#cctaemin

[ccxsejeong]

` out of place.

&. @cctaemin

there were many places to explore in the city as sejeong was about ready to scower all of it. she didn’t think about going home as always because what good would that do? she didn’t went to enter a hell home just to lock herself in her room and either was her friends as they’d tempt her into going forth late in the night. she wasn’t going to disagree as sejeong casually skips home for a chance to go out... clubbing (what she had expected anyway). it was a particular host club that she happened to hear so much about as they had suggested she’d visit, mostly out of curiosity.

sejeong had barely managed yet at least she was successful without being caught. to someone who has never gone to a place like this, it wasn't really anything that she had expected besides the older males surrounding them who worked there. sejeong could only hope that she could maneuver around without being noticed or attempt to let herself go the moment she could enter the place, she wasn't sure. all she knew was that she was completely out of place, attempting to disappear into the crowd by just sticking by her friend' side.

but no, that wasn't the case either when she didn't expect to lose them to easily in this crowd but throughout the night, almost in the span of five minutes, visitors came and they came and now she was by her lonesome and it became slightly awkward by herself. she lets out a sigh, casually backing away just to let everyone else through but still managing to bump into someone in the process. her head turns and she didn't expect an employee, staring at him apologetically. "whoops! i didn't see you there, sorry!" nice going sejeong, way to keep yourself from being noticed.

[ccxjae-blog]

hate

In the land of kings and queens, Jae was almost at the top of the hierarchy. He never became king, for he would never want such power. But he could not deny that he naturally had power because he was the king’s royal guard and of nobility. Yet, even if he had wealth, he was a giver. He was popular amon both classes, for he kept the kingdom safe and gave away what he could.

So, when he had heard rumors of a “snobby” rich kid. He was hoping that they were just that, rumors. Yet, his own opinions quickly formed from the few interactions with the man, known as Taemin. Simply put, he hated his attitude. It was atrocious for someone of such caliber. In fact, on this ocassion, the man had the gall to command him around like a servant. That simply would not be accepted by the card.

“Sir Taemin,” Jae sternly spoke, a low growl threatening to escape his throat, “I advise you speak with more caution. Your behavior is uncouth for someone of your type. I do not want to have such negative feelings for someone I barely know.”

*~*

[cchongbin-blog]

one for the money ;

@cctaemin

hongbin, for all his love of material things, has never once entertained the idea of going somewhere like a host club. if it weren’t for the smarmy looking bastards he’s seen making their way in and out, he might have considered checking what all the commotion was about sooner, but even death has it’s standards. 

of course, hongbin’s rather morbid curiosity for all things unpleasant, more often than not, tends to win out over the particular part of his pride that begs and pleads with him not to make an ass out of himself in such a way.  fortunately or not, said bit of pride fits beautifully under the heel of his shoe, crushed with little regard for consequences. 

upon entering said host club, a fresh wave of annoyance greets him, caresses his cheek like an all too affectionate lover. it’s obnoxious, to say the very least, and disgustingly familiar to say the most. really, he should learn to stop being so surprised every time one of his interests bites him on the ass. 

however, he’s soon sitting face to face with a man who looks as though he ate the cat who swallowed the canary- a grin with enough pomp to match his own, and a crisp suit that boasts the ability to monetarily back the shit he most likely talks. 

he finds himself proven correct in guessing his lovely host has a way with words, seeing as how each taunt he offers is returned to him in a way that’s borderline professional. he’d be impressed were he not so thoroughly aggravated by it. 

“isn’t it your job to cater to me? y’know, pamper me, give me some special treatment? seeing as how i’m your guest, of course.” hongbin presses, sweet as poison as he watches the man across from him with rapt attention. he tilts his head a bit, both a question and a taunt. “c’mon pretty boy... impress me a little.”

[ccjongin-blog]

i’m sorry, my brother

( @cctaemin ) 

battle is basic when you’re a hero. wounds, a norm. jongin knows this and if his memory from the first timeline stands for anything, he should know this better than anyone. today he’s teamed up with taemin and the both of them, quite honestly, make a pretty good pair. jongin relies on his strength instead of anything else; his best point.

and he thinks that they’ve got it this time, that they’ve finally defeated this beast. but he’s wrong. it fights back and this time he watches as taemin gets striked. he moves before he can think, there’s an alarm ringing in his head, fear colouring his eyes as he jumps to taemin’s side.

shit, he thinks, “fuck,” he breathes and he doesn’t waste any time. all he can see, all he remembers is the red adorning taemin, the blood against his lips. it’s never happened here, not now, but jongin sees it and his heart is thumping loud against his chest. quickly he grabs at taemin’s arm, practically carrying the boy before he’s running off, leaving the monster behind.

no, no, not again. he’s afraid, fear crawling up into his chest and there’s this pool of guilt that settles into his stomach. when they’re finally a good distance from the monster jongin releases taemin, pulling himself away from the boy. 

he’s shaking.

“taemin –– are you,” he turns to taemin, and his eyes are panicked. “are you alright?”

[ccminji-blog]

—*confidently lost.

@cctaemin wanted to soar!

sometimes, she dreams about taemin. she dreams about him in segments. almost as if she was watching an old movie where most clips came in a blur.

they were moments where he talked, his talking came in various sizes and forms. sometimes, his lips were split into the moon. the crescent one as he speaks to pleasure. sometimes, his lips were split into the sun. the radiant one as he speaks for distraction. they were moments where his lips were blurred, words coaxed to be undecipherable.

sometimes, he tastes like cherry. the sweet version of their platonic love. sometimes, he tastes like citrus. a bitter taste where arguments bubble in the air. sometimes, he tastes like sea salt. a lasting taste, an intangible one.

within those senses, it doesn’t take her long to realize how they are some many things she doesn’t know about her hero. to some degree, that scared her. 

because all those moments could be easily shattered with a mere word or touch.

the morning arrives, the same dream comes. it was about him, him having the smile that spilled arrogance. except, it was dimmed and held an unusual tinge. her arms rest in the counter of the kitchen, her fingers linger around the rim of the cup. a huff slips past her lips, before she hears the shuffling feet at the distance. her head perks up, her gaze drifts to where he stands. pulling herself out of the chair, her fingers wrapping themselves around the cup.

a lopsided grin forms, dimple following up. “hey,” she greets, airy tone colored with warmth. “for the first time, i did a cup of coffee to you. it’s to thank you about giving me a good dream.” the card muses, not letting her expression falter to the lie. “you trip on it, if you were curious.”

[cceunwoo-blog]

ღ oxeye daisy

@cctaemin

the bleeps of pacman and clangs of pinball bounced around in eunwoo’s eardrums. students were still clad in their uniforms — which needed a good ironing. a chain of teenage boys charged through, ramming into him. eunwoo wasn’t a klutz, but gravity wasn’t his friend either. his balance bailed on him, and he lurched backwards. the crunch of glass was heard beneath his elbow, chilling his blood with an awful realization. this couldn’t be good.

after sweeping a skittish look around, assuring there were no bystanders, he righted himself. next, he assessed the damage. fantastic. the machine’s screen was smashed in, splintering pieces framing the perimeter. eunwoo stared at the disaster in minor distress, and he no longer registered the roars of fanfare that danced around him. but he couldn’t just walk away. that would be beyond impolite and downright unethical. 

eunwoo didn’t even like arcades. he was here on a work-related mission. funnily, he was out of touch with today’s youth. he needed to make his trade more attractive to this target group. kids that don’t earn their own money are proficient at wasting it — not that eunwoo’s practice was a waste, but older folks were less romantic. teens were wearing a rose-tinted lens over each eye, and love was very real to them. it was a little unfair to profit from naivety, but he had to put food on the table, too.