ON EARTH WE'RE BRIEFLY GORGEOUS. @mmyun - Tumblr Blog

𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙍𝙊𝘿𝙐𝘾𝙄𝙉𝙂... 𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝙾𝙳𝙰 𝙻𝙸𝙽

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄: lin uses a variety of mediums spanning from charcoal pastels, oil paint, to collage work. his art often features vibrant colors, contrasting light, and a dichotomy of warm and cool tones. lin’s artwork is known for using eye-catching colors to express a youthful melancholy, often using light as a means of highlighting loneliness and darkness a sense of comfort.

#covtalks

what you call a clash of principles; ( @mmharin. )

yun stares down at his nails. there’s dirt wedged deep under his nails, as well as smudges all over his knuckles and fingertips. there are scratches along the back of his hand too, from fighting off a particularly feisty thorn-wielding vine. the sight is not particularly interesting, but yun is trying to appear aloof. like he can’t even bother to raise his head to make eye contact with his guest. he can feel another plant trying to wriggle it’s way up his pant leg where he’s hastily shoved it under the table. he tries to shake it off as subtly as possible. his leg bangs clearly and painfully against the wooden leg. with clear of his throat to mask a pained grunt, yun finally looks up to harin. his eyes are cold, narrowed, calculating. his face feels awkwardly stiff, but he’s rolling with it.

“look, i think pip would’ve stayed back himself if he actually made a deal with you guys,” yun huffs. his arms cross over his chest, and he nudges the pots on the ground further under the table with his shoe. there’s excited chirping from the foxgloves. yun winces. “this list is ridiculous. we need at least a week of planning to gather these kinds of ingredients for you. i get that you potions kids think you can just stomp around the school and get your way, but it doesn’t work like that here. in the herbology club we work with delicate and living magical creatures. it’s more sensitive than just throwing dried herbs into a boiling cauldron and stirring it around for a few days.”

he stares harin in the eyes and squares his shoulders. this is a battle he does not want to lose. not only will he have to unnecessarily mutilate some of his plants, but he’ll have to do it for her sake, which is not a particularly pleasing thought at all. he’d rather chop off his own fingers to throw in some potion club experiment than to do something willingly for harin. call him childish, but his dislike for the girl runs bone deep. etched right into the ethics of his marrow. “why don’t you send pip an owl, give us a month, and try again, yeah?” he waves a hand at her dismissively. “now shoo, i have to sweep. your presence has mucked up the energy in the greenhouse and the plants will wilt.”

#( starters. )#( interactions. )#( harin. )#( harin interactions. )

mmjungmi‌:

and it’s odd because it’s just physical touch, she can feel it, him. but it’s stimulation without the emotion she had come to expect. her head is vacant from any thought that isn’t fuck you daeil. yet, parts of her respond, her arms tug him closer against her chest, tuck him in warm and hot against her ( is it enough ? ) his promises still linger on her skin where his breath had hit, yun’s words still sticking to her forethought, just next to all the ones she wishes she could banish about daeil ( that’s a lie, she loves him, she’s sure of it ) something in her aches, unfair, unkindly reminding her that she knows, she’s fucking fully aware, of what it really feels like. what loving him feels like. did she ever stop? ( in some ways ) is this what it was like before ? ( no…. ) she pulls out of his kiss just enough for the magnetic centimeter, not even that much ; breathing in his breath, all of that carbon dioxide makes her feel a bit drunk. ( he doesn’t taste like daeil did… ) it’s distracting how much he doesn’t taste like daeil. but it’s fine. it’s in the name of a distraction, it’s important ( if she doesn’t do this, how will she exact her revenge ? ) her tongue licks at yun’s lips slow and teasing, fingers winding into his hair, knees brushing along the fabric of his pants while she hikes her leg to draw him closer. so close now… ( when was the last time she was this close to someone ? when had someone touched her, kissed her ? ) she shudders into the kiss, physical response only, her thoughts so stuck on daeil, yet they don’t match up. it’s so patchwork. her feelings, her thoughts, something doesn’t add up. her mind screams daeil but her body knows. it feels different. her ex doesn’t feel like this.

what she feels is yun. it’s distinct, there’s a melody to the way he breaths that matches with her heartbeat even without her calling out to it. she widens the kiss, her body latching onto the notion that if she pretends, it can become what she wants. it can be like him right ? yun can fill that right ? he said he would do it, he could fill the spaces she needed him to. she pushes herself backward, dragging him with her arms, lips locked like a promise as she pushes further onto the table. there’s something desperate about it, her imagination is failing her, true, but she’s trying. ( this whole thing feels so new ) it’s freeing, in some strange way. equally as much as it drives her heart through her ribs. the way it’s so different from what she wants ( thinks she wants ) but still works. she breaks apart again, and when she speaks her lips move against his, words muffled gently by his mouth. “why?” she asks, eyes sealed shut. “why are you helping me?” she can’t help but ask, kisses him again, this one feels nearly too chaste. just one and then she gives him room to speak.

when she pulls away yun’s heart rockets up into his throat. he doesn’t want it to end, never ever, so why is it over so soon? did he make a mistake? is he not enough? his eyes shoot across the room to him. is it because he’s not paying attention? but the shift in yun’s gaze does not last long. he locks back onto her, eyes wide and earnest. if she doesn’t want to kiss him, they don’t have to. he can just as easily hold her hand and pet her hair and tell her everything’s going to be alright. if she needs a brother, not a lover, well, he’ll just have to accept that. whatever she needs, she’ll have. ah, but now her arms are hooking around him. they’re falling, falling, falling. his arms brace on the hard table and she feels so tiny underneath him. he’s a glinting, iron shield ready to catch eyes and deflect the harsh arrow glares from her. wet and enthusiastic he sinks back into the kiss. one arm keeps his body safely above hers, with just the most electrifying brush of body on body when he moves to lick into her mouth. the other hand pushes her blazer to the side so he can run his fingers along her ribs through the thinner fabric of her shirt. it’s like he’s possessed, entire being consumed with jungmi, jungmi, jungmi, his lips and tongue and teeth worshipping every little detail of her pouting mouth. it’s less devastating when she pulls back again, and his breaths come in loud huffs as he tries to regain his breath. why? she asks. it’s such a foolish question. but jungmi could never be foolish, because she is nothing short of perfection. so yun must be the wrong one, not proving himself enough yet. so he bumps his nose along her cheek, humming contently as she presses another kiss to his mouth.

“i’m helping you because i love you noona, unconditionally,” he explains. “i would do anything you asked me to. your happiness is the only thing that matters.” his mouth drags to her jaw, to her neck, his lips shaping around her fluttering pulse. the beat of her heart he adores so much. “ah, noona means everything to me,” he murmurs into the pale column of her throat.

a feeling like invisible hands suddenly grip at his shoulders and shove at his chest. one moment he’s decadently tasting the sweetness of her skin. the next he’s flying, jerking far, far away from jungmi until he’s flat against the wall on the other side of the room. it happens so fast all he can do is gape as he’s pressed to the surface. he can’t leave her side! how could this happen! he struggles, but it’s magic that keeps him glued to the wall. wild eyes scan the room, and of course it’s him! with his wand out. their plan must’ve worked, but how dare he interfere? can’t he see that yun is the one jungmi wants, at least in this moment? he lost his right to her side the moment he caused that heartbroken look to twist her face. yun can’t stand for this, he won’t, as he lets his fingers twitch and fumble for his wand tucked in the waistband of his belted pants. jungmi needs him more than ever!

#( interactions. )#( jungmi. )#( jungmi interactions. )#mm:event1 #this is... okay

when the dust settles, i’ll be there; ( @mmjiyi. )

the day after and yun wants nothing more to keep his head buried in the dirt for the rest of his life. or, well, more accurately in the safe barrier of his comforter. memories from the night before are hazy, only swirling in bright technicolor, in and out of focus. only bits and pieces of his words and actions pull into focus, and yet what he does remember from the night leaves him whining into his pillow. god, who let him act like that? how powerful could that potion have been, to have him abandoning one of his closest friends to make a spectacle out of himself in front of the entire school? with her sister no less? it makes scorching embarrassment flame across his skin. he can switch schools, right? mahoutokoro should still be accepting students right? but he doesn’t speak any japanese, so maybe he’s better off at the american school. what was it called again? ilvermorny? american schools are a breeze compared to the korean school system anyway.

yun knows he’s being dramatic. it’s not like everyone else in the room had been unaffected and silently watching his... performance with jungmi. everyone had been acting a fool, and didn’t have any room to judge yun. but it’s still so out of character for him, so bold and public that he shrivels thinking about it. so maybe he wants to hide out in his room today, but the conversation jiyi wants to have seems sensitive anyway. so he offers his home, puts the kettle on, and let’s taizi settle into the throw blanket between them on the couch.

“so what did you want to talk about?” he asks. she hadn’t given many details, but all he can assume is it has to do with the night before. of course he hadn’t been able to pay attention much to the drama happening around him. his mind had been a singularly-focused arrow pointing straight at kwak jungmi. he doesn’t know how his friends fared with their own drugged states. so yun swallows his embarrassment and tucks a leg underneath himself, arm draped over the back of his couch to turn his focus to the girl in front of him. “i know we could all use some decompressing after what happened. you know i’ll never judge you.” he gives a serious little smile.

#( interactions. )#( starters. )#( jiyi. )#( jiyi starters. )#( jiyi interactions. )#here u go bb!

mmjaehyun

buzzin

mmyun

mmjaehyun‌:

@mmyun

in the hall, dim lights are on; the long space glows a gentle yellow. he walks, languid, down two doors. musses his post-nap hair, rubs red eyes, lets out an obnoxious, guttural yawn. it’s been two weeks since he moved into the apartment, but jaehyun, in all his idleness, has yet to unpack anything — has yet to open his boxes, to sweep the floors, to stock his drawers. he’s been pulling a shirt from here and using a tube of toothpaste from there. the only thing unpacked is the dog bowl and dog food in the corner. isn’t there supposed to be a charm for unpacking all this shit or something?

it feels strange being back in korea. some part of him wishes time wouldn’t pass him by so quickly. the past year felt like a second. suddenly, the idea of unpacking — of moving on, growing up — is emotional labor. thus, he enlists the help of his young friend-turned-neighbor.

three palpable knocks on yun’s door in quick succession, then he stuffs his hands into the back pockets of his shorts. it’s an exciting moment: he hasn’t seen the kid in a long time. “hey, it’s jaehyun. come help me twerp,” jaehyun lets out a small smile. “i have butterbeer! i hope you ate dinner ‘cause i’ve heard you can’t handle a drink.”

it’s nice to have a rare, calm day. he spends it in a t-shirt and sweatpants, a record spinning peacefully in the living room. little chores are enough to keep him occupied. he dusts and reorganizes and feeds the mandrakes and gives little taizi a well-deserved bath. he cooks a dinner large enough for a family and packs away the leftovers to bring as lunch to school over the next week. it’s a good day, and yun definitely needed some time in isolation after everything that’s been happening around him. a breather, to center himself and refocus on what’s important. so when there’s a knock on his door, yun’s in a much better place to greet whoever’s on the other side.

he shouldn’t be surprised to see jaehyun. his sunbae has been living in the same building for a month or two now, and it’s not surprising to see him coming in or out. but the fact that he’s actually at yun’s door has him breaking into a bright grin. jaehyun is uncomplicated, and even pleasant to be around. he can’t think of a better person to bring into his zen day.

“i wouldn’t feel like such a lightweight if i didn’t have hyungs pressuring me to drink,” he teases. “and yes, i ate. are you finally getting to unpacking?” he’ll have to remember to bring his wand along with him, though he usually doesn’t leave the house without it regardless. “hyung, if you’re hungry i could bring some leftovers over. i made pork belly for dinner and it turned out surprisingly well.”

#( interactions. )#( jaehyun. )#( jaehyun interactions. )

mmjungmi‌:

the way she feels uncomfortable in her own skin, just a moment, out of context and order, it sends a chill down her spine. a need to look back across the room, to search for the eyes she knows won’t be looking at her. but they could be, right ? his words were so, so soft to hear, silk dusting over the skin of her cheek, thrumming inside of her chest more compelling than the music somehow ( it burns, rages within her ; a need to make him pay ) she looks away from yun ( not him ) her gaze pinpointing until it sticks across the room, a hateful glare ( him. ) steps enclose at her side and she flinches back ( it’s an inception closer than she feels ready for, for a person who doesn’t make her heart beat ) scans yun’s features, she feels empty, but there’s something reassuring about the way he’s so familiar, and the out he offers her on a silver platter. he had said so much that just blew right past her veil of awareness but suddenly his words are hitting like slanted rain that stings her skin, soaks her in investment. she angles her shoulders towards him, brows drag down and suddenly, he exists again. what yun can offer matters now. she’s hearing him. she smirks ( it’s colder than usual, there’s no warmth, no love in it ) “you still remember that night?” it’s almost amusing ( nothing is really funny right now ) propping back against the table, hip to rounded edge, ( there’s a spike of awareness that reminds her who she really wants is across the room and she nearly visibly fights herself to turn away ) her lip pulls in between her teeth, cages there at yun’s words ( ‘ you don’t want him to turn his eyes away, do you ?’ ) she shakes her head hard, a strand of her hair sticks to her lipstick. she wishes daeil were the one across from her right now. ( that’s a stupid thought and she almost doesn’t mean it ) (( but something fights inside of her that she does, does she fucking ever )) it’s all the right words to say. her eyes twitch into a squint at him, yun’s features always so gracious in her heart, even when she had ignored him, bypassed him intentionally on the behalf of jina. she recalls yun’s smiles. he’s not smiling. his voice isn’t so warm now… it’s fuel, thoughts of daeil, burning alive with every emotion he had never expressed for her before. thoughts that he would run over here to her. jungmi’s chest heaves, in-taking air hot and ragged with a need to make him pay.

she wants to make him fucking suffer. jungmi aches with the urge to make him regret ever leaving her ; she loved him so much, she loved him so good. yet… it wasn’t enough.

a gulp, legs spread just enough where she’s propped that when she lightly tugs their conjoined hands he can sink between them, wedge himself against her. her eyes blazing with a nebula of complex emotions. “i never want his eyes off of me…” she tells him, belatedly and she didn’t mean to say that. it just comes out. she tugs him harder, closer. “i want him to see…” her body feels hot…her heart hurts. everything is fuzzy, she pants gently. ( daeil doesn’t even care about her, a part of her mind screams, fights, bitterly bleeds into her plans ) a louder part of her pouts, “can you help noona with that?” she slips her hand out of his, moves her palms up his biceps, over to his shoulders.

a part of yun wants to shake her and scream ‘of course! of course i remember! i cherish every single moment we’ve had together!’ but that’s not right. a glimmering clarity in yun’s memory places him back in that night, back in his own shoes. the yun then was confused, hesitant. untrusting but willing to play along because he remembers jungmi from his youth. she was always kind to him, always the pretty noona. back then he allows her to play around with him and walks away from the moment curious and a little flustered. the yun in his mind and the yun now don’t align. it feels like his eyes are crossing, painting an overlapping copies of an image when it should be one, solid form. but yun doesn’t care. what does it matter if he didn’t realized the importance of that reunion in the moment? he can see now how special it had been, what it has lead to. the memory is still there in sparkling clarity, because it laid the foundation for where they are now. how yun is just in her periphery, there only when her gaze latches on him. an unimportant decoration. something she can pull into her orbit and set adrift depending on her need. even now her pretty lip is tucked between her teeth, and there’s so much passion burning in her eyes but its far, far away. she lets him hold her hand, listens to his words, but it’s jungmi who gets the final say. her intentions, her motivations. and yun won’t have it any other way. he’s happy to be a fleeting fancy, if only just once she turned those eyes on him. even if its the refraction of the emotions for him shining on yun, it’ll be enough. and oh god! now her face meets his. there’s a perfect strand of hair moulded to her mouth and he instantly reaches out to it. he frees it from her lipstick and returns it carefully behind her ear. yun’s fingers are so slow as he tucks it into place, a shiver running down his spine at the delicateness of the soft shell of her ear. his entire body feels like a live wire, and she’s a conductor. he wants to pour everything into her.

it happens in a moment. her legs part, yun is pulled forward, and suddenly they’re too close too close too close! his hands shoot out to the table and his hands grip desperately at the wood. a loud gasp hitches from his lungs, and his eyes are blown wide. does she want this? is she agreeing? it’s too intense from this close and his brain is misfiring, unable to do anything but drink it all in. it’s her words that snap him out of it. hot jealousy curls in his gut. it’s all about him, him, him. yun is right in front of her, accepted into her embrace, with her gaze fixed on only him. but even then, she’s not seeing yun. he wants to whine, kick up a fuss, tell jungmi “yes, we can make him jealous, but can’t you at least say my name? can’t you see me? won’t you tell me i’m good for you? because i love you, can’t you see?” but he swallows it all, because this is about her, for her. he can’t let his own selfish desires ruin it now.

the final blow. can he help noona? that’s all he wants. he could drop to his knees and kiss her feet and thank her for the opportunity to help her. he nods, so fast his head hurts. he melts under her touch, lets her hold him. “i can noona, i will,” he promises. she needs yun for this, it’s a job only yun can do. she knows that, she’s told him, and it makes him glow with pride. yes this is for him, but she trusts yun for such an important task. it’s everything he could ask for. yun fits one hand at her waist (why does his hand feel like it was perfectly built for the shape?) and the other cradles her jaw. he tilts her face back and looks at her, at her lovely eyes and flushed face and panting lips. a hunger roars to life in his chest, all consuming and vicious. yun bends forward and presses his lips to hers. it’s all too heated and desperate and too much but it feels like he’s high, her thighs around his hips and her hands on him and her mouth so plump against his own. yun can’t help the whimper that he lets out, his body leaning closer. perfect, this is perfect, how could he ever live another moment outside of this?

#( interactions. )#( jungmi. )#( jungmi interactions. )#mm:event1 #AH!

wavylq

#( visuals. )#you're doing AMAZING sweetie

say a little prayer for me (darling believe me); ( @mmpip. )

there’s something intimidating about seeing pip here in his home. yun is so used to the barrier of school, the excuse of the herbology club to meet. when they’re fellow students, peers with an interest in wizarding plants, it’s so much easier. the sun is bright in the yosul greenhouse, casting away every shadow of doubt and sin. he can admire pip as he stands at the head of the table, wielding his presidential glow as they all dig their glove-covered hands into pots of dirt and smell the heady earth in the air. yun can respect a man who knows how to carefully re-home a volatile vine, or how to charm the soil to promote the brightest, healthiest greens. it’s an easy role to step into, sunbae and hoobae. united in nothing more than their mutual interests as students and wizards.

there are no plants here. no sunlight streaming through greenhouse glass. the moon is bright outside, and instead of earth the scent of the lavender candle yun had lit drifts through the air. there’s no veil to observe through. no social roles to fill. they’re in the privacy of yun’s home, an open bottle of maeobsa wine on the table, and yun’s heart is in his throat. because the admiration is still there, but there’s no glare from the sun to wash the other man in a sterilized glow. yun can look at pip, really looks at him, and see everything he admires about him. the confident curl of his lips, the light that catches in his eyes. the chicness of his dress. pip is like a panther, gorgeous and armed with teeth and claws and yun is terrified. but he wants to be closer. yun’s a fluttering rabbit who’s all too willing to bare his neck.

“i know this neighborhood looks like it’s all maeobsa, but this entire building is wizard owned. a lot of the shops are too,” yun explains. his brain is scrambling to find a safe topic as his fingers tap against the wine glass in his hands. he tucks his legs further under his weight. “it’s just nice to be off campus. i like having my space, my alone time. a place where i can have company and not have to worry about my housemates butting in.” a laugh, nervous and fluttery, tumbles past his lips.

#( starters. )#( pip. )#( pip starters. )#( pip interactions. )#be gay do crimes!

change the chords, sing a tune; ( @mmchaerin. )

there’s nothing like the warm spring sun to inspire creativity. call him a romantic, one of those old american poets who wrote about the splendors of nature. but this day seems made to inspire change and growth. he can smell wildflowers in the air, can hear the buzzing of excited insects’ wings. when he breathes in, the air is crisp and clean and cool like a bubbling spring. it clears his mind, makes way for new ideas to be born instead. it’s a day of new beginnings, so he has his newest guitar settled in his lap. the lacquer on the wood is still fresh and shining, making the color so much lighter and brighter. the strings are fresh and taught so when he dances his fingers across them their twang is sharp. it’s a good day, a great day, and he smiles with his eyes closed and face tilted towards the sun.

“so what are we going to name this duo?” he asks. another strum, e major, then his palm goes flat against the fret to stop the sound. he peaks an eye open to look at chaerin. maybe it’s not fair to pose this question to her, since this entire band idea had been at his incessancy. when he had discovered her skill at the piano, his mind immediately filled with thoughts of an acoustic pair, one with little frills and a genuine sound. but if he wants to entice her to dedicating to this project, he wants her to feel involved as well. so picking a name? it’s a good place to start. and an easy segue to talking about further details. a name, a label, it sparks a drive. it’s a bright neon sign with arrows pointing towards it, signaling their goal.

“we could go for more of a wizard inspired name. the amortentias or something like that. or we could bring our names into it? rin yun, moon lin, that could be fun to.” he strums another chord, b flat. “a wizard and a witch, strings and keys.” his nose wrinkles. “i don’t think i’m very good at this. feel free to stop me at any time.”

#( starters. )#( chaerin. )#( chaerin starters. )#here you go bb!!#( chaerin interactions. )

1v1 me minecraft right now, do it u won't !!!! 1v1 me guitar hero right now !!!! 😠

outgoing to > blueberry boy 🔵: i have an extra guitar if you want to play but i don’t think i’ve ever been mining before 😔

outgoing to > blueberry boy 🔵: are you trying to challenge me to a guitar battle rn or are you trying to murder me with a pickaxe?

#( answered. )#( changnam. )#( changnam texts. )#WHY WOULD YOU SEND ME THIS #mmchangnam

mmjungmi‌:

a dark cove on a lonely island, sea salt sticking to the skin, the crash of waves that erodes at the very heart of her ( kwak jungmi is drenched in it ; the coldness of a stretching ocean too far away to cross to the other side ) what would it be like to escape this reserve ? toes sink into sand, she can practically feel the ground swallowing her up and it chokes. what would it be like to feel a confident love, clutched desperately, joyously to your chest as you free fall ? instead, it seems fragile like a shell that’s fit crumble ( and that’s just the way it goes ; the fate of kwak jungmi, isn’t it ? ) a jaw-wired smile freezing on her face when the hand touches her shoulder and she knows it isn’t the right hand. linger look at the person standing across the room, eyelids flutter down ( eyes to ground, swallow gruffly, her throat is so dry ) rotating on axis slowly to look back. ( ‘noona’ ) her pupils dilate when she scans his features, it’s all just fine, familiar and there’s something that drips in sadness, and she doesn’t care ( it isn’t really what she wants to see ) it hurts to be this bitter. she can’t even speak so she just gives him a long look that tethers her like a string to the earthly plane because the pain of love ( what love means to kwak jungmi ) is a transcendent burden. ( ‘noona, you look so sad. please, what can i do ?’ ) she shifts attention down at the contact at her hand, it feels like nothing. warm, it’s warm and dry, her fingers remain as limp as her expression, before her lips twist down into a strict frown. his words continue, he’s speaking more, following his meaning is like trying to catch bubbles with her bare hands ( everything time it’s within grasp, the softest touch sends it popping out of existence )

not when it’s always been like this and how could he have known ? ( she didn’t even know ) “it’s fine.” she doesn’t mean that, her features turn hard, her fingers clutch onto his hold over hers as a reflex ( clutching a fist, teeth gritted again ) “they’re gonna regret it,” she exhales the words and it’s scary how much she means them. had she ever felt bitter obsession, a need to obtain or destroy the love of another person quite like this? ( certainly not ) absolutely so. it’s always been like this. the burning passion to have her affections returned ( no… it’s enough for her loved ones to be happy, isn’t it ? ) “i don’t know how to fix it,” she sneers, “but…” the sneer falls, fleeting like the blink of a firefly, a flash of golden in a sea of dark ( since when is hatred hope, since when is bitterness something she wants to cling to ? ) “why do they always….why isn’t my love ever…” she frowns, pouts. why is she still squeezing his hand ? “sorry.” ( “about your heart” ) the frown is back ( “i know how that feels" )

now that yun is here, here at her side, he gulps the love-laced oxygen into heaving lungs. the air rushes back into the room, the lights brightening into a halo, and he just drinks it all in. every sensory detail. of the curl in her hair, the unnameable scent of her perfume, the heat working it’s way under his skin and the colors oversaturated and bleeding into one another. it’s all a heady drug that rushes into his head and he’s awake, ever vigilant, focused on the deity in front of him. he follows her gaze like the north star, to where it’s pointed in the crowd and not at him. never at him, unless she needs something. but that’s okay, because he’s here when she does. who is it that has her attention so enraptured? are they the reason for the pain painted on her face like the color on her lips? if jungmi asks with that sweet voice of hers to act as her swift revenge, he shall. like persephone’s hellhound he’ll turn and sink his teeth into whoever twists her heart so. all she has to do is ask, she must know. she must, because she squeezes his hand and it sets off every muscle in his body to tense. ready to flee, ready to fight, ready to take her in his arms if she asks. and then she speaks, and yun listens. he stays silent and waits for her to voice her thoughts, through the start and stop. there’s so much conflict in her words, of yearning and pain. he hears the word ‘regret’ painted vividly in the air between them. it’s the magic word, the one that tells yun there is a culprit and there is justice to be had. it’s the only way to put a smile back on her face.

it’s an opening, and invitation for yun to offer himself to her. she’s hurt, she doesn’t know what to do, but there is someone who must pay. so yun steels himself for war. however it should manifest. “it’s going to be okay,” he promises. isn’t that how all the greatest love stories go? there’s pain along the way, heartbreaks. but it only makes the ending that much sweeter. you must work for your happily ever after, and this is yun’s trial. he cannot let jungmi down. “we can make them regret it,” he says. “whoever has made you think your love is not enough, we can prove them wrong.” he steps closer. “do you remember when we first met again, noona? when you were hiding from the guards? i helped you then, and i’ll help you now. but it’s not a just a distraction this time, is it?” yun’s heart is hammering in his chest. selfish, selfish, selfish, his brain chants. are you offering for her, or yourself? do you just want an excuse to taste her lips? but no, he tells himself. no it can’t be selfish. it’s the only way to gift her the revenge she seeks; and to show her a love that is unconditional. “we can’t just pretend. you don’t want him to turn his eyes away, do you? i can do that for you, noona. if you want. we can make him hurt too.”

#mm:event1 #( interactions. )#( jungmi. )#( jungmi interactions. )

astralogus

- ̗̀ do it for the mandrakes

mmyun

mmcheol‌:

cheol has had his fair share of bright ideas, and he’d like to think this was his brightest one yet. ever since he first laid eyes on them, back when nara noona had taken him aside and asked for his help, he knew it was love at first sight. so the second year concocted what he likes to call, the grand scheme. it was a plan without complexities, but considering how simple it was, the drawback was it flirted with the consequence of suspension, at the least, and expulsion, as the worst possible outcome. ( but what was life without a little bit of danger, cheol would say. life would be boring without a lil something to spice it up ) and thus, han cheol put his grand plan into motion. step one had been casting a gemino on the club keys when nara noona wasn’t looking, step two was finding an accomplice, and cheol had just the man in mind to help him. after a particularly riveting herbology club meeting, cheol waited for the other members to leave before he took aside lin yun, a club member he had grown close to throughout the first term. fingers circling around his wrist, cheol leads them far from prying eyes and into a dark corner of the greenhouse populated by the larger flora the club cultivated. before he could ask questions, cheol presses a finger to his lips, shushing them quietly before unveiling his plan to him, “@mmyun, listen, i’ve got a plan. it’s really important, and you’re the only man i can trust to help me out—” he says all this in stage whisper, eyes looking everywhere to keep watch as he divulged his secret machination “—we’re gonna save the mandrakes. we’re going to set them free from their prison. they don’t deserve to be stuck in pots for the rest of their lives. those little, wrinkly, dirt babies deserve love, and if no one is going to give it to them i, han cheol, will volunteer as tribute and become their daddy.”

stepping away from the fifth year, cheol reached into the blazer of his school uniform, pulling out a folded sheet of paper with a schedule and instructions for plan’s commencement. passing it to his friend, he makes eye contact with them, walking backwards and tripping over an overgrown root. standing up quickly and dusting off the dirt from his slacks, cheol clears his throat to hide his embarrassment, “meet me tonight in front of the mess hall at 9pm sharp, hyung. i’ll be waiting. remember, we gotta do it for the mandrakes.”

when it comes to wizards, yun is not exactly the picture you place next to the definition in the dictionary. sure, he’s grown up in the culture his entire life. his wand is an extension of his limbs, the floo is his main form of transportation, and his most beloved pet is a purple lump of long hair that any maeobsa would squash underfoot. but when it comes to schooling, to the mastering and honing of the magic he had been gifted with at birth, it holds little interest to him. he might as well go live in the city with those who know nothing about his world, armed only with his guitar and an imitation of their ways. there is only one magical love that yun fosters, and that is herbology. he’s always loved plants, loved the seagrass of macau and the cherry blossoms of japan and the unyielding pine trees of jeju. but yosul has opened his eyes to how much more exists in the wizarding world. of curling vines and glowing petals and leaves of precious metals. his time of herbology core classes may be up, but that doesn’t mean he’s done with magical plants. the herbology club is one of yun’s few passions at yosul, as well as the people in it. these witches and wizards understand him. they’re yun’s kin. because they’re not zipping around on the quidditch team or duelling fiercely with their wands. they’re here, in the greenhouses, clad in gardening gloves with dirt smudged across their cheeks. so yun is extra fond of his herbology peers. especially the spritely, sparkling-eyed cheol as he approached yun with nothing but mischief in his posture. yun listens, though, and can only find himself bobbing his head in agreement. plants are precious, living creatures just like the rest of them. how dare they be locked away in this greenhouse ready to be tortured and slaughtered for the sake of potions? especially the poor mandrakes, with their wrinkly features and fierce voices. surely the mandrakes are sentient enough to liberate?

“i’m on your side,” yun promises, eyebrows drawn together as fiercely as cheol’s. he’d never expected to be the father of twenty at his age, but a man must do what a man must do. “the mandrakes are all so young though, they could never survive on their own. i’ve got an apartment though, and i live alone. if you really want to do this, we can smuggle them out to my place. it’s close enough that transportation shouldn’t be hard, but far enough out of yosul’s reach. i can charm the whole place before we meet up and set aside a place for them.” he holds out his hand, ready to shake on the crime they’re about to commit. for the greater good, of course. “for the mandrakes, cheol.”

#( interactions. )#( cheol. )#( cheol interactions. )#4 the mandrakes!!!

EVENT I; PART I: THE FAIREST OF THEM ALL? ( ft. @mmjungmi. )

the sound of the party filters out all at once, like the air had been sucked out of the room leaving yun in a vacuum. he can vaguely see jina’s mouth moving out of the corner of his eye, still close from where they’d just wandered in and huddled in the corner. she’s speaking, but yun can’t pay attention to a single word. because jina is not the kwak his attention is focused on right now. everything fuzzes away at the edges until it’s her front and center in his vision. her who looks ethereal in her suit and oh so sad that yun’s heart breaks. what is it about tonight that’s made his attention snap in to focus? is it the lights, the music, the smartness of her jacket that’s opened yun’s eyes? because kwak jungmi has never looked more beautiful, and yun has never felt a love like this in his life. it consumes him, drowns him, hooks right into his chest and tugs painfully in her direction. how could he have missed this before? even when she had crowded him against the wall and brought her lips so close to his own, all for the sake of an illusion? how had he walked away with only his heart thumping and his cheeks stained pink when now it feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t take her hand in his and tell her how stunning she looks?

it’s not a choice when he tilts his face towards jina, eyes not leaving her sister. it’s not a choice when he murmurs, “hold that thought, i’ll be right back” before stalking across the room. it’s a necessity, because jungmi looks so devastating and so heartbroken it’s like a tragic greek statue. she’s carved out of cool marble that yun is absolutely not allowed to brush his fingers against to trace the loveliness of her form. but yun is a fool, head swimming with adoration and love, love, love! so he comes to her side, so weak and so devoted. he places a hand on her shoulder, trying to let his unbridled affection seep through the touch and let her know that there’s no need for such melancholy in her beautiful eyes. he’d do anything to take it away, to build over it with joy.

“noona,” he says, and god is the sound desperate. he aches for her, to make her better, to stand by her side. can’t his love be enough? won’t she see? “noona, you look so sad. please, what can i do?” what can he do but take her hand in his (bold, too bold, when has yun ever dared to be so forward!) and hold it close. “jungmi noona, just tell me what to do. i’ll make it better. just please don’t look so sad, my heart is breaking.”

#mm:event1 #( starters. )#( jungmi. )#( jungmi interactions. )#( jungmi starters. )#ITS HERE

all txts pls !!!!!

send ✆ for a morning text

outgoing to > noona neomu yeppo 🔁: noona its way too early in the morning

outgoing to > noona neomu yeppo 🔁: some of us have classes i can’t be breaking you in whenever you want

outgoing to > noona neomu yeppo 🔁: text me at lunch hours and we’ll see!!

#( answered. )#( jungmi. )#( jungmi answered. )#mmjungmi

like looking into a rose-tinted mirror; ( @mmyemi. )

it’s not the polite thing to do to pick favorites when it’s among people. people are not means to an end, they are ends in and of themselves. trying to place value on them, to weigh your relationships on a scale to see who ends up on top, it’s not right. so when yun looks to his friends, he sees people he cherishes, all who mean different things in his life. so no, yun doesn’t place hyemi on a higher level than his other friends. she doesn’t get the gold medal with ‘yun’s one and only best friend!’ engraved on the front. but hyemi is the one he sees himself in the most. she’s the one who he can talk to and feel his own pain, his own wonder, his own insecurities and joys reflected back to. because hyemi is the silver-under-glass for yun. she is a flipped copy of him. so similar, and yet just the opposite. it’s not himself he’s really looking at, but the mirror image of himself. hyemi with her maeobsa mother and absent wizard father, with that empty half of herself that is the phantom limb yun wears.

so maybe hyemi isn’t his best friend, but he knows what she is to him. she is like the missing part of himself, the alternate dimension version where he spent his life raised by his maeobsa blood, yearning to be in touch with his magical side. their pain is one coin, two sides. he’s the head; clinging to his anthropology of maeobsa textbook and staring down at the seoul streets from his guarded apartment window. she’s the tail; experiencing the wizarding world for the first time as she steps onto the yosul campus. all the wonder and power and family hierarchy that she had been denied. it’s addicting talking to her, being around her. it’s like the coin is spinning so fast that the faces can’t be seen, just one blurred globe with no sides and no edges. a complete circle.

yun is just comfortable with hyemi, even now as he clings to her arm and walks with purposeful steps through the busy street. their mission (or the mission yun had begged hyemi to join him on) is to replenish school supplies. his monthly allowance from his mother jingles happily in his coin purse as he trots along. “with how many inches of paper they’re making us write a night you’d think they’d offer free parchment to the students,” yun muses. it should be an irritation, having to go on such a trivial chore. but with his company he can’t help but smile. “do you mind if we stop at the pet store on the way back? i need new shampoo for taizi.” he can’t forget about his precious puff.

#( starters. )#( hyemi. )#( hyemi interactions. )#( hyemi starters. )#yun narcissus

on the count of three say you miss me; ( @mmjina. )

when had life ever become this complicated? is it a sign of growing out of childhood innocence when nothing seems to go right anymore? because it’s how yun feels. age sits heavy in his bones, burrowing into his marrow and leeching the joy out of his very core. it’s not that he’s unhappy. he’s not miserable. he’s just bitten into the forbidden fruit, and suddenly he can see the world with new eyes. and with his unclouded mind comes feelings he’s never expected before. a complicated miasma of envy and lust and bitterness and frustration. problems can’t be solved with a hug and a stumbled apology anymore. and he doesn’t want them to. because problems aren’t just sharing toys or pushing each other down in the playground. it goes much deeper than that, a cutting blade that wounds deeper than a bandaid can solve. and yun has all these complicated emotions inside of him, so instead of addressing the problem he lets the open wound fester until its a gnarly, numb scar. a scar that wouldn’t exist if he had swallowed his pride and let open communication weave between them like a stitch closing flesh.

so yun is sick of being this angsty, turmoil-riddled adult. he’s sick of letting jina dictate when they’re allowed to be friends and when they’re not. because her absence in his life is another gaping hole that pains him to look at. it hadn’t been easy to build the bridge back from where it’d been torched in childhood. it was a struggle of sharp words and awkward silence and a genuine effort to forge a friendship that will last. and maybe he tried too hard with jina, and maybe that’s why his efforts for a friendship came off as more. it hurts him to think that he’d led jina one when all he wanted to do was be by her side and wish for her happiness. is that enough to signal love? does he take his devotion to his friends too far, or is jina just so unused to unbridled support that the feelings were twisted into something more? either way, it’s lead to another break in their friendship, and now months later yun is sick of it. if he has to dial back his open affection for his friend he will, as long as it means he doesn’t have to stare at her unsaved number in his phone whenever he wants to reach out. maybe he’ll build this bridge out of something less flammable this time.

so now they’ve agreed to talk and yun is seated in the very top of the astronomy tower. the sun has only just begun to sink, and the sky is a deep blue waiting to glow reds and oranges. is it too much, how he has a blanket spread on the ground to sit comfortably and his guitar in his lap? it helps calm his anxious mind, his fingers plucking absently at the strings while he waits. the silence would only make it worse. and he’s still the same yun as always who would do the same thing in the kwak’s living room, the couch’s throw spread on the ground and a pillow underneath him as he croons folk songs to the younger jina. maybe he can envoke the easier times like this, pluck some magic into the strings and create the illusion that they’re in the single digits again and their only worries were what snacks their mothers would prepare. he just wants this meeting to work, even if it’s to settle the unanswered questions hanging between them. tie up the loose ends and go on their merry ways in separate directions. yun hopes it’s not as such, but as he stares up at the stars trying to shine through the dusk sunlight he wonders if they predict a future of heartache and let-down. all he can do is play and wait for jina to arrive.

#( starters. )#( interactions. )#( jina. )#( jina interactions. )#OK SHES HERE #love the no direct dialogue im great at his #this

with stars in his eyes, he greets; ( @mmchangmin. )

how do you keep up with the ones you love? it feels like such an impossible task. maybe he’s got too many distractions on his mind. there are classes, and with each year he ages the coursework becomes harder and harder, demanding so much more of the attention and time that yun just does not want to dedicate. it’s a blow to his usually stable ego to be having such a hard time with his lessons. if he had been born a studious soul than sure, fifth year isn’t so bad. but there’s not a single part of yun that cares about potions or charms or defense against the dark arts. his relationship with magic is a vibrant one; there’s no rules, no structures. his wand obeys him when it wants to, and casts spells left of his intentions, but it’s fine when he’s at home and can thrive in the chaos magic forges around him. but with school there are rules and expectations he increasingly can’t meet, not with their narrow views of what is correct and what is a flagrant clumsiness with the magic he had been gifted with. the pressure is exhausting, and it’s distracting him from his usual joys in life.

but yun is not one to let himself sink into self-loathing and wrap himself in sticky loneliness. his feet and arms and chest might feel heavier, but it’s all a mindset. if he lets himself spiral there’s no coming out of it, not with his music or his mother or his friends. so for the sake of his own sanity he needs to find a way to clear his head, remind himself that his worth isn’t determined by the grades delivered at the end of the year. and if there’s one person yun knows is best to drag him out of his funk, it’s changmin. because changmin has been nothing but adoring to yun, making him feel small and special and cared for. like the burdens of this world don’t have to be shouldered by him alone, and that if he stumbles and fails it’s not the end of the world. so he seeks out changmin at the end of the baking club’s meeting, lingering in the doorway with his hands fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. when the room clears except for his intended target, yun carefully slips inside.

“ hyung?” he calls to make his presence known. it’s silly, how mopey he feels. he’s an adult for merlin’s sake, self-sufficient and living on his own. he shouldn’t need to tuck tail and run off for his brother figure every time he’s feeling down. but there’s just a hopelessness wrapped chokingly around his neck and he just wants a reprieve. “are you busy? i was wondering if we could make some cookies together. i want to send some to my mom.” at least he comes armed with an excuse, to mask his sorry attempt of garnering attention and sympathy. a shield from his childishness.

#( starters. )#( interactions. )#( changmin. )#( changmin interactions. )#hope this is okay!!!

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