#( 8 ) : introsp.

[minghs]

     我寂寞寂寞就好，你真的不用来我回忆微笑

a hand slips into yours, fingers interlocking in a way that has you marveling just at how well the gaps between his and yours seem to align perfectly— despite the differences in size, despite the way one hand is much more calloused than the other. it's sneaky, the way the hand inches down your arm, ghosting over your skin, then slides into place— snapping in place as though the gaps between your fingers was a keyhole and his fingers were the the golden - adorned and delicate carved key. together, their hands created a lock that only they could unlock.

it doesn't quite pull you out of your stupor just yet, your mind having been a couple clouds away— a couple hundred universes away, a couple skips ahead of time, a couple paces in the past— but you tighten your grip over his as a way of telling him that you're here despite the distance your mind is putting from your physical presence.

he's adept at catching onto how far you travel, his eyes are all - peering— as though you're in a galaxy and the bright, blinking stars are his eyes, simply peering and gazing. it should be unnerving. to the normal person, it would be unnerving and yet, are you normal?

your answer is in the way you turn your head and smile lovingly at the doe - like eyes boring holes into your head— as if any minute now, he would be able to peel the barrier between skin and brain to take a look at how many galaxies away you are, as if to see how many nebulas combusting in the thin layer of space you've witnessed. you find this habit of his cute, the way he speaks with his gaze, because it mirrors your own. no need is there for verbal affirmations if eyes do the speaking and so well do they speak.

you're not normal in the slightest. when you blink and your eyes close for the quickest second, you find comfort in his multitude of eyes peering at you in the vast galaxy you find yourself floating in— in a sense, it keeps you afloat, an anchor so you won't skip too far ahead with your thoughts. in another sense, it shows you that he's aware and he's looking after you. in a final sense, it shows that he cares and loves. he sees you.

a desperate hammering occurs in the spans of your chest, the hollowness allowing the acoustics of your thundering heart to echo and reverberate throughout your entire body— a tremble of the fingers: an oncoming fluster. here is where you contradict— you like it and yet, it makes you shy. the eyes in the space of your mind are unblinking and unrelenting, so while they give you comfort, they also make you flush with embarrassment. you like it too much to the point where it makes you squirm, sweat, and prickle with heat.

" stop, " you murmur in soft - spoken mandarin, your tongue heavy and light all at once. cotton candy melts in the way you speak, head tilting just so in order to hide your face from the bustling crowds running to and fro around them— a secret just for him to hear and for you to speak. it's not a heavy word, not in the way it's meant to be, but it makes him grin so fox - like that you can't help but roll your eyes.

your smile curves on your face, feline - like energy coiling off your body, snake eyes drifting from their hands to the pebbled pavement. you're a glutton for self - punishment it seems, and he knows it.

when you attempt to figure out your bearings ( which galaxy have you landed in? how many clouds have you skipped? ), you find that you have absolutely no idea. your lashes flutter, intrigue and confusion crossing onto your visage just briefly, before it slips away from you. when you tap into the galaxy of your mind, bright stars sparkling lovingly, you notice there are no eyes watching you. all around, the eyes have taken their rest— closed, content.

the breath that hangs in the cavern of your mouth is heavy, quiet, and unmoving. your fingers tighten around his, mind and body now aligned with your physical presence, feet in tune with his. your chest loosens, the breath that had been stalled now coming out as a soft exhale, your arm pressing delicately against his own: a gesture of gratitude, of a quiet and sure love. you can feel his smile pressing against your ear, the shadows of a food stall obscuring you and him from view ( an awkward corner of the night market they're walking through ), and you can't help the way you laugh, hands cupping his cheeks to plant a kiss to his mouth.

[minghs]

     我寂寞寂寞就好，你真的不用来我回忆微笑

⌯  there's a cup out of place, you notice it quickly— your fingers push it back to its position gently, tenderly, yet also thoughtlessly. as though, if you pushed it further enough into the perfectly carved hole in your shelf, the cup would fall backwards and shatter. still, subconsciously perhaps, you refrained from pushing it too far. your eyes trace the distinct cracks in the body of the clay cup, wondering if its time is now coming to a close— whether it would crumble into dust and scattered stories, whispered secrets, into the cusp of your palm the next time you pour piping hot water into it. you decide the burden is a heavy one to bear and draw your hand back from the aged cup with a soft sigh sounding as though it were on the brink of trembling apart, combusting into a million stars in the space between you and your shelf of stories, secrets, shoved into the confined spaces of your teapots.

⌯  there's a sandy beach where you dig your toes into, allowing the warmth of a sun-kissed shore to embrace you from head-to-toe, akin to a mother's love encasing you whole. it's not home, though it can be considered home all the same; you have not been here in a long while— you could not muster up the confidence to come here, not to this beach, not to this country nor city, not to this building. you close your eyes and a flood of memories come rushing up to your chin, threatening to drown your voice out— a plea to let you surface. yet, the warmth of the sand plucks you out of the quicksand and your feet, moving on their own accord, drift towards the tantalizing and alluring waves crawling towards you. you feel like a thirsty man in the middle of a desert, searching for an oasis and soon to be succumbing to his own hallucinations— you feel that way because you think you can see a bottle in the distance, a star containing a wish trapped within it's body, but when you blink... it has disappeared. or perhaps, it never existed in the first place.

[minghs]

    把月光幻想成，仿佛它也正在伤心 .ᐟ

⌕ when they tell a story, do they tell a story in a straightforward sort of way or does the story end up getting derailed with other, minute details?

" i think i take a sip, one more, a little too fast— and the tea itself is hot, you would assume, but in the moment, i had simply wanted to taste it and revel in the warmth. it was good, when i think back on it now, but at the time— i was young, okay? but at the time, back then, i didn't like it. it was gross, tasted like dirt, and my mom would try to get me to drink herbal teas for my health. " he murmurs softly, words spilling delicately over the stillness of the jade liquid lingering in his teacup, ripples instantly forming to disturb the serenity through the way his sighed out words cascade ever - so - lightly over his tea. he laughs, too, at the memory, his brows pinching together when he reminisces at how his mother had tried hard to get him to drink healthier liquids instead of carbonated drinks. " i was a pain to my mother, " he tacks on as an afterthought, quiet in the way he ruminates. " it doesn't seem like it, i know, but i was a menace. she didn't know what to do with me sometimes and i was— am her only child. i think the protectiveness rears up even more in that aspect, " another pause, another sip. " and the anger. " glee scrawls into the minute flaws and crevices of his face, lines appearing as he laughs, the sound delicate and tinkling. " ah, anyway, where was i? the tea, right? so, i sipped too fast and burnt my tongue ... "

[minghs]

what jewel are your bones made of?

amber,    you hold in your heart fragments of everything that has ever passed through you. the good, the bad, the utterly mundane. ⌾ you catch it all and keep it. ⌾ you have a singular talent for holding on tight ⌾ collector, scavenger, hoarder, keeper ⌾ core: memory

[minghs]

what type of lonely are you?

loneliness of the love,    you were born into your loneliness, your family always had better things to love. you're a hopeless romantic, of your friends there's only one or two you haven't fallen for. it's a pattern, you don't want to think about that, though. every person you get close with, your heart locks them into your life. the chains are too tight, or too heavy because they always become overwhelmed and leave. you're too much, a violently bright fire trying to be held by gentle human hands. it's no wonder you burn them. you just aren't meant for love like humans are.

once you're stripped clean, what's at your core?

silent admission,    in tarot, the fool is numbered 0 – the number of unlimited potential. as the protagonist, he is ever present and therefore needs no number as well as no introduction. the world revolves around you in ways that i can't begin to describe, though you'd shrug it off if i were to begin to explain. i need you to know that time is running out. if you want to get this done, you need to start now. sloth is your greatest enemy in this world, and you can only run so far from the opposition when you start with such a disadvantage. keep your head high, yeah? the kid you were is still in there somewhere. you need to show him that it was worth it.

[minghs]

    introspective quiz results ! under the read more are just a couple of results i compiled instead of individually posting them and cluttering the dash !

what color is your aura?

green,    climbing ivy, snake eyes, frogs, rainboots, koi ponds, abandoned places, clovers. your essence is green: you are bright-eyed and cerebral, unearthing questions. you are devoted to your pride; you struggle to feel worthwhile if you do not have any answer for everything. it is hard for you to not fixate intensely and be certain you are not mundane. you are the orator. you are the totem. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of forest, sage, chartreuse, and jade, who share your desire to learn. you are also drawn to the creative souls blue and orange, who will help you grow and know it is okay to stay guessing. however, you may struggle to get along with the bleeding heart personalities of pink and yellow who are too wrapped up in pleasing others.

what kind of love are you?

love as the dawn,    pastel, saccharine and hopeful, your love rises slow to greet the day. it tiptoes on doe feet and blossoms bit by bit, petal by petal. love is new to you, isn’t it? a fresh discovery in a world you do not quite understand. your love loves with bated breaths. your love swoons and sighs and lingers under awnings. your love romanticizes. your love aches as tenderly as a bruise. you’re swollen with desire and idealizations. the perfect kiss, the perfect touch, the perfect partner in life. your love is wide-eyed and innocent, naive and pristine and oh, so very easily breakable. being loved by you is to be loved by a child, by a lamb, wooly-eyed and helpless. oh. i really hope it lasts.

what kiss trope is your narrative?

the now or never kiss,    the last kiss? no, it's not the last, but the characters don't know that. death appears imminent — the temperature is rising, the room is filling up with water, the plane is about to hit the ground, the rope they're dangling from is about to break and drop them off the cliff, the room is on fire and the door's locked, the world is coming to an end… the point is, this is no place for unresolved sexual tension. the not-a-couple don't want to go out without revealing how they really feel. it's now or never. they kiss. this can also be ' now or maybe never ' kiss; one or both are heading into danger, or likely-potential death.

how are you color coded?

green coded,    green, a study in living life, growth, and change. you're one of the people who often find themselves believing that anybody can be better than they are right now, should they put in the effort. you know when to quit, of course, but that tolerance is very high. you know when to put faith in the right people, but that knowledge was earned the hard way. the world is a dangerous place, and you know that. but that doesn't mean that life isn't worth living. the world is a place full of danger, of love, of wonder. you know that firsthand.

[minghs]

which symbolic fruit are you?

cherry, in popular culture, cherries have come to represent sensuality, sex, and seduction. in the cult classic, twin peaks, audrey horne expresses her sexual expertise by tying a cherry stem with her tongue. " cherry " is also used to refer to the concept of virginity: why? i don't know to be honest, but here we are. much like the cherry, you're a sensual person who enjoys all the creature comforts the world offers. you enjoy delicious food, dynamic relationships, passionate lovemaking and stimulating conversation; however, you may also come across a touch vapid or shallow, due to your quickly fading attention when something has served its usefulness to you. to quote some man on tinder: " you're here for a good time, not a long time ". you can come across, at times, slightly tart, carrying a bit of a bite to you that not everyone can handle. that’s okay: you’re an acquired taste!

tagged by: @dollypardonne tagging: whoever!

[minghs]

statistical character personality test. take the linked quiz from the perspective of your character, then select 5-10 results from the complete matches list that you feel resonate with your character the most.

alice cullen  (twilight) 90%

legolas (lord of the rings) 86%

jasmine  (aladdin) 85%

black panther  (marvel cinematic universe) 84%

nala  (the lion king) 84%

lumiere  (beauty and the beast) 83%

sailor mars  (sailor moon) 80%

[minghs]

you don't know what it is until the end.

guardian, this place is your home. and this place is the one you will protect until the day you die. you stand there, marveling in this place you love. nothing gets past you. the flaw of your position is that if anything bad happens here, it feels like it is your fault.

[minghs]

which type of romanticism are you?

pure romanticism, starry eyes, interlaced fingers, cooking for a loved one: you're pure romanticism. pure romanticism is an easy love and a mindless joy, it's knowing you'll always have someone around to laugh at your jokes and live in complete awe of you. pure romanticism entails gentle feelings of belonging, floating a foot in the air wherever you go, as long as you know that you have someone to love, and to love you just as much as you love them. you're an honest individual, and it shows that that's what you value most in a relationship. you often float through life and become frustrated with yourself for silly mistakes, but you need to take things slower and walk once in a while. life is not only the pursuit of love, but everything that you learn about yourself on the way. be kinder to yourself, be your own lover when things get tough. " we can die a thousand times in one lifetime " - david jones

[minghs]

    把月光幻想成，仿佛它也正在伤心 .ᐟ

⌕ how does the image your character tries to project differ from the image they were told to project?

the lines blur from reality and fantasy— what he wishes to show and what he needs to show, it becomes the same and it, then, becomes dangerous to maneuver the path. when he was younger, it was simpler when he had a role: act cute, you're a foreigner and you're clueless. it's better for you to amp up your charms. he was naturally cute, the attribute stuck to his back like a leech living off of his very being that he could not seem to knife off even if he tried. now, he wonders if the thinly veiled curtain from who he projects versus who he is comes across well enough— whether or not his fans understand the truth that unsheathes itself like a precious blade hidden up his sleeve this whole time. he protects his peace by drawing lines with a thick white, chalky line on the ground: he trusts his fans to understand who he truly he is and, in the same vein, he trusts his members and his friends to understand him at his core. why would he keep those who refuse to understand his true image around at that point?

⌕ what was the best thing in your character’s life?

to have fallen in love. faltering loves, spiraling loves, all-consuming loves, dizzying loves— to have fallen in love at all was a privilege he considered only the emotionally rational to have and the question thus remained: did he consider himself sane? rational? emotionally stable? was he any of that and did he deserve to love at all? in each phase of his life where he had fallen in such a deep, abysmal love, he would answer: yes. but then he would come out of it answering: no. still, to love is a golden opportunity that he considered a blessing more than a punishment; to love and to have been love was something he thoroughly felt reverent over, as though the goddess of love was his patron goddess alone. love, he believes, is not pinned to simply one type of love— though when in love, your mind spirals out of control, your heart taken by the tides of a tempestuous storm, and it is hard to differentiate from what is right and what is wrong. but you are in love and what could be better than such a liberating feeling? why would one need alcohol when all they need is the love they feel for people to simply get drunk off of? why seek out happiness when those who love you so purely exist?

[minghs]

what sky are you?

sunset, you are wistful goodbyes and unspoken promises. you are warmth and comfort for others. but sometimes you give so much of yourself that it leaves you cold inside. it's bittersweet, offering other people the care and affection you crave for yourself as well, but you wouldn't do any less if it means the people you love are content. you're very grounded, but you long for things you can't quite name - perhaps a time when your heart was full and your spirit free.

[minghs]

ROMANTIC GESTURES

holding hands (in public) · buying flowers · cooking · cuddles · writing a poem / song · holding door open · tying shoe laces · sharing a milkshake with two straws · offering their jacket when it's cold · kissing in the rain · publicly confessing love · long walks at the beach · doing the titanic pose on a boat · taking cute pictures in a photo booth · sharing a taxi / uber · kissing the back of their hand · slow dancing · getting tickets of their favorite artist / sports team / other · introducing them to their parent(s) · lighting candles · flower petals on bed · love letters · star gazing · brushing / doing their hair · picnics · teaching them to play an instrument / sport while gently guiding their hands · compliments · late night drives · taking selfies together · drawing them · self-made gifts · massages · proposing with a family heirloom ring · lending them their favourite book to read · paying for dinner / coffee · mix tapes / playlists · surprise birthday parties · feeding them · handing them keys to their apartment · making space in drawer for their clothes when they stay over · sharing a blanket · couple costumes · tucking a hair strand behind their ear · running after them at the airport / keeping them from leaving · moving cities to be together · blowing a kiss · breakfast in bed · defending them in a fight (verbally / physically) · joint bubble baths · dropping the L-bomb ("i love you") · dedicating a song at the karaoke bar to them · wearing their clothes · yawning before putting an arm around them while watching a movie · grant them the last bite (from meal)

[minghs]

which imaginary illness do you have?

melancholic pneumonia, you carry the past with you, it clutters up your lungs. the golden sand of beloved memories, the rainbow of missed opportunities you still agonize over, the dust of a life spend doing mostly banal things. they escape you with every breath, your cough stained with impossible colors. in a way, the dust reflects your constant forgetting of the past - the hundreds of things you let go of every day to make room for hundreds more. you are choking on your own past, the architect of your own demise, each breath sour and harsh. letting go of the past now won't do you any good - it's far too late already, your melancholy is already flooding your lungs. enjoy a few last breaths of the present. the past is catching up quick.

[minghs]

muse demeanor and mannerisms.

bold is for what applies often. italics is for what applies sometimes/in specific circumstances.

eyes. avoids eye contact when nervous, maintains eye contact, avoids eye contact due to being neurodivergent, enjoys eye contact as a means to read and convey emotion, looks down when emotional, looks up when emotional, cries openly, wipes tears quickly, suppresses tears, wandering gaze when lost in thought, holds gaze while thinking, seeks out eye contact for reassurance, seeks out eye contact to gauge enthusiasm during conversations, eyes move constantly during conversation, expressive eyes, emotions only evident through eyes, uses eye contact to intimidate, looks up while thinking, looks down while thinking.

hands. clasps behind back,  rests in lap,  fidgets with clothes,  twiddles thumbs,  chews at nails,  pushes back cuticles,  draws patterns on table/counter surfaces,  animated gestures while speaking,  only gestures to emphasize,  utilizes sign language,  speaks only through sign,  callouses,  scars, smooth,  wrinkled,  worn,  soft,  delicate,  boney, slender,  thick,  veiny,  touches others while speaking,  reaches out while laughing,  reaches out to comfort others,  reaches out to seek comfort,  places face in hands when exasperated,  places face in hands when exhausted,  places palms over eyes to hide when overwhelmed,  rests chin in hands,  taps fingers when impatient,  taps fingers when nervous,  taps fingers while thinking,  scratches scalp,  strokes chin,  rubs back of head,  toys with objects around them,  runs fingers over surfaces while walking by

mouth. chews lip,  chews at inside of cheek,  licks lips,  bites tongue,  chews on straws,  resting frown,  resting smile,  neutral resting expression,  resting pout,  grinds teeth,  flexes jaw,  covers mouth when laughing,  covers mouth when shocked,  covers mouth when concerned,  hands to lips while thinking,  covers mouth when chewing,  chews with mouth closed,  chews with mouth open,  smirks,  grins,  subtle smiles,  wide smiles,  sad smiles,  intimidating smiles,  menacing grins,  openly smiles,  tries to suppress smiles,  bares teeth when angry,  lips quiver when emotional,  stutters,  speaks quickly,  speaks slowly,  good pronunciation,  poor pronunciation,  moderate pronunciation,  purses lips,  sucks in lips,  holds mouth open when shocked or confused.

legs. bounces leg when 'nervous',  draws knees to chest when sitting,  draws knees to chest as a means of comfort,  sits on knees,  sits with legs criss crossed,  sits with legs spread open in chairs,  crosses legs when sitting in chairs,  sits with one leg folded under the other,  places feet on furniture,  never places feet on furniture,  sits on counters,  sits on desks,  sits on tables,  sits on edge of seat,  sits hunched over with forearms on knees,  arches one knee up,  sits on the arm of chairs/couches,  feet on dashboard,  swings legs back and forth when sitting somewhere elevated,  wiggles toes when nervous,  wiggles toes as a general tick,  shuffles feet,  kicks foot into ground,  stomps feet,  loud footsteps,  quiet footsteps,  silent footsteps.

hair. runs fingers through hair,  tugs at hair,  picks at scalp,  chews on hair,  twists locks of hair while thinking or nervous,  smooths out locks of hair while thinking or nervous,  prefers hair out of face,  prefers long hair,  prefers short hair,  wears hair back,  keeps hair down,  smooths back hair,  plays with other’s hair while talking,  plays with own hair while talking,  strokes hair to 'comfort' others,  likes having hair stroked for their own comfort,  braids others’ hair while talking,  braids own hair while talking,  flips hair out of face,  pushes hair out of face,  leaves hair alone even when falling into face.

[minghs]

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.