#t:para

[punkcrew-blog]

Sam's walking behind the flock with his phone pressed against his ear and his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He see's the others talking among themselves as they walk, being far enough to hear their voices but unable to distinguish what they're saying. He's on the phone with a friend from class, vaguely understanding what she's saying into the receiver while being too busy paying attention to the backs of his maybe teammates. Not that he's checking anyone out, not Jimin and especially not Sechan, but he does admit they both look nice from back here. 

"Okay, yeah, I'll email you the PDF if I have time this weekend and if not then on Sunday night." He says, focusing back on the call. His friend agrees and thanks him, and after a mumbled goodbye Sam hangs up the phone, glad to be done listening to an annoyingly controlling classmate and pocketing his phone as he jogs up besides Jimin.

"And he didn't notice even after he went to the bathroom, where there was a huge mirror." Jimin's telling a story as a few others listen along, and Sam smiles as he reaches to link their arms while the boy is laughing at the memory. "That sounded like a fun story, tell it to me later?" Sam asks in a light tone, looking at him with the same friendly grin. Jimin looks at him like he's surprised he wants to listen to the whole story, and doesn't seem fazed at all that their arms are linked. "Of course!" He nods just as they're walking up to the front yard of the house Sechan's aunt let them borrow for the weekend, unaware that they’re already there. "You should room with me and Jaime!" He adds and Sam's smile widens at how excited he seems. 

“Yeah, sure.” He nods, secretly wishing he could room with both Jimin and Sechan. Not that he doesn’t like Jaime, he seems fine, but he’s just not his type. Okay, well, Sam should probably remind himself that he’s not here to find people to make out with, so he definitely shouldn’t be thinking of flirting even though that’s what he’s doing right now. He’s kind of been flirting the whole time, though, right from the get go with Sechan and his smile and the stolen glances and Jimin and the constant touching. 

[punkcrew-blog]

Nate keeps his fingers tucked under Sechan’s chin, staying quiet and watching a tear slip down his cheek. His expression doesn’t change or soften, and even though somewhere inside he cares that he’s crying and wishes he wouldn’t, that part doesn’t come out and instead he’s left with how he knows how to care about people. “Open your fucking eyes,” He says, tone quieter and with a slight biting tone. “You think i’d be nice to you if you had some fucking invisible force field around you that drives people to treat you like shit when they’re close enough?” He asks, more rhetorically than not. “No, right? You just meet assholes, that’s it.” 

He sighs then, dropping his hand before passing it through his hair. He can’t blame Sechan for thinking the way he does, Nate knows all of the crap he goes through with every single potential romantic interest he meets or not, in the end they’re all shit. He wants Sechan to believe him, though, and he can’t help but let it anger him that this is at what point his friend has gotten. “I can’t believe I have to tell you this,” Nate starts slowly, to make sure Sechan hears him out. “but how people treat you doesn’t define who you are or your worth. This is like fucking, basic Plato or Pluto or whatever.”

[punkcrew-blog]

"You can't use your powers in the hall!" Tequila is halfway through a wall when she turns back at the monitor, raising her middle finger at the annoying kid who's definitely gonna write her up later.  As all of her 'fuck it' moments go though, she might as well. "Fuck off you snitch!" She yells behind her right before passing into the hallway on the other side of the wall, scaring a kid into tearing off the metal door of his locker when she pops up in front of him. "Oops, sorry!" She smiles, walking through him and throwing him into even more confusion as she solidifies herself behind him. 

She knows she's cranky when she hasn't gotten any sleep, so she decided to nap in her dorm until it was time for the whole tour thing to start. She should've probably remembered to set an alarm, though. It's not her fault she also happens to be terrible with punctuality, 'happens' because the universe continuously puts things in her path that make her always be late. Like right now.

     "Okay, okay, I'm here!" She rushes in, nearly bumping right into Jw. "I know we said to meet like, an hour ago, for the assembly and all... but some things came up." She breathes out, flipping her hair away from her face and breathless from all of the running around. "Thanks for taking care of the whole, group arrangement thing." She smiles, pretending to bump Jw's shoulder with her knuckle. "Just so you know I had to run all the way here from the dorms so I got what I deserved." She nods, like that was enough to convince her fellow tour guide not to be pissed at her. "I'll buy ya lunch later?" She smiles innocently, feigning to bump his shoulder again.

[punkcrew-blog]

Even though the hybrid is saying all of those nice sounding things to calm him down, Jimin can’t help but still feel terrible at the situation. No one has even shown him kindness for stealing before. Hell, people will kick him out of their stores simply for being inside. He knows he can’t blame them, he looks homeless, he is homeless, and he’s got no job or any source of income. How things are right now, people can’t help but be cynical and judgmental. That’s how you protect yourself, he gets it more than anyone, but it still hurts. It’s not his fault his parents left him at a poor orphanage. It’s not his fault no one ever adopted him and it’s not his fault that he aged and had to be kicked out. 

Everything leading up to his present situation is just a series of unfortunate events, and it’s not fair. Jimin is a good person. He’d never think of stealing if he wasn’t starving everyday. He doesn’t understand why on earth he was born if this was going to be his life, just being a burden to everyone. To his parents, to the nuns at the orphanage, to the people he steals from. To this perfectly nice hybrid... employee. 

He wordlessly walks to where the other led him on wobbly legs, still feeling the fall on his body and the extreme discomfort on his cheek. He stops to look up the stairway when he’s standing in front of it, taking a shaky breath. “Y-yeah.” He mumbles as he props his hand on the wall, stepping up the first stair and holding himself still. He’s usually in some state of malnutrition and dehydration, but right now he especially feels it. He feels light-headed and shaky, and going up the stairs feels like a particularly difficult task. 

[asyhana]

🛀 Tigerlily

🛀 YOUR MUSE RUNNING A BUBBLE BATH FOR MINE

Inhabititing their own small body, Tigerlily bounce at the side of the tub, hands on the rum as they watched the water fill it up, reaching out one of their hands to play with the water running from the faucet. “Bath time~ Bath time~ Bath time~”

[cvtaemin-blog]

evergreen.

@cvbora

Taemin was sprawled out in the middle of a field on the outskirts of the woods, close enough so that he could spy through the gaps of the tress, but not enough so that he couldn't hear the chirp of the birds around him, the rustle of noise that the long grass he was amidst made when the wind rushed past. There were wildflowers scattered around him, bunched between the weeds and struggling for sunlight, the air still hanging hot above him, not yet chased off by fall's nearly looming presence. He sort of wished it was, though he'd probably wish for it to be warm again when the bit of winter eventually crawled in to greet him. 

Bora was next to him, his own eyes closed as he listened to her talk about this or that. It was usually how their time was spent together. There weren't a lot of people who were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, who were willing to hear him work his way slowly through his thoughts, his side of things without judgment. He liked that about her, liked that everything seemed soothing when they were together, removed from the turmoil of the school to sunbathe or talk. A brief silence sank between them, and it prompted a yawn from Taemin that he belatedly remembered to cover with the back of his hand. 

"You should make me a flower crown, I think I'd look charming." he mused out, a smile quirking into place, eyes cracking open and his head lolling to the side to glance her way as he said it, unsure of whether she would poke fun at him about it or not. "What's been up with you though, anything fun? Dramatic? Third, undefined option?" he asked her, rolled onto his side with a groan, tucked his face into the crook of his elbow and waited for an answer.

[fntaemin-blog]

strange love

@fnchanyeol

It was too late to be up on a Wednesday, at least for most. Taemin's hair was mused, a bored glaze to his eyes and a fresh burn on his wrist from an incident at work that involved hot coffee and a lack of attention. He kept compulsively pressing his thumb against the raw skin as he walked, an absentminded drag of a motion that had irritation bubbling up and twisting into pain. Taemin liked the night though, liked getting off of his shift to streets that were bordering on empty if he took the back alleys, liked the hum of neon lights and the way they flickered to life, advertising bars and booze and everything in between. He had a headphone jammed into his ear, the other dangling haphazardly from the cord near his thigh, the faint beat of an EDM track audible if you stood close enough to him – phone clutched against his palm with a playlist on loop. 

The walk from the diner to Lemnos wasn't too bad, and Taemin generally used the time to unwind. He was halfway through with a cigarette, left it balanced loose between his lips and his time split between remembering to flick the building ash from the end of it and scrolling through his phone. He was distracted by typing his way  one-handedly through a rambling text and exhaling out the buildup of smoke that was accumulating in his lungs, so much so that he didn't really notice that Chanyeol was hanging out on the steps in front of their building until he was right in front of him. In all fairness, the steps were a decent place to take a smoke break – it was easy to let claustrophobia overwhelm you when you lived in one of the cramped studios. But then, Taemin also didn't want anything to do with Chanyeol a good seventy percent of the time. 

It had been a complicated sort of relationship that morphed into a terrible breakup when Taemin had decided he'd had enough of Chanyeol, that he'd had enough of them. But Taemin was a little twisted, selfish and desperate for attention and so when Chanyeol seemed so adamant about trying to rekindle, possessive words and angry eyes – well, he found an odd sort of joy in it all. A sick combination of pride, narcissism, and power that he'd never seemed to be able to have over Chanyeol when they’d been dating, when he was so easily forthcoming about everything, when there were no warped secrets to pick free from the possessions scattered around his apartment. It had been half the reason Taemin had gotten sick of it all, he hated feeling powerless. 

Even now things between them were strange (though Taemin was often strange in general), a perplexing mix of Taemin flaring angry and argumentative when Chanyeol tried to talk to him on the floor of their apartments, of shouldering past him and pretending he didn't exist when he ran into him getting the mail. But then there were other times, tiny baits of moments like he was hinting that maybe there was a possibility of more for the sole purpose that Chanyeol wouldn't move past him completely, even if he had no intention of doing so. Taemin seemed to be gauging which mood he was going to slip into as he paused in front of him, had been planning on finishing his smoke before he went inside anyway and it had him shifting his weight on his heels, swayed to the side and let his hip rest against the metal rung of the railing. "What the hell are you doing out here?" he asked him before he took another drag, "it's like, what, two?" Taemin guessed at the time, glanced briefly down at his phone and then back up at the other.

[fntaemin-blog]

i want it all

@fnjongin

It was edging a little past one in the morning and the diner was nearly barren – this was probably due to the fact that it was the middle of the week and there were only a select number of people that were willing to get smashed and wander in for a hangover cure when there was work in the morning. Taemin didn't really mind the late night shifts though, the erratic stream of customers, the periods of silence and banter he traded with the cook when there was nobody there to serve. He was busy thumbing his way through an old paperback a customer had left behind earlier, hip balanced on the counter near the register as he waited for a girl to fish her credit card out of her purse so she could pay him (a difficult task while on her phone, apparently). He dog-eared the page he was on when she finally handed it over, slid it through the machine and waited for her to leave before he wandered over to his lone customer. 

Jongin was a regular though, and at this point their relationship edged far past a customer service smile (not that Taemin had many of those to give out in the first place, really). Taemin slid into place next to him, lithe limbs and an easy smile slipping into place as he reached out to pluck the cigarette perched between Jongin's lips to steal it for himself – at least momentarily. "Hey you, anything fun?" Taemin wondered aloud, head falling briefly to settle on the other's shoulder as he inhaled in deep, smoke curling into his lungs and nicotine through his veins. While employees were allowed smoke breaks, they were meant to be out in the side alley, but Taemin figured that borrowing from the customers counted as a loophole. "I'm so bored. So, so bored. You need to save me, or slip me your flask." he half-teased out, the words murmured low into the other's ear, smoke scattering between them briefly before he rolled his head back to exhale out toward the ceiling, an imitation cloud that hung briefly above them. 

Jongin was an interesting character, he caught Taemin's interest and held it – something that wasn't necessarily uncommon, but for the moment his interest was wrapped up in him. In the sleepy way he blinked and tried to fight it back with cups and cups of coffee, his perpetually mused hair and the lines of poetry he scrawled across his notebook, or napkins if he forgot them. There seemed to be an overflow of ideas that were constantly pouring out of him, and Taemin wanted to drink him in, wanted to consume him. Wanted to wind him up like a music box and leave him dancing in dizzying, violent circles until Taemin had his fill of it. Of him. He took another quick drag of the cigarette before he handed it back to him, grabbed at his mug to steal a sip of his coffee next (despite the fact that he worked there, could get one for free if he really wanted to).