#asteriose

it’s worth it, junha thinks. he’d do this a million times over just to see her happy.

(he’d asked her once: how do you find joy in things that are so little? how do you see the best in everyone even in the ugliest parts of them? it’s not possible. it’s not human.

and maybe that’s what makes rosé one of the best people he’s ever known.) 

he pulls her to his side as they maneuver through the crowd, only releasing her hand for a second when they find a bench and hands her the cotton candy to pull out the park map from his pocket. “what should we go on next?” junha squints at the tiny figures on the crinkled paper, before simply looking up at rosie, who’s paused halfway with the candy to her mouth. 

cute.

(but what he’s really curious about is,

see: choi junha. how do you love someone that’s so unlovable? how do you love someone who has nothing to love?)

for that, rosie is a saint. she must be, for no one ever looks twice at a boy who’s all hard lines and misguided actions, let alone take him into their arms and look at him like he’s the best fucking thing to ever happen to them. only her, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

( 문자: special sunshine girl ) 

send me your url and i’ll tell you:

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– my opinion on:

character in general: rosie is so cute istg i melt everytime :’ ) even though i still don’t know her all that well, all the cute moments i can envision already make me squeal with excitement!! ;u; cal and rosie are gonna be the cutest fucking friends. protective cal and cute rosie = heart eyes *^* rosie is such a lovely muse and u know cal loves cute things, so she’ll have him wrapped around her finger with anything she wants ; )

how they play them: on freaking point, bebe q u q your writing is gorgeous and i absolutely love it, baby!! i haven’t known you for long, nor your muses but from what i’ve seen so far, your interpretation of your muse is completely spot on and managing to capture the essence of a character isn’t easy so,,,, dope muse and writing congratz...... <3 srsly tho, hon, it’s always a pleasure to read your threads and those non-thread replies you write just enchant me all the time ; u ; 

the mun: as cute as their muse q u q a cutie patootie with a heart of gold <3 very very kind, funny and just a pleasure to talk with them when i can ;u; i hope to become close friends with her as time goes on, bc really they’re the kind that are more than worthy to keep as friends!! lovely and caring are the best words to describe this mun <3

– do i:

rp with them: yes !!

want to rp with them: abso-fucking-lutely <3

– what is my:

/ @asteriose

kae’s speeding down the highway fast enough to feel blood in his ears. fast enough to drown out the worries in his head, blur it with lights and momentum. because yes, he should slow down but also he should get to the studio as soon as possible. kae doesn’t have measurements for how he should place his worry, doesn’t know how to handle it when it gets too high and the past rears it’s head. he just knows how to act.

[ sms: roro ] hey, wanna finish that movie you told me about? one message in as he was coming into the apartment, errands settled and stress sliding off like his coat.

[ sms: roro ] are you ignoring me because i’m home late? mature the tension doesn’t really build until half an hour passes. because kae knows rosé and knows how quick she is to agree or disagree, to scold him for his late nights or at least - at least tell him where she is. at least respond. but he also sees the hint of destruction in her, that little push that studying the arts rubs off on everyone. that nudge to the cliff to either drown and soar and not think out the jump.

[ sms: roro ] you okay? need me to come pick you up? he knows even when it’s late that she’ll respond. he knows that even when she’s doing nights at the studio she’ll respond. it’s just how they operate. it feeds the anxiety brewing in his mind well and it eases the short insecurities she’ll throw his way. so when an hour goes by with no response he’s back up. coat on, shoes on, worry gearing up like a steel wall. he gives himself fifteen more minutes, breathing and rationale fighting to gain control - before he’s out the door.

so he’s speeding, speeding and checking his phone, moving but not thinking. worrying and worrying and knowing it won’t end until he knows she’s alright. 

when he pulls up to the studio he’s breathing hard, when he finds his way in he’s breathing harder. he goes to her studio by muscle memory alone and nearly shuts off when he reaches the door. he doesn’t wait for her, moves and moves and moves until the only thing separating them is the sliver of floor from his knees to her arms.