to face him

he doesn’t do the same

instead, he’s already put on a pair of headphones and is facing the window outside

maybe five or six stops passes like this - with you fixated on him and him,,,,,,,,,,flat our ignoring you

until finally just as the bus pulls up to its next location - he tugs the headphones off and turns to face you

“do you need something?”

“i wanted to say thank you-”

he starts to raise his hands up to put the headphones on again and you jump to your next sentence

“and what should i do to repay you for your kindness?”

his hands pause and he seems to fall into deep thought

oh no, i hope he doesnt ask me to do anything weird-

“ok, this should be easy-”

you perk up

“repay me by leaving me alone.”

you don’t even fully register the request till he’s already blasting music into his ears again, slumped against the seat with his profile turned away from you again

ho-how rude?!?!?!

you think, but bite back the urge to blurt it out

instead you insist again, even though you know he can’t hear you

“no really, do tell me what i can do!”

he ignores you for a moment again

so you take a deep breath and ask again, “really - i dont want to-”

he picks up his phone and turns the volume off, slipping the headphones around his neck

“a bus pass isnt that expensive, dont worry about it-”

“it’s not the money! it’s the gesture - i dont want to owe someone a debt-”

he raises an eyebrow

“you don’t owe me a debt for a three dollar-”

“do you like coffee?”

he stutters backwards at the sudden question

“there’s a place near my stop that has really good coffee, they have seasonal summer stuff too. if you have the time i could treat you-”

“it’s f-”

“it’s not fine! let me do something nice for you!”

“you don’t even know my name!”

you clap your hands and some other passengers roll their eyes at you two

“you could tell me it over coffee!! see, it’s perfect-”

“no.”

“no, you don’t like coffee or no you don’t have time - we can plan for another time-”

“are you not going to give up?”

you pull your phone out and turn it around to him - opening up the create a contact

“no! if you can’t do it today, ill get you coffee another day!”

he stares at the screen and then at you

who is smiling brightly despite the fact that he’s tried so hard to chase you off of him

he sighs and takes the phone, part of you is convinced it’ll be a fake number and name

but it’s the thought that counts - and you do really want to pay him back for being so nice to you (sans the whole ‘leave me alone’ business)

he plops the phone back in your hands and you read the name

“changkyun?”

“,,,,,,,,,,,so whats this coffee place you’re talking about?”

excited you start to tell him all about it, you don’t notice the time pass and you almost miss your stop so you end up having to gather your things like a madperson - dropping your keys twice and nearly forgetting your phone

before the bus pulls up you tell changkyun you’ll call him again and he can pick a time

he stops you just before you can rush for the opening doors and you turn with wide eyes

he pulls an umbrella from his side and hands it to you 

you want to say something but the bus driver announces that the doors are going to close in a moment 

you say a quick thank you, bowing a bit and almost knocking your head onto one of the hand poles as you scamper off the bus 

you open the umbrella and turn to see if you can spot changkyun through the window of the bus as it pulls away

you do - and wave, your keys go tumbling from your hand again

as you lean down to pick them up you don’t notice changkyun smile to himself

he’s never met someone so persistent like you - but the image of you smiling and handing him your phone had seemed so 

light

later that night, your text which read: when are you free for coffee btw?

is answered with a date and a time

you wonder briefly if it really is changkyun’s number, but you get a photo a moment later

its changkyun and he’s holding up your id card from work

also you left this on the bus, guess youll owe me two coffees now.

[sanshineaus]

i’m currently thinking about the fact i have a paid assassin seonghwa in the oven and i shld probably start on something shorter so that i don’t end up abandoning my blog for like 8 weeks ripsidughes

[sanshineaus]

six or so

JUNG YOONOH/JAEYHUN X READER

warnings: none

type: drabble, fluff

word count: 2694

a/n: yoonoh tattoo for new comeback yoonoh tattoo for new comeback yoonoh ta-

”Oh my God, Yoonoh,“ your hands instinctively come to cover your mouth, your lips already curling into a grin that makes your eyes turn into crescents.

“Yeah?” the man in question raises his head from his phone, and you can’t help but let out an incredulous chuckle. Now that his neck is in view, the tattoo adorning it truly makes you huff with joy.

The other commuters at the bus station certainly aren’t fans of your ardour.

The ink is anything but delicate, and tracing it with your eyes, you realize how big it really is. Running from his collarbone and all the way up to his ear, the face seems hostile; and although you can’t make out exactly what it is, the fangs are simply perfectly done, and the rough shading only adds onto the charm of it.

Your hands slowly find their way back down to your sides, and your grin seems to widen as you let out yet another peep of pure joy, “It looks so good on you!”

Yoonoh’s smile in return is quite bashful, and he hangs his head down once again with a small wince—the flesh must still be a bit tender, after all he had only disappeared for six or so days and judging by the size of the tattoo it can’t have healed evenly everywhere.

Your best friend finally lifts his beautiful head again, and you feel yourself flutter when you catch his grinning gaze, his teeth on full display as he moved to greet you at last. A quick hug, though he makes sure to sway you both to the left, and you can’t help the laugh which bubbles up to your lips once again.

Yoonoh just seems to elicit joy from you, every single one of his appearances prompting you to smile and brightening your day. It’s not that he offers himself to do so or anything like that—it’s just that you feel it’s only natural to mimic the dimpled boy in his very own cheer.

You’ve exchanged so many jokes and tremors within the six or so years you’ve known each other. From highschool and petty drama where you vowed to each other to never interact with humans over a pint of rum-chocolate ice cream, to now; fresh out of college and promising each other to not forget friend date nights over a bottle of whatever was cheap and weak (because you both thankfully found jobs and you’d like to keep them AND drink on week nights).

You two finally begin walking, away from the bus station you, and into the street right next to it. The change of scenery would’ve given you whiplash if it weren’t for you getting accustomed to the city. Bustling with life, the new corner of town breathed modern and chic, paved elegantly but full of people on a nightly outing, much like yourself and Yoonoh.

Along the pavement, mostly restaurants and niche stores lined up one after another. Though the stores were mostly in the process of closing up (like the leather store you knew everyone went to for a new wallet or jacket), the restaurants were just starting. Even if none of them stayed open past one in the morning, their peak was just starting. Traditional restaurants which you knew to be distinguished, those newer and sleek ones with food you’d spend half your paycheck on, and of course the animal cafés wrapping up their last shift, it was all so natural.

“So, what do you feel like eating?” you break the silence, looking at the man next to you. Yoonoh seems to break out of a reverie and you wonder why he’s so beautiful just simply not paying attention.

“The usual?” he asks out loud, and you simply agree by rising to your tippy toes to scan how far away your favourite restaurant is. The crowd is certainly at a peak tonight, and although you know where to go, Yoonoh grabs you by your elbow, gentle as ever, and breaks his way through the crowd.

He’s truly a darling, you realize, when he links your arms properly and worms his way through the surplus of people. You try to look ahead so as not to bump into anyone, but even from the side, Yoonoh is so distracting and simply amazing. Your heart thumps in your chest.

Even as you face the restaurant door, and both try to peer inside to check for a possible table, he doesn’t let go of your arm. For a split second, there’s guilt creeping up your neck for the sole reason of your heart racing and your stomach fluttering for contact which you’re used to, and something he’s done before with you, but it quickly dissipates when you remind yourself that it’s fine. You’re not doing anything wrong just holding on to your friend, because Yoonoh wouldn’t have continued to hold you if he wasn’t okay with it.

What does kill you, though, is him opening the door for you.

It’s a simple gesture and he’s just being polite, you remind yourself again, and you’re probably right. But the way he smiles at you before saying there’s a table he saw by the cash register? It simply knocks a breath out of your lungs, and you grin while you follow him.

Your dinner goes well— when you’re seated, you immediately begin catching up. Yoonoh tells you about his promotion, and before you know it, you’re deciding on ordering shots to really celebrate. Neither of you are drunk because your meals are truly heavy and the drinks you ordered before the shots were sipped slowly, but you’re feeling buzzed and elated.

It’s only after you start discussing music that you realize the restaurant is beginning to slowly but surely clear out. People were leaving and the staff were wiping down tables with an air of finality. To avoid feeling bad, you finish up your drinks and split the bill before walking outside, which is when Yoonoh turns to you, “Come over?”

Come over. You chuckle at that and nod, obviously. You’ve been over before, sleeping over and joking around with Yoonoh. You didn’t do it often¸ because you were two adults with busy schedules, but sleepovers with him were such a warm thing to experience.

You slept over for Christmas the first year he got the apartment— cozying up and taking quizzes on the internet before making breakfast food for dinner. You stayed up more than you slept, and you even ended up building a fort for your friends who were set to come over in a couple hours. It felt incredibly homey, and you truly had fun.

But you had work tomorrow… and so did he… Before you could even get a word in, he grabbed your hand to lead you out of the street, which was also slowly clearing out. “I’ll call in sick, I hope that you can, too.”

Come to think of it, you could— you didn’t use any sick days, and you definitely missed talking to Yoonoh when the clock hand passed three. He was much more open and raw, and so were you; but the comfort never left. He’d tell you about his life, and you’d tell him about yours before one of you would crack a horrible joke that made both of you feel better.

Catching the bus is easy enough, and you and Yoonoh find yourself in front of his apartment soon enough. Walking up the stairs is a bit of a struggle, because he keeps giggling and it makes you way too happy to focus on the basic action of moving. But this is fine, because he seems so happy and light on his feet that it simply makes you forget your inability to concentrate around him.

He opens the door for you again, and you rush to take your shoes off so that you can jump onto his couch. He makes a sound, you assume to complain, before he comes to yank you from the couch by your arm.

“Come on, I’ll give you spare pyjamas! Get up,” he whines, though there’s a grin on his face, and he finishes by huffing. You only listen to him because you feel uncomfortable in the attire you have donned (or that’s what you tell yourself).

It’s when you’re both in his undoubtedly large bed, together and under two blankets because he insists it’s cold, giggling at a silly remark you made, that you realize how smitten you feel. Yoonoh looks adorable in his sleepwear, eyes hidden behind his eyelids as he smiles. You caused that smile— something that brings a weird sense of pride into your heart. It makes you feel warm; Yoonoh makes you feel warm.

He decides at once that it’s time to sleep, and your gaze casts towards the clock on his wall reading four fifty something. It’s closer to six than you’d like, and you agree to both text your workplaces before passing out.

You’re not proud of the lie you come up with for your manager, but you don’t stress about it as you turn your back to Yoonoh so that you can finally close your eyes. You simply can’t, though, your stomach tightening with a burning curiosity.

You turn to him again, “Yoonoh…” and he opens his eyes gingerly. You laugh at his confused eyes, before inching closer— maybe too close, but your own gaze finds his neck. “Why did you get the tattoo? Really.”

He purses his lips, turning his head upwards so you can get another look at the tattoo. You wiggle your hand out of the blanket to softly press against his neck, tracing the design gingerly. He doesn’t complain, but you can tell that the very edges of the tattoo still haven’t healed up properly, and so you retract your hand.

“You want a truthful answer? I just thought it’d be cool,” Yoonoh begins, “but it has a meaning. It’s an oni tattoo on the neck, which would mean I would’ve been able to hide it if I had long hair. It’s not the mask though, so it wouldn’t be ‘evil’.

“It can mean two things— the fangs mean that I’m warding off people and protecting myself. Kinda like one of those poisonous frogs, but less colourful. The face itself means that I’m trying to transcend humanity, get better and grow stronger with the help of people.

“Oh, and speaking of colour— I wanted it in full colour at first, but then the artist suggested more fine lined detail and we just went with it. I guess I’m happy with it, since it’s on my neck and all.”

You hum in wonder, coming to lie down even closer to him. Your nose brushes against his shoulder, and you hear Yoonoh’s breath hitch, making your own stop in its tracks. “It’s cool, too. I already told you it looks good,” you whisper.

You hear him let out a laughing breath, before he bids you goodnight with your name in tow.

When you wake up again, the morning feels way too new. Somehow, throughout the night (or, morning, rather, as it’s now well in the afternoon) you managed to get your head on Yoonoh’s chest. His arm sits around your shoulders, whilst yours is wrapped around his torso. He’s still sleeping peacefully, and so you slip out of his death grip as quietly as you can, so as not to wake him.

You know your way around his home, and your instinct is to make him tea. You’re not sure what he has in his fridge, so you opt not to start on breakfast. Yoonoh had the worst habit of forgetting to stack up or grocery shop at all, usually getting take-out instead of cooking. You don’t exactly want to take your chances.

You do work while he’s asleep, though, washing his dishes and wiping down his fancy counter. He comes out while you’re throwing away the paper towel you used. Yoonoh’s morning smile is the best thing in the world, you think, because he seems so pure as he comes to prop himself up on the counter.

“Good morning.” His voice is even better to head, and the grogginess not fully gone from it makes you smile as you hand him the cup of lukewarm tea.

Your cup is nearly finished, but as you bring it up to your lips, he speaks, “Can I ask you a question?”

A million things run through your mind at once, at last settling on concern for your friend. You raise your eyebrow at him, sitting across from where he was leaning. Yoonoh smiles at you again, most likely to try and put you at ease, “Did you… did you enjoy your time with me?”

It rings in your head that something’s not right, and your face contorts as you try and figure out what he means. Your voice carries a curious lilt within it, “Of course. I always enjoy when we go out.”

But it doesn’t seem to be enough for him. Yoonoh takes a sip of his tea, and his eyes seem determined to bore into your soul. You try to maintain the intense eye contact, waiting for him to finally voice his doubts. Within minutes, everything has turned way too tense for your taste, and you simply have to reach out to press your hand against your friend’s arm.

He puts his tea mug down, standing upright and walking over to your side of the counter. You’re entirely surprised when he grabs your cheeks, cupping them together. You let out a noise you’re not proud of, and involuntarily jerk backwards, but the man simply holds you in place. He’s gentle, though, and you ease up once he gives you a smile.

“I meant, did you enjoy sleeping with me,” to this you give a snort, and he grimaces before pinching your cheek, “not like that, you nerd.” This causes you to give a half-assed kick to his shins, to which he pretends to be incredibly hurt, ows and ouchs included.

“Yes, Yoonoh. I enjoyed sleeping in your bed,” you chuckle, hooking your hands onto his elbows. “What’s with the sudden questioning?”

He squished your cheeks together once more, “I don’t really know where to start with it. You make me kind of nervous to even try.”

You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, your brain running through and endless amount of possibilities as to what Yoonoh could possibly mean. Your hands gripped at his elbows, and your eyebrows furrowed as you got ready to fire out questions, but luckily he spoke again before you embarrassed yourself.

“I’ve always felt different towards you, I guess. We’ve been friends for so long that I just never thought it was anything serious. And I’ve felt this before— just like last night— but… ahh,” his face scrunched up, and yours followed soon as the corners of your lips rose into a petite grin.

“I guess what I’m saying is that I really, really like you, and yesterday cemented it.” He finally gets out, sighing. You stay there for a moment, letting his words register in your brain. He’s special to you… and you sound to be just as special to him.

Your hands move to his wrists, patting them to get him to loosen up. It gives you some leeway to close the distance between the two of you, bringing him into a ginger kiss. Yoonoh seems surprised (though you don’t entirely blame him for it), a startled yip leaving his lips. His grip on your cheeks loosens with time as he moulds his lips against yours, thumbs running over your cheeks.

You don’t keep him there for long, sudden bashfulness hitting you. You pull away, finding it a bit challenging to look him in the eyes again, though when you do you’re met with the warmth you’ve familiarised yourself with. You can’t help the laugh bubbling out of you, pulling Yoonoh close to you into a death grip of a hug.

“I really, really like you too silly. And for six or so years, too.”

[sanshineaus]

{choi san social media au}

boyfriend!san x reader texts

ignore the time stamps pls

[sanshineaus]

it was acceptable in the 80s

MARK LEE 80s AU

warnings: none

type: bulletpoint au, fluff

word count: 2383

a/n: first post! i just hope you enjoy :D

mark is just a regular coffee shop worker by day; a polite boy who serves clumsy smiles and a small cookie with each black coffee.

and he’s not remarkable in the slightest, really.

he’s lost to his sea of coworkers, all equally polite and eager.

mark’s fresh out of college, really. he majored in music, much to his parents’ chagrin, and to his own dismay could only land a job in said coffee shop.

but by night, mark spends hours practicing bass in a shed he rented with his ‘bandmates’, yuta and johnny. 

they’re not so much a band because of how rare it is they’re together to practice a song, even if they write separately often and manage to harmonise their thoughts well.

sometimes, he feels as if it’s not worth it; yuta is constantly busy trying to finish his master’s, and johnny makes mark laugh way too much when he’s not practicing solo because his long limbs just seem to always be in the way.

but mark’s persistent. his bass playing is amazing (despite his insecurity in it, the practice is most definitely not for nothing) and his vocals are getting better too.

however, those pesky vocals just don’t make for a very compelling rock band, which is undoubtedly their sound.

they did book a bunch of gigs last summer, ‘83. it was pleasant environments, bars that needed a performer and a niche for a night. none of them minded, but not because they needed gigs. it was simply nice to play, and have people come up on stage to try their best at aiding them in singing when they figured out that johnny wasn’t quite exactly too good a vocalist either.

mark even had a great companionship going with a bar owner, taeil.

either way, mark still lives with his parents- his gigs only paid so much, and he instead helped around the house and worked his quaint little coffee shop job to aid as much as he could.

his parents absolutely nag his ear off lmAOO

mark’s fine with living like this. he doesn’t really brood often unless it’s when he’s sitting in the rented shed.

enough about his musically inclined nature though.

you’re absolutely not a regular in the coffee shop. matter of fact, you have no clue where it is.

or that it even exists, really.

you’re just a chill person, absolutely vibing! and you’ve pierced your ear three times, your sister almost fainted when she saw you.

you ride a motorbike, too. 

and you honestly might look a bit intimidating with your permed hair and black collared jacket with red stripes running down your left sleeve.

and suuure, a grandmother on the street has told you that you might end up in hell, and you said ‘alright’ and just left.

but you’re a very sweet person.

and you know what? it’s summer ‘84! and it feels as if there’s a change in the air and you get to live in a new way.

but a new way isn’t what you’re used to, and so your first late june visit is a bar with a couple of your other buddies. 

you all park your motorbikes outside, and one of your friends points out that the bar seems unusually full.

and sure, it’s a pretty famous bar in your town, but? not to the degree it’s currently packing.

there’s permed, layered hair everywhere, colourful two pieces, matching and annoyingly vibrant tracksuits.

you’d run your hand through your hair had it not been meticulously hairsprayed twenty minutes prior.

the first unusual thing as you approach the counter is that there’s a stage set up to the left of you.

so you order a drink and crane your body towards it.

idly sipping, you’re met with two guys setting something up on it.

an amplifier and a mic stand, and someone’s impossibly tall back in attire suspiciously similar to yours.

the dude facing you is also dressed in mostly blacks and leathers, but with an obnoxious neon green shirt. he’s handsome, too! 

his cheekbones are so very high, and his eyes seem so innocent.

he’s really cute!

it takes them about ten minutes to set everything up, and by the time you and your friends are all done with your drinks, the cute guy’s mic tapping catches the attention of the buzzing bar.

“good evening, we’re nct. let’s have a fun time?” he says with an equally cute grin and he seems so proud of himself for simply introducing the band.

he looks back to the tall guy, and the new addition of a strawberry blond, before they begin playing a familiar song. 

the reflex by duran duran fills in for the chatter and people are overjoyed.

even the boys seem to be enjoying themselves immensely, they’re performing with a vigour you can’t quite explain. 

and damn do bassists hit different.

they play a couple more songs spanning from 78 to now, and even sprinkle in some original songs.

apart from one song, you felt yourself throughout all of the performance.

around what you think might’ve been 11:30, they decided to bring patrons of the bar onto the stage. 

it was then that you realised your town truly lacks the talent these three boys had.

and your friend nudges you.

“go on on for the next song.”

and you’ve had a couple drinks already. there is most definitely courage from everywhere, so when the strawberry blond asks if there’s any takers for crimson and clover, you stand up and make your way to the mic as swiftly as possible.

and holy hell do you belt your little heart out. 

crimson and clover might just stay an evergreen.

the band plays behind you naturally- and you feel very comfortable. but the song ends and you decide that maybe someone else should have the opportunity to get applauded like you just had.

the rest of your night is going great, even though your group of friends thins and you stay with a much closer circle until 3am, when they finally stop playing.

you know you just have to talk to the cute guy, or you’ll end up suffering long time bassist longing.

and so you stand up while the bar begins to empty out. 

it’s very unprofessional how the owner has the bartender be the one to hand the three boys cash.

but you mingle in between the parties easily, offering to help the guys carry their equipment. 

to which the strawberry blond one smirks and gives you a considerably heavy box, where they most likely stashed the amplifier. 

“i’m yuta. this is mark, and that’s john.”

“johnny’s fine.”

“just john.”

you giggle at this, but you help them to their car.

the breeze of the night air is very refreshing as you place the heavy box into the open trunk of a benz w210.

once johnny closes the trunk, he’s the first to pull yuta into the backseat and help himself to the driver’s, sending you a smile. 

and mark seems very uncomfortable while standing next to you.

“uhh...”

what a riveting conversation.

you lean on the trunk, hoping johnny wouldn’t mind, and you send mark a reassuring smile.

“you play real nice, you know?” you begin, and his sheepish little smile is enough to send a puppy running for its cuteness title.

he thanks you quietly with a slight bow of his head, sucking in a breath of air right after while scratching the back of his neck.

and you take in a breath of your own before simply asking, “can i see you again some time?”

at this, he seems to lighten up with confusion.

but he nods eagerly. and 4am just seems a bit less cold.

mark takes out a visit card from his jacket pocket, and basically places it in your hands before slumming on about having to get into the car before johnny kills him. 

and before you know you’re in a stupor in a parking lot, smiling ear to ear while a friend of yours snickers from the entrance of the bar.

you walk home with your bike in tow, which takes you until 5:15. you simply don’t feel stable enough to drive, and your eyes might as well close with how much you’re smiling.

imagine your surprise when you’re finally home, in bed, and you look at the card only to realise it leads to a cafe and not to a smiling funny band boy.

but by the time you’re actually in bed, you’ve had to shower, take off your makeup, take the hair gel out, and so on, so it’s way too late (or... early?) to think about it.

you drift off to sleep until 1pm, and you’re woken up groggy and confused. the visit card sits at your bedside table still, though.

so you get ready, and you don on your usual attire and favourite jacket to go along. 

it’s a great day outside, and very, very warm compared to the morning.

you check the card again and on the back of it is a small, monochrome map of a part of town you never really quite drove through.

(the speed limit was too just small)

it takes you a very short time to actually get there but the parking is hellish; the streets are bustling and although that’d be fun if you were on foot, it notably is not.

however when you finally walk into the cafe, you’re greeted by many a people chatting, the atmosphere groovy and the jukebox in a corner reminiscent of the 50′s playing today’s tunes.

the chairs are pink and green, the tables annoyingly checkered and covered with see through cloth.

and behind the counter sit two people.

it’s where you head first, and you order a drink, the worker’s certainly aiding the pleasant atmosphere. 

you slip a question of “does someone named mark work here?” to the two people, to which one of them nods.

“i’ll fetch him for you.”

you situate yourself on a free table right across the counter, gazing at the vinyls and pictures lining the walls.

suddenly, mark’s standing near it with your cup in hand and a small plate with an even smaller cookie on it. 

his smile is still adorable.

meanwhile, mark is trying to keep calm behind said expression.

he found you exceptionally attractive- and when you offered to help him and the boys, he completely felt himself soar to new heights.

you had an aura which made mark feel renewed, in a sense, and his shift just got ten times better.

your visit to the cafe didn’t go unrewarded, really.

because it’s the way you acquire his number, and you get to call him each night from the house phone. 

he’s sometimes unavailable- and you get a certain amount of fear when it’s his mum that picks up the phone.

really, the woman’s very sweet, but you can just tell she’s growing annoyed by her son’s consistent talking to you (not to mention he must be hogging the phone, as last time you checked it was 12 when you started the call and 3 when you ended it).

it develops quickly; you just... click. and soon you’re visiting him in the cafe.

showing him how to ride your bike while he grips your waist in fear at the sheer speed of the custom thing.

watching him play in bars.

gradually coming to watch him in the rented shed.

it’s one night that you two are sitting together in the shed, his hand lazily wrapped around your shoulder and playing with your fringe, while he attempts to strum his bass. you laugh at a dumb joke he says.

and then you realise- he’s still very cute. even from the downside angle you’re looking at him from.

so you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek- something he’s become used to you doing- before asking if he wants to officiate it.

mark blushes first, and the red really suits him. maybe you’ll try and convince him to put some of your makeup on him, just to see.

but then he nods, and sits up only to kiss you.

from then on, not much changes; you’d already established a comfortable, flirty relationship, and you’ve developed crushes from the day you’ve met.

but a romance with mark, and for real, is fresh each day.

be it him taking you to the arcade, or him showing up to your house to ask you to help pierce him, or design a tattoo with him.

or be it him dedicating you a song, which he plays the night after much to the dismay of johnny and yuta, who are already tired of the constant love songs.

mark is just a comfort- he feels like what sweet tastes. 

you even get invited to sing with them a couple times. it’s all good fun, really, but you stop once the boys get their first actual offer.

a label, which wants to sign them, sponsor them, and within a year they have a concert in your hometown and a record.

you couldn’t be prouder when they truly achieve such a status to be invited as an opening act to another, more famous group’s tour. and although you don’t tag along, and miss mark immensely, he spends most of his coin on payphones to  contact you.

when he does come back, you’re overjoyed. and mark is, too.

he kisses you with such reverence and longing that you can almost feel his soul on your tongue. 

but mark doesn’t stay; and soon, neither do you.

tour after tour as an opening act, it’s the summer of ‘87 that you’re truly at your happiest when nct get a tour of their own. 

you and mark? continue to be happy, to flourish by each other’s side.

they say it’s within couples to fight. but your years together prove that this isn’t true, and the timid, sweet boy from a band who stole your heart and you, his burst of confidence and a ray of sun, have never once fought.

you drink, you cry, you laugh, all together and by each other’s side. as he grows in fame and maturity, you truly know:

you fell in love with the man.