Solitude

s a child I was always playing alone. The nearest neighbor lived miles away and I was comfortable with my solitude. I used to stare at the night sky. I thought the stars were other lighthouses standing in a black velvet sea, guiding space ships. And when they twinkled they were greeting us by flashing the light. I would flash ours back. It was almost like having a friend. When my father died and the light stopped working, I felt lonely for the first time in my life. I can no longer communicate with the starry sky. You must think I’m strange. AU RP - Selective - Literate

[exotwt]

[lighthousehan-blog]

theseelenine:

Internally, his heart joyfully sings praises for intuitive yet non-intrusive kind souls just like the shimmering savior in front of him. Usually people succumb to the temptation of interrogation to curious strangers but he can sense that the other male has no problem immediately grasping his increasingly panicked state of mind. But he doesn’t know if he should allow himself to be enveloped by a sense of comfort or caution that the stranger potentially relates to him - or he is overanalysing everything again. He doesn’t deserve to receive so many genuine smiles from the same person willingly offering a lending a hand during their precious time. 

“Book binding?” he is sure his tone is coloured with the same undiluted disbelief of others once the male’s occupation is clarified. Perhaps his reaction is so typical that the other proceeds to explain further more before Jaebum can interject about how modern the country is. “Interesting. Do you make enough revenue to cover your rent in this area or do you have supporting side income for expenses?” the subtle gesture is highly appreciated for him and he swears he will repay the man back someday as he ducks into the store first. 

The fresh scent of pages mixing with scribbled ink soothes his frazzled nerves and he feels slightly better. Yet his veins still buzz with wariness as he tries to get accustomed to his new environment although the store floods his nostrils with one of his favourite scents. Still fretful, his head jerks up in alarm when the male begins to speak again. Responding with a humble bow of his head, he mutters. “That is really kind of you to offer but I don’t want to disturb you anymore than I already have. I can sit out here if you want to continue with your work uninterrupted. Or I can sit in the back if you don’t want potential customers coming in to see me…” with a loose gesture to himself, he lets the other interpret the rest of his words since his knees are still shaky and he feels as if all his life force has been sucked out of his face. 

Tea sounds like an incredibly calming luxury at this point in time but he doesn’t want to infringe anymore on the man’s kindness. “Do you have a business card or something where I have your details and get in touch with you again? I’ll return the favour to you.” he speaks slowly and concisely although he is trying to sort out his swarming anxious thoughts attacking his brain and fogging up his grip on reality. 

     "I do make enough revenue,” Han replied, feeling like talking about the financial situation of his enterprise with a stranger was a bit odd. He couldn’t complain, though. Genuine interest - or something that seemed like it - was always welcome. “But it’s not extremely profitable. I’m trying to save up for a loan so I can buy the shop and let the owners retire, but I know I won’t be able to hire anyone for a long time after that. We are going to have to see how it all works out by then. For now, I’m just someone with a modest paycheck.”

     He nodded towards the back room behind the counter and gestured at the man to follow him. 

     “I wouldn’t have offered to help if I couldn’t afford it,” he reminded him. “As you can see, the shop’s empty now. I will prioritize any potential customers once I have you sitting down, and color has returned to your cheeks.” He chuckled playfully. “Most of our business comes from libraries and museums, as I might have explained earlier. It’s rare to have someone just wander in spontaneously. We get our usual library deliveries in the morning. It’s always just a stack of the day’s newspapers. And of course there are the museums, but they tend to call beforehand.”

     He let the other find a seat for himself around the table in the back room, that served both as a working space and a storage as well. The kitchenette was a tiny structure with room for only one stove, a small fridge, and an electric kettle, but it was all Han needed to survive lunch hour. For now, he prepared two cups of tea instead of one, and left the water heating up.

     “Do you need anything else? A glass of water, maybe? It’s nice and quiet here, isn’t it? I get a little stressed in crowds, too, but I only notice how much it affects me when I find myself relaxing in somewhere calm. Oh, a business card? Hold on. We do have some, but I have no idea where... Ah, once the water is hot, just go ahead and boil yourself a cup. I need to go through a few drawers. Usually no one asks for our contact information if they have already found their way here...”

[lighthousehan-blog]

flxtent:

That gave him pause. What was it about the light that drew him to it? He was a natural in darkness. He did not thrive in shadows, but they lived off him, fed from him. So why this longing? Why the need to chase something he shouldn’t have. “Because I want it,” he whispered, the answer falling from his tongue before he’d had the chance to consider it’s repercussions. “I want to know… what it feels like to live without shadows on your shoulders. I want to burn because it is better than feeling nothing at all.” And if he burned, perhaps the darkness would go away. Perhaps he could stay in the light, in their light long enough that this would all go away-

A foolish dream. A child’s fancy. Leo laughed sadly, bitterly. He spoke in half-truths and even that was too much for Han to here. The closer he came to the truth, the closer he was to hurting Han. He wouldn’t do that. Not like that person had done to him before. Leo had hurt so many people - Han would not be another name on a list.

“Cowardice and trust are different things,” Leo argued without conviction. He met Han’s eyes but felt no desire to implore him to listen, to understand. He was reluctant, not because of his own lack of trust, but because Han did not deserve the weight of Leo’s burdens. This should never have been about him in the first place. He was more similar to light than he’d though mere seconds ago; he drew people in, the quietness of him a reassurance before they saw what festered underneath. But despite this, Leo did not let go of Han’s hand. He did not want to. His grip became almost desperate.

Han felt the same as he always had. The hand was larger now, the skin not as soft as it once was. But it was his hand. It was his compassion and his guidance and his hope. Then there was Leo; all too altered, too broken to resemble what he’d been when they were kids. “What happens when you don’t want to be yourself anymore?” Voice shaking, the emotion all too evident in the way his eyes searched desperately for that belief that Han kept offering him.

And then he looked away, unable to meet those eyes again. The only thing that kept him rooted to the spot was the grip that remained on his fingers. “I’m glad to have met you again Han, but- but it’s for my own selfish reasons.” Leo closed his eyes. “I hurt someone. I hurt someone in a way that… cannot be undone.” He begged, he pleaded with silent thoughts, that Han would not read too far into those words. He held his breath and waited for the moment the hand in his slipped away from him.

    It was all awfully complex, so very deep, but Han refused to give in and admit that he had no idea what Leo was talking about. He absorbed his words and tried to apply them to his own experiences, wondering whether they had anything in common. He was confident that they did. Most feelings were universal, after all, no matter how someone would wish that their turmoil was a personal struggle. He gave Leo a long, thoughtful look. 

    “You say it like you can’t,” Han finally said. It was not even a question. “But I think you can. If you just face everything bravely, deal with anything the shadows throw at you... It’s like a game.” Han’s heart throbbed. Was he too cruel with the comparison, or too accurate? Even if it was all about Leo? He could not help but see similarities with his own life. Games were so cruel, so simple, the best out of all coping mechanisms. “If you are persistent enough, if you remain confident that the prize will be worth it, you will be alright.”

    He had never wanted to sound so selfish, so materialistic, someone focused on the prize and the prize alone. He took another moment to collect his thoughts. 

     “Leo, I think you have just lost your goal,” he said, realizing he was simply stating the obvious. “It will stop hurting if you find it again, and realize that your efforts have not been for nothing.”

     Hearing what was on Leo’s mind - guilt of hurting someone, as innocent as it was - was almost a relief. He gave Leo’s hand a squeeze and thought about all the people he had personally hurt while playing the game. 

      “I don’t think it’s something that can’t be forgiven,” Han said slowly. “Pain is an inevitable part of human existence. You are not personally responsible of their suffering, even if something you did might have resulted in them realizing how much they are hurting. Even if you had done something horribly wrong, they are to blame as well. You are just a human, and they are, too.”

     Yet something about Leo’s stiff form, the slight sweat of his palm, the stutter of his words and the dark undertone, made Han feel uncomfortable. It was not a matter of Leo himself, as his childhood friend and someone he cherished, but something deeper. When listening to Leo, he felt like he was listening to a language that was close to his own, but made no sense. It was like hearing someone explain the finesse of computers while being technically inept, or having someone talk about sex while being a virgin.

[lifeinpoetry]

You are trying to say your own name, / but can’t pronounce it; you are afraid your skin is turning / translucent.

Kenzie Allen, from “Dress Like Pocahontas, Then Let’s Make Love,” published in DIALOGIST (via medeae)

[lighthousehan-blog]

theseelenine:

As someone who is perpetually frozen in the mindset of a panic-striken soldier, he is bemused with his gut instinct reluctantly admitting that there isn’t a miniscule of danger rolling off from the lithe figure of a boy with the warmest pair of eyes. A rolling wave of nausea churns his stomach and all the deafening shrieks and raucous cheerings of the crowd blur into a high-speed bolt of anxiety that sends his entire body into trembles. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he idly wonders of what could have possibly triggered him this time - but the thought gets lost with the cold sweat drenching his hair and lurching of his heart racing at a million miles per hour. 

For a moment, he manages to regain control and plant his conscious firmly back in his body so he can offer a thank you but his parched mouth and dry tongue will him into silence. With a shaky jerk of his head, he vainly attempts to paint a facade of not seeming too freaked out than he really is by interlocking his fingers to desperately control the tremors ripping through his body and he barely chokes out a low guttural string of words, “thank you. What quiet place?” regardless of the stranger’s welcoming warm brown eyes that nostalgically reminds him of Twelve and a shard of anguish cuts up and slices his heart again, his paranoia stubbornly refuses to believe that this is an all good situation - there must be a catch somewhere.

“Sorry for taking up your time,” he darkly mutters under his breath despite how his voice is still cracking with anxiety, not caring whether the male hears him just yet or not. “I’m… I hate big crowds.” is what he can muster up for now as a convincing story. “But thank you, once again.”

     The man seemed pale and erratic, like someone with high fever or paralyzing fears, as they zigzagged through the crowd. Han could sympathize with that, even though crowds no longer made him feel dizzy and anxious. It felt a lot like trying to drag a puppet along, but once they had waded through the worst blockage, the man seemed the relax a little, or at least pay attention to his surroundings and Han. Han tried to ease his nerves with a kind smile. They were half a block away from Han’s shop by then, away from the main street. 

     “I have a small shop this way,” Han explained, surprised by the paranoid tone in the man’s voice. "For book binding. And before you ask, yes, it’s still a thing in the current year,” he chuckled and fished his keys out of his bag. “Mostly for museums, though. After you.” He held the door open so the man could step over the threshold and escape the human jam for good. 

      The shop consisted of two rooms, one for selling hand-bound notebooks and art supplies, ink and reams of paper, empty photo albums for old-fashioned families who would still have paper photos on this digital age, and keychains and bracelets for tourists. The back room was what Han occupied more often, as most customers were employees from museums and libraries, and prone to calling before making a visit. In there he could spend his time with his craft. Or play with his phone and drink tea, since the actual owners of the place were growing old, and rarely came by to scold him. 

     “You don’t look so well, if you don’t mind me saying. I couldn’t really leave you there,” Han said as the door had slammed shut behind them, muffling the noise echoing in the streets. “Would you like to sit down for a bit? I have a stove in the back room, if you’d like some tea. There might be a coffee maker too, but it’s a bit dusty...”

[lighthousehan-blog]

Tagged by : @jessicastrung Tagging:  @hwaiseul @mintaeart @bondae @xphoeminx @xozitao 

Full name: Lu Han Other names: N/A Title: Mr, Age: 27 Gender: Male Origin: Incheon, South Korea. Current location: Incheon, South Korea. Nationality: Korean-American Ethnicity: Chinese. Spoken languages: Korean, Mandarin. Religion: Home made mixture of superstitions and agnosticism.

Sexuality: Homosexual. Height: 175 cm Body type: Slim. Eyes: Brown Tattoos: None Piercings: Ears Scars: A small scar under his lower lip.

Educational background: High school graduate. Social media: Not very internet savvy, used mostly for keeping in touch with friends. Smoking: No Drinking: Yes Drugs: No Athletics: Walking, biking, some soccer. Hobbies: Reading, walking, renovating, taking care of his cat.

Virgin: No Favorite drink: Green tea Favorite food: Pork belly Favorite music: Indie pop Clothing style: Casual, classy, practical

[lighthousehan-blog]

WHAT COLOR IS YOUR MUSE? Tagged by @xozitao Tagging @hwaiseul  @jessicastrung @mintaeart @bondae @shadowraiths @haosk @docedingrvai @lxtent

Han is lightskyblue. #87CEFA “Your dominant hues are cyan and blue. You like people and enjoy making friends. You're conservative and like to make sure things make sense before you step into them, especially in relationships. You are curious but respected for your opinions by people who you sometimes wouldn't even suspect. Your saturation level is lower than average - You don't stress out over things and don't understand people who do. Finishing projects may sometimes be a challenge, but you schedule time as you see fit and the important things all happen in the end, even if not everyone sees your grand master plan. Your outlook on life is bright. You see good things in situations where others may not be able to, and it frustrates you to see them get down on everything.”

[xozitao]

@lighthousehan — It’s time to reunite!

The scenery outside the vehicle had changed. All the big buildings disappeared one by one and life seemed to slow down. Zitao’s blank stare regained curiosity — he had never been this far off of Incheon’s central area, the view of silent countryside confirmed it by the time he could no longer determine his whereabouts. Being ‘lost’ in the middle of nowhere didn’t diminish the fact his destination was clear, there was someone awaiting for his arrival; someone who’d greet and welcome him with open arms.

He could tell the sea was near. He didn’t need to see it, he could sense it right after stepping out of the car and letting the wind play with his hair. Gentle breezes of air carried familiar freshness, coiling the man in memories of something dear and comforting. As if he had been there before, even though he hadn’t. The moment he spent standing still was filled with that feeling alone. Zitao grabbed his backpack, his steps steps appearing steady and determined as he walked, only then starting to feel nervousness trying to climb upon his shoulders. Why was he nervous? Han wasn’t a stranger. 

Then he saw the lighthouse. It looked exactly like Han had described, even better now that he saw it rising in front of him. It wasn’t massive, but somehow the smaller size gave it more character. Somewhere behind his stoic expression there was a smile ready to break surface. He only needed to find Han — perhaps the visitor had already been noticed.

[lighthousehan-blog]

     A person who had spent his childhood and his adulthood within the same few square meters most of the time was prone to noticing the little changes around his surroundings. The lighthouse and the cliff it stood upon were Han’s territory so to speak - as well as his guard cat’s, in a more literal sense - and as he heard the car door slam shut in the distance, he knew it was time to get up and greet the guest. 

     He was already standing on the porch as he saw Zitao climbing up the hill. (Not even an off-road vehicle could make it all the way to the lighthouse.)  The boy had grown, turned almost unrecognizable. He looked oddly out of place in with his aura of an urban kid, someone of importance, surrounded by peaceful countryside, the hills and the ocean. 

     The rural autumn had come early compared to the city. Trees were already barren, the grass brown, and Han shuddering in his sweater as he waited. The path up was even muddier than usually, and he hoped Zitao had not brought his best shoes with him.

     Once they were within talking distance of each other and Zitao had without a doubt spotted him standing there, Han found himself at loss of words. 

    “Wow,” he finally laughed. “You actually came. It’s so good to see you, Zitao. Welcome to my humble abode.” It felt strange to talk Mandarin again. Sometimes Han found himself doubting whether Korean had become his mother tongue after all, but at times like these he realized that was not the case.

     He opened the door to make room for Zitao to step in. Mi saw his chance and dashed out like an orange lighting bolt, but Han paid him no mind. The cat would always return by dinnertime.

     “Do you have a lot of luggage with you? Do you need any help?” There were only a few steps up  to the entrance, but they had always felt steep with heavy bags. 

[lighthousehan-blog]

xozitao:

He had no intention to wreak havoc in the other’s mind. He didn’t wish to bring back painful memories from several years ago, but his sincere heart wanted to be reassured there was nothing he should worry about regarding the man who now seemed to be all fine; he wasn’t required to talk to Zitao, but if he did, the younger one was all ears, listening.

At this point of the conversation the initial awkwardness had nearly vanished from the singer’s speech, he felt they were already speaking as if they had never even been apart. Almost, that is. The situation could be entirely different when the two finally meet and are face to face after what felt like a brief forever. What a silly thought, both of them struggling to find the right words — or chattering from the first two seconds onward. He didn’t know yet. All he knew was the fact there had to be plenty of things to talk about. Eh, years worth of catching up.

“Hm… It’s good to hear you’re fine. I’m sure there’ll be enough time for me to meet you at some point and see how much of an adult you’re nowadays. Soon, I hope… We should keep each other updated in the meantime.” Zitao began to grow tired of the concrete wall his gaze was laid on. As plain and boring as his view was, the ongoing conversation felt like the opposite. “Right now it’s very busy here, but prepare yourself for a visit.”

It was a promise he was ready to make. Maybe their friendship had just received another chance to flourish. Zitao believed everything happened for a reason and the decisions made during this conversation altered the future. He felt serene upon straightening his posture and walking back inside the building, his steps slow and wandering. “I’ll need to get back to work now… It was nice to hear from you,” the man confessed, keeping up the honest manner of speech. “Make sure you stay well, okay?”

     Sometimes the adult ‘soon’ was synonymous with ‘never’ as Han had learned, but it did fill his chest with hope. Perhaps he was a romantic at heart, but he was certainly a firm believer of happy reunions and reconnecting with half-forgotten childhood friends. Even if it would turn out they had grown too far apart, it would be an experience, and closure to a certain part of his life. 

     “It’s good to live in 2017, isn’t it? There is always time for a quick text message, as long as you won’t let it slip your mind. Oh, I don’t mean to pressure you, of course. You must certainly put your career first, but if you ever happen to think of me, just drop me a message. It should keep us connected until we have time to meet up. I will try to make it worth your time and the money you might have to spend for the visit.”

     There was a small pause. Han could hear how Zitao moved around, perhaps making his way to where he had come from in an attempt to seek for some privacy. Hopefully the phone call had not stolen too much time from his busy schedules. 

     “I will. You too, Zitao. Don’t work too hard or you might get ill,” Han said. Everything he wanted to say had been said now, and it was time to hang up. “I work on weekdays, but other than that, my life is the same as ever. You are welcome any time, okay? I hope you’ll be well. And text me!”

     With that  he hung up, saving them from awkward goodbyes, and looking forward to the future. 

[aerisms]

stay warm~

[shadowraiths-archived-blog]

@lighthousehan​

     "A poet, huh?” Han asked and pressed his chin against the palm of his hand, smiling playfully. He genuinely could not tell whether Suwon was joking or not. He was a serious man, and often uncomfortable when people around him went overboard with mischief or enthusiasm, but perhaps he was not only a poet, but a jokester too?

     “Well, did you swipe left? Did the date not work out?” Han asked. He was still finding it hard to believe that a man with Suwon’s height and profession struggled to find someone to warm his heart, or even his bed, but perhaps there was some specific reason for it. It was not like Han had ever had a chance to find out for himself. 

      “Oh, I love autumn,” Han said, taking the bait willingly. “I prefer shirts with long sleeves, and I love sweaters and jackets. The air is so refreshing, too, and rain is romantic. I was planning to spend Chuseok with Mi, my cat, since I don’t have living relatives in this country, and I doubt my boyfriend will be able to make it. So we are in the same boat, huh? I’m not one for huge celebrations anyway. It warms my heart to know other people find the time to be together, but I don’t need things like that for myself. it’s a shame your parents can’t make it, though… Do you have siblings? Grandparents?”

Immediately Suwon felt himself become guarded.  Talking about his grandfather was never fun.  But it was something he couldn’t escape.  People always wanted to know about family at some point.  He just had to try to skip the part where he found the man laying in a pool of his own blood.  Not hard at all, eh?

“I’ve got a younger sister and an older brother.  My brother lives in Singapore.  My sister lives in Canada.  They’ve both given passes for missing Chuseok. That’s what happens when they make more money than everyone else in the family combined.  They still send well wishes and envelopes full of money for every holiday, so mom and dad don’t mind that they only get a five minute skype call for each holiday.”  He grumbled a bit, but kept on.  “My brother,  Subin works for some start up company and hasn’t hurt since he got hired.  My sister, Sujin married a foreigner who has major political ties in Canada.  He’s much older and while my parents were originally against it, now that they have a child together, they’re a bit more understanding.”

He scratched at his kneecap, fingers slipping beneath the hold in his jeans.  “Uhm, my nephew’s name isn’t Korean.  In fact, it’s super dumb in my opinion, but the kid is adorable.  They call him Wilbur and all that makes me think of is Charlotte’s web.  Here’s hoping he doesn’t speak to spider’s when he’s old enough to talk.”

Maybe if he rattled on enough, Han wouldn’t notice he skipped talking about his grandparents.

[lighthousehan-blog]

     Han’s eyes widened.

    “In Singapore and Canada?” he asked. He had never traveled farther than the eastern coast of China, and it had only been twice when he had been a little boy. The world seemed so huge, so endless and full of life, and he could not imagine packing his bags and moving to the other side of the world, leaving a whole life behind. 

     “Is there a reason for that? Is your whole family eager to travel? Have you traveled, too?” It was not a subject he had expected to talk about at the club, and certainly not with Suwon, yet as they spoke the clumsy, awkward demeanor of the shy man seemed to melt away, and Han was eager to continue on the subject. “Your parents are lucky you’re here. I’m sure they would feel lonely if all of their baby birds had flown off.”

     Han thought about his own family, the smallest he had ever heard of. Most children had a mother and a father at least, even if they lived separately. Suwon’s relationships sounded more complicated, and more interesting. 

     “A huge family sounds so lively. I grew up alone with my father. He was really old for a parent, so I suppose he would be around the same age with your grandparents if he was still alive. Maybe it’s because I grew up surrounded by old people, but I’m always hoping that grandchildren would remember their grandparents at least on special holidays, if never else. I have seen how much it means to them. My employer is quite old, too... Please tell your grandparents hello from me!” The last sentence was meant to be a joke. But who knows, maybe it would cheer an old person up?

[lighthousehan-blog]

shadowraiths:

“I’ve always been a poet.  As hard as people might find it to believe, I’m actually a laureate, or whatever it is people call educated folks.  But yeah, I’m one of those.”  Suwon smiled softly, scuffing his foot along the floor as he leaned back in his seat.  He envied Han.  Or well, not completely.  He wasn’t looking to find love in all the right places.  The police officer was just looking for someone to tolerate him more than one evening.  Hell, even one evening would have been find.

“And yes, I have used the app.  Swipe right.  Get a date.  I’ve even allowed some people to set me up on blind dates.  But that’s enough about me, you know.  I want to learn a little bit more about what’s been going on in your life.  Or you know, we can discuss something completely different I suppose.”  His face lit up, the dimple on his left cheek becoming a little more apparent. “How you liking this autumn weather?” It was a definite cop out to get away from the topic of his lack of love life.  He just hoped that Han wouldn’t take offense to it.

“I’m not even going home for Chuseok.  No reason to.  Mum and Pa don’t want to celebrate it.  And I’m working a couple of things for the department.  Crime doesn’t rest while the country is on vacation and such.  If it did, I’d love it.  But it doesn’t.”

     "A poet, huh?” Han asked and pressed his chin against the palm of his hand, smiling playfully. He genuinely could not tell whether Suwon was joking or not. He was a serious man, and often uncomfortable when people around him went overboard with mischief or enthusiasm, but perhaps he was not only a poet, but a jokester too?

     “Well, did you swipe left? Did the date not work out?” Han asked. He was still finding it hard to believe that a man with Suwon’s height and profession struggled to find someone to warm his heart, or even his bed, but perhaps there was some specific reason for it. It was not like Han had ever had a chance to find out for himself. 

      “Oh, I love autumn,” Han said, taking the bait willingly. “I prefer shirts with long sleeves, and I love sweaters and jackets. The air is so refreshing, too, and rain is romantic. I was planning to spend Chuseok with Mi, my cat, since I don’t have living relatives in this country, and I doubt my boyfriend will be able to make it. So we are in the same boat, huh? I’m not one for huge celebrations anyway. It warms my heart to know other people find the time to be together, but I don’t need things like that for myself. it’s a shame your parents can’t make it, though... Do you have siblings? Grandparents?”

[lighthousehan-blog]

🍸+ Han, tell us about a sexcapade - you don't have to get too in depth, but share something fun.

Send 🍸+ a question and my muse will answer while drunk.

     “You know what I’m famous for, right? My home. It’s such a special place to me. I guess I could say it’s holy, even. Not in a religious way, but in a much more personal, earthy sense. It’s where I have been living ever since I was born, and it’s where I want to die, too, when I’m 101 years old and fully satisfied with life. Even years after I had already grown up and started the times of sexual exploration, it felt really wrong to fuck in the same bed where my father used to tell bed time stories to me. The only thing more disgraceful than that would be to fuck in the lantern tower, because that is the heart of the very place.

    “Which, initially, is exactly what I did. Surprisingly I don’t regret it one bit. I love showing the place to people, and I love answering their questions about the history or the mechanics even if it’s about as impersonal as being a tour guide. It makes me proud. I also climb up alone quite often, either for maintenance or just to find a peace of mind. However, I have brought a lover there. I would never ever do so with a one night stand, not even if I was feeling really experimental and thrilled for the night, but this time I did. I suppose it was to make it just that much more special. I often feel like the ocean is watching over me. Perhaps it’s an exhibitionist quirk of mine to do it in such a secluded place, surrounded by windows to all directions. The floor was so uncomfortable, and climbing back down was quite painful. I got a bruise on my hip and on my knee, but it was definitely worth it.

     “I suppose this is not racy in the usual sense of the word, considering my history, but it was definitely wild in my books.”

[lighthousehan-blog]

Not-so-great Muse Traits

absent-minded | abusive | addict | aggressive | aimless | alcoholic | anxious | arrogant | audacious | bad liar | big mouth | bigot | blindly obedient | blunt | callous | childish | chronic | heroism | clingy | clumsy | cocky | competitive | corrupt | cowardly | cruel | cynical | delinquent | delusional | dependent | depressed | deranged | disloyal | ditzy | egotistical | envious | erratic | fickle | finicky | flaky | frail | fraudulent | guilt complex | gloomy | gluttonous | gossiper | gruff | gullible | hedonistic | humorless | hypochondriac | hypocritical | idealist | idiotic | ignorant | immature | impatient | incompetent | indecisive | insecure | insensitive | lazy | lewd | liar | lustful | manipulative | masochistic | meddlesome | melodramatic | money-loving | moody | naive | nervous | nosy | ornery | overprotective | overly sensitive | paranoid |passive-aggressive | perfectionist | pessimist | petty | power-hungry | proud | pushover | reckless | reclusive | remorseless | rigorous | sadistic | sarcastic | senile | selfish | self-martyr | shallow | sociopathic | sore loser | spineless | spiteful | spoiled |stubborn | tactless | temperamental | timid | tone-deaf | traitorous | unathletic | ungracious | unlucky | unsophisticated | untrustworthy | vain | withdrawn | workaholic

tagged by @jessicastrung

tagging @hwaiseul @mintaeart @bondae @xozitao @shadowraiths (any muse or all of them) @haosk (any muse or all of them) @docedingrvai

[lighthousehan-blog]

haosk:

Even though the two of them were getting soaked while they made a mad dash to the safety and warmth of the building Soohyuk had to admit it was kind of fun. He hadn’t run in the rain since he was a little kid. Even though this wasn’t for fun like it was when he was younger. Even so it still brought back happy memories which made him smile.

“Ah no problem.” He smiles and he responds to the playful bow with one of his own. “Seems so. Can’t blame them for wanting to can we?” He lifts a hand to move his now wet fringe out of his eyes. “Normally I’d say no but since you wouldn’t be able to sleep well I’ll say yes.”

     "Thank you for taking my sleeping schedules into consideration,” Han hummed. 

     The small restaurant was absolutely packed. Apparently the two men were not the only ones who had had the idea of seeking shelter from the rain from any of the open shops. Han was not one for crowds, but there was something intimate, almost romantic, about the atmosphere. It would often happen when people were forced to gather together and take break from their daily routines.

     “Let’s take a seat before all the tables get taken,” Han said and nodded towards the farther corner of the space. There were many people at the bar counter, ordering cheap drinks to excuse their loitering, but not as many interested in lunch quite yet. “The staff looks busy, so I hope you are not in a hurry. But I doubt you would have asked if you really were. Come this way!”

[espacioentreletras]

[lighthousehan-blog]

shadowraiths:

A cheeky grin grew along Suwon’s face.  “Oh.. Oh?  Might have to leave?  You’ve found love?  In this sea of broken hearts and muddled faces, you’ve found someone that you want to settle down with?  That’s amazing.”  

“Me though?”  The grin faded and Suwon slumped back into his seat. “Ha.  I don’t even register anywhere on the scale of love.  I’m down in the dumps and I can’t even attract flies with a pile of shit if you catch my drift.  I downloaded some of those dating apps on my phone and nothing.  Even here, I’ve.. yeah.”  He let the words trail off.  All he could do was shrug it all off.  He just wasn’t meant to find love of any kind.  Or well, not even any kind of quickie.  Shit, Suwon couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been kissed.

“Let’s quickly move away from my love life and come back around to yours.”  His eyebrows wiggled and he tilted his chin up.  “Who has possibly jump started the engine of your heart?”

     “Oh, when did you become so poetic?” Han laughed, genuinely surprised and amused. “Yes, as it turns out. It took me long enough to wade that sea, though. I believe I have earned my happiness after everything I have given to the community, if you know what I mean.” He rolled his eyes playfully, half-joking. It was not like his lover had appeared at the club, anyway. Apparently love was indeed found in the strangest places when least expected.

     “Hmm? Don’t be a stick in the mud, Suwon,” Han said, frowning. “Have you actually tried using that app? Do you know how to?” Somehow he would not have been surprised if it had turned out that the man was not savvy with modern technology. “You have a handsome face, and your occupation is definitely attractive to many. You are a little shy, but I think many people would find it charming, too. Just be more confident, even if you have to fake it until you make it.”

     Suwon was socially awkward without a doubt, but Han had seen worse. Hell, he had slept with worse. 

     “Just a guy,” Han hummed. “I don’t think you would know him. He was never in the club, and doesn’t really spend time with kids my age. He is a little older, and such...” Plus, talking about Iseul’s profession was a bad idea, especially with an officer around.