#malfamee

[ ♂ ] — Sunday. Haydn's day. That was the day he'd sneak out of the house, as subtly as possible, and by subtle it was more something along the lines of him yelling in details how he was about to fuck some girl, before he'd take his leave. And either his family had yet to pick up that every Sunday was his supposed fuck day, or maybe they thought he had finally found a good partner, so good that he was following a thorough schedule.

Or maybe they weren't listening at all. But either way, as long as he made his way out and about without any questions, he was safe. And anyway, how was he ever supposed to explain his weekly meetings in the church's basement with about twenty other men? So sex with a female it was. As he arrived to the door, a piece of paper with 'E.D SUPPORT GROUP' written on was glued to it. A grumble left his throat, hands quick to tear off the sign. Embarrassed, maybe, but they didn't HAVE to be so upfront about such group, right? Every man who walked through these doors knew exactly why he was there, and a piece of paper simply added to the guilt they probably all felt.

He took a deep breath, pulled down his shirt, and walked in. He didn’t take the time to look around- it was always the same fuckin’ faces, the same fuckin’ chairs, the same fuckin’ food, the same fuckin’ sad ambiance. He took a seat, pretending to look disinterested, unfazed, as if his problem wasn’t as bad as the rest. The worst part of the meeting was coming closer, and Haydn could barely hide his excitement-- because truly it was the best part.

He could already feel his tears threatening to fall, and as soon as he turned to the side to hug his neighbor, HE FROZE. 

❝ The fuck? Don’t tell me GIRLS can have ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION, holy fucking shit. ❞

And then it took him about seven seconds to realize that a dick was needed in the equation, before his eyes glared (almost burned holes!) at her lap. If you looked up DISGUST in the dictionary, you’d probably find a definition of the word along with a picture of Haydn’s current face.

text message starters, part 1/? // accepting

send me ”#” for cell phone headcanons about our muses // accepting

what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone

devilchild

what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone

( self-explanatory )

what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone 

the imperial march - star wars

my muse’s last text to your muse

text message starters, part 1/? // accepting

winter interactions

“You know what I really want to this year?”

It’s 11:35 PM, December 31st 2015. They’re at the rooftop of the building, the bass from the music of the party they just ditched heard even this far. They’re both bundled warm, kept warm by coats and mittens they stole from the some of the guests. They had laughed their way silly all the way up the stairs when they found a condom pack and a new year’s resolution written across it. 

Romantic.

   ↪ meme ; status: not accepting !

   She’s never one to act on a whim, often finding the consequences too hindering to her aspirations. One mistake could be her last, especially in the public eye. She had seen too many others rise only to fall to a crushing defeat the moment they grasped what they desired. 

   It was too risky for someone like Jieun, someone who practiced her wave, her smile, the way she’d speak. Each word planned, each strand of hair styled to perfection. She was a work of art once her stylists were through with her, a wax figurine crafted to be the epitome of perfection. Unlike a figure, though, she still had thoughts, a heart, something inside. 

   The other’s words cause no disturbance on the outside, but she’s left mulling over the sentence within her head. Jieun is aware she should never take anything anybody says too seriously, but she can't help but give it some thought regardless of what she's been told. She chooses to let it go, offering a small smile and a polite nod just in case the blonde female happened to be someone important, someone to use later on.

“you won’t do better than me.” ( bonnie & clyde meme !:STILL ACCEPTING )

he’s kind enough to let ms.‘taint-the-fuck-out-of-south-korea’ in his proximity let alone in his ever so humble, ever so sacred abode. he’d wish at least that she’d have half a mind to be considerate to him. and its a shame, a whole lot of shame cause it leads his lips jerking, almost naturally to bite back at her words. 

“oh fucking please aerin,” he starts, smashing down a few buttons to annihilate the opposing aliens virtually waging war with him. his lack of care towards the woman who was clearly hinting for attention he isn’t bothered to give (and hey, playing around with her doesn’t do no harm.) and finally, after tearing his eyes off the flashing screens he finally looks to her, 

he’s looking smug as fucking always. 

but he has a reason to be so cocky, he’s the one at KAIST studying engineering she, she? well she ruined korea’s reputation. 

“it’s you who won’t do better than me, so don’t make me laugh.”