(lost the source)

she groans, rubbing her face with frustration as she looks at the mess she’s created in the kitchen. “foolproof my ass. you’re the one who suggested this, if i have t’tell you the truth.” learn how to cook, a friend of her’s said. so there. she tried to learn how and it just ended up being a flop. so she stood there with her arms crossed, leaning against her counter with tears in her eyes? (hyejung? crying from failure?) it was just too much. she wasn’t a sensitive person, but every attempt seemed to get worse and she was low on groceries. she huffs, rubbing away her tears with the sleeves of her sweater. maybe people were right. maybe she couldn’t do anything on her own and always depended on other people--

no. maybe not always, but she needed some more guidance before she could yell out to the world that she’s independent. she was learning, and she was getting older. people wouldn’t feel sorry for her anymore, being a young adult and all. not like she needed them to since it felt like a burden, but either way would just be an embarrassment to her because of the big ego she has (probably hurt other people for having one so huge.) she looks over to the other, throwing the spatula into the sink with a disappointed look on her face.

( &.ORIGIN, accepting! @seokian )

Huffing, Chanhyun flopped onto the sofa, making a face---clearly dissatisfied with the outcome of her futile attempts. It was a miracle that someone like her was able to survive being an entrepreneur in Seoul, when she could hardly pronounce some of the simplest terms (simple to other people, of course). So, it’s obviously a thrill to be able to talk to someone else who was fluent in English and lived in an English-speaking country for some time of their life. Textbooks never really taught proper pronunciation, so she took these moments to improve her speaking---unfortunately, her efforts resulted in cuteness. 

┖ Meme: Deep Ass Starters

배지연 ▌         “Ah, really?” she inquired her red painted lips curling up softly as she looked at the claw machine he’d been working on. Jiyeon hit his hip with hers as a light indication for him to move as she took her won and inserted into the machine ready for victory. it didn’t take her long to spot a prize she desired. Focused, she moved the joystick at just the right angle to drop... and not collect the plush green Okcat she had hoped to win. Completely defeated and let down by fate, she looked to him brows furrowed. “You’re completely right. This is a fraud, and I’m angry,” Jiyeon noted suddenly disinterested in the game.

between the six shots of tequila and and several beers, fire friday is living up to its potential. the dimly lit bathroom reverberates with strong bass coming from speakers that are probably way too loud for human eardrums, but it’s hard to tell whether the boom, boom, boom is coming from the music or from his heart. both seem to be pounding. 

it’s no surprise that kyuha, who lives off of psychological highs via endorphins, finds ways to take the evening that much further. someone makes a side comment about the girls on the small stages looking like mini-king kongs trying to climb the empire state building, only pillars are not meant to be stripper poles and cage dancers are usually sloppy at best–not that this club has any cages, but the girls have taken it upon themselves to give a good show (for free, he might add, but technically they’re paid in plenty of attention). 

“i know, they look like this,” he chokes out through laughs, climbing onto the counter. he stomps around, arms swinging and hips following like he’s reenacting a gorilla trying to yike by itself. one wrong step has his foot slamming down on one of the sink’s handles. it snaps clean off. he goes toppling down onto the floor, long and slow groan as he pulls himself up. a stream of water his him square in the chest, and he stares at the spurting sink for a beat too long.

“wow, you really flooded the bathroom.”

he gives the stranger a blank look and steps to the side, situation sinking in enough for him to finally move out of the splash zone (sink, not urinals–he clarifies this in his mind and tries not to laugh). his hand pats his soaked shirt, glad he can’t hear the squelch over the booming music. 

❝ careful now, 오빠... or you might end up being labelled ‘annoying’, too! ❞ there is a spark of mischief that lights up at the back of chaeyoung’s eyes as she quips this with a rather cheery tone, flashing him an innocent smile to match. she stirs her coffee absentmindedly with one hand and pretends to scrunch her nose up at him, letting out a soft huff. ❝ this is the first time we’ve managed to meet in eons and you insult me straightaway? some things never change, mm? ❞

     “Do you know the rest of it?” She asked with a perk of her brows, lips forming a grin. Maybe not so intense to fit being an into to a horror film, but he wasn’t off about the dark theme of the rhyme. “He went to bed and bumped his head. He couldn’t get up in the morning~” She continued, her voice automatically taking a higher pitch, like it does when she’s singing to the children at the daycare. “Quite morbid, right? A lot of these old nursery rhymes are. Isn’t that interesting?”