GhostBoy! @avchie-blog - Tumblr Blog

I’m so busy lately. I’m trying to work on replies and memes but if you want im @m.orgue on aim.

( avchie )

[ † 💀 † ] – Throughout most of Yoongi’s life, the thought of relationships and dating quite literally made him want to gag. Yet somehow, he found himself smack dab in the middle of one. He enjoyed it too, in his own dark, masochistic way. The man, who never wanted another name attached to his, fell into a state of monogamy, before he could blink or try to resist. Archibald Song – someone seemingly eviler than himself, but also someone, who became weak to cuddling and affectionate name calling, when he fell to a state of tiredness – was an enigma. Getting to learn about the nuances, that made up the artist, was one of the writer’s favorite activities. He couldn’t figure him out, probably would never be able to, and it kept him in a state of both amusement and frustration. To put it simply, he loved and hated it. Loved and hated Archie.

Even the patterns they fell into, typical for that of a normal couple, were steeped in occasional chaos. Maybe this was what kept Yoongi’s flight or fight response from being triggered. Maybe this was what made him wish to take his boyfriend out to dinner, despite his irate hatred for such monotony, and near undeniable urge to destroy any pair he saw indulging in the trivial act. But Archie’s smile lit up his insides, made them feel akin to drowning happily in a sea of flames, and he’d do anything, everything, just to see it again. They were going somewhere casual, a place that served various chicken options, which he surmised to be the lone food the other ate. “Look at this handsome asshole. You ready?” he chirped, a rare (except in front of Archie), wide grin overtaking his features, as he prodded at the shorter’s cheeks.

avchie-blog

The drab fabric of Archie’s worn cotton shirt clung to the male’s bony shoulders; thin enough to crease and virtually trace along each of his jutting angles, rippling at the waist with every subtle shift and reach. His toes curled with impatience, fitting cozily within the imprints hollowed out with time and use into the boot’s soles. Archie failed to react accordingly to Yoongi’s glib question, with his only response awarded towards the other a simple bob of the elder’s head, features twisted into a look of dismissive indifference despite the nearly telling twitch currently aching and settling into every of Archie’s knuckles. If meticulously styled hair, bordering a freshly washed complexion and the use of his only cologne, wasn’t answer enough for his lover-- Archie figured he didn’t deserve one at all.

“Fuck off.” The utterance trailed after frail digits, each boasting their individual ink stain from work days prior as they flittered in the air between assaulted cheek and it’s ill-mannered assailant. It was the apex of their exchange; a stark contrast between the passing kiss to Yoongi’s jaw, with every inkling of mocked and pronounced irritation Archie could muster seeping from each pore. “Don’t just fucking stand there, man. I’m starving, and I’d rather take the damn walk before it gets in the negatives out there.”

#r #[[ i trIED

stiigma-blog

okay, so, if you send “six word story” to my inbox, i’ll pick a random one from the site and write a drabble/starter for our characters based off of it

#this is my SERIOUS attempt at being active again leggo

fyeah-myname

#;ghost

I’ve been busy with some shit and haven’t been able to be on the dash for a few days. I’m slowly, very slowly working on the starters but I promise they’ll all be out eventually. For now, im @a.rchie on aim if you want to talk.

Starter for - vanghould !

A judgmental look, along with pointed digits picking,prodding, and pulling at the overtly frilly garment’s protruding edges is all that’s met with upon questioning Archie’s opinion. He could have grimaced, but the lack of caffeine surging through his system is enough to dull Archie’s irritability into a slow burning distaste for the task at hand: fucking shopping.

“Not if you want to get laid, no. Unless you’re into being read nursery rhymes while getting nailed from behind.” It was crude, yet spoken with (by Archie’s standards) the best of intentions. This lithe, nimble hand scooped up under the hanger; lifting both plastic and dress from the girls hold to settle it back in place among the other frills on the rack. “My dad used to bring shit like that home for my mom to use as curtains and tablecloths. She trashed all of them, too.”

#[[ hope its alright!#vanghould

Starter for - lnovae !

“It’s futile, y’know.” Archie’s flippant tone had nearly been stifled by a poorly timed crunch of teeth to stale ice cream cone; the white treat seeping out messily to decorate the man’s lips, with it’s corn-based vessel momentarily depositing loose crumbs in either corner of Archie’s mouth. Any attempt in mumbling some semblance of a coherent message, and the string of meaningless taunts are thwarted by the mouthful of ice and cream currently working of numb the man’s tongue. It’s ridiculous, embarrassing even, and yet Archie ducks in proudly for his second bite. “Not a soul on the fucking planet who can eat more ice cream than I can.”

“Don’t get me started on speed, either. I’d smoke anyone who tried shoveling this shit down their throat.” Archie had paused after his declaration; tongue dragging along either of his lips in order to collect any lasting residue of the sticky frozen treat. He shifted the corn hook from one hand to another as a sort of reprieve from the cold, with his gaze shifting around and sharp features settling into one undeniably smug expression. “You could try, though. As a bet.”

#[[ hope its alright!#lnovae

I’m doing the starters, promise. I wanted to get most of them written before I started publishing. They’ll be out soon, hopefully!

joovcho:

Teeth biting roughly into the chocolate he leans back in his seat. Eyes glancing at the floor and then briefly at the people walking past him. It was waiting time for him, they had plans to meet up Oscar had curiously asked Archie to take him to a tattoo shop. Oscar didn’t want a tattoo he had just wanted to see and also didn’t believe Archie who had told him earlier that they barely hurt. People’s pain level were obviously different and Oscar was pretty sure his was the lowest it could get. It might feel like someone was hacking off a body part slowly; he could only imagine and hope that no accidents happened at the place he was visiting.

The echoing tap of heavy boots to concrete had marked Archie’s late arrival, with each step drawing the man closer towards his lazed and waiting friend. Normal circumstances and the request to meet up would have been quickly followed, if not immediately, by a refusal on Archie’s part; his stubborn distate for anything other than afternoons on the couch in his underwear no doubt carving a hefty pit in the man’s social life. Yet despite his penchant for apathy, its the simple, subtle suggestion that maybe-- just maybe he’d have an excuse to ink himself once more, that would be more than enough to pull Archie from his self-imposed confines and onto the streets of the city they live in, all without a second moment or thought spared.

It’s with this selfish incentive that Archie finds himself coming to his full stop just a pace away from Oscar and the bench he’s found perch on, disregarding the sudden urge to comment on the other’s poor choice of clothing in regards for their intended destination. Black, he would’ve spat. Not my mom’s sweater and a chocolate bar from your school lunchbox. Habitually chewed lips stretched out with a grin; saturated with both delight and impatience while booted foot tapping against the other as Archie spoke out. “Time to get the show on the road, man. Ready to get needled?”

#[[ no no of course it fits! dont worry heh #[[ just hope my reply is okay!#r

-- Starter call ! ☠

I’ve been really shitty with this blog and it’s inactivity lately, so I need some threads to get me going again. Like this post for a random starter of at least a paragraph in length, or message if you’d like to plot! Doesn’t matter if we’ve interacted or not, either.

#does that look fancy enough idk i just want Threads #krp lit

“This world is a fucking mess.”

Archie Song || Oc || Lit || NSFW Material || About || Follow

“And I'm only half the problem!”

#krp lit #krp oc #krp follow #wow lovin how tumblr kills image quality #I REALLY NEED THREADS fuck come plot with me

“I had higher expectations of you.”

A squint, a sneer, or a scoff– all three genuinely capable of detailing Archie’s vehement response to his friend’s words. His droopy set of shoulders rose to proper form in a way that almost challenged the sentiment, giving Archie the look of learned self-importance (a trait he carried with him at all times, no doubt). A single bony hand plunged deep within the bowl of shared popcorn between the two men, carving out a generously sized clump of the snack to messily pelt his friend with.

“Go fuck yourself, man. This movie is a classic.” Archie punctuated his remark with another handful of buttered popcorn, watching as it bounced and left speckles of salt and shiny, buttery blotches against Aduro’s tanned skin. “Should know by now I’m not sitting you down to watch fucking Pororo, so chill and give it a shot.” A sudden pause of speech, sparked entirely by a brief reveal of breasts on the screen. “.... Gets better as it goes on, as you can see.”

#epidermix

sometypeofblog

I’ll swallow my blood before I swallow my pride.

Al Capone

ᴀ.ʜ.;ᴅᴇᴛᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴀᴜ

+ saintguts

Dreary weather and damp, oil-slicked asphalt streets crafted an unusually somber mood for an August morning. Frail shoulders slumped beneath the thinner black coat Archie had draped over his frame that morning, the light fabric only adding fuel to a supposed silhouette of a thin boy standing in shoes twice his size. Archie’s uniform never once fit him properly; tucked, trimmed, and tailored all to no avail. So he stands there, with thighs propped against the hood of his rain speckled car and an unlit cigarette in his hand, looking more like a kid playing dress-up than the detective who fought tooth and nail in order to earn his shiny badge.

Week old contact lenses burned over the man’s tired eyes, crying out for a much needed replacement as Archie scanned the crowd for the one he had been waiting for. A fucking rookie. He’d have snot in his nose and tissues bundled within the useless confines of a shirt’s breast pocket, no doubt. Regulation police boots to top off the rest of his ironed and pressed costume, tucked in and handled with a mother’s loving touch. He’d probably be a fucking pre-teen with cleaned ears and tongue that’s never curled around words so unholy they’d knock your mother on her ass. But the worst part of it all--?

“A new fucking partner, Archie. A fresh set of eyes to go along.” Each word, every syllable uttered had tied itself along with a sneer riddled with false bravado; pure contempt laced through Archie’s portrayal of his twit boss. “And where the fuck is this guy, anyways?”

#saintguts #[[ write more or less idk #[[ eeeenjoy!

angstmemes

disappointment starters

avchie-blog

angstmemes:

“I thought you of all people would be different.” “This was supposed to be a fun day. You always ruin everything.” “Our flight’s been cancelled… there goes our holiday.” “I’m not angry. I’m disappointed.” “I know you didn’t do it on purpose, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be disappointed.” “I can’t believe this. You always turn everything into such a disaster!” “I’m not disappointed in you, I’m disappointed in the situation…” “I can’t believe this is happening. Can nothing ever go right?!” “I’m so sorry to let you down. I know you were looking forward to this.” “You always let me down. You’re so unreliable.” “I’d expected a lot more from you.” “Stop being so selfish! You’re ruining everything for everyone.” “You’re such a disappointment to the family.” “I’m sorry to be such a disappointment. I know you expected more of me.” “That movie was so disappointing.” “Why is everything in life actually so disappointing? You get yourself excited every time, only to be let down, time and time again.” “You’re not disappointing! Just… surprising.” “I thought you cared about me. Someone who cares about someone else doesn’t let them down like you just did.” “You could’ve tried harder!” ”I’m not going to lie… I am disappointed.” “No no! You’re great, but the sex was just really disappointing.” “Honestly, you’re the biggest disappointment of my life.” “You weren’t there for me when I needed you. Why do you expect me to be here for you now you need me?” “I had higher expectations of this.” “I had higher expectations of you.”

#send em in while I'm mobile #I'll have a computer in a few hours

hyunado:

Eyes seemed to turn upwards with surprise glistening, before she turned her head towards the rest of the desolate bar. There hadn’t been enough thought in her head to process the fact that time had passed between the time she had arrived and the time it was now, but logic being, she was preoccupied with somber thoughts. “I appreciate it.” A mutter across coral lips, as she turned her eyes back down towards the drink as if it would give her all the answers but the question being was did she want the answers. “Sorry, sorry.” A dismissive wave of one hand, as finally she let the liquid emotion slip past her lips and down her throat. The self mendicant wasn’t going to fix her problems, but it’d let her somber thoughts take a dip into the depths of black that knows no bounds within her. It was quite the time to be suffering so sullenly, as her comeback was fast approaching and she had light in her life with her friends wedding, but Hyuna was someone who was incredibly volatile. From one extreme to the other, and god forbid you can warped into one of her more negative moods.

“I wish it did, it’d make life easier if it could give me the answers I need to know.” Maybe the blissfulness of others had her in constant state of reminder for her own miserable emotions. Wedding announcements by the numbers, people smiling. All of it making her want to vomit the contents of her stomach, and that was something she had found was so frequent it had become of her every day being. “What do you do when there’s so much happiness around you that you feel like you should be happy too, but nothing can make you happy and you just in turn end up loathing everyone silently. It’s not like you can tell them that. I can’t tell my best friends that I hate them for being happy, just because I’m a jealous piece of shit.” Artificial eyes looked dull as she looked towards him, as she rested her chin on her bawled fist, which was connected to the propped elbow on the bar.

“Also I’ll take another, and I’ll give you a really good tip if you stay just a little bit longer.” It was almost like she was pleading with him not to leave her alone.

“One, and done. I have shit to do when I get home, you know.” Even the simplest promise of a pocketful full of cash, along with an excuse to wet his whistle had been reason enough for Archie. He tugged his own drifting attention from an outward display of aggravation, instead directing the weary focus Archie boasted into pouring either of them a drink; two squared glasses nursing an amber whiskey within the confines of it’s clear walls. Though languid and aching with the lull of sleep deprivation, each motion, each curl of his digits and curving of his palms, each lift of either arm had all read with his own brand of muted anticipation. His parched state had etched itself into every facet of Archie’s expression, settling darkening circles beneath two dulled brown eyes. It was moments like these, were nothing but stale, lingering breaths from drunken customers tangled with an overhead, overplayed soundtrack and it’s collected dust, the hanging in air growing so thick with a day’s worth of tales riddled with remorse and unsolved domestic quarrels, when the silence in Archie’s bar had grown to be so deafening that he had the time to take a fucking drink.

“But damn, don’t look so fucking pathetic.” Archie’s thumb traced along the glass closest him; his ink-stained callous swiping off remnants of splashed alcohol to trail a smudged coat of finger oils in it’s wake. Harsh words slipped from his tongue like a beaten form of poetry, with no cause or reason for a filter, and no feasible switch to say “stop”. His tongue had curled with them just as the hand cradling his tumbler curved around it’s clear base, managing to keep it and the contents inside still despite each exaggerated movement displayed as he spoke. It’s original bottle had long since been discarded and wobbling at the side; his mannerisms remained haphazard despite the alcohol's missing price tag and his obligation to keep the drink secure. A free hand waved between the two, straightening out with intent to motion towards the woman sat across from Archie. "You find solace in despair. Take another look at your miserable, pathetic fucking excuse of a life and begin picking out whatever morbid bits you can hold close to your shriveled little heart. Shit’s not getting better, baby doll. Nut up or shut up.”

#[[ this is TRASH IM SORRY i need to stop writing at 5 am when im half asleep #r

50-60

The entire 41-50 is missing on the meme, so I guess I’m staring with 51.

#[[ thanks for sending this in!#joenjnvg

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