mpshiah

[mpshiah]

You have the biggest heart. It is your greatest quality and probably also your biggest flaw.

The best and worst thing someone told me. (via 04newby)

[mpshiah]

･ﾟ♡   𝓅𝒶𝓎𝓅𝒽𝑜𝓃𝑒

 &. —    @angelxmp   . ˟

     With fingers moving all their own. There is a look of panic which paints itself along that of girl’s visage. Brows furrowed ever so slightly, as a hand hastily presses that of a familiar number unto the buttons of a phone booth’s key; while another holds onto a cell phone which doesn’t belong to her.  And, the hours prior to the realization of her phone being missing, had consisted of a chaotic day. A number of run-ins, and careless mistakes racking that of her mind as she tries to think back to the exact moment she could have possibly dropped her phone and picked up another’s. Taping her fingers impatiently along the glass casing of the phone booth’s walls, it’s that of a vague memory which grazes Shiah’s recollections.

     However, it’s a loud ring which rips her attention away from the possible mix up as she waits eagerly for the sound of someone answering.  Someone to pick up her phone.

      Desperately, she prays they won’t ignore her call, as she doesn’t have any more spare change to feed the public machine, for just one more call. Silent. She waits. Until the ringing stops and it’s the blissful sound of someone picking up on the other side that almost has Shiah squeal with glee. And, she might have actually done so, if it weren’t for a complete stranger on the other end, and the concern for their ears. But nonetheless, it’s a feeling of relief which rushes through her body.

      ❝ Hey, ❞ the words leave her lips in a subconscious greeting. Out of habit. Routine. Almost instantly, she feels somewhat embarrassed by her own quickness to speak. With a small pause, she thinks to herself for a brief moment, wondering how to approach the situation at hand before she finally continues.   ❝ Well, I guess since you answered, you have my phone... And, I guess if my hunch is right, you’re missing one ? ❞

[mpshiah]

mpxdaehyun:

Daehyun takes a deep breath, pausing just before he passed her. “What?” He had had more than enough of her, and he was not about to stand there and be interrogated for no good reason any longer. But when he glanced at her again, her expression had completely changed. Actually, it was worse. He hated that look, the pity and guilt. It made him acutely uncomfortable. Contempt he could handle, but sympathy was something he did not like.

Even so, he remained still, waiting for the inevitable apology– which would probably make her feel better more than it appeased him. “Yeah, it was. Maybe you should take a moment to use your brain the next time you decide someone is doing something bad.” Was that a little harsh? Maybe, but he really just wanted to escape the situation. If he had to be the asshole to get out of it, so be it.

“Yeah, you were,” he agreed, scoffing softly. At least she admitted it.

Her next words made him hesitate, his brows furrowing slightly as he watched her expression. She seemed earnest, like she really was sorry and she really did want to make it up to him. But he was still skeptical– after all, she’d just been accusing him of being a criminal. It had not made the best first impression.

“I doubt you could make it up to me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment. Maybe he should give her a chance. A second chance, he supposed. Everyone deserved that much, right?

“But I guess you can try.”

     There is a look of surprise that is painted across that of the girl’s visage.

                                 Only, for it to be overcome by the upturned edges of petaled hues.

      ❝ Really ? ❞ Her tone can barely hide her enthusiasm, as her voice is slightly louder than she intends it to be. The words rolling off the tip of her tongue in an unexpected departure whilst her expression unveils the astonishment she feels at that very moment. There is something of thankfulness, which illuminates her gaze. And, inevitably, she can’t control the smile which tugs at the corner of her lips. Almost unable to believe that he is willing to give her a second chance.

         A look of relief washing over delicate features. Her arms fall from their once childish position as she instead scrambles to find something that might be worthwhile. Worth the opportunity to undo all the wrong she had committed within the span of a couple minutes. Something that will be able to redeem her from the foolish behavior she had displayed only moments ago.

           With a brief pause, she thinks to herself. Only before it hits her.

           ❝ Are you hungry ? ❞ She quirks a brow as if a light bulb has gone off within the comforts of her own mind. As if she’s discovered something grand,  judging from the eagerness which is seen on her countenance. Seeming to have thought of something that may make things better. Or, at least do an efficient job of trying to do just that.With the grin plastered across her lips, her face illuminated with a new, more friendly appearance. Shiah is quick to continue.  

      ❝ How about I get you something to eat ? Anything you want. It’s on me, ❞ she offers the other in hopes he will say yes.

         ❝ What do you say ? ❞

･ﾟ♡    𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

[mpshiah]

Yooa in Secret Garden MV Making

[mpshiah]

mpxmia:

It was always great to see customers happy, but this one made Mia unable to hold back a smile. She was so doll-like and cute that it was almost a shame she found her dream dress so quickly – Mia would’ve loved to put her in about fifty other dresses.

But that wasn’t exactly acceptable, so she didn’t.

Instead, Mia let the girl twist and turn as much as she wanted to. “I’ll give you their card,” she said, returning the thankful look with a happy smile. This was what she loved. Well, fashion was what she loved, making things was what she loved, but helping people find their fashion sense was also part of that. Secretly, Mia wanted to be a fashion guru on one of those weird reality shows. Secretly.

She grinned and shook her head. “The name’s Mia. And, please, I enjoyed helping you find the perfect dress. And you look super pretty in it, honestly. Like a doll.” Her grin widened. “And what’s your name?”

One last look at her customer in that beautiful dress, and Mia remembered there was more she had to do. “I’ll let you get changed back. You can take your time if you want to,” she said with a conspiratorial wink. “Just come up to the counter with the dress once you’re ready.” And with that, Mia left to clean up the other dresses she’d pulled from the racks.

          It’s that of a new name which Shiah test, feeling the letters roll off the tip of her tongue in a gentle flow. Making a mental note to herself,  to remember the other’s name just in case she is ever to be in need of a special gown ever again. However, it’s another compliment thrown her way ━ a comment of Shiah’s own doll-like quality ━ which has the girl suddenly shy within Mia’s presence. With a light blush painted across her features, and shaking her head in disagreement. All she can really do is laugh, giving out a small, no, as she finishes it off with yet another laugh. ❝ I’m Shiah, ❞ the girl finally admits with a warm smile.  ❝ thanks again ❞ she motions toward the dress she wears with one more light-hearted sway.

      Watching as the other gives her a small wink, she can’t help but give in to the other’s playful behavior.

       ❝ Oh don’t tell me that. I might never want to take it off, ❞ Shiah jokes, before the other leaves, giving the female the privacy to change back into the clothes she’d come here with. Being by herself, she admires the gown for a little longer. Thinking back to what the other had said about her and the dress which hugs her body, She processes her own appearance, excitement filling her heart for a  few minutes before she finally brings it within herself to depart from the beautiful white material. Taking a little longer than she originally did when putting it on, Shiah finally embraces the comforts of her familiar clothes that she had originally been wearing. Carefully slipping the gown back onto its hanger.

      Strategically, she holds the dress in the manner she vaguely remembers Mia holding it. Making her way out of the dressing room and toward the counter. The way she had been instructed to do so after she was finished changing.

･ﾟ♡   𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓎𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈

[mpshiah]

mpseulgi:

Dreamcatcher

@mpshiah

Panic was the first thing she felt.

She was barely conscious by the time the panic and anxiety had set in, gripping at the inside of her chest so tight she felt she could barely breathe, move, think. Seulgi still isn’t quite sure why these vivid nightmares were such a common occurrence, especially when she hardly sleeps in the first place, and to say they rendered her beyond frustrated was a large understatement.

The routine she knew at heart already–– Slow, deep breaths alongside an attempt to relax her body from the tension that had sewn into her muscles over time the nightmare plagued her mind in her slumber. But Seulgi could never get used to it–– Who could, really? 

With a shaky sigh and a run of her fingertips through her hair that had fallen in messy strands over her eyes, she couldn’t help the moisture forming at the base of her eyelids, nor the quivering of her lower lip. She digs her pearly whites into the pink flesh immediately upon realization, refusing to cry over something so childish such as a nightmare. 

… No. It wasn’t childish, she knows that. She’s frustrated beyond belief, yes, exhausted far from comprehension at the even bigger lack of sleep she’d been receiving quite recently, but she knows there’s a time where you have to cry, be scared, feel vulnerable, and let yourself go, if only for a little bit. There were too many bottled up thoughts in her head, and she wasn’t looking for it to be unbearable.

A swing of her legs over her mattress, and she’s making a move to hurriedly slip on a pair of jeans she had lazily tossed to the other side of the room and a hoodie strewn over her desk chair, making a mental note of how she’s probably beat her earlier record of how long it takes to get ready, and with that she’s out the door with a destination already set in mind.

Shiah.

The name echoes through her mind like a warm breeze, having recalled their first encounter and just how safe and comforted she had made Seulgi feel even within a few minutes, and the more time she spent with Shiah, the more that feeling of warmth and contentedness grew between the two. She was a safe haven, something Seulgi had only ever found rarely before. The thoughts course within her enough she thinks she’s felt a bit better, but she knows she has to talk about it, draw her worries out, and maybe this is just an excuse to see Shiah again, no matter how late it was–– Actually, she had no idea what time it was. 

The thought flees her as a small grin of relief spreads along her lips, having reached her destination with a small shake of her fist in tiny victory. She takes a few moments simply standing at the other girl’s door–– Maybe she should have checked the time, considered Shiah a bit more before showing up and interrupting her precious rest.

But she shakes her head, teeth digging into her lower lip as she raises a hand and gives one, two, three, gentle knocks.

      Silent.

                 ( Asleep.)

      The stiff air of a new apartment that has yet to be lived into is deathly still.

       Unbothered. It’s not even the slightest of ruffling  ━ movement ━ that can be heard, to break the deafening quiet that presses itself into Shiah’s unconscious mind.  There she sleeps. Sprawled across her couch in a strange position as a chapter book lays gently upon her chest. Having fallen asleep in the midst of a read. Far too exhausted to make it to her room as her mind shifts between the stages of deep sleep and a light slumber. Various dreams rack her mind, jumping from that of vague childhood memories, familiar faces, and to that of strange unrealistic creations, her subconscious creates all its own.

    Nonetheless, it’s a peaceful sleep that the female finds herself immersed in.

    That is until it’s the small puttering of footsteps that near her door, which bring the girl closer to consciousness. Their melody playing for her clearly as her enhanced hearing causes her a disturbance. Her ears twitching slightly as she tosses and turns in an attempt to drown out the white noise that takes place outside her door. Convinced the soft sound of feet coming down the hallway must be for one of her neighbors, rather than herself.  Since arriving in Mount Phoniex, most of Shiah’s days had been consumed of adjusting to her new police shifts, unboxing and getting to know as many friendly faces she was able to come across.Sleep ? It wasn’t something the woman had gotten much these days. Hence the reason why Shiah wasn’t jumping with curiosity, wondering as to why someone would be coming to visit the  Ratatoskr Apartments at such a late hour of the night.

    Furthermore, she ignores the visitor’s early indicators of their presence as she surrenders to the bliss of slumber. Doing her best to sleep despite the noise, until it’s a light knocking at her door which causes Shiah’s eyes to flutter open through that of thick lashes. Leaning upward to the sound of a book hitting the floor, the female rubs at her eyes, doing her best to comprehend what she has woken up to. Surrounded by darkness, almost instantaneously it’s a gentle glow which illuminates her skin. Out of comfort. Out of routine. It provides a dim light to contrast against the pitch black atmosphere that swallows her living room whole.

    Standing up form her once comfortable position Shiah heads in the direction that three light knocks had come from. Her body moving without much thought as drowsiness blurs her line of sight. Unaware. She stumbles over a few boxes that have yet to be unpacked, her hair cascading down her small body in a haphazard mess as her bangs frame her face in a sloppy fashion. Without a care. She opens her door, the faint glow that once illuminates her skin is gone.

       It is the image of a familiar female that is seen before her very eyes.

       ❝ Seulgi ? ❞ Her visage grows gentle, consisting of something along the lines of surprise and delight. And, for a brief moment, Shiah leans against her door frame. Her mind working slower than usual. There’s a brief pause that lingers within the older of the two, building up space before the officer is capable of reading the body language of the younger girl who stands in front of her door.

        Almost within seconds, Shiah snaps to reality. A look of concern washing across delicate features as she makes room for the other to enter her home. tender and soft, words escape past parted lips in an unexpected departure. Making themselves heard before the woman has the chance to even think  ❝ Come on in, ❞ she motions the other forward holding the door open for her. Welcoming Seulgi with open arms as she flickers on the light beside the door. Lightening up her home for the other as Shiah senses something wrong,

       ❝ Can I get you anything ?  ❞  she asks, her voice laced with understanding. sympathy dipped in a tone that expressed the worry that was seen clearly across her visage.  ❝ Maybe some tea ? Or even a  blanket ? ❞

[mpshiah]

･ﾟ♡    𝒷𝑒𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝒶 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓀

 &. —    @mpkomatsu  . ˟

       The whole point of joining in this function is supposed to be an excuse for Shiah to come out of her shell a little,( or rather–an excuse to get drunk and dance ). Either way, it’s working and as the night grows shorter, the girl too grows to be a little more carefree. The way she’s suddenly chosen to invite herself into the company of various strange and interesting people. It’s obvious, her weaving in and out of certain social circles will have her winding up in trouble, nonetheless.

         Yet, in this moment she doesn’t seem to care. Surrendering that to the euphoric environment around her. And, in that instant, she wonders.

          Are we human? 

                       or are we dancers?

          In this moment all the little things like don’t concern her as they typically did. The music itself and the fun that is coupled with the mystery behind a mask that are the only things which really matter to her. And, taking a small break from the dancefloor, the female’s slim figure leans against a wall behind her. Admiring the crowd of strangers who are scattered throughout the vicinity. Noticing a girl who stands alone, there is something awfully familiar in her lanky build and dark black hair. Though, blinded by the little amounts of alcohol which were already coursing through her system, Shiah puts it in her best interest to approach the other.

        Soon tapping on the stranger’s shoulder, she waits for her to turn around. A brow quirked as the girl tilts her head to the side. ❝ do you not care for dancing ? ❞ it’s a rather blunt question, and to be honest, something more along the lines of, did you come here alone?–seemed more appropriate.

        Positioning herself beside the unfamiliar woman, Shiah gives the female before her a small shrug. ❝ Do you mind me waiting this one out with you ? ❞ A small laugh is emitted past painted lips while pointing in the direction of the dance floor. Shaking her head softly at those shameless enough to bare their own, peculiar moves.

       ❝ I mean there’s no sense in being by yourself at an event like this, am I right ? ❞

[mpshiah]

mpxmia:

The girl does a quicker job of dressing than Mia had expected, which comes as a relief. Customers are allowed to take their time, of course, but some seem to think that Mia doesn’t have a billion other projects to get to. It’s with her usual charming smile that Mia looks back at the girl, nods, and comes closer to zip her up.

“It fits you very well,” she says once she’s done. Gently, Mia turns her customer around to face the large, floor-length wall mirror on the opposite side of the changing rooms. “You look absolutely beautiful.” Her voice is soft as she speaks and reaches down to fix the way the dress falls. “The shoes go well with it too. We don’t sell them here, but I can recommend you a great shoe store where you can get them.”

          ❝ I love it, ❞ she gives out a small gasp. Honestly, it’s hard for Shiah to believe it’s really her, she is looking at. Watching quietly, a wide smile tugs at the edge of curved lips while the other adjust her dress in front of the mirror. Awestruck by her own image and the way the white gown hugs her body, the girl is almost having a hard time believing it is really she, the employee is complementing.  

           ❝ It’s so pretty... ❞ the words escape her in a hushed whisper as she turns in various angles, admiring the way the dress flows with every move she makes. However, she is broken from her trance as her attention is brought back to the woman beside her.  ❝ Oh, any suggestions on a place to find some shoes would be great ! ❞ She exclaims, offering her a thankful look. 

          Looking back at herself in the mirror, Shiah can’t be more pleased. Falling in love with the dress and it’s breathtakingly beautiful white hue, the girl is so happy with today’s outcome. Turning back to the employee, the female looks to her in attempt to read her visage.  ❝ I don’t know how to thank you enough, ... ❞ her voice trails off as she looks to the other as if for a name. She had begun, ready to express her appreciation for the other before it only then dawned upon her that she hadn’t gotten the employee’s name.

           Letting out a sheepish laugh, she tilts her head slightly. An indicator of her own bashfulness. Embarrassed that she hadn’t asked for her name previously.  

･ﾟ♡   𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓎𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈

[mpshiah]

[mpshiah]

mpxmia:

A smile spread across Mia’s red lips at the girl’s reaction to the second dress. There was always a sense of pride when a customer picked one of the options Mia showed them, especially when it happened so quickly. It meant that Mia knew what she was doing, that she had correctly assessed her customer, and it was often followed by praise.

Praise wasn’t the only reason Mia did this, but she couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t care about it at all.

“Yes, of course, come this way.“ Mia led the girl to their changing rooms, carrying the dress for her and hanging it up in one of the empty ones. “We have some shoes that you can put on as you’re trying on the dress to see how it’ll look.“ She gestured towards the small shoe shelf. “Especially since it’s a long dress, I’d recommend heels.“

After smoothing out the dress one last time, Mia let the girl enter the changing room and closed the curtain behind her, patiently standing outside. “If you need any help, call me.” Especially with the sheer top and the zipper hidden by the lace, this dress wasn’t an easy one to put on by yourself.

But she didn’t want to intrude or assume, so she stayed outside the changing room, waiting for the girl to either come out or call her.

           With the simple shake of her head, Shiah nods as if to inform the other she is listening. Glancing over the various pairs of shoes in which the employ instructs her are meant to be used while trying on dresses. Providing that final touch to each and every magical gown. Giving client’s an idea of what the final product of a breathe taking dress is supposed to look like. Watching as the female departs with the dress she’d been holding and Shiah herself, the girl offers her one last reassuring smile.  ❝ The heels it is then, ❞ the laughs softly, before hearing the sound of the curtain closing behind her. 

         Preparing to try on her dream dress, Shiah undress quickly and quietly. Picking a pair of heels, she slips them on. Carefully taking the gorgeous dress off its hanger, the woman carefully slips it on. Giving herself one quick glance only before turning to call the other. opening the curtain slightly, she looks at the woman.  ❝ mind helping me zip this up ?  ❞ She’s sure she won’t mind, but Shiah asks anyways. Turning slightly to expose her back as she moves her hair out of the way.

･ﾟ♡   𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓎𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈

[mpshiah]

･ﾟ♡   𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽

&. —    @mpxalexios  . ˟

         Grocery store aisles.

                          Music that softly plays over an intercom. 

        There Shiah stands, before a canvas of various boxed goods as they sit neatly upon their shelves. Perplexed. It’s something of confliction that taints that of delicate features as the woman tries to grab for something that is simply out of reach. Something that her short stature simply limits her from doing. Annoyed, the female curses beneath her breath, as she wonders what the hell this grocery store has against short people. ( Even though it wasn’t necessarily their fault. )  She would think that the employees of this place would have thought to make any simple box of macaroni accessible to anyone below the height 5′7".  But, she guesses that simply is not the case as she tries for the fifth time to obtain the box of pasta she practically swears is calling her name.

        Heaving a hefty sigh, Shiah looks longingly at the thing she craves so much. Deep down she knows that there are various other options of pasta that would satisfy her all the same — however, they are not what she’d come here for. Determined, as stubborn as she is, the girl is set on getting the box of macaroni she convinces herself she is in so desperate need of. And, for a splitting second, she even contemplates the pros and cons of trying to climb the shelf herself. That’s how desperate she is. 

          Reluctant to reach out to the others around her at first. However, it is once the cons out weight the pros of such a situation, that the female’s shoulder’s slump in defeat.

         Realizing she can’t complete this task alone. 

        Coming to the conclusion she will need to ask for help. 

       Finally giving the pasta one last, burning, look, she examines her surrounding. Taking in the characteristic of those around her, she looks in hopes of spotting someone of a taller height. Someone she thinks might be able to reach the item she is in dire need of. Though, it’s not long before a particular person catches her interest. Swallowing her own embarrassment  — pride — she approaches the male hesitantly. 

         ❝ um — excuse me ? ❞ Shiah calls out to him in an attempt to gather his attention. Her lips curling into that of a well-placed smile as there is something almost demure in the way she nears him. Shy. Almost ashamed of having to ask the man to help her with such a simple task. Yet, pushing those feelings aside, she musters the courage to finally ask him her question.

         ❝ Would you mind helping me reach something ? ❞

[mpshiah]

･ﾟ♡    𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒹𝒶𝓎'𝓈 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉

 &. —   @jonginxmp  . ˟

              It’s the sound of a small huff which escapes past that of petaled hues. A look of concern, coupled together with an underlying gaze of disappointment, paints itself across the visage of a female’s face. It’s funny. The fact that she finds herself so overwhelmed,  feeling this way over someone who she doesn’t even know. Though, that never seemed to be a factor, when it came to Shiah and her undying need to lend a hand to those in need.  

         Hastily, the officer digs within her first-aid kit.

       Originally — tonight had started off as any other day. Doing some simple patrolling around the city before calling it a night. And, initially, Shiah hadn’t intended on discovering much. Since arriving in Mount Phoniex, there had yet to be anything of great concern around the city. Lack of anything that would have made her job particularly more difficult. That was true, until tonight. And, it had been a troubling shock for the female officer as she came to find the stranger who was beat and badly bruised.

           With the turn of events, here Shiah was.

           Trying to aid the male before her to the best of her capability. In her time at the police academy — back when she was living in Seoul — there had been a little she had learned when it came to the basics of patching someone up. With the shake of her head and a small, tsk, she does her best to examine his injury.  ❝ What were you even doing out here so late at night ?  ❞ Shiah questions the man, her voice sounding like that of a troubled mother, as she offers him a sympathetic expression.

[mpshiah]

wintersokdier:

“But it was not your fault but mine And it was your heart on the line I really fucked it up this time”

[mpshiah]

･ﾟ♡   𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒

&. —    open ! . ˟

           Tonight is a night where nothing seems to matter — reckless minds roaming freely as the only thing worth thinking about is the love that’s in the air, and how much fun can be extracted by the presence of strangers Shiah has yet to meet.  And, on a night known to be one of the most romantic of the year, one would think the woman would have been upset. Devastated by having come to such an extravagant event all by herself, in a city full of unknown faces. However, that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Rather, with the influence of a little alcohol, the girl is smitten in that of a lighthearted bliss.

        Songs slowly beginning to fall into themselves, submitting and dominating one another as chords are coupled along with harmonies, crashing into cacophonies. Working alongside each other until they are morphed into a siren’s song. Pushing and pulling the crowd as they spin between the waltz and body waves. Shiah too has emerged herself into the phantasmagoria of the dance floor.. Fingers intertwined with various partners as lights filtered with tints of pink and cyan are swathing her in their idyllic glow. With her hair styled in it’s elegant do, the flow of her white gown sways with every move she makes. 

        Though as the song which plays among the various gods and demigods comes to an end, she is quick to disappear from the rendezvous of dancers and to the margins where the guest sip wine and inhale champagne. Escaping to where the quiet wallflowers stood to watch — the outer-sphere of conversation tangling with chortles and mountains of music.

         it’s there her gaze falls unto the stranger which suddenly catches her interest. Eye’s following the other as she convinces herself to approach them. The sound of her heels trailing softly behind her almost as if an indicator of her presence. With a gentle movement, she taps the other’s shoulder as an attempt to gather their attention.   

           A sweet smile tugs at the corner of painted lips as she can’t help but take notice of the next song which begins to play.Her eyes glimmering with curiosity, she allows her words to roll off the tip of her tongue in a light purr.

              ❝  would you care to dance ? ❞

[mpshiah]

mpxdaehyun:

Daehyun felt like a seventeen year old kid again, back when he’d been stuck in the group home; the people running the place always looked at everyone with such suspicion and judgment, even if they were like him and they were only there because they had no where to go and no one to look after them until they hit the magical 1-8 and were suddenly thrown out into the world. He had hated that undo suspicion then, and he hated it even more now. 

He was going to school full-time, working two part-time jobs– some days he woke up at dawn and he didn’t crawl back into bed until nearly dawn the next day. He was gladly pushing himself to the limits to strive for something better for himself and his three surviving siblings, and yet he was still getting the same lower-than-dirt look that had haunted him since childhood. Everything had changed, and yet nothing really had.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” He snapped, jaw clenched. She had an awful lot of nerve, just accusing him of being involved with drugs like that. Which, yeah, he had been a drug dealer once, but that was years ago and it had been to help his family– it was long behind him by now. The point was that none of this was her business, and to jump to conclusions like that…

“If you must know, it’s money from working two legitimate jobs that I’m mailing to my sisters. Is that illegal?” He finally replied, offering her a tight smile. He didn’t like that he had to tell her, but being pitied for coming from a poor family beat accusations of drug dealing. Knowing his luck, a rumour like that would make its way to his employers or the police, and then it would just become a big, unnecessary mess. Better to quash any possible misinformation right now.

“Is that good enough, or do I need to whip out family photos and bank statements to prove it?” He asked with a heavy eye roll, moving to shoulder past her.

          Annoyance welts itself into the farthest depths of a girl’s soul as she feels its bitter sensation nipping her skin raw. She’s certain that she’s right Stubborn as she is. And, when the male dares to question — who the hell she thinks she is — Shiah is more than willing ( and, ready)  to answer back. A glimpse of anger flashing before her eyes, only for it to be replaced with that of a stoic expression.  ❝ I’ll have you know who, exactly, I think I am — ❞ she begins. Ice laced within her tone as she has already categorized him within her own mind.  

         She’s about to continue.

                    To dig her grave even further than she already has.

       That is, until, she is silenced by the information that is sent in her direction,

         (Finally), his words are, at last, resonating within her. Making sense all of a sudden. But, it’s too late now. The damage is done, and it is seen clearly upon the woman’s countenance as her condemnatory expression falls into something soft. Full of regret. As soon as she listens to the fact of his struggle and his intent to help his sisters — it’s an awful feeling which courses throughout the female’s body. and, in that instance, Shiah knows what she’s done to him is awful.To accuse him of something like that when he was doing something so innocent.She practically wishes she could slap herself.  With her lips left slightly open, she is speechless as to how to continue from here. Shocked to find out about his good intention to help his family, she scrambles to find the right words to say. To muster up something that will fix all the wrong she’s done in the last few minutes. However, it might be too late.

       As he motions to shoulder’s past her, she processes his final words.

        Gods, how she’s messed up now.  ❝ Wait ! just.. Give me a second ? ❞ Shiah’s features are ridden with guilt as tries to make amends. Still, to demand him to give her this chance, she knows it is wrong. Nonetheless, she’s not sure how else to apologize.

       ❝ I-.. I know what I did…,  ❞  the girl tries to start off as she makes an effort to block his path, almost in a childish manner, hands stretched out in order to create some awful attempt at a barrier.  ❝ I was wrong .  And, what I did was a really shitty thing to do.  ❞ She feels worse, keeping him like this in hopes he will listen to her apology. Deep down, in her own heart, she knows it’s selfish of her. To ask for him to forgive her. Yet, she can’t bring it in herself to let him go without him knowing, she’s sorry.

         ❝ I was being a total asshole. ❞ she finally admits aloud, the corner of her lips pulling into a small frown.

        ❝ How about I make it up to you ? ❞

･ﾟ♡    𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

[mpshiah]

mpxmia:

Mia listens closely to the other’s answers, putting away some dresses and pulling out others. Though designing and creating gowns is definitely her favorite part of the job, she can’t deny the enjoyment she feels whenever she’s helping a customer. It’s almost like a small mystery of sorts where she has to find the perfect piece of clothing with a few hints and educated guesses.

It’s a relief that the girl doesn’t comment on Mia’s bluntness. A different customer might’ve, but this one seems sweet, the type that Mia can be comfortable with (and the type that reminds her a little of the girls she picked on back in the day).

“Alright, off the shoulder, floor length, flowy.“ There are now five dresses on the sofa and Mia holds them up one by one so the girl can examine them closely. She comments on every dress, not so much that it’ll feel as if she’s making the decision for her customer, but enough to help the girl get a better idea of the dresses.

“I think something with lace will suit you very well; it shouldn’t be too minimalistic but also not too loud.“ The dress Mia’s holding up at the moment has pearls sown onto it. “This, for example, is eye-catching without drawing too much attention away from you, the person.“ She puts the dress back down and picks up another one. This one has a sheer top with a flowery lace design that blends into a simple white skirt with a leg slit. “It’s elegant, but it has personality.”

          Shiah examines each dress the female presents her.

        Focus and concentration illuminating her visage as she looks closely at the details of every gown laid upon the sofa before them. Observing. She takes them in for what they are. All of them beautiful — thus far. Yet, still. There is something that seems to be lacking. Something that seems to be missing for the girl. And silently, she watches the employee work her magic. Getting closer and closer to her dream dress. When the woman of expertise begins advising on what she thinks will suit Shiah best, the officer simply smiles in agreement. More than thrilled to go along with whatever, the dress shop employee recommends. After all,  Shiah was lucky to have her here. This experience probably wouldn’t have been all too exciting if it weren’t for the other who was bringing worth a new perspective, ideas, and dresses, that Shiah honestly would have never thought about trying, without the female’s guidance.

       Bringing her hands together in a small clap, it’s almost like a lightbulb has gone off within that of her own mind when the other mentions lace. Her smile growing into a pleasant grin. However, it’s not until the other holds up the second gown that a small gasp escapes past petaled hues. Her eyes sparkling with awe and admiration as she nears closer to the gown. Limbs moving all their own as she’s taken away with the beauty of the dress within the woman’s hands.    ❝ I think I’m in love. . .,  ❞ she is quick to comment on the female’s suggestion.  Looking to the woman as her expression is painted with thankfulness and excitement.

         ❝ Elegant but has personality,  ❞ she mimics back in a small whisper —more so, talking to herself if anything. She gazes back to the beautiful dress.  ❝ Can I try it on ?  ❞ it feels like a stupid question but Shiah cannot contain her own eagerness as she looks back to the lady beside her.

         ❝ I think this might be the one... ❞

･ﾟ♡   𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓎𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈

[mpshiah]

mpxdaehyun:

It was the day Daehyun had been waiting for. He had gotten his first paycheque from both of his jobs within the last few days, and it was time to send some money off to his sisters. Jeehyun and Joohyun needed uniforms for high school, so the money couldn’t come soon enough. That morning he’d gone to the bank and withdrew ¾ of the money in his account, tucking it safely into an envelope. Maybe he should have sent a cheque, but he honestly did not want to waste any money buying cheques, and he knew that Soohyun was too busy to go to the bank to cash it, anyway.

And so, off to the post office he went, envelope clutched tightly in his hand. He felt so good about this, about the fact that he could help his sisters and go to school without financially burdening them. His older sisters had done so much to support him, it felt good to give back to at least one of them. He was walking with such purpose, he did not even notice the woman running down the sidewalk until they collided. He flinched, moving his hands to steady her and dropping the envelope in the process– not that he noticed right then, because he was too busy feeling bad about bumping into her. 

“I’m sorry, I should have watched where I was going…”

He blinked, brow furrowing at the look she was giving him. He looked down at the envelop spilling bills onto the sidewalk, and then he realized what she was thinking. He quickly dropped to pick it up, clutching the envelope to his chest as if it was the most important thing in the world. “I can explain…” He could see the suspicion on her face– the look. It was one he was familiar with, growing up a delinquent in the wrong neighbourhood. And it made him mad, made him put his back up and get defensive. Why should he have to explain what he was doing with money that he had earned fair and square?

“But it’s none of your business, is it?”

          With money spread across grey concrete, Shiah can’t help her mind from running through various possibilities as to why someone would be carrying so much cash. Ultimately, she can’t stop herself.

      And, as she often did, the woman assumes the worst.  Expects the worse from the stranger before her. Automatically jumping to the decision that the seemingly innocent incident at hand must be criminal. That there is no good reason he’d have so much money with him unless if it were for something of bad intent. With eyes squinted slightly, her arms are suddenly crossed against her chest, and she ignores much of what he’s saying. Her mind already made. She examines him. Taking notice of the strange envelope which he clutches close to his chest, her mind playing back to the images of him pick up the mess (in which she made), only seconds ago.

          Glancing to where the bills had once been, she then brings her attention back to the male before her. Set in her own beliefs, there’s a brief pause, as she lets him finish his statement before she intervenes with her own words.Obviously not paying attention to his declaration that it isn’t any of her business. In her own mind, she’s doing something just,

         ❝ That’s an awful lot of money you got there, ❞ Shiah presses with the same accusing look. An expression he doesn’t seem quite fond of, she judges from his own countenance. But, she’s grown to be accustomed to such as her short time being a cop, and the police academy provided her that much. Taking a step closer to the male, Shiah tilts her head slightly, trying to get a better look at the envelope in his hand.  ❝ So, what’s that for ? ❞ She gestures to the object the man holds almost as if his life depends on it. Questions him in a tone she’s been trained to use. Stern but not threatening.  

             ❝ Are you planning to mail it off ? that’s odd..❞  She finally makes it voiced, her observation of the preferred casing of his money. Arms still crossed firmly over her chest, as her face reads her every thought out loud. She doesn’t wait for him to respond, as she continues her interrogation.

         ❝ Or, is that just the way you guys are transporting drug money these days ? ❞

･ﾟ♡    𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈