#kimyng

[mauxluhan]

The text makes his eyebrows raise, thumb swiping along the screen to unlock it so he could read over it several times just to confirm that yes, he was sincerely asking. A hand idly rubs the back of his neck, eyebrows furrowed together briefly as a few thoughts came to mind but alas, it wasn’t much of his business.

[SMS ↪ Han] I'm extremely concerned as to why you asked me-- [SMS ↪ Han] But this is also going to sound strange. Come over, I have something you can use.

Seriously, no one could blame him for the fight breaking out, let alone accuse him of starting it. With the blood splattered all over his shirt and his face, fingers were pointed and he was ultimately kicked out of the party. Fucking losers didn't even have tequila, he thought as he stalked his way down the street, people blatantly avoiding him with looks of disgust on their faces. The text he sent moment after being kicked off was rushed and he wasn't even sure he texted the right person, the vibration in his pocket telling him he would find out. He tugged his phone out and exhaled a pained sigh, ignoring the specks of blood on the screen as he swiped it to text back.

[ t e x t : Myung ] Bad night out-- I'll be there in ten.

[phsco-blog]

kimyng; 

    It was a few days ago he noticed, felt the absence because it was something he had used quite often, and soon enough felt the irritation because it was something he needed. Well, he could have used something else and made less of a big deal about it, but it was still his and the fact that someone stole it— or perhaps accidentally— no, it was no accident. A heavy sigh leaves him as his phone vibrates to indicate a text, carelessly tossing the black bag aside to pull out his phone.

     Ah, this man was impossible. He had stolen his favorite scarf, a gift from someone, and he had been harassing him for it up until this point. Teeth clench for a moment, evident of his annoyance, before he types back.

[SMS]: Why not? It isn't yours to keep, sir.

[SMS]: Please? It's special to me. Don't be heartless--

     ”Hopefully that’s enough..” Words are muttered under his breath as he pushed his phone back into his pocket, flicking back black bangs before he retrieved his bag once more so he could leave.

   It hadn't been his intention to bring the scarf with him home, he had actually taken what he thought what was his own in the hurry. But it was obvious that he was going to play around with the elder, simply because he knew that his own was still hanging around somewhere in the lad's place. So the messages that he received in return only had him chortle lightly, looking over at the scarf there was hanging nicely over the back of his chair.

   Not really knowing what to write, his fingers scribbled different sentences; and just figured he'd go for one where he wouldn't get more angered by his small joke.

[ SMS ] You have something special belonging to me.

[ SMS ] Bring that and you'll get it back.

   It may have been heartless, since he had been the one making a mistake in the first place -- but he also took this as an opportunity to meet up again, the both of them being busy throughout the Christmas days, due to buying presents and meeting up with old and new friends. So Byunghun was hoping that they'd be alright after switching scarfs again.

[park-saigo-blog]

@kimyng said: SAIGO REALLY.

Well how am I supposed to know

[park-saigo-blog]

[text]: The Christmas tree is on fire.

[txt] Pics or it didn’t happen.

[k-jngin]

[text]: Is that suppose to be a threat?

[ txt ; myungsoo ] well it wasnt supposed to be a threat AT FIRST

[ txt ; myungsoo ] but if its scaring you then 

[ txt ; myungsoo ] yes it is a threat u wanna fite 

[ txt ; myungsoo ] except not really... idk how to fight...

[raelvnn-blog]

kimyng replied to your post:[text]: Haha, no. I’m not giving it back.

[SMS; Rae]: Finders keepers, that’s why.

(sms → myung) But. It doesn't count if you found it at my house... 

[raelvnn-blog]

[text]: Haha, no. I’m not giving it back.

send my muse one of the following to see how they react: 

(sms → myung) wHAT (sms → myung) WHY THE HECK NOT 

[archive4selentieun]

kimyng:

     The pencil easily slipped from his fingertips as he slowly began to doze off, unaware of his surroundings and completely vulnerable, but also without a single care in the moment as sleep fogged his mind. Naeun was around the room somewhere working on her own projects in the peaceful atmosphere, perhaps leaving him to sleep for at least an hour or two before they needed to be somewhere else, that alone was a comforting thought.

     He stretched his arm out for a comfortable pillow, cheek pressed upon his forearm and the paperwork long forgotten. Although he wasn’t sure how long he knocked out for, could only register her soft voice in his ear moments later and his body twitching as he began to wake with a start.

     A tired sigh leaves him, gaze lowered some as he spoke in a groggy tone. “How long was I out? Ah.. I really shouldn’t sleep.” Another sigh, a hand rubbing his cheek as his sweater had left a prominent mark along his jaw, not giving her much time to answer his question before he mumbled. “As tempting as it is but.. Want to help me, Nae?”

 “For half an hour to forty five minutes.” She gives a proper answer to the older male, it’s a guesstimate due to how she wasn’t too sure herself. Eyes weren’t tracking down the time of when Myungsoo was sleeping then. Puckering her lips out with her fingers lightly brushing across the top of her head in order to scratch at it. Naeun wasn’t too sure what he needed help with, but with how exhausted he was, she was willing to do as much as she can. Besides her assignments that she was doing in the corner was finally completed.

Hands were placed right onto the surface of the desk to remain at her feet, completely balanced and she finds herself keeping a proper gaze on the older. “What do you need help with?” It wasn’t a challenge, she assumes. Because the similarities were evident in between their passions and interests. So to Naeun, she complies without feeling hesitant from the beginning. Reaching over to poke the center of his forehead in order to regain his attention before he suddenly falls into a slumber once again.