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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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@grystal-blog
hi loves, i'm dropping krystal bc i've just lost my muse for her and i know i've been hogging her for a long time bc i just love her sO MUCH but honestly...,.,. hopefully i'll be coming back w/ a different character soon bc i'm still so attached to alo, but until then, i'll miss u <33 thank u to everyone who made krystal what she was :--), it was truly magical
[ bt ] advice to little girls,
The lights and glamour of the Great Hallâthe whole event, reallyâwas not something unfamiliar to Naeun; though she couldnât say that she wasnât enjoying herself as she weaved through the crowds at the edge of the dance floor. The sleek suits and glittering dresses of all colors brought back memories of the fashion shows sheâd often frequented as a child, while  the music reminded her of the many theaters and symphonies sheâd enjoyed. Everything in the Great Hall had hints of the home she so loved, and she found contentment in every whispered hello and step to the three-beat waltz. It was in her fascination toward the unmelting ice sculpture that Naeun found herself smiling and walking through the crowds, only half-thinking; fabrics she usually wouldâve been able to place simply brushed by and coherent words sounded like a buzz that passed between one ear to another. It was with the jab of an elbow to her arm that voice focused and her eyes moved from the ice to a girl of warm cheeks and memories of her favorite place in New York. âKrystal,â she said as if testing the nameâone she had not said in far too longâon her tongue. A polite smile raised the corners of her lips as she surveyed the girl with from head to toe, trying to notice what had changed since their days before Hogwarts. âNo need to apologize. Itâs okay. I wasnât really looking either and um⊠Iâm okay too, I guess.â She shrugged. Memories seeped from the corners of her mind; memories of days in Central Park, braids and pigtails, and running around the apartment returned to herâfaint memories in comparison to those she had of clothes and music, but they created a sort of longing inside her. âHogwarts is Hogwarts, and well, you know that, right? How are you?â
It had become evident that when Krystal admired anything, she would thereafter uphold the secrecy of a tacit rapture -- which was, in many ways, convincing, yet seen as a back number, and perhaps rightfully so. She had long thought that Naeun possessed a beautiful walk, and if it were to be the first time that she would have met her, Krystal might have cultivated a wonderfully deep fascination. Her red lips pressed together into a mild smile, shoulders slightly raising and dropping as a fraction of her response. "I get along," Slim fingers rub at her eyelids through the mask before habitually moving to brush lengths of hair behind her ear. "I guess I don't really know what I'm doing here." Brown eyes watch as the unbounded communion of the room took the form of whirling dresses and indicative eyes, ostensibly seeing only through the decorated slits of false faces.
Krystal found herself at loss for words, the inelegance of both herself and the situation as a whole bringing a light shade of pink to her cheekbones. Her tongue scrambles for sentences, clambering to force the syllables to part from her lips. The lack of communication between the two over the past years had forced a relatively hazardous lump into her throat, the bulkiness of bones finally touching upon her ability to impart balance. Krystal didn't like the decay of friendship. Nobody does. She simply couldn't see herself going out of her way to foster it again, that's all. Still, she never was good at nor saw the functional purpose of small talk, and thus attempts to move from such dwellings. "Care to go outside with me? I need some air."
advice to little girls,
Somewhere in the depths of the Great Hall, where the dregs of intimacy are perpetually being shaken together, a girl, walking gingerly through crevices formed by full human bodies, drew back near the side of the room, held her dress aside, and watched the feet of those who danced, frisked, reveled and rollicked. Krystal knew not why she had attended the ball to begin with, for in spite of her adoration for dance, large crowds alarmed her in such a way that she could not put her finger on. Still, she admires the people, the twist of the foot, the pulling of scarlet hips. It was a party, which pertained to an atmosphere almost definitive of itself. Light manipulates shadows, the sighs of cloth gliding through air sounding as girls dip and spin.
Krystal twists stray lengths of dark hair around her finger and brushes them back. Brown orbs are rubbed under heavy eyelids through the openings for eyes of her silver mask as a frown materializes upon her lips. With soft steps, she migrates once again, almost religiously, blood surging through her veins. And then, the rush of breath, the flood of displaced air! In her compulsory idleness, she turns to identify who she had unwittingly elbowed, the beginnings of an apology pushing against a closed mouth The curvature of her lips changes upon the recognition of Naeun, whose incisive elegance, not to be confused with presumption, completely and utterly melts Krystal's bones. Her breath a poem, her eyes the ocean, she drives her mind into the abyss where friendship had once grown, modestly parting her lips and allowing syllables to pour from her tongue. Even in artlessness it happened: the actualization of light, of affinity. "Hey, sorry, wasn't looking," Slim fingers fumble to lace together. A chance was taken, in the subtle kind of way. "How are you, by the way?"
yonkers,
What constituted the chief and fundamental feature of existence had grown to be, in short, a chronic inability to fall subject to an activity found most satisfying within the circumstances of both a problematic and prosaic life. She awoke, so to speak, in the morning with the curious understanding of every moment of abnormality. And it was like this that her eyes openedânot with several blinks, or squints, with blurred edges, no, but with one wide-eyed awakening, in a single pulse. It can therefore be concluded that the girl had suffered an itching impatience for the break of lightâa time in which the right to be awake had not yet been robbed from herâexactly seven hours ago. Now that the sun was in the process of its ascension, half-circles assuming the shade of a subtle purple and blue languished below Krystalâs eyes. An outstretched appendage stirs amongst the blankets, then reaches out, ribs opening, voice extending. It was a Saturday, which pertained to an atmosphere definitive of itself. A pale light manipulates the shadows so as to dance, the sighs of cloth sounding as sixth years pull their blankets higher up their necks.
Slim fingers smooth lengths of hair from her face and subsequently move to rub at her eyelids in effort to erode the previous eveningâs restlessness, legs swinging off the mattress awkwardly as a frown materializes upon her lips. âDamn it, I lost a sock again.â With soft steps she movesâalmost religiouslyâbreath shortening, blood surging through her veins in a rushing river. And then, the rush of breath, the flood of displaced air! She stumbles down the dormitory stairwell, tripping at the last step, her nose smashing into the foot of a person who had stopped to spectate Krystal's gracelessness. A small laugh is exhaled from her nose as she looks up, lips parting to speak. "Sorry--good morning."
soojung clinging onto amber ©
( / bouncing up to krystal, she quickly jumps on her back before sprinkling some salt over the two ) walking in a winter wonderland! ( / bursting into laughter, she quickly dusts the salt off krystal before sliding off ) yooo, what do you want for christmas?
[ //: her brows intuitively knit together, right arm sharply raising to dust some of the crystals from her bangs. ] yeonsoo, youâre not really trying to make some kind of winter wonderland, are you? youâre just trying to exorcise me with this salt and use christmas as an excuse, like itâs some folkloric repellent of evil or voodoo shit. reading too many muggle books, are ya? [ //: brown orbs jokingly roll, a smile materializing upon her lips thereafter. curiously enough, when she yeonsoo came within sight of her eyes, krystal experienced an intensified gust of gladness. ] anywayâyou canât just ask someone what they want for christmas, at our age, anyway. i like it better when it comes from the heart. have you ever heard of that story where the wife sells her hair and the husband sells his watch?
( â owl ) ă Ą gUESS WHO'S BACCCCCKKK!!1 : ))
ă â : yeonsoo ăo god noâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠ.
high cut - pt.2Â
{ bt } WHO YOU // kryseok
The roll of his eyes come naturally after she speaks as he doesnât even bother to stop it anymore; itâs like second nature now. âYou could try, at least.â He retorts, adjusting the hand baggage on his shoulder and following her with no words â it wasnât necessary between the two, he found, the silence like music in his ears when other students were so boisterous around them. After he managed to fit the belongings he didnât trust the school to carry on the cramped space provided, he moved to sit beside the girl, feet propping up to rest on the bench across them. âYouâve got more demanding.â Minseok points out, head falling back to rest as he side-eyes her. Last time he remembers, she was more easygoing, probably an effect of having been around each other for a long time, and now he looks forward to have that kind of outcome on her. âDid you not have fun this summer?â
Several breathy, hushed laughs part from her lips in rapid succession, slim fingers raising to smooth stray lengths of dark hair behind her ears. She flings a look back along the way they had come. The platform--440 yards. Children--121 centimeters. Arches--a mile. Her lips separate to speak in the same manner they had separated to disclose laughter."What, because I told you to come sit next to me I'm suddenly demanding?" Krystal scoffs. "Hardly. Even if I was being demanding, it was always this way." Her fingers run along the hem of her skirt, stopping at a loose thread and snapping it from the fabric. "Summer? Oh, I don't know. I was in New York. And that was enough. I do nothing but romanticize and--and decay with indecision, anyway. You already knew that though." And now her fingers move to brush small strands of hair from Minseok's forehead. "What about you?"
⌠I'm Nacho Old HoM Professor
Rei grinned like a fox. He sauntered over to the girl and threw an arm around her shoulders and began leading her over to an empty desk, which was no small feat thanks to his decorating ambitions. "Of course I donât mind, it is my job to help you after all." He drawled, words punctuated with a wink. He sat down on said desk, patting the space next to him. âWhat can I help you with MissâŠ?â
Her chapped lips inherently press into a thin line, sharing likeness to the ones that tightrope walkers tread upon, as the weight of his arm clenches down onto her shoulders, the corners of Krystal's mouth curving into a slightly descending slope. And upon sight of an abominable wink, her lips, with the same inherency, part and assume the manifest shape of unease. "Krystal. It's Krystal." The book was slid onto the desk. "So, review? I'm sort of hazy on the Goblin Rebellions. Wasn't it like, the French Revolution?" Krystal looked down between his collar and neck, then to the joints of her fingers, and back up to his eyes.
[ ` he yanks your hair lightly as he passes by. ]
ya right fuck ya fritz donât touch me with ye grubby lil fingars ya nasty ass puddle o' bong water i'm leavin' and cuttin' off this piece o' hair ya just touched and puttin' it under ya girlfriend's pillow tonight [ //: sighs ]
( âïž owl ) ă Ą this has been a psa. ( âïž owl ) ă Ą u r the prettiest girl eva!!1 ( âïž owl ) ă Ą btw i accidentally spilled orange juice on one of ur books. ( âïž owl ) ă Ą i am not coming home today pls vent anger on someone else until i return i hope u r calm when i come back from war
[ â : owl ] âŠhow bad is the damage
[Â â : owl ] iâm still going to kill u
[Â â : owl ] but ya iâll Wait for u lol xddd Lol
hufflexapple:
[/when you run down the hall, a girl rushes up to you carrying basket full of apples] Here! [/she passes you a large apple in a white cloth ] Please have an apple from Apple! And donât run! You might hurt yourself but itâs okay, because Iâll give you apples to make you feel better! [/she bows and skips off ]
[ //: she eyes the fruit that had suddenly been placed in her hand, white cloth sliding from the glossy exterior. and then followed a couple of blinks, the holding arm unnaturally still. with that, she listened to the muddling syllables pour from the girlâs lips with profound bewilderment, eyes still glued to the apple. the question of whether the apple was safe to eat or not arose. krystal stood pondering as the otherâs footsteps faded. ]
krystal, my favorite, or at least one of them, person in the world! though itâs not a holiday, my parents told me about this thing called pepero day. so.. ( /trails off before rushing over to the big bag filled with boxes of pepero, grabbing a white one before handing it to her ) first things first, yes i am the realest. i am also lame but you love me anyways, therefore, first picks go to the people i room with. ( /grins ) if youâd like to pick another box, feel free to do so!
Hey âsoo. [ //: upon sight of her charming visage, krystalâs lips curled into an impassive smile, eyelids lowering in slight under the all too unfamiliar sight of raw affection. ] Eh, Iâd consider Pepero Day a holiday. [ //: she graciously takes the ivory box into her fingers, looking blindly with a novel disbelief. despite their six-year friendship, yeonsooâs immaculate good will was still a mystery to krystal. for some minutes she seemed too much exhausted to speak, but her lips parted, skin tingling with the sensation of consonance. ] Oh God, did you just quote Iggy? [ //: laughter pours from in between her lips, the resonance a manifestation of intimacy. she made three or four gyrations into the air in rapid succession with the pepero box. ] I do love you. Thank you.
` retrograde amnesia // baek & krys
Baekhyun, confused by the sudden change in her demeanor, does not let it unsettle him. The girl was a Gryffindor, after all, and from his experience, Gryffindors did have a tendency to be a bit flightyâa friend to everyone, indeedâŠnot.
Baekhyun drops his hand, which he had raised to offer a friendly wave, and picks up his spoon, returning his attention back to the idea of a good breakfast. He listens to the chatter of his friends. Although their current topic about new schedules amongst other academic related things thoroughly bores him, he tries his best to participate in an effort to help ease the sting of having to wonder whether he has just been the recipient of subtle or blatant rejection. The extra spoonful of chocolate chips on top of his pancakes helps soothe his ruffled feelings, too.
A few days later, on his way from a tutoring session with a Professor, Baekhyun notices a blonde walking in front of him. Her hair stands outâitâs even brighter than that of the other blondes walking with her, and Baekhyun realizes it is Krystal. They are all walking in the same direction, but the other girls soon veer down another hall, leaving Krystal and Baekhyun alone.
Baekhyun hesitates, remembering her reaction from earlier that week, but he takes a deep breath. Heâs not sure if he can handle eating chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast for a sixth time. Itâs now or waiting for another rare opportunity to approach her. With this thought in mind, he quickens his steps, and speaks just as she turns around.
âHey, Krystal,â Baekhyun says, pulling on the sleeve of his robe. âHow are you?â He looks into her face expectantly.
It was weeks ago, and seemed as many months, for days and nights passed slowly in the solitudes and fluctuating scale of time, that the familiar resonance of his voice had materialized and evaporated as soon as it appeared. At the edge of madness, there was always something that made them more blood than bone, more sweat than skin. Krystal looks upon him with a certain passivity and elation--one with a plethora of stars--but as for the latter, she refused to recognize. She had felt its warmth and continues to yearn for its glow, of the flame that rushed through their veins and was definitive of an invincible summer. Her lips thus part with the surface of intention, breath becoming word.
"Hey." It's almost a whisper. "I'm alright." And throughout the course of her action, her heart descends from her breast to her stomach; the sensation is wholly unnerving. She let a brief silence pass, during which she became so tense that her attention began to wander from his eyes to her shoes to the pictures and memories of the scenes they had once again arrived at. Two slender fingers are habitually raised, brushing loose lengths of hair behind her ears. "What about you? How're your classes and stuff?" And it is here that she begins the routine misfortune, in which only intemperate language seemed to pour from her in between her lips. When her reason left with the rush of a breath, she experiences a sentiment half of dignity and half of shame, so that she thus lowered her head and looked up once again to meet his eyes with inarticulate apology. Krystal's fingers are held together with indication of discomfort. She wishes to flee the scene with remarkable promptness, for it would be remembered that, in the usual recount of their interaction, that her name was Krystal, and her affection for Baekhyun was not for naught, but instead for the purposes of experiencing a fleeting exhilaration not meant to be looked at again. That would be all.
