Steven Yeun Photographed By Joana Pak, 2015.

It’s OK to be a little weird. You’re an artist and people expect that. Don’t let them down. Now, let’s give this tree a friend. There.

Bob Ross (via wnq-anonymous)

Steven Yeun in Burning (2018) dir. Lee Chang-dong

hcdsn‌:

Keeping up the facade that he was little more than passionate about history and all that it offered up within it’s grasp had always been far too easy for Hudson. He had the ability to retain far more information than most and whatever necessary education he might have needed to pass it off as simply a hobby to those who knew no better. Those that didn’t see his interest in the old and lackluster as the vying grasp for a power he didn’t have yet. “Nothing yet,” He remarked, meandering his way to the desk Silas sat behind, just as he had time and time again. “Anything caught yours?” Or, more to the point, had any thought been considered to Hudson when he’d seen something that might likely belong in a museum rather than his store. “Just wondering if you’ve seen anything come through.. maybe heard about something you don’t have, that I might be a interested in?” Far too often, people held onto things far more valuable than they ever considered them to be; merely for the fact they’d looked so dull, shattered and broken.

This question was typical, even if that exact phrase hadn’t always left Hudson’s mouth. Customers often came in looking for any kind of connection, especially rare pieces. Estate sales of wealthy philanthropists whose kids had no love for the antique style and would rather see money in their pockets were prime locations. Luckier even if the family didn’t realize they have items of magical value. That’s where Silas came in. He would try to bid for objects before the public eye got the chance and in turn, sell them or upscale them for his shop. The real issue was pinning down what his customer was looking for and with the current being so vague, it was hard for Silas to understand what exact direction he should take this. “A few things have,” he started, leaning lightly on his chevron wood counter top, “Three estate sales up north and one in Bulgaria. All seem to be promising depending on what you might be looking for.” He reached for his phone, placing it on the counter to ready himself for examples.

Get to know the people in my muse’s life.

fiery-witch‌:

ofhotheads-blog‌:

Send me a symbol and I’ll tell you about…

🌟 …someone my muse trusts. 💔 …someone who broke my muse’s heart. 💕 …someone my muse loves.  😒 …someone my muse hates. 🔥…someone my muse would die for. 💀 …someone my muse would kill for. 👻 …someone my muse considers a best friend. 💘 …someone my muse has a crush on. 🔪 …someone my muse hurt in the past. 👀 …someone my muse likes, but doesn’t trust. 💩 …someone my muse dislikes, but admires. 👿 …someone my muse used to like, but doesn’t anymore. 😉 …someone my muse has had sex with. 💋 …someone my muse used to date. 😜 …someone who makes my muse laugh. 👪 …someone in my muse’s family. 👑 …someone my muse is jealous of. 👊 …someone who hates my muse. 👫 …someone who has a crush on my muse. 👌 …someone my muse has only met once, but will never forget. 🍓…someone my muse has never met, but wants to meet. 👰 …someone my muse would consider marrying.

Put ☎ in my ask for your muses info in my muses phone:

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gabrielxnikephoros​:

Gabriel had idly wondered how Silas had fared during the entire ordeal, though the other incubus had drifted from his mind after their argument. He’d told himself that he didn’t need to take care of the other cubi in the city, not when he had his own issues to deal with – and with the exception of Kasandra. Fran, Silas, and Chris were going to have to just deal. Though that didn’t mean he didn’t care, it was just difficult for him to maintain any kind of balance in his personal life. 

The sound of Silas’ voice only made him frown, the usual joy he felt seeing the other somewhat tampered by their last conversation. Setting the book down, he looked at his friend, “Being one of the only librarians here, I can take a break whenever I want.” He flipped the little sign around on the desk to say “on break,” looking at the other incubus expectantly. “Do you need something?”

Being ruthless and unfeeling was never in Silas’s dna. Even after all these years, along with the transition into an incubus, it was hard for him to altogether let go of the person he was in the past. He felt that now more than ever as the guilt was more prominent than before, charcoal irises locking onto Gabriel’s solemn expression, and gave him an empathetic look in return. Gabe wasn’t the one that had lied or acted out of his usual ways, Silas had. Now that the Kyun was mostly back to himself, bags still present under his eyes even with all the sleep, it was easy for him to stick with the path of patience. “I just want to apologize for the way I acted and treated you,” the words came out smooth and heartfelt. It wasn’t hard for him to admit when he had behaved in the wrong fashion, to confront the issue and take accountability, “A friend should never be treated so poorly.” Silas allowed the silence to take over from there, not wanting to add more onto what should be simple. He had overstepped his boundaries once and it was now in Gabriel’s hands to either forgive or keep their divide. How things had been since the two parted ways was hardly any of the fellow cubi’s concern and the destruction of the scale was information he would only give if asked.

noahkramer‌:

who: @silaskyun​ where: silas’ shop

      Noah had seen a ghost. Alright, so it wasn’t a ghost – it was just a man who looked a lot like his father from afar, and nothing like him up close. It had still shaken up Noah’s mind, that was already fragile enough lately, and caused him to search shelter through the next door he could find. Only when he had pushed the door shut with a loud banging sound did he realize he had invaded someone’s shop, and was staring right at the owner’s face, his own pale and frightened. “I’m so sorry.” The moment he realized how abnormal he had been behaving, he transformed his face into a smile. “I just – I thought I saw someone outside and then…” A weak laugh escaped him, and he shook his head as he ran a hand through his hair. “My mind’s playing tricks on me. I didn’t mean to ruin your door.” And he really hoped he hadn’t.

“Nothing I can’t fix,” tinges of surprise still hung in his voice, though the cubi’s expression remained calm as he looked over the stranger. Odd things had always happened around Silas and the shops he had managed to own over the years, so a terrified person running in was truly nothing new. War had allowed him to see more than what he wanted to be familiar with though the cubi knew that he was better off for it. The more Silas knew, the better when it came to life. Growing knowledge about the emerald scale, along with Eidolons vanishing from the streets, Silas was more paranoid than usual but he swallowed it. He moved casually towards him to glance over the door, jiggling the handle once he arrived and shrugged, “Seems fine.” But he couldn’t stop thinking about who— more like what, was outside that caused him to flee in the first place. Charcoal hues peeking outside the pathways to see if anything would come of it, but all he could see were faces of employees happy they were relieved of their evening duties.

I like observing people. I like looking at things.

Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out  (via slytherinwritess)

ikarosxtheoinos​:

@silaskyun​

The club was alive and Ikaros felt as if he was having an out of body experience, he’d locked eyes with just about everyone on the dance floor. Slowly, the writhing bodies pressed in the club were turning ugly, a fight broke out after a couple of guys started getting into it. Each side imagined slights from the other as Ikaros toyed with the a few auditory and visual hallucinations. A bartender felt someone’s drink hit their face and with a practiced ease, Ikaros triggered a tactile illusion to simulate the cold sting of the ice and whatever else was in the glass. A girl slapped some guy and called over her boyfriend after she swore he’d grabbed her from the back, there was a heated dispute between a group of guys, another individual crying in the corner as everyone teamed up against them. 

Ikaros was having fun. Whatever enjoyable and predictable scene might have typically transpired on a Saturday night was something else entirely. Anarchy. Someone jumped over the bar and started throwing bottles across the room before security was lifting them back over, bodies were hitting the ground, people were weeping and running and laughing and fornicating. It hadn’t taken much, not really. People see what they needed to see and madness could follow. 

The kobalos sat at the bar, inconspicuous and barely noticeable, except perhaps that he was the only person who appeared even remotely sane. He met eyes with some good looking guy who looked terrified, Ikaros hadn’t afflicted him with any illusions but - was he casting some of his own? Ikaros was old, he remembered when the cubi were much more numerous than what numbers remained now. Still handsome, but maybe not as striking as Ikaros had initially thought. “Afraid you’re probably going to have to make your own drink,” the bartender hit the floor and Ikaros tilted his glass towards Silas, “don’t think you’re getting served tonight.”

The only time the incubus really found himself inside a club was when he had pushed himself to the limits of his hunger— starving and looking for easy prey. Random strangers off the street seemed to always lead him into tricky situations and the inebriated ones hardly knew their soul had been tainted. They blamed it on the liquor or whatever drug they had ingested, leaving Silas in the clear. That’s why he hung onto the sidelines more often than not, playing mysterious, just to see if he could lure any of them in without having to try for it. This allowed him to keep an eye on his surroundings, watch the crowd and how they moved. Most importantly, if any of them were actually just wolves in sheep’s clothing.

But this was a whole different sequence entirely. Disorder and havoc had seemed to take over every inch, making it burdensome to pick out his dinner. He watched as an argument over a woman ensued, her drink hitting the floor while the man Silas assumed she was supposedly there with planted a beer bottle on the others head. Next sight was the bartender who seemed to be wrestling with some of his own issues, droplets of liquid still making their way down his face before he suddenly hit the floor.

A petrified look crept onto the cubi’s face before he noticed a man clearly sizing him up. Silas wondered how long he had actually been watching him, realizing then that the stranger was really the only one that appeared to act, well, normal. That sure added to his curiosity, though the scene around him was just as curious. Even the recent festival now seemed utterly tame, along with his years of watching war and rebellion, and his charcoal irises did their best to capture as much as they could. “I’d say,” rapid head nods, followed by him unhesitatingly reaching for the closest bottle of clear liquor to refresh his drink and placing a few dollars in the bartender's tip jar, “Never seen it like this before.” ‘Never seen this ever,’ he thought as he looked back down at the bartender that was now unconscious, “Think he’s alright?”