All she could focus on was his hand against hers. There was always something about the way he held it. Her heartbeat raised and her cheeks warmed at the mere touch of his hand. Did he know that it was her weakness? Did he know how much she hated it? Whenever his hand held hers, she'ed lose completely. She didn’t hesitate a second, slowly closing her eyes as her lips brushed against his. The way his lips touched hers made her drawn in lunacy. Had he noticed it a long time ago? 

His words were the worst. It confused her. It made her hate him but love him just a little more. She stared into his eyes, not being able to read them. The dimmed spark was all he showed her. It was all he gave her. It was less than she craved for. Her hands clenched and she wanted to leave. Her mind was screaming run while he had her under his spell.

A smirk spread across her lips before she placed her hand on his nape and pulled him close. She kissed him more roughly in contrast to his soft kiss. Not minding her red lipstick being ruined, not by him. She knew she lost again and she knew she’d have to deal with the aftermath.

she kisses him with fervor and all he can think about is how he’ll have to spend twenty minutes scrubbing his lips raw in the bathroom to get the lipstick off. he’s always liked her lipstick, the way it reminds him of blood against her mouth like she covers everything she says in it. but he likes it on her, and she’s ruining it for him. it’s ironic, he thinks. 

he pushes her back for more reasons than one. “now i look like the joker,” is what he offers as he wipes casually at the corner of his mouth. don’t lose for someone like me, is what he thinks when he looks at his hand and sees lipstick smudges. the thought is an odd point of reference for his actions, considering he seems to enjoy pissing nari off. he grabs her hand and rubs his thumb against her inner wrist, smearing the lipstick stains back onto her skin. 

he loves pissing her off, but he hopes she stops him. 

because sometimes people just like to test their boundaries, want to see how far they can get before they’re shut out. kyuha likes to find those lines, likes to push a little further than he should. but nari lets him win every time. 

Jiyoon scoffed and placed her hands on her hips. She made a face as she mimicked the other with the worst voice possible. “You’re not my mom.” She shrugged and returned to her normal voice. “I’m just saying, if you’re tired why not sleep?” She scratched the back of her neck and sighed, realizing how rude she might have come across. “Maybe I’m the one who needs sleep.”

“ah- a wonderful question from my observant friend.” hanhae spoke grandly to no one. half of his personality was fake dramatics, after all. it didn’t seem to turn everyone in the vicinity off, namely kyuha who was by his side. maybe it was their matching bad hair that lured the other in, hanhae would just like to think it’s his charm. it’s not. the setting feels a little bit like every music video he’s ever seen, empty lot beneath an overpass. how dramatic and fitting.  who let a ghoul have a motorcycle in the first place? hanhae needs the answer to that. “i imagine it’s about as simple as doing one on a scooter.” he doesn’t have much to compare it to. hanhae didn’t exactly get his licence in a timely manner and the rules of the road are just suggestions, right? he can’t help but look at kyuha with an expectant look. did kyuha really except hanhae to test that one out? sure he’d heal from the guaranteed injured he would acquire but the embarrassment was enough to turn him off. how had his anxiety followed him to an abandoned warehouse? hanhae wasn’t sure it had public transit fare but he felt the familiar bubbling in his chest. well you only live once right? hanhae can’t help but dangle the keys before the other with a smirk. “why don’t we do it together? it’ll be romantic.” more like disastrous but hanhae could never differentiate. 

“romantic my ass!” kyuha snorts and kicks his shoe against the dirt, stirring up a cloud of dust that makes his eyes water. he sneezes, rubs the back of his wrist against his nose, gives hanhae a dull look. “if spending the night pouring rubbing alcohol over each other’s bloody bits is romantic, then sure. it’ll be romantic.” 

"and doing one on a scooter isn’t easy, you know. nearly broke my arm once trying that. didn’t even succeed.” he scratches his stomach lazily as he circles around, eyes following the motorcycle all the while. he steps closer and runs a finger over the leather seat. “i’ve paid my dues. but i’d like to see you try. that’s what i was going for in the first place, dickwad.” 

⸢ 🌴 ⸥

           the notion was one that was so fitting that jennie could do all but to resist the slightly upturned corners of her lightly rouged lips. she could recall the visceral world she’d created within her bedroom in the cameras eye for faithful viewers. the lewd, salacious acts she’d committed to herself at their request. all for their adoration. all for their praise. to be seen and cherished by any and all who would devote their time to her elicited such a euphoric response in her comely petite body that for a moment short of a split second, the eyes she reserved for dimmed lights and computer screen dominated the innocently charming chocolate brown hues that looked upon this man before her. he spelled trouble for her image but even though jennie lived for a more mainstream camera and the elitist runways she was invited to strut upon, she was never too concerned with her image. “that’d be kind of dangerous for me right now, i think.” and the smile that held a double meaning blossomed into the virtuous smile she wore as her public facade. “i took a hiatus to not be seen. unlike what people may think, bad publicity really is just that: bad publicity.”

“bad publicity only stays bad if you don’t know how to turn it in your favor.” 

she’s pretty, he’ll give her that. pretty little islander girl with the long hair and sun kissed skin (plush and pink in his eyes). she shares their blood yet bleeds something different, which must be why she took their country by a storm. hawaii gets more hurricanes than korea ever will. jennie must have brought one with her, lest she is one herself. 

he grabs a lock of her hair and twirls it between his fingers just to feel its silkiness. she’s soft in all the right places, sharp where it hurts, something like a diamond in the rough (but she still shines through). he finds himself wondering if he can steal a lock of hair when she’s not looking. 

OPENNESS TO EXPERIENCE

★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ : likes new things ★★★★★★★★☆☆ : likes novel settings ★★★★★★★★★☆ : intellectual/ideas/imaginative ★★★★★★★★☆☆ : enjoys art/culture/adventure

CONSCIENTIOUSNESS

★★★★★★★★☆☆ : self-disciplined ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ : hard-working ★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ : prepared/dutiful ★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ : aims to over-achieve

AGREEABLENESS

★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ : trusting ★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ : compassionate ★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ : empathetic ★★★★★★★★☆☆ : enjoys company

EXTRAVERSION

★★★★★★★★☆☆ : outgoing ★★★★★★★★☆☆ : risk-taking ★★★★★★★★★☆ : excitement-seeking ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ : physically adventurous

NEUROTICISM

★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆ : angry ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ : depressed ★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆ : anxiety ★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆ : emotionally stable

currently trying to find ways to bring my brain back to life. working on things slowly but surely. i know i’m behind. in the meantime, please feel free to hit me up on line @ jeonbu or leave me your id.

✖ — “I am not on their–!” One word to describe his expression would be mortified, cheeks flushing a vibrant pink. Both embarrassed and partially offended, the stylist shakes his head vigorously. “Just because I’m trying to see their side of things doesn’t mean anything, you know.”

“ha.”

it’s cute the way sen blushes brightly at the mention of a word that should be normalized into a young man’s vocabulary. kyuha actually manages a small smile, sitting at the prim of his mouth like it’s intentional and only half-assed. his guts are smiling wholeheartedly, though, in the kind of anticipation only hellfire brings. 

kyuha loves stirring up chaos. 

Nari chuckled and lightly shook her head, not amused with his word choice. “Are you drunk?” Fingers brushing through her hair while a soft sigh escaped her red lips. “What did I do this time?” She said with a dull voice whilst she tied her hair up. Nari was tired of whatever relationship they had. One moment they were friends, the other they were making out while other days they ignored each other completely. Her chin resting in her palm as she raised an eyebrow. “hmm..? Are you going to say anything?” 

am i ever not drunk? is what he wants to ask. “no,” is what he says, and the truth hurts. a beer would help, but he’s empty handed. so he reaches up and takes her hands instead, imagines tucking them away for safe keeping. he likes to keep the things he can hold in his palms and feel everything about a person. 

he likes her hands. he can feel the history etched into the soft flesh and wants to carve his own line into her surface so everyone knows he owns some part of her. he kisses her, soft and short, as a means of substitution. he imagines drinking in her spirit with greedy lips because he’s always been selfish. 

when you’re not sure what to take, just take everything. 

two more bottles of water, a metro pass, an extra t-shirt… where the hell is the aspirin? toeing yet more dirty laundry out of the way, he clears a space on the floor to sit beside his neighbour and continues rummaging through his bag, occasionally pulling an item or two out. with a curt snort, he spares kyuha another glance and retorts, “sure, but then who’d she give all her extra bananas to? she knows i like apples more. ‘sides–” he pauses to inspect toothbrush he was sure he’d tossed out yesterday. “–i’m not sure how much your organs would sell for right now ‘cause you look like shit.” 

there’s a no offence on the tip of his tongue, prodding at the seam of his lips, but he pushes it down with another snort. “ah.” after finally finding the half-empty bottle, he tosses it to his neighbour and begins haphazardly shoving everything back inside. he’ll have to clean it out later, keep only the essentials and discard the excess, but for now there’s a neighbour to keep an eye on, lest he want to wake up tomorrow to a team of paramedics causing a ruckus on the floor.

one too many pills, mouthful of water, strained gulp. the process is scarily similar to his morning routine after a night of drinking, but this time it’s sans hangover. he tosses the bottle back to kyungsoo, snorts when it clips the side of his head. the small movement shakes his belly in a way that makes him rethink every choice he’s ever made. karma packs a vengeful punch, it seems.

“fuck,” he all but groans, arms snaking back around the bucket more out of security than practicality. he feels oddly restless, caught somewhere in between lethargy and a burning itch to do anything else, be anywhere else. “go the fuck home, soo,” is what he says. don’t watch me waste away, is what he means. 

it’s dramatic but fitting. there’s no bite to his bark, eyes half lidded and voice teetering and hoarse. chain smoking and stomach acid does that to a person. this isn’t the first time he’s thrown up this month. the why is different, but the what now feels the same. vaguely. 

ᴍᴇᴛʜ ᴛᴡɪɴᴋ || ꜰʀᴏᴍ ( x ) ᴡɪᴛʜ @frxshxr

you have officially outdone yourself tonight, sean park. murdering one’s parents was a completely different matter ( somewhat IRRELEVANT because they should’ve seen it coming ), but this was a perfect stranger he w a n t e d to woo in every way possible & he’d just blown his only chance by giving out such a creepy introduction ( but he was the king of the creepy & gross ?? be proud of that too, sean park !! remaining in character all the time. SUPREME !! ). 

please don’t go down, sean muttered internally to his WEAKEST self & to the imaginary erection that had sprung free upon gazing at the most beautiful man he’d seen… in the last couple of weeks. probably. he was SO his type & he couldn’t stop pondering on it, nor he could stop admiring the physical features that made this junkie ( you don’t even know, sean ) who he was. UGH, why did he have to open his mouth ? why ruin such vision with INDIFFERENCE ? sean was flawless. everyone knew it. he noticed the way people had to turn around twice to have a better look of what many thought was a myth: PERFECTION.

why are you such an asshole then ? ah… but those eyelashes & messy hair. who told you to have an ideal type, sean park ? 

he ran his fingers through his hair to show off the beauty his DIY dyed hair was. of course it suited him. he was now a RICH BOY ( or at least he looked like one ). somehow. what do i have back home that could be good to offer ? sean now brushed his chin with the tip of his digits & hummed. ❝ UNFORTUNATELY, i am not as hardcore as i should be & i ran out of the crystal i never had just moments ago. i have weed though. cocaine ? you know, people say it’s the drug of the cheap, tacky & poor, but everyone does it, so why live in denial ? perhaps i should introduce myself instead of creeping on a guy that could possibly be straight ( or a cop, for all i know ) & i just blew up my god damned cover. i’m super straight, of course. i am also NOT a criminal or a dealer. sean park is the name though. ❞

super straight. 

at that, he laughs. he doesn’t mean to, but he doesn’t stop it from happening, either. it’s not that it’s funny, but in his experience the proclamation of being super straight usually means something along the lines of not anything close. so he throws his head back, bangs sliding away from his eyes, and he lets his head loll to the side with a slow but purposeful gaze. 

he hopes it burns. 

“could’ve fooled me.” he peeks his tongue past parted lips, lets it drag to the corner of his mouth. “who’s straight nowadays, anyway?” 

it’s a dangerous game, but it’s one he plays well. interest is easy, he thinks. everyone likes to be liked. it’s a human condition he hasn’t found the cure for but has decidedly come to bear. it’s like living with diabetes. or cancer. sometimes you have to make disease your bitch to come out on top, and kyuha likes being on top. so he rolls with it and curls his lips into something resembling a smile. it looks more like a smirk--a heavy smirk that tiptoes onto his face like opposites make phenomenon (i.e. burning ice, fresh rot, living dead, all the things he attributes to himself; it only makes sense that a slow building smirk that packs a punch fits on his face). and with the way the other runs his fingers through his hair like he’s trying to blind him with a dye-job done so right, he thinks he may have won. 

there are always winners in a losing game. to lose is essentially a birthright of his. between keys, wallet, time, people, he loses them all. so when he steals things, he’s really just taking things back in a way that other people might call stealing but he calls justice. 

he steals a long look at the stranger, head to toe without a single inch of skin left unscathed by greedy eyes. it feels good to take the things people can’t protect. he hooks a finger through the other’s belt loop and tugs. whether he’s just confident or crazy (a mix of both, he muses), it doesn’t matter. he tugs a little harder. 

                                  ❛ firefly eyes; lost in time❜

he probably collects people like banks collect money. he swallows them whole and keeps them tucked away, dips into other people and hopes they forget to pay their dues so they can be kept, which is to say that he wants them only when he needs them but hoards whatever (whoever) he can get because power comes in numbers.

                                                                                                                           oc . lit . abt

“Phew, I was wondering if I was walking on thin ice towards a customer complaint. That one’s never fun.” 

Baekhyun blinks hazily under the dusk of the stranger’s face, warmth lightweight but there against his forehead to be sure that, yes, this is indeed a forehead kiss. A flashback of his childhood bed and his mother’s hand on his temple flutters close beneath his eyelids. He has to remind himself that the deliverer is a stranger in his store of adult sex toys –the chaste gesture is a parody to the exaggerated male genitalia replicas on the opposite shelf. There’s a snort tickling his mouth, his hand smothering his incredulous expression behind a palm between chuckles. 

“ It’s the first time I got that one but it won’t stop me from taking it as a compliment. Am I a long banana because I always had a complex about height –you can’t blame me.” The shop assistant beckons his body with a brief twist of his hand, his body once again draping across the counter as his elbow supports his weight against the wood, his chin placed upon an open palm as a blatant grin plasters itself across his face. “Take it as a little gift. Remember me when you’re chewing or using it, who knows. You can drop by next time and I’ll hear your review.”

“sure, a long banana. if that’ll help you sleep at night.” 

he bends at the waist, elbow finding the countertop to mimic the other’s position. his chin rests in his palm all the same, but he skips the grin and substitutes with a flick of his tongue against the corner of his mouth. his eyes don’t quite reach the other male’s, instead settling on the wall behind him, and his eyes are lidded like there’s nothing of interest in a sex shop.