highway to hell

❝ yeah… ❞ her tone is sheepish. ❝ i was that ‘marine biology intern’ who dove into the shark tank last month because i thought the cubs were getting a bit too homesick… ❞

▬ This is my first follow forever/appreciation post thing, in all four years of RP. And, to be frank, I’ve never really felt a need, nor gathered enough attachment to do this before. However, I can honestly say that it is also the first time I’ve felt so utterly welcomed, too. Therefore! this is a post to show my appreciation for all of you fools that make my time here a wonderful one. I’ve been working on this slowly for the past few weeks, and trying to ensure I dont miss anyone out (so hopefully I didn’t). Thank y’all for tolerating my garbage-fucker of a muse. I regurgitated some sentimental crap idk man & please overlook this lame graphic? It’s more the content rather than aesthetics that I’m going for this time

Much love, always xox 

A bartender rushed into the room, his eyes remaining in the air as to not meet the gaze of his superiors. He presented Miran with a small piece of paper and she took the slip between two of her fingers. 

“Interesting–” she mused, waving away the bartender before excusing herself from her guests. All manner of fascinating creatures entered her establishment, however, this one had certainly taken her by surprise. Usually such brazen requests were left unfulfilled– Miran rarely heeded to just anyone’s call. She was still unconvinced that this night would be nothing out of the ordinary as she glided out from the velvet curtains towards the bar, but she was curious, and as she witnessed the bartender deliver a salty treat to a ashy-haired woman, she approached the counter with a knowing smile.

It did, however, crumble down when she realized who it was. Jiae rose from her seat, lips parted. Memories flashed by quickly and her attempt at looking anywhere near threatening fell through. She could feel her lips curling into a small smile. “It seemed that fate brought us together again,” she said boldly, surprising the bartender. She then took a step closer to Miran. She was a close family friend and from the times Jiae had the pleasure to interact with her, she was nothing but graceful and kind. At least, for vampire standards. Knowing that it was her she sought out tonight visibly made her less tense, though still guarded.

if shiah could list one of weirdest things she has ever done in her lifetime, it would be the stupid contract with her girlfriend hyojung. she shouldn’t even call her her girlfriend. if anything, they were best friends acting like clingy girlfriends most of the time. shiah would accompany hyojung on blind dates and hyojung would do the same in return. shiah was hesitant at first, however. what if this didn’t go too well? what if the contract backfires on the both of them? or better yet, what if they end up falling for each other? but as time passed, shiah was in too deep to back out. hyojung’s blinding smile was the only reason for her sanity in this damn contract.

the two of them practically grew up together, inseparable. even though hyojung was just a year older than her, shiah felt like she learned so much from her. she even taught hyojung some things too, such as how to drive and whatnot. she genuinely enjoyed being with the older girl, and now that they were in their college years, shiah wasn’t really sure if she was ready to leave just yet. seven years had passed. seven years. and their eighth year anniversary was coming up in a few months. shiah could feel her heart leaping out of her chest, her heart constricting to the point where she almost couldn’t breathe, anxiety coursing her veins. was this what it was like? was this what developing a crush on someone felt like? was it love?

shiah had too many questions and she received no answers in return.

instead of falling in love with her and telling her that she might not be as straight as she thought she was, she did what the contract said they would do: be the other’s girlfriend until they find someone they could spend their lives with. if only the contract had more do’s and don’ts. including living together, buying potchi (their maltese) and growing and caring for the other. if only it had limitations. then maybe...maybe they wouldn’t have extended it time and time again. was it their selfishness that prodded them to sign the contract year after year? or their fear of the other finding someone better than them? or was it something else? hyojung had no answers and so she refrained from asking herself these questions. but it lingered in her mind, begging to be answered.

she was a bit angry, knowing their anniversary was around the corner again. and that she had finally found a guy at her workplace, only to know that he was a complete douchebag last night. he totally wanted to stick his tongue inside her throat way before they had time to chat and be civilized. so when she came home and opened the door (loudly, at that) to shiah’s room, she expected shiah to be startled. “this is our apartment, remember?” she asked irritably, taking off her id and her blazer, leaving her in what used to be a crisp cream blouse and jumped on top of the other’s bed.

it smelled like shiah.

she rolled in the other’s bed -- scent -- and buried her still made up face against her pillow. she could breathe in warmth, familiarity and god. why can’t she just date shiah instead? oh right. because her family and the whole entirety of south korea were a bunch of homophobes. it was a miracle that pride was successful this year and even garnered interest from other countries. “is potchi asleep again?” she asked, voice muffled by the pillow so she pushed it away a little, repeating her question. “is potchi asleep again? i swear, for a four year old she sleeps as if she’s forty.” she pressed her cheek against the pillow, looking at shiah from where she was lying down. “come lay down with me?” she asked, her voice taking on a tone that she knew will get her everything she wanted from the other.

except her love. 

“Well, that’s fine with me. But I’m still going to eat it because it’s made by you.” Oh god, what was she saying? She sounded cheesy like this, as if she and Avery were dating. Not that she was complaining, because she did like Avery. “I appreciate this ‘payback’, so I’m going to eat it regardless.” She chuckled, finding the other’s actions absolutely adorable. The fact that she was cooking for her was heartwarming in itself, she had to admit.

She noticed Avery didn’t seem too focused on the song at this point and on cooking instead. She seemed less stressed, less anxious even, which made Dakota relax a little bit herself. “Ah, I’ll take care of that,” she spoke in reference to the ice cream, putting it inside the freezer. She focused on putting the rest of the groceries away. “You don’t cook for people? Well I feel honored, if I do say so myself.” A smirk spread across her face before she raised an eyebrow at the other woman’s question. “Ah, I do. I haven’t had it in a while.”

Dakota was about to head towards the living room when she glanced over at Avery. At first she wondered if she needed help, but she knew she could take care of everything. But then she debated for a second, finding herself moving closer and closer to the other. She wrapped her arms around Avery’s waist, resting her head on her shoulder. Her heart was beating out of her chest, voice in a very low whisper as she uttered the next words.

“Yes, I don’t,” she answered. She thought of an answer that will make whatever she was doing less meaningful so as to wipe that smirk off of the other’s face. “Mainly because I live alone. But if chance allows it, I wouldn’t mind.” She actually found cooking to be relaxing. It had a set of rules yet you can tinker any dish to your taste. Any dish has their signature taste yet cooked by a different individual, its taste changes. Plus, it made her feel as if she was really at home in her penthouse. Though it had been a while since she set foot on her own house...

Avery busied herself with the side dishes while she brought the kimchi jigae to a boil. Her stomach rumbled at the smell and she found herself smiling. This was going to be perfect. While she hadn’t cooked in a while, she practically went with instinct. As one of her friends told her before, she was practically wife material. She was about to check on Dakota, looking up from the picked ginger she was chopping when she felt arms around her waist and a weight on her shoulder. Dakota’s scent and warmth filled her senses and she let go of the knife, feeling the blade cut the skin of her thumb. She jumped, turning around, which was a bad decision in itself as it brought her face to face with the other.

SO last night, i hit a follower milestone that i never thought i would be able to achieve. this entire blog has undergone so many changes ( both for the good and the bad ) in the past four months that i’ve returned from my hiatus, and i wanted to thank each and every one of you for sticking with me all this time !! i love you all !!

get to know me meme: 5 favorite female biases

A mere scent has the capability of burning through every purified cell found withing one’s nostrils, seeing as the nasal sense relies inches apart from the tasting core, generating a sensitive area to unpleasant sorts of essences lingering through the particles of air. Cigarettes in particular bring the unhealthy strings of nicotine to wrap around one’s figure, corroding through the the walls and crumbling pillars to the ground. He despises it.

The mere trace of what could be deemed as source of sheer disgust from the young male’s part was bond to set off an unwanted and perhaps impulsive recoil, lead through the secluded area within the public park and nearing the border of Han river towards a peacefully settled female by the staircase presenting perhaps the best view of the river. Intruding, yes, he is by the moment pale fingers outline the edges of a camera hanging around his neck by simple striped–the halt of his steps comes upon the recognition of features he was reminded not to forget through media. A singer, owner of songs he has listened to through the cold days under the covers with his lover. Irony to cross paths out in the open. “It may be intruding of me to opine, but I believe cigarettes are quite the killer to a singer’s voice.” Words flow through full lines of rosy lips when his figure crumbles down to settle to a certain distance by the female, chocolate hues landing upon the artist’s delicate complex.

“I have listened to your music before. Quite the beautiful voice you have–it’d be a pity to ruin it through smoking, miss.” Countless have been cases of withdrawing singers due to vices such as smoking, it’d be a pity to lose such sweet voice to the industry through his eyes, that is. 

Hours had passed, surely, but she didn’t know since she had turned off her phone. Her manager would surely have her head for it. But she would deal with the repercussions of her actions later. Ready to light her sixth stick, she was stopped by a voice. It was too close to her for it to be directed to anyone else. And the person wasn’t shouting either. Looking around, her eyes settled on a stranger. Ah, she forgot she put away her cap and shades. He was casual with his words, the way he sat and the brief look they shared. It wasn’t meant to be judging, though she couldn’t help but feel as if it was.

It made her regret smoking all those sticks today. And she hated that feeling of regret more than anything. “It was either this or drinking,” she said quietly in her defense. She put the stick back inside her box and shoved it inside her jacket. About to say something again, she was interrupted by a familiar clicking sound. On instinct, she grabbed for her hat and sunglasses but soon realized that it came from the person siting beside her. She was used to people taking pictures of her everywhere that the clicking sound constantly replayed. Sometimes she just imagined it. 

❝ wait, i didn’t think you were serious, ❞ && at that, skip is laughing. he knows he comes off as an ass, but their words came off as a joke to him, so humorous that with genuine thought && hope behind it, it was actually funny.  ❝ you’re fucking with me, c’mon. ❞