Haru Haru.

Rebel Princess. Homeroom B. Dorm 5B. Show me some fun, and I'll show you the world. ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

[eunjungxbw]

(I need more plots before I'm inactive, omf--

And I have to reply to Hyomin's message--

So, if you'd like to plot, please like this.)

[inboxideas]

Window/Seasonal Meme

❂   - You’re character throwing a snowball at mine

♨   - You’re character drops hot chocolate on mine

❖ - My character gets yours a gift

✣ -My Character [accidentally] meets you’rs under the mistletoe

❊ - My character finds yours lost in a snowstorm

♥ - A drabble of our characters cuddling and watching holiday movies

〇- A Drabble about Our Characters building a snowman

〷 - A drabble about our Our Characters  shopping from presents

[diosaperdida]

[hello-fuck-it]

[eunjungxbw]

Accidental Intimidation

[yixingbw]

 It had become something of a constant in his life, this coffee shop—or Starbucks, rather, seeing as that was it’s proper title. Though it wasn’t able to offer him the same form of comfort as Newsprint could, nor would it ever surround him with the silence that he had long since come to love - sound in its purest form; golden and blissful, yet all the while filling him to the core with an indescribable loneliness that, at times, left him feeling cold and empty - it was undoubtedly a welcome change from the dorms, where he was always left feeling suffocated by throngs of people and noise, the sound drowning out his thoughts and reverberating incessantly throughout his skull. He didn’t hate it; no, it wasn’t the worst. It also, however, wasn’t the sort of thing that he longed for and he would most definitely be fine without it in his life. Since he was unable to ‘loiter’ within the bookstore while off the clock, this would work well enough as a second choice—it was a perfectly fine runner up.

      The scents, after all, seemed nearly capable of making up for the lack of that glorious absence of sound in their own way. Aromas of various flavors of coffee wafting throughout the establishment, piercing through foggy veils of drowsiness and stress and discomfort and leaving one wrapped within an air of relaxation. Invigorating odors that brought one’s taste buds springing to life, craving the warm, rich delights that such coffees, cappuccinos, and so on held to offer. Of course, although Yixing appreciated such indulgences, it still stood that ‘nearly being capable’ of serving as an oasis from reality wasn’t quite the same as successfully providing him with one.

      Soon enough, his escape from the dorms turned sour - unsurprisingly - when a girl standing just before him in line began cursing into the cell phone that she’d held pressed against one of her ears, her displeasure with the conversation or with whom she was speaking becoming more and more apparent with each word that escaped her lips. When the device that she had been hissing furiously into was dropped onto the ground below, Yixing found himself starting at the sudden crack of metal and plastic against stone and, momentarily, his instinct to assist the unfamiliar female was left stunned. Of course, the state of paralysis was only transient and soon enough, Yixing had knelt down and grasped the now cracked device, quickly moving forward and holding it out into the direction of its owner. “Um… here—your phone."

[eunjungxbw]

Eunjung always thought it was funny. Every time someone did something out of turn, people stared. If you so much as yawned too loud, people turned to look. They couldn't hide their curiosity. Of course a fight attracted the most attention. Not that she minded. She'd rather have been known for something, than get trampled on. She always thought having some sort of reputation was better than nothing. With nothing, you were forgotten. Buried six feet under with not a record or even something scrawled on a bathroom? That was something those weirdo, brooding kids did. She wasn't one of them. She wouldn't let her life go to waste. Sitting around, wallowing in your self hatred? She couldn't stand that or people who did that. To her, they were missing out on too much of life. There was so much to do, so much to see. She would never let herself bask in even her hatred of her father. She'd hit the next club before that even happened. So thus with people staring, she flashed a coy smile. “Nothing to see here,” she declared, waving the hand that once held her cellphone. In return, she received wary, nervous nods of the head.

And then she remembered that cellphone. How many had she broken in the last year? Her uncle was going to kill her for making him waste so much money on these smart phones. But being her, she held no regrets. Only this time she wasn't going to let him purchase it. She'd raise money. How though? Working was no fun. She wasn't a people person and more often than not, the other employees were whiny, rich girls. Kind of like those preps at Bullworth. They all made her gag. So what to do, what to do. Then she realized. You live in Seoul, South Korea. Your options are practically limitless. And even she couldn't lie, she used her father's name on the streets. It got what and where she wanted without fail. Finding a way to get her hands on an Galaxy S4 or maybe the iPhone 5S didn't seem so unattainable. But first she still needed those damn espressos.

She caught only the last couple of words. Your phone. What about that piece of shit? She already knew it was broken. Someone might as well throw it out. Turning around, she glanced over the stranger. Hadn't she seem him before? Where and why? She was almost certain she had never met him before. He had an attractive enough face for her to have put a name to a face. So who was... is he? Scoffing, she took the broken phone from him. She wasn't particularly in the mood to play nice with strangers, so she curtly nodded her head, “Thanks.”

[eunjungxbw]

[eunjungxbw]

Tracker.

Status: Eating all of Yixing's typist's food. Sleeping.

Owed:

Yixing -- Para

Waiting on:

Jongsuk -- Starter

Plotting:

Hyomin

Jaejoong

Possibly others???

YOU. COME PLOT WITH ME.

[summergic]

[eunjungxbw]

Accidental Intimidation (Yixing)

Click, clack, click, clack. Her steps collided with the floor. Eunjung's head was pounding and the irritating shrieks of laughter, cell phone rings, and beeping of metal detectors weren't helping her. Even so, she held her head high. Her eyes were bloodshot, but she strode on with confidence. Hungover, she was, but that wouldn't stop the girl. She was a woman on a mission. The purpose now was to get that espresso. Or maybe five. That should cancel out however much she had drank earlier. She knew it was dangerous. But what was her life without danger? Empty, void, a shell. She thrived for excitement, so feeling like a wreck from alcohol was worth it. Besides, she smiled it away with her cocky little grin. It crept its way easily onto her visage as she shoved her way into the Starbucks. She scanned the store for a moment.

Good. Her table was free. She had staked out her territory the moment she transferred to the academy and ditched school. It was a nice, cozy spot in the far corner. She had hit and pushed everyone that dared to move her. She was almost no one called the cops, but maybe now just wasn't the time for her to go to jail. Not then, she mused, and not today. What was she doing though..? Oh, right, espresso. Shuffling into the line, she glossed over the menu for last minute decisions. A cellphone chime pulled her out of her thoughts. Who's fucking phone was ringin-- Damn, that's hers.

Scoffing, she slid it out of her jacket pocket. Bringing it to her left ear, she answered, “Hello?” If only she had checked the number. She never answered unidentifiable calls. If only she had ignored it. But the fuse was sparked. “Father?” she hissed into her phone, “Who the flying fuck in their right mind gave you my number?” She moved forward as the line progressed onwards. His answer came after her third step. Her uncle, of course. How dare he though? That stupid man knew she hated her father. Was he thinking? No, he never did. The only good thing her uncle had done was ship her off to Bullworthless, where she ran around and could do anything she wanted. After a moment she remembered the man talking. She enunciated her next words carefully, “What. The.” She longed to whip her phone across the room, but she held onto her dignity. Releasing her grip on the device, her phone fell to the ground as she finished her sentence, “Fuck.”