go down, soft sound.

i have got lost ; i am everything that has got lost.

[dawndusts-blog]

hello hi i’ve moved over here :)

[dawndusts-blog]

*whispers* not sure who follows me on here anymore but this is a thing i’ve been working on that you should check out if you’re about that #life.

[dawndusts-blog]

hey y’all -- just wanted to let everyone know that i’m still 100% alive. work has been really really difficult this past month and the worst it’s ever been this week and it’s literally impossible to find time to really sit down and finish up my drafts but i’m almost there. i really really appreciate the understanding from everyone about my absence here and just in general tbh, and hope everyone’s doing well! :) 

[dawndusts-blog]

@farawcys

“i missed you.”

they don’t speak louder than a murmur, words as soft as they are intent. and though the bar around them roars with the friday night rush, wren doesn’t see anyone but the man behind the counter. they’re content, though, to ignore the ring glinting almost tauntingly on his left hand ; the reason they’d run from seattle so quickly in the first place. there’s remorse in the gentle lines of their face, but it’s overshadowed easily by tenderness. even if they know their sudden return and immediate declaration are unfair -- presumptuous, even -- they can’t help the pull to him. they can’t help but be here. 

[theoutcall]

{‘forgets preconceived expectations that start with the pair of dark eyes & alcohol, his dropping to the punch bowl spiked with fire whiskey– curious, wondering what it’s like to be so risky even in a head boy’s position; he’s also impulsive, smile pulling at lips, tugging into a grin;} –you know Slughorn doesn’t have basic knowledge on complimentary colors. Or he probably doesn’t care– too focused on his pride and joys. {’them, it’s always been them; a band of mismatched kids with too much potential & he’s already wasting his by taking a shot. or maybe just feeding the fire when he uses a color change charm to switch clashing tapestry palette at the christmas party to muted golds and blacks; he’s already grinning, spinning around, passing a drink to the first person he sees.} Did you come alone?

[dawndusts-blog]

( she doesn’t hear him at first. in fact, iseul doesn’t hear much of anything as she fidgets near the table lined with glass bowls and bottles. she isn’t exactly a regular party-goer and despite the group’s small size, it’s already more than she can handle. music and chatter alike come in as muffled static and it’s only when his hand enters her line of vision that the noise quiets enough for her to focus. ) oh ---- thank you. ( the glass feels heavy in her palm ; foreign. and though the aroma of fruit and cinnamon helps to ease that sensation, a distinct hint of liquor follows and makes her uneasy all over again. she takes a sip all the same  -- can’t be rude, after all -- and prays her disgust doesn’t show. it’s defiant, though, turning the corners of her lips into a grimace before she can help it ;  she lifts a hand to her face to keep it hidden, feigning a cough before finally trying to answer his question. ) uh... ( cue the subconscious glance at the two people she knows in the room ; one an intimate stranger, the other no stranger to her intimacy. she nods nonetheless. ) i don’t really talk much to anyone here so, i...yes. i did. my cousin should be here shortly though. ( a pause. she appreciates the company, even if a natural shyness urges her to run the other way. here’s another sip for courage. ) did you? 

[linda-belcher]

anonymously send me a song lyric that reminds you of me

[spiritgold-blog]

HEADCANON #001.     

            though they are the vessel for over a dozen witches’ magic, wren has yet to surpass the abilities of an average witch. in fact, you could even say that, immortality aside, they are just like any other witch out there as anti-magic measures work well against them and there are clear limits to the reach of their powers. this limitation is due primarily to the fact that wren does not access much of the magic that is inside them ; rather, they make active use of the magic they were born with and that alone, allowing the rest to simply sit as was intended. it is for this reason that wren has managed to be the only vessel to survive a moon ritual – magic is attached inherently to the soul and to have other people’s magic inside of them is to literally hold pieces ( often incompatible ) of other people’s souls within their own. to unlock any part of that, even for a second, could risk them descending into madness. 

[miillennials]

*reminder*

[turbiidus]

just because i’m very slow with replies doesn’t mean i don’t care about our plot !!!

[dawndusts-blog]

a concept: first love. xavier’s, to be exact. it comes in the teens, halfway between lingering adolescence and emergent manhood, and it fucks him all the way up. it dies off, though, either right before he leaves for college ( the distance makes him nervous ) or during his first semester ( the distance makes him ache ). and they say they’ll still be friends but when does that ever really work out? anyway ---- fast forward a year or ten and he’s in seoul. probably grocery shopping and definitely in the wine aisle ; he’s stuck between red and white. a call of his name catches his attention and wow, wow, look who it is ---- the first love he may or may not have left broken. 

[sugutie]

[dawndusts-blog]

❛❛ I’m not suddenly trusting you with my heart! Or anything! ❜❜ (Hyerin to Xavier)

bitter soulmates prompts! / still accepting.

he doesn’t doubt that she’s absolutely serious —- when it comes to him, there isn’t much that hyerin struggles to be honest about —- but xavier can’t help but find her exclamation endearing all the same. the reaction to her is immediate ; it’s a quirk of full lips until his eyes are half-moons and a shift of his frame that resembles a bowing branch. this affection for her —- for what she is to him now —- comes as easy as ever. “well, that’s alright,” he offers plainly, though their proximity gives the words tenderness without his trying, “if we ever went down that road, i think it’d be better if i earned it —don’t you?” it’s hard to tell how much he means that ( and to be honest, he isn’t sure of it himself ) but the words don’t linger long enough for either of them to pose questions. his arm comes up suddenly between them, an offer to lead her on. “now, will you let me help you? the doctor’s waiting!”

[rpmememaker]

BITTER SOULMATE PROMPTS

( because the world needs more salt && complications. feel free to change up the context or pronouns! )

❛❛ No. No, no, no — you really don’t want me as a soulmate. ❜❜ ❛❛ So, you’re the unfortunate soul stuck with me. ❜❜ ❛❛ Can we just - forget about this? ❜❜ ❛❛ We’re not meant for each other. Trust me. ❜❜ ❛❛ You’re my soulmate? Wow - talk about a let-down. ❜❜ ❛❛ We were only supposed to be friends. ❜❜ ❛❛ Something’s wrong with this shit system. We are not soulmates! ❜❜ ❛❛ How is that I love them more, when you’re my soulmate? ❜❜ ❛❛ I know how you look at him - even though you’re not his. ❜❜ ❛❛ Please, believe me. You are not my soulmate. You can’t be. ❜❜ ❛❛ I don’t want a soulmate. ❜❜ ❛❛ Find someone else - I don’t need this in my life. ❜❜ ❛❛ No way - I can’t have TWO soulmates. ❜❜ ❛❛ I’m not very good with commitment, or soulmates, or love. ❜❜ ❛❛ Oh - this. This is a joke. Very funny. You can call April Fools now. ❜❜ ❛❛ I’m not good enough for you. This is wrong. ❜❜ ❛❛ Life is cruel, huh? Pairing us together like this. ❜❜ ❛❛ To think we were fated to grow old together makes my stomach turn. ❜❜ ❛❛ Why is fate such a bitch? Why are you a bitch? ❜❜ ❛❛ This wasn’t supposed to be real. It was a joke. ❜❜ ❛❛ I don’t know what’s worse. The fact you love them, or the fact I love you. ❜❜ ❛❛ I’m not suddenly trusting you with my heart! Or anything! ❜❜ ❛❛ I wish I could clean this mark off with some fate-Windex or something. ❜❜ ❛❛ Scary, right? Tied to a person you might not even know. ❜❜ ❛❛ I can’t trust you to love me. Not fully. ❜❜ ❛❛ We weren’t supposed to fall in love like this. ❜❜ ❛❛ I’m going to be frank, && say I have zero attraction to you. So this is a mistake. ❜❜ ❛❛ We’re rivals. Not soulmates. We’re supposed to be at each other’s throats. ❜❜ ❛❛ Things were better before this stupid mark, & stupid fate. ❜❜ ❛❛ I’ve tried. You can’t cut the string. I’ve tried, trust me, I’ve tried. ❜❜ ❛❛ This mark. It appeared this morning. I don’t want it - I. Don’t. Want. It. ❜❜    

[pijichu]

* JAEJIN.

[ … ]

“i’m not–” the rest of the sentence sticks in her mouth, lips pressed together as she searches for a way to properly explain herself. “i’m not mad,” comes out at last, and it’s not exactly a lie. she’s upset, disappointed, yes, but she doesn’t have the heart to venture much farther beyond that. it’s not like she’s the damn queen or anything, and they’re both adults now; childhood memories and delayed reconcilement do little to mend the gap in which they’d lost contact. but there’s a selfish part of her that had wanted to fix it– wanted him to cross the threshold and back into the world that contained the two of them. together.

“i know, but the least you could have done was call me!” as quickly as it escalates, her voice subsides into a petulant half-hearted mumble as she kicks at a loose pebble off the ground. his words– childish– rings faintly in her ears. “it just…kinda sucked to get my hopes up, y'know? i’m not mad.”

[dawndusts-blog]

“you seem mad.” for all intents and purposes, he’s still annoyed ( jaejin has never taken well to criticism ). but, somewhere between accusation and defense, his voice has lost its gruffness, become soft without his permission. and though he steels his expression to make up for it, it falls flat when he actually looks at her ; closer to dejected than peeved. 

a function of her, he imagines. or rather, them. jaejin isn’t naive enough to pretend that nothing has changed since they were last friends ; but, the more they talk, the more childhood memories seem to overwrite the person he’s become. even now, as he’s guided by frustration, he can only be mean in short spurts before affections he’d thought long lost spring anew.

and though he doesn’t mean to, jaejin lets himself fall into it heady. it allows him to pretend, even if just for a second, that they are who they were: kids with dewy eyes and rounded cheeks, companions in worlds only they could see -- best friends.

he hadn’t realized how much he missed that until she came back around.

his thoughts fracture when a car’s alarm begins blaring around the corner, drawing him forcefully out of the fantasy. and immediately jaejin stuffs his hands into his pockets and tucks his face into the collar of his coat, as though embarrassed he’d even entertained the idea. “whatever---- sorry.” he pauses then, eyes turned downwards as a weighted silence settles between them. “...i watched it online when i got back?” he doesn’t know why he felt the need to admit that and if the burn in his cheeks is anything to go by, he might even say that he regrets it. but it isn’t enough to make him run. instead, jaejin just squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head away, leaving the silence open for her to do with it what she will. 

[wnq-movies]

I think he’s very lonely. Lonelier than he lets on. Maybe lonelier than he even realizes.

The Royal Tenenbaums (2001)

[functiongirls-]

let’s go~

[dawndusts-blog]

dreamypinks:

she’s gotta call him out for that— “you’re not even trying to keep a straight face!” she waits a beat before tacking on, “you could’ve at least called so i knew you weren’t coming though, ass.”

his lips spread wider at that, growing from a grin to a full-fledged smile in an instant. and it’s the sort that curves his eyes and sets a dimple in his cheek, the sort that makes him seem almost innocent despite the conversation going somewhere far less so. “ok, that’s fair and i totally meant to ---- but then, i got really distracted really quickly. and, i mean, you’ve seen this girl, right? holy shit, e. holy shit.” 

[dawndusts-blog]

ft. night changes by one direction

dusk falls over seoul in a whisper, in a gradual, graceful bowing out that leaves pinks and oranges splashed across the horizon in haphazard patterns. and beneath that fractured sky, xavier finds himself here again --- notably, against his better judgment. attachment comes rarely — if ever — to him, but when it’s them in question, the rarity roars to reality and swallows him whole. it carves out a home in his ribcage ( their nails mark his back and bones all at once ), fills his lungs with the softness of petals ( they bloom when they kiss him ) and leaves him dazed, saved in their wake.

right now, though, they’re with him, hunched over a notebook turned to pages with more scribbles than actual substance. and from where he stands in the doorway, a damp towel about his waist, he can trace the dips and curves of their spine with only his eyes, even if the light from the bathroom just barely reaches their skin. the ridges call him back to bed, back to them and an arm loops about their middle to pull them in just enough for his lips to meet their shoulder.

the silence is comfortable, as most things are between them; but a glance out the window draws musings out of xavier before he can -- or even tries -- to stop them. “does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night changes?”

the words are half-lost in the hollows of their collarbone ; but something tells him they’ll find them all the same.