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@chrsolbiâ
REWIND: 2018Â
if she wasnât such a good kisser, heâd still be mad about how she spilled red wine all over his valentino shirtâbrand new and worn for the first time today. (why did he think it was a good idea to wear a new shirt to a hannam alumni reunion? those were always messy, figuratively and literally, with tonight being the latter.) lucky for her, heâs decided let it go, since the only thing he wants more than to get the stain off, was to get the shirt (and every other article of clothing) off. if this was what she had planned when she offered to help him remove the stain (which eventually led to them stumbling into a cubicle in a lip lock), then well, mission accomplished.Â
as for him, he certainly did not expect to end up in his apartment with his high school deskmate, one he had spent all three years being at loggerheads with. youâd think theyâd want nothing to do with each other after graduation (and that was the case, until her clumsy ass spilled wine all over him), not end up in his apartment like they hadnât spent all of high school hating each other. to be fair, all that bickering did amount to quite a bit of unresolved tension between them, and theyâre just resolving it now as grown, mature adults, using, well, grown, mature, adult methods.
joon rolls the used rubber up and tosses it into the trashcan, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. âcongratulations.â he whispers smugly. âseven years after graduation, you finally fulfilled your biggest wish in high school.â he disappears into the bathroom to wash his hands, reemerging with a smirk cockier than before (probably caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he thinks he looks best with sex hair, hickeys and lipstick stains all over him). âso tell me, was I as good as I was in your dreams?âÂ
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chrsabâ:
sweet blooded and iâm stranded
@chrjoonâ
sheâs the first to move, coming to with a slight stir and a few bleary blinks. sabrina squints at the ceiling and the world starts to take shape. the curtains, the windows, the dark outside. the closed door, the bedside table, the giant lump of mass beside her.Â
what time is it? what year is it?
she purses her lips, tilts her head up. itâs the first breath she takes, the sudden rush of perfume and familiarity, that jolts her awake. she looks, really looks, and realizes that the warm thing beside her is joon.
like a leg jerking at a hammer-tap to the knee, she looks down at herself. the same powder blue shirt and denim skirt she came in. no ruffled sheets or discarded clothing. she looks back at him, confused. curls her fingers, surprised to clutch actual shirt-material on him.
disoriented and fully-clothed. thatâs new. usually, she wakes up next to him disoriented and completely naked.
and if she was any less tired, she would have pushed her eyebrows together and wondered. but as it stands, it takes way too many muscles to make a face. way too much energy to make her brain work. ( if she came to himâwhich she doesnât even remember doingâshe clearly wasnât putting much effort into being intelligent, anyway. ) so, she lets her brain rest and closes her eyes again. snuggling closer, bringing a leg up to wrap around him like a pillow.
this is how joon is used to waking up: hungover, naked, with someone just as hungover and naked by his side. this is how he woke up instead: not the slightest bit hungover, fully clothed, and worst of all, were they actually... cuddling? he stirs awake, eyes squinting as it battles the midday sun pouring into the all too familiar bedroom, his body too heavy to lift upâespecially not with her pressed against him like a child hugging their favourite stuffed toy to sleep. usually, this is when he peels them off him, gets up and leaves without a word (women that like cuddling after sex are terrifying creatures to mess with), but this isnât just any of his one night stands, heck, judging by how fully clothed they are or how neat the sheets are, they havenât even had sex, and that is a problem.Â
this cosy, intimate, somewhat romantic situation was too uncharacteristic of them. they were more of a bicker, fuck, and repeat duo, not a cuddle in bed as we bask in the warm sunlight duo, and everything about this situation is as concerning as it is alarming. there is a bigger problem, though. not only are they acting out of the norm, he actually isnât entirely against it this time, or to put it simply, he actually kind of liked it...? and it seems like he isnât the only one, made certain when he feels her body stir next to him, snuggling even closer to him than before. his lips curve into a lazy half-smirk, hidden by her mop of hair (that smelt so insanely good? is this why people like cuddling?) as he pulls her in, resting his chin on the top of her head. âyou know, this would be a lot more fun if we were naked.â
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No offense to God, but every thing my mother prayed I wouldnât be, I became.
Every place she prayed I wouldnât go, I went.
I walked so long I found Mercy.
I draped her thighs over my shoulders & drank.
Hiwot Adilow, âMihret,â published in Nepantla (via bostonpoetryslam)
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@noeulchrâ
REWIND: APR 2021
if joon is tantamount to a raging thunderstorm, one that threatens to bring down the sky, then noeul would be like a light morning drizzle, the kind that makes you want to snuggle under your covers and sleep in. in other words: noeul is comfort, solace, and safety, but heâs also nothing like joon. the first time joon showed up at noeulâs birthday party in high school, he heard someone whisper, âhow are the both of them friends?â he thought the same to himself on his twentieth birthday, when noeul stuck out amongst his friends at the club, both with his dad-like dance moves and his propensity to strike up a friendly conversation with the bartender, instead of flirting with people by the dance floor. (it was the first time joon had left his own birthday party earlyâhe figured heâd have more fun getting takeout with noeul. and he did.)Â
usually, youâd have most of your firsts with a lover. oddly enough, joon has most of his with noeul. (granted, heâs never really had a real lover.) he was the person he took his first sip of beer with, the person he went to the bathhouse with for the first time (did it without their parents knowing because god forbid their precious sons went to a grubby bathhouse for commoners, right?) and the first person he drove around after he got his driverâs license (he lied to his then girlfriend that it was her though). now, heâs also the reason joon visited a plant nursery for the first time, and actually left with one in his arms. no, he did not change his mind about plants, he still stands by his belief that plants (along with other responsibilities like pets and children) are only going to lower his quality of life. he can barely keep up with one committed relationship, what more devote his time to other living things whose survivability is solely dependent on him?Â
now, birthdays are no longer celebrated with acquaintances at parties and clubs. they do it just the way they like itâwith takeout and beer. joon pushes the doorbell to noeulâs apartment, backing away from the peephole camera when he hears his footsteps approaching. a childlike grin fans across his face as he hugs the bonsai plant to his chest, hoping his friend wouldnât catch sight of him. heâs sure noeul would never guess itâs him at the door (after all, he knows the pin number to his apartment and has no qualms about making himself comfortable whether or not he was home). âsurprise!â joon cheers, sticking his arms out to present noeul the new addition to his little bonsai family. âhappy birthday.âÂ
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@chrseongwooâ
REWIND: MAR 2021
small talkânot really joonâs kind of thing. unless youâre a pretty lady he wants the number of, or a schoolmate-turned-colleague making their coffee at the other end of the pantry, then well, heâd offer his best attempt at making conversation. itâs about time he broke the ice anywayâif it was even penetrable at this point, considering the otherâs uninterested, noticeably hostile demeanour towards him. did he ever offend him back in high school? possible. flirt with his girlfriend? highly likely. no, the real question here is, have they ever exchanged a word? aside from âhi, Iâm kang joon and Iâll be interning here until the end of the year,â of course.Â
of all things joon is bad at, remembering names top the listâunsurprising for someone with a reputation of a philanderer. but that also means heâs especially good at recognising faces, even if he fails to put a name to it. he had recognised him right away, from the very moment their eyes met on the first day of his internship. he wonders if seongwoo had recognised him too, or if he was preoccupied with wondering why he did not require an interview to score an internship with themâthey were usually pretty stringent with their hires, after all.Â
the rich aroma of coffee fills the room but there was something heavier in the air, something that simply would not go unnoticed by himâthe heavy silence between them. was it awkward? not really. uncomfortable? yes. joon knew that there was no better time than now to break the silence, so they could go from acquaintances that arenât on talking terms to civil colleagues, at the very least. he should say something. anything. and he should say it soon, before the coffee machine finishes drizzling coffee into said colleagueâs mug and he no longer has a reason to stay in this stuffy pantry with him.Â
âyou shouldâve hired her.â he remarks, cocking his head towards the door, where he had last seen the girl who had just came by for an interview. âsheâs hot.â
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@chrhayoungÂ
mother had taught him a thing or two about wearing a facade, and she mustâve taught him well, considering how skilful heâs gotten at wiping out traces of indecency on him as he stepped into holy ground, donning a virtuous smile fitting for the occasion, an attempt at blending in with the sunday morning church crowd. who would have thought that just hours ago, he was a complete messâsex hair, marks all over him, urgently scouring through his wardrobe in search of a shirt that would hide the marks she had left behind. (speaking of which, he failed. didnât try hard enough. do him a favour and pretend you donât see them, please?)
it was starting to become a weekly traditionâhe spends saturday nights worshipping her every curve and contour, and they peel themselves off each other with the rise of the sun, only to reconvene in the holy sanctuary their families gather at every sunday morning. by her, he means the daughter of the most religious family in their neighbourhood, the family he goes to church with, and the same family just sitting a couple of rows away from his. and there she wasâsitting there looking all pious and demure, like she wasnât just playing with the devil the night before. Â
it wasnât hard to spot her in the crowd, she could dress like a devout child of god all she wants but heâd recognise her all the same. easy, his eyes always wanders towards her anyway, and when it does, his mind wanders where it shouldnâtâespecially not in church. youâd think that he wouldâve satiated his appetite last night, but he finds himself entertaining another bawdy idea he knows she wouldnât be too pleased with. should he blame it on how boring the sermon is, or how insanely good she looks in that dress? (is that supposed to make her look chaste? innocent? virginal? not even close.)Â
itâs quite a feat how she never fails to turn his boredom into stark curiosity and amusement. coming to think of it, sheâs probably the reason he could sit through all those years of weekly sermons, none of which eased him of the guilt that lives within him. ironically, partaking in indecent acts with her filled the void in him, a much needed distraction from the chaos of his mind. the contours of his lips curves into a roguish grin as he hits âsendâ, latching his gaze onto her in anticipation of her reaction when she opens the picture attached. sure, they were a little tipsy the night before (as they were on most nights spent together) but surely sheâd recognise the last piece of material he removed from her before the night escalated, right?
[ NEW MESSAGE ]Â
âşÂ you left something behind.Â
âşÂ image3728.jpg
âşÂ how cute.
âşÂ want it back?Â
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hey yâall, Iâm here with tyrannical and narcissistic playboy, kang joon! heâs basically a prisoner of his past; when he was twelve, he watched his mother kill his cheating father and heâs never been quite the same since. Iâll leave some links down below, along with more information about him under the cut. I already have some plots up on my plots page, though itâs still a work in progress. if none of those work for you, Iâd be more than happy to brainstorm something up! if youâd like to plot, you can like this post and Iâll drop you an im, otherwise, we can also take it to discord!
STATISTICSÂ /Â BIOGRAPHYÂ /Â PLOTSÂ
BACKGROUND.
( trigger warnings: death, indirect murder. )
it starts off pretty simple: his father was a lawyer with his own law firm and his mother was a popular actress of the 80s and early 90s; put them together and you get a perfect family of three.
except it was far from perfect behind closed doors; daddy constantly cheated on mommy and mommy cried and drank herself to sleep every night. in short: she was getting a little psycho, understandably so.
one night, after a rather intense fight, his father had an asthma attack and his mother, fuelled by vengeance, decided to kick his inhaler away from him which ultimately, resulted in dire consequences that took his life.
unfortunately, kang joon was standing by the doorway when it happened, and witnessed all of it. his mother had no idea but his father knew, his face being the last thing he laid his eyes on before his body went still.Â
he was only twelve when this happened, so yes, it pretty much fucked him up.
not only did he not step in to save his father, he remained mum throughout the investigations, not uttering a word about the truth he witnessed.Â
eventually, his fatherâs passing was ruled as complications from an asthma attack and all his inheritance went to his mother.
being the actress she was, his mother had bawled her eyes out at his fatherâs funeral, gaining sympathy from many others for being widowed so young.Â
unlike his mother, guilt started eating him away and he had to find a way to make up to his late father.
when he came to know that he would inherit his law firm one day, he made a promise to his father that he would get into law school, pass the bar exam, take over his law firm and do a really good job with it.Â
and heâs almost there, now that he is in his final year of law school.
heâs currently interning at his late fatherâs law firm, now managed by his maternal uncle, who is notorious for helping white-collared criminals.
PERSONALITY.
insanely charismatic and this helps with his tendency to 1) manipulate and 2) flirt.Â
conscience is his long forgotten friend, so yes, he will do anything to get what he wants, though it can range from taking down your business, stealing your girl to simply getting you to join him for meal.Â
claims that manipulation is the greatest art of all, or at least, second to the female anatomy (of which he shows great appreciation to).Â
a product of his childhood traumas; sleeps around and chooses to believe heâs incapable of love, like his father, is shrewd and a little fucked up, like his mother.Â
a child that was forced to grow up too early; explains why he still acts like one now (wilful, selfish and oddly endearing during the rare times he drops his weapon).
can be quite the narcissist but most of it is him acting like heâs the best, to cover up the fact that heâs really the worst.
an asshole that thinks he can pay his way out of anything (probably true though).
works hard but plays harder; pretty intelligent but uses it for the wrong reasons.Â
fun to be around, probably makes you feel more special than you really are.Â
to put it simply, you either really love him or really hate him.Â
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my mother looks at me & sees my fatherâs mistakes (plural noun; fragmented families donât know how to coexist). my father looks at me & sees everything i used to be (noun: innocent & soft hearted). my brother looks at me & sees the worst of my parents (verb; shaking, hurting, burning); he looks at me & sees the only thing in our family that might get out alive. i look at myself & see a monster (noun; blood hands & a venomous mouth & a failing heart).
and iâve failed them all ; p.v.s. (via sarchengseys)
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