honey-fleshed

girl unmoved

[aidenum-blog]

back to summer

[umryusol-blog]

aidenum‌:

“wow, keep going… i love it when you just keep it so goddamn real and painful.” his shoulders shake gently when his eyes fold along a laughter, palm on half of his face. it rings softly, bleeding into other prattles around them as if it didn’t slip it out in the first place. it all feels natural and unruffled on the surface: no crinkles, no stains, no nothing. it’s as if they’ve only ironed the surface of their relationship down, neat and tidy. too scared to wipe down the wrinkles on parts they care about the most.

the hitch: when you care too much, you lose too much.

“no way? that’s super close.” he mindlessly grabs the drink, his thoughts doing the damage on his tongue. he can’t tell if he’s straight up drinking espresso and water in 1:20 ratio or dirt water anymore, gaze unfocusing on everything but her. it sure is bitter, with the amount of wreathed sentiments shoved into the hollow of heart. her eyes, they’re the same. he almost wonders if they’re still on the same wavelength, too. wishes.

“shit.” there’s another laughter choking him out this time, his lips still holding onto that smile as if to save his goddamn life. the folds on his eyes immediately drop out of sight the moment she throws her last line, though, collapsing him just a few feet away from the pits. he’s scared, but there’s no way he’s backing out now– she did her part. so should he.

“hey, let me be honest. it’s really hard tryin’ to act all cool and hard-hearted on you right now.” he finally takes her features in without blurring all the parts he loves about her the most, that last drag of air still in his lungs and waiting to be freed.

“call me a loser, but i missed you so, so damn much.”

“i know you do.” she laughs like nothing has changed. in a perfect world, she hasn't thought about him at all. hasn't seen him throughout the catalogue of her dreams, in between her wine-wasted nights. hasn’t felt every bit of his presence in the places she misses him the most: yesterday, the small of her back. today, it's the spot just above her elbow. if she closes her eyes, she can still imagine his fingers tracing circles up her arm. she can almost imagine that she's not here, plastered smile like a bandaid over the past few seasons that she wears like big, ugly bruises.

she feels transparent. see-through in all the ways he's figured her out. it's the drop in her face at the end of every sentence. then her voice, petering out like smoke from a blown-out candle. by the time he delivers his last few words, she's spitting out a shaky laugh.

“you weren't being hard-hearted,” she shifts quietly in her chair. toes him gently from under the table. it reminds her of that one cafe in brooklyn. it had been raining outside, but they were too busy drowning in each other to notice.

“i missed you.” so, so fucking much, as her hand drifts across the table, eyes hitting a darker shade of brown when her fingertips find his wrist. please— “tell me you want this, too.”

[umryusol-blog]

cherries in july, summer 2018 @aidenum

“it's too hot—”

she groans, forehead slumping forward in a defeated plop against aiden's shoulder. the fan in his studio whirs on a continuous low, drying sticky tracks of a melting popsicle down her fingers. it's sometime mid-afternoon, mid-week, mid-fucking-hell in the sweltering heat of july. sol quickly finds that the weekdays bleed together in aiden's bed. sunset and sunrise, just like clockwork.

sometime last night, there had been the sunset behind his eyes. bleeding orange and bright and unforgiving. it's in those moments his gaze turns feral, soft hands desperate around her waist, chasing after the sunrise in the breaths she stutters around his fingers. sometime this morning, she had tucked whispered secrets into his sleepy mouth, tongue reminiscing the way his own had found home somewhere on her inner thigh.

everything else blurs into this very afternoon.

“that's because you're still on top of me, sol—” “what else am i supposed to do? sit somewhere else?”

a moment passes in silence. sol with her popsicle dripping down her arm, and aiden with an expression that reads, are you kidding me? his twin bed offers plenty of room after all; had sol not stubbornly decided to squabble her way on top of aiden's chest, maybe it wouldn't feel like she was dying a slow death in the very middle of the fucking sun.

but then again: he's always been her idea of the solar system.

“you can sit right here, sol,” aiden coaxes her in that way he does, voice low, eyes soft. so fucking soft, she has to ignore the way he pats the spot right besides his bare torso. not good enough.

she shakes her head, grinning coyly as she flattens herself completely on top of his frame, ignoring the grunt that deflates his lungs as she licks a lazy trail all the way up his neck. “then i can't do this,” she counters with a sticky nip to his earlobe, mind already halfway gone when she wonders if the rest of his skin will taste like her cherry popsicle.

“whatever you want,” he surrenders with a quiet chuckle, hand leaving goosebumps in their wake as it slips down her back, keeping her close. “cherry popsicles,” she responds, fingers dipping past the warm pillow of his lips. “july forever.” and you. he hums, pressing a silent kiss to her cherry-stained fingertips. that's all i want.

[umryusol-blog]

abeum‌:

“whatever you do, noona… don’t open your fridge.”

it’s jesting but well-meaning advice that, judging by the tremble in her voice, he knows she’ll follow. judging by the way she greets him — if he can even call it much of a greeting at all with the way she steals away behind the door, two stray bedhead-hairs the only indication of her presence — she’s still scared stupid.

stupid. he envelops sol into his arms, the fabric of his hoodie crisp and cool from the air outside. he keeps her like this for a while, listening and waiting for her breathing to slow, rocking the both of them lightly from side to side to the sound of a ticking pedestrian signal. he mumbles by her ear. “you doin’ all right? still need me to go veggie hunting?”

“i swear, abe, the carrots were this big—” is all she offers with her arms stretched side to side, eyes as wide as the part of her lips before she’s burying her nose into his shoulder with a whimper. there’s no time for proper greetings. not when she’s carried along in a gentle sway in the comfort of shared silence, shushed without so much as an utter of a word from him. all it takes is a couple of moments.

and just like that, she’s in calmer waters again.

her lungs remember how to breathe again, heartbeat following in tandem to the slower rise and fall of her shoulders— even so, her arms stay locked in a stubborn cling around his waist. she sniffs once, answering him with a couple nods of her head, voice quiet and half-smothered with her face smushed into his hoodie. “yes, please. but don’t let go.” 

[umnoeul-blog]

past & present

[umryusol-blog]

umnoeul‌:

back to 2013, with @umryusol

( ` high school romances are never as sentimental as you remember it to be, and noeul’s case is no different. puppy love? teenage crush? something like that. if you’re flipping the pages to this particular love story, however, boy– you’re in for the biggest cringe of your lifetime. ) get the fuck off my seat, dork. ( ` there goes the Classic Bully Line: you’ve been warned! ) ( ` proceeds to kick at the leg of the chair, letting it creak on the floor before that poor classmate of his scurries off to god knows where. ) come sit next to me, it’s gonna be a while until the teacher gets here.  ( ` drags the now-empty seat to the side of his own, his prior bearing nowhere to be seen and swept clean to a big, smitten smile. ) ( ` gestures for sol by the classroom door to make her way over, well aware that everyone’s eyes are on him and his girlfriend. yeah, that’s fucking right. his way of warning everyone that whoever lays their hand on her will never see their light of day ever again, guaranteed. )

(/ she bypasses her classroom and the knowing hoots and hollers coming from inside. they’re meant to embarrass her, she’s sure, but she’s so set in her path that she completely forgets to give a fuck. ) (/ pictured is a young sol chin up, hair flipped over her shoulder, hands wrapped securely around the straps of her backpack as she makes a beeline for the end of the hallway. there’s a spring in her step that no one can deny. it’s 8am, and the only thing on her mind besides the homework she’s forgotten at home is clearly ) seobaaaang, (/ waves from the doorway, ignoring the 20-something pair of eyes boring holes into the way she bounces on her heels, squeal trapped behind the natural pout of her lips. ) (/ the crowd parts like the red sea to let her pass through, silly beam splayed wide across her lips as she plops down in the seat besides noeul like it’s her rightful throne. ) did you sleep okay? i missed you. 

[geumum]

in convenience

[umryusol-blog]

geumum‌:

@umryusol

( / 10 pm isn’t an escape for anyone, it seems. blames it on the fact that it isn’t late enough, not the most excited when he sees who he thinks he sees at the coffee-making station. ) ( / mouths a curse, gathering his honey chips as quietly as he can so as to go unseen. the crinkle of the bag helps nobody, unfortunately, earning a grimace and gritted teeth away from where anyone can see. ) ( / sighs, taking one deep breath before turning around and facing her, not really wanting to. it is what it is. maybe old habits should die now, he guesses )

don’t tell me this is a spot for rendezvousing, too. ( / quirks a brow, not minding the bags of his choice of poison so loudly existing in his arms. )

(/ she’d really rather grab her coffee and go. there’s a woven purpose to the black cap hovering just over her eyes, narrowing just so at the obvious crinkle of a bag and an even more obvious silhouette. just amazing. ) no, but i’ll remember to add it to the list. (/ eyes him with her coffee in hand, curious at first. the rising steam tickles her lips, but it’s far from the reason behind her pained grin. ) you’ve really heard about everything, haven’t you.

[752dahye]

feels right

[umryusol-blog]

umhwan‌:

@umryusol

he knocks on the door, groceries in hand. sol should be home already – yeah, he’s dropping in a little unannounced, but he’s been dropping in unannounced for a few years and sol’s always welcomed him in. thank god for old friendships.

though, he hesitates to call their’s that.

on days when space is liminal, when he’s pulled too many hours overtime and his stomach is starting to rebel, when he’s exhausted, and all he can think of is how much he misses sol and her cooking. sometimes, he wonders if she’d feel the same, or if he’s just hoping and wishing for it. it’s been three years, coming into four soon, and he’s spent two of those seeing sol almost everyday. he doesn’t want to push – this is a friendship he treasures, even if sometimes, late at night, he wonders what it would feel to have a key to her flat, hold her like the young kids in itaewon hold each other, and he’s perfectly happy with the way things are now. he thinks it might unbalance them, saying anything about it, when they’ve been right way up for the longest time without needing a conversation about it.

so, he turns up unannounced every other day, and really, is it unannounced if she knows he’ll be here without fail? “sol!” his smile is warm and so is the hug he pulls her into, and it feels right.

she rides the norm of every night after work. habits are easier to slump into when her mind is half-gone, feet up on the table, because she can’t stand the feeling of the ground pressing up against her heels any damn longer. everything hurts and aches, and her eyes burn with the remnants of the kitchen assistant’s burnt potatoes. all she really needs right now is her pillow, and–– “hwan, hi–– oof,” laughter’s smothered thin against his shoulder, fingers lost somewhere around his middle. sol wonders how he manages to show up at her door with the same smile every single time. after all these years, it’s become one of those habits. one that she slumps into with ease, one that’s calloused over in the softest of memories. it’s no wonder the exhaustion that ghosts over her face erupts into a field of laughter at his arrival alone. with a tug, she starts in small backwards steps, waddling them mid-hug into her living room. “i thought i was gonna fall asleep. glad you came.”

[umryusol-blog]

umkci‌:

––– november 2017: the usual ft. @umryusol

( ; a glass of orange juice atop the glossy counter, mid-day sun’s filtered through the drawn blinds. mild, but light-headed. he’s fidgety, fingers marking clear lines along condensation. at an arm’s length, on that very counter: jagged edges, semi-opened envelopes, weighted decisions. in a distance: her petite figure moves around the kitchen, filling space with varying wafts of flavours. something fruity? sugary? a punch of spice? you name it, and there’s a little bit of everything. ) noonim, ( ; begins slowly, contents of that particular letter’s transparent, shared news. really saves him on the how. ) i talked to them just this morning and i couldn’t even say anything… ( ; shifts his hand away from the puddle beneath the cup, arms splayed across white space, pressing face into the crook of an elbow. ) i’m gonna die when they find out. like, emotionally, physically. what do i do ––

(/ she stops what she’s doing, because she’s always been a terrible multi-tasker at heart. eyes narrow through the shards of light slipping through her kitchen blinds, and he cuts through bleary vision easily: a blob of frowns and something more disgruntled washing over otherwise sharp features has her stifling chuckles into the back of her hand. ) you’re not gonna die, dumpling. (/ she’s probably smeared powdered sugar all over her cheek, but really-honestly-truly; it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. ) do you wanna, mm... practice? like–– (/ she sidles up to the kitchen counter, leaning forward with a double prop of her elbows as she peers over at him. concerned, sure, but the fond crinkle of her nose tells him he’ll be just fine. ) talk to me like you would if you were to tell them right now. 

[sowonis]

[aidenum-blog]

back to summer

[umryusol-blog]

aidenum‌:

“you’re right. you were always traveling around– don’t even know why i asked.” with her, it almost feels like he’s choking on his own unsaid words before it can slip out of his throat– looking at her eyes and all. they take him back to the same summer heat but with innocuous laughters and the way she’d crinkle her eyes at whatever one-liner he’s picked up from a comedy show. some muffled ‘thank you’s’ and a coy stare at the bouquet of flowers he’s handed to her that one night. he couldn’t bring himself to look at her smile, because something would prickle at his chest every time she did.

he never got around to finding the quick fix for that symptom.

“it’s all i’ll ever be doing, until i die probably. hopefully, if i can even continue paying my bills before i’m out on the streets.” he crosses his arms, pursing his lips and trying to keep his disposition along the whimsical side. hell if it’s working. “if me looking like another one of those scraggy artists in hongdae makes me look good, i wonder if you’re still living in your memories, sol.”

yikes. a pause at his own words said, then he picks it back up rather quickly. a smile is added as a helping hand to his own stupid habit of saying things out loud, a sort of defense mechanism that even he can’t get around to analyzing all too well. shit. good going, aiden.

“what about you– working for a restaurant nearby?”

“you're not gonna end up on the streets.” old habits die hard in the way her laughter floods her eyes. fingers twitch against the cold glass like they're ready to tiptoe across the table and find home around the bend of his wrist. but she's learning to relearn within the boundaries of her own memories, and reality sets in as quickly as the cheeky tight-lipped smile she offers instead. “but if you do, you'll fit right in, huh?”

she only means it partially. through him, she learns to appreciate the hidden beauty in absolutely everything. it's in the weathered t-shirt she borrows for weeks on end, and the dried flowers she hangs upside down above her headboard. she had learned to appreciate the last lingering scent of summer daffodils as the petals fell one by one on top of her head -- if she could bottle it up, she would, she says. the t-shirt after laundry day, the daffodils, the sweetness behind his ear, and the winter without him, too.

all this fucking space in the world, and all she can do is stare and stare and stare. sol wonders just how much her eyes really give away.

“mhm. over there, actually.” she points yonder in no particular direction at all, too busy following the curve of his eyes and how his lips pillow out the way she likes when he smiles. “well, shit.” she laughs after a pause, short and behind her breath. “you're really, really killing me.”

[umryusol-blog]

@abeum

on most nights the god-awful dreams end with her phone pressed to her ear. it’s half past midnight, and she knows -- cue the knowing squint of her eyes when her phone gives a short buzz, lurks in extended silence as she lets it illuminate the night-blue wash of her room. there’s something about the building anticipation as she swipes across the screen and hits call, the impending greeting a fluttering whir at the back of her throat. there's tranquility in static connection as she sits back and kicks back her sheets, laughter bouncing off empty walls when he finally (finally) picks up. she’s slumping back into a bed of pillows in the next second.

“i think my vegetables are after me,” lower lip juts out as she mulls over the ridiculous train of thoughts her subconscious manages to piece together. “what if they're out there...?” knees to her chest, she curls up against the headboard, loose locks a messy tumble down her pillow, “can you come and check for me?”

[aidenum-blog]

back to summer

[umryusol-blog]

aidenum‌:

2019 with @umryusol​

“you haven’t changed much, huh?”

this time, she brings the bits of new york city back to him. aiden wonders why she’s the embodiment of wherever he’s not at the moment and what he misses, and thinks it’s some sort of divine will shit that people talk about. or maybe it’s the triteness in him that he carries as a photographer, sentimentality being the vital trait of a ‘starving artist’ who feeds on these wistful sentiments. 

ugh, c’mon, aiden. that shit’s so lame.

“not that i changed much either, except i’m as broke as ever. heck, maybe even broke-r. shit sucks sometimes, but at least the food’s good.” he’s never really an awkward one in one-to-one conversations, and for the most part that trait of him stays grounded. mindlessly whisking the straw in his overly-sweet iced coffee, he leans back to the cafe’s rock-hard seat. takes a better look at her and smiles. kind of uncanny how they’re in another starbucks and chatting all over again, except the last one was 6000-whatever miles away. 

also uncanny how she’s back to him in the same season he’s left her in.

“so, what’s the story? hope you have a better reason than me with the whole coming-back-to-seoul shtick.”

“was i supposed to change?”

she moves as though she's in water. slow-motion hands across the cold, cold table and her eyes in a dimly soft focus. her coffee's been long forgotten. traces of its condensation dot along an irregular circle as she tinkers with the glass this way and that. it's a lame excuse to keep her eyes glued anywhere but there, because all sol can think about is how his eyes still hold the city skyline and the blinding sunrays behind it. 

“you're rambling,” she grins, point blank. then has to look up to match a face to the voice, only to remind herself why it had been so hard to come to seoul in the first place. he’s got eyes that remind her of july slumping into august in the backseat of a yellow cab. shy smiles behind closed curtains and strawberry ice cream from his tongue to hers. loud shutters and bright lights, then softer clicks capturing her in the middle of an ugly laugh at the same dad joke he's been repeating for 8 days straight.

was i supposed to change?

“just wanted a change in scenery, i guess. you know i can't stay in one place for too long.” she manages a small smile around the straw she holds in between her teeth. “you look, um, good.” one sip in and she realizes she's really never fixed the habit of letting things sit untouched for a little too long. “are you still taking pictures?”

[umryusol-blog]

i’m v late but hi this is my bean sol, 26 y/o chef who spends 25 hrs a day in a kitchen wearing a chef’s hat that’s taller than she is. under the cut are some basic plots, but hmu if you just feel like brainstorming, or hit that like for a msg from me!

fellow foodies 

recipe testers wya 

‘i’ll teach u how to survive in a kitchen if u teach me how to survive at a bar’

an unprofessional fire(wo)man who will put out her kitchen fires bc idk... does she even know how to use a fire extinguisher (( no ))

childhood friends from busan

friends from abroad who saw her struggle to function every. single. day.

basically

love/hate rls w exes, frenemies, etc. pls give me all the drama

you happen to catch sol just as she comes up w a new recipe and she uses ur arm to sharpie her ideas all :^) over :^)

awkward blind dates that fail

cute blind dates that still fail

who wants to go grocery shopping :^/

someone who will drag her ass to the gym bc what’s a squat

literally anything ok hmu

[leejieun]

IU’s 2019 Seasons Greetings (source).

[e-bae]

Told this girl to text me when she got home… I think she homeless

[kafk-a]

Anne Carson