#jvrikng

[soseom-blog1]

NOW CONTINUING...

“No, no-- No matter what you say, I’m really not loving this--” The male groaned, placing his face on his palms and letting out a deep sigh. How exactly he got roped into this, he wasn’t sure-- Juri was a friend, and had offered the male a place to say and food to eat, in exchange that he ‘help’ with her streams. It was apparent that Seokmin and the girl had very different ideas of what the word ‘help’ would entail. To the boy, he thought it meant he would just laze around and handle the camera, making sure it stayed on her face (or her chest, depending on how annoying she was being and how much he wanted to irritate her at the moment) and other basic stuff like that. He didn’t think he would have to appear in the video. That was too much-- and Seokmin really wasn’t keen on having his face broadcast all over the internet.

Huffing once more, he tugged his hood further over his features, leaning away from her touch, and tried to sink further down on the chair he was in, as if he could melt into the furniture and disappear. That would be nice. Upon hearing the girl’s reactionary words to the stream comments, he sat up immediately, yelling. “Oh, hell no! I would never date this woman! She thinks she’s cute when she’s not! And tell those fuckers that I am not wearing a dress! Not unless I get paid, that is-- I’d probably do it for sixty-thousand won, at the very least...”

                                                                                    ... with @jvrikng!

[jeongchinoli-blog]

A Call to @jvrikng for a Novella.

He took subways on nights like this. He didn’t know why he found it relaxing, but he did. Scattered around like a few pieces of rice that had fallen on the floor, there were a few people left at the station, but it was serene. He sat at on a bench until they called for the final train to his destination. 

That was the best part. He would occasionally hear the crying of some lost girl or see running feet of someone who knew exactly where they were going. Everything felt like a crossroad here. He liked the limbo effect. He liked riding subways on nights like these, but the night was almost over. He got onto the last train to Gangnam. It was time for Donggil to go home.

The cart he was in wasn’t empty. That didn’t bother him as it often was not. Sometimes one or two people would be with him on his journey to his reality, but he knew tonight would be different. The girl who occupied the cart was prettier than the usual occupants. The girls before weren’t necessarily ugly, but they weren’t idols. This woman might as well been one. 

At this time of night, her lips were colored and glossed that could be described as perfection. Her dyed blonde hair cascaded down so voluptuously he would have sworn it was a wig if it wasn’t root shades subtle appearance. He could tell even as she sat she was taller than the average Korean woman, but still much shorter than he even if her legs seemed to go on for miles. 

He had been checking her out for a while now from his leaning position against a pull by the exit. He knew she had noticed from the way her body shifted and her eyes avoided his gaze. This didn’t bother him, though. She was beautiful. It wasn’t a sin to look, and that was all he had done. She finally met his gaze, and he gave her his soft, oh-so-charming grin before his eyes shifted down to his cellphone. He’d received a text.

She asked him for the time next. He asked her for the time, and his lips found a familiar smile as he looked from his phone to hear her shy explanation of a dead phone. He pressed home lighting his phone, and he read to her the time. “You’re French?” he asked her his deep, firm tone. “I can hear in your voice the sweetness of summer in a land so full of love, it is fed to you in meal,” he noted speaking to her in the language of love. “What is your name, Mon Cheri?” he inquired this time in a mixture of Korean and French. He was eager to hear what she was to say next.