#imyouva

[jeonque-blog]

How do I approach you lovingly?

With love. 

[kwonxxji]

IM SUPPOSED TO BE LITERATE HERE, YOU JERk

What’s stopping you??

[kwonxxji]

you're the worst

Why’s that?

[madeintokyo]

imyouva:

    Preoccupied, hesitant glances allow her to examine the mess that’s decorating the stranger. She’s adorned a look that balances between concern and disgust, uncertain of why he’s bespattered in blood. She tries to render it as anything but the worst-case-scenario, and she’s almost certain that her occasional glances at, not him, but the vital fluid, is discreet. So, when he speaks to her, he earns a dreadful articulation.

                Oh god. What if he’s a murderer? Why did I pick tonight to go out?               See, Yoona? This is why you listen to Tiffany. Now you’re going to die.

    There’s a pause, and an uncomfortable silence—but, wait, how could this get any more off? The last thing you should worry about when a man covered in blood asks you for a lighter is awkward silence. Awkward silence is a given compared to the possibilities, and she wishes she would’ve left five minutes prior when the thought to ensued in favor of avoiding this. “No, sorry, I don’t— uhm. Are you hurt?”

His colorful tongue [ just numb at the moment, however ] carefully touches them– His teeth hurt real good, can’t find a way to sit right in his mouth without feeling like they are going to fall out, while there are small ribbons of red cut into his marmoreal flesh that sting so much ; the repercussions of plunging himself into an abrupt, violent work, though he has long since adapted to such matters that it barely occurs to him as a surprise now. On his staggering way to Heaven knows where, digging into pockets in search of the two things that comfort him, he realizes he lost it again. His fucking lighter.

          Inhale.                     Exhale.

Intermittent glimpses are thrown over his shoulder, bruising lips sucked in an abstracted manner– Actions that are the progeny of paranoia. He is quiet too, well aware of his unseemly appearance [ pale hands stained with blood, the most evident ] but he needs something to burn the anxiety inside which would be a couple of cigarettes, so at the stranger’s reply, a curse almost escapes him out of frustration. At her query, though, he finally starts checking himself for any injuries. Pause. “I just– I can’t feel my hands...” He trails off as he moves his fingers with a nervous gulp. Not even a proper sentence and he is already swaying on his feet due to exhaustion. Shit.

[shemren-blog]

ღ

Pianosand Clockwork: with clocks we play, and waste theday away; one of our muses is at the piano attempting yet again to masterClocks, the other happens to walk by the door, enticed by the music...by theend of the day, they are playing together...rain a soft pitter patter on thewindows.

She hears the other’s songfrom outside, one of the few true benefits of elven ears. She’s certain thatthe song isn’t loud enough for anyone else to hear, if they did, they shouldreact in some way. She can tell it’s not perfect; here and there, there arenotes that sound a little strange in the composition, or rushed, as though theone playing would have almost skipped them by mistake and was trying to catchup before it was much too late. She doesn’t even realize when she heads for thefront door of the building – she’s still thinking of the song, trying torealize why it feels so damned familiar to her when she’s certain she’s neverheard the likes of it before.

But it’s music, and musicalways affects her strangely – makes her bold and daring (well, more thanusual) when she ought not to be, and so, so painfully curious.

The song intensifies, andshe can tell she’s reached her destination. The door is open, and Seren wondersif the piano player even knows that much. Or whether it matters. From where shestands now, in the doorframe, she can see the girl playing, almost frantically.She’s so immersed in the song that she doesn’t notice the long shadow thatSeren’s petite frame casts over the floor, stretching all the way to her feet.She’s hunched over slightly, dark hair an impenetrable curtain over herfeatures, shielding her from the elven woman’s curiosity.

She doesn’t move until thesong is over, and then she only does so to flip the music sheets, to search foranother song, and then, to brush the hair away from her features. But that muchis enough for her to finally catch note of the intruder, and her doe-like eyesalmost make Seren step backwards when they lock on her features. There’s noquestion from the other, just unabashed curiosity, and the elf runs a handthrough her honey strands of hair, rather awkwardly, before attempting to comeup with an apology. “I’m sorry, I didn’tmean to intrude, I just… you play beautifully. And the door was open—“ Sheadds, as though that little final detail would excuse her inopportune presence.

“Can you play, too?” The other asks, and Seren’seyebrows furrow together almost instantly, as though she’d be disappointed inherself for having to say ‘no’.

“I’ve never… been taught how to. I think this is actually theclosest I’ve ever been to a piano.” She admits, avoiding tomention that, technically, where she comes from, the instrument doesn’t even exist yet.

“Would you like to try nonetheless?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead,she almost dances her way to the other woman’s side, on tip-toes, a radiantsmile curving her glossy lips upwards. “MayI really…?”

[sungkiss]

Tea, or coffee?

“Tea.” She gave no hesitance to her reply, nodding. “I’m not a big fan of caffeine, candy keeps me going though.”

[avajvng-blog]

"I’m tired. You’re tired. Let’s sleep together!"

Eyes widened, lips quirked up at the corners, Ava looked at her friend and tried to hold her laughter back. "You know, as much as I want to sleep, I feel like now isn't the time for a nap," she said, shaking her head. "We should get these cookies baked and then we can veg out while watching a movie. Deal?" she dropped a few cookies into a little bag and tied it with ribbon. She had roped the other girl into helping her put together some things for the bake sale the hospital was doing for the long term patients to get some new toys. 

[mdpvrk]

drink me.

drabble prompts;Leave a “Drink Me” in my ask, and I will write a drabble about my character taking shots with yours. 

Air is pulled through clenched teeth, jaw set as a subtle burn resides in his throat, legs are crossed, a bottle of soju placed off to the side - half empty, set beside the other two that had yet to be opened ( just yet ). In front of him sits Yoona, holding up a short glass with an eager expression, cheek painted a light pink as she waits for another shot to be poured. Ah. Had someone asked Jimin what he was doing later this night, never would he have guessed, much less told whomever, he’d be downing shots with Im Yoona. It felt a tad surreal, this woman was someone to be idolized, admired from afar rather up close - especially in such close proximity, she was defiantly picture perfect, even up close.Reaching over he grasps the opened bottle, tilting it just enough to pour a proper amount, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards at the action, ” You know the rules, I’ll tell you one truth an two lies, if you guess wrong you spin four times, an take your shot - if you guess right, I take two.” as if to reassure her she had a chance of winning two shot glasses are filled to the brim, placed off to the side in case, not at all feeling confident in himself, it was no surprise  he’d already lost a couple times, she was surprisingly good at reading his expressions. Jimin squints, head feeling a tad woozy, but nothing he couldn’t handle for now, before setting the bottle back down, joining the others.

A childish drinking game had ensued. Something that had been made up as an excuse to stay a bit longer, to laugh a bit louder when drunken stumbles occurred. A small escape from reality, he told himself, something he shouldn’t be indulging in. Alcohol was bad, an addiction that could grow to powerful when presented to someone with such a weak tolerance. Ah. He should slow down after this, find a new hobby in order to clear his mind, a new indulgence to abuse.

" I got it, I got it. " Her soft voice flows outwards, a rather confident grin working it’s way upon pink lips as she stares him down. Dark orbs would narrow in challenge, snort ensuing as front denticle bite along a bottom lip, Jimin nods, " Ah, alright - when I was four I tripped an fell into a creek,  I’ve eaten raw squid before, and I’m planning to go bungee jumping sometime this month." A single digit trails along the rim of a glass, a short laugh spilling outwards, parting tiers as Yoona narrows her gaze upon his face, as if trying to distinguish lie from truth. " Squid….I’m going to go with the squid." She nods firmly, affirming her choice with a wide smile. Wrong.  He can’t hold it back, the spill of loud almost boasters laughter, practically falling back at the sheer force of it. The face he’s presented with is mixed with disappointment, annoyance, an just all together loss.  

Tongue clicks to the roof of her mouth an Jimin shifts his weight upon the floor, elbows pressing to thighs as his chin goes to rest along palms, a few snickers of laughter escaping here an there as he waited. Yoona goes to stand, grumbling to herself, bottom lip jutting out the slightest bit as she wobbles, making the effort to spin four times before tossing the shot back, a hiss escaping pink tiers as mumbles fall forth, ” gross…who eats raw squid…..disgusting…”  Jimin grins, a cheeky expression filtering over features as a shrug is granted, ” It was a dare, when I was thirteen.” He grasp for one of the filled glasses, eyeing it for a moment before tossing it back - for the hell of it. 

"Oh, should we play that next? Truth or dare?”