moved!

finished switching blogs ! i’ll be following a few people soon, but if you want my new url, feel free to shoot me a message <:

▼ @mvseology

maybe taking the train during the busiest part of the morning was not a good idea.

hyewon liked to walk places whenever she could. take the bus, even. ride a bicycle when she was feeling environmentally conscious—which didn’t happen too often, sure, but it was still an option. less so when her job took her to the weird places of seoul. occupational hazard of being a stylist: she went where the sales were most of the time, hoping to nab some new items to add to her client’s wardrobe for cheap. sometimes there were no sales, just networking and schmoozing. the more owners and designers liked you, the easier it was to dress your client.

but when she had a bona fide star in tow, walking seemed out of the question. the train should’ve been too, but hyewon didn’t earn enough to spring for a cab to take them to the store. maybe she could’ve made other arrangements if she’d known he was going to tag along, but this had been a spur-of-the-moment thing. hyewon usually worked solo, or you know, just without a famous actor trailing after her.

god, she was surprised no one had noticed him yet. as far as disguises went, it wasn’t her best one. a black baseball cap pulled low over a pair of oversized shades and casual clothing. any fan would’ve been able to recognize him, but he’d insisted on joining her. said it was important for him to participate ( who knew why ). hyewon didn’t mind, exactly, but… it was unusual. “you okay there?” she lowered her voice and turned to him. “it’s pretty crowded—i hope no one notices us.” the last thing they needed was the mob to grow into an even bigger mob.

[txt; grassy] i never said i didn’t like it i was just surprised over the reason why you chose that color [txt; grassy] it looks good on you though i can admit that [txt; grassy] how is spinach heard worse than grassy though?? [txt; grassy] anyway, no. i can’t. there can only be one ricky i know and that is me. sorry.  [txt; biggest fan] don’t worry about it, though. i came up with my own creative contact name for you. 

[txt; grassy] ….  [txt; grassy] did you literally get red hair because i have red hair?  [txt; grassy] smh  [txt; grassy] should’ve kept your green hair. now i need to think of a new contact name for you since you’re not grassy anymore [txt; grassy] now you’re like [txt; grassy] me [txt; grassy] but nicer 

relationship meme | accepting !

YOOSUNG + SEJEONG ♡

i. on some level, yoosung never actually believed sejeong was similar to rika in any way. they are ( and always had been ) two completely different people, and his feelings towards both were also different. yoosung acknowledged he was projecting an image of rika onto sejeong despite that because of a part of him was aware of it and did it consciously.

he used to think no one cared about him for him. the rfa did because he was a member and rika’s cousin besides. his LOLOL friends did because he was a good player and a guild master. his family did because they remembered what he was in the past and didn’t like what he had become. with sejeong, none of that really mattered. she cared about the kim yoosung she spoke to to with no strings attached. no expectations, no obligations, no thinly veiled concern or hand-wringing about “you used to be—”

and it was something only rika had ever been to him, this unconditional pillar of love and support, so he immediately felt like sejeong = rika because he couldn’t fathom that someone else could care about him like that. but sejeong wasn’t rika ( he knew that ) and he was scared of what it meant if she wasn’t.

yoosung regrets all of it now: the fact that he explicitly told sejeong she reminded him of rika, the fact that he didn’t think anyone in the rfa honestly cared about him, the list goes on. even if he was confused and depressed at the time, it’s not an excuse. especially because… it was fairly obvious early on that yoosung had a crush on sejeong, and he wishes he’d just embraced it instead of trying to turn it into something else.

▼ @rvsetum

what are we?

there is a sleek silver ring on his finger that doesn’t belong to him. shouldn’t—it is a relic of years past. jaebum is not the same man now as he was years ago. he doesn’t know if he can be. doesn’t know if he wants to be. his younger self was foolish and optimistic, believing in promises of forever. life doesn’t work like that; it’s a lesson hard learned. but seulgi isn’t the same person she was when he left, and jaebum recognizes that now. she’s stronger now, hardened. he wonders if he did that to her. he wonders if he should apologize for it.

( love. he would’ve scoffed at the word before, but if this isn’t love, what is? )

he would be lying if he said her ultimatum didn’t leave him shaken. the deeper parts of his mind understood they couldn’t remain in flux the way they had been, but he resented her for driving him into a corner despite that. still, it hadn’t occurred to him to leave the ring in the box. rejecting it was out of the question. but every time he attempted to broach the subject with seulgi, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. talking is not his forte and this was above and beyond a simple conversation.

so he waited and planned and now the day is finally here. his fight or flight response tells him to forget the whole thing and flee as fast as he can, but seulgi said she was fighting for them and so should he. hands gripping the steering wheel, he waits parked outside her office. jaebum sent her assistant a message asking seulgi to come down and see him for a quick second. hopefully, she should be down anytime now. once she’s here, he can whisk her away for their surprise vacation, hoping his actions will convey all the things he can’t say.

( ... )

Teeth sink in. So easy. Of course it is, it shouldn’t surprise Jongdae that Yixing isn’t resistant to his fangs. Yet, it feels so jarring to break the skin of someone who, for as long as Jongdae could remember, has seemed indestructible. Impervious to taunts, to bullying, to long days full of hard work, and even longer nights spent training. Strong and unattainable; Yixing, it turns out, is made of glass and he too, can be broken.

Jongdae, you did that. 

it doesn’t hurt. yixing almost wishes it did.

yixing rubs his mouth, painting his lips red with his own blood. it’s wanton, enticing. red on white, white on red, take me, bleed me, ruin me—

he offers jongdae no resistance. not when jongdae grabs his shirt, not when he pushes him to the floor. the tiles are pleasantly cool against his back, but despite it, yixing’s body floods with warmth. jongdae’s warmth, he thinks, and wonders if he’s leeching it off the moroi. but hasn’t he always? perhaps not literally, but jongdae is softness, sunshine, a warm blanket on a freezing day. compared to him, yixing is an impenetrable fortress. a silent dungeon. “i care,” he says. spits it out defiantly though jongdae is right—he has no right. “i’m selfish when it comes to you, and i care, even if it is futile.” it doesn’t matter anymore.

yixing stares up at him, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows in… anticipation? fear? his pulse races, but he cannot isolate the emotion behind it. his body wants the rush. he wants the rush. but anxiety twists his stomach as well. there is no going back. a simple tap on the shoulder won’t lift jongdae off him, a signal that yixing has had enough ( he hasn’t ). “don’t keep me waiting, your highness.” he pours the last of the venom he possesses into the taunt, goading jongdae on until he feels teeth against his skin and—for a moment—relaxes. it is much easier to submit than to fight.

and then—

release.

a gasp inadvertently escapes his lips. sharp pain is dulled by the sudden high yixing has come to expect, but it’s… different. strange. more raw and furious, a heady sensation threatening to pull him under. teeth clenched, he forces himself to ease his breathing.

don’t lose yourself.

but you want to.

another gasp. his throat is parched, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth. can’t breathe, can’t think, don’t, don’t stop—

and god, it’s jongdae, not sooyoung. jongdae, the one constant yixing has in his life, the one person he can count on to be there. the one person he was fine dedicating his life to until—

but there is no room for bitterness now, not when yixing’s fingers are winding themselves in jongde’s hair, pulling him closer. not when his back arches, offering him more, deeper, take it take me—

▼ @eternalle

olympus is strange.

but any realm outside his own unsettles him. hades rarely ventures beyond the underworld when he has a choice. the souls under his care are not allowed to leave; it is only fair that as their lord, he should be bound by the same rules. but there is peace in the underworld too, comfortable routine born out of a well-organized system. arrivals, judgements, punishments—save for a few intrepid heroes who seek to circumvent the place’s laws, and they are dealt with easily enough. he never wanted it ( and it is disarming to recall that ). he never wanted this place he now calls home, and for all that he’d wished it on one of his brothers, it is a part of him now, tied to his soul. hades is the underworld.

and so olympus is zeus. perhaps that is at the root of his distaste for the place. olympus is zeus, golden, glittering, merry, divinity and grandeur and debauchery under the same sky. hades’ brother is his antithesis in every way, and the less time he spends around him, the better it is for both. for this reason, his official visits to olympus are limited to one a year, but this is not official in any capacity. in fact, he hopes to leave unnoticed if he can.

he has eyes for one and one only. she is the only one he would brave this place for. shrouded in darkness, hades waits outside of demeter’s home, blending into the shadows as best he is able. the passing gods and spirits who do notice him find their eyes directed elsewhere and their memories wiped. one of the muses, melpomene, promised she would deliver his missive to persephone, asking her to meet him out here, but time has passed and he has seen no sign of her. too long and he will have to leave, defeated. thanatos rules the underworld in his stead, but every minute spent here is one zeus could discover his presence—or worse, demeter.

( ... )

but she didn’t want to ding dong ditch him. it really depended on if he was awake or not (she doubts he is, but the boy was full of surprises). but she didn’t want to stay there forever and keep on ringing his doorbell. that’d be too much wasted effort and she didn’t want to be a bother to him. being a nuisance to yoosung wasn’t something that appealed to her. even if they were together, she still didn’t want to make him think of her as annoying.

not knowing what to do, she decides to stand patiently and wait for a sign. if there was complete silence, she could turn around and leave. but if he opens the door, then she’ll go in. it was simple enough.

he’s trying new things. sort of.

the kim yoosung of the past was the type to be up at three in the morning playing LOLOL with his friends, a can of phd pepper beside his monitor and the glare of the brightly lit screen highlighting his deepening dark circles perfectly. going to sleep before four am was impossible. with players from all over the world, the early hours of the morning were his only chances to kick ass. so what if he had to sacrifice much-needed sleep for it?

but that’s the old him. he thinks. the temptation to log into LOLOL before bed (just an hour, he promises himself) is great, but yoosung isn’t going to break. he’s a new person! with new goals, new responsibilities, new outlook on life. and, you know, it’s really hard to play LOLOL when you’ve only got one good eye. so. complete overhaul of his habits. new kim yoosung goes to bed early after changing his bandages and wakes up at six so he can cook himself breakfast and lunch. he doesn’t nap through his classes or fail tests. theoretically.

the truth is, adjusting to a new schedule is harder than he thought it would be. most of the time, it goes like this: he goes to bed early but spends a few hours scrolling through his phone and messaging people. sleep comes at around one, if he’s lucky. he wakes up at six but doesn’t get out of bed for another hour, just staring at the ceiling in the meantime while contemplating his life, and then has to rush to get to morning classes on time.

self-discipline is tough.

this night is tougher than most. he’s still awake at three, having spent the last two hours tossing and turning in bed. joshua once said too much stress leads to an inability to fall asleep—yoosung wonders if that’s true. he has less stress in his life than before, but, hm, that’s not right. it’s a different kind of stress now. caring comes with its own side effects. he rolls onto his side and squeezes his eyes shut once again, hoping that counting sheep will help.

but the ringing of the doorbell jarrs him out of his pastoral mindscape and pulls him to his feet. yoosung’s apartment is small enough that he can hear it loud and clear, and he’s alert enough that he knows he’s not dreaming. but it’s—who would show up at his place at this hour? grabbing a sweatshirt from the foot of his bed, he slips it on and shuffles to the door.

someone completely unexpected stands on the other side. “sejeong…?” he blinks, rubs his eyes before letting his hands fall to their sides. if this is a hallucination because of all the phd pepper… maybe he needs to cut back. “sejeong,” he repeats, still unsure. his visitor is definitely her, but why? “i-it’s not like i’m not happy to see you, but it’s three in the morning and,” he glances down and winces. “i’m wearing purple boxers.” 

but sejeong’s not the kind of person to do something without a reason, and that thought spurs him into action, ushering her inside as he asks, “did something happen?”