s h a d o w,

❝You have a cold, cold smile. You were burned, you were about to burn, you’re still on fire.❞

[luhnz-blog]

—————————-& the amount of ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ                                  I have on my h a n d s is enough to make                 you think TWICE about ever                                                                     loving                                                                                         me.

[xingdeers]

niplu ;;

[fuckthepolicethuglifebaby]

You smoke like you want to forget something.

Maybe I do.

[hdxhyomin-deactivated20150128]

sugar and opium // luhan & aeris

» hdxhan «

     It’s no use wondering why a horde of men would up and tug her limbs without permission the moment she got off the platform after every performance. the world has indeed upped its civilization but misogyny and patriarchy still existed. It was too late for Hyomin to back out of her job. Her employer considered her as a prized dancer ever since her first day when she was still a whee junior in college— 21 and fresh faced. She owed it to the club that it was because of her salary there that she managed to graduate; and even though she was now capable of living off of her main day job, she couldn’t get out of it since loyal patrons and customers of M2 would go there just to see her dance.

      She took off of the place before she could explode and cause a bitch fight which would probably taint her reputation, especially if word gets out and her morning circle recognizes her and finds out about her night work. Flinging a studded leather jacket to cover her shoulders, the female spotted a familiar face outside in the same spot where he takes his dose of—whatever he’s taking. A curt chuckle slips her lips as she leaned back a few inches from him, fishing out her stash from her ripped skinny jeans. “Fuck.” She cursed under her breath when her fingers found no sign of her lighter on her. “I’m so not going back there.” She turned to the male and flashed him a simple, civil smile, raising one stick in acknowledgment. “Hey, uhh..you got a light on?”

[luhnz-blog]

His mind is hazed with thoughts he wishes to push away, the world is spinning around him and he swears the people swinging on the dance floor are way too close, their sweaty bodies rubbing against his as he tries to make his way out of there. He's in need of fresh air, or actually he just desperately needs a smoke, after spending hours sitting in front of the bar and pouring himself a drink after another (he lost count of how many he'd drunk and how many times he was asked about his age), trying to drown the demons as he drowns himself in the sweet alcohol.

Once Luhan finds his way out he immediately starts searching his pockets for the already wrapped joint and a lighter, sighing in relief when he finds what he's looking for in a matter of seconds. The feeling of the smoke filling his lungs feels so familiar and satisfying, and oh how he likes it. His eyes flutter shut as he exhales, enjoying the feeling of numbness that's slowly taking over his body. Numb, numb, numb, this is exactly what he needs.

The familiar voice coming beside him tears him out of this thoughts, his eyes opening while slowly turning to look at her with a faint smile spreading across his lips. His fingers are still gripping on his lighter, occasionally causing his fingertips to burn slightly as he lights it briefly and absentmindedly (but every time the pain is nearly nonexistent and short-lived). Without a word, Han raises his arm and with a one swift move of a finger ignites the lighter, offering it towards her, the joint he's currently smoking tucked safely between his lips. “You know,” he mumbles, taking the cigarette in his unoccupied hand to speak properly, “the bartenders in here are assholes.” Luhan's lips curl upwards, a quiet chuckle slipping past them. 

[dawnlus]

Meilishuo CF Making - Luhan

[prodiitus]

   { ｍｏｔｈｅｒ } »        are  you  w a т c н ι n g   me ?

                                            { ｆａｔｈｅｒ } »         are  you  p r o υ d  of  me ?

[luhnz-blog]

beautifully tragic.

This is how it goes: he says he's completely fine, completely sane and they almost believe him. That is until something snaps inside of him, sending him right back at the center of the cycle of self-destruction. (Luhan can't lie, he knows he's in too deep. )

“Hey, hey, hey!” he exclaims, his hands grasping on the doorframe, fingernails trying to dig themselves into the thick material of the wooden door. It's no use, however, he doesn't have the strength to keep holding on; his grip loosens, loosens, loosens— Another push sends Luhan straight ahead, his feet failing underneath him and he comes in contact with the rough ground. He can hear the old man shouting at him in Mandarin (do us both a favor and don't come back! please, Han), the sound of door slamming shut following right after. There's some money thrown beside him along with a sticky note ‘take your medication!’ written on it in neat handwriting. How considerate.

The bills find their place inside the pockets of Luhan's knee lengthed shorts, leaving the note lying untouchable on the asphalt. He can feel them watching him behind the closed windows, watching and waiting for him to go home (but this is home, was home.) “Fuck you!” he screams all of sudden, a faint smile ghosting his lips, tears glimmering in his eyes, “fuck you!” And he falls quiet again, his feet stuck in their place, unable to move anywhere; he's angry, angry with baba, with himself, with mama. “You don't need them, Hannie,” voice no more than a whisper, a weak one, Luhan turns around after a while only to bump into someone, a stranger he wasn't aware of being there (had he seen the whole scene?). He can't bring himself to utter even an apology.

This is how it is: he lets himself to break into tiny shards only to try and glue himself slowly back together. (But even the strongest glue wears off and Luhan is broken beyond repair.)

[luhnz-blog]

"This is not the time nor place."

“Want one?” he inquires, offering her the beautifully wrapped white joint he’s holding in between his two fingers. Her answer doesn’t surprise him — the words come out firmly, judging even, which makes Luhan only chuckle; there would be more left for him then. The place may not be ideal for smoking weed, but he’s currently craving for something that helps him feel anything. He places the joint behind his ear, sparing one last glance towards the front of the classroom before standing up, heading towards the exit. After two, three steps, he pokes his head over the girl’s shoulder, whispering the words softly in her ear. “There’s always a good time to get high.”

[luhnz-blog]

"Give me a chance."

Minhyuk’s voice echoes through his head, strong and demanding and— is that hint of concern he hears in his voice? Luhan’s on a verge of tears he doesn’t want to shed, the reason unknown to himself as well. He stares at the tiny cracks on the floor, counts the seconds he’s wasting only to breathe (inhale, exhale, swallow your tears), and when a single teardrop breaks free, Han can only watch as it reaches the cold parquet. And then there’s a sound of laughter filling the air; it’s him, laughing out loud dry and hollow, no traces of tears left in his dull eyes. “I don’t give chances,” he utters once he gains his voice, lifeless brown orbs meeting the other’s for a brief few seconds, and then he’s walking out of the room leaving Minhyuk behind along with the miniscule fragments of his shattered heart. (Because he’s toxic, and it’s always better to suffer alone.)

[luhnz-blog]

"I’m not who you think I am."

“Is that so?” the question slips past his chapped lips before they get once again in contact with the cancer stick, his only friend, closing his eyes as he inhales the familiar smoke that’s ever so slowly killing him; they are just as lethal as he is. The scent of cigarettes reminds him of the past years, of memories he can’t erase (memories that feed the darkness that’s living within him). Luhan’s eyes flutter open after a while, slowly, the same sight of Hayden greeting him. Heaving a sigh, his lips curve into a fake smile with ease. He might have said the wrong thing earlier (he isn’t really sure (should I apologize?), but neither does he care) by assuming things of him that obviously weren’t true. “Please, go ahead and enlighten me by telling me who you are then.”

[lovaely]

[luhnz-blog]

daylight.

His small hands are playing with the sleeves of his oversized hoodie, lips tugged slightly upwards as he silently hums a lullaby his mother used to sing to him when he was a child; when he was still pure, not yet consumed by the darkness that he simply can not get rid of. But he has accepted it though, maybe he's just too much of his mother's son — a little too crazy, a little too fragile. 

The soft humming comes to an end when the subway finally reaches the station, the chilly stream of air sending shivers down Luhan's spine. (He's a little cold, but he didn't bother to wear a jacket; instead he's clad in nothing but worn out ripped jeans, a t-shirt and his favorite hoodie.) He is easily pushed aside by the busy people rushing into the subway, how rude, but the pink haired boy still manages to slip inside before the doors shut after him.

Light footsteps carry him forward, passing people after people, children and teens and adults, until his eyes spot an unoccupied seat next to a young man who's looking outside the window seemingly in his thoughts. Han wastes no time, easily making his way to the free seat thanks to his small frame. Taking a better look at the other through his reflection on the window as he sits down beside the stranger, Luhan slowly leans closer, bringing his head near the other's in a slightly creepy manner.  

“What are you looking at?” his voice comes out only a tad louder than a whisper, the corners of his mouth rising into a warm, but somewhat sad smile — just like the ones he used to receive from mama when she was still heaving through her corrupted lungs. 

[hdxmemes]

send me one for my muse's reaction

"Are we really doing this?"  "Are you doing this to upset me?"  "Friends don’t look at each other like that."  "Give me a chance."  "I am not doing that." 

Read More

[kaiiyeopta]

[samsaranmusing-deactivated20140]

You have trouble feeling alive, so you stab your own heart just to feel something. It was the emptiness that was killing you. You created the sadness and the fear to fill it.

Yasmin Mogahed (via sleepings)