video game ;

cage me within iron bars, recite a litany of your rules. i'll play the part of a good machine; make like adam's ale to fill into any form you wish. you grant my life direction, and i promise to never stray from faith. this is ludus play, and this means you are my god.

set free from the start, i am lost but i am autarkic. i am unstable but i am flexible; i teeter but i also wander. abandoned by the creator, freedom was his price. but how long am i to wonder where to go next, and when do i meet the end of the line? this is paidia, and this makes you ( a ghost of my god ) my messiah.

** my impetus is to live a life of purpose -- even if it isn't one of my own. so, whether i am bound in metal chains or if i dally in swathes of air, go ahead and play me. 

BGM : utada hikaru stay gold

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credit : djdoushitekimi (conceptualaeism)

blush of hawthorn ;

the first look sowed the pip to your creation. each following glance burgeons a design that entwines the shell of your heart and the filigree of your bones. buds begin to flourish from this construction, waking petals brushing against the soul. and even though you do wear your heart on your sleeve, adoration shedding with each step and shudder, you still hope he is blind to the hold he has on you. though, you do wonder -- is it so bad that you have fallen in love so fast?

you caper to jongin's front porch, and each beat of the heart is regulated by the squeeze of flora around it ( the morning bud has well developed into lush verdure across the years ). after knocking to the rhythm of a couplet against the front door, your steps fall back to a presentable distance. your fingers quiver with an impulsive burn that has yet to quell so they opt to fiddle with the belt loops at your hips in waiting.

when you catch sight of jongin again, your plush lips have to thin in order to make way for the recalling of a wide grin. the garden of your heart sighs, and you're reminded of how far you have sunken into the eyes of this very boy. there are two choices in the perennial's maintenance -- you either cut to maintain, or allow for the unkempt blossoms to overflow... 

you, kyungsoo, have never been one for resisting what is natural.

"hi," you say, fingers having fled to the clandestine refuge of your pockets. your smile is fast; bright as you face your sun. "i know i didn't tell you beforehand. but i just wanted to see you."

✴ - An angry text

[ sms ] the impermanence of a human is frustrating

[ sms ] sure, no one is able to stop me from traversing the world nonstop. but my very own body will.

❤

[ sms ] whether you come or go,

[ sms] amen.

✈

[ sms ] what if flowers could fly? that'd be neat.

[ sms ] oh, well i guess i'd be out of a job, hehe ok never mind. 

☾

[ sms ] you are safe to submerge into sleep. i am the air at your fingertips, the effervescence that tickles your cheek.

Send me a symbol, and I will write a drabble of:

♦: Our muses making a bet.

❧: Our muses flirting with each other/one of them.

↹: Our muses training together.

❣: Our muses drinking together 

✇: My muse’s reaction to accidentally shooting your muse.

☠: My muse’s reaction to your muse’s death.

☆: Our muses watching the stars together.

♣: My muse saves your muse/vise versa.

☾: Our muses camping together.

☾☾☾

[ sms ] silence is not famine. it is being so full, that there is simply nothing else to say.

[ sms ] i am overflowing with you.

[ sms ] so as you sink, let me play you an ellipsis.

⚠

[ sms ] even with my basket, the number of your favourite flowers that i collect will not be enough.

kangwoo enjoying the breeze

headcanon 001

'naive' fits him to the tee. delusional, he will find any ray of sunlight even in the most hostile of people and will somehow justify their wrongdoings in doing so. he holds foolish adulation up to anyone; relationships aren't his thing but every string of fate is a love story. 

whe ezes, been busy with assignments recently but i'm finishing the first batch of them in a few days -- so umm like this post to plot and i'll come fly to your inbox !

I do not want to be human. I want to be myself. They think I am a lion, that I will chase them. I will not deny I have lions in me. I am the monster in the wood. I have wonders in my house of sugar. I have parts of myself I do not yet understand.

Catherynne M. Valente, Silently and Very Fast

the instant deterioration of his umbrella had given way for cloudburst to relentlessly pelt at their bodies. kyungsoo tucks the broken parasol under his arm before his hand tightens around the other boy's wrist, at where he glances back momentarily to call out a doe-eyed, cheeky-smiled apology. not straying for even a millisecond, his grip squeezes twice before drawing lu han along at a quicker pace.

when they reach the shelter of his home's front canopy, kyungsoo wordlessly ducks inside, emerging back soon after with two towels. one is slung around his neck, and the other is held out by both of his hands. if lu han makes any attempt in catching the cloth himself, kyungsoo's fingers hold no regard, as they veer to place the towel directly over the other male's crown. "let me do this," he coos, helplessly smitten with the recollection of vibrant alstroemerias and their complementary 'xoxo'. but kyungsoo is too soft, and the gesture seems to drown in vain. the vigour he invests into drying lu han's hair is instead invested into sentiments, as he's much too wary of kneading just a little too hard as to physically hurt him. his hands inch back to his sides, simpering through a smile. "um, i don't want to give you a headache, sorry. you can go ahead."

"um, but why don't you come in?" he peps up immediately, pushing the door wide open to make ample space for his company. "if you're okay with it, you can stay for the night." as if the hard clatter of the storm shelling the roof isn't enough of an indication, kyungsoo ensures to make a display of peering out toward the storm beyond. "it doesn't look like it's easing any time soon."

squall to settle ;

i could bring my shame.