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ㅤ﹙ 𝒃. ﹚ own. ── val , she / her , +20 , esp. & engl.
semi-selective multimuse indie. mutuals & non-mutuals welcome . dark and triggering topics can occur on this blog , please read the rules before interacting .
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LEE KNOW — dominATE london (©minggijuc)
sana » moonlight sunrise in turin
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˙ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆｡˚꩜ Theo wasn’t even mad about the comment, looking at jaekyung. ❛ I’ll drink that matcha if you don’t want too, and of course we can come again even if you don’t get a matcha. ❜ He laughed, Theo loved Jaekyung even if he was brutally honest. Getting up with his bag and walking to the counter to tip the barista for them. The service in the cafe was always great & he hoped that Jaekyung understood that he wasn’t mad about the fact that Theo tipped for them — since the man had paid the bill for them.
❝ okay , but i'm not gonna kiss you after that. i don't like kisses that taste like grass. ❞ the joke leaves jaekyung's lips accompanied by an exaggerated nose scrunch , an expression of displeasure so unconvincing that it's betrayed by the playful curve of his smile.
by the time theo returns , jaekyung has already gathered his belongings. his phone disappears into his pocket , his glasses are tucked away. the scarf hangs loosely around his neck until they finally step outside and the autumn air greets them with cold fingers.
leaves , rust-colored and gold , skitter across the sidewalk , dancing wherever the breeze decides to take them. jaekyung doesn't hesitate before reaching for his scarf. his hands move automatically , wrapping the fabric around theo's neck once , then twice , tucking it closer against his skin. ❝ should we go for a walk in the park? ❞ his fingers find theo's hand a second later , intertwining their fingers before beginning to walk without any real destination in mind. ❝ my fight's in a couple of hours , so we still have time. ❞ then he tugs gently on their joined hands , enough to bring theo closer until their shoulders brush. jaekyung turns his head and presses a kiss against his cheek. the truth is , he always liked spending time with theo before a fight. he'd never considered himself superstitious. and yet , there was something about theo. the hours before a fight usually felt restless but theo had always been good at quieting those things. ❝ or we can just go home if you're cold , mm? ❞
˙ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆｡˚꩜. Marco laughed at how cute his boyfriend was being — gaze on Minho’s sweet face. ❛ I’m not everyone else, I love giving my boyfriend a surprise. ❜ He replied playfully — hands still around his boyfriend’s waist as Marco locks eyes with Minho. Knowing the other was still cranky from what happened was th best part. Marco let out a dramatic whine when Minho punched him — part of the game they played and his hands went up defensively. ❛ You just love to punch me, huh! that hurt my arm. ❜ Tone coming out extra dramatic — however the smirk on his face gave his act away ; Marco had a hard time teasing Minho without somehow ruining his act. Standing up and taking his hand to be helped up his boyfriend. Delicately handling him. ❛ Now I guess I did, that’s true. But you still need to bandage me up, my sweet little nurse. ❜ Teasing tone. Ruffling Minho’s hair , messing it up on purpose before he gave an innocent look and wiped some of the blood off his own cheek gently.
Marco knew Minho didn’t want to leave his arms but he also knew that th blood running down his face was agitating Minho. ❛ Yes baby, I’m coming. ❜ He replied softly, walking beside Minho. Hand delicately rubbing his back as they walked. A small laugh leaving him when he heard what his boyfriend said about already putting his jacket in his bag before he left to go back to his apartment. ❛ You really put it back in my bag? And I didn’t notice. ❜
❝ mhm. i did. ❞ minho reaches past him to flick on the bathroom light. the room is immediately flooded with harsh white brightness. ❝ sit down. ❞ he says , pointing toward the toilet before turning his attention to the drawers. he searches through half-empty containers and forgotten supplies , hoping to find something useful. in the end , he manages to gather up a few sterile gauze pads , iodine , and saline solution.
minho never claimed to be good at patching people up. if anything , he had considerably more experience being the reason somebody needed first aid in the first place. still , he wasn't completely hopeless. his sister was a nurse , and he'd spent enough years lingering around her while she studied , practiced , and complained about patients to absorb a thing or two through sheer exposure.
when he finally turns around , the sight that greets him makes something uncomfortable shift beneath his ribs because under the bathroom light , marco looks worse.
the bruising is already beginning to settle beneath his skin. every mark feels impossibly vivid now that minho is looking at it without adrenaline clouding his judgment. ❝ shit . . . ❞ the word slips out before he can stop it. his hand finds marco's chin automatically , tilting his head slightly to get a better look. ❝ i really went too far. ❞
at the same time , pain shoots through his own hand. minho grimaces immediately. his knuckles ache , swollen and raw from repeated impact. the skin across them is split in places. if his hands hurt this much , he doesn't even want to think about how marco's face feels. ❝ i kicked your ass. ❞ a crooked grin appears and minho laughs softly. ❝ my dad would've been proud. ❞ his father used to say ridiculous things all the time. minho , a real man can throw a punch. a real man knmows how to win a fight. minho remembers hearing those words as a kid and believing them. now they just sound absurd. he shakes the thought away and reaches for one of the gauze pads , soaking it with iodine until the white material turns amber. ❝ sorry if it stings , ❞ carefully , he brings the gauze to marco's face and his fingers settle against his jaw , steadying him while he cleans away dried blood with slow movements. the injury near his eyebrow comes into focus first. it looks bad , not deep enough for stitches , probably , but deep enough to leave a mark if it heals badly. ❝ babe , you've got a cut on your eyebrow , ❞ minho murmurs , leaning a little closer to inspect it. ❝ you won't hate me forever if it leaves some ugly scar , right? ❞
“ Say it. Say you never loved me so I can finally stop hoping. ” // hey so, def Isy to minjun and maybe it's a voicemail, maybe not
it's truly pathetic. every time his phone vibrates , every time the screen lights up in the darkness , his heart lunges first. not his thoughts , not logic. HIS HEART. he searches for the device , fingers already reaching before his mind has even caught up , because somewhere along the way , he taught himself to recognize iseul's presence without needing proof. the special ringtone doesn't help. if anything , it makes it worse and still he waits for his messages. that is perhaps the most humiliating part of all because minjun was the one who stood in the middle of something beautiful and decided to become its ending.
not even three months have passed and he still waits for messages he never answers. he knows what he should do ⸺ delete the contact , block the number. remove every trace of himself from iseul's life and finally allow the wound to scab over instead of reopening it every few days , even daehyun has told him enough times ⸺ daehyun , who can barely hide his disappointment whenever the subject comes up , whose gaze feels like standing beneath sunlight when you're carrying something rotten inside your chest. minjun can't look at him for very long anymore ; guilt multiplies in his chest whenever he tries.
when he finally presses play , iseul's voice hits him with enough force to knock the air from his lungs. it isn't fair that something as simple as a voice can still do this to him. it makes him feel selfishly happy. after weeks of silence , he gets to hear him again. minjun closes his eyes immediately but it only makes things worse. ❝ shit. ❞ he curses. now he can see him. flushed cheeks , wet lashes. eyes swollen from crying. the tip of his nose pink. he imagines tears gathering and hates himself for how easily the image comes to him. once upon a time , he would've kissed every single one away before they could fall.
the voicemail ends , and his thumb hovers over the delete button. he should do it , if he doesn't , he'll spend the rest of the night listening to it again and again until iseul's voice becomes woven into his dreams. but he doesn't delete it ; instead , he steps out onto the balcony. minjun presses record and , for several seconds , says nothing. breathing feels difficult , speaking feels WORSE. ❝ it's been difficult for you , hasn't it? dae refuses to tell me how you are. i don’t blame him though. ❞ a humorless laugh escapes him. ❝ but i know. i know you. ❞ his fingers scratch at the back of his neck as he searches for words that refuse to come ❝ i didn't . . . ❞ he swallows hard. ❝ how could you even think that? i could have a gun pointed at my head and i still wouldn't be able to say those words. i loved you. i love you. ❞ the confession leaves his mouth trembling and the lump forming in his throat grows heavier with every sentence. ❝ i love you so much that i don't want you to be unhappy. i couldn't give you what you deserved. ❞ the city begins to blur beneath gathering tears. minjun forces himself to pause for a fraction of a second before continuing to speak. ❝ what's the point of loving someone if you have to hide them forever? that's not fair. i want everyone to know. i want everyone to see how loved you are , even if i’m not responsible for it. ❞ that one hurts because he means it. he'd rather lose iseul than watch him spend his entire life shrinking himself to fit inside his fears. ❝ and it’s KILLING me knowing somebody else will get to love you the way i wanted to. ❞ his voice finally breaks , and tears spill over. ❝ but . . . i’m so scared. i’m such a mess , and i broke your heart , and . . .this is so unfair . . . i know. ⸺ i love you so much , iseul. ❞ when the recording ends , minjun stares at the screen , and just as he's about to send it , he presses delete and watches the message vanish before it ever reaches its destination. the cruelest thing a ghost can do is keep haunting someone who is trying desperately to survive them , so perhaps this is kinder.
˗ˏˋ·.·★ 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨: m / f / nb / +21. [ @indiestarter ]
˗ˏˋ·.·★ 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞: Lenora Ayrs. 30 year old photo-journalist with interest on war and its horrors.
˗ˏˋ·.·★ 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭: You were my source for a story. We're getting coffee after my picture of your grandfather —and a retelling of his times of service— got published on the cover of Spyglass Magazine.
"I mean... I feel like a monster sometimes," Nora interlocked her fingers around the latte. It had a cute little heart on it, a frivolous little picture of love made ethereal foam. "Capitalizing on the pain of others... so I- I was thinking..." one shoulder raised, making it mean less than it did, "... what if, maybe, I gave you a portion of the royalties from the mag?"
❝ ¿sabes qué habría dicho mi abuelo? te habría preguntado si te golpeaste la cabeza. ❞ una risa breve se le escapa antes de negar con lentitud.
piensa en el viejo sentado frente a la ventana de la residencia , con las manos llenas de manchas de edad. tenía la costumbre de restarle importancia a todo lo que había sobrevivido y nunca aceptaba que alguien le agradeciera ⸺ decía que la guerra estaba llena de hombres mejores que él y que el único mérito que había tenido era seguir viviendo. incluso cuando el gobierno le ofrecía reconocimientos , él encontraba una excusa para no presentarse.
❝ además , no deberías sentirte de esa manera. tú no inventaste su historia ni la robaste. la escuchaste . . . y la contaste. hay una diferencia enorme. ❞ levanta apenas un hombro. ❝ siempre quiso ser una celebridad , supongo que esto cuenta. ❞ añade señalando la revista encima de la mesa. ❝ cuando él muera . . . quedará esto. eso es suficiente para mí y mi familia. ❞ thomas juega distraídamente con el borde de su taza y le sonríe calidamente. ❝ pero si quieres hacer algo por mí , entonces déjame ser yo quien invite el café la próxima vez. ❞
jingjing_bm.
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– Stray Kids 5th Fanmeeting '5'CLOCK' (250216)
LEE KNOW — hollow: album jacket behind
sook felt his heart rate speed up with anxiety when he heard footsteps approaching him and refused to look up from his drink, afraid is was that same guy or someone like him. the soft voice made him pause, it was so different from the loud, obnoxious voice from before so sook felt a bit safe enough to lift his eyes,"yeah...I remember you." sook said, trying to smile but failed.
"I just....didn't like his touch..." was all he mumbled for a moment after that, his eyes going back to his drink, watching a drop of condensation slide down the side. it sounds silly, but he hoped minwoo didn't think he was rude. he came here to make friends and when someone actually came up to him, he ran away, he felt like he was selfish but he really didn't feel right standing next to the guy.
sook shook those thoughts away and looked back up at minwoo,"but...thank you for coming to check up on me...i tried asking others for help but...they either ignored me or just laughed." he admitted, a small red flush covering his cheeks, he didn't get why he was ignored or laughed at, but it did make him feel silly.
minwoo's lips purse at sook's words , taking the liberty of leaning back against the wall beside him. their arms could brush against each other if they were closer but he has a feeling sook has already had more than enough people invading his space tonight. ❝ yeah , i saw that. ❞ his gaze drifts briefly toward the living room before returning to sook. ❝ that was fucked up. he shouldn't have done it. i don't even know why seungho keeps inviting him. nobody really likes him that much. ❞
then minwoo shakes his head. ❝ you don't have to thank me. ❞ his eyes wander across the room again. ❝ honestly , i don't think most people here even know what's going on around them. if they're not drunk , they're high. ❞ he lifts his chin toward the center of the room. a shirtless guy somehow climbs onto a table and makes an absolute spectacle of himself , arms spread dramatically as if he is performing for thousands rather than thirty intoxicated college students. after a few minutes , he loses his balance , only to be rewarded with a round of applause. minwoo lets out a short laugh. ❝ i doubt someone in that condition would've been much help. ⸺ i guess we got lucky . . . meeting each other , i mean. ❞ a soft smile tugs at his lips.
❝ ⸺ do you like mario kart? ❞ the question arrives without warning and before sook can even answer , minwoo continues. ❝ i have a nintendo switch in my room. ❞ his mother had always laughed about that part of him. the way he wandered through life , collecting people without even trying. ❝ to be honest , i only came downstairs to say hi. i'm not a big fan of the parties seungho throws. ❞ most nights like this , he stayed upstairs , hidden away in his room with paint-stained fingers and unfinished sketches scattered across every available surface. ❝ though . . . ❞ minwoo says at last. his expression softens. ❝ if you'd rather stay here , that's okay too. ❞
˙ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆｡˚꩜ Marco looks at Minho, words stuck in his throat as he tried to explain himself. Blood running from his mouth as he rolled onto his side to face Minho. ❛ Sorry.. I was gonna come to grab my jacket — thought you weren’t home so I used the house key under the doormat. ❜ The apology slipped before the stubborn man could take it back, but something about the way the man beat him up made him smile. Knowing that Minho was very protective of his stuff. That was a good thing. ❛ And who’s responsible for how I look? ʏᴏᴜ. ❜ Marco replied honestly, heart beating in his chest — slamming against his ribs as the man scooted closer to Minho and pulled him against his chest, holding him there in a hug. ❛ I won’t do it again, now you owe me. ❜ The words left his mouth in a soft whisper.
minho lets out a scoff. ❝ anyone else would have called or sent a message first. ❞ he replies , and when he catches the curve of marco’s mouth , that infuriating smile still lingering despite the blood smeared across his face , he reaches over and punches his arm lightly. hard enough to make a point. guilt has already begun to settle heavily in his chest , sour and uncomfortable , now that the adrenaline is draining away and leaving behind the ugly evidence of what he has done. ❝ don’t smile ! i could have beaten you to death. ❞ he grumbles , frowning as his gaze flickers over the bruises already blooming beneath the blood. yet the moment marco’s arms slip around him , minho doesn’t pull away. he stays exactly where he is , caught in the circle of his embrace , breathing hard as the metallic scent of fresh blood fills his lungs. it should be unpleasant , and it should make him pull away. instead , he stays. ❝ you brought it on yourself , ❞ he mutters. his eyes roll towards the ceiling even though marco can’t see it. ❝ sure , but first , we need to clean up all that blood. ❞
reluctantly , minho untangles himself from marco’s arms. ( part of him would have preferred to stay there a little longer. ) ❝ come on. ❞ he rises to his feet and extends a hand toward him. ❝ let’s go to the bathroom. ❞ a grin tugs unexpectedly at the corner of his mouth. ❝ want to hear something funny ? ❞ he asks. ❝ your jacket isn’t even here. ❞ the grin widens. ❝ i put it in your bag before you left. ❞
Open Starter: Sook
he just wanted to get out of here. sook agreed to go to one of his collage classmates party, he thought it would be a good way to make friends. at first, he was fine, he even got to talking to a guy who seemed friendly...a little too friendly. he had an unknown feeling, it felt like bugs crawling underneath his skin, everytime the guy tried to touch him. lucky for sook, someone else seemed to grab the others attention and he started talking with them instead, so he used the excuse to go hide in a corner somewhere, drinking the soda he brought from home, stiffening a bit when he heard footsteps approaching, not daring to look up incase it was him again.
minwoo had noticed his discomfort. at first , he had assumed they knew each other. but the longer minwoo watched , the more something felt wrong ⸺ every time the guy at his side draped an arm over his shoulders or let a hand wander where it wasn't welcome , the tension in his body was evident.
he had excused himself from the girl he had been talking to , offering some half-hearted apology he couldn't even remember afterward. his gaze never strayed far from sook. part of him had intended to confront the other guy directly , to tell him to back off , to stop touching someone who so clearly wanted nothing to do with him but before he could cross the room , sook had slipped away on his own and minwoo had found himself following.
and there he is now , looking at sook standing alone in the corner. ❝ hey . . . ❞ his voice comes out softer than he'd intended. he stops a few feet away , trying to catch sook's gaze. ❝ you're sook , right ? ❞ the question feels awkward the moment it leaves his mouth. ❝ i'm minwoo. we're in the same class , but . . . ❞ a small , self-conscious smile tugs at his lips. ❝ i don't think we've ever properly introduced ourselves. ❞
his eyes keep drifting back to sook's face , searching for any sign that he's being heard. when sook doesn't immediately look at him , minwoo feels a knot form in his stomach. ❝ are you okay ? i saw what happened over there. ❞
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open to anyone .
“i think it's time we stop avoiding each other . everyone keeps whining that it's annoying planning around which of us can be there so maybe you can grow up now and tolerate being around me for the sake of our friends . "
nini lets out a quiet scoff before she can stop herself. it's absurd. as if she had been the only one avoiding rooms , avoiding parties , avoiding every gathering that required sharing the same air. as if she alone had created the awkwardness everyone complained about.
she rolls her eyes , crossing her arms tightly over her chest. ❝ oh , so it's all my fault. ❞ nini tilts her head slightly , disbelief flickering across her face. ❝ . . . you and i make that situation equally awkward , ❞ she says. ❝ you always blamed me for everything while you were the innocent little dove. ❞ a sarcastic smile appears at the corner of her mouth. ❝ i guess some things never change. ❞
Open starter!
" Ow! That hurt.. why’d you have to do this to me! "
❝ are you out of your fucking mind ?! ❞ the words explode out of minho , the second recognition finally punches through the adrenaline clouding his head. the strength to fight fades just as quickly. a moment ago , he had been straddling him , throwing punches , acting on pure instinct. now he stumbles backward and collapses beside him with a choked gag , as he struggles to stabilize his breathing. ❝ ugh . . . ❞ the groan scrapes out of his throat as he opens and closes his hand , staring at the blood smeared across his knuckles. ❝ who ⸺ who the hell breaks into someone else's house like that ?! ❞ he snaps , turning on him again. ❝ what did you expect me to do ? welcome you with flowers and hugs ? fuck . . . ❞ then he really looks at him. ❝ . . . you look like shit. ❞ minho drags a hand over his face and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment.
