#fnxtaemin

[fnxanteros-blog]

☮ ✕ ♕

☮  do they have an idol or someone they look up to?

Currently, no, however while growing up he looked up to his older brother (the son of the family that had taken him in). He’d been smart, popular, attractive, but always down to earth and kind. Throughout puberty he’d been Jongsuk’s source of information, the person he could go to for advice, who wouldn’t laugh at him, well, not much.

✕  how do they handle rejection?

Terribly. Rejected in the relationships sense, love not reciprocated is Jongsuk’s worst nightmare - being alone. By now, however he’s gotten used to rejection - it seems to happen often to him. He’ll lock himself away for a while and embrace the feeling of being alone to try and make it hurt less, so get used to the pain in his chest, and by now he had.

♕  do they trust easily?

Trusting had always been something Jongsuk jumped into, putting his trust in people, even when they clearly didn’t deserve it, thanks to his being oblivious to certain manipulative situations or where he was simply being used for someone else’s pleasure. His trust was often misplaced, but he never seemed able to fix that.

[savedseul-blog-blog-blog]

27 & ✎

27. What is their biggest regret?

Seulgi’s biggest regret is her failure. Her childhood was devoted to trying to put the pieces of her mother back together after her father’s disappearance. It was a constant from day one, whispered stories and choked sobs, quiet whimpers and the sound of her mother crying when she thought she couldn’t hear. And Seulgi wanted so badly to fix her, to help her, to soothe her worries and fears. And yet, in the end, her father returned and her mother welcomed him back with open arms to wreck everything Seulgi had tried so hard to build for them. Her biggest regret is not being the pillar her mother needed, not being strong enough or good enough to help her mother heal so that when he returned she could have told him to shove it up his ass and leave.

✎

Seulgi's taste in music varies drastically- for the most part she likes music she can feel, music that shakes her down to the bones. Dubstep, club type of music, the occasional rock and electronica samplings. She also has a surprising affinity for anything that sounds sort of dreamy, like it could come out of a music box, or is particularly haunting, or rap music that incorporates stringed instruments (see: Outsider). For literature she loves biographies of odd or offbeat historical figures, and is currently reading one about Harry Houdini.

[fnxplutus-blog]

LUCKY ;D

LUCKY:My muse seeing yours for the first time thinking 'wow, s/he's cute'

As picky as Ahn Jaehyun was, he couldn’t stop his eyes from staring when it caught sight of something that looked pleasing. Though he blamed his terrible eyes, the first time he saw Taemin he remembered commenting on his delicate features and silky skin, thinking the short hair worked on who he once thought was a girl him. “Cute” he had muttered under his breath, taking a few more seconds of his precious time to watch the male. It was later that he discovered that he had been a male, but Jaehyun had no excuse for every other stolen glance afterwards. 

[savedseul-blog-blog-blog]

♖

♖ for one of my muses guilty pleasures

They spend an absurd number of their days and nights like this, tangled together in disarray, addled and muddled and magnificent. She had made her way over sometime north of three in the morning, unable to sleep, feet padding quiet over the cold concrete floor between their apartments. Taemin’s door was properly locked, as it should be, but Seulgi had a key made long ago and she let herself in with a soft click, pushing it closed behind her. He was awake and bent over his rickety little set up when she pushed her way into the dimly lit room, vials bubbling and the little bunsen burner light bright.  She slunk up behind him on light feet, hands falling sudden to his shoulders and startling him into toppling out of his chair. When she had been thoroughly abused and berated for this behavior, she  managed to talk the boy (quite easily, frankly) into a cup of one of his teas and a huff of something sparkly and gold that left them both tangled up content on his couch, a twist of limbs on limbs, skin on skin and his heart beat steady in her ear as lazy, mumbled whispers were traded between the pair, a familiarity only they shared, drifting slow into sleep. 

[savedseul-blog-blog-blog]

☼

8. My muse will tell you about their first love

 They’re fourteen and things have started to turn bad for Seulgi. There’s a fear that lingers around her features, and her easy, brilliant smile is slowly faltering, bit by bit, day by day. It starts to twist and turn in on itself, until its becoming more mischief and malice than the innocent exuberance it had once possessed. Taemin is there to witness it, but he says little, just lets their shoulders press together as they sit side by side, legs dangling over the edge of the brick wall upon which they sit, crumbling and abandoned, as they look out over the little pond at the park near their apartment buildings. Their heels thump lightly in an erratic rhythm against the stone, and there’s a dramatic sigh that falls from her lips as she finishes off her story. “I just don’t see why he doesn’t love me.” she bemoans dramatically, settles her chin on his shoulder- bony and thin much like her own. They’re both beanpoles, slender and leggy. Taemin snorts derisive- even then he is all rapier wit and snarky chuckles. “Because he’s our teacher, dumbass,” the other points out, elbowing her in the side. She shifts her weight and rolls her shoulders back with a groan, lowerlip jutting out. “He’s just the assistant though. So. Its…different. Probably.” It wasn’t, but he was clever and pretty, had bright eyes and was absurdly enthusiastic about history, which was both endearing and bizarre, and at fourteen Seulgi thought he was the coolest person she’d ever seen. 

[savedseul-blog-blog-blog]

[ ✉ —seulgeek ] knocking back a little too much tea there babe? [ ✉ —seulgeek ] ;D 

[ ✉ - tae ] idk what too much means but it sounds shitty [ ✉ - tae ] i want to eat u.

[savedseul-blog-blog-blog]

readings-- o3 ltm.

His face was familiar, from the slight hook of his nose to the fullness of his lips to the quirk of  his brows, the way his mouth hung slack and slightly unattractive when he was thinking, the tiniest furrow in his brow and a slight squint narrowing wide doe eyes. Taemin often feels like her other half- nearly as brash and just as stubborn and it is that stubbornness that has kept them together so long, prompted them to move out of broken homes and into tiny studios situated side by side, just a hop and a jump away from the other at any minute. Taemin is the closest she's ever been to another person but her mother, and she both loathes and loves him for that. She's never seen anything real in his palm, never felt the tug in her chest that heralded a real reading, and she is so unspeakably grateful for that she can't express it. She shuffles the deck and sweeps it across the table between them, the cloying scent of the incense he brought with him clouding her nose, nearly palpable in its sweetness. "This one is too much," she decides, lips twitching. He picks his cards - 3 of them of course- and she flips them over one at a time. "Five of cups, six of cups, king of wands. Oh, wands, look at you, always a little witch." she teases tapping the surface of the card as she examines them, pulls a drag from the chipped china teacup set before her, the liquid swirling in cosmic eddies, midnight blue and milky white. "Here's past, the spilled cups indicate misfortunes, disappointments. Good news though is you've got six full cups coming up present, so its time to take those in stride and move right along. Now, your wanded king here, thats a fun one. Got a new boy toy in your life? Positive, optimistic, loud, honest? Ringing any bells, something I should know about?" she teased brightly, thunking at the other's shin with her foot.

[savedseul-blog-blog-blog]

i. fortune -- ltm,ksg

The wind was crisp and cold, the sky a clouded canopy of slate gray fading to a somber dusk, and it was perfect weather to be settled into bed with a good book or tucked up in front of the fireplace. But this didn’t stop the marketplace from buzzing with life, the thriving hub swarming with busy participants, shouting merchants and haggling customers, parents herding children and teenagers ducking out on after school activities to hang out with their friends, scarfing down food from little stalls. And Seulgi? She sat, draped in dark fabrics, her hair flowing and long, her eyes precisely and darkly lined, a slight shimmer to the makeup and the barest, most mysterious lilt of a smile on her lips, fit to rival the Mona Lisa itself. This was the nature of business, after all. It was peeking at the world from between the fluttering doors of her canopy, the jingle and clang of wind chimes and bells strung up from the framing. The tea kettle balanced precariously on top of a camping stove on an vintage brass drink cart in the corner began to whistle abruptly, steam shooting from the spout and flooding the small interior with an appropriately misty shroud of humidity, one she hoped the passerby properly noticed, because it really added to the mystique well. And just as she reached to place two cups and tea bags to the table, a familiar mop of dark hair stooped to poke into her tent, obstructing the sun and further muting the already dim light. “Hey sailor, want me to read your palm?” she lilted in that same lazy, minutely mysterious tone she used for business- a blend between all knowing and slightly over it. Despite her words she was already pouring the tea, watched the leaves stain the water a pretty royal blue. Seulgi reached abruptly across the table to snag the other’s wrist, slender in her palm- breakable almost, which was appealing in an odd way and certainly wasn’t a thing a normal girl ought to think about, frankly- as she swept her hand over his fingers to unfurl them, examined the lines. “You’re doomed to play second fiddle to your exceptionally hot next door neighbor.”