( meme status: not accepting! )

A FEW MONTHS PRIOR:

When looking at Carmen, it was impossible not to have a certain song play in the back of her mind.

The boys, the girlsThey all like CarmenShe gives them butterflies, bats her cartoon eyes

It seemed fitting to Candy, someone who thought the entire world of the other. A dreamy girl, who deserved a theme song just like her. Most songs referencing her name were of the dirty kind, comparing sweets to sexual actions. Something she preferred to ignore, even when her viewers spammed said lyrics in her chat.

Over the years, Candy had made lots of progress on the course of accepting herself. Her hands were the opposite of dainty, rough to the touch. The locks she sported, which currently resided in a bob-length nest on the top of her head, were expected to be kept short and clean at all times. There were times she woke up and felt marooned in her own body. She had come to terms with the body hair, the deep voice, the Adam’s apple, but even she was prone to weakness on occasion.

Weakness typically came in the form of envy. To stare at women and long for what they had. Carmen was quite possibly the number one example of inciting such deplorable emotions. The moment Candy’s eyes first laid upon her, she audibly sucked air in between her teeth. She was just that beautiful.

Now, she looked at the other with nothing, but adoration in its purest form. The kind only two girls can discover within themselves. She sat behind her friend, fingers twisting a sole braid into the loose bangs of her hair. They shared a certain air in between them, which felt miraculous. Candy’s heart raced, a mixture of platonic enamor and knowing that Carmen was aware of her deepest, darkest secret, yet still kept her close to her own heart.

The usage of correct pronouns always made Candy’s stomach flip, conjuring an excited anxiety that she wouldn’t mind embracing every second of every single day. Whenever Carmen referred to her as a “girl”, she swore she could fly away on the waves of her own joy.

With her chin resting on the other’s shoulder, she allowed her eyes to close, exuding nothing but contentedness. She felt alive, as if she could take on ten thousand giants and defeat them all. Maybe Carmen felt the same with the way giggles reverberated through her being.

“Hm?” Candy hummed, too relaxed to even speak properly. Silence was worn between them, like a blanket, keeping them safe from the causalities of every day, normal life.

“I speak for the nameless,” she spoke lucidly, the manner she wore ― herself and her words ― nothing, if not completely serious. With a raised eyebrow, Candy inspected Carmen’s expression, which seemed fit to burst. When she finally exploded, a fit of laughter pouring out, she understood perfectly what was going on.

“Carmen! You’re stoned off your ass!” she chastised teasingly, her grip curling lightly around her wrist. “And you didn’t bring me any? For shame.”

“I will next time! I promise!”

[ x ]; accepting!

slender fingers rubbed away at his eyelids as he yawned softly, sleepiness clinging to him like a warm blanket. it was definitely a slow day for the young lad. it was a day to just kick back and relax. to curl up under his sheets and let the slumber consume him– but he wasn’t going to do any of that. he wasn’t going to succumb to his weakness just yet. he felt that it would’ve been disrespectful towards the other, who had most likely than not cleared her schedule for the day just to stop by and check on him. just to see how he was holding up— if he was holding up at all, and blue appreciated that, considering the fact that it had been a long while since the two had seen each other. 

“give and take. that’s life.”

blue sighed some, running his fingers through the tangled, matted mess that he called his hair. his eyebrows furrowed together, and a small frown etched itself onto his tired facial features— the result of the topic of their conversation. now, he isn’t a naive person. he likes to think of himself as someone who is open minded and knows a lot more than he lets on, but judging by the way he took in all this information, it was clear he was young indeed. “yeah, but….” he started, the dissatisfied look still evident on his face.

he definitely had a long way to go.

          meme // accepting

SOURCE: MOVIE SENTENCE STARTER.↳ STATUS: Open!

( @kabonvi​ / source: here / status: not accepting! )

JULY 2015:

Feigning morality became easier when stoned out of one’s mind. His being felt lighter, the material of his human suit looser against his frame. Drugs and alcohol were one of the few keys to unlocking Moonsik’s rare cordial side, becoming friendlier with each huff and sip. If someone watched closely enough, they might find him smiling to himself, amused by the walls shifting in and out.

Women, while considered weaker to himself, were a massive weakness for the writer. He could watch them for hours, line of vision clinging to every soft curve, allowing his veins to thrum out a dedication. For a few moments, he’d be enamored, only to push worthless thoughts out of his mind. People such as he were not meant to lose themselves in idle fantasies.

But then he saw her. Small and lithe, with permanent anger plastered across her expression, she stood against a nearby wall, appearing to be watching much like himself. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was making sure everything was going well, keeping a tight grip on the party he knew wasn’t hers. People like this, who wore an obvious disregard for society, were what nabbed his attention, amongst a sea of boring normalcy.

Practically floating across the room, he settled next to the stranger, joint clutched in between his fingers. Sadly, his false charms evaporated when under intoxication’s spell, leaving behind a mere awkward shell of a man. But he was determined not to leave the gathering without learning her name.

His voice lulled, unable to keep from grinning like an idiot, as smoke settled in his lungs. Naturally, a woman like her had better things to do than listen to drunk men ramble about their conquests. Simply, he’d have to prove himself better and worthy of her time.

“Are you having fun?” he muttered, gaze locked with the floor.

Silence.

Looking up, he found that she was watching him, rather than responding. Sizing him up, more than likely thinking that he was too damn tall for his own good. It was fine, only the truth.

“What’s your name?”

For a moment, she contemplated answering, before responding, “Carmen.”

“Carmen? That sounds like some kind of praying mantis bitch name. Do you spend your time biting men’s heads off?”

This earned him the tiniest grin. “Maybe.”

He was fine with it, chuckling airily more to himself than anyone else.

The pad of his thumb slid along the rim of his cup, feeling the ever familiar loom of social inability creep in. Wasn’t speaking supposed to be easier when drunk? Yet he became more aware, how words weren’t nearly as articulate. Inherent failure to an author’s mind.

“Sorry.” A rare apology. For what, he didn’t even know. “Basic human emotions are not my strong suit,” he professed openly, losing himself to the gaze centered on him.

A quiet admission slipped past her lips, “Me either.”

Suddenly, he felt more at ease.

뭐효? random sentence starters!누구? @kabonvi!상태? not accepting!

        A boy of bulky hands and ungainly demeanor -- he carries himself with perplexity that is somewhat (mildly) charming ... he is able to enrapture nearly anyone with the boyish laughter of his that erupts from the midst of his throat and emits through his parted lips. He’s a boy of self-destruction in the most unforeseen or calculated ways; gauche and maladroit, he’s prone to havoc unintentionally, incidentally. He cannot guard his own self in most cases scenarios as for it is rather strenuous for him to find the right gestures or balance (both physical and emotional) to succor himself, as piteous as it is in reality. Therefore, being in position of holding such great responsibility upon a toddler is something entirely, manifestly wrong to be given to such a boy as himself and even as the five year old holds some certain sense of reason in his developing premature mind, the young lad cannot find common sense -- a place of compromission between the two of them that will enable quietude. Instead, the pile of crayons and toys are scattered all over the floor and just as the mess that is displayed on the wooden floor -- so is the youngster’s hair and state; he’s completely jaded of the several endeavores he’s had of gaining control into his hands. He cannot ever be in charge of any one or any thing -- small children in particular. 

                        “Yeah, I, ... I’m --”

         Blue crayon, black crayon, green one split in half and a accumulation of block in yellows blues and reds -- matching the blush of quandary that is evident upon his cheeks. Not in a gracious way, but his high and defined cheekbones are exceptionally accentuated with mild hues of pink on his somewhat fair skin. The expression of mortification and culpability that nibbles on his insides from within is evident, as well -- and perhaps the situation isn’t as terrible as it appears to be in his perspective albeit the guiltiness of being impetuous and headlong has its hazardous effect on the young one once he has to face the mother of the now colored child (without considering the fact Jinhong's own cheeks and hands resemble a tender war of colorful paint). Long story short; he's gotten himself into a mess that he just cannot get out of.