#gunuzi

[ehontee]

yoda gives some good points.

Yeah, I’m a nerd, I have tendencies to get super emotionally attached to anything fictional that I deem worthy to be attached to. Or sometimes it like gets totally out of my control, it happens, geek for science and technology and a total sucker for games and you know anything that’d give the impression that I like wearing sweaters, buttoning my shirt up to the last button, I can’t make any friends outside of awkward genius circles which is so high school or that I wear glasses–I do but whatever, not the point, I barely wear them–and totally act like Star Wars is the thing. But I hate stereotypes, and I will kindly ask you, seeing as I’m totally not Star Wars trash and never intend to be, God save me from this glue that is these movies to the on going community where I have been for years now, what does this mean? 

[psykonic]

"your dad sure is a commodity, huh?"

@gunuzi

There he was, sitting on the hood of his parked car and quietly minding his own business while he watched the spread of hollering racers and enthusiasts skirting either of the sidewalk anticipate the drag race that is about to happen between two adrenaline junkies. 

Until a voice,

a deep one that was nearby and recognizable enough amidst the noise came too close enough for him to lucidly hear. Out of all the sons present here not shackled by their morals and responsibilities, to him, it was certain that his father is the most valuable in the socio-economic sense hence he must be the one that this unfamiliar voice is speaking to. Hanbin’s head slowly turned to the side where the nosiness was coming from, and the stranger’s thirst for a confirmation was met by a disinterested stare. 

“What do you want?” 

He jumped over to that particular question, purposely disregarding if ever this person has a name or alias that he goes by. “And if he’s not.. ” He lowly trailed off without consideration, eyes wandering back to the event going on, and leaving the subject open as a question or a disclosure to the other.

[souwon]

"yah... sojung-ah. what did i say about platforms, heels, or any shoes that has thick soles...?"

“Oh.. Well,” Her lips formed a small ‘o’ while quickly averting her clueless stare from the male’s concealed chagrin. Obviously, it slipped her mind earlier while getting ready that she must avoid wearing leveled shoes when meeting up with him. But as someone who is keen on the details of her outfit, she ended up wearing her white platform strappy sandals that increased her height by about an inch only and most specifically, it was the pair that looked best with her denim A-line skirt. So after a brief flashback of that old deal with him, the corners of Sowon’s lips twisted up in a suppressed grin.

“……You think they’re cute?” The female teased, her shoulders now slightly shaking from her impish snickers.

[resfebr]

"what did you say the doofus did again?"

she knows exactly who he’s referring to, opting not to withdraw from where she was lurched across her desk, fingers grasping a medium sized paint brush in final touch of color. she’d been working on this painting for days, her finest work so far, a representation of keukenhof park from netherlands, painted only in warm colors for it felt closer to her heart … and that’s the closest it would stay for a while, until she’d figure out an amiable way to pursue her biggest dream. a flick of wrist details a smokey line trailing behind the clouds in means of realism, tip of her tongue poked out in concentration. ah.. it still needed a lot of fix, but pride still swelled in her chest each time she looked at it.

her chair spins after she takes a break, finally facing him in thought, gestured with tip of her finger lifted to her lips. was she to allow her mood to be ruined by mentioning him, or... oh, it means trouble, right? hah. her fingers are inked with a splash of colors, so she only uses her knuckles to brush a strand from her eyes from having stood so abruptly, ready to act the infamous scene out. “during our first meeting? he did this--..” she adopts a stoic posture, chest popping forward with pride, the kind one would get from obtaining something with as less effort as possible; her expression clears until it’s blank aside from her eyes trailing back and forth across a mannequin, growing gradually larger with interest. any potential of saying anything intelligible flies out the window as soon as her lips part, ironizes the speech that was delivered to her not long ago in a faked deep voice.

“don’t you look a little too old for me?”