vincent @lockpick-vincent - Tumblr Blog

want

Like a moth drawn to a flame, The gentle warmth once spring came, The gentle caress of the ocean breeze, The singsong of the forest trees,

I loved you_ The way nature intended Obsessively and naturally

As if the powers that may be_ Decided for me That you were always the one

aofikofi

if all 3 of them were in that train for eternity..

doodles

#art #doodle #colouringishard

penandinkprincess

hi i just created an excel sheet where i can pick a meal and have it autopopulate the ingredients i'll need as a shopping list

i have never felt so smart

penandinkprincess

OH MY GOD I CAN MAKE THEM DROP DOWN LISTS

penandinkprincess

THIS IS TRUE POWER

I NEVER HAVE TO DECIDE WHAT TO EAT OR MAKE A GROCERY LIST AGAIN

I CAN MAKE THE MACHINE DO IT FOR ME, AND ALL I HAVE TO DO IS PICK A FOOD FROM A DROPDOWN LIST

OH MY GOD I'M THE SMARTEST PERSON IN THE GAME

penandinkprincess

HI IF YOU WANNA MAKE THIS

I DID IT IN GOOGLE'S EXCEL BC THAT'S WHAT I HAVE ACCESS TO ON MY PERSONAL DEVICE. I IMAGINE EXCEL EXCEL IS PROB SIMILAR.

penandinkprincess

hi, to make this easier, i made a google account just to make a shareable link for the original i made.

it's viewer only mode, so you can't edit the link itself, but i tested it out, and all you have to do is copy/paste it into a doc of your own, and then you'll be able to edit it no problem.

this way, the only thing you'll need to do is input your own dishes and ingredients and all the formulas will already be good to go.

very rough color study :)

#color #art #my hobby

been trying to study and practice "fundamentals" more. i am struggling

#art #practice #sobbinf

the subscription model can go burn in my backyard i hate it so much grrr bark (ive slept at 1 in the morning for two weeks straight)

cellystickss

a kiss from salvation

lockpick-vincent

the use of negative space for yjh (implodes)

sw4nfire

and I destroy myself, just to justify being

lockpick-vincent

funny little silly me: orv harms me everyday

funny little silly me (again): oo! orv wednesday

yersina

I don't know if you're still open for writing prompts but would you be interested in writing Sung Hyunje being Yoohyun's big brother and not Yoojin? 👀 Like Riette and Noah but worse since it's two crazies instead of one.

I hope you know that the first thing I did after reading through this prompt was whisper “oh my god” in a horrified and yet fascinated tone

There’s no love lost between Hyunje and his parents, really. When he decides to stay overseas for an extra two years to get another degree after finishing his bachelor’s and stay away from them for just that slightest bit longer, he knows he’ll find no protest from them even if he’s doing it on their dime.

Looking down at the small boy in his parents’ living room, though, he thinks that maybe he should’ve at least called home once during the five years that he’s been away.

“Who are you?” he asks curiously.

The boy had frozen in the middle of putting away a carton of milk when Hyunje had let himself into the apartment, but now he slams the refrigerator door shut with more force than necessary and scowls at Hyunje with a truly impressive snarl for a child who can’t be older than ten. “Who are you?” he shoots back.

“I asked first.”

“You’re the one who broke in!”

“This was my apartment first.” He doesn’t bother to hide his amusement at the boy’s frustration with his answer. “I used to live here with my parents, but I haven’t been home in a while.”

The boy frowns. “Well, I’ve never seen you before in my life.” Hyunje hums absently and takes a seat at the dining table, sensing that this might take a while. “Hey! Don’t just sit at the table like you didn’t break into my apartment!”

“I live here too.” Hyunje folds his hands together and looks down at the boy. “Are you living here on your own?”

“No,” the boy says venomously, practically radiating hostility. “I live here with my parents.”

“And who are your parents?”

The boy glares at him, obviously reluctant to reveal any more information, but Hyunje just tilts his head and waits patiently. “…Han Eunmi,” he finally grits out. Hyunje crosses his arms. “And Sung Hyunwoo,” he finishes in a mumble.

Ah.

He’s not surprised. Sung Hyunwoo has never been a shining paragon of smart choices. “Sung Hyunwoo is my father as well,” he offers after a moment.

The boy’s eyes grow wide. “We’re brothers?” His eyes very clearly dart to Hyunje’s hair. “Are you sure?”

“Half,” Hyunje corrects. “My mother is Amélie Beaufort.” Not that it matters—he hasn’t seen his mother since he was born. He watches the boy mouth the French name with a look of perplexity. “What’s your name?”

Instantly, the look of suspicion is back. “You tell me yours first.”

He wonders if the boy is this wary of everyone, or if this is special treatment. “Sung Hyunje.”

“You have a Korean name,” the boy notes.

Hyunje raises an eyebrow. “I’m speaking Korean, aren’t I?” The boy rolls his eyes as if to say, Obviously. “I was raised in Korea. My father named me. Stop avoiding my question: what’s your name?”

“I’m not avoiding your question,” the boy mutters, but Hyunje elects to ignore it. The boy’s face goes through a series of increasingly rebellious expressions, but after another beat, he admits, “Han Yoohyun.”

Interesting. Hyunje’s willing to place all his money on Sung Hyunwoo having no idea that Han Yoohyun existed for the first half of the boy’s life. “How old are you?”

“How old are you?” Yoohyun echoes again.

His urge to strangle the child grows ever stronger. “Under ten, I’m assuming?”

The face that Yoohyun pulls is just as telling as his muttered, “How did you know that?”

“Seven?”

“Ew, no. I’m eight. And a half,” Yoohyun stresses. Hyunje just barely refrains from following Yoohyun’s example and rolling his eyes.

“And how long have you been living here?”

“Hey, it’s your turn—” Whatever protest Yoohyun was about to make is cut off by a quiet knock on the door. Both of them freeze at the sound, which makes the sound of the lock clicking open and subsequent creak of the door echo loudly in the silence.

“Hello, Yoohyun-ah? Are you home?”

“Hyung!” Just like that, Yoohyun is out of his chair and sprinting across the room, tackling whoever is in the doorway with his full force.

“Oof,” the person complains, but it’s done with a certain soft fondness that speaks of obvious closeness. “Hi there.”

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” Yoohyun complains, and the way he looks up at the teenager as he closes the door behind himself makes his previous reluctance with Hyunje look like night and day.

“It’s been, like, two days,” the teenager laughs. “You know I can’t come over every day—oh.” A startled gaze meets his own. “Um. Hi.”

“Hello,” Hyunje greets in return, eyeing the newcomer curiously. He’s clearly much older than Yoohyun, so probably not a classmate or even in the same school—perhaps a neighbor? A babysitter?

“…are you… a relative?” the teenager asks tentatively when Hyunje fails to add anything else. “Teacher?”

“He’s my brother,” Yoohyun answers in his stead, nose wrinkling with distaste. “I met him today.”

Surprisingly, the teenager’s expression hardens at that. “Oh? Could I see your ID? Or passport?”

Hyunje suppresses his urge to laugh, but can’t help the smile that trickles onto his face. Protective, he diagnoses, and certainly smarter than the eight year old in the room with them. “Certainly.”

He pulls out his wallet and hands over his ID, taking the opportunity to observe the teenager in closer detail when he steps closer to take the card. He looks younger than Hyunje originally thought, perhaps not even in high school yet, but unfortunately there’s no school crest on his uniform for Hyunje to confirm his guess. “I’m Sung Hyunje. Sung Hyunwoo is my father as well,” he offers while the teenager is scrutinizing the details on his ID and turning it in the light. He’s had to say that particular fact more times in the past ten minutes than he has in the previous ten years.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sung Hyunje-ssi,” the teenager says after another moment, passing the card back to him. “I’m one of Yoohyun’s neighbors. I stop by to check in every now and then to make sure that he’s okay since he’s home alone so often. Sorry for the suspicion.”

“Understandable,” Hyunje says agreeably. “And what’s your name?”

“Han Yoojin.” At Hyunje’s raised eyebrows and pointed look at Yoohyun, he hurries to add, “Uh, no relation. Just a coincidence.”

“I see.”

“Do you know where his—your—parents are?” Yoojin asks abruptly. “I haven’t seen them in ages and I’m worried about Yoohyun.”

“Hyung,” Yoohyun whines. His hands haven’t loosened their grip on Yoojin’s vest this entire time, Hyunje notes. “I told you before: I have money, I can order food on my phone plus there’s a store right down the street, and I know how to get to school.”

Yoojin visibly softens when he turns to look down at Yoohyun. “I know, I know, but you shouldn’t have to stay at home by yourself all the time. It’s not safe.”

“But I have you!” Yoohyun chirps brightly. If Yoojin had softened before, he’s practically melting now. Hyunje wonders if Yoojin’s parents know that he’s so close with their neighbor’s child.

“But I’m not around all the time, Yoohyun-ah.” The admission looks like it physically pains Yoojin to say. Hyunje wants to take their relationship and poke at it. It’s fascinating. “Where have you been, Sung Hyunje-ssi?” he asks, turning his attention back to Hyunje.

“I went to school overseas,” he answers. “I don’t keep in contact with my family.”

Yoojin eyes him with a sizable amount of skepticism. “And are you back in Korea for good?”

Truthfully, Hyunje wasn’t planning on it. He came back to pack up whatever remaining belongings he might’ve still had lying around the apartment and leave Korea entirely after this, but his impulse control has never been terrific and his instincts are telling him to stay right here. “Yes,” he offers cheerfully. “I’ll have to leave momentarily to pack up the rest of my things, but I plan on staying here for the foreseeable future.”

“What?” Yoohyun interjects, scowling up a storm again. “No.”

Hyunje raises an eyebrow at him. “No?”

“No! I don’t know you and I don’t want you to live with me. Go away.”

“Yoohyun-ah…” Yoojin gives him an unreadable look before turning to Yoohyun. “Sung Hyunje-ssi is your brother. Wouldn’t living with him be better than staying here alone?”

“Why can’t you live with me?” Hyunje has never really been susceptible to puppy eyes, but he can tell they’re absolutely devastating on Yoojin. “I like you more.”

“Yoojin-ssi can visit whenever he wants,” Hyunje points out. “In fact, if he wants to stay over some days, he’s welcome to.” With that, he knows that he’s won Yoohyun over. Can be bribed with Yoojin, he notes with satisfaction, and smiles in response to the look Yoojin gives him.

“Really?” Yoohyun gasps. He slaps his hands on the dining table demandingly and leans in close. “You promise?”

For this, Hyunje has no reason to lie. “Of course.”

Yoohyun rocks back on his heels and scrunches his features up in an exaggerated thinking face. Yoojin keeps his attention on Yoohyun, but periodically, Hyunje catches his gaze darting in his direction. He wonders what’s running through the teenager’s mind right now. “Fine,” Yoohyun declares decisively after a few seconds. “You can stay.”

“Thank you,” Hyunje replies magnanimously. Regardless of the opinion of an eight year old, he would’ve stayed, but this makes things easier.

“I’ll… let you two get acquainted then,” Yoojin offers hesitantly, taking a step back towards the door.

Yoohyun immediately pounces in outrage. “What? No, hyung! You’re finally here—let’s watch a movie! Or play a game!”

Yoojin bends down and ruffles the boy’s hair with a reassuring smile. “I’ll come back tomorrow,” he soothes while Yoohyun attempts to comb it back into some semblance of order. “You spend time with Sung Hyunje-ssi today, okay?”

Yoohyun pouts. “Fine.” He sticks out a hand, pinky extended, for Yoojin to shake. “Promise?”

“Promise.” Yoojin links his pinky with Yoohyun and presses their thumbs together. “See you tomorrow, Yoohyun-ah.”

At this, Hyunje stands up. “Let me walk you to the door.”

“The door’s right there—”

“I don’t mind,” Hyunje says with a smile and follows an uneasy Yoojin to the doorway. “It was nice to meet you, Yoojin-ssi. Thank you for looking after Yoohyun in his parents’ absence.”

“Oh, it was no problem, really,” Yoojin hurriedly reassures. “He’s a good kid.”

Hyunje is fairly certain that that is emphatically not true, if Yoohyun’s attitude around Hyunje is anything to go by, but now isn’t the time to be removing Yoojin’s rose-colored glasses. “Would you like compensation for your time? I’m not sure if my father would have offered anything, but I’d be more than happy to.”

Yoojin’s shaking his head before Hyunje even finishes speaking. “No, no, that’s really not necessary.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then I insist you join us for dinner at least once a week.” Yoojin opens his mouth, no doubt to protest again, so Hyunje cuts him off with, “I’m sure Yoohyun would love your company.”

If Yoohyun’s weakness is clearly Yoojin, Yoojin’s is Yoohyun in equal measure. “I’ll have to check with my mom,” Yoojin hedges, eyes flicking behind Hyunje to where Yoohyun is no doubt lurking, but Hyunje already knows his acquiescence is all but guaranteed.

“Of course,” Hyunje allows graciously. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Yoojin-ssi.”

“Right. Sure. Have a good night, Sung Hyunje-ssi.”

Hyunje waves, lingering in the hallway long enough to note which door Yoojin disappears into, before retreating back into the apartment. He’s immediately confronted by an irate eight year old who looks at him with a level of distaste that’s comical for such a small child. “Yoojin-hyung was my friend first—you can’t have him.”

Hyunje hums, ignoring the invitation for a confrontation that Yoohyun clearly wants, and instead sweeps past him to examine the state of the rest of the apartment. “Why not?”

“Yoojin-hyung is mine.”

The first bedroom he reaches is clearly Yoohyun’s, and he only gives the messy contents a cursory glance before moving on. “What if Yoojin-ssi wants to be friends with me? Would you stop him from doing what he wants?”

In between checking the bathroom (only a single toothbrush and towel) and the hallway closet (everything still in the same place as Hyunje remembers from five years ago), he glances at Yoohyun and catches an expression of pure confusion. “Why would he want to be friends with you, though?”

Hyunje moves on to the next bedroom, striding down the hallway with brisk strides that force Yoohyun to jog to keep up with him. “He might,” he says lightly. He doesn’t recognize the bed or its covers when he steps into the room, and the dresser and desk are covered in a thick layer of dust.

“He wouldn’t.” The statement comes with such confidence that Hyunje pauses in his journey to the next room and looks down at Yoohyun. The boy stares up at him defiantly, a deep furrow between his brows.

“Yoojin-ssi is allowed to have other friends besides you,” Hyunje probes curiously.

Yoohyun immediately scowls. “No. He’s my friend.”

“Hm.” Hyunje considers the child in front of him, along with his overwhelming urge to poke the bear. “I think I’ll make him my friend too.”

“No!”

“Yes,” Hyunje replies serenely, continuing through the rest of the apartment now that he’s made his decision. The last bedroom, when he checks, is a study as equally covered in dust as the previous bedroom. He wouldn’t claim to be an expert, but it’s clear that Sung Hyunwoo and Han Eunmi have not lived here in a long time.

Curious, he thinks, that Yoojin’s parents have not bothered to report Yoohyun’s situation to any authorities despite their son’s presumably frequent visits.

“I’ll be staying for a while, Yoohyun-ah,” he says, crouching down to be eye level with the fuming boy, amused by his obvious anger. This isn’t what he expected when he came back to Korea to pay his father one final visit before neatly cutting him out of his life forever, but it’s not an entirely unwelcome surprise. He’s always been fond of mysteries. “Let’s get along, hm?”

In response, Yoohyun marches back to his room and slams the door.