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#i think it's funny to have him be such a snob about literature and poetry and be the exact opposite with his music tastes
nullshocked · 5 months
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🍪🍾🥃 for Jack 😊
Odd OC Asks
🍪: What is something that's sentimental to you OC?
So owing to an upbringing where he wasn't allowed to really own much, Jack has a tendency to hoard things. Any small gfits someone gives to him (cards, trinkets, ticket stubs, all of that) he tends to hold onto in a little box. He never expects anyone to give him anything, so he's touched when it does happen.
🍾: Does your OC believe in luck? If so, do they have any charm or ritual they do before a stressful event?
Not particularly. I think Jack leans more fatalistic than anything, though not to an extreme degree.
🥃: If your OC was in this universe, what would be their favourite show/book/band/social media platform?
I apologize for the psychic damage I am about to inflict on people.
Show: He definitely likes dramas and probably prime-time television. I think medical dramas in particular would really get to him. (Grey's Anatomy?? idk i don't watch these much)
Book: Lover of the romantics, so definitely a fan of Austen/the Bronte sisters/etc. The classics in general. Modern novelists like Conrad and Joyce. I think this is the area of his life where he is the biggest snob when it comes to what he consumes.
Band: Pop music apologist who listens to top 40 radio almost exclusively. And when he isn't listening to that, it's sadboy indie shit. I think someone (probably Virgil) could nurture an appreciation for 90s alt-rock and grunge though.
Social Media: Has an instagram he uses to post #aesthetic cell phone photos of shit he finds. He never posts selfies. He has a very good reason to never post selfies.
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jae-canikeepyou · 4 years
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| muse | j.jh
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pair: jaehyun x fem!reader
genre: art student!jaehyun + art student!yn
a/n: thought this on a whim whilst reminiscing my art portfolio, so we’ll see how you’ll like this with yuno in it. not the best i’ve written but hope you enjoy reading 💞😉 ~j
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with jaehyun, there were three things that happened uncontrollably. one was he caused your heart to skip; two, your chest to feel all giddy; and three, your stomach to capsize. why you may ask? it was his very presence in the art academy which had heads turning and lips to whisper words of awe. he was labelled and called a prodigy.
be it in any medium of art, he was blessed to have such a talent that his parents thought it’d be a waste if not enhanced or put attention to. even your professors favored him and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t jealous. despite his princely looks, he could sometimes be a total snob. he’d be in a good mood the first hour and then changed completely in the next. oh the duality, you couldn’t understand him at all.
though question marks continued to fill your head, let’s just say you had a tad advantage compared to girls who were overly thirsting for him; he was your classmate, a major in fine arts. sometimes you unconsciously found yourself sniffing his perfume each time he helped you with the shading of portrait drawings you worked upon. he was that close. as much as you loved seeing him almost every day, you hated at the fact you still didn’t know the ways to calm your loving facial expression towards him.
it was a funny sight —at least to your friends— that they could see how elongated your nose grew every time you deny your feelings for him. yet as time passed the possibility of your admiration might turn into romantic feelings instead. there wasn’t a need to prove to you since your friends have pointed it out already.
but you yourself wasn’t too sure about it.
“please,” hyejin popped with a huge round of an eyeroll at your oblivion. legs crossed as she chewed her bubblegum. “y/n, admit that you like him. it isn’t that hard to say out loud.”
other students, including your studio tutor held in their giggles in the midst of the silence within the room. true enough hyejin was the mood maker.
her words made you stop painting the colours that were meant to accentuate the highlights of the subject. “i’m not like you who’s very expressive in words.” you replied, taking few peeks at your surroundings in case anyone eavesdrop.
hyejin wasn’t supposed to be in the studio today. she was a literature student where writing poetry was her forte. but because your tutor appreciated her effort to promote the visual arts department in the school paper, her going to the studio with you became a normal thing.
“it doesn’t have to be in words. like, i don’t know? paint some canvas and pour out your feelings through colours? yellow’s joy or purple’s dazzling or red is love-” she stopped as you gave her an annoyed gaze. “i’m sure he’ll get it. he’s not called a prodigy for nothing.”
“painting is not done on a whim, hyejin.” you emphasised, not noticing the stress put upon your work. “it takes time and thinking and creativ-”
“yeah yeah,” she made her bubble burst, which by the way irritated you since it gave off the impression that she wasn’t listening to you at all. “abstract seems so random though. no thinking there.”
you pointed the brush at her, yet careful enough that it doesn’t touch her nose. if another word comes from her mouth, you wouldn’t hesitate staining it. “sis, shapes are used instead of virtual reality, so abstract still needs thinking. you just express it differently.” hearing this, hyejin paused for a while before deciding which reaction to give, and with that you were satisfied into silencing her for a while. “now you know how i feel when i don’t understand shakespeare’s ‘love looks not with eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged cupid painted blind’.”
she let out a scoff, “pfft, you’re the cupid in that quote. you can’t even see that you like mr. prodigy so much.”
jaehyun gently opened the door and handed a paper slip to the tutor, which apparently was a doctor’s certificate. due to his arrival, hyejin elbowed you so hard that its force caused you to jolt in your seat then knocking two of the glassed jars placed on the narrow deck of your easel.
the tutor looked at your direction, and lowered his specs at the noise. flustered than you ever were in your entire life, you took the dust pan. you tried your best to not match eyes with jaehyun who was now smiling from second hand embarrassment. at farthest decibel your ears could handle, you could hear hyejin sneering with huffed laughs.
“i’m gonna kill you.” you mouthed from a table away and gave her a warning look. you gestured the phrase, followed by a scowl to refer her teasing tongue.
“i’ll help, y/n.” jaehyun offered, but you assured him it was fine. “what’re you working on?” he asked as you both walked back to the tables, he took out his tools and unfinished work.
this time was the season of cramming hours into a tight schedule, there were many initial stages/assignments due and portfolios to be completed. you guessed it was natural for you both to update each other regarding progress. “just giving more highlights and tweaks, then i’ll start on the portraits.”
he only pressed a smile, a breathy chuckle as a response while he focused on his art. “do you still need my help on shading?”
“i think i got the hang of it. thanks.” you damped the brush with water.
“alright, if you need me, i’m just here.”
your eyes shot down to your pockets, quickly answering the phone to quiet down the “supposedly” soundless vibration. and you wished you didn’t fished out the device if you knew that the message was from hyejin.
[18:45] hyejin: damn it y/n, confess already! 🤪
[18:45] you: if you could shut up maybe i will?? i could hear your voice haunting me 🙃
[18:46] hyejin: if there’s no progress today, i’m so gonna take action & tell him myself 😌
[18:47] you: ugh anything but that pls 😣
the thing with being associated with the arts was that time immediately had gone passed when you’re so concentrated. everything else faded away and in that momentum, it was just the art and you. jaehyun felt this once he picked up his brush or pencil. voices in his head whispered and guided him what to do with the creativity still yet to be shown in the world.
among all the students he bonded with, there was one whom perked his interest..
you.
as mentioned, his current surroundings blurred whilst he was sucked into another dimension of concentration. but you went there with him and appeared clear. seemed a scene out of an alternate reality in his perspective, or dramatic to some people. he was intrigued.
since knowing you, he expected to sought this mutual interest deeper. if he was the beautiful, detailed canvas everyone saw in an exhibition, you were the opposite; abstract, unpredictable and rough, someone who was overlooked because others couldn’t understand the depths and entirety of you.
finishing the last layer of the painting, you stretched to sooth the numbness. the professor reminded about the last few minutes before wrapping up the class and, he handed the room keys to you. for this tutorial, students have the choice to stay behind or leave. hyejin left with the others, leaving you alone with jaehyun. whether she did that on purpose, she’d do anything to let you be alone with him.
“oh? you’re done with yours?” jaehyun shifted sideways to take a better view of your work. he looked satisfied with the way his dimples hollowed. “hm. my advise is effective.”
“yeah, you’re a life saver.” you sighed as you looked at how completed the artwork was, then trailing your eyes to him again.
“i’m proud of you.” he winked, only to blush afterwards when his stomach growled. “i wish you didn’t hear that.”
coincidently, you tossed your wallet in the air. “good timing, i’m just about to head out to the cafeteria. want anything? my treat because you helped me.” you extolled with your mood in completely positivity. jaehyun became your inspiration and for now you weren’t able to bring yourself to tell him that.
hopefully soon though— when you have the courage.
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the sleepiness in your eyes only needed ten percent more to push your lids down, the queue was unexpectedly long at this hour. it was only until minutes later had you known that another department organised a party nearby. the wait for the order would be troublesome; that’d be in the fact there were girls right behind, their gaze burning into your skin as if you were an enemy of theirs. and somehow you knew,
they might be jaehyun’s admirers.
they whispered to each other, words audible enough for your hearing and you pretended to be listening to music.
and how you wished you should’ve.
“do you know why jaehyun took fine arts?” one asked.
an intrigued response caught you walking on a tight rope. this can’t be good. “sounds like you know the reason.”
“it’s been spreading around recently..” there was a pause that had you wondering even if you knew you shouldn’t believe in any of rumours from them. “i heard the studio has this session to draw the human body and the figures. like y’know.. no clothes?”
sigh, there wasn’t even any classes for those this semester, you thought.
few giggles were heard before they spoke again. “you’re saying he’s perverted?”
“maybe? i wouldn’t be surprised if it were true.”
“isn’t that kinda hot? his eyes starting into-”
you nearly dropped jaehyun’s food and trip over an extension wire hearing that. breathing slowly and steadily, you convinced yourself that what you heard was false. he wasn’t the type of guy they assumed he was.
as much as you wanted to prove them wrong, it wasn’t your place to speak out when the friendship you have with him was not to the level of best friends. so you rushed back to the studio, not noticing your blown-away hair and burning face. what was amusing after hearing the tea, you didn’t know why you reacted in that manner. did you leave because you couldn’t stand eavesdropping any longer? or did you run due to the fact the fantasies they had were about to enter your mind?
the door was opened with a force that jaehyun looked up from his work, smiling at your quick purchase. “whoa careful there. you didn’t have to run.” he chuckled and went to your table. he took his favourite spicy cake and placed it on top heavily. the force he exerted with his hands was the total opposite to when he dealt with art. somewhere in you, you’d say it was a 0.1 percent a turn-off.
“hey, it’s food. handle with care, it’s a blessing.” you said, munching on your share of the dishes.
jaehyun clasped his palms together, bowed his head and closed his eyes. he faced you and you sat there with a confused look. “thank you y/n, you’re an angel for treating me.”
soon after, you received a message from your professor about taking out some of the tools needed for tomorrow. holding the sandwich wrap between your lips, you took a closer look at the right keys before unlocking the storage room, opening the door afterwards.
it was at least the size of two toilet cubicles, not even close to a room’s walk-in closet. the thin cabinets against both sides of the wall were two feet, and the remaining space in the middle could fit a person’s leg, stretched out. the new set of canvases were placed on the top shelf. for someone like you, it wasn’t possible to reach them on tiptoes. you grabbed a chair and stacked two tins of paint for your feet to stand upon.
if you still couldn’t reach them.. eh, bummer. disturbing jaehyun who was enjoying his meal would be rude. you weren’t that type of person to suddenly feel as if you were already close to someone. the icky and dusty feeling on your fingertips nearly had you gagging.
“jaehyun?” you called out, apparently you’ve given up in trying another attempt. “i need a hand.”
there was a long pause as to why he didn’t respond immediately. maybe you should’ve have disturbed him? but you soon rolled your eyes when a mannequin’s hand was thrown to you. his snickers was supposedly an adorable thing to hear, this kind of wasn’t, because you desperately needed help now. “jeong jaehyun!”
he hummed right after you mentioned his name the second time. “i’m just messing around. but does that mean you’ll treat me again? i helped you.” his voice sounding with excitement.
you nodded, your anger long forgotten but he could tell there was conflict in your head. “i’ll consider it, so help me before i smack you with this plastic hand.” your tone slightly straining since you didn’t feel him entering the room.
“yeah. coming.” he said, giggling at your impatience. as you tried to reach out for the canvases again, the light behind you slowly dimmed.
that was weird. “hey, it’s getting dark in here.” you said.
before he could say anything, the door slowly closed and that made you raise a brow. he noticed this too and looked into your eyes when the light within the room soon disappeared. “ah sorry, i must’ve kicked the door stopper.” even in the dark, you could tell he was flustered from his actions. “i’ll open it.”
however his groans and vigorous sounds from the door knob stated otherwise. “what?” you heard him raise his voice.
“what’s wrong?” you hopped off the tins and grabbed the knob, twisting it clockwise then anti-clockwise. “it’s jammed.”
you both panicked because the night wasn’t getting any younger. there were things to finish and deadlines were drawing closer. before, you thought of procrastinating even when necessary. but procrastinating like this wasn’t part of the plan.
how was it possible for the knob to be jammed? the door wasn’t closed in an impact that would cause its components to be broken. sure jaehyun was reckless and couldn’t control his strength but that really wasn’t the issue here.
the actual issue was that you were going be stuck with him for who knows until when. stuck in a sense there were just enough space for two people. jaehyun fumbled his pockets in search of his phone, an annoyed groan told you it was bad news. “call someone. my battery just died and my powerbank’s outside.”
quickly you fished out your phone, only to find that it had the same fate. “ugh i have 10% left.” you slumped your sides to the shelves like there was no hope. “i’ll try to text hyejin.”
“hm i hope she’s not too far from the campus.” jaehyun leaned against the shelves opposite from you, his expression definitely amused with your reaction. a scoff of disbelief escaped your dry lips, sliding the phone to the shelf as you put your hair on one side. “that doesn’t sound good. what did she say?”
for all the things hyejin could do to help you get out of there, she’d rather sit and tease every single nerve of your body. “she said ‘you both just made your own seven minutes in heaven! i’m laughing out loud right now.’”
and for the things you thought jaehyun would disagree with your friend, he didn’t. it surprised you when his held-in giggles came bursting out from his chest. “it’s exciting. don’t you think?” he chuckled. “this is something you see in movies.”
“okay. tell me, what’s exciting about being locked-”
“we can ask each other questions. or any topic you’d like to talk about. i wanna know more about you.” he suggested, shutting you up because if he didn’t, you’d be quite a complainer. jaehyun bent to a squat, later stretching his legs until the soles reached the sides of your hips. “i rarely get the chance to talk to you properly and i guess this is the day, so scoot over.” he gestured you to move aside a little.
“gee i wonder why?” your voice came out sarcastically. “i don’t ignore people unlike a certain someone.”
“just sit down, will you?” jaehyun seemed to take the fact to heart.
you complied and sat exact the same as he did. the tiled floor sent cool to your legs but it didn’t really matter. jaehyun began by asking how you got into art; what motivated you to choose this field. “it’s just a childhood dream of mine to keep expanding my creativity. i wanna teach kids the joy in paint, that we’re not limited to using tools. i started painting with my hands and fingers when i was five.”
“really? i’m the same, except i was three when i painted.” his dimples deepening.
though you did answer him, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the whole story. you were just par in the arts, an average joe and always felt like your professors tied your wings together to express what you really wanted. every proposal you presented were rejected. if lucky, it still wasn’t good enough. not enough to reach jaehyun’s standards and world.
his shoes hit your hips again, the nudges were light and made you look to him. “your turn.” he said.
your eyes wander the dark room, the thin light from the sides of the door showing the outline of his face. “is it good? being called something you never wanted to be? did you know you’re gifted as a kid?”
“do you want my honest opinion?” he brought one leg to his chest, forearm resting on it as he start to ponder. hearing the soft shuffles from you in agreement, he gulped his dry throat to say the one thing he longed to say.
“i don’t like it.”
beyond speechless. you thought maybe he’d like the feeling of being center of attraction, or praised to have a skill that was out of this world. while you’d like to know what it felt like, it already told you enough that he wouldn’t want to be referred to as a prodigy. “not even a single bit?” alarmed, you squinted your eyes and he shook his head.
“i used to like it at first.. now i don’t,” jaehyun admitted but his face had changed the moment you asked him the one thing he never wanted to look back. “..because i was set apart from kids my age and they view me differently, nor have they ever treated me like every kid in the block.“
he continued how parents would tell him he was ‘inspiring’ or ‘i wish i had a kid like you; dedicated, and talented’. the claim have made him proud, yet this caused insecurity to most of his friends, and they distanced themselves from him. what was once the same ground they stood upon, it had quaked the earth and caused a wide gap. jaehyun hated the feeling of isolation by the will of others. though he had tried many times to reach out to them..
the gap continued to widen.
“there’s not much of a difference now.” he whispered yet audible enough for you to hear. ”i still have less friends. countable with fingers.. on one hand.”
probably the reason why he looked like a snob then.
“i see. so am i?.. part of your ‘friends’?” he heard you ask when reality hits you that you shouldn’t have said your thoughts out loud. closing your eyes for a bit, you heard the shift in his weight, he didn’t answer right away. it was as if he was still finding the words.
but he sat right beside you. “you’re already one when we both entered this classroom. i had a hunch you’ll be one i’ll treasure.”
if anyone was told the way he did just now, it would definitely make them smile. that was his honest opinion and you couldn’t help but smile at his words. he seemed to notice this too and let out a chuckle that was always music to your ears. “should we try to open the door again?” you changed the topic to avoid the awkward smile creeping your face. your hands gripped the knob and jaehyun tugged the hems of your jeans.
“y/n, if you do it further we’ll be damned if hyejin couldn’t open from the outside.” he stood that he was already behind you. “i’m not stopping you from trying though.”
“f-fine.” you leaned against the door, soothing your legs that experienced paresthesia. jaehyun pat your head like he always did whenever you unintentionally embarrass yourself, be it art or not whatsoever. “i just can’t seem to stay still.” oh gosh i don’t know what i’d do if i’m alone with him.
“yeah clearly.” he shrugged.
you had a scowled face and glad he didn’t see it. “the place’s so cramped-” you continued, walking to the chair you once stood on, only to lose balance when the shelves you held for support gave in to collapse from the weight it carried. with weight, the whole furniture wobbled to fall.
in a split second you felt yourself being lifted off the ground, a strong arm wrapping around your frame and saw yourself at the opposing side of the room. jaehyun closed into you as he managed to stop the some items from falling. the entire body of the cabinet covered and trapped you both in a tight place. the furniture tilted right behind him. one small move, the items could injure two and he didn’t want to risk that.
he could feel your breath touch his shirt and with the way you held his clothes, you definitely didn’t see this coming. “are you okay?” he thought there was a possibility of squishing you.
“uncomfortable, but i’ll manage.. somehow.” you honestly replied because there was no point in lying to him.. physically speaking, he’d know what you feel since he himself was also in discomfort. anyway, with your answer, this marked the third silence as there was another one creating yet another gap in the conversation.
okay y/n. you told yourself. you made everything awkward than before. first was you asked whether you were friends, which you already were. second was your stupid and careless behaviour that led to the position you’re both in now.
“what about you?” you asked after seeing the huge frame towering over both of your bodies, mostly onto his. so maybe that was another unnecessary question to ask.
jaehyun gulped and fixed his one of his palms that he gripped on the shelf behind you. you could see his adam’s apple move up and down, struggling to breathe. he pushed backwards to be able to see your face. tilting his head down, that movement alone made you look up. “uncomfortable, but i’ll somehow manage.” he smiled even though you knew he wasn’t.
“you know you’ll earn zero marks if you copy my answer.” you giggled, remembering the professor’s words at the beginning of the semester.
he flicked your forehead as he agreed with the obvious statement. “i heard him. anyway, it’s my turn to ask.”
“are we really playing the game now? can we at least try to figure how to get out of this position?” you began to whine and threw your head back where you hit your head, and you didn’t care how shameful you felt. you knew you wouldn’t stand any longer, your legs started to weaken because of stress— stress from everything jaehyun managed to make you feel, that included the little smiles and especially his hand around your waist.
jaehyun didn’t know why he put his palms behind your head before the incident happened but he knew he had to, with the way you flustered so much. he figured that you weren’t used to situations like these.
however a memory slipped into his mind that you were always your usual self with other guys around. he noticed how you held or hiccuped a breath whenever you both conversed. you and him weren’t particularly close to begin with, just enough to pass as friends and maybe it was his love for art that brought that gap closer to you.
right now? perhaps too close. literally.
“why not? it gets more fun.” he tried to hide the smile creeping his lips; at the sight of how irritated you were beneath him and he actually considered your plead to get you both to safety. but maybe he’d like to enjoy a little bit before doing so. “besides, there’s no way we can move properly with a lot of things blocking our surroundings.”
on both sides, the two of you were encased with large items and materials that were affected by the impact. “tsk.” you tilted your head to avoid looking at him. “at least try to push the huge cabinet?”
he did as he was told and from the grunts and exhausted voice, jaehyun gave up trying. “i don’t think i can. something’s probably caught in the gap between the wall and the furniture.” he tried to look over his shoulder to see if he was right.
“i thought prodigies don’t give up.” your voice sounded challenging to him.
“within the spectrum of our skill, we don’t. but outside our gift, we have the choice to.” jaehyun flicked your forehead again. “we get tired too.”
there was less force against your torso, he was trying to push the furniture again and you bubbled out a giggle. “wow you aren’t as cool as i thought you were.”
jaehyun wanted to hit you as you were being too playful at the wrong time. but as he brought his hand up, you closed your eyes shut to brace for the sharp impact. he sighed and his stomach growled in the most embarrassing way yet. “ugh, it’s because i haven’t eaten enough. i don’t have any strength left.” his stomach then growled louder.
maybe it was due to your bodies against each other’s and the heat starting to roam around the room. jaehyun clicked his tongue at the continuous mimicking of yours. “c’mon y/n i can’t be the only one doing the work here. help me push this heavy thing behind me.”
“uh no? do you think i could even help? don’t make me uncomfortable than i’m already am.” you moaned at the pain starting to grow along your spine. arching your back to avoid the discomfort from the shelves wasn’t really a good idea.
“ah you’re uncomfortable?” he implored with a smirk, his voice quite menacing as he leaned in to squeeze you between the cabinet behind you and himself.
for the whole time jaehyun knew that you didn’t mean whatever you said. he loved how you surprise him everyday and tonight he found you quite cheeky, and adorable too. by quite, it meant that you were like a child wanting to go home. a huff from him felt like the gust of wind. “‘i don’t have any strength left’.” you copied his words. seeing his lips pout, it was alright to give in. “will you treat me food if i help?” you returned the question because you treated him.
“you’re lucky you’re cute.” he suddenly said, with a soft chuckle, you knew he was smiling. it had gotten you speechless that it was hard to tell whether he said knowingly or not. “we can buy what the other wants after we get out of here, okay?” his attempt to get the wood off him yet again failed.
you clapped your hands quite hyperactively and squealed as if he asked you out on a date. “oh yay! okay. i wouldn’t want to be rained on for another hour anyway.” you teased, in which he exhaled heavily from his nostrils.
“i’m not that sweaty.” he grumbled, almost vibrating with the exertion of his energy.
“just perspiring.” you added.
he hit your head with his, for sure you’ll have a prominent bruise and that would make you a victim for hyejin for the next few days. or tonight, if she would get you both out. “that’s the same meaning.”
it took less than two minutes to take the weight off his back. jaehyun saw everything in slow motion— he was falling backwards and you, frontwards. “whoa!” for a moment you thought you hit yourself on a wall. that was for a brief second before the impact was replaced by a warm hug.
you checked if he was okay, he became your safe fall and again he saved you when you didn’t ask for it. “i didn’t expect.. i’m sorry.” you pressed your lips realising you were in between his legs.
he hissed at the pain and sat tiredly on the floor, using all of the fabrics of his clothes to wipe the sweat. “it’s okay.” he patted your back.
“right.. this is awkward. i better get off..” you chuckled and dusted your clothes awkwardly but what he said next really caught you off guard.
“do you want to do it?” he queried, taking you back as your head shot up and hit his chin with your forehead.
you blinked several times. “d-do what?” is this another question i won’t be able to answer?
there was a shaky grip on your waist, your heart hammered and you were afraid that he would hear it. “y’know what i’m talking about.” he put the hair strands away so he would be able to see your face under the lines of slim light.
“i don’t?” you choked on your own saliva. what was he talking about?
jaehyun’s breath made you freeze on the spot, along sudden silence. he giggled softly. “such a waste, you even have a perfect body.”
then the conversation from the two girls at the cafeteria entered your mind right when you thought deep. hold on, the rumours can’t be true..
he stood up shortly, cornering you by the door and the lights revealed his eyes, smiling shyly. “you have perfect proportions.” as of now, you were a little nervous. you couldn’t process what you were hearing from your crush’s lips and looked away where you could see hyejin’s figure closing the studio’s door.
finally hyejin’s here. i have to tell him. “uh jaehyu-”
“can you be my model?” he held your hands.
oh shoot it is true?
“i need someone to pose for my next art portrait and you’re the only one i can ask.”
‘well aren’t you quite the deep thinker~’ you could imagine hyejin’s voice telling you off at the back of your mind. you shook your head and shut your eyes for her imaginary presence to go away, making you miss seeing jaehyun’s expression turn to a small pout.
suddenly you felt like your soul left your body. what were you thinking y/n?! erase the thought! cleanse your mind from what you heard from the girls!
now you stopped being an embarrassment, you looked at him. however, before you could answer, the door swung open, causing you both to fall over and adjust to the lights above you. hyejin looked down at the two of you, her bubblegum popping with brows raised. “girl, i texted you back and said i’m opening the door. didn’t you see- oh, did i come at the wrong time?”
jaehyun quickly got on his toes, ears turning red while you covered your face in embarrassment. “this is a misunderstanding hyejin!” he stuttered and fixed his collar. you dug for your phone to check the message, but it died long before.
she blew another bubble and popped. “mhm, i can see that.” she winked at the both of you and turned to leave.
“hyejin!” you whined and clung on her legs.
“i’m leaving!” she singsonged and shook her ankles like you were a bug. “i’m giving you more alone time with your muse!”
“oh my g- you!” you chased her down. “quiet!”
she laughed cheekily and managed to exit the studio, sticking out her tongue and pointed behind you. ‘walk home with him!’ hyejin mouthed, and you couldn’t be more annoyed with her because that was indeed true. what was once a wishful thinking became reality. she knew you more than you did yourself.
as you sighed heavily, it got you hitching a breath that jaehyun might’ve heard and saw the whole thing. you turned around and he was packing his stuff, yours included. the artworks were left untouched since you both would be back here tomorrow. he gave your bag and you chose to not talk because you didn’t have the audacity to do. “so, uh. what were you saying earlier?” you hoped he would forget what he just saw.
“oh y-yeah. lemme just-” he took a deep breath and looked into your eyes. “..rephrase it- wait i’m your muse?”
of course he wouldn’t forget, it just happened. damn you, hyejin! you slouched on a nearby chair and wore your hood. “i was hoping you wouldn’t find out so soon.”
“i’m flattered. thanks.” his dimples hollowed. “i was asking if you could be my reference for my next art piece..” he trailed off recalling that you declined. “..though you shook your head quickly than i thought.”
“huh i did?” your voice affirming. “oh gosh i think i did.. i’m sorry i was hearing hyejin in my head when you said that.”
jaehyun’s eyes widened when all he heard was pure honesty from you. “so will you do it for me?”
“as long as i wear clothes while at it.” you consented with your arms crossed and began to feel heat spread your whole body at the thought of the rumour.
walking along the hallway, only the sounds of shoes grazing the carpet echoed the area. you didn’t know what else to say. he brought you to the nearest convenient store where the campus’ one was closed at the hour. the food you bought turned cold and you couldn’t afford to get sick because of it.
he pulled the chair for you to sit on. “you heard them as well.” he placed his bag down. he was aware of the rumours found around and was shocked to know you knew them too. “they’re not true.”
you propped your chin as he went back to the topic. “i know.” you agreed to his words. “they don’t describe you at all.”
jaehyun sat comfortably, a smirk appearing. “me being your muse fits the description-”
this guy.. “please don’t bring that up.” you pleaded with hands clasped.
“i’m teasing.” he chuckled. “i don’t mind if you refuse want to be my model.” he said. “but i assure i’m not like other artists who paints their naked model. i have a better plan for you.”
he was trying to convince you into his world and you were slowly getting into it. “that’s like saying you really want me to.” you took your wallet and he followed suit.
“what’s wrong with wanting to paint my new muse?” he slid his chair closer to the table; closer so he could see your reactions to his honesty.
when he said that, you never turned away so fast in your life. your chest never thumped so loudly and your eyes fluttered while he continued to press onto his question. 
an assuring smile showed on your lips and he mirrored it, already knowing your response. “nope, nothing wrong at all.” you shyly accepted his request.
jaehyun then stood to get the orders, his fingers warning you that the late dinner would be on him. your heart experienced blossoms and giddiness you hoped it’d stay forever. who knows? maybe being each other’s muse could turn into something more after tonight.  
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atamascolily · 4 years
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After Ursula K. Le Guin died, I made an agreement with myself I would read anything and everything she'd written as the chance arose. That said, Searoad: Chronicles of Klatsand probably would have been the last on my list, had I not stumbled across a paperback copy in a library booksale (in pre-pandemic times) in a "fill a paper bag for $10" sale and it languished in my TBR pile for months before I finally got around to it.
The reason? Genre snobbery, in reverse of the usual direction. Searoad is a collection of short stories published in magazines like The New Yorker, and fancy-sounding publications with Review in their names. Serious publications publishing so-called "literary" fiction, or maybe "realistic fiction" or just plain fiction--fiction that's supposed to tell-it-like-it-is, lay bare the inadequacies of modern life, and leave you feeling empty and unfulfilled after watching empty and unfulfilled people make poor decisions in futile attempts to fill the emptiness and inadequacies of their lives. Because that’s the whole point of literature, right?
Oh. Perhaps I'm generalizing. But so it feels to me whenever I dip into one of these publications. They are "literature", everything else is "genre": romance, science-fiction, fantasy, action, adventure, thriller, mystery, crime. "Literary" fiction is usually just plain old "fiction" in the library classification systems and in common parlance: it is assumed to be the norm, the default, from which everything else is a deviation. And I hate this. I've always hated this.
To write about petty modern people with their petty modern lives is one thing--we all have our kinks--but to disdain others for imagining different things, for epics and grandeur and you-could-have-anything-so-why-not-go-for-it always struck me as a deep failure of, and disdain for, imagination. Genres, like so much else in our lives, are social constructs: us and them, the have and the have-nots. Literary fiction are the "haves", everything else is the "have-nots". That's changing, obviously, and the boundaries aren't as rigid as they once were, but I still see that divide reflected in so-called "serious" publications, and I generally avoid them.
Ursula K. Le Guin has always hugged the boundaries between "pure" genre (aka trashy, flashy, unfit for serious folk in the eyes of the pedants) and "literary merit". She's been accepted and respected by both camps, although the "literary" folks speak of the sci-fi rather patronizingly in their reviews of her works. Le Guin, however, never disdained the sci-fi labels in the same way that Margaret Atwood--another boundary-spanning writer--has always done.
For this reason, I've retained infinitely more respect for Le Guin than Atwood, despite Atwood's considerable talents as a writer. Atwood wants to play with sci-fi tropes, but she doesn't have the backbone to stand up and be proud of it. Atwood wants to write science fiction but not be judged for it, and the easiest way to do that (since genres are a social construct) is just to firmly insist that it's not sci-fi at all--move along, nothing to see here.
Here's a blurb on the back of my copy of Searoad by Carolyn Kizer, a Pulitzer-prize winning poet from the Pacific Northwest:
"For a number of years, the only science-fiction I read was that of Ursula K. Le Guin. I don't read science-fiction any more, thought I wouldn't think of missing a book of Le Guin's. She has transcended the genre..."
How very generous and open-minded of you to only read science-fiction so elevated it “transcends” its genre entirely, thereby becoming worthy of notice. And this is supposed to make me like literary fiction? 
That said, the irony is that Kizer’s statement sums up my approach to non-genre stuff as well, although I would not have phrased it quite so baldly. More like “Okay, not usually my cup of tea--but if it’s you, it’s okay....” The genre transcending thing, as much as I despise the phrasing, works both ways here.
All this is to say I finally read Searoad, even though I had to coax myself into it by pretending that this was an alien society that Le Guin and I were exploring together in order to tell us stuff about our own, and that helped. It also helped because the stories were so damn good, and I got carried away, even though they are very literary stories, with ambiguous endings, the usual focus on unexpressed and/or self-destructive emotions of love, birth, and death, and no magic or wizards or dragons whatsoever.
(To repeat: I am a genre snob who has never understood why writing without dragons was inherently better than writing with dragons in it. I have always operated under the principle that dragons made everything better. And I have never understood why depicting the world as it is was a stroke of literary genius, if all you were going to do with it it is show people being unhappy in the usual old ways instead of unusual ways. Or even imagine something new and different!)
Searoad reminds me of Lake Wobegon a little, but that's only because it's a small town, with characters from one story popping up in others in the most unexpected places--just like small town life. After a while, it feels like we're constantly running into old friends, a shared world--real, but in a good way. The stories were published across a wide range of outlets from 1987-1991, yet flow into each other astonishingly well when read in rapid succession, or indeed, in any order at all.
My favorite is "True Love," which is all about ditching unsatisfying conventional relationships to focus on one's true passion instead:
For me, sex is sublimation. Left to itself, in its raw, primitive state, my libido would have expend itself inexhaustibly in reading.
And since I have been a librarian ever since I was twenty, I can truly compare my life to that of some pasha luxuriating in his harem--and what a harem! Half a million mistresses, when I was at the Central Library in Portland! A decade-long orgy! And during the school year, since I teach now at the Library School, I have access to the University Library. Here in Klatsand where I spend the summers, the harem is very small and a good many of the houris are rather out of date, but then so am I. My lust has lessened somewhat with the years. Sometimes I imagine I could be contented with a mere shelf of tried, true, and highly selected Scheherazades, with only now and then a pretty little novel to flirt with, or a volume of new poetry to make me cry out with excess of pleasure in the heart of the night.
And in the same story, Le Guin makes it clear she's one of us:
"Do you like science fiction" I asked her, because all I can really talk about is books. And of course, she couldn't talk about books. That had been knocked out of her years ago. We compromised on "Star Trek," new and old. She liked the new series as well as the old one. I liked the old one better. Antal stared, not at Rosemarie, only at me. "You watch it?" he said. "You watch television?"
I didn't answer. ... I was not going to let him try to shame us for our commonness.
"The one I liked best was the one where Mr. Spock had to go home because he was in heat," I said to her.
"Except, he never, you know," she said. "They just had a fight over the girl, him and Captain Kirk, and then they left."
"That's his pride," I said, obscurely. I was thinking how Mr. Spock was never unbuttoned, never lolled, kept himself shadowy, unfulfilled, and so we loved him. And poor Captain Kirk, going from blonde to blonde, would never understand that he himself loved Mr. Spock truly, hopelessly, forever.
Reader, I LOLed. Because it's true. You know it, I know it, and so does Le Guin. And she had the guts to say so in the Indiana Review, and the editors published it. LEGEND.
Like all of Le Guin's writing, the stories in Searoad are lyrical, elegant, soaring, and moving--sympathetic, yet unafraid to call out bad behavior and terrible things when she sees it. My other favorite story, "Sleepwalkers," is a brilliant example of this: it starts with a complaint by a privileged male playwright about the housekeeper at his summer cabin, only for us to quickly learn (if his tone and phrasing didn't give it away) that he's an arrogant asshole who sees only what he wants to see and misses what's actually in front of him. We then pivot to a number of other people at the little resort, and their views of the housekeeper, and we're left with an open question at the end: which view is more accurate? Which story do we believe? What is actually going on? Can any of us really know or understand the hidden depths within another person? It's so deep and lush and well-written, and even funny on occasions.
And there's also a diversity of viewpoints and perspectives and scenarios enough to keep me interested: a lesbian grieves the death of her long-time partner, a war veteran deals with PTSD, a college student runs off into the woods to secretly map illegal old-growth logging stands, a ghost appears in a late-night diner to a sexual-abuse victim. The ghost thing seems like it ought to fall under genre conventions, but doesn’t because of the framing, and yet it still works for me--another example of Le Guin’s skill.
Anyway, so Le Guin actually made me enjoy so-called "literary" fiction and that was unexpected and delightful. Regardless of my feelings about most "realistic" fiction, I'm glad I read this collection.  
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icarus-suraki · 4 years
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unusual asks: 4, 14, 37, 79
4. do you like your name? why? Ah ha ha ha, so I'm not going to tell my real name, but I'll say that my first, middle, and (probably obviously) last name are all family names. My first name isn't so bad, except that my mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and a number of other relatives all have the same first name. It's really a family name on my mother's side. It's not a bad name, but it doesn't feel like my name because I've been called by my middle name all my life. With so many people with the same first name, it makes sense, right?
My middle name is...different. I mean, I'm a woman (though I'm a bit sloshy on that sometimes) but my middle name is a really old, slightly ugly-sounding name that's usually given to boys. It's a family name, formerly a surname--and since my family is undeniably Southern, we follow the good tradition of giving daughters family surnames that were "lost" in marriages. And that's how I, a girl, ended up going by a name that's basically on par with Cuthbert or Aethelrad or Gruffudd. It did not make my school-years easy, no.
And my last name is a strange spelling of a Dutch name--if it were English, it might be something like the surname "James" being spelled like "Jaymesse." We aren't quite sure how it came to us since we can only trace it back to one person. We know when and who he married, but we have no information about him before or after that. We know he was out of the picture when his wife was pregnant (whether he died or ran off or was kidnapped or something we don't know). His wife, at a loss as for what to do, went to her sister's house and lived with her sister and her sister's husband for a while. And then she named the baby after her sister's husband??? But with her own (now our) last name???? She was an interesting woman. But we just don't know much about the man who gave us our last name. There's some family conjecture that he might have been an Eastern European Jew and, when that came out, that was totally unacceptable to his wife and her family. So either she left him or he left her. Either way, we've still got the name. And now, whenever one of us with the name goes to Europe, we like to confuse the locals. (I think I got more of the British Isles genes, but my brother definitely got the Dutch genes because he looks like a damn Tour de France cyclist.)
Do I like my name? It's not the easiest to live with, but it's got a colorful past. So I don't always like it, but it's interesting, to say the least.
14. if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? This is so hard to answer because it changes based on my mood and the season. Sometimes I'm like "I want to live somewhere tropical and warm in a house that almost doesn't need windows with long sheer curtains where I can be a hippie doing yoga and eating smoothie bowls up in the trees." And other times I'm like "Wouldn't it be interesting to live in Japan? Maybe Tokyo, but more like Kyoto and out in the suburbs. Or maybe out in the country, like a real Studio Ghibli place." France crosses my mind too, sometimes Paris, sometimes Provence, sometimes Normandy...
But I think, and this is probably pretty predictable, that the most aesthetically-comfortable place, to me, would probably be the Lake District in the UK.
Is the UK all that great in ever sense? No, for many reasons (Brexit is only one of them). But in terms of weather, wildlife, scenery, familiarity from children's picture books, I think it's got to be the Lake District (and environs).
It was one of the last places we visited when I did a summer abroad. We'd done London (exciting but such a city), we'd done Scotland (rather craggy and gray), we'd done Bath (I was sick as a dog so I can't make much of a judgement and would like to go back), we'd done Oxford (and I thought I was a snob, fuck me), we'd done Yorkshire (suddenly the grimness of the Bronte sisters makes sense)... And then we took this long bus ride northwards and up into the Lake District and it was such a...relief in a funny sense of the word. Trees! Fields! Foxgloves! Stiles over fences! Walking paths! Lovely cottages!
If I was appallingly rich, I'd find an old cottage to move into and live there and grow a cottage garden and probably have a Patterdale terrier named Toby or Tommy and take lots of walks.
The Cotswolds were a close second, as I recall, but not quite as much of a spiritual(?) relief.
37. do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? The greatest irony of being a librarian is that everyone thinks you read all the time but you often don't have enough time to read at all.
Some librarians manage to pull it off, but I don't. I've gotten picky about books as I've gotten older. I had to lead some book discussions at my libraries, so I've had to read some very boring books (in some cases the book was boring but I did understand why books like it would appeal to some people). And I just don't have the mental capacity to suffer through boring books if I don't have to. So, no, I don't read all that much--
--in terms of books, at least. I've found that I'll read zillions of articles: longform, shortform, magazine, newspaper, online... I've got a few websites for sources and I'll just kind of look around and then suddenly say, "Wait, what?" and find myself reading, say, a GQ article about two Mormon brothers accused of murdering their parents and the whole backstory of the situation. If you drop a longform article about Weird Shit in front of me, yeah, I'll probably read it.
Which actually makes me wonder if I might want to read more nonfiction at the moment. Hmmm........
But favorite book? Favorite favorite book? Fuck, I'm such a sucker for Ulysses. I know, everyone's like "it's dirty!" or "it's too hard to understand!" And that's cool. But for me, it reads rather like poetry to me, dirty bits and all. And I love it and it has saved my life a few times. James Joyce got me through my 20s, okay?
I had hoped to go to Ireland, and Dublin specifically, in the summer or fall of 2020. Obviously that didn't happen, lmao. But part of my idea was to research tattoo shops before I went and to get a line from the "Ithaca" chapter tattooed on me somewhere. The line is:
"The heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit"
It's got to be one of my favorite lines in all of literature. T. S. Eliot has a couple of lines that are close seconds (it's almost time to read Ash Wednesday again and, hnnnngh, it's so good), but between the Eliot lines and the Joyce lines? Yeah, I'm going with the heaventree of stars.
I am a terrible person with a dirty mind. What can you do?
79. do you believe in ghosts? Most of the time I'm like: "Nah, I don't really believe in ghosts. It’d be kind of cool if they were real, right? But, nah, l don’t."
And then I'll watch some really good “real” ghost videos and it'll be about 11:30 at night and I'm immediately "I have changed my stance re: ghosts and I will be sleeping with the light on. Goodnight."
But generally speaking? As someone who has spent the night in a couple of supposedly haunted places? I guess I'm more in the "I want to believe" category. It'd be cool, wouldn't it? But I don't think it'll happen.
Now that said, I do still wonder about the Gray Man With The Hat that my mother and I have both seen on different occasions. It has to be something about how human brains understand certain things in certain situations (esp. related to light/shadow). We both wonder if it might be kind of like a "collective unconscious" situation, where something unfamiliar is interpreted as something familiar and then the brain puts that familiar "icon" (which is Pete Lorre in M, evidently?) over whatever the image the brain can't compute.
It's not directly related to ghosts in the typical sense, but I do have strong feelings about certain Jungian concepts (I have an aunt who's got some major Jungian background)--sometimes in a mystical way, sometimes in a more rational way. So I guess that's why I feel like I, personally, don't believe in ghosts as ghosts are generally viewed today. But I also think that people who say they've encountered ghosts shouldn't be dismissed immediately as wrong--they experienced something, I absolutely believe that, and it’s not fair or kind to dismiss them out of hand.
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murmurous-haunt · 8 years
Text
Tag - you’re it
I was tagged by the wonderful @thebookimaginarium​ and I thank you very much. I feel as though I’ve been in the desert for a month - my computer had to be repaired, so... yeah. Thanks for the tag - I’m pretty starved for any kind of communication by now...
What would you name your future kids? I’m not really sure and it’s quite a difficult choise, because sometimes Slavic names are impossible to pronounce. I want something that would make it easy for my child/ren to adapt and travel and meet all kinds of people without having to twist their tongues in order to introduce themselves. At the same time I don’t want them to have some ridiculous name that would make them funny in front of their peers while they still live in Bulgaria... Decisions, decisions... I love the name Kay, by the way, because of the Snow queen, but somehow Kay Ivanov sounds really stupid to me... Maybe, Leda for a girl (Leda and the Swan)
Do you miss anyone? Not really, I guess. I try to keep people that matter to me in my life... I miss sometimes the oppurtunity to communicate with people who share my fandom interests...
What are you looking forward to? Being a mother - although the idea that I might fuck up my children really scares me.
Is it hard of you to get over someone? Sometimes - I have very fond memories of people I haven’t talked to in years and I don’t miss them... Although, when it involves romantic interests, I’m very inadequate, it’s hard to make a transition and it’s very painful for a while..
What was your life like last year? It was quite normal. For the first time ever, I’m in a stable relationship and it’s taking time to get used to it.. So yeah, it was really nice..
What is your life like this year? I don’t know. I’m still trying to find my place under the sun, especially when it comes to proffessional achievements (which are paltry, by the way).. Apparently, no one in Bulgaria needs psychologists and therapists and it’s very hard to find a relevant job. The pay is abysmal - I get like 250 dollars a month (true, the overall standart in Bulgaria is very low, but still)...
Have you ever cried because you were so annoyed? Yes, sometimes it’s very difficult for me to reach my anger, let alone act on it, so yes, it’s not difficult to become annoyed (primarily with myself) to the point of tears.. 
Who did you last see in person? My boyfriend - we live together, so I see him quite a lot... :D
Are you listening to music right now? Yes, Opeth - Patterns in the ivy 2. It’s a beautiful ballad and I got it under my skin, totally... I take pride in my musical taste [which includes Nick Cave, Tom Waits, Dead can dance, Depeche mode, Bjork, The National etc., etc. I’m quite snob, really]
Does it have anything to do with what you’re doing right now? Nope, like I said, it’s under my skin, I listen to it 10 times a day, at least...
Personality description. I'm very shy even in my old age - that’s the main reason for me to communicate so little, even here on tumblr... Somehow it’s still difficult to click with people... It takes time for me to grasp things, but when I start to, I’m usually quite good at it.. I’m the great procrastinator and it’s got a lot to do with my innate sense of inferiority - it’s much easier to be a failure, than to risk failing, if you know what I mean. I’m a very loyal friend and I would do almost anything for my very few true friends... I can be a real ass sometimes, but I try to compensate in other situations... I could be funny in a vulgar and harmless sort of way...
Have you ever been to New York City? No
Birthday and age? May, 27 (btw, Alex, it makes sense that you’re Aquarius... You are, aren’t you?)
Are your crushes mainly girls or guys? Guys, I guess. I have a love-hate relationship with Emma Watson that’s currently in it’s full-blown state, because she’s everywhere... Probably, because I’ve always identified myself with Hermione...
Favorite quote? Hmm, quite difficult. I like Hermann Hesse a lot. But maybe, Camus’: “We all carry within us our places of exile, our crimes, and our ravages. But our task is not to unleash them on the world; it is to fight them in ourselves and in others.”
Something you want to learn? Too many things, most of them really basic - swimming, riding a bicycle, how to do my job properly, drawing, editting in Photoshop... like I said - basic stuff...
Favorite subject in school? Literature, undoubtedly... It’s always been my dream for my job to be related to books... I’ve alway loved history, too, because I have a really great ability to memorize just about anything...
Relationship status? Taken
Favorite book(s)? A very difficult question... Harry Potter is maybe the book-love of my life and recently I tried to reread it - I was very disappointed with myself that I don’t find it so interesting anymore (maybe because I have it all memorized). Dostoevsky’s books - particularly, The Idiot and The Youth. Milorad Pavic, who is the most original author, ever, I think. Some Bulgarian literature - poetry mostly: Yavorov, Debelyanov, they’re classics for us. Also, Narcissus and Goldmund, Demian by Hermann Hesse, Ibsen’s dramas, Pratchett’s series about the witches, Death, Tiffany Aching(!!)... I used to love Verlaine’s poetry very much.
Favorite fictional character? Well, Hermione Granger, of course. I suppose she’s the idol for every one of us.. I used to be pretty enraptured with Dostoevsky’s neurotic characters when I was in my teens (let me tell, identifying with those sort of characters doesn’t facilitate a healthy mental state). I don’t know, I think for every book I’ve read (even the very stupid ones) I’ve invested some kinds of feelings towards one or more characters... Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to finish it... 
Favorite fictional couple? Well, I’m quite the Dramione freak (in case my blog hasn’t tipped you off on that one), I’m able to read most ships as long as it involves Hermione - with Theo, Ron, Sirius or Remus here & there. For some strange reason though I dislike any Draco pairing that doesn’t involve Hermione. I’m very possessive of him that way.. I like Luna and Theo very much, I think Ron and Luna works really well, too... 
Something I’m talented at. Noticing details and taking photos... I really loved it, but with time it’s become more and more difficult to indulge in that hobby - my models have become too busy with real life, analogue is too expensive for me and so on and on... If you’re curious, you can see a select few (it’s not been updated for at least three years, but I haven’t done much shooting in that time, either) of my stuff here
I tag: @colubrina, @amortentiaforenemies, @anaidra29 and @unknown-authoress  
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allhallows-art · 7 years
Text
Fear
Inspired by the short film Rubix by youtuber RadHaggis (he’s got good shit and it’s a brilliant watch). This is only part one. I plan to write more.
Link to RadHaggis - X
Link to Rubix - X
What if your only purpose in life was to kill people? Being a cut throat murder was your only talent? You’d be scared. Anyone should be. Especially of a task like that. But what if I said you could never get caught? You could find your target, take their life and leave as if all you’d done was said hello. You’d be more willing. Because there would be minimal risk. Most people don’t like taking risks. They’re scared. Everyone is. Not me. I couldn’t give a shit if I could be caught or not. I don’t get caught though. You see, my only purpose in life is to kill people. My only talent is being a cut-throat murderer. And I can’t ever get caught. Although I like to imagine I can. It gets my adrenaline pumping. I didn’t aim to end up like this. I don’t think anyone does. I just woke up one morning with the urge to grab a baseball bat and bash in the skull of the nearest posh twat. The staff at college tried to label it as anxiety or depression or some other bullshit. They kept saying that I was under too much stress and they could help. I still don’t bloody understand what they were talking about. I wasn’t under any stress. In fact, I felt a lot more relieved now I knew what to do with myself. However, I started to notice things. A lot of things. For example, I began to notice how fake people seemed. They care at all about me before I started having “problems” and now everyone is wishing me luck as if I’m having life-changing surgery. One girl in my English actually bought me lunch one day to show “support”. She didn’t even know my fucking name until a few days before. Funny that, isn’t it? People don’t care about you until it can make them seem like a good person. It’s sad. First victim. Some guy named Joseph Stotam. Never heard of him before but quick research and asking around a few college people landed me his number. According to Steph from biology, he’s a literature snob. Loves English, reading, poetry. All that shit. The library seemed the best place to look for him first. You see, I don’t just straight up kill people. I like to get to know them first.  There’s always a reason why they should die. I just have to find it out. Once I do, they can happily sit in a pool of their own blood. The corridors leading towards the library were quiet and I should’ve expected that. I mean it was a library. The only thing unexpected in those corridors was me. “Dan?” I spun around on my heel upon hearing my name, my lips set into a tight line as a looked to see where it came from. A girl stood just to the side, her deep red hair tucked under a yellow beanie as she smiled at me. Her face was happy to see me. The real sort of happy. Not the fake kind that everyone else has been pushing on me. I quickly snapped myself back to reality as her lips began to move, having to often my face so as not to scare her. “Is everything okay, Dan? I don’t ever see you on this side of the campus.” Her words were gentle. She spoke to me the way that you’d talk to an animal like a deer or kitten so as not to startle them. “Hello to you too, Emma. A mate just wanted to return a book. I offered to do it for him because he’s got class right now.” It seemed like such a boring excuse but it was believable. “Fair enough then. How’s home?” Oh, for fucks sake. The last thing I wanted right now was to be caught up in a bloody conversation about my shitty home life. Emma and I had grown up with together, living across the street from each other. Her life was perfect. Two loving parents and an older brother, all the latest toys growing up. Plus, she was good looking. She always seemed to have one of those athletic guys for a boyfriend. Meanwhile, I grew up with a drunk for a mum, plenty of brothers that got into fights and prison and nothing with my name on it. Getting even half an hour to watch what I wanted on to TV was a luxury. “Home? It’s great. Absolutely amazing.” I forced a smile on to my lips and my hands into the pockets of my black jeans. She didn’t seem to believe my words this time. “I’ve got class now, Dan, but I’ll see you later, yeah? How about you come to mine for tea? Mum’s making a roast dinner. You loved her cooking when we were kids.” Her words were teasing me. After knowing someone for so long you know what weakens them. I didn’t want to let her win. But I knew it would ease her mind at least to spend time with me. “Sure.” She gave me a simple smile and left to go to class, leaving me stranded in the corridor like a lost sailor on a desert island. I stood there for god knows how long before some asshole pushed their way past me. My attention snapped to the task at hand and i continued towards the library. “Oh, fuckoff.” There were no lights on behind the double glass doors. Just a simple sign that told me it would be closed for the next week. I slammed my fist on the wall in anger, clenching my teeth. What now? I had to find this kid eventually. Letting out a huff of a sigh and pacing around in small circle, I allowed my mind to wander. The last time I’d gone for tea at Emma Braxton’s house was when I was about 12. I’m nearly 19 now. I know for a fact that it’s going to be weird and awkward. I had no idea how I would explain this to Tom. He always seemed to get antsy when I held on to the past and stopped looking at the future. He was always set on the now. Living in the moment. He hated when people spoke about childhoods or anything as close as yesterday. So, to not risk a punch to the gut, I slipped my phone out of my pocket and called him. The phone rang about three times before he picked up with a gruff hello. “Hiya, Tom. So, I know I promised to help you with your thing tonight but I’ve just been invited over to Emma’s house.” “So?” his answer was annoyingly blunt and I kept pacing in my circle. “So, I’m going to her house. I can’t help you tonight.” “But you promised.” Fear began to settle in my stomach a little but I couldn’t be scared. I don’t like being scared. It shows weakness. And I’m not weak. “I know I promised but I’ll just have to reschedule you.” The line went silent for a moment and I could hear the clatter of objects on the other end. “Alright. Tomorrow tonight is when you help me though. You’ll be sorry if you don’t.” The line went dead and I just quietly nodded to myself.
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