#ccjinah

send a ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) and a kink, get avoidance and sarcasm (but please don’t send one)

“i heard if a toaster or radio falls in the bathtub while you’re in it, it’ll kill you. is that true? why would you wanna do that? oh, wait! electric guitar play! yeah, let’s go play!!”

it wasn’t completely accidental. well, it was, but him staying was no accident. 

night had long since fallen over busan. he’d just happened to pass by a building on his way home emitting loud music, something electronic and upbeat and honestly a little bit unsettling. the building wasn’t run down per se, but it wasn’t exactly a place he’d find himself in too often. or at all, rather, but for some reason, he stood in front of the door, unmoving. the music wasn’t that bad, now that he really listened to it. it definitely wasn’t the type of music he was accustomed to, but he wasn’t one to judge that quickly.

curiosity got the best of him, and without thinking twice, he pushed open the door to the building. the music’s volume increased tenfold when he stepped inside, so much so that he had to take a second to recollect himself from it. he didn’t know what he was expecting, but the sight of a rather large mosh pit and a band clad in bright colors was definitely not it. a hand reached up to adjust his glasses slightly, as if would help him to see the performance better. he was really in awe that there was this kind of lifestyle, that there was this kind of thing happening in the real world. this was usually a trope you’d find in the movies.

how long had he been standing there watching them? it was only ten minutes, right? he must’ve caught them just as they were ending, because now he was watching them give their parting words before walking off stage. people began filtering out the door behind him, and he found himself with his back against the wall as the crowd pushed and shoved to get through. 

soon enough he was the last one in the room, too much of a weakling to try to fight through the crowd like everyone else was doing before. with a sigh, he exits the building and grabs onto the straps of his bookbag before readying himself to begin the walk home once again. he had to admit he was thankful that he stopped to listen, he really enjoyed broadening his horizons. he even made a mental note to look up the band when he got home-- bisou, he was able to get from the band’s parting words and from the various posters plastered all over the venue.

byunghun only managed to take one step before he heard the door open behind him. turning around, he immediately recognized the face as the lead singer of the group he’d just watched-- well. can’t pass up this opportunity. he’s gotta at least say something, right? 

8. gentle peck

she’s the card of beauty, you know, sunyoung said to jin one night. or at least she should be.

because jinah is so breathtakingly beautiful–all flowing hair and long legs and sharp eyes and soft smiles. in the rare moments in which their skin brush against one another, sunyoung swears she can feel the electrical currents coiling and unfurling within jinah. startling, like static, leaving goosebumps all over sunyoung’s skin and her heart racing a bit faster than before.

“i’ve read that,” she begins, barely able to swallow the nervous knot forming in her throat. it’s half a lie, because sunyoung doesn’t really read, but– “proximity is a dangerous thing.”

and it’s a truth when you’re pressed up against each other in the small expanse of an underground club. the sharp noise of a guitar solo blasts in the background, not quite soft or romantic in the slightest, but sunyoung swears she can feel jinah’s lightning and she can only pray the blonde hasn’t noticed the erratic beating of her heart. 

in that moment, sunyoung realises that it might always be like this with jinah. it might always be stammered words and too few inches between them and black light lit eyes and nicotine in the air unless, unless, unless–

she’s standing on the balls of her feet before she realises it, hands full of jinah’s jacket as she pulls the girl down. it was oddly befitting, if not expected in some way, that jinah’s lips, prepossessing and pink and glossed, would feel so implacably soft despite all the acidic words they spat. 

it’s barely a brush of their lips, only a grainor two of sand in an hourglass, but it feels like several eternities by the time sunyoung pulls herself away. her hands, still clutching the leather of the blonde’s jacket, shake and her tongue grazes her bottom lip where she can still taste the residue of the blonde’s gloss.

☆ How they’d throw parties (what would go on at them, refreshments, etc)

If he throws a party for adults, it would be much different than a party for the kids. He’s always been the responsible one making sure there’s enough drinks -- both soda and alcohol --  without getting any of his own. He goes hard when it comes to decorating, but usually settles for ordering take-out. Sunggyu just doesn’t have it in him to prepare endless food, but he’ll do the desert! But, if someone gets him drunk...

Let’s just say that his favorite song by Sia is Chandelier.

☺What their welcome (or not-so-welcome) mat would say

domestic headcanon! ( OPEN )

☗ What you’d find in their cabinets

( desk cabinets )

- knives- plans for world domination- starscream ( her cat ) hiding - meds- money- more knives - bandaids- stickers- papers- etc

☃ What they wear around the house