jessicastrung
paris is burning
only fools rush in { au indie rp - sec. muse available }
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「私があなたに求めていることはたったひとつ」
「あなたには私のことを覚えていてほしいの。あなたさえ私のことを覚えていてくれれば、ほかのすべての人に忘れられたってかまわない」
村上春樹、海辺のカフカ
(via
just1d4y
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“It is difficult for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs.”
— Thomas Hardy, Far From The Madding Crowd
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jessica.syj: ⛅️⛅️⛅️
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I DON’T LIKE MONDAYS.
new album 「 TOKYO 」
M04 “ SING ” mv SHOOTING
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JESSICA, CéCi China
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clairdclunc:
Without saying one word, Minho pursed his lips as he observed Jessica’s dramatics. The way she threw the magazine behind her just to cross her arms over her chest made it almost a little funny. Yet, Minho was smart enough not to fuel her fire, thus he kept a straight face while looking at her in silence. He knew exactly that Jessica had her reasons to come here dressed like that.
And in fact, her first few sentences explained a lot. A miserable date. Minho sighed and moved over to sit next to her on the couch. What was the saying again? All men were trash? Certainly, from what she told him right now this was true. Minho leaned his arm against the backrest of the couch before resting his head against his hand. A soft frown adorned his features.
❝ Okay, wait. How long have you seen this guy? And what happened exactly? He had pictures of another woman on his phone? Like just pictures or pictures of them together? ❞ Minho snorted audibly. ❝ And he told you he has no idea how the pictures ended on his phone? Well, that was definitely a lame excuse. Do you want me to break his nose? ❞
she falls back onto the sofa in a flourish of attitude as minho joins her once more. staring at the ceiling, she can’t help the deeply unhappy expression that tugs the corners of her red lips down. “he said----” she begins, pausing to draw in a deep breath before sitting back up again, gathering her legs up to sit cross-legged at her friend’s side.
“listen to this garbage.--- we’ve been seeing each other for like..... three weeks now?” her head tilts as she pauses to count. “we’ve been having dinner maybe three nights out of each week and he’s been a good texter! do you know how hard that is to find these days?!”
hands are thrown up in an expression of frustration. playing the dramatics was the only way she’d be able to get through it. the little voice in the back of her head was still telling her to rush home, curl up with ice-cream and swear off men forever. maybe she should get a cat? “anyway---- he goes to the bathroom and his phone starts ringing, and y’know the way your screen lights up when a call comes through? it was just an unregistered number, no name, but when the call dropped, i saw his home screen. it’s a picture of some girl at a cafe, like sitting across from him ---- when he gets back, i ask who she is, and he just..... explodes.”
she frowns, looking briefly to her hands before laying them on her lap; there’s a sting of tears in her eyes and her cheeks feel hot. “i really thought maybe things were going well his time.”
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{ incoming message for @heavenxcloud---- proceed to dropbox for further instructions }
s h i o n
behind the steering wheel of a sleek black merc, shion drags a damp cloth over his face and sighs deeply into the filthy fabric. when he looks back into it, it’s speckled with fine drops of bright red blood. there’d been an oversight, a rat in the walls where he hadn’t expected one to be and unfortunately, it needed to be persuaded not to talk. even now his knuckles throbbed. flexing his hand once to check for permanent injuries, shion pulls down the overhead visor and checks his reflection. dark stubble hugged his jawline and thick black hair was pushed back from his face - there remained a stoic dullness to his expression, he never spoke much, preferred to remain a man of few words out of convenience more than anything. imposing, hardened, broad, tall and scary. perhaps that was for the best.
he s i g h s once more and shuts the visor, tucking the stained rag back into the glovebox compartment before pulling the keys from the ignition. he needed something to keep him awake against the exhaustion that now crept into every muscle. a coffee. that’s what he needed.
the gangster climbs out from his parked car, straightening the black blazer he wore over an entire black ensemble. tailored suit and shiny black shoes set him apart from most and made a wide berth wherever he dared to tread. the city was winding down into its late evening drawl and only a few people milled around on the street corners, leaving boutiques that were bowing graciously to their last customers of the day. shion wiped the back of his hand across his nose once more, a last double-check in case some easily spooked housewife made a scene. he reached the door into his frequented perch, a cafe he often stopped by to and from work; stepping in with a purpose, he pauses there soon after - the baristas were busy cleaning jugs and machines.
shit----- i must be too late---------------
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blancandeclare_official: Come on over? 💝
⠀
#BlancAndEclare
#FW21
#HotelDeBlancAndEclare
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clairdclunc:
Jessica was lucky that Minho always keeps his cockatoo Maxwell in his cage when he wasn’t around. The bird was usually not too keen on having visitors around without Minho being there. And even now the white cockatoo protested every now and then against the loudness of the music.
Blissfully unaware, Minho unlocked the door after his working day. Usually, he would have a quick dinner after his work shift and get ready to patrol during the night at the usual spots. Creatures of the night never sleep and so Minho has to make his presence known to keep everything safe and sound.
Yet, everything was different when he came home, greeted by loud music. Minho furrowed his brows, muscles tensing. Not making a move, he looked around until he spotted a pair of heels. Jessica? She was the only woman with keys to his home. Minho slipped out of his shoes and walked into the living room. The woman he spotted looked like she was ready for a party night.
❝ Jess? ❞ His cockatoo protesting loudly again. ❝ Max, it’s all good, Daddy is home. ❞ He persuaded with a fond voice before turning back to the woman. ❝ Jess what’s wrong? You look like something happened. ❞
she lowers the magazine she had idly been flicking through, its glossy pages closing smoothly together as jess sits up a little more. legs are withdrawn and put back to the floor beneath her, a dramatic sigh deflating her shoulders as she rose to her short height.
“minho, it’s just awful.” she muses on a forlorn tone; tossing the magazine behind her as arms folded over a lithe frame, as if to cradle herself against some unknown chill in the air. she turns her face away for a brief second before looking back to him.
“i swear that i’m done with dating. i’ve had enough.”
the dramatics were amusing sure, but it was her best chance of recovering from the actual sting of hurt that dwelled deep down inside. she couldn’t very well go moping about because another promising guy let her down and her dreams of finding that special someone soon disipated into thin air. jess was a terrible romantic and things like fate were very real in her mind’s eye; although childish, she felt her heart crack a little more each and every time things didn’t work out. “i mean -- he insisted he had no idea how her pictures ended up on his phone!”
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what form of gentle affection are you?
(jess)
'I miss you' texts
long nights full of yearning and fantasies... intimate secrets you'd be embarrassed to say out loud... passionately reuniting once again... you want a love that is desperate and passionate, you want someone that will make you feel like you’re living a romance novel. you want to feel the fire burning in your chest when you see them. you want every touch to feel like fireworks, and to discover something new about them every day. while this addicting fire can be fun to chase, try not to drop every lover once the flame seems to have died down. sometimes the most intense burn comes from the fire you continue to kindle, and it is worth it to settle in front of a hearth.
tagged by: @fromspellsandsage
tagging: @mcneyhoney
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which beautiful concept are you?
(jess)
daylight streaming through the windows, golden as a crown you are a reminder of the hope that reveals itself in glimpses, in snippets of beauty amongst the ordinary. the sunlight illuminates but does not overwhelm or overpower, it is warm and kind and gentle.
tagged by: @heavenxcloud
tagging: @mcneyhoney
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{ incoming message for @oneqonec ---- proceed to dropbox for further instructions }
s h i o n
a thin trail of cigarette smoke rose and dissipated into the humid night air, the burning tobacco glowed a warm orange as it hung from the corner of shion’s mouth; korea had a different feel, he didn’t hate it, but the streets still held something of an uneasy feeling for him. the sleek black car behind him held his weight as he scoped out the surroundings - waiting for a drop was never too exciting but tonight he felt listless, wanting nothing more than to piss off to some backend bar, swig a whiskey and watch girls croon on stage. he scratched at stubble on his chin with knuckles marred by fading black ink.
it was then his attention was drawn to a hurried figure of women who seemed to be dipping her head in the hopes of remaining unapproached; this wasn’t exactly the glitzy streets of gangnam. he watches her absently, eyes tracing the path she made to cross the street before he noticed something fall from the slouching opening to her bag. he ponders on it a moment -- why did he care if she dropped something? he didn’t but---- she seemed to just be in the wrong part of town. shame if some drughead found some cash and OD’d in some alleyway.
without much knowing the reason why, he pushes from his perch and hurries his long stride; swiping the dropped item with long fingers before catching up to her hurried form.
“scuze’ me --- “ he calls; about to reach out and put a hand on her shoulder. “y’dropped somethin’ back there.”
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; ————— > starter for @clairdclunc { been a long night and the
mirror is telling me to go home ------ ;; }
she’s drunk on red wine, head in a heady cloud of sweetened alcohol and fine food. another disastrously bad date but at least it wasn’t all horrors. she got crème brulee for dessert.
perched in one of minho’s living room chairs, her foot is gently swaying to the music blasting from his stereo (how many times had he scolded her for breaking into his apartment like this? ---- his fault for telling her where the spare key was.... ), she’s listening to the eagles, her favourite comfort music when she feels like another thing has turned sour in her personal life. her strappy heels were discarded at the door and lacquered toes were dancing as she hummed the tune. eyes closed and reclined quite comfortably, she’s waiting for the head of the house to come home. maybe he’ll be kind enough to let her order chicken.
dark curls are spilling onto the cushion behind her head, sparkling cocktail dress, gold ear rings and all. she should be out in a night club but instead, she’s lamenting wasted time and loneliness. but before she can dive into that bag of depression, she hears the front door rattling.
ah---- he’s home.
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gentle reminder that i have a secondary muse available to plot with
you can find his about here ±±
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got nuthin to write so like for a starter maybe? ( jess or shion available )
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