artblock.

[seolhyejeong]

180607 nagyung - dkdk

[csvikki-blog]

Damn, it’s cold

[cseleanor]

csvikki‌:

(...)

“I told you not to stay up too late last night” she scolded around a mouthful of food - examining Eleanor’s face for any bags and wrinkles to give away any lack of sleep. 

"i'm no genius but I'm pretty sure that's not how it works. if anyone slips and falls in that tiny puddle, you'd definitely put the blame on me- and don't you deny it." she points at vikki with feign suspicion as she approaches, but it wasn't long until a pout replaces her previous expression when she was robbed of the croissant that was never hers but have felt a deep connection with.

struggling to open the chocolate milk, even after twisting the cap with her pajamas, she sets her drink in front of the other wordlessly asking for help. while waiting, eleanor digs into the bag once more, fishing out a blueberry muffin and, while maintaining eye contact, slowly took it out of the small plastic bag and took a rather hesitant bite, checking her friend's expression as she does so. "i guess this is mine, then." she chimes through a mouthful, making grabby fingers for her drink.

"i'm sick and tired of your lies." she fake sobs through another bite, humming in delight afterwards. "hey, don't blame me. I'm merely a victim of cliffhangers, and before I knew it, it was three in the morning. and you're one to talk, miss i'm-too-cool-for-bedtimes."

[csvikki-blog]

Damn, it’s cold

[cseleanor]

csvikki‌:

“You’re worried about the food! I could’ve gotten frost bite! A minute longer and I would’ve been apart of a live action Frosty the Snowman remake!” her voice loud and complaining, just as usual. She’d been able to keep the same tone of childlike whining throughout the years despite being the elder of the two.

Side stepping Eleanor she shook out her green tinged hair in the direction of the younger girl in an attempt to get melted snow on her as she shimmied around to get warm - along to remove any snow left on her. Closing the door with her elbow she would poach over the bag into Eleanor’s hands as she began to shed off her outer layers. 

“There’s a bottle of chocolate milk in there for you - though its probably a little warm by now.” She would say this offhandedly as if discussing the weather - while Vikki had been known for her brash nature and aloofness. She always had shown a level of thoughtfulness to her childhood friend, whether picking out items she thought the younger woman girl would like or going as far as to getting her her favorite food or drink whenever she was around.

"of course i'm worried about the food, i'm starving!" she continues her jest, all the while attempting (and failing) not to let a laugh slip between and past each words. eleanor's more than acquainted with vikki's loud demeanor, which is exactly why she convinced her to move in today, of all days, when their housemates weren't home.

a small yelp escapes her, somehow not anticipating the childish act from the other, earning a hit on the shoulders from a shuddering eleanor. "you are so petty!" she laughs, helping pat off the remaining snow on her clothes before she accepts the bag, keeping it close to her.

"you've only been here for a literal minute and we already made a mess." her eyes trail away from the wet spots by the door, jotting a mental reminder to clean that up later, as she makes her way to the dining area and sets their breakfast down. an exaggerated gasp, followed by the rustling of paper bag fills the empty air upon hearing those magical words. "have I ever told you how much I love you?"

[cseleanor]

as spry as springtime.

[cseleanor]

mijacs‌:

ignorance truly is a bliss. had she realized that for herself once mountains of flowers in different varieties line her vision, evidently she trembles at the lack of mundane things that cease to draw her attention. if she would’ve paid more attention to the many bouquet of flowers she received after every performance then she wouldn’t be scowling behind elenor in a current midlife crises. would the younger female expect her to know the beauty underlying crafts? perhaps not, yet mija could spend an hour or two out of her days to no be so oblivious.

her thoughts are buried and a careful gaze lingers towards the back of elenor’s head in complete awe. she wouldn’t regret this, most definitely would never when she could take a learning experience out of this rather than everything being handed to her out of the palms of others.

jaw slack— confusion laced in her features, brows furrowed together and her orbs trace back and forth over the beautifully blossomed plants. “ best in the city? i didn’t even know it existed, honestly… “ clueless is the current state of her mind but doubles soon after syllables said before roses register into her thought process, “ lenten roses? i’ve always just identified roses by their color, not the breed name. but what would i know? “ a sheepish giggle falls from her lips, dripping onto the roses of colors she’s not able to name. “ what…? should i know how to cut flowers? “

common knowledge to eleanor could be a new experience to others, and that’s something she tends to forget, especially when she’s deep within her territory. right now, she’s in the middle of it, in both metaphorical and literally sense of the word. that being said, she isn’t one to ridicule, nor see anyone less for their lack of botanical knowledge, since she herself lacks involvement in a lot of other things.

a small fit of laughter passes between her lips at the older girl’s comment, informing her that this isn’t the first time she’s heard that in an attempt to ease guilty thoughts, if there were any. “as do i. but there are different types of roses that share similar colors, which is why they’re named accordingly.” she explains, beckoning mija come closer, the front seat to her impromptu lesson. “lenten roses varies in colors, from dark purple to pink to white, and look nothing like the roses shown in movies when some guy’s trying to win a girl’s heart.” she snorts, continuing “their petals are widely spread, enough that you can see the anthers, while plain roses are tightly bundled, kind of like you’re doing duck lips.” puckering her lips for demonstration, she turns to the other girl looking like that. “like this~”

scissors in hand, she crouches low enough to find an angle she deems perfect for cutting, demonstrating the way she holds it. “sharp scissors is the key! or a knife, but.. i don’t trust myself with one.” a giggle “if we use a dull tool, the cells will get squished and won’t be able to take up water, or the flower will shrivel and die. so, no pressure when its your turn.” eleanor teases, grinning up at her from where she’s crouched. “i’m only kidding, of course! i’ll do the cutting.” once she’s gathered enough, she hands a wooden bucket she prepared earlier to mija, carefully placing their hand-picked selection. 

“do you have any preference for which flowers you’ll be using, by the way? if you can’t think of a name, a color would do! vibrant colors are popular for flower pressing, but that’s all up to each person’s taste, really.”

[csvikki-blog]

Damn, it’s cold

[cseleanor]

csvikki‌:

Early mornings were never really Vikki’s thing but the idea of having to deal with the other house-mates drove her out of bed this morning.

Brown eyes lifted as she sneered up at the sky as tiny flakes of snow began to fall from the sky, a moment prior she had sent a text to Ele to let her in. Her car parked behind her and packed to the brim with all of her ‘essentials’ which mostly comprised of an overwhelming amount of black clothing and weird nick-knacks.

In one hand she was holding a warm cup of coffee with her phone pressed against it while her other hand held a brown bag filled with their breakfasts. The warmth radiating from the bag and coffee keeping her hands warm despite the falling snow.

Vikki: “wake up hoe i got breakfast and im freezing my ass off outside can you PLEASE let me in.”

Eleanor had always scolded her for using 'foul’ language and never saying please or thank you - a minor annoyance but one Vikki would accept nonetheless.

with late autumn sharpening and sliding into winter, eleanor found herself comfortable under the warm blankets of her bed, despite having been awake for the past hour or so. she absolutely, without a doubt, love the chill that comes with the season, but her body rebels against her, claiming otherwise. the young girl has always been intolerant to the cold weather, sensitive to even the smallest drop of temperature, and yet has the nerve to enjoy it, no matter state she ends up being later.

the incoming message on her phone prompted eleanor to slip out of bed and into her slippers, taking her time to move downstairs in some sort of punishment for her friend's lack of common manners, but not too slow to reward her rare use of 'please'. upon reaching the front door, she opens it just enough to stick her head out, bedhead meeting her friend's, eyes scoping in on what's occupying her arms.

"you brought food!" finally opening the door wide, she feels herself shiver under the cold winter breeze. "hurry up inside, vik. the food will get cold!"

[neetols]

[cseleanor]

as spry as springtime.

@mijacs

flowers and friends, two of eleanor’s favorite...f things. when she moved to sinchon, she didn’t have many friends, what with the language barrier and cultural differences from when she grew up in new york, it was difficult for her to adapt. her plants were her sole companion, and as she made and lost friends, grew in and out of phases, they remained constant. 

she finds herself occupied with both. there’s a certain spring in her step as she makes her way down the path of beautifully kept flowers, but not so much as to leave mija behind. the other had inquired eleanor regarding her crafts, and although she only asked to be taught how to make pressed bookmarks, she brought it upon herself to start from the very beginning of the process: flower picking.

”this farm is the best in the city,” she says with a cheeky grin “i mean, it’s one of two, and i haven’t been to the other one...” a laugh leaves her curled lips, halting in her steps, short of a dramatic gasp. “lenten roses! i’ve never seen pink ones before, this is wonderful!” eleanor turns to the older girl, snipping air with scissors in hand. “do you know how to properly cut flowers?”

[cseleanor]

" d' ya know what this shirt is made of, eleshunechka ? " there's a pause (purely present for dramatic effect, for he's certain she already / knows / what he's about to voice next) and then the boy smiles (a genuine thing / a rarity) finally comes the punchline: " boyfriend material ! "

although she knows the easy way out of most things sacha does is to ignore him and pretend she hasn’t heard anything at all, eleanor finds herself humoring the boy more often than she would admit. hence the gasp that follows his punchline, both fists clutching her shirt, as if struck with the most sensible, romantic pick-up line yet, mock swooning. “and how am i supposed to know it’s authentic? would you be willing to prove it, sachan?”

[cseleanor]

wayfinding.

[cseleanor]

cssacha‌:

(...)

“  of course, your efforts shan’t remain unrewarded.  “

his words echoes true to her ears, full lips shapes a pout in petulant displeasure at his first few words, not the biggest fan of that look on his face- never really was. if possible, she would have wiped it off, a clean slate, but instead she finds herself drawn in, as if she were stuck on autopilot and the only safe direction is towards him.

no matter how vague of a word it is, progress is good, beneficial to her ego and satisfies eleanor's need to improve. so she takes it. she takes it well and into heart, trying not to smile so much as to show her raw, pure elation. "thank you." she says, softly this time, matching the gentleness in her expression. she doesn't avert eye contact, rarely ever does, peering at the pair of dark hues with the fondest of countenance. "i'll improve some and study for the next one.."

words seem to leave her, trailing off at the last syllable upon noticing their close proximity, the only difference this holds from earlier is that he's able to see the blush creep from her cheeks to every inch of her ears. she says nothing, can't find the right set of words to say should she say anything at all, so she remains silent, stiff. 

she tilts her head, eyes still on him but with a newfound glint of excitement at the mention of a reward. she shifts a little, unconsciously leaning closer, former thoughts gone down the drain just like that. “you prepared something, sacha? should i close my eyes?” lids shut tight the same second she inquires.

[cseleanor]

wayfinding.

[cseleanor]

cssacha‌:

(...)

in every memory eleanor stands close, polished lines and steady eyes, immaculate design; more alive than all of sacha put together. she is perfect symmetry. marble in eternal repose, but that’s not what makes her beautiful.

her response is but a soft, quiet hum, afraid that any more than that would rid of her concentration, would distract her eyes from the flow of notes it follows. she feels her shoulders relax, albeit a tad bit disappointed at the absence of warmth on her back, released into a freefall as the melody crests into a crescendo, swift fingers trails along and in tune, in harmony with every press of black and white keys, surprising herself.

for every rise and fall of the piece, her shoulders ever so slightly follows. lips being unconsciously chewed on, some bad habit she’s had and couldn’t correct, especially when absorbed in something completely. she isn’t perfect, and is painfully aware of it, the hitch in her breath making her mistake an obvious one, despite it being a second at most. 

the song ends and every tension in her body disperse, leaving eleanor a husk, fingers still on the last keys. “we did it!” she announces seconds later, still in light disbelief that she’s able to finish the later half on her own. “i’m ready for my assessment, sir!” she’ll give him that, she thought, as some verbal present for allowing her the opportunity to learn. although infrequent, she has brazen moments.

”wait,” she puts a palm up against his chest, for dramatics. “i’d like to request a sugar-coated version.” she says, shaking her head almost immediately, changing her mind completely. “actually, just do an honest hit-and-run. i have health insurance.”

[cseleanor]

csarom‌:

i ducking love you ft. @cseleanor​

“it suits you.” there is fondness that she carries in her voice as arom holds up her most recent work against the loose tendrils of eleanor’s hair. the earrings glint nicely through their newly-painted acrylic gloss, and pride swells from within her again as she recalls finding the duck trinkets in a dusty jewelry box, hidden amidst other unwanted treasures, at the flea market they have several streets away from her apartment complex during weekends. ”it’ll look cute with a half-updo,” she says this while running her fingers through eleanor’s hair, letting its soft waves brush against her palm, “but a ponytail works too.” a pause, as arom stands back to admire the latter. large eyes curving slightly, she is clearly pleased with what she’s laying her eyes upon. “you’re going to look twice as adorable with these on.” a hearty laugh fills the air as arom giddily saunters over closer, pushing the earrings into eleanor’s hands. gaze meeting hers, arom squeezes her hands in a gentle reassurance, “consider this a gift from me, for helping me out last time.” 

it’s not that eleanor doesn’t care about what she wears. on the contrary, she enjoys wearing fun outfits. it’s just, it was just that: fun. fashion trends and fads aren’t something she spends a lot of time obsessing over, but that isn’t to say the young girl doesn’t appreciate it any less. if anything, she’s grown into it over time, especially when she surrounds herself with trend savvy friends.

“hmm?” her hum came soft, inquiring, careful to keep herself steady as not to ruin anything the other has been working on for the past few minutes (though to eleanor, it felt longer). she gasps as her eyes land on the earrings that sits on the palm of her hands, wide eyes seeking arom’s for an explanation, all the while testing them on.

”you think so?” she fiddles with the piece of jewelry dangling from her ears, taking a glance at herself from the vanity mirror. “these are so cute!” a thrilled squeal, eyes crinkle with delight as she turns her head to her companion. “are you sure? ‘cause i might just cry.”

eleanor spreads her arms out, wiggling her fingers as a gesture for the other girl to come closer, bringing her in a hug from where she’s still seated. “thank you. i’ll treasure them forever!”

[cseleanor]

wayfinding.

[cseleanor]

cssacha‌:

(...)

“  perspective’s always key.  “  especially in regards to himself, the boy of polarities. an enigma, contradiction, and his father’s son … perhaps this is why he takes no offense to her pronouncement, for he knows this should be the case. he breathes a quiet laugh; says, very softly and earnestly,  “  i must remember these things. you are my star student, your education is my covet responsibility.  “  leans back into her wake, grants her propensity to read the notes once over and positions himself behind her; takes the girl’s right hand, enfolds it gently, carefully, and guides it to the keys; sacha lingers on each knuckle, openly reverent. her hair tickles the hollow beneath his adam’s apple and the very last of his coherence scatters like dead leaves in october. he works his jaw, attempts to summon the right words, something smooth and sure, but her proximity throws him off-balance, burns a hole into him. he startles, feels cold, then hot, then something else — a lush trembling, a heady mixture of joy and fear. ultimately decides against any utterance, and begins to apply pressure to individual digits; the pads of her fingers to black keys as his free hand manoeuvres around her figure and smoothly gathers left palm, applying eleanor’s dactyls to the white of middle c.

her own words weren't supposed to backfire and have his counter pierce through several line of defenses, ignoring her ribcage and directly aims straight for the young girl's already rapidly beating heart. she's a fool to think they're way past surprises. clearly, sacha's unpredictable nature is something she hasn't gotten used to yet—or maybe she's not supposed to, at all, despite eleanor believing so otherwise.

"master's a bit much, i'd have to be a pet for that, no?" the idea of a student-master being an actual thing evaded her mind that’s so obviously deep in the gutter; cheeks a flush of red, refusing to steal a glance, refusing to feed the curiosity of seeing what kind of shit-earing grin he has plastered on, she moves on "have you finally gone crazy?" honestly speaking, she wouldn't be all that surprised if that were the case, and from her recent reactions, involuntary or not, she might as well be acquainted with madness herself.

she beams, all bright, genuine delight as she claps for herself after hearing him call her his star student (albeit being aware she’s his only student) —a stark contrast to the staidness and pose she adjusts to when she felt slender fingers on top of her own. she’s calm, or at least she hopes she appears to be, conscious to any movement she might make, so she stills.

achingly morose notes echoes off oaken walls, only to be heard by the two. sacha played with skill and emotion, the raw kind that could be felt in the quiver of every note, and eleanor does her best not to stay behind the melody. she plays with lips pursed, focus on the music sheet and definitely not at the warmth on her back from their close proximity, pressure building in her chest; a pressure that has a vague, distinctive source and particular reason.

[cseleanor]

wayfinding.

[cseleanor]

cssacha‌:

(...)

he leans past her and shuffles through the manuscripts,  “  what do you think of clair de lune, eleshunechka?  “

she musters a laugh, all too natural, something that came as a package with the comfort of knowing she could be herself in his orbit, much like he is in hers. “sadly, i’m well acquainted with it.” her teasing matches the crinkle of her nose, feigning distaste. there has been one too many times where she finds herself dragged around by sacha’s reckless abandon, and the thing is, she lets him.

“of course!” her voice itches of mild offense, following a soft yet disappointed hmph. “this is my one chance to be an ace student, you know. you stripped me off of that could have been my proudest moment.” a fake sob, “how are you gonna make it up to me,” —she hesitates, but decides to own up to the little roleplay she somehow started— “professor?”

the second their pinky interlocks and thumbs touch, she makes a gesture of pressing her thumb against his with a little more force than she initially did, pushing his down with her knuckles before completely letting go. “i’ve learned to filter your words and translate it into positive reinforcement.” eleanor smiles, proud of a half-truth half-lie she just came up with on the spot. 

where the sudden warmth in the very pit of her stomach came from is unbeknownst to eleanor. though she assumes it’s the late realization of how intimate the idea of having him in closer quarters— even more so than how they usually are— after he mentions guiding her. which is weird for her to be conscious about, out of nowhere and all of a sudden, specially when this is a favor she personally asked him.

so, much like every other thought she deems inconvenient and unlike her, she aims a dart at her board of rationality, ruling the aggressive pounding of her heart as performance anxiety. that sounds about right. she nags at herself to concentrate, to ignore the heat traveling to her ears when she agrees to his suggestion. “mhm,” the corners of her lips curl upwards, leaning her head on his broad shoulders. “you remember~ pacing...has proved itself to be an avid eleanor hater time and time again.”

“a beautiful piece. nostalgic.” she swings her locked feet together, leaning forward to look over his shoulder. “is that what you have for today?”

[cseleanor]

fort night.

@soojincs

the first thing eleanor feels is the warmth of the morning sun on her face, reaching her even behind closed lids. she stretches in the cosy nest of her sheets, feeling the satisfying pop of her joints as she gives out a small, yet happy noise. class isn't a problem for her today, and neither is work, so she had the freedom to choose how her day is going to be, and eleanor could not think of a better person to go to other than her best friend. soojin already said yes to her sleepover proposal the night before, and even without eleanor selling the idea of doing each other's nails and watching terrible 2008 teen romcoms, she knows she would have agreed either way.

food, she decides, is the first task of the day. well, second, if you count her convincing herself to roll out of bed. she heads to the kitchen after sending soojin a good morning text, reminding her of their plan, and telling her that she'll be making breakfast for her as well, despite it being almost noon. she grabs some milk and eggs and flour and soon had waffles going in the cast-iron stove-top press she shares with her housemates, and bacon crackling away in a pan. while it cooks, she busies herself setting out butter, syrup, and sugary toppings- knowing all too well how her friend loves sweets as much as she does.

two plates are set on the counter next to half-filled glasses of milk and a set of utensils. once she's done serving breakfast and making sure the stove has been safely turned off, eleanor hops on one of the tall stools to take a photo of her presentation, half proud.

sms ✉ chuujin♡⤑ [image attached.jpg]                                 your waffles and i are waiting for youuu~

[fromisnet]

🙂😊😫😆

[candyredterezii]

yeah, I’m an art student. *slurps up acrylic paint out of it’s tube like it’s go-gurt.*

[cseleanor]

wayfinding.

[cseleanor]

cssacha‌:

(...)

something coy settles in his smile, he speaks with no filter and oft he finds the consequence is not what he anticipates. he knows better as he’s learned the hard way. still, mindless jest laces timbre,  “ let’s say i did care — and i was taking attendance, does that mean you’re asking for a teachers’ punishment..? “  vocalisation is instantaneously followed by what sounds like a barely suffocated giggle.

although she spends quite a large sum of her day with the other on a regular basis, she can’t help but want to squeeze herself in every tick of the clock on their allotted time together, even to the very last second. for what reason? she doesn’t know herself yet. what she does know, however, is that her steps took her faster to him than it had anywhere else. she’s all smiles, but when is she not, especially in his presence. 

eleanor takes a seat on the stool, but not before she carefully places her belongings on the back foot of the piano. her eyes fall on the black and white keys before her, fingertips ghosting over each one as she recalls the tutorials she watched beforehand that somehow buried themselves in the very back of her head. she isn’t musically illiterate, no, she knows how to read her notes and measures, but hands-on is a different story.

much like any other time, she finds herself drawn back to reality by sacha’s voice. she leans close, to hear him better, regretting the decision the moment he finished talking. “w-what?” she’s flustered, caught off-guard with her cheeks a shade of pink. she needs to find her bearing and fast. 

“you mean...like detention?” good save. “don’t be silly.. if anything, you should be punished! what’s up with that sudden message? you should have told me sooner so i could have studied a bit more.” a pout now resides on her face, jabbing a finger repeatedly on his side. “promise me you won’t laugh if i mess up” narrowed eyes turn to crescents when she lifts up a pinky, playfully wiggling. “okay?”