Canât sleep, Iâm wasted, wasted Canât stand still, Iâm shaking over you

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@stephhwang
Canât sleep, Iâm wasted, wasted Canât stand still, Iâm shaking over you
Let's do a weird headcanon thing.
1. What they smell like: Sheâs very selective when it comes to fragrance â perfume, lotion, cleansers, candles, incense. When it comes to personal fragrances such as perfume, she tends to choose those with either subtle floral notes or  clean/crisp notes. Any of the âclassicâ scents (such as Chanel No. 5) give her a raging migraine. As for her home and office, she favors natural scents like freesia, peony, bergamot, lavender, verbena, etc.
2. How they sleep (sleeping position, schedule, etc): She usually sleeps on her back or her left side, rarely does she sleep facing down in fear of the pressure put on her face (to prevent wrinkles and swelling) and waking up with a stiff neck. Due to her work schedule, and the traveling she does, itâs difficult to set a sleep schedule. Besides dealing with jet lag often, she also suffers from moderate insomnia. All of which contribute to her spotty sleep pattern.
3. What music they enjoy: Many genres of music fill her playlists, but she does favor a few. At any given moment sheâd chose indie rock, alternative rock, pop, r & b, hip hop, edm, and ocassionally kpop. Some of her favorite artists include: Beyonce, Drake, Artic Monkeys, The 1975, Maroon 5, Cage the Elephant, The Killers, Kings of Leon, John Legend, Â Rain, Mary J Blige, Deorro, Kygo, Duke Dumont, R3hab, Shaun Frank.
4. How much time they spend getting ready every morning:Â If she has the time to spare in the morning it could take anywhere between thirty minutes to an hour getting ready. However, there are times she canât help but hit the snooze button and this results in her waking up late. Sheâs mastered the art of the effortless boho chic look for the days sheâs running late. Itâs a whole different level on the days she has an event to attend, though. She'll deal with her wardrobe, but will leave hair and makeup to her stylist to be photo ready.
5. Their favorite thing to collect: Without a doubt, Stephanie loves collecting shoes. Any of her close friends will agree that her shoe collection is impressive, and somewhat borderline unhealthy in some ways. Thereâs an entire wall in her walk-in closet dedicated to housing most of her shoes. A few pairs she considers display worthy are on shelves in her room.
6. Left or right-handed:Â Right handed, but she has taught herself to use her left hand after fracturing her right wrist back in middle school.
7. Religion (if any):Â Her parents shared the Christian faith with her growing up, but she doesnât practice any religion as an adult.
8. Favorite sport: Sheâs not very keen on participating in or watching many sports. Ocassionally she attends baseball games with friends, and often plays golf or tennis out of compromise with business partners. Her only physical activity by choice is cardio five days a week. Prescribed to her for countering the moderate insomnia she suffers.
9. Favorite touristy thing to do when traveling: Taking lots of pictures to document her trip. Sheâs fairly active on social media and shares most of her pictures/videos on Snapchat, Instagram, and Twitter.
10. Favorite kind of weather: Growing up in California sheâs had favorable weather nearly all year around, making it hard to chose a season. Since moving to Korea though, she enjoys Autumn and Spring the most. Coincidentally, those are also peak seasons for fashion designers.
11. A weird/obscure fear they have: Perhaps not actually a fear, but she finds being around children a bit unsettling. More specifically infants and toddlers. That age group marks some of the most crucial years of development for children and is also when theyâre most fragile. She has very little experience with  children in general.Â
12. The carnival/arcade game they always win without fail:Â âThe claaawww~â Claw machines are her favorite and she has a lot of practice winning prizes.
r u n .
kyungsoomd
r u n .
The constant squeaking of Kyungsooâs heavy footsteps against the hallâs newly polished floors brought about an echoing alarm to anyone from afar, a cue for every patient and staff member walking along to step away and pave a passable path to the nearest exit like a fire truck would. He could feel his heart pounding over his shirt as his adrenaline fueled him in this sprint, making a mad dash with comical hindrances such as jumping over used oxygen tanks from the stock room and resembling a human pinball with the way he hit almost every single elderly woman waiting for their turn outside a geriatric specialistâs office. There was virtually nothing that could stop him this time, not when he could say with conviction that she was certainly within his reach.
His feet have led him to an open space, the middle from three different halls branching out to each side of the hospital. At this point, he could hear the ringing in his ears and the fatigue letting its bearing be felt on his ragged breaths. All the running made his head spin, causing him to temporarily forget the right route. The envelope was slowly getting crumpled from the way he held it in the middle, leaving a crease the size of his thumb. Apprehension grew evident as he stood there for a few seconds, contemplating which side to take to meet her halfway. With a blatant curse, he ran towards what his gut screamed for, and it was the hall on the left.
And my, was he ever so right with that. Because as he skidded across, he arrives at his final destination, seemingly unnoticed and disconnected with what reality was shoving at his face now. It was her. Stephanie Hwang, head tilted to reveal her side profile, as youthful as he remembered her, with the aesthetic falling of papers around her like confetti. It was that split-second frame that fate allowed him to see, the relief that his senses were correct in assuming this time, but it was also that split-second frame that shattered him, gluing his feet to the ground temporarily, in fear of whatâs to come. Yes, he may have pictured this moment in his head a dozen times, where heâd storm off to her and offer a piece of his mind. Or one where he would intentionally ignore her, walk past like she ceased to exist the moment she stopped appearing in his life.
None of those materialized since the moment he laid his eyes on her.
His mouth ran dry and his legs went weak, wishing they didnât exert as much effort to get there and wanting to drag themselves out from the lack of response from he who commanded them to stay put. Refusing his dread to get the best of him, Kyungsoo took small steps, while he watched her gather those papers whilst on her knees. It was too late when it came to his attention that he walked too fast and too eager, until one long step was left before heâd reach her visionâs scope to reveal himself.
âLooking for something?â The silence breaks, waiting to snap the woman from her daze. He bit on his inner cheek as he stood there, beads of sweat threatening to trickle down on his temples with the envelope now disfigured to a different shape, but with the unread letter still intact.
âMaybe I can help.â
The background noise of the crowded, hectic hospital was not nearly enough to drown out the tone of the familiar voice that resonated in Stephanieâs ears. She froze, even more so frozen than she was already if it were humanly possible. Her gaze stay fixated on the automatic glass doors a few meters ahead, the exit she had so frantically been searching for, her only means of escape from the individual beside her. She didnât need to turn around and face the other to confirm what she already knew. That low tremble of a voice was embedded into her memories from the countless conversations held between the two, and although it had been months since sheâd last heard his voice it made no difference. Time could not erase how she remembered the tone of his vocals, the details of his visage, and the image of his person in its entirety.Â
It took a moment for her to realize she was just standing there, motionless. Awkwardly. And her body was unresponsive to her mental commands to move, speak, even blink. If it werenât for her bodyâs natural rythm she might have forgotten to breathe as well. Not that her shallow, quickened respiration at the moment was any better than not breathing altogether.Â
Move. Speak. Do not run away.Â
What seemed like an eternity and a minute went on before she came out of the daze she was in, finally turning calmly to face the estranged friend beside her. Do Kyungsoo, seemingly untouched by the hands of time in all his familiar splendor. The corners of her rosy lips pulled upwards into a smile, her eyes narrowing on command into her usual âeye smileâ as otherâs called it. Â
â No, Iâm not looking for anything. Iâm just passing through. Thereâs an exit right there. Thatâs what I was looking for and now I found it, so I donât need any help. Iâm surprised to see you here at the hospital. I mean, not really because youâre a doctor and doctors work in hospitals and this is a hospital... â Her voice trailed off slowly as she fixed her gaze on the disfigured envelope in his hand. Without a doubt, the motive behind his appearance.Â
â Help me look for my dignity. â She intoned, as humoursly as she possibly could after her idiotic rant. Her shoulders slumped slightly and the smile sheâd managed to plaster on dissappeared. She hadnât thought this through enough. Well, she had gone through various scenarios all in her head of the moment she would encounter Kyungsoo. None of which resulted in him being so calm and composed when they ran into each other again.Â
It almost seemed unfair how unbothered he appeared to be in front of her. She was having difficutly reading him, and it was rattling her within. She deserved to be recieved with a much colder attitude, questioned for her sudden dissapperance, and doubted for the sincerity behind her return. Yet, none of the above was being carried out. In every scenario she had imagined they all ended with him walking past and ignoring her without as much as a glance in her direction.Â
â Iâm sorry â I shouldnât have showed up like this and given you that letter, pretending everything is alright and that I didnât do anything wrong dissappearing the way I did. â She sighed, stopping herself before another rant. All the scrambled thoughts in her head threatened to spill from her mouth if she said another word.
The thing Iâm most afraid of is me. Of not knowing what Iâm going to do. Of not knowing what Iâm doing right now.
1Q84, Haruki Murakami, pg 294 (via oneqeightyfour)
r u n .
A paper would never be misplaced in the hands of Do Kyungsoo, the elder residents would say. It would never be ignored, for he was the type to go about, to check and recheck as though his conscience wouldnât rest and the fall of humanity was at stake if he was unable to sort them. He was that type of an obsessive compulsive when it came to work, to matters of significance in the line he wanted to pursue. He was aiming for a seat at the executive board, aiming for the tenure and the privileges because he had every right to receive them. For as long as he could remember, his service to the hospital was sufficient to be granted of it, but unfortunately, it wasnât brought up in the meetings just yet. He was waiting for that final push to ask, or to be bold enough to quit and start elsewhere. To be bold enough to handle it on his own.
So when he was informed of a meeting to be held, three halls to the left of one floor above his, he immediately confirmed his attendance in it. It was two hours away, the clock ticking as fast as his pulse was, finding the minutes to arrive surprisingly slow this time around. Why does the waiting game have to play tricks with oneâs head? Like it slows down just when itâs badly needed it to be the opposite? He paced back and forth, keeping his hands busy in the hopes of âlosing track of timeâ until the hourglass has finished its last drop. But time was swindling serpent, robbing him of that hope when after visiting three patients and even having a lengthy chat with the E.R. personnel, 45 minutes was all he managed to kill.
With squeaky steps (because of the worst piece of shoes he has ever purchased by far in this lifetime), he stood in front of his office, the white coat draped over his shoulder as he began unbuttoning his cuffs. âAny news for me today?â He aimlessly calls out to any nurse that was hopefully not ignoring him being busy with the noon shift for orders of TPNs to administer. Luckily, one was headed his way, handing over an envelope in his then open palm. âWhatâs this,â he asked, discarding the coat altogether since the load was getting heavy with one arm straining from it. The nurse barely gives an audible explanation as to who gave it, but what was clear was the sender left just minutes after he arrived.
âThe Doctorâ, it read in cursive script, and while the penmanship was neat, his thoughts were not. They were scattered, as the greeting was enough to make him lose some stability on his feet, stepping sideways to lean against the doorâs frame for support. H o w ? Why? And why now? Now, of all times? Of all days? Stubborn as she similarly was, the letter was barely read since he focused on the signature and the signature alone. His eyes ran over the line again and again, reassuring himself that it wasnât that BenadrylÂź he took in the morning showing him spurs of colorful sedation. The mere fact that she responded to his letter spoke volumes, drowning him back into the vortex he thought he had escaped from, and only then did it dawn upon him.
The sender left just minutes after he arrived.
The sender left just minutes after he arrived.
           One more time.
The.Â
   Sender.Â
       Left.Â
     Just.     Minutes.Â
             After.   He.    Arrived.
   ⻠â«
He may have wasted a couple more thanks to his foolish redundancy, but he refused to permit another dissipate without him doing something.
               A n y t h i n g .
Without looking back, envelope at hand, he scrambled off to the elevator, reminding himself to remember every single emergency evacuation orientation he had attended so he could reach the exit, to be right on time for these things for once.
Time is the longest distance between two places.
Tennessee Williams, The Glass Menagerie (via feellng)
First love, never forgotten.
Still by The Japanese House; produced by Matty Healy and George Daniel of The 1975
My desires in a relationship have changed over time. I no longer want someone who promises to always love me and never leave me, I need someone who understands that life happens and sometimes things donât work out. I donât want someone who sugar coats things and never gets angry with me, I need someone to tell me how it really is and put me in my place. I need to be able to go five hours without talking to you and not feel lost or incomplete. I am complete without you. But with you, I want to be so much better. I want to be stronger with you. I want us to grow together and help each other grow individually. I donât need you, but I really fucking want you. And this may not work out, but the fact that you understand all of this and this how our relationship works, makes me think weâve got a pretty good shot.
(via teapenny)
Strawberry Swing by Coldplay
There were two of them now, and she was in no place to argue. A small crowd had already gathered where Jisoo seemingly looked the villain. Which in this case, she was! Had she not been so careless. The writer peered at her two prosecutors and something stood out about the smaller one. She was a beautiful woman - no taller than her own frame, but a contrast was clear between the designer and collegiate. She mustâve been the shop owner and heck, a refined one at that. If Jisoo knew of basic etiquette well this woman could teach her bound.
â âStep inside,â she says. A voice kinder than the first. Guilt suddenly took over from the unintentional act of theft. Jisoo was just dreaming, really, of a her that could come close to this woman who (despite being in front of her), seemed miles away from within reach.
Growing up in a boysâ orphanage had certainly led to the inevitable.
â I swear, Iâm not who you think I am. I just really liked how it looked and thought maybe, I could wear things like this tooâŠâ
She paused. Her eyes were somewhere else now. The floor, the shoes, whatever she could look at upon dropping her head to apologize. Shame replaced Jisoo altogether, as she flushed a shade of pink from having rambled without reason. Would they really believe her pathetic excuse for an anecdote? As always, imagining the worst had better ups to feigning hope.
» The whispers from the group of bystanders gathered around the shop slowly grew to a low murmur. Ignoring the small crowd, Stephanie ushered the shop attendant into the boutique and gestured gently for the younger female to follow along. It was the first time she'd dealt with any form of shoplifting. The shop attendants usually handled  these situations without her assistance. It seemed like this particular attendant lacked the ability to speak with tact, though. Additionally, she wanted to avoid bringing the authorities into her place of business for such a trivial matter.
â The mannequins in the front window need to be switched out. â She instructed firmly, making sure her tone left no room for discussion between the attendant and herself. Anything to keep the shop attendant busy so she could deal with the younger woman quietly.
â I believe you. You could have easily ran off with the blouse, but you didn't-- That blouse, by the way, would look fabulous on you. Did you try it on? â A gentle smile graced her features as she spoke, showing that she was in no way disconcerted.
The designer tried to make small talk to cut through the tense atmosphere between them. Judging by the way she avoided eye contact, it became apparent to Stephanie that the younger woman didn't have any malicious intentions. It was possible she was being too lenient on the other, but she couldn't think of a better way to handle the issue at hand.
"So is there a bet involved or were you in need of company? Truth be told, if I had not been so engrossed in my thoughts, Iâd have approached you too. Maybe. Okay, probably not, but I did get you to smile." Strangers immediately led to an awkward atmosphere, but with the little bit of alcohol in his system, Jiwon was more laid back than usual, chuckling along with her soft chimes of laughter. "So..do you come here oftenâ you know what, how about you tell me your story." With a nervous laugh, he sat back with his arms crossed over his chest, ordering another drink and gesturing to the bartender to add another for the miss.
"A bit of both, honestly. I'm not a fan of hanging around the same crowd for too long, and the bet gave me an excuse to wander. Hm, is that so? You did coax a smile out of me, I'll give you that." Admittedly, she didn't have trouble chatting up strangers. The influence of alcohol only enabled her ability to strike up conversations more so than usual. "How original-- Actually, I don't come here often. I'm not new around here, but I can't say I'm a local yet either." A soft chime of laughter left her rosy hued lips before she extended her right hand out to him. "Sorry, I haven't introduced myself properly. I'm Stephanie."Â
Take risks. If you win you will be happy; if you lose you will be wise.
Unknown (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
When you kiss me heaven sighs, and though I close my eyes I see La Vie En RoseÂ
collections that are raw as fuck â elie saab f/w 2014-15