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pullstrings‌:

He still looked a little rough around the edges. Jungah thought. She took note that he had more tattoos now, which made him look more like the men that flanked her regularly. It was nice that tattoos were a little more common now for keeping things under wraps. Though, she’d not let her men dress as she remembered Tommy did.

“I’m glad, that means I still look well.” She already believed she looked good; Jungah rarely needed the compliments of others to reassure her. “You, on the other hand, look a little different. Not a lot, but enough.” Jungah bent her knees slightly and traced a bit of the tattoo on his neck with her finger. “This, for instance.” It’d probably fade over time since it was so exposed—but at least he wouldn’t need to do it in the same way her family did. She retracted her hand though and stood up straight, peering past him at his notebook. “I guess some time away with yourself was enough to forget yourself, huh? That sounds a little opposite of what should happen, if you ask me.”

Awkwardly, she stood above him still, hovering as she hoped he’d catch the hint. “See, this is the part where you’d ask a woman to take a seat,” she bit her bottom lip, a new wave of memories overcoming her of doing a similar lecture in the past, “and you’d put something down for me to sit on.”

enough to forget yourself. and forget himself he did. easy enough when the only way he ever even knew himself was through the women he cycled through. but now, for once in his life, he had no one. maybe all that transpired was meant to lead him to this realization. tommy was a lot less optimistic, however. for now, he rather focus on jungah’s touch.

“ah, of course,” he responded, taking off his denim jacket and placing it beside him. “here we are.” tommy patted the spot, looking up at her. “nice an’ warm.”

was that what he wanted? to mimic the couples nearby? perform some sort of normalcy for once?

“it’s funny being here,” he stated matter-of-factly, looking past her, “I came for some inspiration but this feels like the wrong place.” it felt odd jumping into conversation, knowing nearly nothing of her life since she was barely twenty years old. jungah was always secretive, not up for much talking from the heart. and tommy liked it that way. she was real, yet sometimes only a figment. they knew each other intimately and how the other worked, and that was all that mattered. intimacy is funny that way.

“I’ve been writing...something different. it’s working, I think.” tommy nodded to himself, his thoughts visibly carrying him away as he held his notebook still. “feels foreign, but I don’t know, maybe that’s what I gotta do.”

[baskuiat]

pullstrings‌:

The accountant across from Jungah seat would pipe up with something about the investments they had, or questions about this or that—stuff that was important and that she did keep tabs on, but she didn’t like the process of crunching the numbers herself. Instead, she was fiddling with her phone, reading the news for anything that looked salacious or worrisome for her.

“And this…”

“Uh huh.”

It was like that for another hour until he left and Minwoo told her that she had no other appointments (she already knew this and proceeded to tell him that— he rolled his eyes). It was a relief, since her mind was wandering.

She didn’t want to be there, but she didn’t know where to go. It was a strange, listless feeling she couldn’t pinpoint.

Then, of course, the phone that was still in her grasp vibrated, and a name she had to remind herself of brought back a flood of late nights, roaming hands, and needed distractions from years ago. It’d be rather strange to spend the night with him after all this time so she expected that wasn’t what he wanted (but, it wouldn’t surprise her if he didn’t change at all).

So, he’d probably be a good distraction now, right?

[sms; Kuddo ] Sure.

And she was off, in her car, to get a distraction.

…

When Jungah found him, by himself, she didn’t sit down at first. She took a moment to stare at him from above and recount the last time they even were in contact. A text, probably. She deleted messages too often to remember what it had last been about, but she could throw out a few guesses.

“It’s rude to ask a woman to come to you out of the blue.”

She said it with a smile, partially serious and partially joking.

“It’s nice to know you’re alive.”

before turning back to look over his shoulder, he already knew it was her. it was all too familiar—her tone of voice, her jests and teases, her interiority. his face lit up with a bright, gap-toothed smile. 

“oh, yeah?” he teased back, his brows raised, “missed me?” 

he bit back his grin, turning his face to the water. endless thoughts clouded his mind as he wondered whether she knew what had happened since they last had seen (and felt) each other years ago. she must know. she knows everything. but tommy wasn’t as popular as he thought, so he ended up not making many headlines at the time. sure, a marijuana scandal is a big press day, but it all eventually fizzles. he got in and out as quietly as possible.

part of him wanted to know if she checked on him throughout the years. his heart raced at the thought she wouldn’t.

“you haven’t changed one bit.”

and it was true—at least to his recollection. while they met when they were both much younger, she remained charming and fresh-faced. it was one of the many things that attracted him to her. tommy, on the other hand, had acquired many more tattoos, most noticeably the palm fronds on his neck that crawled up to his shadowed jawline. now nearing his thirties, his once bright eyes began to finally reflect the life he had lived.

tommy searched for her gaze as he spoke. 

“y’know, seeing you is like...being myself again.” 

sheepishly, he looked down at his hands, fingering the pages of his notebook.

[baskuiat]

august 3rd, 2019 - @pullstrings

with a heavy sigh and notebook in hand, tommy sat down on the grass not too far from the water. he had come to the han river for some writing inspiration and fresh air. but as soon as he arrived, he began to regret it. everywhere he looked there were young couples giggling and cooing under trees and much more good-looking young men and women jogging right under his nose. while it had already been a few months since he was released from prison (early, with probation at that), tommy felt odd in public spaces. he rarely grocery shopped or went out to eat. most of his work was done in the comfort of his own home. he tried his best to stay out of trouble now that he felt some sense of career stability. and yet, he missed his old self. old friends. old flames.

pursing his lips in thought, he reflected a bit on what it was he actually wanted. sometime between when he moved to seoul and the moment his sentence was set, he had decided that he wanted to become known for making music. not as an addict or sick person. now that he was out, he debated whether it was that he wanted to be known for his music or simply just known. sitting in arguably the most populated area he had inhabited as of late, he felt largely insignificant and unseen in his baseball cap. maybe notoriety was what he was looking for all along. absentmindedly, he took out his phone and began to scroll through his contacts for some hopeful affirmation. mid-way he stopped. jungah? he mouthed out the name. jung-ah? memories came rushing in. quickly, he messaged her.

[ sms » jungah ? ] hey. remember me? 

tommy snapped a photo of the twinkling water that reflected the setting sun, making sure the illuminated bridge was recognizable in the distance so that it was unmistakable where he was. he attached the photo in the chat.

[ sms » jungah ? ] let’s meet.

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jail???

// hi friends (if ur reading this). i got bored and remembered i jotted down the login for this account this time and was able to log in. hi hi hi. i see some of u are still active. i’m beyond impressed.

idk what to say besides i deleted all the icons i made of tommy bc i thought i wouldnt ever return but like i said i got bored and then thought maybe i should write a lil?? maybe.

i guess i havent done any character development since 2017. maybe tommy went to jail for marijuana use? and then released an album from jail (e sens??). so maybe he is out now? maybe.

i’m mostly sad i made all these *nice* edits for canon relationships w tommy and never posted them... jungah.. the lovecrime. sungjoon the dealer. harley the babygirl. miss y’all

[baskuiat]

▢ 879 likes ▢ kuddoe bitch I'm lost    view all 606 comments    oe__fan come back to toronto!!!!!    xxxiri.s wow i thought u were in jail

[baskuiat]

  TM @baskuiat • 3h

who do you belong to now?

  1:42 PM - 7 Jul 2017 • Details                                                                                 Flag Media

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[baskuiat]

she awoke sometime past midnight, the sticky july air suffocating her. beside her slept tommy, half naked with tousled hair peaking out from under the white pillows. he had let his hair grow out for the summer and suddenly he stopped getting asked if he was really korean. funny how that worked after so many years.

before they went to bed that night they had gotten into a fight. something about how his tone of voice was both strident and disinterested. well then how do you want me to sound? not like that. choose one. tommy had had enough.

but somehow the girl stayed despite all the heavy sighs. now, awake, she seemed to weigh her options. it was probably best she left without another word. looking out into the ceiling tall windows, she could see the moon shining, a small crescent in the sky. its light made the small and empty bedroom somewhat recognizable.

tommy pretended to sleep, but her stirring awoke him. he did not want to say goodbye or go through the act of pretending like he wanted her to stay. so even while he felt her gaze on him, he kept his eyes shut, waiting for the opening and closing of the front door to signal her departure. he sat up and scratched his head.

“fuck her,” he murmured, aggravated at the realization that he was once again alone. the feelings of unworthiness came rushing in. it was easy to forget that no one really cares about you when you are busy entertaining partners. it is when they walk out that bouts of loneliness hit. at the risk of being rejected, he could phone a friend. but his heavy heart decided against it. 

he could make good use of his time and attempt to work on a song, something he always says he will do but never does. the fact was he hadn’t written anything good in months—at least nothing like the songs that got him well known.

[+889, -157] im so tired of artists that change their style because theyre in a relationship. we liked your style in the beginning. why change? [+706, -88] he should really consider just modeling. he’s so good looking. music just isn’t a thing he’s good at. [+640, -121] kim kuddo can’t write anything good when he’s in a relationship. how pathetic.

why did he check what people had to say online? first it was the way he looked, how broken his korean was, now what? it never ends. times were simpler back then, when he first arrived. he was younger, had less to worry about. making friends was easy. everyone loved him. summer nights were endless parties where the soju poured and spilled and girls’ dainty hands ran across his lap. now, well, what now?

[baskuiat]

Must I saint               myself at the altar of your thighs, house               your sweat, cross myself three times before               bells chime for more salt. Wound me instead.

— Carly Joy Miller, from “Ceremonial Psalm,” published in pinwheel

[baskuiat]

⚘⚘ send this to ten bloggers you think are amazing. Spread the love. ( ﾉ ꒪▿꒪)ﾉ*

꒪▿꒪

[baskuiat]

September 22. Nothing.

Franz Kafka - from The Diaries of Franz Kafka, 1910-1923 

[baskuiat]

aidonaea:

The deity then kept her silence, letting him drown in his own thoughts as she with her own. The burgundy wine dancing in her veins as she let it consume her like a comforting warmth that became her mission. An acceptance not only those who look for her want but she herself needs. Yue is a god yet the happy endings of fairy tales shared in the wake of the night is nowhere to be found. 

“The irony of it all is that life is and will be never easy.” She began, after another sip of her wine. Nothing is set in stone except for life and death. How a human uses their time is their business but as long as gods with the likes of her exist, their business is the god’s business.

“Your selfish needs is what is making it more difficult than it should have been.” Honesty rolled off her lips like the warning red that she meticulously painted on. The goddess was kind to the deserving but she only speaks of the unfiltered truth regardless of the outcome because she knows, fate is in the stars and with the Moiras and herself. “It hurts because you covet what you want and not what you need.”  

“Like investing in temporary solutions than finding ways in fixing the problem. A temporary feeling easiness.” 

The way she spoke so uninhibited about his selfish ways made his blackened heart sink. A feeling crept over him, diverting his gaze onto the pools of alcohol, making him shudder with a pang. If it was guilt, then it was strange as to why such a feeling felt so foreign. 

Maybe because this stranger knew about his way of living all too well, quickly realizing his flaws. She read him like an open book, one he tried to always keep shut, and it bothered him how the words she freely spoke were honest and correct. But it was far too difficult to seek the necessary, so instead he relied on only wants and desires. Cheap thrills in passing moments.

“Do you think it’s ever possible,” he asked, his fingers fidgeting with a golden ring, “to leave that life behind?”

Kuddo’s empty eyes looked up from his distractions. He felt as though he was marked from birth and his fate was sealed. “Then, will it be easier?”

Thoughts of the impossible raced by, of a better life where he was not the Kuddo he knew, but someone entirely different—a youth with a happy upbringing that did not have his identity fragmented and scattered—someone to respect and love. “Never mind, I know it’s not.” 

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▢ 911 likes ▢ kuddoe afterhours    view all 60 comments    milly.x 사랑해요    kyum92 thicc

[baskuiat]

ur dp makes u look ugly

“Haaa, look at ya nose. Nose long like garden hose.”

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I guess im supposed to be happy with all the fame and fortune, but I’m still pretty fucking depressed

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📬

Only when it was typically too late did Tommy ever check his mail. The tiny metal rectangle always filled to capacity with flyers and coupons and other shit he had no interest or time for. Maybe if he checked it more than once a month, the task wouldn’t be so overwhelming tedious, but good habits are hard to make (or something like that).

This time around he was actually expecting something of importance, not an overdue bill or an adaptor for his laptop that shipped in a tiny cardboard box much too big for the size of item, but something that got him out of bed and dressed before noon. With keys in hand, he headed down, hoping mail had already arrived for the day. 

Of course, once he reached the rows and rows of mailboxes, it took him some time to locate his apartment number. It’s by apartment numbers, right? he thought to himself, fumbling with the tiny, silver key. Fuckin’ obviously, Tommy.

The door opened with some difficulty, but alas, he did it. As expected, it was stuffed with all the neighborhood ads, the cheap paper crinkled and torn in order to make room for more of its kind. Removing what was now an irrelevant invitation to the summer food festival, his search came to a halt. Atop a pile of letters lay a deep purple vegetable, an eggplant. 

“What the fuck?”

[baskuiat]

your dp makes him look like a fuccboi

If you find me to be INTIMIDATING in any way, anonymously send ☠ along with the reasons why.

// there is absolutely no evidence to prove he is not, so..

[baskuiat]

bc ur fc looks like a drug dealer :3c

If you find me to be INTIMIDATING in any way, anonymously send ☠ along with the reasons why.

// HOOBOY 

lmaooooo ok BUT he’s not so. cut him some slack. he didn’t ask to be born this way.