the little prince.

[otp-imagines-cult]

OTP Quotes Challenge

A belated celebration for reaching 5000+ followers! Here we have a list of random quotes for you to use for your OTP! You can have followers tell you numbers to draw your OTP as, or you can write stories based on your favorites, or both! Take these quotes in any direction you like for your creative use. Have fun!

“Aah! That tickles!”

“whAT IS THAT?!”

“woah what happened while I was gone”

“wait no that’s mine what are you doing”

“No, I’m paying”

“It’s fine, stop worrying about me”

“dON’T TELL ME I CAN’T DO THAT I WILL DO THAT THING ALL I WANT”

“Come over here— oh crap no don’t fall— why does this always happen”

“just tAKE THE JACKET”

“I’m so hungry I could eat a— stop looking at me like that in public”

“Well, that was certainly awkward”

“waIT DON’T RUN AT ME I’LL FALL”

“are… are you awake? Did you fall asleep already”

“great, what did you bring home this time?”

“I don’t know why you don’t like this outfit on you. You look splendid.”

“aaah I can’t stop blushing… No you’re not helping at all”

“I can’t believe they spelled your name wrong again”

“enOUGH! ENOUGH WITH YOUR PUNS”

“I can’t… I can’t believe you actually remembered…”

“Put some clothes on already, jeez! We have company coming!”

“okay, and how much money did you spend on that thing?”

“I wish we could stay here forever”

“who was that? oh… your cousin…”

“You okay? You seem a little off today”

“I’m fine”

“I don’t know, what do you want to do?”

“c-can I hold your hand?..”

“GIVE ME YOUR HAND”

“oh, remember when you used to wear that all the time? Good times.”

“you can’t run so it’ll be faster if I just carry you”

“You don’t need to tell me— I’ve memorized your order by now”

“y-you look… you look very nice.”

“did that person just take a picture of us?”

“c’mon, let’s dance!”

“oh mY GOD ARE THESE YOUR BABY PICTURES???”

“oh, we are not letting you drive when you’re like this”

“you’re a nerd. but my favorite nerd.”

“why do you find those cute I hate those pictures of myself”

“you’re very warm… It’s nice.”

“You know what? I wasn’t even surprised by that. I’m that used to you.”

“Wait, stay right there— I’ve got a song for you”

“oh thank goodness… I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

“You don’t have to do this if you’re scared”

“EVERY TIME I SAY THAT YOU ALWAYS MAKE THE SAME PUN”

“I can’t believe you actually bought that”

“that… that was a lot different than I thought it’d be”

“no stop i’M HURTING FROM LAUGHING SO MUCH”

“let’s pretend I didn’t see you do that”

“You’re too sweet”

“ah, you’re up. how’d you sleep?”

[dean-colette-deactivated2026050]

Just Writer Things™️

“i don’t think this pen helps with my creativity, I gotta buy another one”

This is the third notebook I bought this month I need to s t o p. I don’t even write in them anymore

That overwhelming feeling when you found the perfect song for your work

One-word horror story: titles

Sequel to one-word horror story: summaries

“I know exactly how to start and finish this…I just…need to figure out how to bridge them…”

Me while reading an older work: what the fuck are you talking about :)

Me while reading a recent work: what the fuck are you talking about :)

Physically stops myself from using fucking as an adverb…again

Hello, constant self-doubt, my old friend

That one song you listen to on loop when writing a scene that by the end of writing it you’re already sick of the song and ready to fight anyone if you have to listen to it again

Me while writing a character intelligent in something im not: what the fuck should I talk about :)

Writing for a fandom and seeing people make passive-aggressive posts about fanfictions as if fanfic authors are fandom slaves

why are tenses so fucking difficult

That feeling when making a playlist for your wips

Writer’s block is so fun huh

Daydreaming about your wips

“is ‘fuck’ a curse word during the 1700’s”

Thinking of the dialogues/banter and not noticing that you’re saying it out loud until you see someone giving you a weird look

“im self-projecting too much aren’t I :)”

Looking for writing tips and following none of them because ‘you have your own style’

Someone seeing your google history and wondering if you’re a murderer because why the hell do you have ‘how to hide dead bodies’ in there

Not knowing how to feel when people are liking more the thing you half-assed than those stories you shed tears writing

This is a ridiculous idea but would make an interesting story

Me while writing: im never gonna be good enough I cant im horrible I should give up - | me when I finished something: I am god no one can stop me now I will take over the world | repeats cycle

Spends three hours researching about lamps

That one person you want to impress. You know, them.

Writing dialogues: okay, good, so poetic, much majestic | writing descriptions: the sky is blue and the water is blue too because of it

“wait, fuck, I already used this scene in my other story”

Me while writing using my third language: im using this word correctly right

Me while writing using my first language: im using this word correctly right

I thank god for the creation of thesaurus

That conflicting feeling when you read someone’s work and it’s really good, so so amazing that you’re both inspired and envious and you feel bad for feeling envious

I have 167 ideas and im writing none of them

Don’t listen to that voice in your head that’s telling you you should take a quick break when you’re on a writing roll. Just don’t. It won’t be a quick break.

When you have the time to write but you choose to do other things that there’s really no need to do

Like me writing this post

And you browsing tumblr

Open a document now

Write

Your wip is waiting for you

And it’s gonna be amazing and all so worth it

So don’t be too hard on yourself.

Someone out there fell in love with your style. Someone out there will fall in love with your style.

I love you and keep creating. :)

[iyoonssaem-blog]

ABCs of your OCs

A: Aptitude

1. what are your oc’s natural abilities, things they’ve been doing since young? he is considered as the jack-of-all-trades. he has a lot of interest on many things, but never mastered one thing, even though he has interest on specific fields. some people may think it’s an advantage for him since seungyoon can do whatever his heart desires and he will be good at it, but he himself doesn’t consider it as a luck. even though he can do a lot, he feels he has never been serious on many hobbies he’s doing. he’s a quick learner, and a curious one. once he puts his mind on one thing, seungyoon may pick on the skills quicker than those who teach him from the start. 

2. what activities have they participated in? during school, seungyoon mostly had participated in sports and arts activities. he supported the soccer team as a backup player, and he performed in a vocal group with his friends during school trip. he also entered a billiard competition and became a champion and representative of his hometown.

3. what abilities do they have that they’ve worked for? he has been interested in sewing and drawing lately, because his job requires him to take care of his students, he thinks those two ability will come in handy when in need.  4. what things are they bad at? when it comes to dancing to the rhythm, seungyoon is incapable of doing so. whether it’s a slow tempo to the most upbeat song, his body just can’t follow and he will look super awkward.  5. what is their most impressive talent? he can play guitar and sing. they have always been his charm since school, but seungyoon has never thought of persuading the professional field since he has other dreams he wants to achieve, which is being a teacher. 

[iyoonssaem-blog]

kang seungyoon. kindergarten teacher 🍒 . au. krp.

[fatenumberfor]

black-haired yoon is back

[wordfather]

spicy™ dialogue™ prompts™

“At least you’ll die doing what you love; Walking into danger.”

“Here’s some cookies and some very bad news!”

“I have forgotten everything I’ve ever learned.”

“Let me keep that promise.”

“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.”

“Why am I always the funniest when no one is around to hear it?”

“Can you stay still for the next 20 minutes? No, I’m not drawing you.”

“Oh no, I feel bad- SYKE, no I don’t.”

“Next problem… we might die.”

“Wow, that was a great comeback.”

“Who is running this thing?!”

“You are aware that walls aren’t people, right?”

“Hey, go fill up your human needs.”

“Yeah, keep making jokes. That’ll win the war.”

“Yeah, I can see how hiding behind a rock is a much better strategy.”

“I think… everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves.”

“I can’t help that I’m curious.”

“I know you. You’re a terrible person. But as the judge here, I will look at you in the unbiased way you don’t deserve.”

“The mountains are calling and I must skedaddle.

“Who says ‘nincompoop’?!”

“Things fascinate me. Why wouldn’t they, when you stop to give them thought?”

“Are you always so easily convinced?”

“Look, it’s difficult for me to isolate what I hate about you the most because there is so much to hate.”

“That’s an order. Obey.”

“Look, I don’t want to swear but; What. The frick!”

“As the most amazing person in the room, I’ll gladly accept that.”

“Now power down, sass robot.”

“The art of not being an idiot is extremely challenging for me.”

“That’s troubling.”

“Tell your story. Become words, become ideas… you never know what or who it’ll affect.” 

[iyoonssaem-blog]

✜ (rolls this in ur direction)

[✜ ] my muse collapses in front of yours, all bloodied and bruised.

Seungyoon never thoughtthat working at the grilled meat restaurant could be this exhausting.He got a phone call from his mother earlier this week to help out hisuncle who ran a family restaurant. He was short on employees, and inneed of helpers as soon as possible. Helping a family never madeSeungyoon think twice before, but he somehow regretted it on thefirst two hours on the job. Seungyoon’s mother used to run arestaurant too, but it was too small to ask for extra helps duringthe weekend. She also never asked Seungyoon to do some chores, so hewasn’t sure how his presence would benefit his uncle’s restaurantin such busy weekend hour. He calculated it wrong. It was a hard andtiring labor work. He reeked of smokes too, and fats and alcohol (andalso the bad puke at the front of the store he had to clean up, wherethe slimy pieces of meat were still distinguishable). Somebodyneeds to chew their food properly, Seungyoon told himself as hescrubbed the sidewalk.

He had never seen thatmany people came at once in one place, that he had to move the tablefrom corner to another since the customers were coming in a largegroup of people. From his experience, there had never been a groupdinner after work once  Seungyoon started working at the kindergartenfor two weeks now, because the teachers were also mothers of theirown family, that Seungyoon mostly embraced his weekend in loneliness.He asked god to kill time, but he never expected to get suchemergency call, wiping off a drunken man’s puke on the sidewalk. Itwas Friday night, and Seungyoon promised to god he would never asksuch request again.

The way back to hisapartment was never smooth in addition, ever since Seungyoon paid forthe rooftop place at the top of the hill. The place was cheap, hadenough room for himself, a great view, an average working heater onthe cold days. The alley road was finely asphalted, but the slope wasanother challenge. It was a nice combo after a tiring day of work,with painful joints and stiff neck as the extra weights. There was nosign of his grunt  stopping when Seungyoon walked along, almostreached the top (but there’s also a spiral staircase; so he whinedagain). He wanted to take a long shower and a nice comfort food, andfalling asleep until Monday. He saw the stair and thought how thelong night finally ended in peace.

As if.

On the first step, heeyed a figure sitting down. Seungyoon was not sure who it was, andassumed probably just another drunken old man falling asleep beforehe headed home. He was about to ignore the stranger until the imageof them became clearer. It was a familiar lean figure he knew. Longhair dangling on their shoulders, being blown by the breeze at times.Her face was red and random bruises on her arms and legs. The clenchin his stomach told Seungyoon to speed up, because they were alarmingbad signals inside of him. He kneeled in front of her, calling out aname that usually gave him warmth, but that night it sent him aslight terror. “Haneul-ah?” he said, in a trembled voice. He heldup her head which was lolling over, and Seungyoon caught apparentblood on her features. “What happened—hey, hey!” Before hecould catch any consciousness from her, she was already falling intohis arms.

He cursed, reaching forhis phone to call the ambulance.

[memesandthings]

SEND A SYMBOL FOR A CORRESPONDING PROMPT/STARTER.

[ ☎ ] my muse calls yours in tears.

[ ✪ ] our muses are stuck in an elevator together.

[ ◐ ] my muse is having a sleepover with your muse.

[ ✿ ] my muse attempts to cook dinner for your muse.

[ ◈ ] my muse makes a drunk confession to your muse.

[ ღ ] my muse makes an attempt to cheer your muse up.

[ ✦ ] my muse pushes yours out of frustration/anger.

[ ❢ ] my muse discovers yours all bloodied and bruised.

[ ➤ ] my muse accidentally punches your muse in the face.

[ ⌚ ] my muse recalls their favorite memory with your muse.

[ ✜ ] my muse collapses in front of yours, all bloodied and bruised.

[ ☯ ] my muse tells yours that they never want to see them again.

[ ✈ ] my muse asks yours to accompany them on a trip/mission/etc.

[ ● ] my muse catches yours snooping through their belongings.

[ ☻ ] my muse wakes up in your muse’s closet the night after a party.

[ ✌ ] my muse reaches out to yours after months of no communication.

[ ☢ ] the car broke down in an unfamiliar part of town, and our muses are lost.

[ ✠ ] it’s three in the morning and my muse unexpectedly arrives at your muse’s home.

[ ☁ ] the entire city is without power due to a storm, and our muses run into each other during a supply run.

[iyoonssaem-blog]

How does your character react to stress situations? Defensively? Aggressively? Evasively?

Depends on with who he’s dealing it with. When he faces the stress alone, Seungyoon will tend to keep his anger to himself even though he still gets frustrated. He tends to sulk by making incoherent sound and mumble to himself, but solve it without anyone’s help. When he’s involved in a trouble with strangers, Seungyoon will most likely taken aback in the beginning, might get defensive if he’s cornered but still suppressing himself from saying too much. If he’s arguing with close friends, Seungyoon will be more vocal about his anger to get his points immediately crossed. 

[rp-meme-glaceon]

Ask my muse questions about their past

Get specific! Ask about the home life, their experiences, incidents that have affected them, etc!

[oc-growth-and-development]

What kind of teacher would your OC be?

[iyoonssaem-blog]

He wants to be a teacher who influences his students to be proud of who they are. 

Seungyoon was coming from a broken family, which is seen as a negative notion in public. People looked down on his mother and Seungyoon’s classmates bullied him for being poor. But despite the hardship, Seungyoon was raised by a supportive mother who encouraged whatever Seungyoon decided to pursue. From music to his education,  Seungyoon grows up to be an assertive human being, where he doesn’t let anyone put down his opinion and passion to teaching. Handling children has always been his great virtue since Seungyoon was young, and he knows how to cater to their needs. Instead of just being their friends, Seungyoon wants to support the young kids from the start and let them be confident on their skin and talents. 

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

Life is so much simpler when you stop explaining yourself to people and just do what works for you.

the_positivequote (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

[iyoonssaem-blog]

First Day

It was difficult to loosen his grip on the guitar strap hanging on his shoulder, when his audience was staring at him so intently. His little audience. They were sitting on the individual tiny chair around the tiny table that fit for six to eight people. Principal Kim, who was an old lady in her bob gray hair and round glasses perching on her nose; at times she pushed it back to the bridge when the glasses was about to slide off her nose. She watched Seungyoon from one corner of the room, in front of the class, with her teacherly smile. She introduced him as Teacher Yoon; which gradually became the man’s nickname throughout the entire pre-school since the first day Seungyoon started his job as a teacher. He insisted to use Teacher Seungyoon, but gave up after few attempts because Principal Kim refused to correct herself. “Doesn’t Teacher Yoon sound friendlier? It’s easier for kids to remember you, too,” she reasoned. Although, Seungyoon believed his new name worked in the kids’ favor since the previous teacher he replaced had similar name. “So he is Teacher Yoon, too?” One of the boys questioned after Principal Kim introduced him. “But he’s a male.” Obviously, child, Seungyoon talked to himself. “Hello, kids,” he started, waving a hand as if it was a standard protocol to introduce himself. “My name is Teacher Kang Seungyoon, but as Principal Kim said, you may call me Teacher Yoon (read: Yoon Ssaem). I hope we can get along well.” “What are you bringing there?” The girl on the front row asked, pointing at the faux leather guitar case Seungyoon was bringing to the room. “Why are you carrying two bags?” Seungyoon saw her eyes shifted to his other bag, which was just a regular bag where he kept his personal belongings. What a curious girl. “That’s a good question!” He cheered and put one knee down to the ground. Seungyoon pulled the strap off his shoulder and laid it on the floor so the entire class could see. He tugged on the locks until they clicked open, then Seungyoon took the instrument out by gripping on the neck. It was an acoustic guitar, a normal size, with a light colored wood, shining against the light, and the lean neck where the strings were ringing when Seungyoon accidentally strummed them. He rested the wooden body on his thigh, another hand loosely held on the neck. Some of the kids on the back row tables walked over and gathered, with eyes brightly opened. “This is a guitar case, where I keep my guitar in. With this bag, you can carry the instrument to play it anywhere and anytime. Does anyone ever try playing guitar?” Seungyoon didn’t hesitate on his persuasion toward the children, and it worked well. It seemed Principal Kim didn’t have to worry about the class throwing tantrum toward the new teacher. At least three people raised their hands to answer Seungyoon’s question, and the other kid shouted that his father played guitar at home. “I see. This one might be too big for you guys to play with, but someday, we might try to play ukulele. How’s that?” The kids were cheering enthusiastically. “Those who want to touch this guitar please line up!” He suggested, and the children immediately followed. They stood up from their chair and made two rows in front of him. One by one, they reached out with their tiny hands to stroke the guitar, at times strumming the strings while Seungyoon held a guitar chord so they could hear the melodious tone. Kang Seungyoon dreamt to be a kindergarten teacher, and his acquaintances used to mock him for having a particular dream. They didn’t understand why a young man, with a smart brain and endless potential decided to work in a low salary job. He could be an engineer, a doctor, or a rock star if he wanted to advance his music ability. Some people said he was being lazy, trying to live an easy life compared to other people around his age. He didn’t understand, why making some children smile over his existence was something to look down upon. Little did they know, seeing the children’s excitement over the small matter worthed thousand times more than adults’ close-minded thoughts over his small happiness. He had the entire class’s attention of 30 people in one go, and some people were still looking for it by doing malicious stuffs. He determined to teach these small people, to see the world differently, so they wouldn’t grow up to be those awful human being. Seungyoon was sure he was in the right path.

[oc-growth-and-development]

What accent does your OC have? What do other OCs think of their accent?

[iyoonssaem-blog]

Kang Seungyoon was born and raised in Busan, South Korea. He lived there until high school before moving to Seoul and pursuing his bachelor degree. His hometown is known for its thick, particular strong accent which has become the region's identity and Seungyoon has never been embarrassed on using his dialect on the first year of college, but he learned how to speak less of his Busan accent as he got ready to graduate from college. His colleague never minded his accent when he was speaking, but the professor at times reminded him to learn how to not use it, since Seungyoon was aiming to work in Seoul.

[godsqeed-archive]

baudellare:

previously, with:  seungyoon + casper

“me? you’re the one who’s suddenly acting strange!” she frowns at him. the previously gentle hold she hand on his hands growing tighter as she studies his visage. her suspicion growing, thinking that this might be a prank on his part. she’s come to learn that seungyoon’s eyes are very telling. through them, she can tell whether he’s joking or not. this time, however, she finds no sign of laughter there. “you’re making me so nervous– know what? i’ll close my eyes and you just go ahead and say it, okay? if this is a prank… yoon… i swear.” 

everything else is background noise to her now, no different from television static. distant murmurs and footsteps, the sound of seungyoon’s breathing, the waters of the hangang. all of these things slowly lulled her into a false sense of security; her guard let down for the briefest of moments, only to be taken advantage of by fate or something like it. 

in an instant, she’s pulled out of her bubble; too surprised to get a word out, even as she almost trips over her own feet. this can’t be happening– but the scene continues on and on. casper’s words are lost to the noise that has now jumped back to the fore much too loudly. but she cared little for what he had to say; knowing him, han was certain it was nothing more than intoxicated blabber.

and she had no patience nor time to listen to it.

but his grip on her was too strong to break free of and the more she fought against it, the tighter it seemed to get; so much so that she could feel her palm slowly growing cold. 

what follows happens in a series of flashes:

( she manages to force her arm out of casper’s grasp just as seungyoon steps in between them. her wrist hitting the nearby lamppost with such strength that it makes the metal reverberate; breaking her beloved watch in the process. the pain spreads rapidly, blindingly; and she reaches for seungyoon, finding his shoulder first, then his arm, before wrapping hers around his middle. “please, let’s just go” urgently whispered in his ear. )

It’s too much. Between his dedication to get Haneul to listen to him and the whirlwind of mindless thoughts clogging up his head, everything is happening far too fast for him to comprehend. Irony was once his friend, but it seems that these days it has brought him nothing but trouble—or perhaps that is karma, finally ready to kick his ass. Hard. For all the times he’s managed to run; for all the times he laughed in the face of danger and all the times in which he outsmarted all things dark and doom, karma has gotten to him, too. This battle is not one from which he can run, but one that he’ll have to chase, and he cannot do that when he cannot focus. 

Why is this nagging stranger trying so very hard to get on his last nerve?

He loses his grip for a split second, but it is enough for her to break free. Louder and louder the voices seem to grow inside of his head. They’ve got him caught up entirely, no matter how hard he tries to fight them ( he doesn’t stand a chance—not anymore ).

‘Haneul-ah.’

There is no saying how he could have possibly missed the ways in which his actions had hurt her, whether they be on purpose or not. He doesn’t even flinch when the watch breaks or when she turns her back to him once more. No. On the contrary; he remains frozen in place for about a second or three, and then finally,

finally,

he snaps.

It isn’t Haneul. It’s him. The stranger. The way in which he has the audacity to order him around and to paint him a monster. Who exactly does he think he is? ‘I’m taking her with me, can’t you see?’ Teeth clenched, he tries his best to look the man straight into his eyes, hands blindly reaching for the ballerina another time. ‘This is none of your business, so stay out of it.’

It doesn’t matter if he is her friend.

It doesn’t matter if she hates him.

It doesn’t matter if none of this makes sense to either of them, or if it makes sense to Casper.

He needs her. There is nothing or nobody he can think of that can replace the thought of her, and Casper always gets what he wants. What little sense of logic and empathy he had left, it all has evaporated into a black hole of desperation. Whoever this guy is, she shouldn’t be with him, too—and so he pulls. Again. Fixates his eyes on hers this time, his expression swinging between irritation, confusion and fear. 

‘Don’t go with him. I really need to talk to you. Don’t go. Come with me.’

[00ksy-deactivated20181106]

the unknown blond stranger continued to pursue her and treated seungyoon as if he was a speck of dust. in many occasions, often seungyoon would not let this kind of mistreatment bothered him, but next to haneul he could’t resist to fight for what–in this case, who–was important for him. her arm around his midriff was an additional assurance that his presence mattered. the sound of the metal stroke against her wrist awakened a new nerve burst inside him. seungyoon shifted closer and stepped in between the two, blocking her from the blond man’s view. he stood tall like a fort, the softness in his eyes transformed into threatening eyes. 

“she’s. with. me.” seungyoon dropped a full stop in every words, emphasizing how every words were equally important. “whatever business you have with her, please spare another time for it because I’m not letting her go for you.” from the corner of his eyes, he caught some passerby began to take interest on the sudden street show before them. “let’s not make a scene here, okay?”

[godsqeed-archive]

baudellare:

“…on the other hand, i’m a very light sleeper. when i first moved into my apartment, even the creaking of the wood floors would wake me up.” she recalls this with a laugh, a hint of nostalgia for when everything felt new to her. independence was an adventure, living alone was a dream– until it slowly became lonely. happiness, it seemed to her, was always fleeting in the end. as with all good things. it’s this nature that makes it even more special, she supposes. like this moment they were now sharing; a season’s end, uncertainty lingering in the air. 

even now she harbors a quiet dread for the inevitable. home seems so empty compared to this; to having company. to laughing freely and forgetting any nagging worry– if only for a few hours; hours which she wishes could stretch on and on. but if there’s one thing she’s learnt about loneliness, it’s that it follows. she can hop on a plane going anywhere and still feel that weight after the thrill of it all has subsided. it’s inexplicable yet familiar. you’ll get used to it, haneul. it’s fine. 

the sky shifts as the evening progresses, the sound of his voice adding color to the horizon’s darkening palette. “lee minho isn’t really my type.” she corrects him, clicking her tongue in feigned distaste. following the path he’s created carefully, though she finds herself unable to look away from the scenery before them. “…still, you should have said hello. i was waiting for you.” she smiles, smally, half hidden in shadow. unsure of what to do or say next– something about the rest of his words had her feeling on edge. 

and haneul knows it could all be in her head. melancholy tends to seep into everything, and she’s ever vulnerable to its effects. needless worry. restlessness. thinking of the worst. the exhausting cycle. still, she puts on a facade of calmness, nodding to him as she takes his hand with both of hers. a gentle, reassuring squeeze. surely this is more of a comfort to her than it is to him, but in that moment, anything that would keep her grounded would suffice.

“if you say so. i trust that should i faint, you’ll catch me before i break anything. deal?”

Oblivion. It’s peaceful—more so than anything else. It is why he lives the way that he does; why he drinks to the point of blacking out (and blocking out; his feelings most of all).

There’s few things in this world that Casper doesn’t know how to handle. He has his way with solving riddles and getting out of the most impossible situations. Ask him anything and he will be able to find an answer. It is part of the genes he inherited from his dearly beloved father, really, but the demigod just likes to think that he is smart. However, there is one thing he has never learned how to decode, and that is as frustrating to him as much as it is confusing.

So what does he do? He avoids having to deal with it altogether. It’s always worked out fine for him (but much like everything else in life, there is a limit to how long one can keep running).

And he’s gotten there. He’s reached—no crossed that line. He’s crossed it many years ago when his mother was first admitted to the hospital and there had been nobody to turn to. Kept on running still, and when he found himself unable to ignore the aching any longer, he numbed it with alcohol. He ran and he drank, and drank, and drank. One would wonder how he could possibly still be alive, but again, he should be thanking his father’s genes for that.

(  ’I need to talk to her.’             ‘Sir, she might not wake up anymore–’ ‘Let me in, she’ll wake up when she hears my voice.’            ‘We cannot let anyone in at this moment.’ ‘It wasn’t a question. Let me in or I’ll find my own way in.’            ‘As always, we are doing all that we can, but we cannot allow any visitors right now.’ ‘I told you I’d find my way in.’            ‘Security?!’  )

Sometimes it is better not to have the answers to everything. As the ever so popular saying goes: ignorance is bliss, after all. A heart’s only as heavy as one allows it to become. The mind can be easily silenced, too. Alcohol is his friend; rationality is not. Even then, there is a limit. It’s been days since he had last taken some proper rest, and barely an hour since he had last finished yet another bottle of liquor. It has become hard to distinguish what is real from what is not; even harder to walk in a straight line. His mind tells him to sleep before he breaks, but the voice is no more than a distant whisper in the far back of his head. The threats he had made to the hospital had been no more than just that: threats. It seemed that even his powers had started to fail him, and he had been kicked out before he could do so much as try. Hallucinations are next in line, he assumes, and so he can only scoff at the sound of a voice that is far too familiar (even in this state, it triggers feelings buried deep within).

He’ll ignore it, and it will go away. Ten seconds. Twenty. Twenty-five. Fruitless—in fact, her image seems to grow all the more vivid as seconds pass (and then he gives in to temptation, once again).

His mind is blank, but his heart, for once, is not. A silent cry for help, and the golden luck that runs through his veins to lead him to the one person he doesn’t only want by his side, but also the only person he truly needs. Frankly, he should be more grateful to his father and his damned genes—but if it wasn’t for him, would he ever be in this position in the first place?

What a fucking joke.

‘Haneul-ah.’ It’s almost naturally that his fingers slip around her wrist and pull her towards him. His hold on her is tight; afraid that none of it is real, or that she might just slip away again. ‘You’re really here. I need to talk to you.’ The sudden movements cause him to lose his balance for a split second, but it is enough to have him crashing into the person standing beside her. Still, he doesn’t do so much as glance at him, nor does he notice that the moment is anything but an appropriate one. He doesn’t care, either. Doesn’t don him any explanation when he tugs her into the opposite direction. ‘Come with me, it is important.’ And it is. No matter how hard he tries not to feel, his eyes tell everything that his heart cannot; they beg for her to please just listen. Is it selfish? Definitely so, but when had he ever claimed himself not to be in the first place?

[00ksy-deactivated20181106]

there was still a quick jolt sipping through his skin when he met her hands. seungyoon knew, he was ruined. the moment he took advantage of her kindness and grew different feelings, seungyoon perceived he was going downhill. he planned to keep this part of him a secret, until that night he saw her with someone else that was not him. he brought a self-interpreted sentiment for her in a form of scented bouquet and innocent smile that night, but missing the chance to convey everything. at that moment, it was the first and the last. 

yet, all the usual bickering and the laughter they shared were more on the melancholy state today. she was softer, and her words were a short spell, locking back a heart that was about to combust into ashes. the fire which spark was useful for him during the long idle time. I think I’m in love with you, son haneul. and that’s it. the words was stuck in his throat now, a battle between letting it out or not, when she looked exquisite under the dim sky. “W, what are you talking about?” he questioned, in a careful tone. “You’re saying like we’re about to say goodbye.” 

For him, it would be one. He wished he could go further with the way she’s holding his hand. More reassuring pressure, more warmth. 

But before all the imagery went wild, they were shattered by a figure who suddenly stole her attention. he was as pale as a paper, as thin as bones, a frigid aura which was a contrary to the lady in front of him although they were sharing a similar frame. “excuse me,” seungyoon cut off, attempting to come in between. before he knew it, he threw a question one after another. he didn’t like this guy, he made seungyoon felt uncomfortable. “what are you doing? who are you? she’s with me. get your hands off of her.”

[00ksy-deactivated20181106]

baudellare:

there’s a slight breeze that rustles the leaves overhead, a mundane detail to most, but the sound of it colors her vision with specks of sky blue. not too different from the color of his voice– something akin to a calm sea. glassy, almost transparent in hue. “three to four hours is considered alright?” instead of concern, there’s amusement in her tone, nodding to him knowingly as a sigh slips past her lips. “i can’t remember the last time i slept for a full eight hours– i don’t even know if i can still do it. my brain just wakes up automatically now. the directress calls me a human alarm clock; it’s embarrassing.”

it had been at least a week or so since she’s gone out for a proper walk, one that didn’t start from the studio and ended at the waiting car out front. she minded it little, at least until recently when the inexplicable restlessness that’s been plaguing her for months began to feel more palpable. as if something was completely off– but she knew not what it was. his invitation, came at just the right time– and this encore to an already wonderful evening? a welcome reprieve. “the flowers, seungyoon-ah. it’s only been a couple of months or so, don’t tell me you’ve aged that much in such a short span of time!” though, the very same could be said about her. she remembers the evening in fragments, vague ones, which she chalks up to tiredness.

“kang seungyoon. tall guy, quite good-looking.” she does her best to mimic a male voice, hand raised over her head, just about meeting the top of his own. “the guard was under the impression that you were either an actor or the son of someone important. i asked him if he didn’t hear wrongly and that it was actually lee minho who left me flowers, but, alas–” she jests, nudging his side playfully. noticeably tickled pink by the mere memory. “he told me something else, something about it being the last time? but i really can’t recall the rest of it. i was hoping you waited backstage, though, because i got you something too.”

“it is, for my standard. Have you ever stayed awake for two days straight? Been there. Not good for your brain. You began talking like a crazy person. Everything also put you in daze,” he stated with an annoyed face while remembering the night when Seungyoon gave up on his senses. It was for the sake of the team. People could’ve told him to stop and rest, but Seungyoon was not a quitter, for that matter. He continued the walk with hands hidden in his jacket’s pockets. “Whether you sleep for eight hours or only an hour, it doesn’t matter. What matters is if you’re good at waking up or not,” he chuckled, indicating himself as a bad example. “You’re lucky if you’re good at it. I would sleep like a log until the very last minute. I’m not an early riser.”

It was too bad that the scent of spring was no longer there. although they could still make use of the remaining cold breeze blowing during the sunset, making their walk more enjoyable before they decided on the stopping place. A park would be nice, Seungyoon suggested. An open air and natural views instead of coffee shops and their soft buzz. He had enough of meeting people today, so they headed there. A good place to talk about things without having strangers around you, giving them chances to eavesdrop. There were things he needed to clear up today.

His mouth stifled a laughter over the description, a rarity coming from her but nice to hear. “I should’ve told him that I was Lee Minho. I regret I didn’t do that. That would thrill you.” He looked down, watching his steps as they were walking along the sloping ground, a pathway of flattened grass which ended to the fenced bay. it was already the river before their eyes. “Did I really say it was the last time? I can’t remember?” Sometimes a little lie would be beneficial, especially when you tried to move on from things you couldn’t have. Seungyoon cleared his throat. “It was close to your performance time, and you seemed preoccupied by something–someone–when I saw you, so I didn’t want to be the third wheel. But I watched your stage, though. It was great, as usual.” It felt cooler closer to the water surface, and it made him hungry. “You got something for me?” he was excited by the news. Seungyoon turned to meet her face, and the light on his lips dimmed in instant. “I…also have something else to say to you. It might scare you, but…you need to know.”