WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT?

better you than me.

[ywsungjae-deactivated20200210]

apples to apples!

[ywdabin]

우성재.

however, he stops his cheeky attitude as soon as she mentions the scissors. so much for hoping things would go peaceful between the both of them. perhaps hoping for things not to go absolutely feral if it involved him and dabin was too far-fetched. “you are not getting that oily thing near my HAIR!” he shouts. “for your information, i WILL use the hair tie to tie my hair so if i see you with those pair of scissors that you probably stole from mrs. kim, you WILL be hearing from my lawyer.” 

AND here’s the thingㅡdabin’s always found it difficult to make friends. ( maybe it’s the way she turns her nose up at the mere THOUGHT of spending time with somebody her age for longer than five minutes, maybe it’s her volatile temper and the way she’s quick to snap. either way, it’s a hard knock life for her. ) but there’s something about woo sungjae, the baffling, irritating way he grins at her like he’s been waiting for her the whole night, the way he responds to her tact with even more tact instead of getting offended like everybody usually does: she doesn’t pinpoint the exact moment she had thought ‘i’m keeping him’, but she decides to anyways.

suddenly, she wishes the apple she had shoved in her jacket pocket was back in her hand and aimed at the other’s forehead. she scowls, a crease forming between her eyebrows as she pulls an expression of pure, unadulterated disgust. “i can’t stand you,” she says, though the inevitable softness in her tone betrays her words. dabin sets him with a deadpanned look, mouth pursed when she reaches up and tugs on the ends of his hair. ( she likes it, really, and finds herself with an emotion strangely similar to fondness whenever she catches sight of it tied up when they get dinner together. )

she tuts, teeth gritted when she reaches upwards and flick him on the forehead. “look at you, look at you using imperatives with your noonaㅡ“ she’s six months older, “ㅡand giving her orders so shamelessly . . . you’re lucky i’m in a good mood.” even at this, she finds it difficult to not smile and instead kisses her teeth, shaking her head. dabin pounces, looping her arm around sungjae’s the second she sees space and begins dragging him towards some faraway table. “c’mon, dumbass, unless you want to starve.”

[ywdabin]

sorry for the ugly post (i’m on mobile) but i would formally like to apologise for the terrible activity ... school has swamped me for the past week but for this one i’ll hopefully be getting to replies / starters / ims! thank u all for being patient and welcome to the new members too! <3

[quotesfromwhere]

“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!” Nothing beside remains: round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Percy Bysshe Shelley, Ozymandias  (via quotesfromwhere)

[ywdabin]

솔직하.

[ywdabin]

손대현. 

“i know i look ridiculous. you don’t have to lie.” he pulls up the pancho to reveal the ripe grape juice stain that was still glistening with liquid in the fabric underneath. “youngae spilt her juice on me. i can’t walk around like this. i look stupid.” (as if to say he didn’t look stupid in that moment.)

IT’S terrible, really, the way dabin. kwon fucking dabin, appears to be finely attuned to everything son daehyun despite choosing to believe that SHE’S the one that has him wrapped around her finger. ( does she really, though? or could it be the other way round? ) perhaps that’s why it’s so easy to spot him in the crowds full of people and she has trouble acting like there was any difficulty in finding him at all when she knows that she could easily spot him in an area more densely populated than this.

what’s even worse is the way he smiles at her, the dimples that sit deep in his cheek ㅡ dabin had rolled her eyes once, pressing her thumb into one of the dimples that had appeared and calling them cute only to watch him splutter on his tea like a moron ㅡ and the pretty expression that his face morphs into. it’s that same unreadable expression, something filled with too much adoration and gentle behaviour to the point where it forces her to swallow the lump in her throat and act like she hasn’t seen it whenever he sees her.

the coat isn’t too bad if she’s being honest ㅡ a bright contrast against the black and white of the rest of his outfit but she supposes that there was never anything wrong with a splash of colour, despite the way she KNOWS haeil would disagree at the mere sight of daehyun’s outfit. and although she grows realise there could be worse outfits, it’s still enough to elicit a grin in her, though she has to suck her teeth to make sure she doesn’t laugh. dabin isn’t a genius but she’s smart enough to pinpoint that laughing at daehyun would probably make things worse. not by a huge margin, but still worse. it definitely wouldn’t make it better.

“you don’t look ridiculous,” she clicks her tongue, shaking her head and watching him as he tugs the aforementioned item of clothing around himself tighter. there’s a part of dabin that’s mildly glad she had gone into acting as a profession ㅡ lying had suddenly become too easy for her, like a habit she couldn’t shake . “it’s just different, y’know. photographers and artists always wear unique clothes.” dabin blinks. “uh ㅡ haven’t you seen g-dragon?”

her eyes are drawn to the shining juice stain on his white shirt, ( she doesn’t want to go to hell, she REALLY doesn’t want to go to hell ) and NOW she can’t help the peal of shocked laughter that escapes her. granted, it’s cut short by the way she claps a hand over her mouth but it’s still out somehow and she can’t help but feel a twinge of pity for the man. “shit ㅡ she really spilled a whole fucking cup, huh.” dabin bites her tongue, glancing up to his embarrassed expression. at this she softens, scoffing, leaning forwards to smooth out daehyun’s fringe ㅡ only to ruffle his hair. “stop sulking, you don’t look stupid and it doesn’t look as bad as you think.”

she pulls away from daehyun, wrapping the item around him and covering the cursed stain. “it could be worse, y’know.” a beat passes. “youngae could’ve dropped a knife on you.”

[ywdabin]

백해일.

[ ... ]

haeil’s lips pulled up into a shy grin and he waited for her next move, curious if she wanted to order anything or just wanted to stop by- or had anything to say. 

THERE’S something curious in the way dabin decides to visit baek’s tailoring goods after wondering whether it would be odd if she visited, standing out against the pretty backdrop of the store far too much. it’s been at the back of her mind for weeks now, ever since haeil had perked up at the bar, words slightly slurred with features of tipsiness ( READ: slow words and cheeks so pink dabin had to resist against leaning across to pinch them ) as he talked about his shop. she’s heard about it before, whether it’s at her work or by passing from the residents of yangwon and, despite her reluctance to admit her interest ㅡ as usual with ANYTHING ㅡ it’s not long before she finds herself pushing the door open.

it’s pretty. she hadn’t really known what she had been expecting, despite having seen the clean way the boy had dressed before, the designs she would glance at secretly when the pages of his notebook fell open at the bar. but it’s a sort of pastel elegance dabin can’t IMAGINE ever being able to portray in her art, not when hers are all rough and messy, art splattered across a canvas and background of blacks and greys.

her mouth quirks up into a polite smile to match the shy on on haeil’s and suddenly, she finds herself more placid than she had expected to be. dabin absentmindedly moves to another corner of the store, the roll of fabric between her index finger and thumb.

“it’s prettier than people say, y’know,” she pauses, glancing back at haeil, “your store, i mean. you’re insanely talented.”

[ywsoojung-deactivated20200110]

tipsy.

[ywdabin]

박수정. 

[ ... ] 

his certainly wasn’t the best first actual interaction outside the bar. she lets out a long sigh, trying to avoid looking at the woman’s face – she didn’t want to know how angry dabin was. “ i have the perfect way to get red wine out of clothes, if it’s any consolation. ” she says, finally sparing a glance at the woman’s face. “ had too many nights i’d done the same to myself … not that it’s helpful right this moment … ” she says, frowning. “ i don’t live far, if you’d like i could get you something to wear instead ? don’t even have to return it – i have too many clothes anyway. ” she offers, at this point just running her mouth. she drew in a breath and glanced up to dabin’s face. “ i’m so sorry … ”

TO be fair, dabin had expected it to happen ㅡ when she had first set eyes on the impressive arrangement of wine bottles nestled into a corner, she had found her mouth pressed into a thin line, taking a sip of her own drink with the SOLE thought of ‘shiiiiiiiiit, someone’s gonna get that.’ it makes sense to have an assortment of alcohol at the feast, to be fair. what she hadn’t been expecting, however, is to meet one of her regulars at the bar holding a glass of red wine. her eyes are focused on the glass, mouth parted in greeting and a smile when the liquid tips over the glass just a little and then ㅡ suddenly dabin’s pretty, white ruffled top has a dash of unplanned red on it. ( givenchy is turning in his grave. )

what the fuck, dabin thinks, what the actual fuck. her face doesn’t show any hints of the irritation that she feels blooming in her chest and moving to her head and she subconsciously finds herself biting her tongue, blinking foolishly. she sets her glass on the table, mouth moulded into a smile that seems just a little too forced. “soojung-ssi, it’s fine, it was an ㅡ accident.” it almost pains her to say so, and if the way she inhales sharply is visible, it’s not mentioned by either of them. “haha. it ㅡ happens all the time, y’know ㅡ ” a hand reaches up to take the napkins, pressing them against her top. “can we go over to your place?”

[heartbeathaeun-deactivated20230]

✘ prettier in the moonlight

[ywdabin]

손대현.

[ ... ]

“thanks for doing this for me. it’s hard for me to get to the city and do shoots so i have to try to make yangwon look more urban with fancy angles and props.”

HERE are the facts: dabin can’t pinpoint exactly when their arrangement started. it’s somewhere between the late nights ( or early mornings. she’s not sure what 2am counts as. ) of weekdays when daehyun turns up to the bar, face slightly red  from the heat of the place ㅡ at least that’s what he CLAIMS, but dabin chooses to ignore how he always seems to flush a little when she slides his drink over with a grin ㅡ and she fights the urge to pinch his cheek.

there’s something special about him. she’d known ever since he first stumbled into the bar and stuttered ‘do you guys sell drinks?’ it only takes a brief moment but she throws her head back and laughs, the first time that night, and the rest is history.

she’s clad in what she deems as ‘street fashion’, as if she hadn’t been rustling through her wardrobe hurriedly the night before, wanting to impress daehyun. her halter neck crop top and baggy jeans probably AREN’T the best suited for the weather ㅡ despite the puffer coat she’s thrown over herself as an attempt to fight the cold and she ignores the way pink scatters across her face when he compliments her.

“you’re dumb.” is what comes out of her mouth instead, a grin twitching on her lips as she locks her phone, slipping it into the pocket of her jeans. she tilts her head, as though she’s examining him. “actually ㅡ you’re not looking too bad yourself.” ( he never does. )

she waves a hand. “don’t worry about it.” dabin hums under her breath, slipping her jacket off as she sets it aside. goosebumps rise on her skin and she turns back to daehyun, an eyebrow arched. “you’re talented, with or without props.”

[ywdabin]

merry go round.

( merry go round, w/ @ywsejun. )

IT’S plausible to say that dabin finds herself growing attached to those that are perhaps the complete opposites of her: and sejun doesn’t seem to be any different. they find something odd between the mornings when she catches sight of him on gukhwa street ( in front of her as usual, with one stride longer than two of hers ) and she has to speed up her pace comically fast to catch up. there’s something vaguely ironic in the way she gives so much advice about school for someone who struggles to long divide and do basic maths but that doesn’t stop her from hissing an ominous ‘if you don’t graduate, i’m not going to let you live it down’ whenever they part ways.

she stands in the corner, a curious gaze fluttering from one side of the room to another. it’s always been odd to watch the village like this: so at peace with each other, kind ㅡ nothing like the BUSTLING life of seoul where it was kill or be killed. her lips quirk at that and it’s a brief sort of satisfaction she finds from being in a community. except, from her peripheral vision, she sees a familiar figure in front of the alcohol bottles and she can’t help but frown. a step, two, three, before ㅡ “hong sejun,” she murmurs kindly, sweet in her tone but dangerous everywhere else, “what are you looking at?”

[ywdabin]

umpah umpah.

( umpah umpah, w/ @ywyoungae. )

PERSONALLY, dabin likes to call the yearly feast of the winter star a time where she can sit back and placidly watch who in the village will provide her meals for the rest of that evening. ( she isn’t a bad cook ㅡ she swears she isn’t, but some of the dishes she’s seen is a far cry from her kimchi bibimbap that’s made with a recipe and a handful of spices thrown in for luck. mostly. and she’s really not that lucky. ) and maybe her questionable ability as a chef is what allows her curiosity to be piqued almost immediately when she sees the cheesecake sitting on the table, her twinge of jealousy patted down by her innate ability to appreciate what’s pretty.

half of her wonders whether she’d be forgiven for taking the entire thing home and eating it by herself in front of her television ㅡ the other, thankfully rational half, tells herself that it probably wouldn’t leave the best impression on whoever was watching her. ( mrs. lee from number 401 was fixing her with a disappointed look, like she was already reading dabin’s mind. ) so it’s with a dramatic sigh that she turns to the person next to her, murmuring low. “d’you think it’d be socially acceptable for me to wait until nobody’s looking, then borrow that cheesecake?”

[wennist]

190628

[ywsungjae-deactivated20200210]

apples to apples!

[ywdabin]

우성재.

[ ... ]

“thank god you’re here. i did not want to look like a loner at this party,” he says with a relieved smile. he hands her an apple while keeping the other one to himself. “did you eat yet? i just got here, so this is the first thing i’m having here.” before he continues, he pulls the sleeve of his shirt up to show a black hair-tie on his wrist. “i even brought this so you don’t have to bother me about getting my hair into my food!” he smiles cheekily, hoping she understood him and also that she wasn’t going to surprisingly pull up a pair of scissors at this potluck.

IT still baffles dabin that she’s somehow friends with sungjae after putting up with his nonsense for two years ( TO BE FAIR: he puts up with hers too. it’s kinda like a gambling thing. except dabin thinks she’s losing. ) and yet when she sees the familiar grin on his face as he makes his way towards her, a hand holding out an apple, she unconsciously finds the own corners of her mouth being turned up in an equally relieved smile. shit. maybe she does kinda love him, despite what she always texts him at two in the morning when he asks her if she would take care of keunsae. spoiler alert: she does.

“yeah, i don’t really wanna hang out with you tonight.” it’s with a teasing lilt to a voice that she answers, the apple in her grasp as she wonders whether she should throw it against someone’s head and pin the crime on sungjae. ( she decides against it. ) from the corner of her eye, she can see the neighbourhood aunties whispering and gets a horrific flashback to the time she had tackled him in the streets only to hear someone call out, ‘are you two newlyweds?’ "i’m telling you, the more we talk, the more they think we’re married.”

except the grin on her face drops when he pulls up his sleeve and she leans in closer to squint at the offending item. “isㅡ is that my fucking hair tie that went missing at yours last week?” dabin positively HISSES, and suddenly she wonders whether an apple can be used as a weapon. “you bastard, you always bring hair ties, forget to tie up your hair, and then complain. you’re in luck though ㅡ i hear mrs. kim from 402 brought scissors to cut up her japchae . . . you don’t mind getting some in your hair, right?”

[ywdabin]

솔직히.

( honestly, w/ @ywdaehyun . )

the scary thing about son daehyun is that he fits into the cracks of dabin’s life far too easily, more easily than he should be able to. even scarier is the way he does it without a care in the world, as if it’s simple, as if people hadn’t spent years trying to understand her the way he had. he slips into the crevices and niches she thought she had closed off the second she stepped out of seoul, whatever remnants of an impassive mind BARRICADED off by the walls she had spent years building. it stuns her that all he did was smile, hold the camera between his hands, speak in that soft, shy tone of his and suddenly, he moulds into whatever she’s been missing. no, no, it doesn’t stun her, it SCARES her, leaves her feeling vulnerable and exposed. but time and time again, she ㅡ

“ya, son daehyun!” her voice cuts through the hubbub of the crowd, of peals of laughter and shrill voices, cheeks flushed pink from the warmth of the bodies. she grins when she catches sight of him, reaching out and her fingers close around his wrist as she tugs him closer to peer at his face. “i was looking for you for so lon ㅡ ” it’s only then her eyes flicker over to what he’s wearing and her words are stopped short. ( dabin don’t laugh, dabin don’t laugh, dabin don’t laugh. ) she blinks, lips pursed as she sucks in. “are you trying something new?” a beat passes. “you ㅡ uh ㅡ you look cute.”

[ywdabin]

왕자.

( 왕자, w/ @hansolxyw. )

THERE’S a certain level of patience that dabin thinks she has ㅡ prides herself on, really, it had taken far too long for her parents to persuade her to keep her thoughts to herself ㅡ and yet all that seems to be thrown out of the window whenever she’s in a ten metre radius of a certain park hansol. ( what is it about him? is it the dimples that sit prettily on his face when he smiles at dabin and asks how her day went, is it the way the grandmas in the markets gush about him, is it the way she can’t find anything wrong about him? ) either way, it leaves her with a bad taste in her mouth, one only intensified by the alcohol in her system.

she’s tipsy ㅡ just MILDLY, nothing too serious, but strong enough that she finds her way towards the aforementioned criminal. “ya, park hansol.” honorifics are thrown out of the window with this one, but dabin supposes their relationship ( what, built on passing conversations? ) has gone past that. she crinkles her nose, red nails tapping against her waist as she scrutinises the boy in front of her. “there’s ㅡ there’s something off about you, like ㅡ ” she pauses, not quite sure what to say from there on, “i don’t think you’re as perfect as everyone thinks you are. you can’t be, that’s fuckin’ impossible.” she blinks, and leans closer, voice a whisper. “are you secretly married?”

[ywdabin]

dress to impress.

( dress to impress, w/ @ywhaeil. )

"IT’S not fair that you always look good, y’know.” it’s with a teasing sort of resentment that dabin pokes fun at haeil, fingers tapping on the windowsill behind them, head tilted slightly as she peers over the younger’s outfit. she supposes looking permanently pretty ㅡ whether that’s mainly due to the boy himself or due to the plethora of clothes he appears to have in his closet ㅡ is a sort of natural talent in itself. she wouldn’t tell him though: dabin supposes that between their sessions together, there’s only so many more compliments she can throw before he’ll get bigheaded. ( read: she doubts he’ll ever reach that stage; he’s just too nice. )

even so she grins widely, peering over the groups of people huddled together, conversations alive in the chilly air and she’s met with a sort of atmosphere she hadn’t thought she’d be able to feel ever since leaving seoul ㅡ no, one she hadn’t felt in seoul, either. dabin hums under her breath, her free hand clutched around a mug of hot chocolate when she turns her gaze back on the other. “so what d’you think about the festival so far? it’s a lot ㅡ calmer than i thought it was going to be. i like it.”

[ywdabin]

flower child.

( flower child, w/ @ywxjangmi. )

ABHORRENT as the idea of making conversation is, when dabin finds herself holding a pot of bibimbap and nobody to give it to except the wooden table that stands in front of her, she decides that desperate situations call for desperate measures. ( even more so desperate is the dawning realisation that standing there, looking as though she’d rather be anywhere but there ㅡ even if that was the truth ㅡ probably isn’t the best way to try and get to know other people. so it’s with a newfound sort of determination that she tugs down the hem of her top, straightens her back and enters the crowd.

“shit.” the word escapes her mouth before she even intends for it to and she throws a quick glance at the girl next to her, vaguely familiar from the thin past conversations. if dabin focuses enough, she could probably remember a name. “there’s more people than i thought there would be.” almost immediately, she cusses her own lack of communication skills, blinking. ( kwon dabin, how many people did you think actually lived in yangwon? ) another beat passes, and she fixes the girl with a look. “so is this ㅡ like a yearly thing, or?”

[ywdabin]

소나기.

[ywdabin]

채소민.

[ ... ]

“oh, you know it,” somin responds with a peppiness that’s unusual for her, and a smile that’s fake enough to suggest that might really be her plan. but in a heartbeat, the smile’s gone, replaced by something sadder, less forced. she’s quiet for a few seconds, trying to gather her words, and when she speaks again, she seems to be refusing to make eye contact. “i’m here to apologize, actually. i miss you, dabin,” she pauses again, but this time, it’s to reign in her emotions. “i miss you a lot. you were my best friend – no, you are my best friend, even if you don’t want to be. i just love you too much to let this silence swallow us whole, y’know? and… you didn’t seem to be planning to apologize, so i figured i’d be the bigger person. do you a favor.”

THEY could’ve been something special ㅡ and maybe that’s what twists the ugliness inside dabin whenever she sets eyes on her. there hadn’t been many opportunities for friendships upon the first step into yangwon; an outsider to not only the village but even to herself, nights where she’d spend alone wondering whether it would be the right decision or not to go back to seoul. somewhere in between these insecurities, found in the crevices of her doubt, she had ran into somin in all her sharp tongued, no-nonsense glory and THUS: something she desperately wanted had been found.

and yet the remnants of their friendship lie in front of them, tattered and in pieces with faint trails  of dried acrylic paint and cutthroat words smudged over them. there’s something about it that forces dabin to try and swallow the lump in her throat that she hadn’t even realised had been there.  ( it’s your fault, it’s my fault, it’s nobody’s fault: choi somin, shouldn’t we have tried to talk it out at least once before it all came to a head? )

her eyebrows furrow upon hearing the brightness of the other’s words, too contrasted against the dim interior of the bar and even more so against the personality of the somin she knows. half of her wants to roll her eyes at this somewhat futile attempt of rekindling something ㅡ a fire burned out, a finished candle ㅡ and yet the other half, the one that wants what they had BACK, although her pride won’t let her, waits for somin to finish.

that had been her first mistake.

dabin had never really been good with apologies, whether it’s on the giving or receiving end, and she’s certain her expression makes it clear.

with each word her eyes narrow, grip on the glass in her hand tightening to an alarming pressure ( would it shatter, she wonders, if i clutched it so hard? ) before she lets out a laugh. it’s fed up, irritable, DISAGREEABLE ㅡ the kwon dabin she hates. “choi somin, what type of fucking apology was that?” she grits her teeth, mouth stretching out into a false pretence of a smile. “hah, you ㅡ 'i love you, you didn’t seem to be planning to apologise, i’ll be the bigger person, do you a favour’ ㅡ do me a fucking favour? me? you must be out of your fucking mind.” a beat passes. “you stopped being the better person the second it all happened and you pretended like it didn’t.”

the clock ticks behind them.

[ywdabin]

hi lovelies :^) just wanted to thank u all for bein so patient with me in terms of answering dms and getting to threads! in other news, dabin is attending the feast of the winter star (& the potluck!) so if any of you would like a short starter for the event, pls like this post or reply with a word and i’ll get one up asap! update, it's been capped at 10! i'll write up everybody's starters when i can.