☽ if this is still a thing
☽.
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from South Korea
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from France
seen from Australia
seen from Australia

seen from Australia

seen from Senegal

seen from Australia
seen from Thailand
seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from Netherlands

seen from United States

seen from Australia
☽ if this is still a thing
☽.
▲
❛ && . send me a symbol for--! ❜ ( @skyreide / status: accepting. )
▲ five time my muse thought about kissing yours, and the one time they did.
I.
Winter’s harsh blows hits Seoul violently and the wind’s rattles against her windows is what wakes her up.
He’s fallen fast asleep. Slow and steady, chest heaving up and down and she watches. She doesn’t know why she does when she should be sleeping. But honestly, he shouldn’t even be here anymore. His wound have healed by now yet he still drops by once and again. He does indeed have his own way of finding her each time she’s gone and she’ll come to realize the value of his words not until months later when he’s gone, unsure for how long.
He isn’t so bad when he’s sleeping like this, is what she thinks as she unconsciously approaches the other’s sleeping form, everything he has to offer being scrutinized beneath her wandering gaze. She wonders whether he gets enough sleep back at home because it must be that. He wouldn’t be going back to her home just to get a good night sleep had he been getting sufficient rest back at the confines of his home. But more than that she wonders whether there’s something bothering him, unsure whether she’s still a stranger to ask such questions.
How beautiful are his lips, shaped like--
Deep crimson hues paint against her cheekbones for catching herself looking at him like this before leaving the room to fetch herself a glass of water. Make it cold, please.
@skyreide
Sky was a magnet for accidents. Getting hurt on the streets of Seoul was only a matter of time with his big mouth, but to his own surprise it’s not a brawl that triggered his present state but an injury reflecting his ignorance. Sixty minutes with Gordon Ramsay had apparently birthed him in to a chef. He’s in the kitchen now, preparing something of a fish-and-chips but his inexperience shows in an inch cut around his thumb, because he can’t handle knives properly. At least not where they weren’t being used for combat was concerned. He’d gotten used to Tzuyu being there and doesn’t condemn the company either. How she managed to make time for him was still a miracle he can’t figure, but it was flattering in its own sense; to have a friend overlook his stupidity from time to time. What he does condemn is being applied alcohol where it hurt. That was a job for his beloved housekeeper back in England, who somehow knew the right words for soothing an injury that wouldn’t ease him in to a wimp. He thinks he might cry now that someone else was making an attempt, and he shuffles away from her on the sofa, concerned of his own reaction should she force herself closer to him. “You really don’t have to do that. I mean it, I can pay hospital bills–” He’s desperate for a distraction and uses the one thing he thinks might actually deter her. “Yah, I said stop it! If you don’t I’m going to single-handedly create a scandal. You’re in my apartment after all.”
Tzuyu’s eyebrows shot so far up that she thought that might just leave her face completely at the male’s riposte – she hadn’t exactly waited for his agreement when she announced she’d be getting the alcohol to help disinfect the cut. It was something she’d done often, albeit never for him, because she, too, had the tendency to get cuts. A lot. The fact that he was being so… well, baby-like about it was a surprise, since he’d always struck her as the type who’d suck it up heroically, but it was amusing nonetheless – though she fought back her giggles. She doubted he’d appreciate it.
Narrowing her eyes just slightly, she scooted a little closer when he attempted to withdraw further onto the couch – this was not going to fly. “Hospital bills? 宝贝, you don’t need any of that. You didn’t slice your finger off, you just… opened it up a little bit. Disinfectant, antibiotic and a medical plaster, and you’ll be just fine.” She assured him, taking advantage of his focusing on the threat to reach forward and wrap her fingers around his wrist – yes, he could easily shake her off if he so wanted, but she imagined he wouldn’t – out of concern of where could the opened bottle of alcohol in her hand spill, and because he did seem worried about the wound, minor though it ws.
“Well, I think I’ve already accepted the risk of that happening when I came here to begin with. Now, be a good boy and let me take care of that for you. It’s only going to burn for a moment. You can do it!”
1 to 7.
【 Be Nosy. 】
↳ status: accepting.
1.
No. If I managed to stay a virginafter being married, I’d be impressed with myself.
2.
230. (6)
3.
Not cigarettes, no.
4.
Very rarely. I don’t enjoy alcohol.
5.
I smoke pot every now and again. Other than that, no.
6.
20. Yup. Definitely. That’s the answer I’m going with and I refuse to accept any other.
7.
One small one.
“That smirk is annoyingly hard to ignore.”
[ SEND ONE OF THE FOLLOWING SENTENCES FOR MY MUSE’S RESPONSE ]
Breakfastwas something she rarely cooked – in her days off, she refused to wake up earlyenough for such a thing, and, if working, there was absolutely no time forbreakfast at all. Time for sleep was in short supply, and although she lovedfood above all other things, she couldn’t afford to waste an entire hour (ormore, depending on what she felt like having that day) to cook. Instead, she’dsimply order takeaway some time after the first practice of the day, and shareit with her members. But a promise was just that, and Tzuyu was hardly the typeto go back on her promises, so, in spite of a throbbing ache in her templesthat hinted the effects of the previous evening’s experiment hadn’t worn outjust yet, she was up at 9 a.m. sharp, and in the kitchen way before Sky had thechance to wake up.
Easilydistracted though she was, she did her very best not to allow it to interferewith the process this time, and, when the male did wake up and make hisway into the kitchen, voice still thick with sleepiness and eyes narrowed, slightly,she was more than satisfied to be able to order him to sit down: breakfastwould be ready in just a couple more minutes. It was a matter of pride, afterall, because she’d mentioned the day before that she tended to be forgetful inher cooking: she now needed to prove that she did not burn her foodhabitually. All things considered, she was particularly happy with the finalresult of the day – after repeated tasting, she was quite certain thatshe’d never made a better tasting oyster omelet.
The mealwent by in relative silence, because the effort of actually focusing onthe process of cooking had only intensified her headache, and she couldn’ttruly focus on holding a proper conversation – and he seemed to be still groggyfrom being so freshly woken up, but, with each bite taken, she was more andmore certain that she’d done a very good job.
“Thatsmirk is annoyingly hard to ignore.”
Thecomment made her eyebrows perk up – she hadn’t even realized what shewas doing, and she found herself wondering for just how long had she beenstaring at him with a look akin to the one of a cat that just swallowed thecanary. She would’ve been ashamed, were it not for the fact that she was sosatisfied of her own performance that nothing could cloud her day.
“Well, you did lickyour plate clean, so…” She pointed out, shooting the male a little winkafterwards. “I think I can afford to be smug for a little while, pretty boy.”
@skyreide
“You’ll find a way. You always find a way.” He ruffles her hair knowing just how much she hated it with the amount there was to play with. Nevermind that she pretty much caught him with that sentence – he’ll retaliate by doing something childish like he always did. “And if I do, is that so bad? I told you she was gorgeous. And witty. A crush is a crush. I’ll literally crush you though if this interrogation doesn’t stop. With pillows–”
Eyes narrow and her gaze fixates on the ground as she ponders on the thought. “Okay, do you mean I’m just really nosy or I know my way around?” Her thought process was interrupted when her perfectly ironed hair was tousled and she remembers just why she gave up on the longer morning drill. “I wasn’t saying it’s bad. It’s cute! Look, your eyes are lighting up and forming into little hearts like a boy from a shonen anime.” Upon the mention of ‘crushing with pillows’, she abruptly picks up the nearest throw pillow she could find and raises it up like a shield. “Bring it on!”
Absit omen❀
Weekly prompt chosen: First line prompt. Word of the week: evocative.
Someone must have seen her, because the police were at her door…
♔♔
Send me ♔♔ for a photoset/edit/gifset of our muses. - [accepting]
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