0-100 @mkminkyu-blog - Tumblr Blog

mkxbailey:

being obsessed with her devices wasn’t a trait bailey was proud of. it was from texting, to social media, to fan cafes, to music, to just everything really - pure addiction, her friends called it. as soon as his hand meets the door frame, bailey jumps from being startled, a tiny squeak leaving her lips. the teenager looked around as if suddenly realizing where she was and when she saw the look on minkyu’s face, she seemingly felt small.

just when she opened her mouth, about to form the words of an apology, the instructor opened his. her look instantly went from embarrassed to cold. bailey popped out her hip and crossed her arms, moving more into the center of the doorway to block him even more, a frown upon her lips. she didn’t care if he was older or younger than her, he needed manners. "Excuse me, mister, but what if I didn’t want to get out of your way?“

he makes no attempt to mask the clear irritation that shadows his features. why did idols have to be so annoying? besides, what business did she have occupying the entrance to the recording room he worked in.

he offers no sign of moving anytime soon. instead, he towers over the smaller girl. his eyes narrowed to thin slits, clear malice in his gaze. “you don’t want to find out, sweetheart.” though there’s no kind sentiment to his words, each syllable drips with poison as he inches closer. he’s in no hurry, not bound to any tight schedule. nevertheless, he’d prefer to avoid clashing swords with another whiny idol. he found the females to be the worst offenders when it came to level of obnoxiousness. “now, why don’t you take that pretty little ass of yours and make it disappear from my sight.”

#mkxbailey #( &&. para )

mkxjoonki

Late night fights; Joonkyu

mkminkyu-blog

mkxjoonki:

It’s sometimes late– he isn’t really exactly sure, but it’s late. Most everyone has gone home, even the trainees and idols who usually occupy the practice rooms for hours into the night have abandoned the building in favor of getting some rest. But he’s still here. He’s always here. These days with everything crumbling, he’s here catching up work he was too busy drinking to do. It’s a pain and he has a headache and he’s skipped out on masking his alcohol with coffee and taken straight to swigs from a flask he keeps tucked in his pocket. No one is here and no one cares.

No one is here and he’s parked himself on a couch in one of the dressing rooms to set on a batch of jackets that need stitched and cleaned up. Quiet halls and even quieter rooms are what he’s costumed to and he’s certainly surprised when he finds he’s not as alone as he thought he actually was in the building. “Oh fuck–” He only glimpses him in the hall and maybe if he didn’t say anything he could’ve escaped the other’s notice, but he’s never been very good at keeping out of fights.

most nights there is no need for minkyu to stay late. he’s surprisingly productive during the day, not by his own accord, mind you. but, with the upper management constantly breathing down his neck he finds the motivation to put effort into his job. he stays late in the building for his personal business, to write lyrics or record his own songs. such a high-tech studio all to himself and he didn’t have to pay a dime to use it. he supposed there were some perks to working at MK.

he decides it’s time to call it quits for the night having already sat hunched over his notebook for hours brainstorming lyrics. the usual brilliance that spilled from his pen ran dry, as of late he’s found his creativity fleeting. the increasingly frustrated rapper storms down the empty halls of MK, eager to find a bar and drown the all too familiar sorrow rising in his throat. only, he stops, so abruptly he nearly tumbles forward. a voice he knows too well jolts him to reality and has him slamming the dressing room door all the way open. “why are you still here?”

#mkxjoonki #( &&. para )#is this real life

#( &&. ooc )

he’s not in one of his better moods. then again, is he ever? the rapper storms down the halls of MK almost daring someone to cross his path just so he can unleash his wrath. this is not an uncommon sight. most of the trainees had come to fear the rap instructor just based solely on appearances. there’s a certain coldness to the manner in which he carries himself, an icy quality to the way his sweeping glare pierces every single trainee in sight. he is an eternal winter.

he comes to a halting stop finding his desired doorway to be blocked by someone texting. he can’t tell whether this annoying individual is a trainee or an idol nor does he care. a hand connects with the frame of the door causing a reverberating slap to sound throughout the practice floor. “mind getting the fuck out of my way?”

#prodstart #( &&. para )#lmao what is this idk

sleep sentence starters 💤

"*yawn* I'm not tired I swear..."

"I'm too tired for this shit."

"Would you get mad if I fell asleep on you? You're so comfy.."

"You can take a nap on me if you want."

*wiggles around while dreaming like a sleeping puppy*

"I just had the weirdest dream... and you were in it!"

"My snoring's not that bad..."

"I do not snore!"

"Do I really snore?"

"I'm trying to sleep here!"

"That doesn't look like a very comfortable place to sleep."

*yawn*

"I do not drool when I sleep!"

"Do I really drool when I sleep?"

"If you do the cold water prank on me while I'm sleeping I'll kill you."

"If you do the whipped cream and feather prank on me while I'm sleeping you're dead to me."

*sleepy mumbling noises*

"Do I really talk in my sleep?"

"Do I say anything interesting when I talk in my sleep?"

"Have a nice nap?"

"Goodnight, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite."

"Want me to sing you a lullaby?"

"Having trouble sleeping?"

"You can sleep in my bed if you want."

"Your snoring kept me up all night."

"Go to sleep already..."

"You were crying in your sleep... is everything alright?"

"Bad dreams again?"

"Not another nightmare is it?"

"You look exhausted, you should get some sleep."

*draws mustache on you while you sleep*

"You woke me up... I was having a nice nap too..."

"I wanna go back to bed..."

"Wh-? I jus' woke up..."

"You sleep too much."

"You don't sleep enough"

"You look so cute when you're asleep. So peaceful."

"Sometimes I watch you sleep."

#( &&. games )

goodishmusic

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mkminkyu-blog

goodishmusic:

ode to sleep | twenty one pilots

#( &&. noise )#i feel like minkyu probably wouldn't listen to twenty one pilots but #fuck!!! this song is so him this song is so relevant 2 hIM I MUST REBLOG

title: rain date: 08/4/2015 time: 3:14 am

rain.

it assaults him at all angles. sharp and angled droplets of water slapping against his exposed skin with such an icy intensity that he loses all sense of feeling in both his face and hands. he’d been foolish, leaving the house without much protection of the storm that he’d known had been brewing since the night prior. the thin fabric of his jacket clings to every contour of his lithe torso leaving him a sopping, quivering mess. the thought of at last reaching his humble (yet heated) home almost leaves his eyes watering, not from the rain, but tears of joy.

exhaustion slows his steps and weakens his determination to power through the harsh winds. his boss had offered him an umbrella as he’d finished his shift. however, being the proud sixteen year old he was, minkyu refused. rain’s no match for the invincibility youth provided him. oh, how wrong he’d been.

just a few more blocks, he assures himself. a warm home awaited him, with dinner on the table and smiling faces to welcome him. his grandmother would urge him to sing her a song, to which he’d comply no matter how painful it was for him to think about what could have been. his father would compliment him coldly yet flash him a wry smile leaving him both confused and pleased. he’d perhaps write some lyrics, or listen to some music, then sleep and repeat. a tedious life, not the life a teenager should live, but the one he’d been given. minkyu tries his best not to complain.

he returns home. his grandmother is asleep on the futon. he enters the washroom to rid himself of his wet clothes, instead, he falls to his knees with a scream.

“appa!”

---

rain.

the gentle rhythm of water hitting glass seeps into his dream and rouses him to consciousness. he sits up slowly. he can guess the time without checking digital clock beside his bed. the one that so often mocks him. it’s three in the morning, the same time he wakes every night. it’s never this peaceful and minkyu wonders what’s different this time.

he watches the rain roll down his window, his head filled with memories of that day. he remembers it all too vividly. the way his father swung like a pendulum, how his eyes looked like marbles and his skin paper pale. minkyu’s stopped hoping for a day to come where he wouldn’t remember. not with the way he shivers when it rains or becomes nauseous at the sight of rope. hell, he can’t even walk into his own bathroom without seeing his father.

i’m sorry, minkyu. take care of her.

some note. the words are engraved in his memory, as is the texture of the crumpled paper and the way the ink had bled and smeared. he’ll never forget, no matter how hard he tries.

he gives in to the pain, give in to the bitterness. there’s nothing left for this world to offer him. there’s no happiness, no grief. it’s all monotone, shades of gray. he’s felt it all and he wonders if that’s how his father had perceived his life before ending it. there’s no sense fighting, he decides, the inevitability of his self inflicted demise. if not tomorrow, then the next day. realistically speaking, soon he’ll have no reason to live. no matter how much he wishes otherwise, she is too old and too frail. when she is gone he will have fulfilled his father’s dying wish. then, he shall join him.

#( &&. self para )#tw: suidice #tw: suicide mention #idk what to tag this but????#kyu has nightmares about his dad basically so this is that #??????????????#this is shit but anyway

hey guys i’m alive! i’m gonna go reply to stuff in the starter tag... in the mean time maybe add me on aim for plotting n stuff?

#( &&. ooc )#I THINK THERE'S A LOT OF PPL I WAS PLOTTING W/ AND DIDNT REPLY TO IM SRRY #IM TRASH #anyway!#my aim is #eccentricxs #so add me ayooo

hi friends, i’ve been awake for twenty four hours straight & tbh i think i’m on the verge of death, so don’t expect much activity from me today!

#( &&. ooc )#same goes for faith & jisoo #tbh i stayed up all night to watch the sunrise when i could've slept and just woken up early but...#logic has never been my strong suit #aNYWAY #i'll be on tomorrow !!

muuuuusic93

It G Ma (Remix) Ft. ASAP Ferg, Father, Waka Flocka, & Dumbfoundead

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#( &&. noise )#I'll be on in a bit #and I'll try to be productive #also why does this exist tbh #how did this happen

freakinmeow

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*don’t be mad cause i’m doing me better than you doing you*

#( &&. noise )

mkivy-blog

8:32 AM. Write something about love, your image is too harsh. You need to sound more relatable, not like you’re always mad at the world. The CEO’s words rang through her head. Annoyance flooding her veins as a muted sound of agreement broke free from gritted teeth.

10:32 PM. The incessant tapping of a pen against paper was the only sound filling an empty dance room. Ivy had spent the whole day mulling over the topic - nothing came to mind. Sure, she had crushes - but for twenty-three years the rapper had upheld the stereotypical motto: I’m married to the music. Yeah, she had wrote about that, but that couldn’t even count for a love song. She knew nothing, she experienced nothing. How was she supposed to write about something she never experienced and never yearned for? With a frustrated slam to the ground, her notebook crashed against the ground - an irritated kick launching it across the room, while her pen met the same fate. In a flurry of angered motions, hands entangled themselves in blonde locks as she brought her knees to her chest, “What the fuuuuuuck! How am I even supposed to write this SHIT. I can’t make this bullshit up, goddamn. I don’t even want to! I’m not trying to be a little fake biiiiiiiiitch - ”

mkminkyu-blog

he hated routine, the classic nine to five lifestyle, it made life a fucking bore. a child of the new age, his attention span was already short enough. he grew bored of things easily, routines only assisted in this process. few things kept him continually interested, music being one of them. a job so closely tied to his passion, one would think he’d enjoy it. they couldn’t be more wrong. he couldn’t imagine a worse fate than his. dealing with untalented brats on the daily, writing songs for unappreciative idols, and having his work broadcasted to millions without receiving hardly as much credit as he deserved. regardless, he trudged on. this job wasn’t for him, but for his grandmother. he needed to keep a roof over their heads, so he put in the extra hours to ensure his job security.

10:32 pm. the building isn’t empty, far from it. at the very least he can acknowledge that everyone in entertainment, idols included, work their absolute hardest. his steps echo as he proceeds through the harsh fluorescent lighted hall, a sudden outburst of curses seeping from a nearby practice room catching his attention. he enters the room without hesitation, curiosity has always gotten the best of him. the face he’s greeted with is a familiar one and for some reason he finds himself relieved to see it’s her. perhaps he’s just sick of dealing with the trainees for the day. “what the hell was that all about?”