#sydnyz

[yonghq-blog]

past – yong + syd

[ @sydnyz​ ]

  Center studio, she stood, listening to the melody as if submitting herself to the music. The lights on the studio turned brightly and the rhythm pulsed into her. Jiyong stood by the doors of the studio, quietly watching the female idol sway as the beat picked up the pace.   And five, six, seven and eight.. The dance ended, but the music lingered onto his ears, his eyes fixated on.. 'What's her name again?' he thought, 'Was it Syd?', he said at the back of his mind. And before he knew it, silence enveloped the whole studio and he had unknowingly been staring at her for quite some time, a visible smile on his lips.

[withaeyoon-blog]

HAEYOON’S  FIRST  LOVE  HAD  ALWAYS  BEEN  SINGING,      but dancing comes in a close second for her.  when she finds herself feeling completely bored or out of inspiration,  haeyoon decides to choreograph a few things by herself.  it keeps her moving and it keeps her on track,  not losing any inspiration or hope for her upcoming debut.  the theme for today’s random dance choreography though,  is one of the popular  ‘sad boi music’  she hears from her friends in uni.  r.i.p.  by joji can be heard throughout the room with the bass boosted to give her the thrum she wants in her chest.  she moves fluidly,  body in sync with every beat of the music.  what makes her stop though,  is the presence of someone else within the same room that she hadn’t really noticed before. 

          her face flushes red,   panting as the music continues on.      “   i’m sorry,  did you have the room booked for today?  i’m sorry,  i’ll leave now.   “      \      @sydnyz. 

[altarurl-blog]

                    mad man with a magicians flourish     ;     lights of Vegas to the strobe light heart     &.     beacons offurious       ,     neon signs. they exist purely in a world of impulse thought.       ❝    bro    ,    bro i was watching youtube last night     &.   i had an idea.    ❞      a slot machine mind spitting out ichor into the faces of men that can hardly pronounce the names of the old gods they worship in secret.  sometimes their words start to spin like acarousel.     ❝    lets do 100 layers of glue on our face    ,     it would be so funny dude.   ❞     their eyes grow wild with the idea    ,    glue in hand  &.   a camera in the other             ready to make art.

(      ❤      /    @sydnyz     )                

[ynxmshin-blog]

{ °• @sydnyz }

If there’s one thing he’s grown accustomed to was the awkwardly different schedule in which he had to live his life -- or his new life being dead (whatever makes more sense when he truly thinks about it). He’s always been a bit of an owl on his own, burning candles throughout the night whether it was when he was studying for his civil service exam or simply because a manuscript would keep his attention for far too many hours.  Now, he uses the night wisely as well, to cultivate his evergrowing knowledge (still), but also to hunt (whenever necessary) or to simple waste another few hours roaming around.  Namshin is in his room when he hears the steps -- far too loud for his extremely enhanced hearing -- and like a dog, he recognizes its melody, clicking on the manor’s wooden floor. The sound halts, so he assumes on his own long enough until he’s rolling his eyes and allowing them to leave his book to look at the closed bedroom’s door. “Are you going to stay outside all night? Come in already”