#disthant

[exhibitsilk-blog]

   finding peace of mind is ridiculously in vain, these days. these years, when you live like this. she’s reminded of it in the ambiguous and brusque sidewalks of a main street. here she is, an overwhelming presence, violent and tender, pressing her back on the cement and pulling out her phone. her eyes don’t leave him on the opposite side of the street for a good second or two, then taps on his contact name, bringing the screen to her ear. pick up pick up pick up. // @disthant

[pijichu]

jouska 🔪

OBSCURE FEELINGS DRABBLES : accepting !» @disthant

jouska: a hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head.

the first time he calls unexpectedly.  maybe it’d been accidental— she’d only heard silence at first, interspersed with rustling sounds.  and then his voice.  oh, it’s you. oh, it’s you, she mimics.  1 am and she’s sitting on her bed with wet hair, shirt drooping past her shoulder, sleep-heavy eyes now focused on the window.  at 1am, she wonders where he’s gone.  why he’s still on the phone with her.  whatcha up to, she says instead. he makes a sound that sounds like a laugh, says something that gets lost in the distance.  she doesn’t mind.  

the second time he calls her because he’s bored, and you’re like.  not.  boring, sort of.  the breeze kisses her fingertips when she pushes the door open. thanks, i guess, she tells him dryly.  there’s an amused smile on her lips (i can practically see it, he slurs.  kind of slurs.  maybe she’s imagining it.).  1am again, same view, same questions.

the third time:

are you drunk?

what? no.

you smell drunk.

you can’t smell over the phone, dumbass.

she loses track after that.

(her: why?

him: why what?

her: you know what.

him: ██████   )

[trouvxilles-blog]

kiss.

(v.) touch with the lips as a sign of love  sexual desire, reverence, or greeting.

( 3 / ? )

too like the lightning, which doth cease to be ere one can say “it lightens.” sweet, good night. this bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath, may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet (romeo & juliet, act ii, scene ii)

1. safe and sound - tonight alive

and it's all because of you, and I don't know what to do. i'm falling in, i think i'm falling in love with you.

2. stars falling down - kina grannis

so, when i open my eyes, i saw it, too. stars falling down, and i fell for you.

3. all about us - he is we feat. owl city

take my hand, i'll teach you to dance. i'll spin you around, won't let you fall down.

4. paperweight - joshua radin & schuyler fisk

happy to lay here, just happy to be here. i’m happy to know you. play me a song. you’re newest one. please leave your taste on my tongue.

5. kiss me slowly - parachute

hold my breath as you’re moving in, taste your lips, and feel your skin.

@disthant​

[antipsychx-blog]

keep.

(v.) continue or cause to continue in a specified condition, position, course, etc. see also: (v.) stay - remain in the same place.

( 4 / ? )

o, swear not by the moon, th’ inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circle orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable. ( romeo & juliet, act ii, scene ii )

1. stay - sara bareilles

i don’t care for sunlight. that only means it’s over, and i’m in no mood for that. stay tonight. don’t come morning, don’t come light.

2. my heart - paramore

i am finding out that maybe i was wrong, that i’ve fallen down, and i can’t do this alone. stay with me. this is what i need, please?

3. only love - pvris

before you came around i was lost and out of place. you’re the only love i found, and i’m hoping that you’ll stay. please stay.

4. stay - mayday parade

i’m not strong enough for the both of us. what was i supposed to do? you know i love you.

5. find a way - safetysuit

hold on. what’s the rush, what’s the rush? we’re not done, are we? ‘cause i don’t need to change this atmosphere we made if you can stay one more hour. can you stay one more hour?

[speidey-blog1]

@disthant in response to ....

» ʀɪɢʜᴛ. ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ other ways to solve a pest problem but his mind went straight to execution. he blames all the violent, gory video games he’s been indulging in lately. maybe he should convert to softer, friendlier games. like hello kitty adventures. 

... nah. 

anyway, he cups his hands around the spider, forcing it to crawl into his palms before closing the gap where it can escape. “ got it. “ he lowers himself to the ground, liberating the spider from its short imprisonment. “i think... i earned a free meal for saving your life!”

[byeolsosa]

@disthant:

“your loss, dude.”

al dente’s the essence of your mother’s home recipe for chicken noodle soup.

wrong. kind of. but he should say it like that anyway. “look it up.”

he gasps a little too exaggeratedly, hand finding its way grasping at his chest and wrinkling his shirt slightly. it was all unintended, though. he really was shocked at his straightforward response. he pouts and usually people tell him it’s unbecoming of a man. whispering in his ear was always his mom, “no one can dictate what you can and can’t feel.” so it didn’t bother him whenever he heard the talks. 

“it is... my loss.” he sighs first, taking a moment, and just looking at the box of pasta as if that’s going to help him figure it out. “alright, i’ll look it up. can you watch out for this then? just in case it boils over. i’ll be back really fast.” he takes little steps back, feet hesitant to actually move before the other has given him the green light.

[luxinexitium]

– salva veritate »

– @disthant »

midnight feels closer to four in the afternoon than two hours to twilight. there’s a laziness looming in the cool air, waltzing over shoulders and in the spaces between fingers. it’s all too easy to lose track of time atop a tower of steel and screws, dressed in the accoutrements of wandering ivy and pale wildflowers. glassy eyes count the craters on the moon’s surface, from one to ten to thirty-five, only to start over when a band of rabbits kicks up a cloud of dust. he doesn’t mind so much; in fact, he finds it quite amusing. those tiny creatures will always lead a parade across the moon somewhere between the counts of craters forty-one and forty-six. predictable, but a surprise nonetheless. a comfortable reliability.

the vestiges of winter caress his cheeks and tousle his hair, inducing a haze of calm with the buzz of city life but white noise in the background. the bellows of rubber on concrete and all the blips of the modern world are almost a lullaby in the outskirts of seoul, nothing more than echoes of the future. the only disturbances now are the hinges of the carriage he’s sat in, rusted metal squealing in protest when he moves to rest his head atop his backpack. the creaking thrums through the whole ferris wheel, down to the soil beneath the pavement, but the complaints fade just as quickly as they had risen. silence overtakes the park once more, broken occasionally only by the chirping of insects and the rhythm of his own exhales. he could live here forever, he thinks, catching between his teeth the already blunt nail of an index finger. quiet, forgotten, long since abandoned. he seems to fit in here just right, between the plastic grins of the carousel horses and the stale popcorn now cultivating mould. forever, he thinks.

only when he tastes iron at the tip of his finger does he stop chewing at the nail, roped into a brief silence to watch as red seeps from the break in skin. the blood is quick to thicken, perched atop his forefinger like the murky sphere in the fortuneteller’s tent by the merchandise kiosk. all he can see here, though, is his past. no amount of tokens or jewels could buy him a glance into the future. (how could they when he has none?) listening to the faraway purr of urban life, he counts his exhales and watches the bubble of scarlet with rapt attention, as if patience might be worth more than the treasures of every nation combined. 

(it isn’t.)

[vlinderknife-blog]

@disthant // it’s late at night when kiel shows up at the door. bandit howls in response at a face which she does recognize, but knows daniel has mixed feelings about. the howl turns into a growl somewhere in between the door being opened and the dog being hushed. “you again?” whether it’s a joke or not, he’s not sure himself. kiel has a way of getting on his nerves, although he doesn’t show it. he hopes the feeling is mutual. yet here they are, spending more time than necessary together. willingly. and daniel isn’t trying to close the door either, considering he’s standing there ready to light up a cigarette and head outside. “can’t sleep? me neither.” there’a a slight delay to his next statement because he reaches inside to grab his trusty old leather jacket. “let’s go.”

it takes him no more than a swift movement to reveal his beloved ducati from the garage, next to his car. even if the other was speaking, he wouldn’t be able to hear it. instead he shoves a helmet into kiel’s hands while he grabs the motorcycle, clearly deliberately forgetting his own helmet. the engine roars from beneath him, and he hops on, soon also gesturing (forcibly pushing) kiel into the seat behind him. they’re off the second he presses the gas pedal and the exhaustion pipes are obnoxiously loud, probably waking up half of the neighborhood. it’s a miracle he still hasn’t been kicked out. there’s obviously not been enough excitement in kiel’s life since he has time to run that mouth on end. always about cancer, dying and whatnot. trying to snatch every cigarette daniel places between his lips.

five minutes later, the ducati picks up enough speed to zigzag between the cars on the gyeongbu highway, completely ignoring the never-ending traffic jams. he thinks he can near kiel talk (scream) at the back, but he both chooses to not even try to listen and won’t be able to hear anything either way. it’s just a quick spin around the area. anything more at this speed and he’ll be risking getting caught by the police. he’d rather keep his license, even if he likes potentially scaring the shit out of a boy with too much to say. maybe there’s less to say now, as they come to an abrupt stop. it’s enough to slung him forward in his seat, but not throw him off. they’re in itaewon now, not back home in sincheon. daniel neatly parks the vehicle next to his tattoo shop and finally looks back to see what damage he’s done to the person behind him. “you ‘kay?” it’s halfhearted, albeit an attempt. he puts out the cigarette that’s become nothing but a stump of filter and unlocks the door.

the lights flicker into a yellowing scene around the shop, and he enters like it’s any old monday morning. “how about we try getting you a sketch? that’s gotta be enough to keep you occupied.” or not.