( … )

► SMS: OPHELIA.      ー feeeel the volcanic eruption with every bite!      ー spicy. but not that spicy. i like chicken in its glory of diversity.      ー the best part was the chicken biting shots. i was well fed for the day.

delivered. 11:48 pm.

► SMS: OPHELIA.      ー wait. shouldnt you be sleeping..

[ ♂ ] — Haydn, he was the kind of guy who’d never lie. Conditions applied-- dick size ( a hardened dick was always a little bigger than its turned off counterpart, so technically he could have the biggest one without ever knowing, because no girl turned him on enough, elementary science!! ),  money-wise ( it was all relative ), and when it came to protecting someone. This time? Boy was protecting his dad from the painful truth of knowing that his son was taking his car to sharpen his voyeurism skills at the mall ( cue Haydn trying to convince everyone that high school girls with their short skirts were obviously just asking for it ).

Tutoring children in piano-playing in exchange of great amounts of cash was good enough to seal the deal.

His driving skills weren’t too drastic; there was the usual dry brake at either the stop signs or the red lights because his eyes were to focused on some woman’s ass wobbling into his rear-view mirror. Or the typical slowing down technique so he could yell out a few slurs compliments directed at a girl’s chest. But overall? A great citizen.

So great he even picked up girls for other reasons than to get the soul sucked out of him for the sake of a few bucks-- he was a good guy, y’know. So maybe the car-rental wasn’t exactly to check out students in skirts, but it was part of the path. Because going to pick up a university student ( ew, they were always just too.. philosophical. ‘Suck my dick’ wasn’t an allegory of how life ends when pleasure starts-- or something ) whose body defied her words ( because dicks cannot grasp mixed signals!!! ) wasn’t as entertaining as he thought it would be. So maybe he stopped for a few minutes, close to an hour, at the mall, whistling and winking away his male dominance.

( He’d rather lose it there than with the “ university student ”. )

( Though the opposite could be said of his virginity, if he still had it. )

But it was the waiting that ticked him. Should he, again, try another move on her when she would get in the car? Asking sounded really fucking dumb, though she did kind of look that easy, y’know. Unless he’d purposely never mention anything about dick-pleasing-- that would automatically turn her into a puddle of sexual desire, that’s for fuckin’ sure!!

❝ Y’know, if you trained your pussy muscles half as much as ya’ did for your brain, you’d be twice as attractive. That’s maths for you! Some women, they shove in jade eggs ‘cause they don’t got any dicks that want to help ‘em flex. You wouldn’t wanna become a jade egg lady now, would you? ❞

( house of cards meme !:STILL ACCEPTING )

who would’ve thought? no, jude has always known in a sense, his precariousness has always put him in edge, has always conjured up some image of her in association with something no good. his apprehension and her charming baby face only makes him elude to such thoughts. 

“really now?” maybe there was some sort of edge, or excitement to it. maybe it was that baby face and things were coiling down a (as she said,) ‘very grey area’. 

he supposes it’s in human’s anyways – y’know the desire for some sort of excitement despite the danger. they’re situated at some gala that’s been rehashed into a repetitive jam of pin-striped suits, clinks of glasses and boisterous laughter of unlawful, greedy exchanges.

“that’s good to know.” it’s good to know that the woman he’s relatively attracted to with heavy, heavy, heavy unease won’t bite at his not-so-legal luxuries. (although, he’s always had a thought that she’s much like him, of the same kind and all.) it’s exciting! humans always find it in someway enticing to do bad things. “it’s just bribery though.” 

( house of cards meme !:STILL ACCEPTING )

celia, celia, celia. pretty celia. hearing it off her pretty lips and sharp words only amuse him. and why? well, sehun lacks in shame, he’s human after all and embracing humility is far more mature than most others could stomach– so there’s no need for the ‘supposed’ pink twinge of a blush on his cheeks. 

his pride says the hot cheeks don’t look too good anyways. 

embarrassment doesn’t exist in the confines of his body, there’s no such thing for it in his blood. (he says this of course, with the arrogance and mind set of an ‘alpha male’.) “hentai mags?” he’s looking at her, lids drooping lazily and a smug-for-no-reason grin on his perverse face.

oh sehun, twenty, genius star boy extrodinaire, extreme pervert, yadda yadda yadda, KAIST, shameless, blah blah blah. you get the gist. 

       “sometimes, she’d..”

       “..and the paper on the walls?”

       “did he look into the cellar?”

       he was astounded. for some minutes he remained quiet— couldn’t have done no more than he already has. or rather, to say, without the energy of. he stirred his wine glass, still mindful of the various, muted conversations. at his shoulders, the people kept talking, and he hadn’t been engaged in much to say. the music in the restaurant was a bland evening song on repeat, making up for the overhearing. he made up his mind, considerably a little disorientated, as he sat among the folks who ate, drank, and socialized redundantly. his stare was empty. his purpose on an invited outing was vacant. he found no significance. there was very little drive, no push. they offered the refilling of his glass, and he smiled. later then, did he excuse himself with his pay enclosed in a checkbook.

       previously: he had seen a young woman. he saw her once and once was enough. once was enough to relive a fleeting memory of a love he has yet to forgotten. to his eyes, she was as young as ever, still as beautiful from the last day of their parting. his last sip of wine rendered him drowsy, though he will not forget. it’s been so long, who would’ve known that he’d find her once more?

       he smoked. lit up a cigarette, asked an idle person to his side for the help with their lighter. he inhaled and exhaled, crushed the bud and tossed it to where disposal was appropriate.

@foxglowe | Peter Pan (2003) Starters (not accepting!)

Pushing back the sleeve of his white collared shirt, Jongin takes a good look at watch on his wrist before he looks toward a large grandfather clock on the opposite side of the restaurant. When suspicions are confirmed that no, his watch isn’t ten minutes too fast. Jongin crosses his arms and allows his gaze to skim over the faces of the patrons seated at tables, looking for the songstress that was due to sing— right now, actually. Eventually his eyes land on the owner who taps at his own watch impatiently— a signal for Jongin that he should start playing. This does nothing to improve the mood he is in, but he uncrosses his arms and positions his fingers at the keys.

“Why bother volunteering your daughter to sing if you don’t have enough fatherly discipline to at least make sure she shows up?” Jongin murmurs through a fake smile. The smile disappears the moment the owner turns away to attend to guests.

“Discipline. that’s what fathers believe in.”

   ↪ meme ; status: not accepting !

   She has a feeling that using the word ‘everybody’ is an overstatement, but she chooses to keep quiet, a small smile tugging at her lips. In a way, she would like to think the same for herself; however, she knew that in her position there was no possible way for everybody to love her. It was still a nice thought, a nice dream, something that could never happen.

   What a delightful reality that would be. A reality someone like Jieun didn’t deserve in the slightest.