Bc I’m Weak For These Things. Snagged The Link From @vagasbonds​, Make Ur Own Here.

grimesucker·.

❝I don’t think you’re as apathetic as you think you are.❞ // @kienokoru·

                                                           just SCREAMS when fifteen tries to bring it up—

it's missing shiro hours, boys 😔

new theme, just bc i can.

📃!!

Send a ‘📃’ for a short drabble involving our muses (Closed) || @kienokoru​

Shiro adapts to alien-care

In the briefest of instances, Shiro became aware of the void of sleep. He wanted to succumb to unconsciousness again (A secondary part of him marvels at the fact that he’s waking up at his own leisure, as opposed to being shaken or jolted awake by orderlies or nightmares), but in his half-asleep state, Shiro felt like something was up. Not wrong, just off—like he forgot something or slept on his leg weird.

As he faded further from dreams, and drifted closer to consciousness, Shiro understood what was the off feeling was about—his arm was wet.

One groggy eye at a time, he peels them open to the dingy motel room turned home-base. His sensations realign themselves with reality, and Shiro realizes that his prosthetic arm is the drenched one. The reason why is simple: Vanx.

Even as Shiro returned to the land of the living, she continued to gnaw on his arm—smearing her slobber all over the place.

It’s pretty gross. In a cute kind of way? No, no—Shiro prefers his limbs not-slobbered-on, even if his prosthetic arm could be power-washed. He half-mumbles in a groggy voice, “Come on, Vanx,” and jiggles his arm to a great clinking of teeth.

Vanx looks up—with her jaws still clamped down on his arm—and stares with big guilty eyes that scream, “I didn’t think you’d catch me red-handed.“

Vanx finally drops his arm and scooches some away. Grunting, Shiro stretches out his back. As sketchy as the mattress looks (and smells), it would’ve been better for him than leaning on headboard. Then again, a little soreness was the least of his worries.

Having popped as many cricks down his spine as he could, Shiro takes stock of his prosthetic arm; at least, he does after smearing it across the sheets, just to get the first layer of slobber off it. As he assesses for damage, Vanx pipes up with a more nervous-sounding yelp, “I swear I did not break any parts!”

Shiro realizes he’s been wearing a more so disgusted look. He is pretty grossed out, but he doesn’t want Vanx to think she’s in trouble. He’s not angry, or even really frustrated, so much as he’s just struggling. He’s never handled kids that teethed, much less kids that teethed like Vanx.

He’s seen her try to eat through walls.

Putting on a warm smile, his voice turns gentle as he tries to reassure Vanx. “I’m sure you didn’t, but we still need to be careful. I need this to get around and fight, too.” He’s been flexing his fingers and everything seems to be in order—no damage, and from the look of things, very few scuff marks. “You don’t want to leave me without an arm, right?”

“Oh.” Vanx blinks and her voice drops to low tone, something that suggests she better understands the gravity of the issue. “I am sorry.”

Shiro let out a small sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“Yes, I am sure you would be very sad if you could not do any more arm wrestling.”

Shiro blinks at that, feeling a twinge of offense spring up in his gut. “That’s not– I don’t–” He sputters for a moment as he collects his thoughts. “I was arm wrestling long before I got this arm, ”

Vanx makes a face of scrutiny as she looks between either of Shiro’s arms. “But.. your flesh arm is so weak and edible.”

“Well, yes, but arm wrestling isn’t just about strength, you also have to have the proper technique, and–” Shiro stops himself before he goes too deep into that rabbit hole. He ignores the more disturbing half of Vanx’s comment, and tries to not to regret showing her how to arm wrestle.

It helped past the time, and it was fun game they enjoyed.

“Look, it’s not just about me being able to arm wrestle or not. This arm is.. apart of me.” He said the last part hesitantly, like he didn’t really want to admit it. For a moment, his eyebrows furrow together, but his expression evens-out again. “If you need to gnaw on something, then we can get you something like, uh.. chew toy?”

He cringed inwardly at that word choice. It felt a little dehumanizing, offering a little kid dog toys. Vanx, on the other hand, perked up at that. She sounded excited as can be as she practically squealed, “Really?”

Shiro reminds himself, once again, that alien kids usually like alien toys, and those aren’t always like human toys.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll get you the next one we come across.” Shiro laughed at the way Vanx fist-pumped to herself.  He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and as he stood up, he rolls both his shoulder to even more cricks and pops. “But, how about we have another rematch before we start off the day?”

Vanx beamed at the idea and scurried off the bed herself. With just a grunt, she   was already hefting the nightstand from the other side of the bed to the middle of the room (While she lacked any kind of technique, the kid had more than enough brute strength). She always thought she’d beat Shiro at arm wrestling, and Shiro would be lying if he said a small part of himself wouldn’t feel vindicated by beating her yet again.

But it’d all be in the name of fun and games, and it’d make for a good distraction from the grimy city outside.

An entire universe inside of you.

MUSE AESTHETICS :  SLEEPING AT LAST  —  ATLAS

bold what always applies to your muse. italicize what applies to your muse conditionally.

DARKNESS

the mind was made to illuminate the heart.  /  we carve our names on the surface of history.  /  all our strength came out of the woodwork.  /  we only know this light as darkness crashes against it.  /  it’s a cruel trick how we find ourselves when we lose everything else.  /  our mistakes they were bound to be made.  /  the smell of the falling and burning leaves.  /  the bitterness of winter.  /  the sweetness of spring.  /  there was bad blood in us.  /  the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.  /  firewood burning bright in the dead of winter.  /  were we broken right from the start?  /  forgiveness is a lesson he cursed you to learn.  /  just live what little life your broken heart can.  /  just live what little life your mended heart can.  /  darkness exists to make life truly count.

SPACE ONE

space and time takes violent things, angry things, and makes them kind.  /  we are infinite as the universe we hold inside.  /  we may fall in love every time we open up our eyes.  /  i am desperate, if nothing else.  /  no one can unring this bell, unsound this alarm, unbreak my heart new.  /  i am dissonance waiting to be swiftly pulled into tune.  /  somehow i’ve fallen in love with this middle ground at the cost of my soul.  /  all of this mess is just my attempt to know the worth of my life.  /  the night sky once ruled my imagination.  /  let my change of heart occur.  /  fault lines tremble underneath my glass house.  /  there was an avalanche of change.  /  we laid our names to rest along the dotted line.  /  we were amateurs at war, strangers to suffering.  /  another lie from the front lines.  /  our backs against the wall, we’re surrounded and afraid.  /  though time is ruthless, it showed us kindness in the end.  /  a second chance to make amends.  /  losing track of what we’re fighting for.

SPACE TWO

a secret under lock and key.  /  while collecting the stars, i connected the dots.  /  i don’t know who i am, but now i know who i’m not.  /  make my messes matter, make this chaos count.  /  you taught me the courage of stars before you left.  /  how rare and beautiful it is to even exist.  /  a stained glass variation of the truth.  /  stitch by stitch i tore apart.  /  if brokenness is a form of art i muse be a poster child prodigy.  /  an open book with a torn out page.  /  a model citizen of doubt.  /  i’m pinned under the weight of what i believed would keep me safe.  /  show me where my armor ends, show me where my skin begins.  /  the heaviness that i hold in my heart is crushing me.

LAND

a little broken, a little new.  /  the impact and the glue.  /  some truths are sharper than knives.  /  truth’s got its sight set on you.  /  if truth is north, then i am true south.  /  i set out to rule the world with only a paper shield and a wooden sword.  /  i bear little resemblance to the king i once was.  /  i bear little resemblance to the king i could become.  /  half your heart has yet to come home.

LIFE

all we held dear was on the line.  /  my heart reconciled all the darkness and light inside my chest.  /  i saw the future unfold in silver and gold.  /  you are grace, you are light.  /  i can’t keep my head from spinning out of control.  /  is this what being vulnerable feels like?  /  i’m only steady on my knees.  /  i’ll run the risk of being intimate with brokenness.  /  a thousand fingerprints on the surface of who i am.  /  let the scaffolding inside of me be strong enough to hold this tired body up.  /  i was given a gift of hope.  /  

SENSES

fall in love in a single touch, and fall apart when it hurts too much.  /  all i want is to flip a switch before something breaks that cannot be fixed.  /  pain is a well-intentioned weatherman.  /  god, i want to feel again.  /  i am aware of what light tastes like.  /  like fists unravelling, like glass unshattering.  /  i’m well aware of the shadows within my heart.  /  i want to be astonished.  /  nothing less than a work in progress.  /  sacred text on post it notes.  /  the light goes out, my heart goes still.

EMOTIONS

the calm water in the middle of an anxious sea.  /  the starting line of an adventure.  /  the faint outline of the divine.  /  losing my balance again and again.  /  each brave step forward, i take three steps behind.  /  its mind over matter.  /  a single lose thread and it all comes undone.  /  in our great sorrow, we learn what joy means.  /  with a broken heart, transformation begins.  /  i feel the pressure building until i can’t breathe.  /  reckless but honest words leave my mouth.  /  it’s fight or flight.  /  a last minute man of faith.  /  kerosene on a flame of doubt.  /  it’s too late for holy water now.

TAGGED BY : @arcbright​ <3 TAGGING : just snag it & say i tagged u

Someone asks if you’re ok. The words don’t make sense. You ask them to repeat themselves. Someone asks if you’re ok. The words don’t make sense.

@grimesucker​ sent:  [text]: Some lady just walked up to me in the bar and proclaimed that I looked like a “shady motherfucker.” Can’t argue with that one.

tfln  ☆☆  accepting

[ txt: slum mom ]  you really can’t [ txt: slum mom ]  you’re in a bar in the uc and she picked YOU out of everyone else in that bar [ txt: slum mom ]  i’m not even there and i know that 90% of the crowd is shady looking [ txt: slum mom ]  if someone came up to you specifically to tell you that you look shady, it’s actually impossible to argue

where else can you find me?  i tend to be all over the place, spending time wherever i have the most muse on a given day. should you want to follow me elsewhere, here’s a list of all of my currently active blogs:

bigaoneun:  kang si-u, an original character created for ghost’s undercity (he does have other verses though!). an anxious blind boy with a green thumb & a great deal of pent up rage.

yosulbujog:  baek minjoon, an original character created for a modern setting. an apathetic witch who prefers gaming over witchcraft & makes a living as a streamer.

byanyan:  byan, an original character created for ghost’s undercity (they will have other verses though!). a fiery teen whose hobbies include kicking your ass & stealing your things, all while wearing a hello kitty backpack.

Do you ever just go wow I have a lot of repressed anger