It’s only with a single tugging does he manage to pull Chaeyeong onto ice, himself keeping balance while others skated around, the rink not being his alone today but nonetheless still rather empty. Granted, he’d made sure they would be able to be here when others weren’t filling up rink, at least not enough to where they couldn’t establish their own space to have a little practice beforehand,”Want to go around a little?” He hums, pushing backward so naturally it was like a second nature to him, just as much as walking or breathing; his gaze leaving hers for a brief moment.

   Okay, maybe it wasn’t so bad, and maybe he’d been a little dramatic in his own thoughts but there had been and always would be a lingering selfish desire to have younger around him more. More than was possibly feasible given they basically breathed the same air daily, along with sharing the same space to the point Yeong would even invade Guk’s space in bathroom while going through morning routing. He couldn’t count how many times he’d stuck in front of male brushing teeth, back pressing to broad chest and relishing their obvious difference in height to be able to rest top of head underneath chin. 

  Perhaps space wasn’t the issue but lack of it. He couldn't’ deny that he’d been rather clingy these past four months, having made things official with someone who he couldn’t dream of being without only becoming a driving force with his more obsessive nature, hence his obsession with Jeongguk. Funny how the mighty will fall, he’d become the one thing he swore he’d hate till the end of days, a clingy soft love sick puppy that couldn’t take their eyes off their lover for more than a few seconds. 

  Even now, as morning lingered on and he found himself, perhaps, as his softest hours, appendage would reach out far too eagerly to wrap around younger’s nearest limb, in this case his arm, and bury face deep along crook of neck until he could only breathe male in; leaving no room for another scent to rudely invade nostril. Almost moaning at the sheer bliss from being able to do such a thing every day from now on, call him a sap if you must, but such simple happiness as this was never something he imagined for himself.

   Growing up had been hard enough, especially when traveling back n forth had left no possibility of making lasting connections in his youth, Yeong had practically given up on thinking he might find that ‘something’ or ‘someone’ who might break him from whatever ice cold spell he’d put himself under after his first heartbreak -- yet, here came one man strutting in like he owned place to begin with, like he owned him in ever possible conceivable way --which he did, now. 

Bold any which apply to your muse & feel free to add to the list! ** remember to REPOST, DON’T REBLOG.

//bcc @haestro //fwd @kngyz ; @joenjnvg ; @hwamira ; @oculvus ; @aekure ; @kimdevl ( unless you’ve done it, then you don’t have to/if you don’t want to )

COLORS // brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. burnt orange. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey.forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. blood red. mint green. ivory. seafoam beige. emerald green.

ELEMENTS // fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. storm.

BODY // claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. thin. lean. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos. antlers.

WEAPONS // fists. feet. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. legs. scythe.

MATERIALS // gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics.

NATURE // grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds.mountains. cliffs.

@oculvus​

    melts into a gooey puddle ~~~~

@oculvus​

     I love you moar 💕

[ sms : monster🍆guk ]    ↳ I swear to ALL THINGS FUCKING UNHOLY I WILL WORK YOUR HARDER THAN A MULE IF YOUR ASS ISN’T HERE IN THE NEXT 20 MINUTES 

[ sms : monster🍆guk ]    ↳ but, also, did you get my green tea I asked for ---

      iphone is held within his grasp, tight hold loosening as back presses itself to cool surface of mirror walling, his breathing hot, short puffs of air, locks already damped with hard earned sweat. He probably should have waited to run through routine (for the fifth time), but a side of him that screamed for perfection wasn’t having it. Not when it’d proved so hard to nail that final move of choreography, something that had he not indulged in such repetition of steps it would have ate at him all night; keeping mind aware of said mistake through out night and into wee hours of morning. There is a burn in his lungs, aching wheeze that comes occasionally behind facemask he adorns, such a cute an delicate design, hand picked out despite his otherwise intimidating demeanor. Jaxon wasn’t one to be ashamed of his own tastes nor grow bashful over petty details that others might decided to pick upon. Male having learned long ago that cruel words held no meaning when tossed to a brick wall. 

    He also wasn't type to simply ditch practice hours due to a sickness. It wasn’t as if he were dying and rest could wait until bone ached and body could take no more. Besides, he needed to get out of loft, the big and otherwise spacious interior seeming too confined and overbearing as of late -- a place he didn’t always desire to stay inside of constantly. It was partially reason why he’d called this ‘emergency’ practice between himself and previous dance partner, someone he hadn’t dabbled in said art with in what seemed like too long, at least for his tastes. Laying down to his side now, music continues to blare from speakers, resounding in sound proof room, echoing off walls as he goes through sent messages and a few recently downloaded apps in order to pass time until younger male would make his entrance. 

    There is a part of his mind that comprehends the inconsideration of his last minute decision to have Guk come from his own home to studio without explanation aside a message sent four hours ago in all caps telling younger to get his ass there or face consequences -- soon following his newest bout messages he’d sent five minutes ago. Yet, the more lingering and selfish part of his brain seems to take control more often that not, leading him into rather hasty and ‘dick-move’ like situations. Impatience was a trait of Jaxon’s, at least when it came to gaining something from outcome. 

   In this case, he wanted to indulge in something he enjoyed, dance, but despite relishing the sense of solace that he gained in studio, there was a part of him that had longed for more company. Hence his immediate desire to gain attention from one person who loved dance as much as himself, the only issue being fact Jaxon had not kept in mind younger might have other plans than entertaining him. A sadly drawn conclusion, alas, it wasn’t as if people were toys for him to keep, even if he wish sometimes it could be as such -- a much more twisted part of him peeking from back of his mind.

      She didn’t like it, not much, the smell of liquor, flowing in unnecessary high amounts, it itched in her nose, easily so, she wasn’t much of a drinker, never had been, probably she couldn’t even take a lot, neither did she try to, a glass of red wine, on those occasional evenings, when watching some show at home, maybe while working, it was for the mere luxury of it, for the taste, not to get drunk. Obviously, for that reason, she didn’t frequent bars often, hardly ever went there, not unless she was invited, asked out, just like it was the case that evening, called out by one of her classmates, asked to join him for a drink, dressed in proper clothes for once, not in her training clothes, rather classy, too, after short research upon the bar, seeming to be on a higher level, not just a place to get drunk, making it easier to lure her out.       Though, in the end it had been in vain, her coming out, ditching her relaxed evening at home, instead greeted by a message, shortly after having settled down at the bar, she had ditched her healing time, her classmate had ditched her, a message with whatever excuse, she had already forgotten about it, instead sitting there awkwardly, shoulders stiffened from the unused environment, one drink ordered for the necessity, for not just walking in and leaving, now standing in front of her, mostly untouched, nearly dropped even, upon suddenly being spinned aside, looking into a face that seemed vaguely known. Head working on it, trying to remember where she had met him, her back arched naturally, teased by the gentle touch, easily felt through the thin fabric of her black blouse, caused after years of dancing, reacting to a partner’s movements, going along with them, it wasn’t much different now, feeling his fingers sliding down, along her spine, distracting her thoughts only for a tad.       His words got the memory back, that day in the practice room, making her tense lightly, reminiscing his actions, breaking into one of the studios, catching her changing clothes, not like it had mattered much, there had been enough people seeing her change, but being accused like that now… Actually, it didn’t make her show much of a reaction, gaze steady as she looked at him, voice calm, answering, “You were the one breaking in. You could have knocked.” Because, one thing for sure, she had locked the door back then, he shouldn’t have been able to intrude like that, thus not feeling much, only distracted by the sight of the bottle, placed in front of him, making her wonder for a moment, whether it was his, whether he had planned to empty it. “Instead of burning them, you should have put more effort into improving your grades”, she replied, fetching her phone, upon hearing it ring, finally, the proper explanation to her being alone, some family incident, naive as she was, she just took it in, wrote back her greetings and well-wishes, not even looking at the drunk, more focused on her keyboard. “And breaking into foreign places is illegal, not fun. You should concentrate on other things and not think about how to become a criminal.”

   no fun – it seemed like these days his life had become a dull echo of what it used to be. A constant tug and flow of repetition that would eventually cause him to snap. He’s so certain this is his fault alone, always seeking out a sense or normalcy among his every changing lifestyle, yet, whenever he happened to take hold of it or even make attempt to grasp for too long – he allowed it to slip, break a part so easily despite previously wanting it. Things seemed like this now, his nasty habit to find fault in even the simplest of happiness in order to make himself miserable once more was beginning to claw it’s way back to the surface. This was just him, Jaxon Lee, a boy who’d rather suffer and take the pain than love and nurture that his bones so subtly desired. Even now, he’s drinking to excess without reason, not having woes or any worries to lead a misfortune most would wish to drown away. No, if anything he’s bored. Bored with himself, bored with what was going on around him, with every situation that could possibly manifest itself in such a quaint bar – in his seemingly ‘quaint’ life. That alone seemed a good enough concept to drink to, toss back a few more shots in order to forget that he indeed needed to wake up tomorrow morning and press play once more, forever stuck on repeat.

  Still, he’d found something interesting or dare he say someone interesting in confines of shallow building – it’s bright lights and shimmering surroundings too fancy for even his tastes; but a place to drink was a place to drink. He’d shrugged it off, all attempts of those trying to start up casual conversation, casting their gazes to female to his left and deciding not to bother her when she seemed to keen on whatever message graced her phone. Had he been a little more sober and hadn’t lost a single contact somewhere in the middle of the night, Jaxon may have grown nosy. Alas, he’s concluded female to be ditched, alone in this place just as much as himself, and that seemed reason enough to begin his subtle ‘harassment’ of a familiar visage. When feminine tone hits his ears, finally gracing him with retort, it’s enough to earn a smile; a subtle notion of interest, of amusement. There is a crinkle along his eyes, palm slipping from her mid-back to rest along the back of chair to which female remained seated, when he goes to speak once more; chuckle dying out in his throat. “Ah, you’re right.. it was me in the wrong, hm?” he must be drunk, if he’s agreeing so quickly to his own fault, not bothering to arguing.

[ ➤ ] my muse accidentally punches your muse in the face. @kimdevl

To start off, it’s too damn dark. 

   Scattered lightening storms no doubt being the cause of the sudden power outage and Jaxon having been one to get caught in said storm while on his way home from work. It’s safe to say he’s drenched, dripping from head to toe as he made his way through lobby doors of his rather expensive loft’s residential building. He’d received a few sympathetic stares from those that had been smart enough to wait out storm in lobby’s accommodating surroundings that remained light by cell phone and candles alike; others just sticking downstairs because they were fearful of the dark. He probably would have stayed downstairs too had he not two things on his mind. One, being the fact he needed to change clothing from his drenched clothing, and the second being he had TWO kids to check upon upstairs.  

     Ah, upstairs. It became a painful reminder that he needed to climb ten flights of stairs with duffle bag in tow; slung over his shoulder in sloppy manner. Had it not been from the AC being knocked out too, he may have been shivering from the automated breeze, alas, its damn near boiling, as he enters stairwell and he sets off (partially grateful) in a soggy mess upstairs. It doesn’t take long, however, not as long as he originally thought after he got a pacing of taking two steps at time(something he’s going to regret with soreness come morning time).  Now, Jaxon isn’t one to grow fearful, at least not when he knew the difference between reality and the more ‘supernatural‘ aspect of things – yet, when he hears a noise coming from other side of door of loft door he’s feeling a bit reluctant to twist key into lock and proceed inside. He’d  seen a video like this once, had he not? A part of him understands it’s better to face one’s fears rather run from them, while the other part was more or less debating leaving aegi and deul to fend for themselves. Alas, he’s won over by reason, an that burning desire to get out of wet clothing, and finds himself opening door with a subtle click of lock. 

   He nearly jumps out of his skin when calico kitten, barely past his ankles, slips by him with a soft meow. It doesn’t take long for him to come to conclusion it’d been aegi scratching at doorway; no doubt alerted to his arrival home and not some strange being he’d probably have to sell his first born to in order to survive. “…shit.. aegi…. what the fuck..”  she doesn’t seem to mind the fact she’d almost killed her second owner upon his arrival home,because the kitten seems satisfied with his (near-death)entry and scampers off once more to do ‘kitten’ things. “…I swear, she does it on purpose –” he mumbles, more or less grumbling at the fact he almost had a heart attack and coming to realization that he needed to lay off the horror related themes for a while if he was going to live a peaceful life. “ one down… one more to go..” uncharacteristic softness in his tone granted as dark orb scan into nearly pitch black loft searching for familiarity with a forming hum in his throat. nearly kicking off his shoes at entry point and shutting door behind him, nimble digit reach for mobile in order to illuminate a little more light in front of his now weary steps. 

[ ◈ ] my muse makes a drunk confession to your muse. @kngyz

     Intoxication to the point of pointless blabber has more or less become a common occurrence for Jaxon these days than he’d like admit. It wasn’t as if he really NEEDED to drink to rid himself of unpleasant thoughts, because there were no unpleasant things to worry about (at least not these days). It was to cure sheer boredom, more often than not, an excuse to lose his otherwise keen sense of balance and rather analytical thoughts that swarmed his mind daily. He needed a break, occasionally, from routine that itched at his skin like some sort of parasite, reminding him that indeed the once prince of rebellion and smart ass comments had grown – boring. He doesn’t like the life of responsibility or that which causes him to take the ‘adult’ perspective in situations he’d rather jut punch his way out of and worry about – well, never. 

   It’s why, like most endings to a long day, his liver seems to thank him with aching madness whenever he happens to find a bottle of liquor in his hands; uncapping it to drink from the top like some type of barbarian rather fill a cup like a normal human being. 90proof Vodka – it reads, chuckle spilling past his lips no doubt carrying to those patrons bedside him in dimly lit bar, soft sound otherwise going unnoticed. He’d end up shit faced, no doubt, in a matter of minutes, if his track record was any proof of that; feeling a tad tipsy after four of five shots already. Sheepish grin forms along visage, a soft hiccup falling freely via ample lips that are briefly flicked with a quick swipe of tongue; gathering a hint of what’s left of a lingering taste.

   With appendage slipping behind chair of one beside him, it’s urged to turn, just fraction enough for a dazed pupil dilated stare to meet opposite belonging to female he’d undoubtedly seen before. He’d always been good with faces, not so well with names. It doesn’t take long for palm to smooth it’s way along slender back, digit drumming to female’s spine in order to gain her attention further. Jaxon had always been touchy without a hint of alcohol in his system, his culture shock coming to Korea after spending a good 16 years upon American soil hitting him hard upon finding out it was deemed ‘inappropriate’ to touch others so freely, much less invade their personal space. Alas, he’d found it even more entertaining to make others uncomfortable, to see them squirm, be it under a gaze or a touch; his more sadistic side showing itself.