#arisaxmgh

[arisaxmgh-blog]

[arisaxmgh-blog]

| A video from an old photo shoot. 9.28.14

[arisaxmgh-blog]

“Am I wrong to miss you”

[ Self Para ] 

Arisa slowly dragged her fingers along the page of an blank page in her sketch book. It had been forever since the photography student had drawn, but recently with the arrival of her new muse, she found herself more inclined to glossing her pencil across the smooth surface, time and time again.

But. She hadn’t seen him for a few days.

His room door, nestled silently besides hers hadn’t been opened since perhaps four days ago. White locks failed to tower in her view through the hallways, and the wine beneath her bed has gone untouched.

She sighed at the thought.

Slim and supple fingers went to pick up the pencil besides her.

She wasn’t good at drawing from memory. All she could really recreate was the inviting smile he had, the smile that first came shy and awkward, and then natural and sweet.

She herself began to smile, the small curvature of his lips on the page calmed her a bit.

She ran her fingers across it, and then proceeded to gently close the book.

“What am I doing?” She laughs. Not in a self-loathing tone as one would expect, but in a much more softer, astonished manner.

But her laughter died out as she gazed at a certain picture frame that had fallen within her view.

She was smiling, as was the man whose lips were pressed against her cheek.

“Oppa…,” she mumbled.

Her heart sank.

“Mian Oppa…,” she said quietly and placed the sketch book back onto her bookshelf.

A voice whispered in her ear;“You are alone, Arisa.”

“No one can save you from this.”

“Promises were meant to be broken.”

“You were meant to be broken,” whispered the voice once more. Tears welled up and she weakly fell back onto her bed.

She gazed up at the light on the ceiling, her eyes blinding in pain.

“I am worthless,” Arisa said.

“You are,” Alissa smirked.

[jaexmgh-blog]

Lol you forgot to tag me. I see it now Though. I'll reply tomorrow ))

Do you track just ‘arisa’ or ‘arisaxmgh’, because I tagged ‘arisaxmgh’, I just assumed you tracked your url orz sorry!

[arisaxmgh-blog]

| Plots a.o 6/17

[ M ] Aliens : F / M : Yifan

Arisa was asked to be a nude model for a few art classes. XX is one of the people in said class. There is no communication between the two over the first few days, but when she is asked to stay a bit later as XX still hadn’t finished their project, she complies. They chat, and somehow she asks if she could draw him, having not drawn in years. He complies. And somehow, the porcelain skin they are viewing just for art becomes an object of desire instead. 

The Catcher in the Rye : F / M

An assignment from her rather quirky literature teacher. “Become pen-pals with another person from the school. You both will have a copy of the catcher and the Rye to read together, and comment about through your letters.”

Arisa is paired to be partners with you, in the beginning she signs her letters with a mere Y, but slowly they get along and open up a bit to each other, the book scattered on the sidelines of the budding friendship.

[ M ] Sakura Regret : F / M

The after affect of a drunken one night stand. Finding little pieces of the other, tucked away in her dorm room. As for the other, in their pockets and school bag. A number scribbled in lipstick on your back, and blurry images of nude bodies enter twined with each other left as evidence on your phone. The two must find each other and get their belongings back. An awkward conversation ensues. 

* Contains references to sexual content, but the actual sexual content is optional. *

Odd Eye : F / M  : Taemin

Another strange request from a teacher. This time, the photography teacher requests to find a muse. Either your muse choses Arisa or Vice Versa. Either way, they must follow their Muse around for a week taking pictures of them. Unfortunately, the other person finds out. How they react is to be plotted.

Without their knowledge.

| More to be added soon.

[junhoxmgh-blog]

【♛】THREE POINTS;

Lee Junho was an avid film student. Inevitably, that meant that the DSLR camera clutched tightly in his possession was one of the most cherished items to ever fall upon his tainted hands. The camera meant to him the uttermost brilliance and importance; it was the holder of his grades, after all. Even so, merely equipped with the camera gave the brunet a surge of power and reassurance of the future, his ambiguous ambition to be part of the widespread and most compelling industry in the near future if the military failed him: Entertainment. 

Naturally, any vermin that wrecked havoc upon one of the most important possessions that ever landed upon Junho would meet their untimely demise at the mere destruction of such object. To lose one of the brunet’s ornate rings or, in this case, to lay an unattractive scratch upon the thick lenses of his camera, one could only expect hell to rise in their wake.

In this scenario, it seemed as though a young girl would be the next to taste the bitterness of Junho’s fury. A hazy summer afternoon, it was the peak of the day as many students buzzed upon Mugunghwa University’ courtyards, desperate to get to their classes or studying group, Junho, too, was among one of those busybodies, late for a shooting time with his group for film. Naturally, he wouldn’t have cared if it weren’t for the fact that his professor was breathing down his neck and his family was expecting brilliance from him. 

In the brunet’s hurry to get to the Cupid’s Garden, it seemed as thought another individual was just as erratic as him, desperate to get whatever destination called for her being. In an unfortunate scenario, the two bodies collided against one another and the camera that was gripped tightly in Junho’s hand came skidding down, crashing upon concrete. 

With the crash of his precious camera, the brunet’s calm also came tumbling down quite hard.

To piss off the film student even further, the girl whom he had crashed against had only gave him some meek bow before she went back on her way. Did she comprehend how expensive that camera costed?! Fury searing through his veins, Junho called out for the girl, making a few strangers jump in their oath at the sheer rage cutting through his words through his words.

“Where the fuck are you going!?” Eloquent speech aside, he had no time to care of his words as his camera laid, marred. He narrowed his eyes, expecting the girl whom crashed against him to stop in her tracks and reel herself back to where he stood.

[taexmgh]

”The bruises and contusions will remind me what you did when you wake.”

It was a little too much to ask that the girl forget she ever saw him tumbling from the sloped roof, down onto a large rubbish bin, before falling out onto the hard concrete ground. Of course, the image of a 5′10 male falling off of  a roof in rather a comical manner wouldn’t be forgotten easily, and the words that followed his plea for her to pretend she hadn’t seen him, were ones that, he realised, were truthful. 

He’d have a damn lot of bruises after this. 

Unfortunately, Taehyung wasn’t a makeup artist - he barely knew what mascara was, for years having believed it to be some sort of diarrhea medicine. The bruises would have to stay uncovered, however he was pretty sure the only visible one would blossom around the scrape on his left cheekbone from his tumble out of the large metal bin, sliding down the trash bags, like a dark, plastic ski slope. 

“Ah, c’mon, can’t you just, maybe, not mention that you ever saw it? I’ve already been caught up there twice.” His voice held a slight whine, shoulders hunched in a somewhat pathetic stance, though their was a comicality to the way he held himself, indicating that he wouldn’t be that annoyed if she ended up telling someone he’d yet again fallen from the roof of the library. 

[jaexmgh-blog]

Tᴏ Cᴀᴘᴛᴜʀᴇ Oᴄʜᴀ | jae&arisa

Photography had, and most likely would remain, a large part of Jaehyun’s life for many years. With the comfortable weight of the device grasped within his cold hands he could capture a single moment in time and remember it, keep it locked away for years to come, a permanent record of an action which would otherwise be forgotten. 

There were things Jaehyun preferred photographing, namely people, in various situations - whatever took his fancy, anything he’d like to remember. It may be the way someone walked, back held pin straight, almost uncomfortably so, or curved until Jaehyun wondered for a fleeting moment whether they were a hunchback, something akin to that which he’d seen in a Disney movie years ago. Or it’d be the way someone slept (mostly people in class, or Jimin, anyone he had access to while they slept). He would find a simple fascination in the way their lips may hang slightly parted, face relaxed of any emotion, peaceful and harmless. 

The world seemed different when looked at through the lens of a camera, clearer, colours brighter, more vibrant. Picking Photography as a minor hadn’t been a hard decision for Jaehyun - he enjoyed capturing the world in moments of chaos, or silent calmness. His apartment lay filled with files simply containing photographs he’d developed himself in the schools darkroom, having both a film camera and digital - his laptop almost filled with photos of simply pointless scenery, nameless people.

However he wasn’t as keen on being told what to photograph - he didn’t like guidelines, rules. They didn’t sit well with him. But, contrary to popular belief, Jaehyun did care somewhat about his grades, and the focus of the project didn’t entirely bore him. He was rather partial to tea - maybe he’d get some at the end of this, though if he didn’t he’d be rather irked - probably end up breaking into Jongsuk’s to once again steal his expensive, but simply wonderful tea. The professor never noticed, at least he’d never broached the subject to Jaehyun. 

He’d been partnered up for the project with a girl who Jaehyun had spoken to more than once, though he wouldn’t exactly call them ‘bosom buddies’ they were, in a sense, friends. He didn’t constantly harbor the overwhelming desire to kill her anyway, and that had to be a good sign. Arisa Yagi had intrigued Jaehyun from their very first meeting, finding they had quite a few things in common; Japanese (Arisa being half Japanese had so far helped with Jaehyun furthering his conversational abilities), photography, archery club, and tea (Jaehyun found himself drinking tea almost as much as he drank chocolate milk). There was a lot they could pull up to talk about, though neither seemed the extremely talkative type, their conversations were never dull, not to Jaehyun anyway. 

So he waited outside the Library - an easy meeting place, one they’d decided rather hurriedly on at the end of a Photography lesson the previous week. The gentle wind bit at his cheeks, bringing blood to the surface and powdering the pale skin over his cheekbones a gentle hue of pink as he stood, rooted to the spot, eyes darting from left to right, hoping the girl wouldn’t be late.