#mdpvrk

[goldenxkookie]

[text]: not to be desperate or anything but I'm currently home alone and on the verge of jerking myself off to pictures of you. would be better if it was the real you though.

[sms;] you know that may be the most romatic thing you've ever said to me[sms;] not[sms;] try again and mabe you'll get lucky :T

[kvhyng]

"so, about those tattoo --"

     @mdpvrk

          ◤ “jisoo... park jisoo... i’ve already told          you that getting each other’s names          tattooed on ourselves is not the best idea.”

[melikertes-blog]

♟

( 🍥  non-sexual intimacy : ACCEPTING ! )♟: Patching up a wound

“i didn’t think you could get such battle scars from being a tutor!” he was teasing, truthfully, and it was more than evident in the way that after a nanosecond of donning a serious expression, the corners of his lips twitched upward a few times until the laughter he’d suppressed was set free. 

skillful hands maneuvered a strip of gauze around some type of laceration on the male’s forearm. it’s a good thing he wasn’t a forensic scientist or a detective, because he really can’t fathom what kind of event would cause such a wound. so naturally, he asks.

“can i ask what happened?” only he doesn’t stop there. if what jisoo was looking for was assistance from a taciturn good samaritan, he’s a bit out of luck. “not that you have to tell me. i’m just curious,” he continues as he works, ensuring that the wound is disinfected - and probably taking a bit more time than needed doing so. “lucky for you i’m an expert at patching up wounds. i get stuff like this a lot when i’m out on the boat in the mornings! at least when i’m clumsy, that is. which.. is often!”

[kvhyng]

Dear Jisoo ( bromate; brosband; brohem; brotatochip; bro; Ye to my KimYe )

« LETTERS »          (accepting)

dear dr. park,

oh my, there he is, my savior, doctor park jisoo. he, singlehandedly, has made living life about sixty-million times more bearable. you know that i love you, yeah? despite our bickering over whose turn it is to do the dishes, or who put the socks in the wrong order, you’re still one of my best friends and there’s nothing in the world that could get between us.

honestly? i used to think that living alone was the coolest thing, until you (somehow) managed to convince me to move in, and my life has changed for the better ever since. every day is so fun and exciting with you, and i’m never left feeling bored or lonely. you always go out of your way just to make sure i’m taken care of, and so i do my best to return the favor. you know that i’m always, always, always here for you, no matter what. you mean so much to me, and i care about you like i’d care about my own child or something i swear. and speaking of children, taesoo definitely loves me more. it’s just fact.

thank you for being a friend, a best friend, my rock and my support. thank you for the dreadful tutoring sessions. thank you for always being there when i need you. thank you for all of our talks, both the dumb ones and the serious ones. thank you for the late night and early morning platonic bro-cuddling. thank you for just being the best bromate, bro.

much love,xx taehyung

[no-zomi]

{ continued ; @mdpvrk }

         It was more of Jay’s natural instinct to give them a try with a date. Honestly, their contact recently was marked with indifference, some odd tension they’ve both failed at getting rid of. Maybe it was a nice idea for a change? Something to break the ice again and let them grow closer? At least to let Jay stand his ground and perhaps figure out what was there left for them, together or not? Of course, the fact he might have interrupted the boy’s routine, possible dose od daily studying or so, didn’t matter to the elder at this point. he needed an answer, simple as that. The fact he couldn’t seem to read Jisoo as easily as before, was driving him mad. Maybe it’s the matter of time till he feels at ease again. His brows furrow briefly upon the male’s first statement, tongue wetting his lips before he snorts, tapping with his fingers on the table’s surface as he bends down. His eyes find Jisoo’s own again, a slightly mocking smile tugging on the corners of his lips.

“-- Trying to make fun of me at such a crucial moment? I’ve been practicing voicing out this word for the last few hours, ehh.” With an exaggerated sigh, Jay crosses arms over his chest, tilting his head to the side with a tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. Play it cool, Liu Jay. Come on. The received response has Jay whine silently, a small groan forming in throat, though he soon breaks into a smile instead. “-- As assumed... Park Jisoo can’t do without a proper plan, huh? It’s gonna be a date with all its benefits, deal?” The elder shakes his head in a faint disapproval but eventually agrees, noneteheless. He could do that, couldn’t he? “Let’s compromise at this point, alright? You set-- let’s say 3 rules... and I state mine. One by one. Your first ground rule is...?” He knows it’s going to be probably much more disappointing for him, rather than Jisoo but as long as he can get to finally drag Jisoo out, free the boy from constant studying, is enough for the elder for now.

[kvhyng]

@mdpvrk from here!

         jaw clenched. toes tapping. pen clicking. he’s nervous, no doubt. and over what? nothing in particular. just a timid spirit, an uncomposable disposition and a bundle of nerves. he was surely out of place here in this library, only tagging along to keep his dear friend company. taehyung wasn’t much of the studious type, despite his love for late night documentaries; when it came to schooling, he just couldn’t bring himself to stay focused. it was amazing how even in the blazing heat of the season, the other seemed content staying locked up in this prison of a building. perhaps taehyung could learn thing or two in his time here.

         unable to keep himself glued to line upon line of text, he slumped in his seat, cheek smashed against smooth pages of his textbook. the sun was cast ever so perfectly through glass windows, illuminating nearby tables whilst leaving their own in the dark. taehyung heaved a sigh. it was too early for the dark, depressive thoughts to be clouding his mind, but something about being nose-deep in history and wars triggered them prematurely. “the world gives me fear.”

         he hadn’t been expecting any sort of response, especially having just barely mumbled the words out. jisoo, scholarly as ever, would typically just give a little chuckle to humor his outlandish comments, then simply return to the task at hand. so when taehyung received a small pep-talk in return, he wearily lifted his head, and gave the other a small quirk of the brow. but maybe he was right; fear was all about perspective. what kind of life could he possibly live, if he drowned himself in anxiety and labeled himself a coward? he offered up a small smirk, stretching out his hand dramatically in the other’s direction, “here, hold my hand and get me through the day,” he joked, retracting seconds later to prop his chin up onto folded arms.

         “i guess you’re right, though. if i was really afraid, i wouldn’t have even made it down here to meet you – on second thought, maybe i should live in fear, so i’d have an excuse to not be ‘studying’ anymore.” his expression is soft now, shoulders relaxed and brow no longer weighted down with the worry of the universe. “i’ve got some good people in my life, thankfully, but sometimes you can’t help but to get a little bit lost sometimes, y’know? one wrong move and it’ll haunt you for life.”

         limbs outstretched, eyes closed to bask in the cool air filtering through the center of the library. just moments ago, he was feeling his mood go haywire, and now, he might possibly be feeling motivated to keep to his studies for once.

         “exactly. here for each other, that’s what matters. anytime, anywhere. just maybe not before 6am.”

[goldenxkookie]

@mdpvrk  (x)

Maybe this was a mistake.

There’s a reason they haven’t called, or contacted one another after Jisoo left for the states. There is, and the awkward silence sitting between the two proves it, the fact that it still lingers, that of tension. Tension built up long before Jisoo asked to meet him here upon his return to South Korea, tension built up starting from all the way back when he left, without a single care in the world for what would happen to Jungkook. At least that’s how the younger saw it, should he see it any other way? Finding out about everything last minute, not getting a proper good bye in and even breaking down so badly at the airport like he did, begging him not to leave, it was ridiculous, embarrassing, and most of all painful. Jungkook still tries to swallow the thought of how he, Jeon what-are-emotions Jungkook, managed to do something like that. To swallow all of his pride and do what he did, only to feel the harsh smack of rejection. He’s never felt rejection, never that bad, being boasted as golden and perfect by his professors and parents had his confidence far too high and the fact that he was biting the harsh reality now gave it a serious blow. 

The first month after elder’s departure was the worst. Jisoo had become such an important part of his life, and to have that taken away from him just overthrew the balance of everything. He didn’t know who to visit during his free time, who to bring lunch to or who to call at ungodly hours in the night just to talk or complain about some non existent medical problem that he knows isn’t serious (but if he couldn’t sleep then he wasn’t going to let Jisoo do that either). It’s not that other college friends couldn’t fill in those gaps (well during the day at least) easily, but they weren’t the same, they weren’t Jisoo and that thought just had the boy in tears so often locked up in his apartment, unsure of what to even mention to his mom when she’d ask how Jisoo was doing, or if Jisoo was eating properly and when Jisoo and him would visit again--So many phone calls cut short because of these topics, with such oblivious confusion from mother’s side. 

“I don’t care what you believe.” He murmurs, eyes on his own drink, barely touched and probably running cold at this point. “You broke me, into millions of little bits and pieces. In the worst way someone could hurt me, you got me to let you in and then you.. You hurt me.” 

A small pause is given, lump starting to form in his throat as lower lip begins to curl, eyes stinging but he refuses to let anything tear up, the other doesn’t deserve that satisfaction, Jungkook wouldn’t allow it. He’s spent so many months getting over this and by now he should feel numb, by now he should feel like he’s immune or like looking at Jisoo doesn’t absolutely cause his heart to ache and pain, but it’s so hard to do that for some reason. “I shouldn’t have let you in.” Jungkook whispers, eyes glistening in warning that maybe, just maybe salty tear will roll it’s way down his cheek, but before that can even happen Jungkook is swiping at his cheeks with his wrist. 

“It’s a little too late for you to say that.”

[no-zomi]

𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤

{ "> !!! HOVER !!! } self-para mentioning: @mdpvrk, @zaarcasm, @consilian, @pastelism, @ximpvlsive word count: 2.701

               He was a genius of sadness. A pathetic man with nothing less but sorrow left in his life. Those emotions so deep and piercing it left him breathless every single night. He’d never thought Hell had such plans to punish him for falling in love. It was too much to handle at some point. The constant feeling of longing, emptiness replacing the only discovered happiness. Hapiness disguised as a lover who was a friend. Once barely a stranger. The cold figure, just like many. A human Jay claimed as an Angel. And he was defeated. Runaway was the only way. Jay was a bad person-- no... he was a very sick person. In need of a treatment, that’s for sure. Then again, choosing to live between humans who did no harm to him and deciding to poison their mere existence with his own presence is bad, isn’t it? Every ounce of his body and mind wanted to release this stress, fingers itching to harm yet another human for his own pleasure and the long-lasting peace coming straight after staining himself with blood. A crime nourished his senses, teased them with temporary exilirating experience. But it unfortunately never lasted long. Sometimes, he was convinced that his sorrow, his loneliness are the only things that keep him alive. This is his destiny and he must embrace it. And for all this time before, hed’d been simply betraying his kind, his life, pretending to be happy.

Indifference was his strongest power against the past. Even with the most relevant events and people in his life, Jay developed a sense of carelessness to these, acting as if they never existed, never happened. Even the confrontation with his father, as physically and mentally exhausting it was, after a short period, left no mark on him. Some days were just bad days, that’s all. And this way, a whole year has passed. When in despair, Jay sticked to the rule, it never happened, don’t rely on it too much. Surprisingly, it worked just fine. But every man has his secret sorrow, a hidden mystery his heart only holds. Jay wanted to be asleep with it, instead of waking up, coming back to being alive. Was it life, either way? Maybe another task? Yes. He can try to continue on like that. To turn his yearning, his past into a revere nightmare.... something soon to become irrelevant event that truly never mattered.

He left his current lover without a word, the decision being made without consultation, making Jay realize that he was indeed very selfish. And nothing seemed important enough to make him stay. Very rude, to put it nicely. And he knows the other is going to wait, even if it takes a whole eternity and he’s going to cry, scream and hate Jay for that and yet, be able to forgive him everything for another kiss, for a promise of him coming back one day... maybe. A love that knows no limits Jay treats like a headache, trying to get rid of. Sometimes he wonders if there will ever be something to make him regretful.

Strolling down the Southern district, Jay rejects another phone call, not even bothering to check his inbox that reached about 23 new messages. Surprising, coming to a man who claimed he has no real friends. He’d wondered once or twice if one of those could have come from Hanbyul. Jay frowns briefly upon this thought, stuffing the phone back into his pocket. The last time the two talked ended up with a rather huge misunderstanding, followed by an argument Jay left without an explanation. It doesn’t matter now, hm? Something feels heavy in his chest.... the ache of love for his long-lost brother. He flicks ash off the cigarette, staring ahead. The tall skycrapers remind him of his childhood spent in Shanghai. It’s almost the same if not the constant talks in Cantonese that can be heard everywhere. For some reason yet, Hong Kong feels like freedom. A gate to a different world, aready marked with a taste of West. Fresh breeze brushes his cheeks as he exhales, a pair of maroon hues reflecting the sunlight as pads of fingers touch the water. The sea is already warm, announcing a soon arriving summer. He bites back a hiss as he stands up, the pain in his arm still as a reminder of fresh wounds he covers with a long-sleeved shirt.

He would love it, too, Jay thinks staring into the pure waters of South China Sea. Him. His. With him. Why even after over 7 months, the feeling’s the same. Why do so many people, places remind him of this one man?

A hand hurriedly reaches to wipe his cheek, a short drip, drip, drip sound echoing the little space as few tears fall into the water. Every single one like a word whispering “I miss you” louder than every sense would be able to express. And he swears this is the last time he’s ever going to cry. Ever.

     May, 18th. Hong Kong -> Seoul

           Blending into the crowd of Koreans in the capital, constantly in a hurry was an easy task to perform, though Jay put a mask of an “I’m Chinese.” attitude for over a month, not speaking a word in Korean for long weeks. Why? For the sake of his own peace, the solitude he decided to stick to. And he looks the same. Like the first time he entered this foreign land to escape his childhood memories, the people claiming themselves as his family members, Jay comes back to the same place as if to face his demons. To find tomething to compensate for his lost identity, lost life. And despite the appearance, he feels 20 years older than before, as if memories and wounds are wrinkles on his body and mind. He holds no regret, however because for the first time in his life he breathes an atmosphere of hope. And he’s not hostile anymore. His stare holds no curse against the world anymore and his stare is different, filled up with curiostity. There’s just untarnished sense of wonder, indifference to people’s existence in his steps, in every gesture. And his lips twitch but he doesn’t smile anymore. Like a fallen angel, crying for his creator, knowing that he has to stand up on his own this time and learn to live again in a much different world, alone. He’d soon discovered that sorrow was better than fear. Because fear is a terrible journey without a destination. His sorrow had its arrival. In Sincheon, just where he used to almost a year before, his apartment empty but soon to be furnished. Just as his life empty, soon to be nourished with something new. Maybe this time, it was going to be a better chapter. Drinking to drown his sorrows had never felt more real. But he has to overcome it, to spread the roots of hope in his heart, or just...an acceptance. He’d never been an optimist after all.

A habit drags him down the alley, to the nearest convenience store, an empty pack of cigarettes soon replaced with a full one. And he’s glad that his voice echoes unrecognized, though Jay tracks at least three familiar faces in the store. And the worker once always trying to sneak away from Jay’s sight whenever he was around, now flashes a smile to him, handing him some crisps and drinks. How funny. 

Shutting the door behind, holding few bills and some letters, Jay enters his entirely empty apartment. Just few boxes are cornered in the bedroom and his old couch remains left in the living room.  He was meant to sell the place and rent a smaller apartment in Gyyeongi-do instead. Seoul was both exciting and tiring all together and he grew to cherish silence more than anything else recently. He doesn’t want to explain himself in front of anybody and be reminded of anything he regrets. Resting a plastic bag on the floor in the hall, the male reaches to pull the box closer to the couch. It’s sealed, a big handwritten “rubbish”  painted with a black marker on both, this, and the other box. He honestly can’t remember much about its content. Sitting down on the floor, he leans against the couch, slowly fiddling with the box, cutting the tape in few places and finally getting to open the damn thing. But it’s content is much more unexpected than Jay is ready to admit. Jay’s a great liar. Great at pretending nothing truly matters to him. Maybe this is why he lost so many people before. Because he’d never shown he tries… he wants his life to be different.  

Scrunching up his nose, Jay holds up a thin bracelet and a black elastic, a complete confusion spreading over his features at first as he has no idea from where those came from. But soon he pictures a young female throwing her legs over his bed after he offered her a shelter that one night. And he remembers how she was tying up her hair with this thin elastic, walking towards the counter to make the breakfast for the two.  Zaara. And it was out of question for Jay to refuse her, even if they fought so many times over such irrelevant things. And she would call him repulsive if he claimed himself as handsome once again. Jay simply shakes his head briefly upon this memory, dropping the elastic back to the box. It doesn’t matter anymore, right? A freaking year has passed. A frown yet ghosts over his features as he dips his hand further in the box, many weird objects of seemingly uknown origin filling it. Why the hell he didn’t get to throw those awa before? A sudden recollection of the last night spent in Seoul came to his mind with many object flying from one side of the room to the other, the numerous attempts to drown himself in a bottle of whiskey-- no, he never liked it, it was vodka or tequilla, he can’t remember anymore. And the floor was stained with red wine and his own blood dripping from his fingers. Old times. And yet he holds up some old picture of him and Hana when they were out for sushi and Jay truly thinks they both look gross and silly but at this very moment it doesn’t matter. Suddenly he recalls all those times he didn’t have time for the female or brushed her off because of his work. For a moment he wonders if she’s doing fine, if she’s in love with some other jerk Jay wants to break into two or just single and independent, jumping over every single obstacle on her way. Father and daughter. They really were alike back then. And then he finds some letter to his daughter, full of self-hatred, the one he was meant to send the day he decided to go back to China but he never sent. He frowns at the content, realizing that no words would make up for this lost time, honestly. And then he finds some old phone covered in all kind of cute stickers which must have belonged  to Amalie. Probably from the times she used to play Candy Crush or something. Jay honestly never paid attention much, always claiming this game is just for kids. Well, he also pretended he can’t understand her broken Korean, even though she was better than he himself. Well then. Amalie, or Ami like Jay used to call the girl, was this crazy type of the woman Jay will always consider a child, a little sister to protect at all cost. Or at least, it was like that ages ago. Probably one of very few females who were able to respond with a bigger dose of sarcasm to his mean remarks. He loved it and yet, can’t bring himself to a single smile right now. So much has changed. And his expression changes, the sudden feeling of nostalgia pitting him as he recalls much more risky moments, those tainted with danger, unknown destiny as they were trapped In a burning building. Jay remember holding the petite female in his arms, balancing on the line between life and death as he was trying to escape. 11th floor.

If sensitiveness had its place, it would be filling this box. This, was probably everything Jay wished to get rid of back in the day. After all, he’s here now, in an empty apartment, with no job, no friends. Alone, on his own. And it’s fine this way? This is what people call a second chance.

But his second chance is long-gone the moment he catches a sight of a familiar visage, his acute senses catching a glimpse of a well-known smile. He presses his whole soul to the single memory of the male he loved once. The sudden recollection of his oh-so-non-existing past striking his heart all at once with a single picture he accidentally finds in a box. And thin fingers instantly release thier grip as he throws the picture back to the mentioned box. But the destiny is inevitable, is it? Something’s scribbled on the back of the picture and Jay squints upon recognizing his own handwriting.  Ah, yes. Jay loved books and in the deepest corners of his mind, he’d alwas held in his memory quotes worth remembering.  He would be able to note a page, an author immediately Reading was his little pleasure and something he was taught to enjoy when he was still a child by his mom.  

“And I had always loved him, hadn't I,    no matter what happened,    and how strong could love grow      if you had eternity to nourish it,    and it took only these few moments    in time to renew  its momentum, its heat?”

Jisoo. The name always sounded intimate on his tongue. Was it desperation making Jay love Jisoo so much? To bind him closer and closer till there was no space left between them, their hips, their lips, till the male’s breath was his own? An impulsive, desperate act of selfishness to carve himself in the younger’s mind like the sweetest memory, despite the pain shaking his fragile frame when Jay was… himself,  when his grip was tight, words silent but audible. Would Jisoo trust every “I miss you” and “I love you” if there was another one to be spoken out? And it all comes back to him. The warmth beneath his cruel fingers he was addicted to. Everything he’d ever desired. Everything he’d truly craved for. 

But there was no love left in him. It was all taken from him, with every human ounce able to feel this sort of emotion, the moment Jisoo left without a trace, like a silly dream a child would believe was real once. A dream of lovers escaping the darkness, who knew nothing about life without one another. Overcome with love. How much in love he was with this ethereal thought. That’s nonsense.

“...what a stupid fairytale.” The man murmurs as a deep sorrow penetrates the corners of his mind. He may try to supress the feeling but it’s there... deep in his chest. Despair. It had its deadly grip around Jay’s throat as if reassuring that this is the only thing that’s going to replace the velvet touch of the one who left. His despair is the only thing left now.  He quickly seals the box back, kicking to the side before holding out one energy drink he bought that night. He’s going to throw them away tonight. Standing up, the young male approaches the balcony, leaning against the railing. He still holds the picture in hand, staring ahead beofre he casually ripped it into small pieces, throwing through the balcony, watching how the pieces are falling down. Inevitable end. Game over. Seoul shines bright again with thousands of neons and flashy colors. Just like every night he went out to smoke after a long walk in Gangnam. The air smells like summer again with the familiar songs echoing the district from the nearest club. But it doesn’t feel like home anymore.