#i doubt i'll be able to sleep now because i am full or rage right now and i want to go murder my father

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[bitchkay]

When I get an art studio (IF I even end up getting an art studio‼) my family will literally never see me again

Cus listen WHEN I GET A JOB-- listen

Not even just about the money to yk pay for the studio but having something that's taking up most of my time‼‼

Yall will not see me

cus look I need a place a work, no doubt about that

Not even cus I need the space (even the I DO need space which is VERY scarce at the moment) however but I'm currently working out of my bedroom. My 11 feet by 12 feet bedroom. The paintings(PLURAL) I'm currently working on are 3ft square. I have maybe 4 feet of workable space, not including walking space cus I don't have walking space right the now. I'm using 2 easels to work on my paintings cus the easel is too I dont wanna say flimsy but the size of the painting it doesn't sit sturdy on one so I'm using two. Also finished paintings leaned up against my bed, my desk, the wall and tv I dont use but my mom gave it to me and its functional even tho it's one of them older TVs that's big as hell but I hooked up my Xbox to it and put crunchyroll on it so I can watch anime on the tv but the thing is I have use it for that in quite a while but hears the thing my paintings literally block the tv screen

Anyway were going off topic, point even though my 4 feet of workable space is more like 2 feet without space to walk it's not even about not having space

It's more about having an actual space to work not just work I do in a space

Cus it's hard to focus and really get in the zone when I'm here cus-- well first of this is my bedroom!!

And second this is my house, not you know my art room or something

You know I sleep here, I eat here, I relax in here, I masturbate in here like--

And I hate being distracted I'll be working on something and my mom will call me to find something for her, trust when I get back to my room I am not working anymore in hate I was probably seething with rage while finding the thing for my mom and now I dont even wanna look at a paintbrush and will proceed to do nothing for the rest of the day and dont even try to talk to me after that either not cus I was called or that I was asked to do something, but because I was taken out of the moment, distract me from what I was doing and believe me I have murder on my mind

As a result of this usually I dont get alot of work done and look if my parents ask me to do something I'm gonna do it like my parents are getting older, they work all day I know theyre stressed I know they're tired and if I can make their life slightly easier I can do that, if they ask me to do it but I'd also like to be able to work without be angry at the fact that other people live in this house

Plus I'd like to not enable my dads weight gain without being accused of being a "bad child" and "being mean" just cus I said I wouldn't get him a bowl of ice cream or two cookies

Maybe getting an art studio would be my way of getting space without the full weight of moving out

Cus yes I do need a space to workout but really I just need a space

During school I would be there for morning till night whether there was people there or not sometimes even on weekends cus I knew I could take advantage of the space and as a results I got an absolute shit ton of work done cus that studio was my work space and I liked actually have a place where I can work, even if I dont get alot of work done it's an area and environment where I know I can and will work on something

I just graduated almost 2 weeks ago and this week was the last week what we could really take advantage of the studio and supplies, I actually picked up the last of my stuff this past Tuesday and I'm kinda like what do I do now??????????

I also need a table

Like I have a desk and a sewing table but I need a table that's at least as wide as the painting I'm working on rn or the one currently on the easel(s) cus the way I'm doing it I need to lay it down I need to put it flat to do what I want to do with it but I don't even have space to put this mf on the floor, I barely have space to roll my desk chair in front of my easel💀💀 neither my desk or sewing table are big enough for my painting

Honestly this is probably cus I like to work big

Well I can even say cus i have alot of small paintings

More like more recently I like to work bigger or rather the goals of the paintings I'm doing just require a larger canvas

Either way I'm kinda in a place where I'm realizing a lot about myself and the way I work and what I'm doing where I would benefit from an art studio,it would also be easier to clean if I simply just didn't have all these obstacles that at the m are immovable die to there being no where more practical to put them

Moral of the story an art studio sounds like a such a good idea

And look I'm in no particular rush

At this moment, at that particular unemployed moment this is NOWHERE near a short term goal ok I need a flow of income before i can seriously look at what i want, what i need, what I can do, what I cant do, what can accomplish, ect. ok were still in the "if"s even if I want it to be a "when"

But IFFFF I get an art studio, probably bot by myself, split it with a few friends, imma be all up in that bih😈

[ricaffeine]

𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐎𝐧𝐞

an: i'm sad because of hyunji drought and this is helping me cope :( but fr if tvn decides to make hotel blue moon then yeaji needs to be in it!!

also very annoying, i can't reply to comments bc this is a side blog (bruh wtf tumblr, i'm so sad should i make a new one?) reblog if you feel like it and my asks are open if you wanna chat 🖤✨

CHAPTER TWO

Weekdays at Seoul's National art gallery were usually the same. Buzzing curators dealing with hot-tempered clients. One thing or another was typically going not right and art directors cried about their wrong coffee order.

Although today was not the usual as to the crowds of bubbly news reporters and dazzled art critiques swarming up the wide place. As to Munyeong on the other hand, she was not pleased to the slightest.

"Just smile at the cameras, don't forget about the paycheck you're getting today." Sangin repeated himself for the fifth time. "Don't cause a scene, just think about the money."

Ah right. The paycheck.

As to The Nightmare Garden was bid off for over ten-million dollars, all of today's fanciness was dedicated to her, nation's celebrated female illustrator. However in all honesty, Munyeong barely liked her so-called masterpiece, but considering the amount of cash it will make her, she could be appreciative for the sake of it.

Behind her oversized sunglasses, Munyeong glared at her pesky manager– if looks could kill, he'd already be eleven feet under his grave. Sangin shut his mouth.

"Let's just get this over with," she simply responded, hooking off her eyewear then strutted into the hall with her long legs. Eyes whipped at her and cameras started to flash intensely, almost blinding her and Munyeong wondered how much those little pests could afford her if they got her blind.

And so the event played on. More pictures were taken– as if they hadn't blind her enough cheerful compliments flowed along with the spring breeze. The insincere joker smile she mastered whilst she met her million-dollar client– according to Sangin a hotel owner, though the woman did not have the looks for it– and the glass of filthy wine she almost had a chance to taste if Sangin's sixth sense was not so creepily fast.

Another dreadful two hours later as the dusk had set, hitting the edges with its golden flare, everyone had left. They got their articles and Munyeong will certainly be getting her pools of cash.

To her displease Sangin had informed her to wait as he had to take care of some paperworks she doubted he went to bribe the press into censoring her quoted inappropriate words. 

Nevertheless it was not her bother. She gave his plead a second before storming off to the complimentary section of the building.

Luck on her side, for nobody was there and she was able to grab one of the wine bottles with her– as for a fact it definitely was not stealing.

"Don't be shy, I know you want it."

Munyeong stopped within her steps as soon as an obnoxiously familiar voice echoed from the gallery she previously was in. Curiosity taking the lead, she peaked through the corner and had to muffle her own snort. Stood there, nation's art historian with the sharpest tongue– Choi Seojin.

She finds it hard to believe that his articles are highly known around, or even relevant, when his mouth is full of complete shit. However not disregarding the nastiest tea yet– a frightened girl seized under him. Her hands were locked, frightened eyes grew larger as the man spewed out nasty things.

Instantly, she took out her phone to film the disgraceful scene. Munyeong grinned to herself, reminiscing the rage she felt last time when he mentioned about her mother, and how her irritating manager had interrupted her before she could've sent him down the stairs to Satan.

The man reared into the poor girl's cheek when she attempted to fight him off, and Munyeong's smile dropped.

That piece of shit.

Munyeong entered the room, arms crossed, head high. Her wedge heels clicked against the hardwood as she let out an unamused wow.

Mad dog– what she personally thinks he should be called– 's head whipped at her with wide eyes. Like a child getting caught of lying.

"Oh my. Your hobbies are quite interesting Mr. Choi. Talking shit and sexual harassment?" Munyeong spat. "The girl looks like she'd rather kill herself, why are you even trying?"

As if he thought he could get away with what he just did, mad dog released his foul grip on the girl. Munyeong clicked her tongue and tauntingly held out her phone.

"Oh no, don't bother pretending. Judging by the looks, that won't even favor you at this point." She spared a glance at the quivering girl. "Why are you waiting? Go."

Shakingly and with thankful eyes she nodded and left, her footsteps filling void of silence before it coated the air again.

Mad dog snickered, as if there was something to laugh about. "Don't mess with me Ms. Ko. You know me, I won't die alone."

"Certainly I'll drag you and Mr. Lee down with me. Why do you think they call me the suicide bomb?"

Munyeong walked towards him and spreaded a smile, though even dogs could tell you shouldn't push her further. "You mean the bastard you can't fall down without dragging everyone else with him? Why?"

"I can destroy your career with the tip of my pen, I'm sure you know." He gave her a look, panning out his hand. "Now if you hand me your phone, I think we can compromise something."

Munyeong unraveled her arms, eyes hardening at his next sentence. "You think so?"

"Nation's beloved artist turned out to have antisocial personality disorder. What do you think will happen when people find out?" Mad dog sneered. "Her mother who mysteriously commited suicide–"

"Shut up." She warned. His words lit up the flame from their last encounter, adding fuel to her burning fire. Her head pounded, hard. For a moment she had hoped that if he proceeded as she said, then things would not have to get ugly.

"And her father? Spending his last days in the psychiatric hospital."

But men never listen, do they?

Munyeong tightened the hand around her bottle and striked it at him with full force. The bottom part crashed the wall behind him– just above the hung painting- glass shattered as rich burgundy stained its way down, smearing all over. Its taste fused with the air and Munyeong glowered at the creature who dodged her flawless aim.

"You crazy bitch!" He yelled, scrambled on the floor. But Mad dog was quick to lunge at her, they both hit the ground, stumbling as her open purse had been knocked away– and Munyeong's eyes landed on something very specific.

She was quicker, getting on her feet and spared the bastard a strong kick in the groin, leaving him groaning as she reached for her pen.

Her favorite calligraphy pen– its lining was stunning, coated in shiny teal with hints of gold, but most importantly, the dangerously sharp tip. The way it writes like reaping out blood from your hand– hence why it is a favorite.

She hawled back over and he screamed at her, though she didn't hear him. Her head was light as she felt blood rushed through her veins. Munyeong raised her arm and struck it back down.

Die.

Both of them froze. No, not her and mad dog, but him.

Deafening silence had lied between the walls and there they stood, eyes pierced into another's souls. Hers burned like fire, but his were dignified like the deep ocean.

Droplets of blood trickled down his forearm and splattered the floor, staining the rolled up sleeves of his crisp white shirt. What a waste.

"Let go. You can't kill him." The man– still with a bloody pen graved in his palm said.

Munyeong couldn't help but scoff, especially after that fucking bastard had just strangled her. "Don't be dramatic. I was just going to give him a few scratches."

Well maybe that's not entirely true.

Rough scrambling erupted underneath them, but when Munyeong turned to look, the mad dog had just ran off, like a lost puppy. Angrily she bit her lip, close to drawing blood until she felt the man draw his own hand back.

She watched as he did. The way he carefully slid her pen into his jacket and brought out a black silk handkerchief. Very rarely, she'd be astonished by something, and now it's him. Though she found it quite difficult to understand him– since when do you interrupt another's stabbing session by screwing up your own hand instead, and also the audacity to tell her she could not stab somebody?

So lost in her thoughts it took her a few seconds to realize her pulse was not pounding anymore.

"Did anyone not tell you that it is basic etiquette to not pry into someone else's business?" Munyeong said– seized the napkin from him, and began to tie a knot. She shot him a glance.

No reply. The man simply stared at her.

"Hmm?" She raised a brow, amused at his slight flinch when she tugged a little harder.

"Don't stress it too much, my manager will take care of our little incident." Munyeong chuckled as he proceeded to ignore her. "Do you know what? There are a lot of people in this world who deserve to die. And some very thoughtful freaks secretly take care of that, so clueless humans can sleep peacefully at night, completely unaware. Which one do you think I am?"

She dropped his hand, anticipating for his answer. Flares of light shined through the blinds, sharpening at his strong features and she noted his small– yet devilish smile.

"A clueless freak."

He finally responded, leaning towards her. His eyes traced her face, gazing down at her lips for a second too long, before their eyes were locked once again. "And of course you will have to pay, but at what price?"

taglist -> i could not tag some of ya'll :( @anotherdush @callmeashipper @ourcoffeeaddictme @nothingcreativeyet @pancat @hotstuff-benswolo @lookingatthesunset @evielovesfood @waywarm @gloster @hello-79 @ailander