#garciti

[sanguinie]

ツ

prompt / accepting

( sms : super sana ) hey guess what( sms : super sana ) and don't say what actually guess( sms : super sana ) nvm i can't wait so i'm gonna tell you anyway( sms : super sana ) i finally managed the impossible!! i road a longboard for a solid five minutes without falling off!!!!( sms : super sana ) maybe i'll become a professional what do you think 

[cir]

the love series, iv: when love is just (not enough).

It’s half past four, and there’s not much a handful of should’s between them. Should be asleep, should be dreaming, should be more than just two bodies sharing the same space as if not knowing their own.

She’s giving him a possibility and she should make it theirs, but this is never as simple and never quite as right.

He’s got her fingers tangled up in her hair, and she’s got her head pressed up against his chest. Any closer, and he thinks she’ll finally hear the muted sound caught between them, the buzz in the air they are both pretending not to hear. It’s always Sana that speaks first, and it’s a testimony to her courage, to everything he lacks when it comes to her.

“...Juwon.”

It’s easier to pretend to be asleep, much simpler to act like they are not the same. And yet it’s much more difficult to bring himself to be so selfish when it comes to her, simply because she is her, and no one else.

He shifts his head down and pulls away his chest to face her, eyes meeting. His only defense is the grin that comes, face of someone with all the ease she does not allow him in this moment; without the fear she manages to instill into him.

It’s his fault not being in slumber, and he only knows it when she truly looks at him, with those eyes of hers. “Look at me...” It’s in this moment that he wishes the room to be a little darker, for less light to bleed in from the windows. He wonders if this would be any easier if she was not so radiant to him -- if she was any dimmer -- if the universe would allow such a thing.

He looks at her with the same eyes she gives him, and he realizes again: he will never love her anymore than in this moment in time. 

“You look beautiful.”

She shifts and the single stream of light pouring in allows him to see the slightest red hue on her right cheek. “That’s... not what I meant, you know that.”

And as if he knows what she will say after, he leans in, arms pulling her back in. He turns his head just a bit to hide it in the crook of her neck, where he keeps himself as close as possible he can to her. Above all else, he makes sure not to respond, not to answer, and continue to ignore the buzz of the obvious.

“Juwon... I want this to not be so complicated.” He shuts his eyes closed, and only holds her with more ferventness. “And it doesn’t have to be, that’s the thing. I’m good for you, and you’re good for me, and... and maybe, this could work. Maybe it can be enough, if... if you are willing.” There’s the slightest tremble in her voice and he is thankful for her gallantry, yet spiteful of just the same. “I just want to know...if this could be enough to last.”

He comes out from hiding, and lets the light hit him instead. His eyes are sure when they meet hers this time around -- more sure of this than any other aspect of the theory of them. His hands come to hold both sides of her face, and he gives a single shake of his own head.

“I love you,” The buzz takes over, and it melds with his voice. “...but it’s not enough to last.”

Love does not last / but it is different / from the passions that do not last. / Love lasts / by not lasting. -- Jack Gilbert @garciti

[cespires]

LOVES YOU TO THE MOON AND BACK.

/ loves you more bc i went to the moon and back... twice.

[venateus]

continuation from here for @garciti There’s a part of him that knows there should be an order to the world, one where he isn’t the screw up that he is and one where he gets things right. when he sat across the table from her, he can’t help but frown and confess to everything he’s been feeling. it’s as though there’s no one else to tell these to, not even his best pals. they had better things to do than to worry about his stupid emotions. He wanted to say more, but when he saw the look in her eyes, his word drown in his throat. he can’t say more. not when they take out the light in her eyes. he laughed then, shrugging and rubbing the back of his head in a sheepish way to try to lighten the mood. except it made it worse, and all he did was sigh and apologize. “I’ll just talk to you some other time, yeah?” he’s on his feet the next minute, rummaging through his pocket to toss the gil on the table. He turns to look at her, a smile on his face, before he waves and tells her a soft ‘see ya.’ He figures it’s enough for now. he figures that all he needs is some time to think and sort out what the hell is going through his head, or maybe more time to push it aside and forget about it altogether. except that isn’t how sana works, and sana is a component in the equation that he can’t control. “Sana?” he doesn’t pick up what she says in the beginning, taking out his headphones as he cranes his neck down to hear her. through the loudness of everything around them, he narrows in and hears her rushed, apologetic words. He wants to say he isn’t ready to hear this, but the way she confesses everything so sincerely all of a sudden makes him feel bad for making her think she wasn’t a good friend. he bites his lip, looking down at her as if she was some fragile thing he could easily break in his hands. he keeps his hands to his side, clenching his fist at how dumb he’s been. he doesn’t know what to think when she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in as though she was an anchor to hold him on the shore. His hands unclench, headphones hitting the ground, as he awkwardly wraps his arms and pats her back. “You’re not a bad friend, you know.” He fumbles around with his headphones, stuffing them into his pocket. “Uh, you’re actually a really good one.” He smiles, the tilt of his lips crooked in every sense. He tightens his hold around her a little more. “I’ve just got a lot in my head.” there were daemons to fight, people to defeat, and people he wanted to keep safe no matter what. and she was one of those people. “I just need to get stronger, but I just feel so incapable of doing that. I didn’t mean to push all of my…insecurities on you. I’m sorry.” He lets go of her, keeping his hands on her shoulders, as he grins down at her. “But hey, you know, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Even though I’m like this, I’ve made it this far right? That’s gotta count for something.”

[citry]

@garciti:

(kkt) smart guy, hey! (kkt) remember at the secret santa gift exchange last year (kkt) you gave me a ‘wonwoo will do one thing for sana’ coupon? (kkt) it was written with a waxy red crayon you found on the floor? (kkt) i have some physics homework, and i need help. (kkt) i’m cashing in my coupon. ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

[SMS: cute girl from class] I don’t recall anything of the such 🤔

[estrnged]

✆,$

text meme: still accepting

✆ for a MORNING text. 

( kkt: insana ) its like four in the morning, yeah? i havent slept for two days i think( kkt ) i see god and he is bathed i n neon lightsssss( kkt ) eating a donut. looks jelly filled. ( kkt ) think i can fight him and win? 

$ for an ACCIDENTAL text.

( kkt: insana ) i told you before i dont have the money so fuck off i will call you when i do, dick sniffer( kkt ) fuck ( kkt ) FUCK sana holy shit im an idiot( kkt ) ignore that i pressed the wrong shit

[ghvstlly]

@garciti liked for a starter.

while leah once considered picking up skateboarding, the idea was quickly shut down by her (ahem, controlling) parents. thus, she had to settle with watching her younger cousin scrape his knees as he fell from his skateboard countless times. the 8-year-old leah wanted to experience that too, but alas, even until now, leah has never had one scrape on her knee.

always the impeccably untarnished little girl, huh?

speaking of which, that reckless cousin of hers is graduating from university in a couple of days. like leah, he was been sent to seoul to study. unlike leah, he’s now somewhat of a pro-skateboarder. that would make for a great story, a skateboarding future lawyer. it has a nice ring to it.

leah likes this cousin. he’s a good dude, so she wants to do something nice for him. she’s not going to get him a silly bouquet of flowers, no––she’s going to be special and considerate by giving him a new skateboard. that stingy little brat said he should save up and he keeps using that ugly and rundown skateboard he has since his high school days.

before she enters the shop, she walks with confidence. however, once she opens the door, she quickly becomes a shrinking flower. this is a foreign world for her, she doesn’t understand which skateboard to get. surely she can’t just get one that she thinks looks cool. it’s the same as getting a shitty laptop just because you like the colour!

so she walks up to one of the girls working there, “excuse me. can you help me pick out a skateboard?”

[warsk]

madrugada: the moment at dawn when the night greets the day.

They speak in momentary glances and skinny touches. Before she allows herself to be taken by her own exhaustion, she looks at him across the bed and between her two blinks, her eyes speak. 

(Don’t go yet.)

(This time I don’t want to wake up gazing upon the emptiness of your side. Don’t leave yet, I am still trying to make sense of the last time: trying to catch my breath from the yesterdays.) 

(Don’t leave yet, until we map out together, your journey back.)

He is not guided by sleep as easily, eyelids heavy but his mind still wide awake. His thoughts lull around all the difference spaces they could have met instead of this one: maybe a year or two earlier, when they were both that much younger and knew no better than what nips at the heart and it’s associated strings.

His fingers make their way from her waist up her side. He’s long gone from fighting the idea that she is something not allowed, something that he shouldn’t have began. He realizes this when she is already two feet into the door wide open, with her perfect smile and paint smudged shirts. Perhaps had she not walked in that way, he would’ve kept on, feet still running as they always knew to do.

His thumb brushes under her eyes, then over her cheeks. It even traces along her lower lip, once, then another time. And during it all, his eyes take in all that she is, as if he does not want to forget, when the sun sneaks up into the horizon and the day begins again -- until the bed is half empty again and their relationship only as half full, and much more wholly complicated. His fingers catch in a few locks of her hair that he tucks behind her ear, only able to watch as she seemed to mumble something incoherent, following to draw closer.

And here is another moment he shouldn’t, but he does: he holds his chest open until she fills the space, his lips pressing onto her scalp until she subsides her slumber-talk, as if cooed by the act.

“Tell me you’ll forgive me.” The fading stars just outside the window begin to grow loud with his words, but the sun is approach too quick for their requests to matter. He presses his lips into her hair again, planting a couple of more kisses onto her head before just holding her steady and close. 

As the sun begins to peak into the room, he closes his eyes to let it in, emptying himself of the night until becoming morning himself. 

“Tell me you’ll forgive me for not knowing the way to you.”

[tsdrats]

Continued w/ @garciti )

Haneul’s got a good relationship with the atmosphere today.

The snow too. It’s tickling his nose and most of the things that tickle irritate. Because they remind him of things that are fleeting and could escape his grasp. Because he thinks his life is a little bit too much like a tickle in the movement of the world. Then he remembers that everyone is a bit like that and it’s okay. So he lets the flurries push against his cheeks and his nose, tries mushing his phone close enough to his face to get an eye’s view.

Even though they’re in winter, Haneul often thinks of other months, and the possibilities they include. He’s often dreaming of other things and what he will be or do when they come. Part of him had been wishing for summer so much that he forgot it was winter, but he doesn’t tell Sana that. Not with all the indications surrounding them, all the white and the cold. 

“ - And then it’s going to be just February, and just March, just April and may and look at that, summer.” No, he just smiles and shrugs his shoulders, moving to catch images of the flurries and her figure between them. He can make the concerning things that come out his lips seem silly and as long as people are smiling along, he can believe them to be silly.

“If you don’t prepare for your summer, you’ll lose it when it arrives.” He’s taking pictures of the drawings in the ground now, some with her back, some with just her hand, watching as she becomes the same as him. a tickle in the blur of the camera.

“Why don’t you, make the face out of snow, instead of drawing it, i wanna see a snow-me.” He voices is thoughts before considering her own. He thinks about how that might be a little rude and pauses for a moment to chastise himself and respond properly. “I intern at the station I can’t possibly take on another job. PD would have my ass if I was late again.” He doesn’t have anything so he tries to wipe at the pink, and smear it atop her hand.

”Then you’d lose a friend and no snacks. A lose-lose.”

[citry]

@garciti:

(kkt) you can’t prove that i’m the one that graffitied the south entrance (kkt) but just for safe measure, don’t mention it to anyone or else you’ll get the guns (kkt) these guns. ʕง•ᴥ•ʔง (kkt) ㅋ ㅋ ㅋ ㅋ ㅋ but seriously. i can blackmail you. (kkt) btw ‘ ㅋ ㅋ ‘ is being used right? help me, wonwoo ㅠㅠ 

[SMS: cute girl from class] I didn’t even know... [SMS] but now I know... [SMS] 😏

[cespires]

“ never feel guilty for starting again. ”

not accepting.

of all the artists she’s met and seen, sana was one of her favorites. the entirety of her being was so ethereal, and somewhere between her unbeating heart and sana’s obviously beating one, she came to the conclusion that it wasn’t the wisdom that was portrayed in someone’s eyes that made them seem surreal. rather, it was the completeness that they made others feel. despite their incompleteness, they had made people feel things that many would never experience in a lifetime. and jieun was glad that she had found someone who seemed so completely incomplete. because she realized that in this world, she was not alone. she hadn’t been. not in a long time. “You know, the whole idea of wanting to start over and everything...” Jieun sighed, slumping on the stool as she watched sana dance as she walked. “I feel almost guilty for it. Like I shouldn’t even be given the opportunity to get to start over.” Her dancing slowed before pausing completely. it was almost as though she’d been watching a movie and all of a sudden, someone had pressed the pause button. If jieun had twice the talent as hers, she’d been able to capture the moment with a paintbrush. “Did I say something weird?” She almost regretted breaking the silence as sana moved to come closer. “What’s the look for?”“Never feel guilty for starting again.” sana had a serious face on, almost as though jieun had ruptured something in her. it was strange because in the moment where she could hear her beating heart drumming against her own paused heart, it felt as though something started in her. “It means you’re alive.”

[sanguinie]

SANGUINIE / HWITELIE / RUDIMENTARI ‘S 2018 BIG THANK YOU POST

do people still do these? i don’t know. i’m doing it anyway!! fight me!! anyway, i really wanted to make one because this is the first time i’ve had a muse last more than a month (ok maybe two.. tops) and the desire to continue on writing for almost an entire year now... crazy. 90% of that reason is my current dash for sure! i’m surrounded by not only amazing writers but also amazing, friendly people that i’m very happy i get to interact with every day. even if we don’t interact, i’m still reading your work and i still can’t believe the type of writers i’m mutuals with ksdfjskldf i’m not worthy... anywho! going into 2019 i hope everyone has an amazing year!! let’s all go into 2019 optimistic!! hope we can all continue writing together hehe

a special shoutout to @consilian who i messaged on a whim when i first started this blog. i just wanted someone i knew when i returned to krp but also someone i knew was nice. that being said, i wasn’t really sure what the outcome would be, but now i have a friend i couldn’t imagine not having in my life!! you help me get through a lot whether you know it or not. can’t wait to continue annoying your muses with my obnoxious idiots and can’t wait to continue filling your ims with the stupid shit that comes to mind 24/7 xoxoxxoo

as for everyone else, whether we’ve interacted a ton or not, i’m really glad we are mutuals and i hope we can all write together come next year >:) if not, i’m really looking forward to continuing to read all your posts heh (also i’m not tagging blogs i think might be dead?? bc i think that’s weird sdkjfksldfm but i appreciate u too if u see this) for my new followers i can’t wait to interact asap!!

@illblooded @eterneli @0400hrs @actwo @garciti @elixichor @asteraeis @casualkillers @aceocian @ailesbrisees @rigorxmyn @inhyelation @lostambition @pullstrings @warsk @furtivesouls

tldr; thank u so much for following i’m really glad i can write without getting anxious 24/7 and that u guys appreciate my idiots

(also icons by some ppl on tumblr idk where i saved them rip)

[warsk]

@garciti: 

Some where between the interval between the second it takes her to blink Juwon appears within that short frame of time. As always, he arrives accompanied by a sudden draft of wind that stirs up any loose papers in the studio into the air. The other students look towards the windows, confused by sudden change. Not a single one of them notice Juwon’s sudden appearance (except for Sana who has grown accustomed to his way of appearing.)

“Sorry I was late. I can’t conceptualize time.”

Sana moves around him. The only form of acknowledgement of his presence that she gives is the fleeting glance that is thrown in his direction as she wipes her cheek, unknowingly smearing a streak of white gesso paint across her cheek and then her eyes are back to the blank canvas just as quickly and she ignores the papers ━ or rather, her countless sketches and attempts to capture his likeness and failed that continue to fall around them.

She doesn’t need to look at the clock to know that it’s too late. She can tell by the way the light falls on his face and the shadows it wasn’t meant to happen today. “It’s alright…” Sana says only half meaning it while checking over the canvas that’s taller than she is for any bumps in its surface and picking out any stray paintbrush hairs before the primed surface dries completely. Once satisfied she drops the paint brush into a cup of water at her feet to rinse later.  

Sana reaches up to untie her hair, swallowing her disappointment with the turn of today. Her hair falls from the messy bun, eyes remaining downcast as she rakes through her hair with her fingers. Finally, she looks at him, tilting her head as she does so. “Juwon?” She says his name like a question that’s on the tip of her tongue that’s been waiting to be asked for awhile now.

“Where do you go when you go ━ what are you running from?”

His feet never remain steady, even when at a stand still. The soles of his feet never seem to take solace in touching the ground, lifting as if to wish the furthest distance possible from anything that will keep them grounded. 

(When he exists here, in this room, surrounded by empty and filled canvases, it’s not the ground keeping him at bay.)

“It’s never alright. I thought we had passed the point in our relationship where common courtesy and mannerisms aren’t the basis for our conversation.” His feet take step towards Sana, one at a time; steadily, surely.

(It’s her.)

He watches her like he does with nothing else: preciously. Meaningfully. Like he wants this to mean something; like he wants her to mean something. When their eyes meet, his gaze holds her -- and he begins the grand debate. Of whether his gaze really holds her, or if she’s keeping him, too fixed, and immovable.

“Hm.” His feet are ready to pace at her question, familiar with aversion more than what she is seeking from him. “Am I supposed to answer with a lie, or a white lie?” He picks up his feet to close the distance, the white streak across her cheek the only excuse. “You’re asking questions again, I thought we got past this the other weekend.” His thumb swipes over at the paint, while his eyes still keep steadfast on hers.

“Let’s not ask questions, Sana.”