[mellfluos-deactivated20141105]

She is gifted in the ways of Jimin— she can read him like a book. A fact she prides herself on; especially when he gives away that she’s hit the nail on the head. His voice is soft as he speaks to her and she’s leaning closer, not because she can’t hear him— she wants to be closer to him. There’s always that need to be as close to him as she can be, she’s learned long ago to not be ashamed of it anymore.

He’s scared and it’s so damn endearing that she nearly coos in response. Tongue moistening her lips, she sets her hand on his cheek and turns him to face her. “Don’t be scared, I’m here.” She wasn’t going to say it but, after catching hold of his gaze, the words came out of their own volition. Fingers brushing along his jaw, she thinks of ways to comfort him. There are several that come to mind, each one making her blush in that bashful way of hers. Instead, she slides her thumb along his bottom lip and wills her gaze to stay locked on his own. Her eyes had a way of wandering and getting her in all sorts of trouble—— only when it came to him, though.

"It’s a new beginning." Philosophical mumbo jumbo. These are the kinds of things her mother would say (and had said when she’d been informed Jimin was having some sort of operation).

There is fluttering in her stomach at the brush of his lips to her cheek and she closes her eyes. Her mind is telling her: Go for it. Do it now. “Jimin.” She doesn’t even realize that she’s said his name because her voice doesn’t sound like her voice anymore. But he’s speaking again and she clamps her mouth shut, having lost her nerve just as quickly.

"I get to play nurse." She grins. "Aren’t you excited?"

[metavasi]

Instinctively, he’s drawing her in closer—not physically, but rather, just inhaling her scent and taking her all in. There’s something about Seulgi that calms his fussing; there’s always been something inside of her that relaxes him. More than that: Jimin just feels at ease, feels himself, around her and that’s more than anybody else has ever managed to do for him. Without thought, he’s nuzzling her palm, a throaty hum bubbling at the comforting warmth of her fingers.

Jimin’s eyes flutter open—he wasn’t even aware that he had shut them. Flitters his fingers to rest over hers, pressing them just a little harder than feather-light on his jawline. He’s thumbing at the back of her hand—she’s so soft—and then he’s puckering his lips against her thumb. His fingers aren’t as long, as manly, as he’d prefer, but they still manage to fit around her dainty wrist, and she’s so delicate underneath them.

He smiles, bottom lip thinning underneath her thumb. “You sound like your mother.” Of course, Jimin has only been around her mother a few times (he can count on two hands), but he’s going off of what Seulgi says about the woman. “But it is like a new beginning, isn’t it?” It certainly feels so—Jimin feels like he’s about to be reborn.

“Hm?” His eyes are shut again. He noses her cheek and—- stills quite suddenly, eyes being wrenched open. “You—“ His voice is squeaky, and high—he clears his throat. Out of nowhere, her cherry blossom tinged scent is driving him more crazy (in the best way possible, of course) than usual and he presses his knees hard together. And the grin on her face tells him that she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Oh, god. You’re so not fair.”

[mellfluos-deactivated20141105]

Her fingers were sweaty and it was embarrassing as she held his hand between both of hers. Her discomfort; however, wasn’t at the fore front of her mind. They’d come a long way together and being privy to his deepest secret made her heart swell. What had she done to deserve such trust? The thought brought a smile to her lips, her shoulder bumping against his to gain his attention.

It was a big day. He needed to know that he had her support, that she was going to be there for him every step of the way. Leaning closer, she placed the softest of kisses against his cheek. “Are you nervous?” Her voice was gentle and she wasn’t certain he could even hear her. Throughout the time they’d been waiting, he’d seemed distracted— understandably so, of course. She’d taken to rubbing the back of his hand in soft circles, hoping that it would soothe him. They weren’t going to let her into the room with him so she knew she had to give as many encouraging words as she could now.

When he’d first told her, she had been speechless. The little things he’d done up to that point (namely, his hesitation) seemed to make sense. Once she’d gotten over her surprise, she found that she didn’t care. Thinking back on it now made her smile— the circumstances had been awkward enough without the bombshell being dropped. Now, they looked back on the moment had a few laughs from it.

Lifting his hand, she kissed the back of it while squeezing his fingers in her grasp. “I’ll be here waiting for you when it’s done.”

[metavasi]

He’s breathing, the air is hollow in his chest, and he allows his fingers to grasp on tighter to her's—his lifeline. His parents were there too, but soon got hungry; and they trust Seulgi enough to leave him in her hands. Almost quite literally. The hands that fill him with a sort of comfortable warmth—had he not been skin-to-skin with her, he’d be going insane with the nerves.

So it’s obvious—— “Ye—-ah.” He heard her loud and clear. They’re both soft-spoken, and unconsciously trained to pick up the other’s voice. A slight wisp that curls around his ear. “A little. Mostly, I’m excited.” A sort of nervous-excitement. He’s wanted this for so long. Jimin has wanted this since he’s started puberty. More than want—he needs this. A heavy sigh is let out, and he’s mumbling, “I’ve never had any type of surgery before, though.” That makes it understandable for him to be scared, right?

Two, three hours at most. It’s just a simple keyhole. Ironically, he’s thankful that his mom is so small chested.

And now he’s smiling—just gently, returning a kiss to her cheek. What has he ever done to deserve such a wonderful person in his life? A kind, accepting woman who lov—likes(?) him as he is. “It shouldn’t be too long, I think.” It’s not a complicated process. Out of nowhere, he groans. “I’m going to be so pathetic, for like a month.” He won’t even be allowed to lift his arms above his head; how annoying is that?

A smile. “Well, guess I won’t be able to attend dance practice, huh?”

[mellfluos-deactivated20141105]

{`fingers cupping his cheek, she strokes her thumb over the cheekbone. he’s soft in her hands and she can’t imagine how someone who looks so strong could feel this way. she leans into him and closes her eyes once again, cheek on his shoulder now. there’s a fear nagging in the back of their head— too careless, they’re being too careless. however, she can’t bring herself to care about anything other than how it feels to be like this. she’s a complete highschool teeny-bopper cliche with jimin and she founds that she doesn’t really mind it much. his lips are pressing to her cheek, sliding on the skin because of their slickness, and her heart skips a beat.} Don’t tease me. {`it’s a mumble that she doesn’t really mean— given away by the smile on her lips.} I missed you. {`she wants to tack on: i thought about texting you this morning. but wouldn’t that seem too clingy? she worries about that and it makes her insecure.} …What have you been doing today?

[metavasi]

[‘ he leans into her hand, complacent as a kitten, and he’s practically purring—a hum is deep in his throat, vibrating. a kind-of-deep sound that fills up any holes in the silence. they could get caught, anyone could see them right now, and that pours jimin to the brim with paranoia; as well as a strange sense of apathy. as if, he wants them to get caught. he can’t say he’d mind it—having everyone who is anyone aware of the fact that she’s his girlfriend. he’s surprised; jimin never thought himself the type of person to be possessive. then again, he’s never been in a relationship before this one either. he noses the high plane of her cheek with the tip, nuzzling her skin, and just breathing her all in ] But—- teasing you is my favorite pastime. [‘ gently, he squeezes her in his arms ] Besides this—whatever it is we’re doing right now. Cuddling. [‘ jimin enjoys the comfortable warmth, and the fluttering tendrils of boyish innocence in his stomach. a lock of her hair is curled around his index finger ] I missed you too. [‘ he’s been thinking about her all day, but he’ll keep that to himself ] Just lazing about instead of practicing. ‘N you? 

[mellfluos-deactivated20141105]

{`she’s fighting a smile the instant he touches her. back arching slightly when his hold pulls her body closer to his own, her eyes fluttering shut. he smells good; it’s a heady feeling and she can’t remember if she’s the one that bought the scent for him or not. allowing herself to open her eyes, she smiles at his shyness — creeping in his cheeks, clouding his eyes. it’s cute. at the compliment, she can’t find her words and; instead, leans in closer to him. she wants to kiss him but she loses her nerve last minute and presses her cheek against his own. all the while, she’s cursing her own cowardice.} Thank you. You too. I—— mean, you look handsome. {`foot in mouth syndrome strikes again and she laughs in hopes of saving face.}

[metavasi]

[‘ he mirrors her: eyes shut, expression calm as the open sea, and just breathing, taking in her sweet scent that is accented with some sort of lovely floral (he thinks) type perfume. she smells like an open field and wildflowers. he thinks it’s fitting. the smile on his face could be described as dopey now—it doesn’t fit his usual apathy with a tinge of bashful and caring—and he’s so stupidly infatuated. breath in, take her all in, and breath out, letting the exhale land on her ear. the warm carbon dioxide almost curls like a wisp of smoke around the shell of her ear. jimin laughs—it comes out airy, basically a ghost of a chuckle, and it’s equal parts nervous and joyful ] You’re prettier. [‘ he’s teasing, enjoying the way she stammers on her words ] Thank you. [‘ his lips are practically smothered in chap-stick and he hopes that doesn’t bother her, as he lets them press against her cheek ]

[metavasi]

[' one arm snakes itself around her tiny waist, and his other, her shoulders; palm resting between the blades before letting the fingers inch their way up to play with a lock of her hair. soft, as usual, and jimin lets out a sigh of content. he pulls his head back, just a little, and just briefly, to admire his handiwork ] It looks pretty. You look pretty. [' the smile on his lips is a hint shy ]

[yetau-blog]

trainee 101 // pjm&yyj

[yetau-blog]

yejun had really, really hoped that jimin wasn’t going to bother denying it. of course he would, though; who admits to those things freely? a sigh escapes him, removing his arm from around the boy’s shoulders to instead cross both over his chest. he has known people in both school and static who had been harassed for one reason or another and, while it hadn’t ever been too severe, it was definitely off putting and quite a hit to the victim’s self esteem. yejun had hated watching it happen to his friends and he’d be damned if he lets it happen to jimin, too.

jimin looks almost as surprised as yejun had been when he had seen what was going on. he knows the younger as a sweet, talented boy — there’s no reason, in his mind, for him to be bullied in any way other than stupid jealous. it has his blood boiling in his veins, really, the idea of people picking on someone so innocent because they just aren’t as good. 

he heaves a deep sigh, frustrated fingers dragging through strands of his own dark hair. "it is important,” he urges — he’s heard it all before, from different people in different situations. even if it isn’t much for them, thinking of how much better they would feel once it was gone… "you don’t deserve it. they shouldn’t— shouldn’t be targeting you, out of all the bad people here…”

he forces his own feelings down with a breathy inhale. this isn’t about him, his feelings and his anger; it’s about jimin and getting the younger safe and away from the bullies. lips purse as he thinks that he might have gone about this the wrong way. "they’re taking your stuff, i’ve seen. that’s a crime, isn’t it? we can’t just let criminals get away," he says instead, and it sounds pretty reasonable in his own mind.

[metavasi]

jimin doesn’t know why he suddenly feels sheepish—well, scratch that, he does. it’s because that position yejun is pulling (arms crossed, brows just subtly raised, mouth a little bit puckered) is almost an exact replication of the one his dad does should he be in disbelief. (‘what time did you go to bed last night?’ ‘midnight. why?’ cue the position—and yes, it requires emphasis. ‘because i heard you playing your guitar at four a.m.’) 

maybe that’s why jimin finds his gazed taped to his shoes. they’re ratty—old vans, and the fabric over his big toe is frayed. jimin walks with his ankles curved in as well, so they’re starting to tear apart on the inside. shoes never last him long—whether it be because of too many late-night tree-climbing adventures or because they’re stolen. he needs new shoes. jimin will probably bother his father about that tonight.

❝ yejun—- it’s fine, really. ❞ annoying, of course, but jimin has had worse. he says as much, ❝ i’ve dealt with worse, so it doesn’t bother me, really. ❞ okay, maybe not really. it does bother him, if just a little bit; but it only usually drags out a sigh, rather than making him choke on sobs in the solace of his bedroom. so he can muck through. he can man up and just put up with it by gritting his teeth and biting his tongue.

is it wrong for jimin to be smiling? grinning, quite genuinely, because the boy can’t help but to feel flattered that someone cares.

jimin shrugs, smiling lazily. ❝ there’s no proof. ❞ crooks one arm, holding onto his opposite elbow and thumbing over the bone. it’s a nervous habit of his, and he admits in a much more quiet tone (which is almost silent, because he’s a naturally soft-spoken person anyways), ❝ i’d rather just not do anything. it doesn’t end well. ❞ he speaks from experience. a victim who fights proves to be more fun. a victim who doesn’t react at all is just boring. 

[jaesvk-deactivated20190309]

( infatuation / metavasi. )

[jaesvk-deactivated20190309]

  He tended to overthink. It wasn’t the best characteristic of his, not when it often took him a long while to make decisions. But there seemed to be too much for him not to contemplate. He wouldn’t necessarily categorize himself as deep, just a bit more thoughtful than others’ perception of him would be. When it came to matters like this, he willed himself to not let his thoughts wander too far. It was shallow topic after all, just a harmless crush on his friend, and he would’ve thought shallow topics would provide nothing for him to ponder over.  

  When several seconds had passed by, Jake was left to wonder if his text was even sent. He wouldn’t be ignored, would he? No, Jimin certainly wasn’t that kind of person. If he had beef with him, he would’ve been informed ages ago. He thought back to the last time they talked. Had he done something wrong? Perhaps, a joke that felt out of bounds? Maybe he shouldn’t have hugged him. Would friends eve—- 

  A sharp, yet comforting ping brought him out of his senses and jarred him back into consciousness. He hadn’t even realised he had been still holding onto his phone, why would he be doing that?

  As his eyes glanced over the reply, a majority of him became relieved—somewhat. Eagerly, he typed his response back, thumbs tapping along the screen as his legs splayed out in front of him on the bed. This time, he had made sure to not let his mind waver too far. 

[ SMS : Reply ] Great! Where do you want to meet up then?

  He ran his tongue over his lips. Maybe he had responded too quickly. 

  Crawling out of his space, he shook his head a bit, the spot on the back of his head still throbbing, but he pushed the thought away. Reaching over to grab the remote from atop the wooden drawer, he shut the overhead ventilation with a small feeling of reluctance. He shouldn’t spend as much time indoors during the summer, he was starting to grow spoiled.

[metavasi]

In a flurry and mess of wiry limbs, Jimin finally gets his shirt off—after his ankle gets caught in a sheet strewn across his floor. His mother has been telling him to clean up his room for a while now, but Jimin doesn’t think it’s dirty. A little disorganized, with clothes wrinkled on his floor here and there (and maybe, that’s a used plate on his desk) but not dirty. His shirt is thrown onto his floor, happy to join the army of disheveled fabric.

Now onto the choice of what to put on; and Jimin would love to wear a tank, but the last thing he’d want is for his binder to be seen. So, despite the fact that his sticky skin is screaming in protest, he goes with a graphic tee that has English scrawled across the white in big, blocky font. Jimin hasn’t a clue of what the letters mean. His brother got him this shirt. 

His shorts are slipped on with a few awkward jumps and flailing before he fans out a palm against his wall, holding him steady. Jimin throws on a hat too—because his bangs are stuck to his forehead with sweat, strands ganging together to form clumps. Hats are really useful, Jimin thinks, in making it appear as if he isn’t a total slob of a teenage boy.

And it’s after this grueling, six-minute process that Jimin text Jake back.

            ↪ Jake: You know that pub near STC?

He doesn’t bother waiting in his house for a response—just slides his phone snugly into one of his front pockets, grabbing his wallet, giving his mom a kiss on her cheek and telling her goodbye. He makes sure to slink out of the house quickly just in case she asks him to do the dishes before he goes.

Eyes and a nose wrinkle up, meeting the blaring sunlight that threatens his sanity—and he can feel the sweltering heat trapped in the concrete through his flip-flops. His only saving grace is a slight breeze that play with a cowlick of hair peeking out though his snap-back. He walks quickly, playing a game of avoid the lava by hiding in the shadows.  

[jaesvk-deactivated20190309]

( infatuation / metavasi. )

  He has his back pressed up against the wall perpendicular to his bed, the coolness seeping past his fabric and tingling against his bare skin. Even though the last time he had seen Jimin had been just days ago, he couldn’t bear staying away for so long and even though he had tried whatever to distract himself, scrubbing the image of their face from his mind was difficult. 

  “Is this what love is like?” He muttered to himself quietly before he heaved a loud exhale, tufts of raven black hair falling over his eyes. Maybe he should get that cut. 

  Reaching over, he picked up his phone, thumb brushing over the touch screen hesitantly just before he unlocked his phone. Would it be too early before asking Jimin to hang out with him again? Surely, the boy wouldn’t think of him as clingy. His mind became a jumbled mess as several thoughts came up in his mind and the more he questioned them, the more questions there were. 

  He then started out a text to latter with a simple ‘hello’, but yet, it felt dissatisfying. The message had simply sounded too bare and shallow, maybe he should try something longer. 

[ SMS ] Hey, Jimin... want to hang out? I mean, only if you want to. Not that I want to, but I mean, I'm bored. 

  Once again he had found himself backspacing an endless amount of times. How stupid it had sounded to him even seconds later, and maybe a tad bit obsessed too. 

  “Fuck, what am I going to d—” A loud groan in annoyance had left his lips as he tilted his head back only to accidentally slam it against the wall with a bold thud before he can even finish, interrupting himself mid-sentence with another groan, only this time in pain. ”Ouch, what the fuck..” A grunt slipped out of his lips. No one told him liking someone would be this painful. No one told him he would ever so be wildly attracted to someone like this, either. 

  It had taken him several minutes after that to even conclude with a perfect reply, as he would say, because it had seemed perfect in that way that it was nothing but a half-assed text he had spent only seconds on, and not the actual fifteen minutes he spent musing and mulling over. 

[ SMS → Jimin ] Let's hang,  I'm bored. 

[metavasi]

It’s hot. It’s scorching, smoldering, and that is the predominating thought filling up his brain at the moment—because he’s not at the company practicing, for once, and the last way he wanted to spend his day off was boiling. Takes in a lungful of air—it’s warm too—and lets it out as a pitiful sigh, face in a grimace because he can feel his shirt plastered to his skin. Sun-kissed skin that is sticky with sweat.

His air conditioning is broken, and the three fans he has blasted on high in his room aren’t helping either. Maybe he should just take an ice bath. Getting hypothermia sounds much better than wasting away in his own bodily fluids. Wait, gross, never mind—that makes him sound like some sort of in-patient who’s wet the bed. Still, he doesn’t want to continuing resting in a pool of his sweat.

Woe is he! He’s bored too, dreadfully so. Bored enough to morbidly wonder about how it’d feel like to peel his eyelids back, or strip his skin (would he be hot then?), and count the nicks and crack in his ceiling—which there isn’t many. His family, his father, built this house. Well, not by hand, of course. More like he bought the land and paid someone to build his family a house—so they’re the only humans beings who have ever lived in this plot of land. Jimin likes that. This place is completely the Park family’s.

Jimin turns onto his side and his shirt is still sticking to his spine. He wrinkles his nose. Then, his phone vibrates, clinking against the empty glass of water he left it next to on his end table. Probably his mom, because she's insistent on texting him despite the fact that they breath, eat, and live underneath the same roof. Also probable: she’s going to make him do some chores. Dishes, most likely, which is almost as icky as being an in-patient and living in his own filth. 

Oh, on the contrary; it looks like someone decided to save him from this unfortunate fate of rotting into a pile of bones right there in his very bed. It’s Jake. Or, it’s ‘thank god, someone I actually get along with’. 

He doesn’t even think about his reply.

[SMS → Jake] Yeah, lets get ice cream. 

But he probably should not go out in his sweat-soaked white tee and boxers. 

[SMS → Jake] Just let me get dressed first.

Which obviously doesn’t take him long—he’s just going out to get ice cream, after all.

[stcmedia-blog]

—ACTIVITY CHECK

    Hey there guys! Well, as the title states, it’s time for an activity check: so, just reblog this post by July 30th, 12:00 a.m. PST. Anyone (besides people on hiatus) who doesn’t reblog this will be taken off the masterlist and their face will be available to roleplay. 

   Also, we will be going through blogs and checking as well, because remember: photo reblogs don’t count as activity. If we see anyone who has only been reblogging photos (or just, well, not roleplaying or conversing with anyone) for over a week, we will send you a warning. We will also be checking to make sure you’re actively participating with family members.

   That said, have a good day! 

[deactivatedslightly]

ᴅᴏɢs ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋ? ; ᴊɪᴋᴏᴏᴋ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ

[deactivatedslightly]

      He’s so focused, so confident, that the animal will respond. And his face lights up with pure happiness when he hears a voice, only for that bright smile of his to be eclipsed when he looks up, realizes it’s one of those stinkin’ humans. His expression sinks with disappoint, eyes becoming sullen with hearing the insult spewed. He’s terribly embarrassed he’s been caught in his quest, and his face flares with an unappealing shade of red. But it doesn’t stop there, scarlet crawls down the skin of his neck, and his ears are filled with the tint. His eyes water, as this element accompanies humiliation. And he hates the glassy covering, glad they’re not really tears.       His lips part, and he wants to think of something clever to say. But nothing fits, nothing ever fits. His mood was flame, but became a smokey twirl of reminiscence, seeping from his mouth as his confidence acts as the pinched fuse. He simply stares, eyes wide, mouth agape, heart pounding. “Then,” he mouths inaudibly, just trying to find his voice before speaking properly. “The creature is also smarter than you.”       He can’t tell how old the other is, maybe Jungkook should show more respect. Is Jungkook the elder, or is it this person? And so he gets to his feet, patting down unkempt clothing and he notices — hey, I’m taller. Maybe older after all. Somehow, he can’t find the will to look at Sunja’s owner. His eyes are fixated on a rock, a little left to his foot. But it doesn’t mean he’s not listening, he’s always listening. And when the dogs seems to respond in understanding, Jungkook lets out an accusing “Aha!” and points to the dog. “There! It can understand, so it surely can answer! If it wanted to, why doesn’t it want to?”

[metavasi]

      Jimin only feels a little (like, one percent) bad, eyes trained to the onset of color blooming over this kid’s face. (Maybe, just maybe, he should stop referring to this stranger as a kid until he knows for sure that he’s older.) (But he’s probably not going to.)

      This person is taller than him. Damn it. (Spitefully, in his mind, he holds onto the title kid, dubbing the teenager, The Kid. Jimin can hold onto age, if not height.)

      “Oh, that’s fine with me,” he replies easily, insouciantly. Reaffirming the grip on his grocery bag, face pinching just a tinge with the uncomfortable crinkle, he continues on with his tirade, “I mean, a teacher has to be smarter than it’s student, right? Or else there’s no point. But,” the fabric between his fingers is released, index finger straight and pointed at The Kid in an attempt of being stern, “she’s not a creature. Her name is Sunja, and she’s the most awesome dog ever.” Jimin is quite biased, it seems, when it comes to his dog. Still, she’s a rather well behaved canine. His little princess. “So don’t call her creature again, or I’ll push you down a storm drain.” The threat doesn’t sound too intimidating, coming from his soft, unobtrusive voice.

      “’Sides, she can understand you, right? So, that just puts you on her bad side. What if she sneaks off and,” he has to think for a moment, humming, “…And pees on your bed, or something, for being so rude to her? Or chews up all your shoes. I’m sure she’d do worse things if she had thumbs.”

      A bit suddenly, he crouches down, letting his unoccupied hand fan out over the top of Sunja’s head—being rewarded with a doggy-smile and tail sweeping the concrete. “Of course she understands. How is she going to be my teacher if she doesn’t understand?”

[metavasi]

(I'm in love with your profile song ;u; Could you provide the name?)

No problem, darlin'— it's Sexfaldur by Amiina.

[metavasi]

[ i'm trans irl and i have to say your bio fit me perfectly and just ugh you are perfect ok your muse and you ok <333 T__T ]

I kept trying to think of a better way to answer this with more than just a simple, ‘thank you’, but I cannot fathom any other words than: thank you, thank you, thank you!I was actually really worried making this muse, because I was scared that I wouldn’t portray in a realistic manner—and I’d just completely murder what it’s actually like to be transgendered. So, I really appreciated this because now I’m more confident that I am actually going through this with a sense of realism!p.s. I love you too <333

[metavasi]

[ can i award you the prize for one of the best and most engaging back stories i've ever read in all my years of roleplaying? your muse is fucking amazing. )

I legit just started jumping up and down in my room, flailing like a complete dumbass and squealing—thank you so much, you sweetheart! I really appreciate that!

[jellyhongs-deactivated20210506]

[deactivatedslightly]

ᴅᴏɢs ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋ? ; ᴊɪᴋᴏᴏᴋ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ

        Humidity sticks to pasty skin, or the only skin that’s really exposed. It’s hot, and he doesn’t have the best fashion sense, so he departs from his home in a white long-sleeve sweatshirt with a bright green alien personally silkscreened onto the front. Below that, an unflattering pair of brown corduroy floods stretch just above his knobby ankles.          He’s supposed to be convenience-store shopping while his mother is at the — insert Jungkook’s cough of disapproval — gym. He takes the wrinkled fold of paper, slips a finger inside, and opens it to skim the list.                    Milk                    Bananas                    Cotton balls                    Bug repellent         He bends the scrap at the middle again and pushes it inside his sleeve, because when you have no pockets, sleeves are a great substitute. Heck, his cloth cuffs are tight enough; he’s only had the shirt a year, happened to have grown a lot in that time. He’s finally staring up at the store, anxiety clutching at his chest. His torso feels tight, much more feels as though he’s sacrificing his soul to the convenience store rather than the convenience store sacrificing their goods to him, in exchange for a small paper fee.         But he’s not alone, a dog has their eyes glued to him. “Stop, you nuisance,” he hisses through clenched teeth. The ogling doesn’t cease, and the teen is quick to kneel in front of the house pet. He mutters a few slurs, a few videogame-oriented swears, before whispering threats in a more comprehensive tone. “I know you can speak. Do you take me for a fool?” He’s face to furry snout, narrowed eyes burning holes into unknowing gentle ones. A tail whips back and forth behind it, a long tongue hung over sharp canine teeth as it pants. “I know beneath that wizard furry coat, you’re a bad-breathed beast with the knowledge of several languages. Don’t test me, I have all day. Oh, well…” His expression softens for a moment, looking absent-mindedly elsewhere. “Actually I have like two hours but— That’s not the point!" Cue the threatening expression as he snaps back into character. He’s so into it, he could have a crowd of medieval knights cornering him and he’d have to clue.

[metavasi]

        Jimin… hates grocery shopping, for a lack of better words. He’s just not too fond of masses of people—not because he has social anxiety, or anything of the sorts. There’s just something about being stuck between two strangers while in line that make his skin crawl. Like ants, burrowing a home in his veins; but, he wants cereal. Oreo O's, to be exact. Cheeks hollow with a sigh, a slight sheen of sweat sticking onto the apples of them due to the sweltering heat. And it’s really taking much too long to just check out—and this cashier, obviously new, keeps fumbling with his box of cereal. Jimin is trying not to get annoyed, really, because a new job is a bitch to get your hands used to, but his dog, Sunja, is waiting for him outside and it’s hot. Really hot. Probably much hotter underneath a layer of fur. So, he really can’t help it when his eyes slim (even more than naturally) into a glare, irritation teeming and almost spilling out from his lids.

        At least the kid finally scans his cereal successfully.

        His fingers—dainty compared to the rest of him—clench around the plastic bag playing house to his food. Almost, he flinches, because he hates the way the crinkly plastic feels between his digits. High-tailing it out of the grocery store, because the air in there is becoming quite stifling—but stopping stiff in his tracks when he sees someone crouched nose-to-snout with his dog. Which, isn’t unusual—his little (but obviously not little) Akita is quite adorable after all. What is unusual is that this kid (Jimin thinks he’s probably older) is talking, practically hissing, at his dog; and he’s about to step in (about to just plant his foot against this kid’s ass, honestly) but Jimin can’t help but to ease drop. Listing, partly miffed and partly amused. Of course, there’s some disbelief etched into the lines of his face—a bit of, ‘what the fuck?’ playing around his tongue.

        Although, it’s not the curse that slips out. It’s, “Huh, that’s interesting. I guess that makes my dog smarter than you, right?” He’s humming, just a bit, and the words didn’t sound as snarky as he had intended them to be. They sound casual. For a moment, his free hand pulls at the collar of his plain grey tee shirt, letting air hit his sticky skin—not even looking at this very peculiar stranger now as he talks. “I should never go back to school then—maybe I should just have my pretty Sunja teach me.” Coal eyes flicker to the dog in question. Quite seriously, he asks her, “Will you?”

        She barks in reply. 

[metavasi]

munoire said: {` bites her lip and reaches out scoop up the little spider, crouching down to release the creature onto the ground. } All gone. Can’t bite you at all.

[/ lets out his exhale with an audible whoosh,  all the tension in his body leaving at his spider-free skin. ] They're cute, but terrifying. [/ the only bugs he doesn't find cute are earwigs—oh, and he can't forget centipedes. but, the adorable factor does not take away any of his fear. ]

[metavasi]

For a moment, his eyes are diverted from the frets of his guitar—watching dust twirl in a stream of sunlight, peeking through the old windows teeming with character. Old, just a tad bit chipped, and beautifully rusted; the panel is hewed, bocate whittled into ash. The glass looks fragile. Jimin guesses that’s why they’re opened and closed with such care. The air he was holding hostage in his lungs is let out as a deep sigh, fingers just a bit stiff as he flits them into the correct position.

He strums once, softly, barely letting the sound of a C Major fill in the air. Wonders what to play, before just simply deciding on a simple lullaby to pass the time—and it was supposed to be quiet, because you’re supposed to be quiet while tucked away in the corner of a bookshop, but without really noticing it, he gets a bit louder. Actually singing rather than humming underneath his breath, and thinking about how the wind chimes outside match perfectly with his little tune.

Oh. The sound of his guitar is overtaking the silence now. There are even a few people watching him play. Oops.