krysmk-blog

[krysmk-blog]

she stifles a laugh, tries to pretend that it doesn't wrench her heart still, just a little, when there is a fear that flickers very real in the back of wide dark eyes.

that's the problem with taeyong - those eyes. pretty and expressive and wide and the change in their friendship has been so obvious in them, in the fear that piques his heightened senses.

logically it makes sense. he has instincts of predator and prey, so to speak, and she has become some kind of fright, some visceral predator to creep in the dark. she has become this thing that nightmares are made of, that wakes the ancient fears of darkness and the unknown. it shouldn't be a surprise that she affects him most of all, that the fear creeps beneath his skin and boil sin his veins but god does she hate it. she hates herself for it, for putting that fear there, that uncertainty, for being unable to stamp it out.

so she turns it into a game, as she does with everything, laughing as her fingers skim his cheek softly. "is that my job?" she questions back at him playful, flickers away before she shifts, before she whispers quiet in his ear, scampering backwards with a quick laugh that she hides behind her hands.

"oh, don't call me that." she complains, but in honesty, if there's anyone that could have her playing to the noona stereotype its taeyong, with wide eyes and soft hair and nervous smiles. but his fear as her one step ahead of him, at least for now, scampering away back and watches him shift, fast, quick, quicker than she can be.

his new senses have him able to corner her quick, to anticipate movements he can't even see- everyone got better powers than she did, but even her defeat as her laughing as her shoulders thump to the wall, nose scrunching upwards as she reveals herself - suddenly visible. but, as he learns quickly, intangible. her fingers lift to pass through his head as she moves as if to skim them against his cheek, something she knows will chill and tingle.

"you feel cold and funny and dumb, huh, and how is that any different than normal?" she teases, but she's been ghostly for too long and it has a nearby knicknack rattling suddenly off the shelf, a painting sliding lopsided with a screech as the fastening drags against plaster, something that has her wincing slightly, one eye squeezing shut as she flinches from the sound. it prompts her to tangibility again, a purely human girl- though cold, though frightening.

the sound of an alarm sounds, beeping in the space between them and she pouts, playful. "guess you win this time." she teases, pats at his cheek lightly. "since you win you should treat me to lunch." she announces, as if this makes senses at all.

97 seconds

“are you here?” he asks. “it must be you, i feel–” for all he was smart, taeyong can’t really force himself to find the right words to express himself. he bits his lip. “funny… and dumb and it’s so cold so it must be you.” he’s painfully aware of how ridiculous he must look, literally talking to the wall. the fact the really didn’t stand a chance against krystal is making holes at his confidence. 

[krysmk-blog]

its sort of unfair.

the meteor stole whatever vague scraps of charisma she had had. she had always been a strange thing, morbid and selfish and snarky. she had always been a little bit different, a little bit off: knew too little of boundaries and too much about the way people's minds seemed to work, to tick, knew the buttons to push but not when to push them and when to hold off. so wasn't it kind of unfair that the meteor had only made it worse? now she was even more distant, even stranger, even more offputting. the only reason she managed now was her looks, and she knew those would fade with time. and then what? she would be some wrinkled crone who scared off the neighbors with only her presence? some aged freak who could walk through walls and haunt her neighbors in a pale mimicry of the dead until she too died?

but yoongi? the change had only made him better. brighter. it had taken the charm already innate in the husky rumble of his voice and the crooked tilt of his smile and magnified it to the point it was nearly blinding. she hated it. where she was doomed to repel the people around her, yoongi drew them in like a magnet - all of them, and fuck if that wasn't fair. how was she going to hold onto him, knowing that? when the sight of her struck fear into everyone?

so it was a game of push and pull, so she could pretend, when he pulled away for good, that she hadn't wanted anything anyway. that she wasn't that invested. that she didn't care that much. and he knows it. he knows he's all magnetism and charisma now and she laughs in his face, like it isn't true, like she isn't overwhelmed by it, by him, by everything that has changed and all the things that haven't. "you notice anyone who looks twice at you, you narcissistic bitch." she informed him sagely, fighting off the hint of a grin, even as a laugh plays quiet, husky in between them. he turns away and she follows, endlessly trailing after him when she knows one day he will outpace her, outrun her.

his hand is warm, impossibly so, and it burns against her skin, leaves her heart racing. so she counteracts foolishly, perhaps, steps inside him with a laugh that rings between his ears, until she can see him shiver, can almost feel the movements of him around her, shoulders shimmying and his eyes scrunching closed as his lips parted in a grimace, an exhalation of displeasure and surprise s she stepped through him entirely. she turned back to look at him with a laugh, fingers slipping forward to tug at the zipper of his hoodie, up and down in a hiss of movement and he speaks, lazy, words that echo in her chest. When he moves closer their hands tangle together, fall to the side. When he moves closer there is a heat that builds, consumes, his hand hot against her skin. "of course you would, you're my little bitch. you'd do anything i asked." she teases easily in return, cuts off the indignant comment sure to follow by pressing up to her tip toes to fit their lips together, lashes sweeping her cheeks as her eyes flutter closed.

cold hearted.

he laughs out of disbelief, lips left slightly parted when he moves his gaze from her eyes down to the hand playing with his zipper. he stuffs one hand into the pocket of his hoodie and reaches for her hand with his other to stop her, holds it in the air while he mirrors the devilish pull of her lips, “if you wanted me inside you, you could’ve just asked.” this isn’t a lie, both of them know, but he still smirks anyway, plays it off as a joke even as he tugs on her hand to pull her closer. he takes one step forward to minimize the distance between them, loosens his grip on her and lets their intertwined hands fall down to their sides. his other hand slides out of his pocket and reaches for her cheek instead, sliding his thumb against cool skin, and he continues low, teasingly, “i’d be more than happy to please.”

[krysmk-blog]

[krysmk-blog]

it would be harder to hang out with joohyun, knowing the elder knows every little corner of her mind, if joohyun made her talk about it. if joohyun echoed the thoughts that stuttered in her veins, that prompted her pulse to jumping. it would be harder if joohyun looked at her with sympathy now, knowing what she knew. knowing about the skeletons that krys has had locked up so tight for so long. but god, its almost a relief. to have someone around whom she can breathe easy. with joohyun there are no secrets- there can't be any- and for a girl wrapped up so tightly in them, in fear and uncertainty and guilt, it is nearly freeing.

she doesn't have to tell joohyun that she's afraid. afraid of herself, afraid of yoongi, afraid of opening up, afraid that its too late to even try. she doesn't have to tell joohyun that what she is now, this fear that creeps into people's bones around her, makes her sick. she doesn't have to tell her how badly she wants to grasp them all tight, pull them in close. joohyun knows but she doesn't question, doesn't pressure, doesn't push or pry or lecture and for that krystal will always, always be grateful. and this is why she seeks her own, when she knows joohyun would probably rather be alone- real comfort is hard to find for krys, and she is just jealous and anxious and selfish enough to push herself into joohyun's comfort zone to do so.

they pass the joint back and forth slow, savoring the burn and the smoke and the haze of it. she tugs at the ends of a dusty blue hoodie, pushing the sleeves out of the way of her hands, only to find them gradually falling back down her forearms again, in sad mimicry of the march of the universe toward entropy. "not really." she murmurs in return, a knee jerk reaction. what is there to say? the fucking bastard just lingers around his apartment, drinks himself under the table, flashes that stupid smile, laughs husky and low - she cuts off the train of thought abruptly, censors herself for her own dignity's sake, as if joohyun doesn't already know her secrets anyway, the things she won't even admit to herself. she shifts closer to the warmth of the other girl, lets her head tilt to lean against her temple, sighs soft as her eyes closed against the light of the sinking sun.

joohyun's words send a weight plummeting into her stomach, and she sneaks the joint back, pulls a hit so long and deep that her lungs scream and ache and singe, a sense of foreboding lacing her veins when she exhales. "what kinda suspect?" she responds flatly, when she can trust her voice not to betray the emotions that threaten her usual calm, tongue flicking over her lips. there's a pause and krystal prompts her before she can help it, a questioning, "unnie?" that lilts between them tenuous, as if she's not sure she really, truly wants to know.

–halcyon

“just because, i ran into him the other day, you know. his thoughts were a little…mm.” joohyun pauses, reaches over to tap a finger against krystal’s knee. “suspect?” it wasn’t so much that they were bad necessarily, but after hearing krystal’s thoughts over so many months, joohyun thinks it’s for the best that she knows. she’s in the business of keeping secrets usually, but she’s not sure if this is even classified as one, just knows krystal would probably want to hear about it.

[krysmk-blog]

△ & ♤

△ an emergency/panicked/etc text

( OUTGOING CALLS  taetae @ 1:45am  taetae @ 1:45am  taetae @ 1:46am )

[ taetae ] THERE IS A COCKROACH IN THE KITCHENT HIS ITS NO T A DRIlL THIS IS NOT A DIRLl COM E KILL IT [ channie ] COME KILL THIS CoCK ROAC h W YOUR FIRE 

♤ last three tweets

krys. @kryscasperwhy do i even tweet i have like ten followerskrys. @kryscaspero right bc twitter is the land of memes and nihilismkrys. @kryscasperaka my home

[krysmk-blog]

✩ & ☐

☐ a late night text

[ taetae ] concept: you and jongin keeping it the fuck down

✩  three most recent texts sent

[ jonginnie ] im fucking serious buy a goddamn ball gag[ chan ] u awake lets get fucked up[ baeby ] ((literally just an attachment of a 10 second clip of him uh..pleasuring himself))

[krysmk-blog]

sidenote: taebaeby for taeyong bc he’s a cute baby.  taetae for taemin but she should change it bc he’s rude prolly.

[krysmk-blog]

☐, ♤ three texts deleted before sending

☐ a late night text

[ taebaeby ] wanna go harass jongin at his shift[ taebaeby ] it just feels like a good night to bother jonginnie 

♤ three texts deleted before sending

[ cabbagepatch ] hey around yoongi have you heard - [ cabbagepatch ] do you think, if i told him would he -  [ cabbagepatch ] sometimes i think i should just tell him but its too late now right ? 

[krysmk-blog]

[ social memedia! ] ☼, △, ✩, ♤

☼ text you didn’t send but should have

[ yoon ] look -[ yoon ] hey i wanted to talk about -[ yoon ] i know its getting close to like, the anniversary but [ yoon ] i know this is like years too late to talk about but before i came here -[ yoon ] hey wanna meet up later i kind of wanted to talk about -

△ an emergency/panicked/etc text

[ taetae ] dude am i the only one fucking creeped by these suits all over town or what is this like, me being a morbid fucking weirdo or

✩  three most recent texts sent

[ myungoppa ] hey freak wanna get dinner [ yeonnie ] buy earplugs[ yoon ] im coming over tonight dont be doing anything you wouldnt want on snapchat

[krysmk-blog]

△ !!

△ emergency/panicked/etc text

[ jongjongie ] listen dude im really fucking freaking out can i just[ jongjongie ] can you come over ? am - wait you’re working right[ jongjongie ] can i go there i just [ jongjongie ] don’t want to be alone rn

[krysmk-blog]

SOCIAL MEMEDIA.

Hello kids! we’ve been open a few days now and everyone is plotting and threading so wonderfully, so we thought we’d reward you with something easy and fun! Reblog to participate! We tried to present these so that they could be duplicated easily, so feel free to send multiples and answer more than once!

✩  three most recent texts sent ♡ last text sent while drunk ♤ three texts deleted before sending ♢ send a snapchat ♤ last three tweets ☄ text you shouldn’t have sent but did ☼ text you did send but shouldn’t have △ an emergency/panicked/etc text ☐ a late night text

[krysmk-blog]

“She is delightfully chaotic; a beautiful mess. Loving her is a splendid adventure.”

- Steve Maraboli

[krysmk-blog]

summer sun. (past)

@mktaemin

At eighteen, Krys knows that this isn't going to last forever. She's always been a realist, in her strange way. She knows this isn't the be all and end all of her life, that someday they will fall apart, maybe even grow apart entirely. She likes to think the ties of friendship will latch them together for decades to come, but the world is a cruel place. These, however, are not things she concerns herself with. At eighteen, Krys only bothers to think of the present, sitting on the porch swing set outside the little cafe, flip flops dangling from toes painted in electric blue and a cigarette between the fingers of one hand, Taemin's laced to intertwine with hers on the other. Whether or not this will last forever, for the moment she is happy and that is enough.

Its idyllic, honestly, the lazy summer afternoon, the buzz of cicadas, the sun creeping slow towards the horizon, the smell of smoke and coffee and sunlight and honeysuckle heavy around them, his palm warm against hers. She glances to the side to offer him a grin, one he returns easy, quick, cute, and she tucks her head against his shoulder in response, glancing down at the screen of his phone. "Find anything fun to do tonight?" she questioned, had instructed with a pout that he find some mischief for them to indulge in, something to celebrate the freedom of summer and the twisted joy of youth.

She scoots her way closer to him, until their shoulders touch, thighs brush, and she can feel him warm beside her, a heat that should be uncomfortable given the heavy summer air but she can't bring herself to mind too terribly, takes a drag of the cigarette and exhales slow, offers it to him. In the kindness of youth they're both terribly broke, sharing their vices as they come across them. "Or we could bail on everyone else for tonight. Go up to the woods, I think I could snag some of my aunt's liquor." she muses idly, thumb sweeping against his skin, sandals skimming against the stone beneath them as they swing lazy back and forth.

[krysmk-blog]

As the bathroom door slammed hard to meet its frame, Krys had to clap a hand over her lips to stop herself from laughing out loud, brightly and raucously, stifled it to a little squeak of sound that is covered by the other's cursing, the whine from his lips. Poor little thing. Baekhyun looked nice like this, all broad shoulders and damp hair and narrow hips, well muscled and wholly handsome, even despite (or in part because of) the scars and scratches she knows have come from their various adventures. They've always had an uncanny connection, an awareness of one another's quirks that keeps them tied together, and she hopes that it will sustain - even now, with her increased strangenesses and oddities.

She expressed this desire by turning up unannounced in his bathroom to spy on him, to bother him, to poke and prod her way into his life, lest he ever try to forget he cared about her, that they were friends, that they were connected. She watched him glance around the room in stubborn awareness, knowing that she must be there. It had her giggling quiet, a breathy sound that crept beneath the pounding of water against tile, the barest squeak of her finger against the glass. He remained silent, eyes catching on the detail only briefly - perhaps he hadn't seen it? She glanced back at the little drawing, at him, watched him bend with appreciation - she was, in fact, not immune to an awareness of his attractive qualities. Who could be?

He promptly made it worse, hands skimming over his body as he leaned back against the wall, a pretty sigh from his lips - he gave himself away, though, the murmuring of her name, the lilt of it against his tongue. He was doing it to bait her and, well, god it was working. She nipped down on the edge of her lip, a grin tugging at her features, finger squeaking against the glass as she etched "4/10, nice effort" on the glass, watched his lips pull into a smirk that she had always loved on him, if she was being honest - lopsided, cheeky, boyish, and just the barest hint of smug and bratty. Ridiculous.

So she upped the ante a little, curled her fingers into the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her head- he couldn't tell, of course, that this had happened. At least, until she let it release from her grip, the fabric suddenly visible as it left contact with her person, dropping to the tile in a heap. She watched it pull his attention and shifted, fingers hooking into her shorts to slide them down long legs, denim pooling around her ankles, visible when she stepped away from it. These were the two most tangible markers of her presence in the room now and she bit back a laugh, a comment, anything - she wanted to see his reaction, after all. Wanted to call his bluff- or even better, find he was willing to go blow for blow.

haunted

He took his time, making a show of rubbing his hands against his skin gently trailing his fingertips over his hips now and again, teasing. “Krys,” he sighed, letting his lips fall open with a soft gasp as his hands continued to slide dangerously low on his hips. He tried his best to fight off the smile tugging at the edges of his lips, but he only managed to keep it down to a lopsided smirk.

[krysmk-blog]

rebelamy:

Character Aesthetics: Alaska Young

Sometimes you loose a battle. But mischief always wins the war.

[krysmk-blog]

there's a laugh on her lips when he swings his head back to find her there, eyes creasing into a smile as the other lets out a stream of swears, punctuated with her name. she likes the way it sounds from him, the husky rumble of the syllables he once found so unfamiliar, the very same that come so easily now. she reaches up a hand to pat his cheek, tugs an earbud from his ear and lets it dangle as she drops her hands. "you do want too, though." she points out easily, unbothered, because he's already smiling: he just hasn't noticed it yet.

and for all his rumbling protests their fingers tangle together, palms fit close and the heat of his skin against hers impossible. every touch is like that now, burning into frigid skin, warming a frozen girl from the outside in. she seeks it out, desperate to recall that warmth, to find that heat again, that same spark that reminded her she was alive even when she had wished in the distracted abstract to be dead. and what a joke it was now, to have been given almost exactly what she had wanted, while still being shackled to the reality she might have liked to leave behind.

she ignores it in favor of dragging him towards the playground, ignoring the way she can see the hairs on the back of his neck stand, knows intuitively that his heart is likely racing, and not for the reasons that it once did. it was probably better that they had never managed to get their shit together, to give themselves over to whatever it was between them. who wanted to be in love with a ghost? who could, even, love someone who instilled fear instinctive in those around them? his thumb is warm where it drags over her skin, sends a shiver down her spine, her own pulse racing as she trails after him, offers an excited and exaggerated gasp. "kimchi stew. my god, truly a headline for the ages, hurry lets call jongin he can interrupt the broadcast to announce it." she teases easily, the soft give and take that they have grown so accustomed too. "as if, i'm the most interesting thing that's ever happened to you, including your shitty powers."

his powers aren't shitty. she's jealous of them. if krys has become offputting and fear inducing, yoongi has become ever more charming, impossibly sly and charismatic to the point she struggles to look away from him, gravitates towards him despite her best efforts, her most intensely sought out distractions. obnoxious. she trails after him anyway, until she decides she's played too nicely, intangibility fading, leaving her appearance and form alone, her hands passing through his grip. she slides forward to occupy the space where he stands, shivers at the feeling of it, the strangeness, takes another step until she's ahead of him, turns to face him. she breathes deep, lets herself be tangible once more and yanks the zipper of his hoodie down and up again, an idle sound as she laughs at the expression on his face. "what, feel weird to have someone inside you?" the lilt of her lips is devilish, wry. "i've always been a fan of it, myself."

cold hearted.

she laughs again and so does he, softly so, and answers sarcastic, “you’re wrong, one of the regulars changed up his order today, instead of tofu stew, he ordered kimchi stew. can you believe that? truly the most interesting day at work by far.” he grins and pulls ahead of her then, drags them slow towards the swing set as he snorts, “you think too highly of yourself, i’d have plenty of things to talk about without you.” 

[krysmk-blog]