#aptcryptic

text memes ( x )

Send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT.

> i’m leaving.> tonight.> as in, never coming back.> don’t try to find me.> i’ve had enough.> and i’m tired.> i’m so sorry.

random drama starter ( x )

was it bad that the words stung her or was it bad that this wasn’t the first time he’s told her this? she’d keep asking him what’s wrong but he’d only turn her away either with a slam of a door or if she wasn’t there, the end of their phone call. he’d leave his read receipts on and leave her on read, no matter how many times she’s double texted him. she felt hopeless, scared that he’d throw himself into the dark abyss of drugs just for paradise and an escape. he could drink with her, he could smoke with her, but she didn’t want him to overdose. not like the others wouldn’t kill but at least she would be there with him to keep him safe if it got too far.

it got too far once.

his door was open just a smidge, allowing her to slip in the apartment complex pretty easily but it only put her on high alert when she realized it wasn’t locked. he was doubled over the bathtub, nose bleeding (probably from snorting cocaine) and eyes as red as the sun on a hot day. she wails, her sounds resonating off of the bathroom walls before she carried him on her back and to the nearest hospital. he insisted that she shouldn’t, that he didn’t have the money but she was stubborn enough and still took him. she talked to a few of her connections, making the whole process of making him come back to reality free. he didn’t have to pay her back, all he had to do was recover.

that was another story. but now here she was, standing in front of her door only to be sent away.. again. this time, she dropped it. this time, she didn’t push it on and she didn’t tell him that she was there for him. it was silent, but he knew that she was there-- he just didn’t want her to be there at the moment.

“okay.” was what escaped her lips, unable to hold back the tears she held when he slammed the door on her. maybe he’d open it again and realize that he meant so much to her-- she wouldn’t know where she’d be without him. even if she was a crying mess in front of his door-- she’d wait. she said okay but made no intentions of leaving, dusting off the welcome mat before sitting down, cross legged and on her phone as she wipes the tears away. she shouldn’t be crying, but it just sucked how she couldn’t help him sometimes. maybe it was good she couldn’t-- so that they wouldn’t be too dependent on each other (too late for that.)

she pulls up his contact on her phone, using the sleeve of her shirt to wipe her tears away and then continuing to type something before deleting it.

...

Send “reverse!” to see me attempt to write your character ( x )

his vision was blurry, her shouts were deafening. it didn’t help that he couldn’t hear her at all either– it sounded like she had thrown him underwater and pushed him down so that he could drown forcefully. of course, she would never do something like that. maybe she’d say it, but hyejung was all talk, anyways. 

she didn’t want to try it out- how could she not? sure it had a different smell to her but by god, it made him full when his stomach was empty. marijuana to him smelled like a full five course meal (on a good day) where the sun was shining down and making the cannabis glow in the joint he’s rolled it up in. it was an over exaggeration, but hyejung didn’t appreciate weed the way that he did. he needed to smoke it to relieve stress, she smoked actual cigarettes to relieve her stress (and at such a young age too.) he didn’t mention it, they both stayed out of each others’ businesses when they needed to. she smokes that and he smoked this. no big deal, they were still weaving their way of rebelling against societal needs and entertainment.

don’t do it, stay safe. 

that’s what she had told him on the other side of the line hours before, on the phone, one-to-one conversation for them to understand their limits. she knew about the drugs (it was a mistake, an accident) but she didn’t egg him on further. they were already tired with the different backgrounds that they had at the house, already slipped into multiple arguments that could have been avoided if they weren’t hot-headed and if they didn’t care about each other.

of course they cared about each other.

she had just lost someone very dear to her (was it an ex-liker? ex-friend? he couldn’t remember.) and he had lost someone very dear to him (rest in peace to his grandmother.) they were both coping with different methods and this– this was one of the methods for him. for her, she got a fake id and sneaked into clubs for men to buy her drinks, a little kiss on the cheek for them to think that they’re taking her home before they pass out on the counter and hyejung steals their money for daily necessities. not like he knew that at first, seeing that she was just a dainty little kid still trying to make her way- no judgement though. they were still in the same school system. she was a freshman and he was (keyword: was) a senior.

his eyes looked burnt as he looked up at hye, there were tears dripping down her chin as she cupped his cheeks, shaking him gently. grey, grey? was all that he could hear, everything else was muffled. he laughs, leaning into the gesture as he closes his eyes. he was okay, the high was wearing off. “chillax hyejung, i’m not gonna die. stop crying. you’re being such a baby.” he was joking when he shouldn’t be, so she smacked his forehead and it was something that he deserved, anyways.

ifjlgobeduoui.

what?

icarefsosduy.hyejung, what are you saying?

y’know i care for you.

（ @aptcryptic ; blue. ）

SEND ‘🔺’ + A COLOR FOR A COLOR BOARD OF OUR MUSES            STATUS: ALWAYS ACCEPTING.

                 《 ※ 》     THERE’S A SNICKER that follows suit right after his hand extends out to catch the crumpled piece of paper within palm and fingers. It’s like they were in grade school again and passing notes to each other while in class. God forbid they were ever in the same class together. The amount of trouble they would constantly get in every damn day——being sent to the dean’s/principals office and sent to detention or having to do community service or some bullshit like that.  He unravels the wrinkled up paper and a bright laugh bubbles forth. 

❝  If this ain’t me on the daily, I dunno want is. ❞ In an attempt to smooth out the parchment, once he deems it good enough, slender digits pinch a thumb tack and he’s putting that drawing up on display in their game room on his small cork board. Commemoration of finishing up their game room. 

《 SEND ‘🔺’ + A COLOR FOR A COLOR BOARD OF OUR MUSES ―  》↴

⋯ 댓글 : STARTER FROM THIS POST     지위 : ACCEPTING

A stiffening silence in the air prior to a voice, which seemed so loud in the eerie quiet of a dark night, didn’t feel all too discomforting to Yongguk. There are many things that put him on the edge—set him off and bring chills dashing down his spine. He’s a paranoid guy with copious amount of anxieties; the sound of his fridge making ice at night could have him wondering if there were demons lurking in the midst of his apartment. 

But silence...silence was never one of those. Silence coaxed him, brought him some peace of mind. There are times when his mind gets too loud for him, and admittedly, the omission of noise wasn’t always something that shut it up, but it did work sometimes. 

The proposition served as a rhetoric inquiry, but he answered with a shrug of his shoulders and a low hum of his voice anyway. He leaned back while glancing toward the recent presence beside him, and under the moonlight, his soft smile was shown wholeheartedly. He’s great at masking feelings if you don’t know any better.