#whitelai

[clementide-archived]

@whitelai​

( kkt // ㅁㅊㄴ ) 몰라 나 바빠 ( kkt // ㅁㅊㄴ ) 홍대는 왜

[insolercia]

someday they’ll go down together; they’ll bury them side by side; to few it’ll be grief — to the law a relief — but it’s death for bonnie and clyde. @whitelai​

[pijichu]

JULY.

[ ... ] 

she’s got a knack for getting herself in trouble.  it rarely escalates to anything serious (deliberate emphasis on ‘rarely’), but the fact of the matter is that she’s always been too talkative for her own good.  so when a flippant comment has some boy looking at her like she’s got some screws loose, it takes her a moment to catch his response.  in greens?-- is he serious? rational jisoo wants to tell him that she’d only meant it as an offhanded attempt at making conversation; then again, when does she ever listen to rational jisoo? lips pursed-- a feeble attempt to restrain her amusement-- she eyes him again, pretends to deliberate before speaking up.

“how much do people usually pay you?”

[clementide-archived]

@whitelai from here:

“good. don't.” she wrinkles her nose out of habit. there are times when she feels a little too childish. feels like lai has shaved a couple years off her conscious (and height), and is standing loud and proud, just to prove it. she frowns. this time, out of spite.

“i don't love you that much yet, either. but you're bleeding all over the goddamn floor.”

in some ways, it's true. he's got bloodstained pants, bloodstained skin, bloodstained goddamn everything, and jieun can't find anyone else to blame but lai himself. she meets his gaze head on, eyes set in scrutinizing slivers. mouth twisted in that way that proclaims her inner turmoil over her sentiments towards the situation as a whole. towards lai in general. what a fucking pain in the ass, she thinks. and yet,

“c'mon, loser.” fingers curl around his wrist. too tender to be labeled as anything but outright sympathy for the kid. for now, anyway. she sighs, tightens her grip, and tugs him just like that - all the way down the street.

“let's go home and fix you up.”

[clementide-archived]

@whitelai​ (from meme i’m too lazy to find)

midday traffic spills all around her. everything is too loud and the air is too brisk, biting at her cheeks as she brushes through a quick goodbye. what the hell was his name again? she hopes the sweet smile will make up for her lackluster attention.

all she can really see is the red in his eyes. the purposeful calm of his stride. the tip of her tongue as it swipes along dry lips. she's not nervous, no.

just at a complete loss of words is all.

silence runs uncomfortable and prolonged. like static. like the lull in her train of thought when she starts to wonder why a defensive excuse was the first to slip by her crooked smile. “why're you getting so worked up?” a sour twist to her expression before, “what’s up your ass?”

there’s a dry huff of laughter as she combs her fingers through her hair. the exasperated flush of her cheeks compliments the weather perfectly, and she flashes a sarcastic grin to match. “jealousy isn’t really your style.”

[existheory-blog]

❝ i don’t have to answer that. ❞

siken sentence starters / closed.

   He’s come to terms with the fact that he’ll die from his eyes one of these days.

   The eyes that swallow all light and don’t expel it back, the eyes that flicker, that close slowly on him or sometimes don’t at all. The same eyes that are witnessing a micro roberry and aren’t as agitated as they should be. Just tired.

   Being a witness doesn’t feel that good, he thinks, leaning back into a wall to catch a breath from the overflowing sidewalk. Nor does it feel bad, though. It won’t scare his sleep away tonight. He doesn’t learn his lesson; staring that long and hard at the guy with that poor (now literally) man’s wallet wasn’t going to earn him anything more than a stare back. Or glare, but glares are meant to intimidate, and this just makes him prolong the eye contact longer.

   He’d be smart to rewatch his entire stunt playing on the surface of Moonsik’s eyes, an unspoken, hi, yeah, I saw it.

   You… “…again.”

   He learnt one thing; mischief has black hair and an unnerving height.

   “Is this what you do 24/7?”

   I don’t have to answer that.

   (He almost laughs).

[pijichu]

for @whitelai

it begins with a chase, and ends with a capture. (alternatively, recapture.) (a forgotten memory.)

four am finds her in the streets with a scarf snug at her throat, remnants of stage makeup coloring her cheeks.  the street is littered with stray pedestrians heading home after a night out. they pass by without sparing her a second glance, and she does the same.  oddly enough, it’s comforting.  it feels good to be invisible; feels good to be alone. after a while she gets lost in her thoughts, arms tucked comfortably at her sides, eyes distracted, the moon gazing down from afar.

it’s a streak of white that gets her attention when it darts between her legs, its tail sweeping furiously in the air.  instinct prompts her to follow, clumsily falling in pursuit. for a moment it’s just her and the kitten as they wind around the cobbled path, their shadows tracing one another beneath the yellowy street lamps.  but it’s not long before she stumbles face-first into something- no, someone.

her feet manage to steady themselves, catching her breath before she whips her head furiously round to regain sight of her target.  it’s nowhere to be seen but the figure before her hasn’t moved.  they haven’t said a word, either, so she takes a step back and opens her mouth to apologize.

and then blinks.

“you’re-” both foreign and familiar. 

“...yihyun?”

[soeuvre-blog]

starter for @whitelai !

      it’s not uncommon for writers to seek inspiration from sources outside their comfort zone. i mean     if for every book they were to look in the same places, all the stories would be the same in some way. sora’s usual genre is romance with a supernatural or science fiction edge to it, and she consistently aims to create her characters with complexities and quirks. in order to make them as realistic and relatable as possible, they need to have flaws     some more than others. even in romance, there are bad people who do questionable things, and the main character in her upcoming book is one of those people. sora, being the person she is and coming from the background she does, isn’t very knowledgeable about what it’s like being deemed a threat to society and living the life of crime, so to speak. yes, she sees plenty of examples on television, but television isn’t always reliable in how realistic it is.

     perhaps her commitment to the new book is over the top, considering what she’s about to do could be... dangerous. she’s referring to it as “field research” to those who ask in an attempt to make it sound ordinary, but what she’s about to do is anything other than ordinary.

     as provided by close friends, there are a group of boys that are constantly spotted in sinrim dong, and although they’ve never been caught doing anything illegal, many people have their suspicions. they’ve practically become infamous for looming around the area, giving the impression that they’re up to no good. there’s been word of them hanging around seoul as well, although sora has never witnessed this group for herself. tonight, however, she’ll take it upon herself to seek them out at their supposed usual spot in sinrim dong. she’s certain that they won’t be hard to notice.

       even her image is drastically different for the temporary role she’ll be playing as someone who wants to be involved in whatever mayhem it is these boys cause in secret. since she’ll need to blend in a bit more, she appears dressed in blank skinny jeans, a white v-neck and a plain-looking black leather jacket over it in hopes to give her look some edge. she had to borrow that item from a friend. the doc marten boots she already owned, but they’d been lost in her closet for the longest time. she has even gone as far as asking around to find out some of their names and what they look like prior to this, to make her search a bit easier.

     she’d only been leisurely walking the street for, maybe, twenty-five minutes by the time she spots him. it must be one of them, because he fits the exact description someone had given her. lai, she believes they said his name is. it’s ten o’clock at night in one of the sketchiest areas of south korea, and she’s by herself, ready to approach a guy she’s heard nothing positive about. this is not one of your intelligent days, sora. well, she didn’t put in all this effort to back out now. keep it natural. keep it natural. it repeats as a mantra in her head as she approaches him. 

    ❛ it’s lai, right? ❜