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@blxssomtears-blog
;;ooc: I am still getting used to commuting between the city my new Uni is at, and the work in my hometown and the place I stay at during the week does not have wireless. Alas, this muse is not dead and you can sometimes find me on AIM.
Bambam: “How do I do this?”
send my muse one of these:
❝it says here…we need flour, eggs…chocolate and cinnamon.❞
❝then we can bake the cake following the directions!❞
“Ahhhhh, but it still seems difficult...” Maybe it was because he was still a bit slow at piercing the hanguls together to form long sentences - like those instructions.
“.....please keep reading them aloud to me, hyung!!” He added, to make clear that this was what his initial problem was and moved to put all the ingredients the elder already named closer together.
[leo] B̨̝̤́͜E̷̢͔̯̣W̵̵̛̩̲͎͓A̞̩̜͉̮̜̥͚R̴͉̜̲̼͈̳̣̪͝É̘͈̲̗͠͡ ̳͈̖̱̤̦̹̪̝Ţ̥̮̲̦̕͝H̞̳̳͝ͅẸ̡̮̰̝͕͓̘ ̮̘̳͖̠̗̀Ŕ̝̘̤ͅE̡̥̹̫̖̙̤͈̫͢F̗L̯̻̞͢͝Ę̩̝́C͚͕̦T̠̘̪͎ͅI̞̗͘͢͞O̩͖̹͕͙͓̹̮͠N͉̹̻̖̤̰̯͚ ̶̶̧͍̯͕̜̖̣̥̫Á̖͙S̠̫͓͉̕ ̖̫̟͇̞̩I̸̼̪̞̞̙̜͎T̥̼̮ ̵̧̧͖̠̝̫Í̘̗̥͙̩͞S͏͏̖̠̠͉͖̭̟ ̢̪̳̳̘̻̩̩̘̼͘T̡͎͕̩́͝H͏͎É̬̪͇͓̠̼ ̨̺̰͓̱̻̬̟̙͞O̤̦N̴̤̖̖̫͡͞E̪͇͖̮̭̜̭͓ ̵̦͓̜͍̠̗W҉̵̞̩Ḫ͓̤̦͎̼̟Ò͉̙͘͡ ̻̩̹ͅY̵͚̦̞̕O͈̩͠U̗̖͕̭͕͟ ͎̫̱͇̖̩͠M̴̫̱̼͇̹̞͍̘̰U̸̡̙̻͢S̶̨̰͈̙̞ͅŢ͏̻̙̖̙̙̬ ̨̲͇̪̫̀F̛̘̣͎̫̥E͎̲̟͖̗͞ͅA̦͙͝͡R̛͖̙͚͕̲̗͖̙͢͜ ̮̀͞Ṱ͕͔̭͍̬̕͝H͔͠É̬͇̱̗͈̩́ͅ ̨҉̰͓̼̯̘M̴̨̙̘͙̖̪͞O͝͏̮̩̺͠S̩̺͔̞͕̫̫T̷̵͔͟.̝͔̲̩͢
“…..you can’t scare me….” The quiet voice and fact that he tried to avoid to look anywhere but at the floor was quite a contrast to his words. Still, he was a grown man and would object anyone who said he was scared.
[ text ]: I just got mistaken for a porn star.
meme: random texts status: open
[ text ]: ....I hope they did not molest you. [ text ]: If they did, give me their names and faces-
would you rather be spooked by a scary skeleton or a ghastly ghost?
“....there are no scary skeletons. silly, anon.”
[ text ]: Apparently 'mmm watcha say' isn't funny anymore.
meme: random texts status: open
[ text ]: mm whatcha say~
Random texts.
[ text ]: I'm drunk on lemonade.
[ text ]: A book told me to bathe in milk. I have regrets.
[ text ]: Help. I'm stuck in [insert name here]'s house and they won't let me leave.
[ text ]: Last night, I used 7 champagne glasses to empty an orange juice carton and drank none of them.
[ text ]: I accidentally sexted my mom.
[ text ]: Why is my TV in the back hard.
[ text ]: I can't find my phone.
[ text ]: Sorry about calling you for pizza last night. I got you and the delivery number mixed up.
[ text ]: I got prank called that my cat was in the freezer but I don't have a cat and I'm scared.
[ text ]: Don't be alarmed. There's a pretty angry cat in your apartment.
[ text ]: I don't know who you are but I want pizza.
[ text ]: Do you have my dog?
[ text ]: A Disney princess dress arrived today. When did I order it?
[ text ]: All I have in my fridge is eggs.
[ text ]: THERE IS A STRANGER IN MY HOME and xhe is politely asking for beer.
[ text ]: All my underwear is gone.
[ text ]: I just got mistaken for a porn star.
[ text ]: Who's house am I in?
[ text ]: I've been waiting for three hours and you're still in the bathroom.
[ text ]: I have a collection of stolen doorknobs.
[ text ]: Police just asked me where you are. You should hide.
[ text ]: I think you underestimated the power of vodka. You told me that rainbows were a conspiracy.
[ text ]: I wish I was a unicorn sometimes.
[ text ]: The sky was green for like a second. fite me.
[ text ]: You were so drunk last night that you hit on your reflection.
[ text ]: I think we need to talk about last night.
[ text ]: Pack your bags. Surprise road trip.
[ text ]: Remind me to never drink again.
[ text ]: Someone stole my table and only my table.
[ text ]: There's a huge ass hole in my couch. It's bigger than my butt.
[ text ]: All my pasta is gone and I can't find it.
[ text ]: When will my dignity return from war.
[ text ]: Apparently 'mmm watcha say' isn't funny anymore.
[ text ]: In not brubk yuu ate.
[ text ]: sleap wwat evn os sleeo
[ text ]: auto cucumber is bae
What do you like? Fetish wise.
"I worry, you know?"
meme: little prompts. status: open.
A small, frustrated sigh escaped his lips. Was it because he still wasn’t behaving according to most people’s social standards? He was feeling at ease with their group of friends most of the time, though, so it couldn’t be that. Maybe it was one of Dylan’s own problems? He’d told him what was to know about Jiho, so it couldn’t be secrets Taekwoon kept himself, either.
“...you’ve got every right to do so, but not about me.” He decided on after a moment of thinking that had probably stretched a little too long.
“You’re turning my place into a pigsty!” Gretchen was furious, voice high pitched and face crinkled. “Don’t make your dumb puppy face at me! If you wanna stay, you have to clean after yourself!” She pointed to the kitchen.
“It’s nooot duuumb.....” he whined through pursed lips, still trying to persuade her by simply being cute as hell - it didn’t seem to work with her, though. “Wah, you’re scary.....” He got up to face her, sheepishly shoving his hands into his pockets. “.....I can tidy up if you wanna.....!”
MICRO EXPRESSIONS YELPED IT MOST. The faint blush on his cheeks roar the internals of his youth; Kyungpyo fancied the image as his dark brown orbs pinned at the younger. Only for a moment that he dropped his attention to the suitcase, metallic and chilled from the night. Tapped of his leather shoes rang in between them as the part time businessman marched close to the delivery boy. His hands kept inside his coat pocket, waiting for the perfect time.
❝Who say’s I’m trying to convince you?❞ Mere test of the water, an opportunity to change his mind. He surrendered the suitcase to the younger, like a short toss of the heavy luggage whilst hitting the shorter man. Afterwards, he picked up a thick envelop of money from his pocket, and this time he calmly handed it to the lad. ❝Here’s a half, if you fuck this up I’ll take your life as collateral. If you performed well, you may get a thicker cash.❞
RECEIVING THE SUITCASE, he ‘oofed’ quietly and had to regain his balance for a moment. It was way heavier than he’d expected, which made him all the more curios about that was inside. Shifting his weight, he held it with one hand, taking the envelope with the other. If he took both and ran, maybe-- oh.
“.....my life??” If that wasn’t a serious threat, what was? Heart pounding he decided that if this was how tough this business was, he decided that he had to toughen up as well, straightening his posture as he slowly regained the usual easiness with which he faced all things in life. “Sure.” He added, tongue flickering over his chapped lips for a moment. “I’ll be good. There’s no way I’m fucking this up, Sir, no one suspects a thing from someone like me.”
— ᴡᴏʀᴅʟᴇss ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀs .:.
aryasel:
{ —“ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇ quiet?” Beomseok practically hisses under his breath. He’s already fed up with this continuous babbling and it’s only been one full day. twenty-four hours of never ending nagging that’s driving him towards his own edges. His patience ran out long ago, and by now the blood that stands still in his veins is practically boiling. His fingers have curled into white knuckled fists, jaw tense and expression stern. Usually when he tells ghosts to back off, they do. This one isn’t budging, no matter the means Beomseok uses to make him leave. He’s staying, and he’s making it more than a little obvious. Leading to the current moment, on the subway. There is meaning behind the words that continuously spew from the ghost’s mouth. And abiding his will seems to be the only way for Beomseok to actually make him go away. So there he is, on the subway. Sitting next to a complete stranger that the ghost hidden to the human eye wants him to speak with. It is more than a little bit strange, all of this. The way it affects him too. Usually, Beomseok is not the type to become pliant to a spirit’s will. It makes him more stingy than most day, in combination with lack of rest and one small thing can easily make him snap.
It takes another few moments, ten minutes to be exact. The he’s had enough, fed up with the echoing voice spreading like smoke through the unsuspecting crowd. He turns his head, brows lowered as he prods a finger against the male’s side. He has never seen him before, and this is probably even more out of line to him that it is to Beomseok. But at least the older isn’t ashamed. After six centuries with this “gift” as some call it, he has done worse. See worse. Heard worse.
“Please tell your dead boyfriend to shut the fuck up.”
The sentence is practically wheezed into the male’s ear, voice laced with frustration and nostrils flaring. Pale features of the deceased look more than a little bit shocked. Perhaps they’re about to realize they chose the wrong messenger. He doesn’t even bother to stay for that much longer, rising from his seat as soon as the train rolls into the next station, preparing to get off. If this is going to take place, it’s by his rules. Not the ghost’s, not the stranger’s.
Aryasel’s own rules.
Breath, by breath.
Word after word.
@blxssomtears
Taekwoon hated taking the subway for various reasons. It was loud, crowded, and slow. Sometimes, drunk people would enter and make the drive to wherever he wanted to get hell, and he was under the permanent threat of someone talking to him. Headphones plopped in, he managed to block out most of the noise people would make, but whenever someone came in close, he tuned the volume down as much as possible so he’d hear if they were talking to or about him and so that they wouldn’t hear exactly what he was listening to. The same is the case with a guy who sits down near him and who’s mere presence is making Taekwoon uncomfortable. His worst fears come true when he’s actually talking to him, and he needs a moment to overcome the initial shock and process what he just said -- dead boyfriend?? The nervousness he felt churns into something much more sickening, making his stomach turn. How would a stranger he just met know that? And what did he mean, shut up? He was dead. Gone, but so very alive in his head, so alive in each of the steps he made and each of the songs he wrote, so alive that he drowned out all the people that were really living. Still, there was no way a stranger would know of the accident, and of his loss, since it was two years ago and all the people he’d been friends with back then had distanced themselves from him. Taekwoon doesn’t want to feel hope that very moment, it makes him feel naive and childish, but he wants to know what the stranger meant, so he pushes himself upright just as the doors open and presses outside with all of the others who got out at the stop, quickly moving to find the stranger.
“What do you mean, shut up?” He asks quietly once he stands at his side, forgetting all of his usual shyness as he faces him immediately, trying to catch his gaze. “How do you know?”
pxkasher:
Wiggling his nose at the sound, he was thankful it din’t get any louder. Looking back up at the taller fellow, he scratched his head, blinking several times. Little did Asher know that someone like him would be afraid of thunder. Everyone has their own fears after all. Unsure if the other was talking to him or not, he looked out again and huffed. “I’m not scared. You should tell yourself that.” He din’t mean to sound rude or anything. And to make up for it, he turned his head towards the other and smiled.
That comment made Taekwoon frown. So rude, but so cute, it seemed to be in fashion for the younger folks to be like that these days -- he would have mused about it a little futher, if another roll of thunder wouldn’t have made him wince, his heart taking root in his chest as it was beating quicker and quicker. No, no, not in front of this kid... He exhaled heavily, already raising his hands to press them against his ears to block out the sounds, but them lowered them again as he remembered his company. “...I’m not scared either...” He murmured almost inaudibly, telling himself that more than he told the boy.
We both know it is too tempting to leave a trail wherever you go: an echo into the dark screaming ‘I was here, I was here and I took in as much as I could.‘
Schuyler Peck, excerpt from Where He Leaves His Heart (via daisylongmile)
& help me sing a lullaby.
vrscflwr
Taekwoon had been more than happy to comply when his elder sister proposed that he may take care of his baby nephew for a few days because she wanted three days off for a couple holiday with her husband. He was crazy about his little nephew, never wanted to stop playing with and singing to him anyway, even looking at him made him smile. It went exactly the way he’d expected once the little one had been dropped off in his flat, except that his sister insisted that Chaton may stay away from him because she ‘might sit down on little Heechul’s face’ which was completely stupid, but he locked him into the bedroom anyway. Four hours into his first day of baby sitting, though, his nephew started crying. He did everything he knew that might calm a baby down, but.......... nothing worked. Hours passed, and the little one wouldn’t stop crying. Maybe he just misses his mother and really doesn’t like you... the unhappy uncle thought, a massive headache having formed from the noises. Another hour passed and his arms were numb from carrying him up and down. He couldn’t do this. Feeling like he was going to cry himself, he was about to dial his sister’s number and tell her to come back from her holiday because he wasn’t capable of this, but just when he wanted to press call, his eyes fell on somebody else’s number. The waiter from the café. The one with the soothing aura. Without thinking much, he called them instead, relieved when there was a dial tone rather than a ‘number unavailable’.
She hesitated before raising her eyes to give him the proper eye contact. Goodness knows she had already gotten enough lip about her focus that day, so she wasn’t going to break it now. Her bottom lip was bitten, in the process of being nibbled as she gave him her full attention. Mikiyo wasn’t a very good English speaker, although she was very good at speaking Japanese as well as Korean- but she was a good listener. She could absorb information well, but she had her limitations. People were just very rude for some reason here. She nodded, understanding where he was coming from. It offended her in the smallest way, but she tried to materialize as much backbone as she could. “So.. do I quit yet? Please tell me .Or should I file a report of some kind?”
“....quitting seems a bit hurried...” Taekwoon murmured softly, his mind raking over the possibilities the woman had in her current situation. “Ah, maybe...” he added shyly, intently hoping that his idea was a correct assumption. “Maybe it’s a matter of age. You know how with age, you gain respect. I would recommend hanging in there a little longer, and proof your worth at each opportunity you get. Once they acknowledge you, it will become easier... also, do after work acitivities if you can, even if it’s bother some...” He paused, tongue wetting his lips. “....fighting.”
