hello sweetie, i love your blog and i love you you are so cute keep it up ^^ i just wanted to ask if you have any good like factory for all eunhae videos even the oldest ones or a fansite or smth i struggle to find all those moments i saw a long tiime ago anyway have a good day and thankyouu
Hi anon-nom~ ^^
You love my blog? You love me? I am so cute? But why are you being so precious? ;;__;; Don’t be like this.. *sob sob* :-) ♥
So.. I tried to collect some Youtube channels for Eunhae/Haehyuk moments. I hope it will help you, here you go~
outofcharacter: “In response to Animus-inspire’s post here because they are just that goodat discovering my muse’s weakness, or maybe it was just that there was simply no way at all a resisting the adorable that is Reeve Tuesti. Congratulation Eli. Here, have a blushing gunman who’s using every bit of his self-composure to stay that same cool gunman we all knew. By the way, he wants to share that jello paw with the Cat but he wasn’t too sure if Caitsith was designed with the ability to consume the same product human do or not.”
“Vincent! Vincent!! Jeez, where has that man gone!?” The ex-barmaid and now (kind of) a terrorist huffed. Petite brows knotted together in a tiny frown, even with the mild expression of disdain upon her face, it hasn’t, in any way, lessened her beauty. Tifa Lockheart is a gems among Midgar’s decomposing ruin. The barmaid knows what she has. Still, she has never let it becomes what she is.
“Whaao. Whoa. Lassie.” Piping a squeaky noise. Tifa is hardly tall, but its owner is much shorter. A glance taken down yields a sight of a cat, cladded in black and white fur. if it wasn’t for the fact that the cat can talk, his maroon cape and his size would be enough to draw eyes. “Ain’t need to shout.” The same piping tone continued, now laced with laughter. “Now what are you needing that vampy for?” The remark about the other party in question is enough to draw a smile and it is in his name that she indulged in that luxery. “Cait.”
Smile is rare these days, but him, he always manages to brought that upon them– the robotic cat whose fortune passed upon to the others.
“Have you seen Vincent?” Petite hand that doesn’t hold the look of someone who can kick a pack of mountain wolves into oblivion was also held up. Between her fingers is a crystal vial. Its magenta hue liquid reflects upon the sun. “He said he was feeling a bit under the weather earlier…so.” The barmaid, being herself and the carer for Barette’s daughter, she couldn’t help seeing to her friend’s well-being, even when it is one I-despite-all-human-being-and-their-deficiency ex-Turks.
Vincent is a comrade. He is a friend, a family as much as the robotic cat before her: that is all that’s matter. With winter’s coming, the light flush on the gunman’s cheeks has suggested it isn’t merely something he can dismiss with words as he normally does.
Luckily robot can never catch a cold. Bemused, the stars of her eyes accompanied her tease. “And why are you out walking alone anyway?” Caitsith and his moogle, they are mostly one and the same– inseparable. Head tilting, she awaits the answer. If her worry for the gunman hasn’t preceded most, the sight would be quite comical. With a thud of one fist (or paw?) meeting his palm (or paw?), the cat snaps his fingers, voice raising a crescendo as tiny form bounced in his jubilant glee. “Ah! I see!” Instead of curing her curiosity, Caitsith merely brought his gloved digit upon his lips. A robot cat that he is, he hasn’t forgotten the nature that constitutes all cats. There’s mischief in his gait as insisting hand tugged her along. Cat that he is, his gait also cautions her to take heed at enforcing her stealth.
Now why is he…? She would have asked too. Hadn’t the sight before her stopping her short. Her two questions answered in one glance. Arms laced, head bowing into his crimson cloak, the gunman’s shrouded form cut in contrast against the white of Caitsith companion’s fur, hidden away from winter’s breeze. Long jet lashes fluttered in their closure, clear claret stones were veiled from this world. If she can peer closer without being certain that she would wake him up, she could almost say he’s looking at peace.
Every man needs a rest, even for one one I-despite-all-human-being-and-their-deficiency ex-Turks. Tifa thinks he has found his in this company he chose to keep.
With a smile and an index pressed upon her lips in the same manner of mischief exhibited by Caitsith earlier, she beckons the others away. The vial was left in a place he would see upon waking up.