avoirlemalduquelquun-blog

[avoirlemalduquelquun-blog]

xtaem‌:

Kibum agrees to the deal easily, and it brings a grin to Taemin’s face. One that fades, gradually, as Kibum gives him a few choice pieces of fashion advice. Too real. He’s got to learn to expect blunt honesty with this one, it’s becoming obvious. The last tip – be confident – has a laugh bubbling up in him at the irony. He never would have thought that after overcoming this very challenge as a teen, he’d be facing it again, ten years later. And he must really be drunk, because he’s got a feeling that sober-him wouldn’t find this nearly as amusing.

“Yeah, but it’s been a few years…” he murmurs in response to the question, and he’s pulling his phone out of his pocket as he follows Kibum toward his apartment, looking first in his gallery to see if he’s got any old selcas saved, but of course he doesn’t. It’s with only a little reluctance that he opens the web browser instead, typing a quick search. After all, it’s not often that he gets to consult with a stylist these days (in other words, never, not since he left the industry) and certainly not for free. He’s still clicking through and closing the results as Kibum lets them in, looking for one that doesn’t have a) a microphone, stage lighting, and heavy makeup, or b) an entourage and a backdrop of camera-clicking fans. The guy probably isn’t paying too close attention, but he still leans away from him a little bit, on the off chance that he’d see all Taemin had to do to bring up thousands of pictures of himself was to type in “taemin blond”.

His search is cut short – abruptly, ecstatically – when a small dog comes running toward him, tail wagging. His phone is forgotten on the floor next to him as he settles down, reaching out his arms and welcoming his new friend into his lap. “Hi, little cutie!” Scratching behind the pup’s ears, he looks to Kibum again. “What’s their name?”

Kibum pushes the door closed behind them so that his precious child doesn’t end up in someone else’s apartment and he smiles as Taemin lights up. Who doesn’t like dogs?

As she starts sniffing, he crouches down to take a gander at the phone on the floor. Belatedly, he notes that he should probably text one of the friends he went to the club with to let them know he’s home safe and see if they’re okay, too.

“Dior! She’s a high-class bitch.” He taps gently on the other man’s phone, just to keep it from going dark, and accidentally picks an image. Is this a search? Who has to google themselves? Who can google themselves? It resizes so that he can see it better, and he nods (mostly to himself) before moving to stand back up.

He’s gonna have to do some digging later. If he’s accidentally making friends in high places, he’d like to know about it.

“Love the blond! You should do it again.” Taemin is the kind of guy that would stand out easily if only he put himself out there. He already kind of does - Kibum wouldn’t have stopped for just anyone - but he could do so much more. Just thinking about all of the possibilities has him eager to find some fabric and start working. His hands wouldn’t be able to keep up right now, though.

He pulls out his own phone, shoots off a quick text to Jihye (she was there, right?), and turns on the hall light. Now that he can really see, he starts poking through his closet for a spare blanket. An exhaustion he’d not known he was carrying weighs heavy in his bones. What time is it?

“Hope you don’t mind the couch! I’d say you could sleep with me but I’m more of a third date kind of guy.” A chuckle, and he manages to free a comforter and a pillow from the depths of the linen pit. “And don’t let her bully you into sharing, because you’ll be on the floor before you know it.”

#[ LECRITURE ] #xtaem #[[ some day soon! ]]

[avoirlemalduquelquun-blog]

luxinexitium‌:

he’s never been told flat-out that, no, he can’t pet a stranger’s dog, but it’s early and the stranger looks tired. but–if anything could help him feel better, it would be the unconditional love from a canine friend. so when the dog’s owner consents, kyungsoo can’t help but smile like a child who’s been told he can stay up ‘til ten-thirty. as the fluffy creature approaches him, he crouches down with an outstretched hand for the dog to sniff, keeping it low so as not to spook her. true to her owner’s words, she’s just as friendly as she is pretty. though he had no reason to do so earlier, he wouldn’t be worried about this dog getting enough attention, judging by her immaculate coat and sociable nature.

“thank you,” he says softly, gaze fixed on the dog as he scratches behind her ears with both hands. after all his encounters with strays across the city, he’s almost forgotten what a well-kempt dog feels like. there’s no debris caught in her fur or scrapes in her paws. she isn’t sporting a chip in her ear or overgrown teeth. part of him wants to gather the dog into his arms and hug her for the rest of the morning, but that probably wouldn’t sit well with her owner. so he settles for petting her head and gently scratching her chin, legs a little numb from being crouched for so long, but it’s well worth the trouble. (and it’s no trouble at all.) 

like the inching hands of a clock, the sun continues to rise over the city, casting the streets in broad strokes of marigold. if he didn’t already find it a little magical, he’s entirely convinced of the wonders of dawn when the light falls over the dog at just the right angle. she’s almost other-worldly like this, radiant with a halo of sunshine. it isn’t until the creature noses at his cheek does kyungsoo realise he’s started crying, and soon after comes the first sniffle. he must be more tired than he thought, but he still tries to keep face by asking, “w.. what’s her name?”

Dior is having the time of her life. If she could smile, she’d probably be grinning. He’s actually kind of glad that she can’t, because the thought is kind of horrifying. Instead, her tail wags excitedly, and she continues to sniff and yip quietly as she’s attended to by the stranger. She even licks his hand.

If he hadn’t trained her not to, she’d probably be jumping on him, too.

Kibum laughs. Why is it so wholesome to watch people play with dogs? He has no idea. It’s just something about the purity of the interaction that gets him every time. Adorable.

And then she seems a little worried. She does, in fact, stand with her front paws resting on the guy’s knee. Only, it’s to sniff his face, not to get more pets. It’s as he looks closer that he realizes the man is crying. Not a lot, no sobs or snot - yet. Just some silent tears and quiet sniffles.

This is… a little weird. But he’s not heartless.

“Dior, like the company,” he says, “...Are you okay? Do you need a tissue?”

He slips the end of the leash onto his wrist and starts patting down his pockets. In his jacket, he finds the small travel package he keeps on him for emergencies and offers it to the stranger.

“Not to be weird or anything, I mean. Sorry.”

#[ LECRITURE ] #luxinexitium #[[ stranger: crying #kibum: immediate panic lmao ]]

[avoirlemalduquelquun-blog]

#[ MODE ]

[avoirlemalduquelquun-blog]

xtaem‌:

“Sit in on a class…?” Taemin repeats, amused disbelief in his voice. “You know I usually charge for those, right?” Although – those who pay to attend them usually participate. If he doesn’t plan on dancing, just wants to watch, does it even count? “Whatever. Take me to lunch or something, and we’ll call it even.”

And before Kibum properly answers his question, of course he has to point that out. Taemin grumbles his objection. “I wasn’t in the trash. I was just… by the trash.” As defenses go, it’s kind of weak. Regardless, he looks like trash tonight, and at least he knows it. Kibum’s dig at his choice of pants has an offended look crossing his features, but only briefly. “These are designer knockoff…” he mumbles, though he knows full well that doesn’t mean they look good. Maybe he can’t quite pull off ugly-on-purpose, like he has the sneaking suspicion that Kibum can. Something he shares with another person in Taemin’s life, someone who looks an awful lot like this guy…

He isn’t given long to ponder that. Kibum’s getting out his key (ha) and letting them into the building. And along with a few tidbits of fashion advice, he’s throwing out a compliment. Nice skin isn’t something that Taemin’s heard a whole lot (it’s kind of one of his insecurities, really, the scars that are obvious in certain light) so it brings a shy little smile to his lips. “Yeah, I’m gonna get it cut soon.” There’s something else he’s been considering, too, and seeing as how this guy seems to be some kind of expert, he might as well get his opinion. He tosses it out just as the elevator doors are opening to Kibum’s floor. “Kinda wanna go blond again, honestly. But it’s been a while. What d'ya think, what can I pull off? Light, dark? Platinum… dirty?”

Lunch? That’s fair enough. It’ll probably be less than it would cost to take a class - not that he’s looking to. He likes dancing well enough - his just usually takes place in a club or at home in his underwear. He’s not so sure he wants to get up in front of other people and perform.

His life is already quite the performance.

“Done.”

His eyes narrow immediately at the quiet, indignant muttering of “”knockoff.” Yes, they look like designer pants. But they haven’t seen a runway in a little over a year. And they’re hideous. If Taemin is going to wear ugly clothes, he’s gonna have to start wearing them well. Or else just get rid of them.

“One of the secrets to fashion like this,” He gestures to the offending article adorning his new friend’s long legs. “Is that even if it looks gross, at least you can say you paid for the name. People respect that. The other secret is to accessorize well and be confident. Confidence in yourself will get you a lot of places.”

Hell, if Taemin had decided to actually go in and defend his choices, Kibum would probably have reconsidered his stance. Now, he probably won’t let it go until he sees them on fire in a dumpster somewhere.

He thumbs the button for floor ten and then it’s a waiting game. This elevator moves pretty quickly, though, so it’s not very long. The doors pull open, the other man mentions a color change, and he lights up.

“I like it! But I want to see pictures first. You said you’ve done it before?”

The halls here are pretty well lit, even at night, so it’s short work finding his own door. He punches in the pin and the handle gives way, leading them into his significantly darker apartment. From the bedroom, there’s a clattering of clawed feet against the hardwood and a bark, before Dior comes barreling into the entryway.

“Baby! Say hi to Taemin.”

#[ LECRITURE ] #xtaem

[avoirlemalduquelquun-blog]

Update!

Hey, this is Kibum’s typist. Just wanted to let you know that I haven’t forgotten about this account or anything. I’ve been busy with work and other accounts and have had a hard time finding inspiration for this beautiful boy. Plus I’m away from home right now on a trip, so things have been a lil hectic.

But I have most of the replies I owe done! Just need to find an actual computer so that formatting can happen before posting. Don’t give up on me!

I’ll see you soon.

-A

#[ de l'écrivain ] #[[ also if youre interested in one or two of my other accs #and enjoy supernatural themes hmu pls ]]

[avoirlemalduquelquun-blog]

reblog if you rp with female muses and think it is just as fun to rp with them as rping with male muses !!!

#[ DE L'ECRIVAIN ]

[avoirlemalduquelquun-blog]

luxinexitium:

he’s out the door by four-thirty, hair askew from persistent restlessness and shoes hastily shoved onto his feet. a passing breeze cools flushed cheeks, dancing across a constellation of freckles, and he breathes a shaky sigh in exchange. anxious hands card through unruly hair, only worsening the mess, but the action is familiar–comforting. with no particular destination in mind, he follows the partitions in the pavement and steps over each one like rungs on a ladder. his thoughts are loud but his pulse resonates deeper, and it takes every ounce of energy to focus on the rhythm of his footsteps. one-two, one-two. right-left, right-left.

it works, eventually. by the end of the hour he takes his first proper breath, lungs singing with relief as they hoard the oxygen they’d been begging for since before nightfall. trusting his gaze to wander elsewhere, he glances at the sky and finds it soaked in melding strokes of lavender and lilac, a halo of marigold to the east. aside from the occasional jogging enthusiast, he’s alone on these quiet streets with the bubbling bustle of city life several blocks away. the perks of pseudo-suburbia.

half an hour later, the next best opportunity for distraction appears at the other end of the street, shining brightly in the first rays of morning. he would wonder for a moment if he was still dreaming, but he doesn’t let his mind wander too far as he shyly approaches the pair. although his fingers have already begun fidgeting with the zip of his jacket, he tries in earnest to keep his voice steady when he asks, “can i pet your dog?”

It is far, far too early.

Kim Kibum doesn’t get up at this hour. He doesn’t leave the house without his morning cup of coffee (or three) and he doesn’t traverse the neighborhood before the sun has graced all the little nooks and crannies of it with light.

Yet, here he is. Why? Because of a dog. Well, not just a dog. Dior is his best friend. She’s his partner in crime, his muse, his confidant. All of these things, however, don’t detract from the fact that Dior is still a canine, and needs to be walked at inconvenient times.

It’s the least he could do for all that she does for him.

When they venture out onto the city streets, the dim light of dawn is just barely fighting to fill the sky and overtake the night. When they reach the halfway point of their walk - and consequently the furthest point from the apartment - it’s already beginning to look like mid-morning, despite still being far earlier.

They come to a stop at a familiar street corner and Dior begins to sniff around for something. Kibum takes the opportunity to rest a little bit; he pulls out his phone and starts checking apps.

“Can I pet your dog?”

He almost jumps out of his skin. 

His eyes land on a man with short, dark hair and large, lovely eyes. His heart needs a second to recover. “Oh, uh, yes! Sure.”

He steps a little to the side to give the guy room and pockets his phone again. 

This has happened before, but only a couple of times. He’s always surprised, but it gives way to delight at the sight of a stranger fawning over his dog.

“She loves people.”

As if on cue, she turns her head and takes notice of the new presence. Immediately, she trots over and starts sniffing again. He grins.

#[ LECRITURE ] #luxinexitium #[[ SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG #work has been a lot #also hey i love your writing! *finger guns* ]]

[avoirlemalduquelquun-blog]

xtaem:

The laugh that Kibum lets out goes a long way in helping to dispel the aura that he clearly doesn’t see himself. And he’s launching into a faked backstory of exactly the type that Taemin was tempted to give moments earlier, and though he very nearly rolls his eyes, he can’t stop the amused smile creeping across his face.

Kibum finally gives him a serious answer, and it’s one he can live with. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Soon they’ve left the vicinity of those few blocks packed with bars and nightclubs, and the streets start to resemble something like the normal nighttime desertion. With the thinning of the crowds, Taemin finds it a little easier to breathe.

“Stylist, huh?” He doesn’t mean them to, but his eyes flicker downward self-consciously, driven by the sudden awareness of his carelessly-chosen outfit for the evening. Haven’t had one of those for a while, he almost says, but that’s sharing a bit more than he’d like to at this point in time. If Kibum doesn’t know who he is yet, he’s not about to spoil it.

And the next question has him looking Kibum’s way, pleasantly surprised to be asked details about one of the things he cares about most– but then he’s laughing, loud and inelegant. “Ah, you caught me. Sucks for you, though– I left my glittery thong at home.” Hands in pockets, a few more steps and a coy smile, and he’s answering for real. “Contemporary, mostly. Though I’m starting to branch out more into other styles. I work at this studio now and every instructor’s got a different background. It’s kinda awesome.”

When they reach the end of the block, they have to wait to cross; it’s late enough and the traffic light enough that they could probably get away with jaywalking, but he doesn’t bother to risk it. As they wait for the signal, it occurs to him that it’s now his turn. He should ask where Kibum was born or how many siblings he has, or something, but he can’t help the words that leave his mouth. “So. Say I was one of your clients. What would you do with me? ‘Cause you did say I look like a mess before.”

Kibum laughs again. They must have a similar sense of humor.

He doesn’t know too much about the intricacies of dance and all of it’s different styles, but he does have a rather good idea of what contemporary looks like. It seems fitting. And if Taemin teaches, he must be pretty good. That’s kind of impressive.

“I’d love to see what you’ve got. Maybe sit in on a class or something.”

He’s decided that it wouldn’t be terrible if this were more than a one-time thing. Perhaps he’ll nobly escort this guy to safety again some time.

His companion keeps it light, doesn’t probe too deeply. But the question is still interesting. He grins.

“You were half-passed out in the trash, to be fair.”

They’re getting pretty close to their destination. When he notices some familiar windows, he starts fishing for his keys.

“For starters, I’d say switch to a black thong.” He can’t keep a straight face, but he does give Taemin another quick look over. “...In general, probably get rid of those pants, get you some nice accessories. It really depends on where you’re going and what you’re going for.”

He finds his key as they reach the front door of his building, and he lets his guest in first. Then, they’re headed for the elevator.

“You have nice skin so not too much makeup, but you need a haircut.”

#[ LECRITURE ] #xtaem #[[ this feels rushed im sorryyyyy ]]

[avoirlemalduquelquun-blog]

#[ MUSIQUE ]

[avoirlemalduquelquun-blog]

painterlyjongin:

“Ah gallery hopping then. One of my favorite things to do.” Jongin cast a glance around the room, looking for Kibum’s friends. When he found none he frowned slightly; gallery tours were way more fun when you had company. 

“You’re by yourself tonight?” he clarified and looked around again. The crowd was getting bigger and Jongin sighed internally. He wanted to leave. An idea suddenly struck him and he looked over at Kibum, excited.

“How about you and I go to this little gallery I know of. Its off the beaten path so only other artists know where it exists pretty much.”

Jongin hoped the other man said yes as he really wanted an excuse to get out before more people talked to him, having exhausted his mental capacity for big crowd socialization for the day.

Of course. What kind of artist wouldn’t try to inundate themselves with the work of their peers? It increases the drive to do quality work. You just have to be open to change and critique. That’s the part that a lot of people have trouble with. He tries not to be one of them.

“Yeah.” He answers without thinking. And he kicks himself for it. This guy could be one of a million kinds of unsavory types. You can never be too careful.

As he’s going over this in his head, he’s invited to another gallery. And this man’s - Jongin’s - eyes are so bright, so hopeful… Maybe he’s just being paranoid.

“Sure!” Now he sounds excited. He doesn’t mind a crowd, but any opportunity to get to know someone and appreciate the beauty of of creation is one he’s going to take. Especially if it means hanging out with a creator. “Already sounds like the place to be.”

He smiles.

“Does it have a name?”

#[ LECRITURE ] #painterlyjongin

[avoirlemalduquelquun-blog]

No proofreading we die like men

#[ DE L'ÉCRIVAIN ]

[avoirlemalduquelquun-blog]

xtaem:

Taemin breathes out a snort of laughter as they start walking. Tell me about yourself. As a setup, it almost begs for some elaborate story, some barely-believable fiction. It all started when I ran away to join the circus…

Mischievous smile still on his face, he holds his tongue and thinks it over. He’s not looking at Kibum – gaze fixed off into the far distance down the sidewalk they’re treading – and he doesn’t turn his way as he decides to be serious and give him the truth.

“I’m a dancer.”

Or a portion of it, anyway. Let Kibum interpret that how he wishes. Ballet, ballroom, exotic – the options are endless. He’s almost hoping Kibum’s imagination is as rampant as his own.

“You gonna tell me anything about yourself, or just me? I mean, I understand if you don’t want to compromise this whole… mysterious and intimidating thing you got goin’ on.”

A dancer, huh? There are a lot of different types of those. His mind wanders immediately to perhaps the most family unfriendly kind, and for a moment, it does sort of seem plausible. The club they’d met outside of hadn’t been that kind, but he’d seen quite a few things in the middle of the dance floor.

“Oh?”

He’s about to ask for clarification when hears “mysterious and intimidating.” And he snorts out a short laugh that leaves him a little embarrassed but mostly amused. Mysterious isn’t exactly something his friends would describe him as.

“I’m actually a secret agent, sent here to extract information from you.” He’s matter of fact, nods once, and then he devolves back into a chuckle. How do you make conversation again?

“Well, uh, I guess we could go back and forth? That seems fair.”

As they keep heading away from the more crowded streets, the passers-by become more sporadic. They don’t have to worry so much about sidewalk space and he’s able to spread out a little more. It’s pretty nice.

“Stylist - that’s what I do. Mostly for photo shoots, but sometimes video and runway.” He doesn’t often talk about his career. The details aren’t very interesting, so he doesn’t think to mention them.

“So! Dancer… what kind?” He looks up at a couple of the street lights as they pass underneath. “Ballet? Hip hop?” He pauses, considers, and decides to proceed down the path he’s chosen. “...Exotic?”

#[ LECRITURE ] #xtaem

[avoirlemalduquelquun-blog]

Which Tarot Card Are You?

Tagged by: @xtaem Tagging: whomsoever reads this and hasn't done it yet.

You got: The Lovers

You’re someone who’s very in touch with your emotions and beliefs. People can’t help but notice how authentic you are — they find comfort in the fact that what they see is what they get and trust you easily. You might be a bit of an oversharer at times, but you have an open heart and are always happy to share it with others.

#[ JEU ] #[[ SORRY I HAVENT BEEN AROUND IVE BEEN BUSY #Gonna get to replies real soon thanks for understanding ]]

[avoirlemalduquelquun-blog]

xtaem:

As Kibum peers at his phone, attempting to make sense of the map, Taemin does the same. He arrives at the conclusion that Kibum does, and at about the same time. This is entirely too complicated for the two of them in their current state.

He’s on the verge of giving up entirely, of finding a cozy dumpster to curl up behind and sleep it off til morning, when Kibum offers a much better solution: his place. Taemin raises an eyebrow at the suggestion, mock-scandalized, but there’s no clever retort on his tongue. Only a deeply exhausted acceptance.

He sighs and looks off down the street. “Yeah, honestly, I don’t think we’d make it.”

Fifteen minutes of walking does still sound kind of far, but at least it’s simpler than catching multiple trains and taking the risk of fucking it up at any step of the journey. All he has to do is follow his new friend.

“You sure you don’t mind?”

After a half-beat where he’s not quite sure what’s happening (Is he upset? No, not quite.), his offer is accepted. It’s just that easy, kids.

His shoulders slump, half out of relief, half from the exhaustion of the evening so far. Being nice is only so rewarding before it gets kind of annoying. And Taemin is absolutely right. He probably would’ve given up about halfway there, if not maybe just a little further.

“Not at all.”

He has to bite his tongue to keep down a mention of poor, unfortunate souls. But his legs take the initiative in the meantime. No reason to keep standing around. The draw of his bed is too strong to ignore.

“Let’s go. You can tell me about yourself on the way or something so it’s not awkward.”

#[ LECRITURE ] #xtaem #[[ this will get longer soon!! lmao ]]

[avoirlemalduquelquun-blog]

xtaem:

“South. Okay.” It’s a little reassuring, knowing he’s at least kind of on the right track. It can’t be too absurdly far from here to his place. He tries to work it out in his head, but ends up shaking it slowly when he can’t think straight and the dots remain unconnected. He looks over at Kibum hazily at the question. “Seocho…”

It’s only now that he realizes there’s a fix for this. He gives a snort of laughter as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, only failing twice to unlock it before he gets it right. It’s kind of hard to focus on the screen, and he has to stop walking to do it. Open the map. Type in his address, one painfully slow character at a time. Watch it zoom out, and groan as he sees the inconveniently long line connecting it to his current location.

“Fuck walking that far, but there’s a subway station…” He trails off, dragging the map first one way and then the other, looking for the closest icon indicating a stop. He finally finds one, but as he’s not sure which way is north, he’s equally unsure which way they’re supposed to be walking. “…Somewhere around here.”

Seocho… That’s more than a little far, especially on foot. It might’ve been hard for him to get here even when he was sober. Kibum only lives a few blocks away, and even he usually prefers to drive.

He steps up to look over Taemin’s shoulder at the map and discovers that the usual blue line changes colors a couple of times, meaning they’d have to transfer at at least one stop. He’s not sure that either of them are mentally prepared enough for this kind of journey. He makes a face somewhere between “yikes” and “gross” that he doesn’t know what to call.

Then it comes to him. He only lives a few blocks away.

“Do you wanna just crash at my place?” Maybe it’s a little weird for him to offer a stranger his couch. He doesn’t really mind. “My apartment is only, like, fifteen minutes uh… that way.”

He motions to the right after scanning a few street signs.

“You know, if you won’t want to go that far.”

#[ LECRITURE ] #xtaem

[avoirlemalduquelquun-blog]

                                                             Kim Kibum, 26.                                                            Let me dress you.

#krp ad #krp lit #krp follow #krp indie #[[ DUNNO what to tag this as so here we go #he needs friends pls send help ]]

[avoirlemalduquelquun-blog]

You sit there in your heartache Waiting on some beautiful boy to  To save you from your old ways

#[ musique ]