i give you my heart;

“ if nature has made you for a g i v e r, your hands are born open, and so is your heart; and though there may be times when your hands are empty, your heart is always full, and you can give things out of that — warm things, kind things, sweet things — help and comfort and laughter —and sometimes gay, kind laughter is the best help of all.”

[ghjinyoung-blog]

` I NEED U.

[ghjunyoung-blog]

ghjinyoung:

he doesn’t have to wait long for a reply, the small, familiar noise sounding from his laptop only a minute later. his heart lurches in his chest and he wonders for a moment if this was a good idea. he’s started now, so he can’t exactly stop, he wants to back out, but he also wants to see junyoung in the flesh, meet the person who’s felt like the closest to him for a long time now. for a long time he’s been the one person jinyoung felt comfortable confiding him - but now he needs physical comfort, he needs it to be so much more real.

to: jun-bug i’ll tell you in person, but yes it was me. the station near my uni? in half an hour?

he knows it’s short notice, but he also knows junyoung isn’t too far away, and that he knows where jinyoung studies. he can’t be alone for much longer before he fears he’ll go insane. the darkness in his apartment has clung to the walls since he stepped in after his weeks in captivity. it’s cold, and he can’t seem to bring himself to eat any of the canned food he has in his cupboards, or even the cup ramen. 

to: jun-bug i know it’s short notice, but i need you.

it’s unlike him to think of himself, but maybe he isn’t himself anymore. maybe the person he was before died that day he wad kidnapped.

his heart sinks in his chest when jinyoung confirms his fears. what have you been through, jin? are you okay? junyoung has never been the victim of kidnapping, but he’s read the horror stories. he’s heard the worst, of people being kept against their wills for years, decades even, and some part of him is relieved that his friend wasn’t one of those super long term cases. at least he’s safe now, though the emotional and mental trauma is something that jun doesn’t expect to ever be able to fully understand.

[ msg to: jinyoungie ] ;;;;;;;; [ msg to: jinyoungie ] i’ll be there asap

as soon as he presses send on the message he’s already shuffling his way over to the door shrugging on a jacket and tugging shoes onto his feet. his friend needs him, and nothing else is even close to holding a flame to the importance that junyoung is there for a boy he’s never even met in person before.

the commute is rather uneventful, but it feels like a short eternity as junyoung bounces his foot impatiently, or drums his fingers on his own thigh in nervousness. he’s never seen jinyoung in person before, but he’s less concerned about that than the tone of the messages. he pulls out his phone, reading through them again. jinyoung doesn’t sound okay. he’s not sure what he can do about that, but he’ll do whatever he possibly can.

he arrives a couple minutes early to the place they had agreed to meet, and junyoung scans the face of each passing person carefully. one of these is going to be jinyoung, and he’s not going to miss him.

[ghxmyungsoo-blog]

`river styx

[ghxmyungsoo-blog]

the fear in junyoung’s eyes is contagious, and myungsoo can feel his own hands begin to tremble. he doesn’t understand, can’t fathom what he’s supposed to do. surely, mother didn’t send him into this ring to be killed, and yet there’s no way she would want him to end the life of this ghoul either. the crowd grows more impatient by the second, already high on the thrill of the fight before theirs, expecting something bigger and better and bloodier. but myungsoo can’t deliver, not like this. he simply doesn’t know how. 

even if he were to lift his weapon to strike his opponent, he would very likely not live to tell the tail, all too aware of how powerful a ghoul can be. they are the superior species, equipped by nature to overpower his kind. he is a lamb with a neck made to be crushed between the jaws of a lion. he has no business fighting someone so far above him on the food chain.

“i c-” he starts, to himself, to no one in particular. it’s nearly silent in comparison to the din of the audience, “i can’t-”

and it’s true. he physically cannot bring himself to raise his weapon against junyoung. dread wells up in him, because if he does not fight, he fails. he will be punished, severely, no doubt. the panicked nausea in his core only worsens at the thought of what mother will do to him if he leaves this ring without spilling any blood, tightens when he imagines what might happen if he does spill blood, the blood of a ghoul. unacceptable. forbidden. impossible.

he continues to search the pulsing crowd, his breathing short and painful, a single droplet of sweat making its way past the corner of his right brow. i can’t, he says again, and again. i can’t. i can’t. i-

he thinks he sees a figure moving through the audience, piercing the dense crowd like a knife, though they all look the same in their horrifying faceless cloth masks. they are living mummies screaming for his blood, but somehow he thinks he hears one of them utter that single familiar word.

hopscotch.

whether or not he imagined it or whether someone really had shrieked his trigger across the ring didn’t matter. the switch in his brain was instantaneous. his gaze darkened, his stance shifted, he locked on to his target with no regard for his surroundings. he was a machine, armed and ready to kill.

he charged, eyes glassy, expression. he charged with all his might with murder in his eyes, the first swing of his quinque blade drawing a deafening roar from the crowd.

[ghjunyoung-blog]

his head swivels side to side in the slightest of shakes, soft little ‘no’s whispered under his breath as if repeating the word and action will make it true. no, this is not real. no, this is just a bad dream. no, junyoung doesn’t have to hurt myungsoo. no one is going to die here, no one is going to get hurt.

but part of him knows that despite his denial of the situation, nothing is going to change the reality. his mind has a hard time coping with it, with marrying his wishful thoughts with the actuality that is happening around him. he chokes down a sob, refusing to cry in front of so many people. people who want him dead or want him to kill. some part of him knows that if he betrays such emotional weakness now it may as well seal his fate as the loser, the dead or worse.

and junyoung doesn’t want to die. he’s terrified of the idea.

he doesn’t hear the same word myungsoo does. or maybe he hears it, somewhere in the clamor of voices, but it doesn’t have the meaning to him that triggers something in his friend-- no, his opponent. but he sees the shift in the other boy, and his breath catches. something is wrong, suddenly he’s not sure if he’s looking at the same person who was his friend at all.

junyoung jumps away from myungsoo’s swipe in the nick of time, though he’s shaking in fear and the roar of a bloodthirsty crowd has only become ringing in his ears. “myungsoo--” his voice cracks and the name comes out as hardly more than a squeak. he’s not going to fight back; he doesn’t know how to hurt someone he cares about. but his friend is attacking him and he doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to stop him.

[ghxmyungsoo-blog]

`river styx

@ghjunyoung

his stomach is full of the meal mother had dropped off for him, a plate piled high with proteins and greens that he could eat with his hands, even though, as she’d observed, his hands were filthy. he was so hungry he hardly even stopped to chew, paid no mind to the fact that it was very likely human meat he was digging into. it’d never bothered him, a boy raised to consider his own race inferior and without any morals against filling his stomach with the same type flesh that held up his own skeleton.

his stomach is full and turning unpleasantly as they tug him into a simple long-sleeved tee the color of bone, shove him out of his musty cell and closer to the distant roaring of an insatiable crowd. it’s all familiar, save for the cell, the dark hallway, the plain clothing. it’s those details that cause the hairs on his arms to stand up, to bring a chill to his spine. he hasn’t seen her since his surprise meal, was given no advice except to make her proud, to fight and kill like he always does. he doesn’t like the feeling of strangers flanking him on either side, doesn’t like the way their hands dig into his arms with a certain painful carelessness. he can feel the points where his skin will turn brown and green, will tease at his favorite shade of blue but won’t ever actually get past a muddy shade of purple. mother hates when his skin is anything but smooth, cream, flawless. he’ll be punished for this for sure.

the put a weapon in his hand and he stares at it as if it materialized out of thin air, thinks maybe they’ve made a mistake because he has no business wielding anything of this size, of this majesty. they shove him forward again, guide him to what he can only assume is an arena. the smell of blood hangs in the air like smoke, and it only makes his stomach turn more. he has no time to brace himself before they shove him forward and slam the doors behind him.

this is nothing like he’s ever seen, the arena dark and ominous, the crowd inhuman and faceless, writhing and pulsing like angry spirits hungry to drag unsuspecting souls into the river styx. he lets out a shaky breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, scans the audience for any traces of mother and realizes with a pang that it’d be impossible to pinpoint her in this crowd. he lifts his fingers from the handle of the weapon, lets them curl around it again, an attempt to rid himself of the clamminess of his palms. then he looks to his opponent, ready to strategize how he’s going to put on a show for his eager audience without any explicit instructions from mother like he’s used to-

-then stops in his tracks, his eyes wide.

“jun…ssi…?”

suddenly none of it makes sense. he knows junyoung, has visited him at his cafe more than once in hopes of hearing how the stories he can’t read end. jun is a ghoul. jun is his superior. jun is somehow, though myungsoo still hasn’t learned how to fathom the concept, his friend. 

his stance falters. they told him to fight, to kill, but they didn’t tell him his opponent would be a ghoul. nearly fifteen years of intense conditioning, of having it ingrained in his very existence that harming a ghoul in any way is absolutely forbidden, aren’t negated so easily. he can’t. he won’t. even if he wanted to he wouldn’t be able to. he begins to panic, his stomach turning dangerously, his heart rate picking up, sweat beading at his brow. he whirls around where he stands, the impatient roaring of the crowd growing as he searches frantically for mother to tell him what to do.

please, he pleads silently, still with no sign of his owner in sight, i don’t know what to do. 

[ghjunyoung-blog]

he tells them there’s been a mistake. he cries and begs and tells them he works at the cafe, it’s a mistake, i’m not supposed to fight. the cell they keep him in is far from comforting, and in his worst moments junyoung is convinced that the walls are closing in on him. he’s never had a thought of claustrophobia before now, but perhaps it’s the kidnapping and the lack of interpersonal contact or any friendly glance that has him suspicious of even the walls of this little room.

“we’re sorry, junyoung. you struggled, obviously you’ve got some fight in you. see you in the ring.”

when someone finally talks to him, that’s all that’s told. he tries to explain it was a mistake, he was just scared, he didn’t mean to. but it falls on ears that do not want to listen. he begs even when they come to free him from the cell only to lead him to a different sort of torture. junyoung, while he’s been taught the very basics of defending himself, could never reconcile with the very thought of ever hurting another living thing, be it human or ghoul or animal. he’s still agonizing over the guilt of not leaving his rats with fresh water, wondering if they’ll really be okay the longer he’s away. it should be a minor worry, knowing he’s supposed to fight to the death or something, but it keeps popping up in his mind nonetheless.

kim myungsoo. that was the name on his invitation. junyoung tells himself it’s going to be a stranger, just someone who happens to have the same name. but he knows he’s lying to himself. and the illusion he’s built up shatters when he’s forced into the arena, wishing he could make himself smaller and less visible with the crowd all around them. he’s never called himself shy, but center stage was never a comfortable place for him. but he’s sharing the spotlight with myungsoo. his myungsoo, the same boy that asked for stories with happy endings that junyoung was happy to write down for him. they were friends, and now he was supposed to kill him, or be killed by him.

he doesn’t want to fight.

“myungsoo.” it’s hardly more than a murmur, a shocked little sound that this was real. “oh my god, myungsoo.” frightened tears well up in junyoung’s eyes and he blames his lack of sleep for his inability to control his expression. he can’t hurt a friend, not even when he can hear the ghouls around them screaming for blood and knowing his own life is on the line here.

[ghjunyoung-blog]

You come home to a black, folded invitation on your dining table. 

Was that there before? You can’t remember.

The trip home was creepy enough; being closely followed by a white van with no plate number is creepy enough.

There is nothing printed on the cover of the invitation, and so you decide to open it. 

The following message greets you in delicate, silver script:

Congratulations! You have been invited to this year’s Munera as a VENATOR, chosen to represent The Owl Café in the games! We’re sure this must be an honour. Unfortunately, we cannot allow you to travel to the venue yourself. We will also have to hold you in a separate accommodation from your peers, in order to follow this tradition. To keep the peace and to honour the agreement, blood must be shed. Please remember that if you choose not to participate, your opponent’s fate (and life) will be in peril. Do you really want to have that blood on your hands in such a dishonourable way?

Your opponent for this year will be: Mr. Kim Myungsoo. 

Good luck, and be sure to enjoy yourself this year!

Outside, a heavy hand knocks against your door, once, and twice, shaking it by the frame. The third knock will surely send it down. Will you come quietly, put up a struggle, or attempt to escape? Outside, you can hear the murmur of not one, not two, but multiple voices that can surely overpower you. Remember, if you choose to come quietly, you may be able to appeal to your faction leader…

the paper nearly goes entirely unnoticed. the dining table is never junyoung’s priority when he arrives home. honestly, he’s not sure why he even keeps a table meant for regular eating off of when he rarely eats in his own home at all. it’s covered in pieces of paper, manuscripts with markings in colorful ink pointing out all of his own mistakes in his writing, and really a glorified desk at this point. but the black invitation sticks out against the pale sheets of printer paper like a blighted leaf, and it’s only a matter of time before he notices it.

his coming home ritual is much the same. he kicks off his shoes and pads over to algernon and templeton’s cage. it’s an impressive arrangement, and the two rats are rather spoiled. junyoung checks they have water ( they do, but he’ll probably refill it later so they have something fresh ) and food ( he needs to refill that immediately; his boys eat a lot ). his children are happy to see him, and they make his work a little difficult as they lick at his fingers and demand attention.

it’s only after he’s tended to them that he sees the note. he doesn’t know it’s a time bomb, he doesn’t know that the weird van was actually following him and not some strange coincidence. he doesn’t like to believe in conspiracies, but perhaps junyoung should be a little more paranoid. he finally notices the card, picking it up with care and flipping it over in an attempt to assure himself that it’s not something that he’s seen before.

eyes widen as he reads the message and he thinks that surely there must be some mistake. he doesn’t want to shed any blood, and certainly doesn’t want to give up any of his own. nothing about that sounds pleasant. he reads it again, hoping he had misread, but the words don’t change. kim myungsoo. a friend of his. and they’re supposed to fight? junyoung can’t wrap his head around it.

a yelp escapes him at the first pound on his door, and junyoung feels anxiety coil in the pit of his stomach. the second knock makes his blood run cold, and he’s too frozen in place to do much of anything before they’re busting his door down. this was avoidable, but the young ghoul is unable to think, paralyzed with fear as he is. rough hands grab him, and it’s then that he remembers that he has function in his limbs. he thrashes, he kicks, and it does him no good. it’s useless, and it only goes to scare him more. he’s on the verge of screaming out when there’s a blunt blow to the back of his head, and the world goes blurry and out of focus. his ears ring.

the fear doesn’t leave him as they lead him outside. he doesn’t know where he’s going, he doesn’t know what’s going to happen. all he knows is that the cage door was latched, and no one was going to replace that water tonight now.

[ghjinyoung-blog]

` I NEED U.

his hands tremble above the keyboard, and for the third time already he shifts back in his seat, pushes his chair back and leans his head down to his knees. he needs him right now, he knows that. but can he trust him with this secret, can he explain his absence well enough to have his apology accepted? it’s been over three weeks since he first disappeared, and he’d been through the mess with the police that his parents insisted upon - they wanted to catch his kidnappers, even though jinyoung knew they never would. 

he hoped they didn’t either, because that would also mean his death, or the end of his freedom - he’d be locked away or killed for what he now was. but he needed to chance it, he needed to hope he could trust junyoung with this secret. he needed someone he cared so greatly for to be there for him right now. 

so he pulls his chair closer to the table once more and lets his fingers rest on the keyboard, before he types out his message, eyes flicking over the multitude of ones from junyoung that he’d sent while jinyoung was ‘away’. 

to: jun-bug i need you. can we meet? im sorry

he hits send before he can overthink it. it’s messy, but it contains everything he needs to say for now. he knows junyoung will have questions, and he isn’t eve sure if he’ll have the answers, but all he needs is to see him, face to face for the first time. 

being online friends wasn’t enough for him anymore.

@ghjunyoung

[ghjunyoung-blog]

his phone buzzes with a message from one of the im apps he has installed on his phone, the one he actually used pretty regularly but hasn’t received a notification from in weeks. he was worried about jinyoung when messages seemed to just randomly stop coming, even more concerned when he heard on the news that someone with the same name of the friend he’s never met in person has gone missing. he tries to tell himself it was only a coincidence, but he had an uneasy feeling when his messages went unanswered.

so when he sees the notification, his heart does some relieved-excited flip flop in his chest when he finally finally has some indication that jinyoung is alive. junyoung wastes no time in opening the messages, and even though it’s short and cryptic and any rational person might think it’s vaguely creepy, he feels nothing short of delight. jinyoung is alive and he wants to meet up and that makes it so much easier to verify that he’s actually alive and well.

[ msg to: jinyoungie ] ARE YOU OKAY?? [ msg to: jinyoungie ] i’ve been so worried about you ;;;;;;;;;;;;; [ msg to: jinyoungie ] yeah of course. is everything alright? i saw the news, it was you right? [ msg to: jinyoungie ] where do you want to meet?

he can’t stop the flood of messages, not waiting for a response to one before he’s typing the other out furiously. a couple weeks without jinyoung had him worried sick, and he’s not going to lost contact again without knowing that his friend really is all okay.

[ghjunyoung-blog]

gotta go fast.

[myklvaith-blog]

the throbbing at his head would soon subside — at least, eunjae hoped so. there are more pressing matters to be addressed, such as that of, say, his hedgehog disappearing. he’s always said that seonic is almost as magical as the girl it’s named after; he didn’t actually think it was possible to actually be magical.

distracted, he tries to look at the floor by the guy’s feet, and sees a flash of brown disappear behind the counter a few ways away. how the hell can his hedgehog move that quickly?

“oh, uh — sorry, what?” he asks, a little uneasy and truly distracted. “anything is fine,” he answers in the same flippant manner, practically ready to bounce off his seat as soon as this guy goes away. on the other hand, however, if the waiter does head off to make his coffee, who knows how eunjae can sneak past the counter to retrieve seonic before anyone else notices?

he’s trapped, and the only reasonable course of action is — “my hedgehog,” he replies quickly, and a little embarrassed, and his expression betrays him a little. “don’t kick me out, okay? i brought seonic here because he gets lonely, but he…disappeared.”

[ghjunyoung-blog]

he’s worried about this boy. the unfocused look, the obvious jumpiness, all the little ticks and quirks that most people try to cover up or at least don’t display so easily in public. for a moment, junyoung wonders if he’s on anything. he’s not a user himself, but he’s heard that certain types of highs can make a person anxious and irritable, maybe like this.

junyoung’s reminding himself not to judge, trying to keep a worried frown off his face and hidden behind a smile, when he’s taken aback by the next utterance out of the boy. “hedgehog?” he needs to be sure he heard that correctly, and if he did then maybe his somewhat judgemental drugs assumption actually had some truth to it.

but then it’s explained. this customer dragged a defenseless little forest creature to a business, and junyoung is suddenly more concerned with the safety of the animal than any health code violations that it might mean. “oh, OH!” the exclamation escapes him as he realize the urgency of the situation. “his name is seonic? that’s cute-- but where is he? did you have him when you walked in? do you have any idea where he went?”

his brows furrow, obvious concern on his face. “i have small pets of my own --algernon and templeton-- i might cry if they went missing. we’ll find seonic, okay? i promise!”

[ghxdongwoo]

Spin Cycle

Nine in the evening and his suit has been exchanged for old gray sweatpants and a t-shirt that hasn’t seen the light of day since high school. The machine whirs to life in front of him, suds painting over the small viewing window as it slowly conducts itself back and forth. A myriad of hues. Kaleidoscopic triviality that he loses himself in, sinking headfirst into the gentle hum. This is the last of his laundry and he can’t remember how long it’s been because he hasn’t been keeping track of time. Everything blurs when he doesn’t have rituals to tie the seconds together. So far he remembers waking up and resisting the urge to tune into local news so he can somehow find a way to continue working on one of his seldom days off. Then comes weekly tasks just so he can have some semblance of organization, of cleanliness. Something that will convince him when he toes off his shoes at the door, that he’s as trivial as everyone else underneath the armor of his title. First class investigator with far too many closed files and accomplishments gilded with blood, still neglects to separate his whites from his wash because he’s too damn  lazy. 

 The speakers crackle with some late American pop song and he can only feign singing along when the language falls short behind his lips, hollow sounding melody fueled by the quiet air in his lungs, barely a whisper between the background noise of hard working machines. With his elbows propped lackadaisically atop his knees, Dongwoo surveys down the line of chairs and latches his eyes onto the only other body in the joint at this time of night, and it’s not anything serious but he has nothing better to do than to watch as the figure stares almost as contentedly as he was into the little opening of the dryer. Soon the rotations slow to a still on the stranger’s machine, and he almost has to convince himself to stop staring. Sure he can be bored but boredom does not condone intrusive behavior like suspicion does. Perhaps he’s still learning the difference; to see people without a vignette of cynicism and it feels strange to just be curious and observant but without intention. Innocence isn’t the right word because it never will be. Innocence fell from him without grace too many years ago to dare touch his name again. @ghjunyoung

[ghjunyoung-blog]

the mechanical whirs and occasional thunks of the machine are almost enough to lull junyoung into some sort of hypnotic state. there’s something comforting about the predictability of laundry day, the quiet of the laundromat since anyone else here at this hour is probably just counting down every minute until they can go home. the boy is honestly no different, he’d rather be at home curled up in bed or something, but personal hygiene is a must. plus, the shirts he wears to work almost always have some sort of brown coffee stain on the sleeves and he really doesn’t have the funds to replace them so easily no matter how much he’d rather not scrub.

he’s not paying much attention to what little company he has at a laundromat at this hour. really, no one’s very interested in making friends while waiting for their underwear to dry, so junyoung has learned to keep to himself. but he’s shocked when the machine in front of him clicks to a halt and he’s checking in his pockets to make sure that he didn’t accidentally leave a few precious coins behind and gyp himself out of another ten minutes or so in the dryer. but his pockets are empty, and he knows without opening the machine that there’s no way his jeans are dry in there. for a second, he’s frantic, checking every pocket on his person and his wallet twice for even just a couple extra coins to finish out the time he needs.

it’s then that he realizes that he’s going to have to talk to the only other person in the laundromat. junyoung has never been particularly shy in character, but there’s a hesitance to bother someone in the middle of such a menial chore. “excuse me,” he approaches the stranger as politely as he can manage, not knowing what sort of mood he might be walking in on. “do you have any extra change on you? i can pay you back, i swear, i just need like twenty more minutes in the dryer and i guess i miscounted before i left home--”

[ghjunyoung-blog]

gotta go fast.

[myklvaith-blog]

seonic didn’t want to be left at home. 

hedgehogs are nocturnal creatures, and eunjae supposes he’s been absent the past few nights, prowling the streets and all in his usual way. so now seonic lies curled up in his pocket, leeching off the warmth of the palm lying in it. if seon won’t join him for coffee, he figures: why not bring someone just as precious.

so he gets in and settles down, and places seonic on his lap. he settles in and feels seonic moving around, but surely his pet won’t suddenly disappear just because he picks up the menu and –

and suddenly the weight is gone. he looks around, ducks behind the menu, and calls out softly: “seonic?” 

he glances under his chair, and under the table. the voice, however, distracts him from his search, and he lifts his head too quickly, hitting the back of it against the table. it makes a horrible clatter, and leaves an even more terrible ache, and he’s left rubbing the back of his head when he answers. “hm? oh…” must stall, must stall – maybe he can find seonic on his own. “a regular mocha, please.”

[ghjunyoung-blog]

it’s hard to hide his confusion over the other boy fidgeting around so much. junyoung’s tempted to look under the table himself, wondering just what it was that the guy was so urgently looking for. as far as he could tell, nothing had fallen off the table or anything.

“ouch, watch your head. you okay?” he winces sympathetically as he hears that terrible clunk of head meeting table that he’s felt once or twice himself ( he’s tall, it’d be stranger if he never had hit his head before ). junyoung gives a weaker smile, as if an apology on behalf of the table. “are you okay? do you want ice for that? should i fill out an accident report?” the last part is a joke. he sincerely does not want to fill out an accident report.

the order is simple enough that he doesn’t have to scribble it down, just asks “with or without whip?” and lets himself wonder just what is it that this guy is looking for?

his curiosity gets the better of him, as always, and before he turns away to go get that regular mocha asap, he’s questioning him. “um, did you drop something? or are you looking for something? you just.. were kinda underneath the table for no reason i could see. do you need any help?”

[ghjunyoung-blog]

crash.

@ghxsen

there’s a yelp, followed by a loud crash and a groan of defeat from the boy as he stares at the shards of ceramic now scattered across the ground in a pool of warm brown. his finger is red from where near-boiling water wounded him, hence his startled flinch and dropping of the mug. the pain is only temporary though, and junyoung is already more concerned about the hazard he’s created on the floor than his own body.

he’s not usually so clumsy, or at least he likes to believe so. the boy crouches down to gather up the bigger chunks of mug, internally bemoaning the fact that it broke in so many places that even if he were a master of jigsaw puzzles and had the best superglue in the world, it still probably would never be used for drinking out of ever again. at least it’s not glass, though. junyoung would much prefer dull broken ceramic over sharp needle shards any day.

the boy mutters to himself about how annoying it is, when really there’s no one to blame but himself for the accident. it’s embarrassing to call attention to himself like that too, in such an ungraceful and unflattering way. at least he’s not crying about it, that would only make everything that much worse.

[ghxseon-blog]

“i didn’t mean to startle you, sorry!” seon splutters, nervously waving her hands in some awkward, flustered reaction. “i just.. i’m a regular here, and i always see you writing so i thought… i mean, i don’t mean to! or i do, but not in a creepy way. it just so happens that i’m here and you’re here, too–” 

the small girl cuts herself off, anxiety suddenly creeping up her spine and nestling in her lungs. her fingers fidget nervously with the hem of her shirt, chest expanding slightly in an attempt to calm herself with a deep breath. “well, you.. work here, so you would be.. here. um, but you know, you were reading this book one time, and it looked interesting,” she rambles pathetically, face growing pinker with every word. “i don’t read much but i decided to start reading it when i saw it in the store but it was kind of.. hard… and i just thought, you know.. you’d be an author, or something cool like that!” 

she musters a pained smile, feeling every wave of regret rushing through her veins. her superiors have told her many times to always come in with a game plan, and each time, she fails to do so. “it was just hard to read–or maybe i’m just dumb? but i thought.. to, um, talk to you? you just seem, well, interesting. i’m seon, by the way and, um, sorry if i’m bothering you.”

[ghjunyoung-blog]

she’s so cute. junyoung can’t help but smile fondly at the girl as he assures her that he’s not that startled, and he’s flattered that she’s paid enough attention to him and what he does when he’s slacking off during work. “really, it’s okay! it’s not like i try to hide it anyways, i just didn’t really expect anyone to pay attention.”

his brow furrows in confusion for a moment, trying to recall just what books he had brought to work with him and which of those would look interesting to random bystanders. he reads often enough, someone once told him that reading would make him a better writer, that he’s sifting through titles in his brain until he can even take a guess at what it was. “i like to read,” he says simply, a smile returning to his face easily. “sometimes stuff is hard to read.. but did you finish it? did you enjoy it?”

he’s always down to talk about literature and his favorite titles. junyoung had an appreciation for the classics, but he almost wished he was fluent in the languages they were originally written in instead of reading translated versions. surely he’d get more out of the writing if he could understand the source. “i’m sure you’re not dumb! reading is for fun anyways, it’s not a competition of who can understand the most difficult book.” he frowns sympathetically. “i’m junyoung. and you’re not a bother at all! don’t worry!” he’s happy to have someone to talk to, in all honesty.

[ghjunyoung-blog]

gotta go fast.

@gheunjae

there’s enough hands on deck and few enough customers needing to be served that junyoung has time to breathe and relax for a few moments before the rush of people that always inevitably come in. he taps a pen against a notebook idly, watching a couple of girls giggle over their drinks and talk about their plans for the weekend. he doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he knows that one of them has a date and the rest are going to help her get ready.

it’s the random little happenings in every day life that inspire him to write. or so he says. there’s nothing actually on his paper except a bunch of little dots from his pen where he’s been tapping away idly. but junyoung isn’t concerned, something will come along and inspire him eventually.

someone new walks into the cafe and he leaves his notebook aside, realizing that he needs to be an attentive employee for the next moment. the smile that he puts on his face is bright, and not at all forced. he’s just naturally a radiant person. “hi, how can i help you?”

Send me 'I want the K' and I'll generate a number

1: Hot, Steamy kiss

2: Cheek Kiss

3: Nose Kiss

4: Forehead Kiss

5: Firm Kiss

6: Gentle Peck

7: Romantic Kiss

8: Eyelid Kiss

9: Jawline Kiss

10: Neck Kiss

11: Collarbone Kiss

12: Chest Kiss

13: Stomach Kiss

14: Kiss Along the Hips

15: Kiss in the Rain

16: Upside-Down Kiss

17: Goofy Kiss

18: Underwater Kiss

19: Forceful Kiss

20: Any of the Above

21: Then there’s tongue

[ghxseon-blog]

＊ @ghjunyoung — ❛ alphabet soup ❜

people are fascinated by things such as the five wonders of the world, at the sky changing overhead and the stars that inhabit it. you know, revolutionary technological advancements and medical miracles and all those amazing investigators regarded as heroes (by the human populace) that are sometimes on the television. extraordinary things and people. 

lee seon was fascinated by a boy in uniform and his frustrated scribbling into a notebook. 

although, that wasn’t to say he wasn’t extraordinary himself (he could be, she didn’t know). but people were in awe at blatantly extraordinary things. they don’t sip espressos and gawk at baristas in cafes. well, some do. but she isn’t staring at him like that. rather, it’s because, well… 

she straightens her skirt as she stands up, hesitantly inching towards the boy’s table with an anxious smile.

everyone seems like a philosopher when your only schooling was two years at the ghoul investigator training academy.

“uh, excuse me–” she stammers, motioning capriciously to his work. “i, uh, are you… do you.. is–uh, your book?”

[ghjunyoung-blog]

his pencil taps against the paper, a moment of stalling as he rereads what he’s already scribbled and tries to figure out just where to go from there. he fixes a word here and there, adjusts his grammar or takes out repetitive phrases, all the while keeping an ear open for when he’ll be called back to work. no time to pursue his creative dreams while still on the clock!

thankfully it’s a break right now, and a bit of a slow day where time seemed a little more fluid and a ten minute break could easily double it’s length if there’s no shortage of idle hands behind the counter.

junyoung’s startled from his thoughts by a voice, immediately looking up and meeting her eyes with a hospitable grin that had come naturally for him from the start. there’s a prickle of disappointment though, he’s sure that she’s going to ask him for help with something work related and he’ll lose his entire thought process for his work.

but she asks about his writing and he only grows more animated even though he rushes to hide his words. “yeah, i’m trying to write a book. but don’t look! it’s no where near done!” he’s shy in his work, not satisfied with it to be read by even his friends just yet. it’s too rough, too incomplete.

[ghjunyoung-blog]

hi hi hi my name is steph and i am so excited to be here with this muse you have no idea

junyoung is a tol soft ghoul boy with a lot of love okay he has a passion for coffee foam art and keeps two pet rats with names that are coming soon in a nice lil headcanon post. he’s very precious and idealistic and he is here to make friends and i certainly hope no one gets the bright idea to eat him eyes emojis at any cannibals potential or otherwise.

aNYWAYS if you’d like to plot with him hmu for aim or twitter since i’m best reached through one of those means. aim is taeloup, twitter is @taesthetes ~

[ghoulxs-blog1]

//:LEE JUNYOUNG is a 19-year old GHOUL. He continues to survive in the 17th WARD as a BARISTA and a member of THE OWL CAFÉ. His RC TYPE is UKAKU. 

                                  ● ● ● ↻ ᴊᴜɴʏᴏᴜɴɢ’s ᴛʀᴀɢᴇᴅʏ ʙᴇɢɪɴs ʜᴇʀᴇ …

Keep reading

[leejunyuong-blog]

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