#!sk

[dryrots]

baby, if i had a time machine i'd go back to 1983 maybe i would chill with basquiat i'd be out there playing make-believe i'd be in the streets of nyc sippin' lemonade likely 21st century me, 20th century dreams (x)

[dryrots]

how come you don't expect me to get mad when i'm angry? you've never seen it though i know i'm not the only one how come you don't respect me? expecting fantasies leave our reality, why don't you just sit down and (x)

[fcxjinri-blog]

{ ` stares unabashedly for a minute, gaze flicking between the face on the phone and the one hiding behind it. his voice takes a note of fondness, lips twitching upward before he reaches out to pull it down and meet her eyes. } god, you're silly. { ` mutters almost to himself } what are you doing?

( * she’s momentarily caught in a swoop of severe gladness; though she’d rather see han whole, she’s simply glad to see him, to hear him, to… her face takes on the closest it can to a smile; slightly swollen eye leaving the top half asymmetrical, wired mouth and numb lower lip only allowing her to lift her upper lip in the slightest, most amiable way possible. ) mm’wired and ip soun’s wurd.  an’ ‘en people er like— ( * swallows, fingers tapping around her lips just in case--dry. ish.  alrightalrightalrightalright-- ) — ‘at? ( * makes a face, deciding to type the rest ) “and then i hav e to repeat and repeatt and repeat adn it’s not moe at all TTT!!  anyways, how are you, pretty prince????  was teh ‘yah!’ a prologue to an order??” 

[fcxjinri-blog]

yah.

( * eyes widen, brows raise as she places a hand on her chest, as if to say, ‘me?’  a hand drops to her pocket and she pulls out her phone, typing before turning the screen to face him, her own eyes peeking over it’s edge— ) “yes, illustrious han of lu? (ↀДↀ)” 

[fcxjinri-blog]

[text] I just spent fifteen minutes trying to think of a joke to send you but I got nothin'.

( * better about replying this time around--meaning she replies almost immediately ) 

( txt ) (((((how about i pretend you did))))))

( txt ) eunkyangkyang oppa, that’s so dumb i could hit you!! (　´◔‸ゝლ`) don’t you know??

( txt ) steak jokes are a rare medium done well!! 

[fcxjinri-blog]

{ txt } jinri?

( * she’d felt it, the vibrating pulse of her phone, clenched all too tightly in cold fingers.  but time is strange, skipping and slowing and bizarre intervals for those haunted in wake, haunted in sleep; dully, she realises she probably should’ve sooner.  oops ) … ( * squints, searching ) 

( txt ) that’s me ༼•̀ɷ•́༽

[fcxjinri-blog]

[text] i found your hair on my sweater i hope you dont mind but I sniffed it

( * she clutches her phone like it’s the only thing that’s keeping from her sinking into oblivion, from falling to the ground and remaining weighted by grief that she can barely swallow.  the girl has made her father text her at timed intervals—at the moment, it was every thirty minutes at least, with her planning to request it becomes quarter of an hour the moment he touches ground in busan, which is supposedly soon.  soon—a dizzy, anxious, selfish anticipation stays with her as the minutes drag on.  when her phone buzzes, she brings it close to her face, shaking, always shaking—letting out a shuddering sigh as she sees it isn’t him.  is she relieved?

she doesn’t know. 

it takes long to respond to a text that seems so strangely misplaced in context with the context of the last few hours—her mind fumbles with his words and her own ) 

( txt ) it’s fine

( * it doesn’t matter.  nothing really does )