BORN UNDER A BAD SIGN

Today a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, there is no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we are the imagination of ourselves. Here's Tom with the Weather.

[xyfxsulli]

JEON JUNGKOOK / #1 booty master of sunhwa academy, provider of platonic ass slaps

[yfxbobby-blog]

tracker

W R I T I N G

– @yfxjaebum – @yfhyosunn – @yfxjiyong – @yfchangmin​ – @dahyunxyf

W A I T I N G

– @yfxyoungae​ – @yfkrystal​ x 2 – @yfxkangmi – @yfxtaehyun – @jiaxyf – @yfxhyungsik – @yfxhyunwoo – @yfxryeo

M E M E S

– @yfxjungkook / 👋 your muse slapping mine’s ass (ofc...) – @yfxtaehyun /  ✈️ seeing your muse in somewhere they didn’t expect to see – @dahyunxyf / 💋‍  your muse kissing mine on cheek – @jaehyunxyf /  👙 : seeing your muse in underwear – @yfxjeon​ /  👻 seeing your muse scared – @yfjimin /  ✈️ seeing your muse in somewhere they didn’t expect to see – @yfxjiyong / 💤 your muse coming on my muse’s bed during night – kiss meme / @yfxhyungsik / @jiaxyf / @yfxkangmi / @yfxsen / @yfkrystal / @yfxwoojin / @yfxjinwoo

[yfxbobby-blog]

[yfxbobby-blog]

fly like an arrow of god, ‘til i’m gone

[yfxbobby-blog]

—metal heart

@yfxryeo / april 2016.

His shoes have worn trenches in front of her door.

Approaching, retreating, turning. Once, he raises a closed fist and holds it still, then turns with a frustrated noise and resumes his pendulum motion. His presence is unscheduled. Whether she’d recognize his face is disputable, he’s just one kid—one in five hundred, money in black credit cards and skeletons in their closets. This morning he read a headline on Facebook about the Syrian refugee crisis and honestly, his bullshit feels so trivial, so beneath notice. (How’s that teenage angst, Bobby? Where’s the body count?) But he’s run into Taehyun half a dozen frigid times today, one more and he’ll explode.

The door abruptly opens. He jumps, wide-eyed, caught in the headlights of her collected expression.

“Um, Mrs. Song.”

[yfkrystal-blog]

( RETICENT )

[yfkrystal-blog]

( * she asks for distractions in the purest forms. normally it’s obsession over academics, over being the best of the best and top of sunhwa. but recently, behind closed doors it is toothy grins and admittedly endearing stupidity. recently, it’s been bobby in an entirety. however concerning that realization was to her — the fact that she’s now crossing too deep into banned territory.  )  — ( * nevertheless, his question reminds her of the reason behind his existence, why she had even risked being seen to ask for a walk—or at least, this was the answer she’s sticking with. it’s a lot more comforting that way, to think of bobby of nothing else but. even so, the baek ho retains her stoic expression, thin shoulder lifting in response. a mental no she’s sure he picks up on. ) “still don’t remember how you got the topographical map of africa slammed onto your face?” ( * her lips twitch slightly in amusement as she catches an eyeful of the bruise once again, earlier’s exasperation fading into a healthy sense of satisfaction ( there were times, multiple, mind you, that krystal wishes she could have done just that—punch him. ) the more she looks on—as if she needed more glaring evidence of his stupidity. ) “you won’t board the flight back tomorrow with a matching shiner will you?”

[yfxbobby-blog]

( her good mood is contagious. he’s relaxed, mind anchored wholly in the present. less than a day here and he already looks like someone who spends their time seaside, skin a shade deeper from soaking in the sun. ) man, i’m trying, but it’s a total wash. ( he chuckles. ) i’ve never lost that much time, but it could’ve been worse, i guess. it doesn’t feel as bad as it looks. ( probably best not to know what kind of fools they’d made of themselves that night. the real miracle is how they managed to find their way back, one bogum short of the full crew. ) says the girl who’s got one too. ( he shoots back, amused. their trajectory takes them inland, past the line of beach pensions and out of sight. intentional, of course. he knows the pattern too well not to notice. ) ( a warm breeze skims off the ocean’s surface, brings with it the taste of salt on his tongue, the faintest scent of alcohol. he looks at her, framed through one eye, recalling the last he saw her drink. the only time, in fact. you’d think she’d look misplaced like this, so far from her usual habitat, but he doesn’t think so. she looks better—happier. ) been drinking?

[yfxbobby-blog]

—first sight

[hmyoungae]

( ... )

“I’m Youngae, by the way. Yoo Youngae.”

[yfxbobby-blog]

Hands hooking under her knees, he eases her up, careful to balance her weight as he straightens. She isn’t heavy, all bird bones and small stature. Though now that he considers it, she could very well be a third year he hasn’t met before. Hard to tell with some people, faces belying their age.

“There we go,” he exhales. “I’ve got you. I’m Bobby. Well—Kim Jiwon, but everyone calls me Bobby.”

His gym bag hangs low and unwieldy, the strap caught between his side and her leg, bumping erratically against him. He takes several steps forward, pausing when realization hits. The sprawling campus is still unfamiliar territory, finding his electives scattered through the main building still a mission and a half. There are maps saved in his phone, tucked away in his bag and out of reach.

“So... Youngae-ssi. I just transferred this year. I’ve got no idea where the infirmary is,” he chuckles, staring down the hallway. “You’ll have to lead the way.”

[jiwonsqueen]

[yfxhyunwoo]

✱ lost+

@yfxbobby

“so…” hands tucked in his pockets, attention flickering between passing faces in the corridor, hyunwoo stood beside the milling students ( among but not explicitly included in their lives; it was the way he preferred it, after all ) and contemplated his question; the one lingering on his lips, waiting for an answer that the first year wasn’t all that sure would come the way he wanted it to.

talking to bobby guaranteed nothing but perhaps more questions, most times.

he spares the male a single look, brow quirked by time the words come out; a rush of sound that makes sense only after silence has followed ( framing it prettily against the din of footsteps that fades around the corner )–”how do you get so many damn girls?”

[yfxbobby-blog]

the question comes as a surprise, eyebrows disappearing under an overgrown fringe. in usual form, his first answer is blithely tongue-in-cheek, unwilling to give it away quite yet, face fully committed into an expression that’s half-smile, half-leer—all creep.

"it's obvious, isn't it? who could resist this face?"

he lift a hand to said face, thumb and point finger framing his chin. there’s a better answer between the lines, but he’s got a question of his own. one wild rumour aside, there isn’t anything to substantiate the claim that he gets “so many damn girls” that he can think of, naturally extroverted personality aside.

"yah, what are you talking about anyway?” eyes narrowing a fraction. “what exactly have you heard?"

[bluetheorem]

Visit Original Link

[yfxbobby-blog]

They want me dead or alive They want me dead or alive, I'm just trying to survive You ****** falling behind You never crossing my mind Put that shit on my life

[yfkrystal-blog]

( RETICENT )

( * the last night in jeju is spent grandly, catering provided by the best the school had to offer in the form of a beach party near the pensions, and though she had arrived with her group, krystal decidedly slips away after dinner. if only to not get herself dragged off in whatever plans baek ho ( and cheong ryong ) decides to spend the last night of vacation. as always, it wasn’t too much of her thing. but of course, lately, if we were to talk about what was her thing…

her eyes lift to catch sight of a familiar male, narrowing slightly at the eyepatch he adorned—honestly, the fact that he even wore it to dinner—and maybe it’s the impulse talking, the inherent need to not return to the pension and risk being around the likes of her ex even more than necessary, or maybe she’s intended on this the entire time but krystal finds herself heading toward the strangely and conveniently unaccompanied third year, cheeks slightly flushed from the devil’s water despite the standard lack of emotion on sharp features ( but her eyes dance in tune with her heart, the tongue behind pressed lips ) — lips parting to speak as she shoves the procured cold pack into his hands. ) 

“hold this and walk with me.”

[yfxbobby-blog]

( he swears he never asks for trouble—trouble just has a way of finding him, and these days trouble looks like this: flushed and pretty, hair loose, the faint bruise on her face taking nothing away from how she looks, washed in warm light. any second now he’s going to start spouting poetry, so he stops himself there. admittedly, he’s in a little deeper than he should be, but there’s no reason to make a situation of it. it’s not the first time, she’s not the first girl, though she’s certainly like no one else he’s ever met. ) yes ma'am. ( a hand pushes up the eye patch, ridiculous but that’s kind of the point. painkillers have reduced the black-eye (massive, shaped like africa) to the nuisance of a dull ache, but the chill of the cold pack feels incredible on bruised skin. ) ( a penchant for brief vanishings aside, he has no intention of spending the last night brooding in solitude. good company awaits at the shore, this little escapade nothing more than a conspicuous smoke break, old vices returning with new anxieties. mid-terms had him in complete surrender, but after the previous blackout, he’s in no mood to engage in anything more than an illicit cigarette, though sleeping on the last night here is out of the question. there are better ways to waste time. ) ( he falls into step with her easily, acquiescence requiring no explanation. ) still not going to tell me how you got that bruise? 

[yfxbobby-blog]

—tough luck

[xyfxtaehyun-blog]

He can’t say he is not surprised to see Bobby approach them (and even quite relieved, maybe, or at least as relieved as one can be while feeling the sharp edge of a knife against them, but anyway). It kind of annoys him though, even if it’s unreasonable to be annoyed by someone worrying enough, someone who, by all means, shouldn’t worry about him at all. What an idiot, Taehyun thinks, wondering why he didn’t just go his merry way. That’s what Taehyun would’ve done, anyway.

The dude laughs as he stares at Bobby, while the other one just takes Taehyun’s phone away from his hand with way more strength than needed. “Hey,” he whines loudly, and feels the knife pricking his skin again, “do you even know who my father is? This won’t-“

But whatever he is going to say is cut by dude number one turning around, staring at Bobby as he pointed the knife at him now, “come on kid, your turn. Gimme the phone.”

[yfxbobby-blog]

Eight years in Chicago, USA and he’s never run into this kind of trouble, but bad luck seems to chase him like his own shadow since he landed in Seoul. Dogged, worse every time. Superstition isn’t a habit and neither is religion, but he finds himself praying, piety conducted more in feeling than language.

He swallows, heart caught in his throat. It’s not the first situation Taehyun’s audacity has left him speechless, or is stupidity a more appropriate word? But there’s no time to assess the situation, neither fight nor flight any kind of viable option. The only thing to do is concede, bend like water and hope the damage doesn’t take.

“Alright,” he says, voice low. “We don’t want any trouble, okay?” 

He’s pulling off his headphones, turning it in with his phone into waiting hands. A small sacrifice to make to get out of this unscathed. His eyes find Taehyun’s in the dark, distress entirely transparent. (Don’t make this worse than it already is.)

“Wallets too. Empty your pockets, faggots.”

[tastefullyoffensive]

[yfxbobby-blog]

//im terrible and requesting all the texts~

↳ reply ✆ for a morning text

( kkt → 삼성애기 ) gmornin’ sleeping beauty, left u sum tylenol

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) last night u told jia that she has great hair

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) ㅋㅋㅋ ur growing up

↳ reply ♔ for an angry text

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) wtf hyungsik

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) wtf

↳ reply  ♠ for a drunk text

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) listne up u little shit

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) iphnone is bettre thn

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) andoird

↳ reply ☏ for a vague text

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

↳ reply  ⁇ for a worried text

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) u alive or

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) i was just kidding u didn’t talk to jia u didn’t even look at her

↳ reply ♣ for a text not meant for you

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) fuck i haven’t gotten laid in months 

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) oh wait wrong # my bad

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) it tru tho

↳ send ✺ for a sassy text

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) well u know wat

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) ur hair looks like shit today

↳ reply ☠ for a misguided advice text

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) hey u wanna hit the gym w/ me

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) wats up with ur right arm dude

↳ reply ☢ for a desperate text

( kkt → 삼성 애기 )DON’T TELL JIYONG!!!!

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) im srs he’s gonna kill me in his sleep

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) and u kno what im gonna do in the after life

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) haunt ur skinny ass

↳ reply ✘ for a text that should never have been sent

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) did you really think i wouldn’t find out?

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) stay the hell away from him hyungsik

( kkt → 삼성 애기 ) im not fucking kidding

[yfkrystal-blog]

( ... )

She resists the urge to do anything else but wait, gaze locked onto his, it was clear what he wanted, what she wanted–but Krystal wasn’t accustomed to losing so easily, not even if waiting–the literal torture of forcing herself still as Bobby’s hand travels further and Krystal envisions further repeated events of last night, of just where she’d like to put his hands–she will resist even if it kills her.

[yfxbobby-blog]

The blade is double-edged, but he's realized that she has a penchant for martyrdom, an almost incredible tolerance for it. She has no idea how endearing it is, the way she commits to every victory. He lacks her taste for ambition, but there's something to be said about a prize that needs to be earned. Hard to get is a bait he takes every time without fail, in spite of the fact she's been both gotten and had.

The threat has her usual marks; mild-mannered, tinged with her habitual frost. A first encounter would only manage a reading at surface level, but he's taken apart at least that anterior veneer. She's a thing built in layers, folded one against the other, thin and many and opaque. But he thinks—dares to think—that he's found a shortcut, a weak spot, a gap in the door that she leaves open only in the dark, a little wider every time.

“Yeah, but you’re not that patient,” he teases, hazarding a little smirk as he leans in a slight, taunting inch. "I get that you love winning, but when it's something we both want—why bother?"

The callous of his thumb traces a shallow path, but he gives her no room to reply. Straightening, all business, he retracts his hand abruptly, settling both on the table in plain sight. The left spins his pen in lazy circles, the other flipping through the reference text, intent on finding the formula that floats blurred in memory.

"One out of twenty-eight, right?" he says, returning her words with an easy grin. “So behave, you’re supposed to be teaching me, aren’t you?”

[jiwonsqueen]

bae

[yfxbobby-blog]

—firecracker

[ynhyunjin]

( ... )

“i’ll seriously transfer schools if this gets out, okay? you’re my friend, right? right?” bargaining, with a trying smile and a hand on his shoulder now; she nods, encouraging, and in spite of her previous outburst, her voice remains fairly hushed.“i know you know i don’t deserve this..  i know you do— and i trust you, okay? okay.”

[yfxbobby-blog]

It's a simple recipe for disaster: smug, overbearingly boyish amusement laced with a faux 'who me?' innocence. Even with obvious intentions, denying a reaction is nearly impossible.

"Aren't you being a little overdramatic here? You're practically made for each other," he teases, but his hands rise immediately, palms up in surrender to deflect the usual punch to the arm that follows. "Kidding, kidding. Honestly though what's the big deal? So he's got a little crush on you, I heard you've got half the first year boys wrapped around your finger anyway."

Young love, truly a miracle.

"C'mon, he's not bad, just... quirky," he says, no better word coming to mind that better encapsulates what makes Hyungsik so very Hyungsik. "And confused. Anyway, I'm pretty sure he'd rather punch himself in the face than say anything about it. He'll get over it."

He has to admit, against all odds there's a part of him rooting for the boy. Belief is an entirely different matter, but he's always had a soft spot for underdogs even if bets are off the table. Even with the Samsung fortune at his back, by Jia's own admission he isn't quite playing his cards right.

"I'm not gonna say a thing, swear it—who would I tell anyway? Kangmi?" he laughs, "bet she already knows. For real though, if he ever gets too much you just let me know, okay? Jiyong and I will talk to him. So don't sweat it."

[yfxbobby-blog]

—flight risk

[yfxhyungsik]

( ... )

After attending to the follicle causality, arms crossed, Hyungsik glared up at Bobby like he was forged straight from the fires of discount store hell . “If this…” He stammered out through clenched teeth. “If this isn’t the COOLEST thing in the entire world…..” Hyungsik weakly lifted his left arm like he wanted to strike the older boy, lipcurling to produce something halfway between a snarl and hiss. “Eeesh.”

[yfxbobby-blog]

That simply stepping out of the campus grounds would be this eventful comes as no surprise with present company. Hyungsik has an aptitude for complication, unparalleled in comedic timing. A stray hand hooks into the back of his shirt, unsettling his balance as Hyungsik tips forward with two left feet, gangly in the same manner as a puppy who hasn’t quite grown into paws. Definitely less cute though.

Crouched like this, there's little impact when he falls on his ass. The bordering branches scrape harmlessly over the fabric of his hoodie and he's up again, shuffling through the narrow opening. Out on the sidewalk, he bends to peer back at Hyungsik.

"You okay in there?" He extends a hand, helping him up and out, grinning at his disheveled state as Hyungsik finesses his hair. He runs his fingers through his own, the strands falling in place easily, overgrown.

"God, you’re so overdramatic,” he laughs. “Your hair looks fine.”

No mention of the faint scratches on his face, intentionally omitted. Leave that for him to discover on his own.

“Alright, c’mon kiddo. Let’s get outta here.”

The night begins under red tarp, in a little street-side barbecue place that neglects to even ask for I.D. when he orders a bottle of soju, voice inflected with a casual confidence that suggest nothing out of the ordinary. They have a first round of samgyupsal on the grill, empty cups on the table.

“Take it easy, I don't want you getting sloshed," he says, grinning. He slides his glass over, tapping the lip. "Yah, you're supposed to pour for hyung."