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[osseuses]

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[osseuses]

maginoire‌:

Warmth is what hit her first, trickling in from between the blinds and cascading over soft features. With lips parted, her breathing was rhythmic, in tune with the steps of the man who walked around busying himself as she fell victim to her deep slumber. She pulled the sheets up to her chin, nestled in a scent that was familiar and yet still so new to her senses. His voice was soft, an airy whisper circulating around her as it bled into her dreams. The blonde’s response was nothing but a half-asleep “go away” followed by a turn away from him for disturbing her peace. Not as if he owned the mattress she laid on. It was only when his hands came over to block all airways does she reach her hand up to swat away his, poking a tongue out to leave saliva on his palm as her form of revenge.

“I hope you realize that killing me is just going to result in me eternally sleeping here.” She rolled over, cheek pressed against the soft cotton under her as she eyed at her host. “And you know I’d definitely haunt you for it too.” Narrowing her eyes, she laughed softly, only to feel a tinge of pain crawl up the back of her skull. Ara was no stranger to the feeling of a hangover, and it has her burying her face further into his blankets with a groan of pain. She rubbed her the heels of her palms against eyes still coated in eyeliner and glitter, looking up to see the smudges on fresh white. “Sorry,” She mumbled before sitting up on his bed and stretching her limbs as if she belonged right there. 

“So, for starters: how many things did I do that I’ll regret today or any time soon, and how many of those things are on video? Brace me if I’m going to be a viral star anytime soon, I’d like to know before my hashtag starts trending.” She’s only half joking, but the journalist truly never remembered what occurred after their nights out. She had thought the first occurrence would have been a one-time problem, but her interest in the man had her in his company more often than she had intended. Sooner, rather than later, she had grown comfortable enough to let herself go around him. She trusted him, and plus, she didn’t mind waking up to his presence either. A soft grin graced her features as she looked at him, clasped hands resting in her lap.

“Because I’ve once again soiled your morning and ruined your bed, what would you like for breakfast today?” Her tone was nonchalant as if they’d already fallen into the rhythm of her crashing at his residence without permission. As if it was something they just did now. She shuffled to the edge of the bed, legs dangling over the side as she looked up at him. “I make a mean French toast by the way.”

"Better watch out for the ghostly Ara, then." Was his response to her speaking of murder and haunting. A contrasting topic with the brightness of the morning and the softness of the linens he knew she was taking advantage of, covering his bed and mattress. 

He had a gentle taste for certain things, soft colours, pastels that seemed to work well with anything else that could blend together with the way it barely held contrast. It was more than easy to fall asleep in that sort of material than the ones people seemed to cherish. Puffy, fluffy, round and bouncy.

Then again, Insoo rarely slept in his bed. But Ara enjoyed it, and if a thought did come to him in between making sure she was rested the first night and now, it was that it was almost as if this room had been decorated to simply fit her in. 

Some people were like that though, weren't they? They walked into others' lives and seemed to have never been anywhere else from day one until whenever. Insoo's friendships were all based on how well their souls seemed to align with his.

He truly did believe in the spiritual aspect of connections, any of them. "I heard these type of stories are best told around a morning cup of coffee but--" 

But to indulge into the stories that she was starting to feel most of his nights out with, he had a smile and a more than ready memory at the surface of his mind, "Here's an aperitif of your adventures. Remember the bouncer from yesterday night? You almost begged him for a piggyback ride to the parking lot." 

Not just that, she’d also gotten the piggyback ride and she’d fallen asleep on his back too because Insoo had asked the gentleman to simply, walk about so that she wouldn’t wake up and possibly be taken with the urge to throw up in his car. He liked Ara just fine and she had her adorable tendencies, but no thanks to the vomit. A lot more had occurred from just that single request--but again, as he’d said--just an aperitif and the rest for said breakfast.

Insoo moved away from the bed as she found her stance to at least partially escape the comfort of it. His arms found a fold across his chest and his eyebrows were up and arched as he gave her a nod, he could agree on the breakfast part. 

Whether she owed him one or not, she could make of it what she wished but he probed slightly on that confidence in her skills, a recurring theme between them. Insoo almost sounding like he was doubting every affirmation she had about her, and Ara making sure to remind him by proving them one by one.

"What if I don't want french toast? What else are you good at?"

[osseuses]

tuwam‌:

it wasn’t that she didn’t consider herself human. not at all.

when a girl as young as she was had to stand before a man, a man kneeling, blindfolded and with nothing but the shake of his nerves around her shackles informing her, hanna believed she was human. she believed the only thing that she really could about her father. that he was a protector, that he had to be a protector, that it didn’t make sense that the person, blindfolded and kneeling before him could be anything other than a bad man. because bad men were easy to identify. even if hanna didn’t get the usual monsters under her bed as the bad men, every child tries to have an image in order to have a hero.

and hanna was so sure of the hero in this tale. so sure of the monster.

the heroes were human, she knew that. she understood that. not simply men, just human. because sometimes, sometimes, her father would speak of her mother like the hero she was. how human she was. though hanna never quite understood the meaning behind that. to a younger hanna, an innocent hanna, the man who pulled the trigger, was still the hero.

was still human.

until it started to slip. until the blindfold was no longer there and the one standing before the kneeling victim was her. until she could no longer hide the look of fear and despair in the victim’s eyes. until she was the one holding the gun and she was the one stealing life. in the fairy tales up until then, the ones who would kill, the ones who would steal life, she knew who they were, she didn’t imagine herself as one. almost instantly, in the confines of a small gray room in the basement of their compound, hanna discovered that monsters can be anyone. even a little girl who splatters blood and shatters life with the pull of a trigger.

and just like that, the humanity that her father praised in her mother, she couldn’t find. couldn’t imagine. humans aren’t always the heroes, but they aren’t always the monsters. it takes a certain person to become the monster and from that day that’s what hanna had been, whether she realized it or not. she’d been the one without regret, without remorse. and as she lies here, as she feels wetness on her cheeks and hears her own sniffles echo through the phone, she’s trying to figure out which one is okay to be. 

the one who pulls the trigger and walks away, or who pulls it and can’t blackout the image when they turn away.’

“i’m at the playground.”

she’s trying to figure out how okay it is to be human, if she even is human, and if it’s supposed to hurt this much.

minsoo was moving, whether he’d known it would be the outcome of the night from the moment he’d picked up her call or not, it didn’t matter. whether it mattered or not that it was just a succession of actions to follow through to a more meaningful matter, he didn’t want to linger on it. mostly because he was trying to pinpoint a few things. his shoes, his jacket, the jiggling of his keys--wrapped around his finger.

the playground and the image of it and if he was thinking of the right one, it made him sigh more than spur forward with a comment. there wasn’t much he felt like he could say, it could be from many things. it could be that as usual, he just enjoyed it more, the less words had to be exchanged. 

he’d always appreciated the quality of a silent interaction, over the superficiality of everything people wanted to say to one another about their lives. what was going on. their worries. what made them happy. what drove them to do things. to chatter on without a care for the peace of mind of others. 

common decency however had him giving her a reassurance of sort, “i am coming, stay put.” albeit a bit abrupt--sans the try not to cry more than you already are to avoid headaches in the back of his mind. now out of his apartment and out of comfort and knowing that he’d purposefully let himself be urged out of it. there was a taste of irritation at the back of his throat, although mostly at himself and his own actions that his mind would have him figure out later on.

when things were feeling less like an automatic string of events. less like it had to be done. since when did minsoo have the idea that something involving someone else had to be done and nonetheless by his own means, with his own involvement? 

“unless--if you’re on a swing, you should maybe make use of it.” the breeze might help, it came to him mid halting for a taxi, mid getting inside and after giving the driver the general address closest to the location itself. he’d walk the remaining distance. the cool air might do him some good for some last minute thoughts on what hanna was going through. this wasn’t something he’d ever done, an intervention of sort. it felt like--it just felt like he was taking on something even bigger than hanna herself--and she was as impressive as the storm that sprung on you by surprise.

that was the gist of it. the surprising element. the one thing that’d ticked more than appeased then. it still did its tricks now and then. but it’d always felt like the kind of storm that sat in the palm of her hands, perhaps not controlled--but just swirling.

this one--this one felt like it would ravage if it wasn’t handled properly. how that could be done? color him clueless, he’d have to take a quiet walk to her and try to figure it out as they went through the cracks of this whirlwind. 

[osseuses]

Normally, Ara was prepared to combat his words with an even wittier phrase or tactic. However, this one catches her off guard was one reason and one reason only: the words held more truth than she had expected. She’d already made a habit of making him breakfast, making mental notes of what he liked and how well he liked it cooked. So for Insoo to verbalize what had already become a reality had her more flustered than she had expected. Ara accepted life as it was, but when it was laid out in front of her in such a way, it often left her tongue-tied. However, in order to keep up her usual banter, she tilted her head to let golden tresses fall across her shoulder. “Oh – what? I’ve already been doing that for another guy. Looks a lot like you, talks a lot like you too. Now that I think about it, you have a twin or somethin’?” @maginoire

His smile was amused, borderline endeared. Ara had managed to pull that from him, it seemed ever since that first dramatically and more importantly romantically valentine event he'd indulged them both in. That was the secret of this here, sitting in between them and this kitchen that was growing as she'd just stated, as a common ground. A bit like a no man’s land if you asked Insoo. Not that they were on full on war, but the girl was a journalist, there wasn't a lot of things that didn't involve juggling tactics. It was just a given. "Mhm, wouldn't know about a twin, I'm a spoiled single child. Have you picked up a stray somewhere? I mean," What did he mean? Not much. This was growing banter, he just had to feed it. "You can't compare me to just about anyone, it's rude. I wouldn't do that to you." There was the mimic of a disappointed sigh as he let his cheek rest firm against his palm. Regarding her much with the same tilt she had of her head.

[osseuses]

A plot with sebastian yatra ft reik un año. Thx.

[osseuses]

tuwam‌:

msg: i dont know if magic is the right word but thank you msg: just for the compliment thank you  🙈 🙈 🙈 🙈 

he’s been a little full of that lately. full of gratitude and no where to really put it. no amount of times to say it that will feel like enough. thanking the sold out concerts, the people who bought the album, who listened, who supported when all he’s doing is what he enjoys, what he loves. doing it without strings attached always feel dangerous, surreal. but for people to appreciate it, for chungha to appreciate it - well the emoji he types back conveys a very similar feeling. msg: tell me if you have a favorite, id love to hear any thoughts you have msg: lets go to texas she says msg: you think it’ll be okay if i just whisk you away from all your schedules 👀

that’s one thing he’s grown to like. while some of them miss the bustle of it all, he’s always preferred working in calm, and the freedom he gets with choosing his own events. it’s why being able to do music on his own terms - feels like a bit of a vacation. in it’s own right.

msg: does this count as a vacation? or do i sound like a workaholic? too cliche? msg: how was visiting your home? old home? not sure which ones more comforting for you now, korea or texas 

msg : what else could describe it? msg : truthfully, do you have a definition of what your album is to you? 

it was a little of a special part of every artist, every singer. whether idols or integrated in the industry by other means. to her, it’d always been that dreamy factor. to have something of your own, something to pour into in a way that she’d always wished to. 

but there were a few artists that she would jealously consider to truly give more than bits of themselves to their crafts. at the end of the day, she wondered if every one of them felt as detached to the whole work as they wanted to be. in order to compose their own lives. somehow. if they could let go in order to do so. 

as for a favorite. a hum, a spoon already giving a taste of the half gobbled down yogurt in her hand. settled only for her to get to her phone, there wasn’t a second thought given to this and it didn’t surprise her one bit. 

msg : portrait is one of my favorites high on the list  msg : i love the transition between that and the next track too  msg : basically, i love the next track too codex gigas  msg : though ... it made me think of an anime, the title of it 

a lapse in time. a dozen shoes stocked away later. the dip of her mattress and her legs crossed under her weight.

msg : whisked away you make it sound like some rapunzel’s plot 🤣 msg : it was, strange. in a good way. it made me think of where exactly i stand right now.  msg : like a time travel.  msg : they’re both like nests to me, one has given birth to me, the other has seen me bloom in order to return me to where i first originated with enough strength to tell me i could do what i set myself to do. something like that. 

something as simple and yet poignant as that? yeah, she supposed it was. 

[osseuses]

innersanctvm‌:

It was still early and the night had just begun, but Kyungsook saw herself drunk enough, sad enough, to not want indulge the rest of the cast with another round of drinks. They had a celebration, her celebration, and yet she feels there is nothing to celebrate at all - what she has achieved would never make up for what she lost in her way, and the static voice calling her a cold bitch through the phone rings way too loud in the middle the cacophony of voices in her head. 

So she gets in a cab, the first she sees, and just tells the man to drive away, unsure of where she would go, where she wanted to go. The driver is only so happy to indulge her, the money he would make on a trip without a set aim being too tempting to let go of the opportunity the ballerina is giving him.

Before he can take off, however, a second woman comes inside the car, not noticing her leaning on the window on the other side of the back seat and she’s amused when her stare shifts to her newfound companion. The woman had a familiar face, one she probably saw before, in passing, maybe on tv or on the streets, Kyungsook didn’t think much of it. Because she thought that was it. Because she thought that, as soon as she noticed her presence in the car, she would leave and find another ride.

But the stranger sounds desperate enough when she tries to explain her situation, pleading Kyungsook to just share, and the ballerina offers the stranger a practiced smile in response, one that shows her dimples, but doesn’t reach her eyes - her stage smile. “Just tell him where you want to go,” she says, her voice sounds inebriated, even when she tries to sober up as she fixes her posture. “I still don’t know where to go, anyway, but I also don’t feel like staying.”

"Uh." No context, no follow ups, a simple sound as she regarded her companion more thoroughly. Daire was however not about to look a golden opportunity in its godammn mouth, she'd take it with as much fervour as she did everything else. What came from her mouth later on, as she settled against the car's back seat, made herself at ease. Eased her hands in her pockets and gingerly resumed to forget about the media and their crazy employees was the name of her favorite bar. 

Might as well enjoy the ride and let it lead somewhere worth it. 

"That sentence was right out of a 'how to be deep on the surface 101' book by the way, I'm sure--somewhere in the world, it's already been created. There's no way there's that many of you out there without an how to guide." 

By that many of you, she was lumping Devon right into it. The girl had sounded exactly like his own drawl right before coming down the high as a kite feeling he was always prone to seeking. The idea was there for a fleeting second, then it was persistent as she turned to look at the person sitting next to her.

"You smoke pot too?" 

There would be no judgement given if she did, it was a common thing. Some country had recently legalized it too, things were apparently improving. At least for the lightly addicted to drug substances. But weed wasn't just any drugs, it was healthy, helped with inspiration, made the world better, had no damages. Couldn't get you addicted. Even if you can't go without it to feel that high either way. Daire was sure she was mentally missing some other reasons as to why it was so sought out. 

It all sounded exactly like her own excuses for the fact that she still wasn't quitting her smoking habits. Aside from the healthy part--but everything else stuck fiercely and she'd fight her way through that argument if it was to occur.

[osseuses]

yemi plot call

some plots i’d love to fill out for yemi. 

the lovely sugar baby  muse, yemi, who of course doesn’t scream it to the world, only one person truly knows what that entitles for her and the man who takes care of her. which that’s a plot. the best friend/confident plot. ( female only / same age range )

then we have the son of the sugar daddy of hers, who she dated without knowing he was the son of the man in question and when the son figured their relationship–which, he literally misunderstood for a physically sexual kind–you know things went south. but it was her first love. ( male only / not more than two years younger if younger / same age / not older than two years if older )

on top of those, falling into the dating slot. she’s never ‘truly’ gone out with anyone prior to him simply because her sugar daddy is very possessive and would watch her every moves without her knowledge. to this day she has no idea why most of the guys she thought were into her and she was into them as well, left without much of an explanation. to this day she thinks all those guys–which we can count all the way to five who she was serious about through the years–showed interest then seemed to vanish the moment she was starting to catch feelings. those are open plots to five muses. almost exes. ( male only / same age range / older not more than five years over )

additionally one of them could come back in her life and try to show her that the man she’s trusting isn’t all that he makes himself out to be and was the reason why he left and we could have some development on that side. because right now she doesn’t need the money he gives her, she’s only with him due to one : dependence and two : thinking he’s the only one who’s ever stood by her side and never left her. which is true, but he’s manipulated her world for her to think that way. so that’s one more plot, the eye opener, sort of. ( male only / older younger but not more than five years over or under / same age range )

if any of these interest you, just hmu! / i could potentially take a plot for the sugar daddy too but it’s not a sexual plot at all and i will be highly selective with it. but i am down to discuss it if it interests someone. 

[osseuses]

haeri plot call

yes they can still be done 

gaming soulbuddy ( open to anyone / same age range )

just give me someone she’s never met aside from gaming online with them. the raiding, dungeons, the tanking, farming for each other’s etc. she usually plays as a tanker so she gathers a lot of healers/mages, she isn’t part of a guild either when it comes to her gaming style. she likes to mingle everywhere but stay solo, hence why she went tanker. but one knows that mmorpg is more fun when there’s more people to share the world with. 

could be someone she met ever since the first time she even joined the mmorpg community aka when she was literally only 16 years old in high school, all the way back to england. they started with aliases/nicknames/ but by the time of now they of course know who each of them are name wise and snippets of what they wish to share of their lives wise. anyways i rambled and went off topic but just hmu and we’ll work it out

a hacker team/partner/mentor ( open to anyone / older than her or same age range or younger / doesn’t matter )

she does this for fun of course and rarely ever deals with it now. but someone she learned with, or even learned from. could be a mentor who’s wondering if she’s wasting her skills and will hit her up once in awhile to get her to do something for him or brainstorm on how to get behind some security system with her for some information his contractors may want to reach. t

hey can be the type to meet and have seen each other’s face, but it’s always only for a brief moment and never happens twice in the span of three months. the other partner ( s ) could be deeply involved in the field, doesn’t matter. haeri doesn’t ask questions and it’s one of the reasons why they know they can confide in her with some requests even though she’s not fully part of their team/circle. 

fellow visual artist ( open to anyone / younger or older ) 

just someone who she can discuss the struggle of inspiration and style and finding the right time to work on a painting and go into their studio and feel like a normal person for the mess she finds herself in when she’s in the ‘zone’. but also help them clean up when that little bubble doesn’t need to be kept up and has popped and it’s time to make the working place look like a neat artist needs it to be in order to create their mess. 

possibly someone she met at one of her first exposition/exhibition and they were also freshly coming out and that was a common ground that they immediately connected on and it’s been smooth sailing since then. kind of. they can also be working on a collaboration art show just for fun. i just really want painting artists buddy having fun with the way they express themselves. 

[osseuses]

he would get to love her. // @tuwam ( ft. minsoo & hanna )

in a way that he would have never dreamed of falling before. he was going to love her with his fingers, sometimes in wanting to slide through her hair.

maybe undo a bun, make it a mess with his touch. with a touch to her neck, a curl of them around her throat and the sight of her sighing against his palm.

leaning into his touch.

with his mouth and his breath, they will linger. they will leave traces that will not find a way to be replaced. maybe with little dents of his teeth along her skin.

especially on that expanse of skin at the back of her neck. because he was going to love holding her against him, her back pressed to his front and his arms around her.

the weight of her body firm, the height of her allowing him to rest his chin atop of her head. finding comfort in the simple act of holding her as such.

content with her existence.

with his words, maybe not as often as with his actions. but there would be those moments where minsoo would speak to her in a way that they would both recognize as new. as tender. as gentle. as fond. as different from how he used to speak.

given even the grunting familiarity of his speech might even be split in with more care than before. the snark will be softened. the edges of them melting into her smile, her gaze.

with his words, he might not often show but when he will, minsoo will find it pleasing to watch her color under the choices of them. whether he will find it surprising that what he told her could warrant such a reaction or not, he will learn to know it then.

happy with the unexpected.

the most important thing he was going to use, was his time. not just the one that the clock ticks with and makes you wish in a rush that you had more. but the one that he'd never thought belonged to anyone else but himself.

it will be the selfish time. that moment where solitude was mostly sought. he will sit and try to find her to share that quietude. to know that he will want her there, it will solidify his belief that she'd been meant for the happy hour. but sober.

minsoo was going to love hanna, with all the time in the world he'd given himself. the stolen, the taken, the given. the furtive. the lasting.

but for now. for now, ignorance was lingering in the yearning of his gaze trying to understand. why the need to care of her, had made him invite hanna in his apartment.

a raw moment of worry for the events that had transpired and minsoo was here. in his kitchen. watching her check the list of homework left to be completed. it almost felt like a normal session.

in this shelter though, the invite of guests was not usual.

for now minsoo didn't understand yet, that his time was splitting itself to fit her in, in a way that he would then seek more than analyze.

but he would.

[osseuses]

tuwam‌:

while he may not doubt. hanna couldn’t strike the doubt that’d been clinging to her these past few minutes. hell weeks. months. doubt that’s a little stronger than she’s used to. born into believing whatever pathway her father had laid out for her, she never looked the other way, never considered. all the words people would put against her, small, frail, innocent, soft. she would fight back. prove herself worthy of the title he couldn’t wait to bestow her with. with the task she was destined to hold.

it seemed that way. destiny, fate. seemed that if the path was lined in all things dangerous and blood-written, she could do it no problem. for hanna, she didn’t have the option of not doing it. not like her mother. so she accepted ad she persevered. as she should have, as she made her father proud and made herself crush and mold and power through.

until the crown fit and her father was satisfied.

as she was younger it was a bit easier to fit, to slide into the spaces without a problem. to not think and to listen to all he’d told her. all the lessons, the cold metal against her palm, the feeling of callouses as her palm began to firm and tighten around the weapon. as she began to know it. but as she’d gained freedom, tasted something other than ice and death, she began to yearn. as hanna grew she began to seek other things - why shouldn’t she. she began to break the mold.

she began to feel like less than she’d been made for. unsuitable. 

though her father didn’t say it, though no one really thought it. she felt it. she felt herself slipping from all she thought she could be. all she thought she had to be. and with nothing else to fit in she was losing herself. losing it all. her father’s hand on her shoulder. the people behind her, loyalty and pride. this image she’d built it. the further it got the worse she felt, the smaller she felt. so small that she felt herself caving in.

and though - though minsoo might not doubt her much. she had enough to fill the space. enough choked sobs to fill the space between them, between her cheek and the phone.

“a weak 2.”

between whispered defeats and her arm covering her eyes.

“i don’t believe it at all.”

"to have doubt is human." 

it was one of those things that shaped up everything we believed in, everything we fought for and those who fought to not have in our lives. to have doubts made us make decisions carefully or carelessly. recklessness came from wanting to outdo all those suspicions that arise from certain things we wish to have. 

recklessness was a result of the rebellion that sprung forward when the mind warned but the rest of our emotions wanted to drag us to what we feel, we think, we know, we need, we wish. 

then again the question came forward as to did hanna even realize that she was merely just a girl living a life? would this be awakening of that fragile existence and the consequences of it, if it was, would they be dire. 

to spring out of ignorance, out of a hardened strength could lead to many outcomes. so many options. his father had chosen alcohol, his mother had picked abandonment and minsoo had never been given a way to pick his own.

he'd chosen to live the consequences of other's realities. it didn't matter that much now, but it'd done his fair share of damage then. in fact, then, he'd have told her to figure it out on her own. so what was minsoo doing sitting here and listening to her talk to him about whatever was plaguing her mind without so much as a offhanded feeling slipping past his interest? he wasn't sure, but he was here. 

he was here, he was listening to hanna--because he wanted to be here, listening to her. it was but a second of realization and it had him sighing into the line and moving about his apartment to get himself dressed, "where are you?"

this was the thing with care, it never let you be blissfully unaware. 

whether it be the broken sounds in her words, or the unmissable sound akin to a sob, more than one, more than just a few. or just the fact that she was by herself, undoing everything that she might have found was her solid foundation once. 

whatever it was, minsoo felt compelled to do more than witness it through a phone call.

[osseuses]

maginoire‌:

The mention of a personal chauffeur had been the real reason Ara had forced herself out of the comforts of her bed on the day of Saint Valentine. The woman was swayed by men who had the ability to pamper her, and clearly this Tinder match fell into that category. With blonde tresses pulled back into a haphazard bun, she sat herself down in front of her vanity mirror to begin painting her make up onto a freshly washed face. Although she had told him it would take her an hour and a half, it would truly only take her an hour to look her absolute best. With her hair already curled from business earlier that day, she had given herself the thirty minute wiggle room to make any last minute changes.

The screen of her phone lit up just as she had begun working on the dark stroke of liner to adorn her eyelids. Grin graced her features as manicured fingers worked their way across the screen to respond in a timely manner. Not too quick as to make him believe she would go on a date with just anyone – although, that may not have been a lie on Valentine’s Day. But not too slow for him to think she was no longer interested. 

⊱ ok fine but i assure you my customer service team is always at the ready!!! ⊱ nothing but the best 🥰 ⊱ so then that brings up the question of: how many girls have vip passes? ⊱ cant wait to see that then 😘 ⊱ i will proudly tell them my truly royal title!

With eagerness in each step, she hummed to herself as she sculpted her face to perfection. Once she was pleased with how she looked, she glanced at the clock to make sure she would be on time for the sake of her own word. It didn’t take long for her to decide on a dress, one she had bought prior to snagging herself a date in the first place. Pretty in pink, the dress hugged her curves enough to draw attention but never too much to seem inappropriate. After a few twirls in her floor length mirror, accompanied by clicks of her camera to garner approval from her closest friends, she was ready. 

Part of her assumed he was lying about the fancy car. Another part of her was excited to see what would present itself to her. However, the sight of the car had her awestruck. The expression that contorted her features was enough to cause the driver to give her a look of concern as she approached the vehicle. Clearing her throat, she decided to play along with his little game. “Hi, I’m Ara – or the princess herself, as Insoo likes to call it.” An airy laugh followed by her habit of tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. When helped into the car, she offers a humble thanks before getting herself comfortable in the plush seats of the luxury vehicle, palms feeling the material under her for a moment before she went back to messaging him. 

⊱ sorry that took so long, but in the car now! ⊱ i still cant believe you actually got a bugatti to pick me up 😭 ⊱ i don’t know if i should thank you or be concerned about how you have all this money 😰

He was being ridiculous, happy to please as he felt, he still knew this. Anyone would attest to this if they were to witness the actions that were being brought forward for this night. But that was the whole point, to do the utmost for no other reasons than because he could do it. 

Insoo had that tendency to claim without hesitating, if it can be done, it should be done. Unless one was speaking of murder--but even then, why not? Wasn't life about doing what we wished to do. Of course certain things would be more so wrongly seen than others.

Love had that effect to. Love, courting, the whole aspect of it was so downtalked lately, he found it a bit saddening. What could be so wrong with giving the illusion of it, whether for a minute, an hour or a forever that could arrange the involved party? The main point was to enjoy it and not forget to let go when things stopped looking brighter on this side of the world. 

Tonight was not gloomy however, it was valentine's day. 

Insoo wouldn't call this a ritual, he'd done this five years ago the first time. Barely into his twenties, boredom striking when the sun set its light and with his roommate closing the door behind him with the excuse that he had a date. Insoo hadn't had one. In fact, Insoo had been in a place in his life where he'd forever banned the concept and idea--for some reasons that he found more ridiculous than what he was doing tonight.

Last year hadn't given, so maybe that was why he was pulling all the cards this year. Or it can just be the way this newfound company made it seem so effortlessly enjoyable. Either way--the excitement wasn't just dictated now, it was palpable.

msg : be concerned with all this money msg : i can't count on my fingers how many people i had to kill for this msg : the answer is 0 if you're curious, that's how good i am at this

Seated behind the wheel of his car, only responding to her text messages because he'd found the front of the restaurant and was now ready to exit and leave his keys to the valet at the front. It was with more than a little distracting touch to his voice that he thanked him for the service and let his keys be taken from his grip. 

msg : I'll be waiting inside, you'll find your way right? msg : Ask for the reservation under my name msg : Lee Insoo msg : send me some pictures of the view from that lovely backseat 😉

He honestly had debated whether to just wait her outside instead, but there were a few things he wanted to fix before they got to the top where he'd managed to snatch a reservation. Very last minute, very rushed. It didn't mean that he'd let it be any less perfect to his image. Insoo was more worried about the overall aspect of the surprise than he was about the cost of the last minute team they'd had to put together to pull the whole trick.

It'd be worth it though. He'd joked about worth with her through their conversation, but there was a thing to admit and that was--it'd been worth it from the first message he'd received.

[osseuses]

grmrper‌:

The library, row after row of books with erect spines standing proud in a declaration of what they carry, and what feels like miles of shelves stand in glory. This is a place Haru can call home, this is a place his soul can find solitude. Even he quivers under the humbling magnitude of human knowledge.

And in between busy students and proud books, he sees red lips and fast fingers. Determined, that’s what she looks like to him. 

She walks. 

He follows. 

And between them a shelf disguises him.

He watches her carefully and finds her all the more fascinating. She looks unbothered and bothered simultaneously, or perhaps, it is just Haru’s inability to read her.

And finally, his disguise finds an end, the two of them stand, face to face. His heart makes a jump, and startled, he lets his books fall to the ground. But Haru is not phased by this. Instead, he stares into her eyes. They are attention-grabbing, but not entirely present.

He has been caught, red-handed.

This was an old habit, being awakened.

In every steps she was taking along the hall of the library, wondering if it'd ever known that she could return to it as easily as she felt herself fall back in its opened embrace. Iseul's always going to be in the back of her mind, in a nest close to her heart, or maybe encrusted in every particles of it as little reminder of what was new.

This was familiar, but nostalgic. 

It was strange, its uncanny feeling seemed to draw more foreign circumstances. In the man standing and facing her, the footsteps she'd felt going along with hers. But assumptions that they were purposeful in their pursuit hadn't wanted to pass her mind.

Yet she was looking up and Hyomi was blinking, at the sound of falling items, at the situation. Her arms rose, hands enclosing her elbows as they crossed, instinctively protective. The way she'd held her son many times during his first year, trying to understand how she could cocoon him. How he couldn't slip past these frail hands of hers.

"Can I help you?" Could she though? "I don't work here if that was your reason for following me." 

Seemed logical that one would assume such a thing of her or anyone else walking around, the librarians themselves weren't easy to discern. If one didn't pay attention to the ID card around their neck.

[osseuses]

consilian‌:

he wonders what he must have done in another life time to be constantly dragged into situations such as this one. it reminds him of yunseo’s eighteenth birthday party and how he had ended up spending the entire night practically chained to the toilet after his first (forced) experience of taking shots.

peer pressure is, for that exact reason, something that usually doesn’t sit well with him. but on the other hand, can this really be applied to the current situation? it’s not like insoo used physical force to get jaehyun to be present this evening     he’d come here of his own free will, so what use is there in complaining?

in the back of his mind, yunseo’s voice urges him to at least try before shunning it. how else are you going to widen your horizon? which is why ultimately he ends up swallowing down whatever sort of protest had been beginning to build up inside of him and swaps it for a somewhat forced smile instead. how strange, how easily your appetite can cease to exist in a matter of moments. he supposes he’ll have to order another dish later.

“a dare?” and well, he has to admit he sort of admires insoo’s attitude. sitting here and dealing with someone as awkward as jaehyun (and make no mistake, he is aware of his seemingly unfitting behavior) deserves some sort of respect, although the younger isn’t sure if that’s the kind of praise he should be giving out whatsoever.

“uh.” so maybe agreeing to this hasn’t really been his best moment but he might as well now make the most of it. “ask the next waiter that comes over for a happy meal.”

“a happy meal?” even for insoo himself, it took him a while to work the words and understand what they meant--not quite fully though. since it took racking his memory for wherever he’d heard it before because it was not familiar to his ears. a lot of things had been like that growing up, hadn’t they? 

most of what he found usual would often times be foreign to most and what others found to be common would be blatantly strange or fascinating to him. he wasn’t shy about the fact that he’d been sheltered from a lot of things in his life. it just came with the whole golden cage aspect of the wealth and status his father held. 

“don’t even think i had that as a kid,” he picked his glass of water, took a gulp and had this hiss as if it’d given him the required strength to go through a thousands mountains. it was just a happy meal request though, nothing to be excited about. but he suddenly was, in the strangest of ways, insoo was even looking forward to this dare. given fact in the way his fingers were eager to ring for the waiter, the little bell sound echoing in the room and time barely ticking by before the door to their private booth slid open. 

insoo had a smile as ready as he’d worn it for the entirety of their orders taking, it was a different server though. a male, middle aged perhaps. with enough luck he had kids who’d asked for it before and he would understand what the words tumbling out of insoo’s mouth meant. with enough luck. considering the calibre of the place itself.

“do you have any happy meals?” 

the man had a blink for insoo’s request. insoo had a breath to purse his mouth around his smile. honestly the whole thing lasted maybe a second or two, and insoo was no mind reader but he could tell what was going around on the man’s face right before he schooled his expression, lost the frown, the disbelief and straightened.

“we can arrange that for you right away.” those words meant a lot of things, but mainly insoo knew one thing out of it. they definitely did not serve happy meals but they would arrange for one to be given. “anything specific you’d want in your package, sir?” 

“oh, right, i am not sure,” he’d done his dare right? he definitely had, duty fulfilled and completed and insoo turned to jaehyun with a quirk of his eyebrows. “jaehyun-ah, what do you get in a typical happy meal?” 

[osseuses]

tuwam‌:

msg: wah the fact that you’re choosing to sit down and spend the day with my album is better than any launching party so thank you msg: however msg: you went all the way to texas for one of the biggest music festivals without so much as a picture for me msg: so who’s really  😔 😔 😔 😔 😔 😔 😔

not him. in fact he feels a shred of pride that he knows he can’t really claim, knowing she was able to experience such an event, and then knowing she’s chosen to still give his album a listen. if the launch party wasn’t enough of a blessing to his recent decision, than the support from his friends and colleagues alike was overwhelming. overwhelming but welcomed because he’s feeling a little giddy, a little playful as he types back, the soft melody of his recent projects pouring into the background. it’s what his days have been full of and he’s not complaining in the least.

msg : is that so? 🙊🙈  msg : no thank you for the magic ✨🎶 msg : i am glad i get to be a part of it one way or another! msg : the long most anticipated album of the year!!

a bit of laughter spilled, not for the previous statement. that had been with utmost honesty, mostly for the one where blamed was jokingly being shifted from him to her. her answers were sent in between shifting through her closet, organizing and taking a walk to the kitchen to get the kettle going, yearning for a warm drink. 

msg : we can go to texas, you want to go? let’s pack!! msg : as long as you travel light.

wishful thinking at its finest, chungha had the resolute certainty that this freedom was something she missed but cherished. she knew it. the ability to say and do at the same time. without the ties that bound her to the role she had to play most of the times, to the responsibilities that lay ahead and that she couldn’t leave behind. didn’t want to leave behind. but it wasn’t a prison, just careful waters to swim through. 

msg : when’s the last time you truly had a vacation i wonder? 

[mammamias]

send me a ship and i’ll tell you

who hogs the duvet

who texts/rings to check how their day is going

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts

who gets up first in the morning

who suggests new things in bed

who cries at movies

who gives unprompted massages

who fusses over the other when they’re sick

who gets jealous easiest

who has the most embarrassing taste in music

who collects something unusual

who takes the longest to get ready

who is the most tidy and organised

who gets most excited about the holidays

who is the big spoon/little spoon

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports

who starts the most arguments

who suggests that they buy a pet

what couple traditions they have

what tv shows they watch together

what other couple they hang out with

how they spend time together as a couple

who made the first move

who brings flowers home

who is the best cook

[osseuses]

@tuwam ( that yongha thread you didn’t ask for but have it anyways )

msg : congratulations on the album ~ yongguk-oppa  msg : i am now going to be streaming it one song at a time msg : since i wasn’t invited to the launching party 😔 i am doing my own!

& absolutely not being petty over the matter, no matter what her message might be conveying right now. or maybe just a little. but not enough to be taken seriously. diverse schedule and barely any time to even be able to properly chat him up live, hell, wasn’t that why the letters had started to begin with? a small smile and she was quick to start doing what she’d planned for the day. a whole day to herself. a lot of catching up in her personal space first, those letters, and as she’d mentioned, a whole album to work through.