chanhans-blog

[chanhans-blog]

Something about the bottle of liquor that was half full and the empty cigarette pack gave his mind a paradisiacal effect, a little innocence and a bit of happiness; something that was unachievable when he was sober. It was the smoke that swirled out of his mouth that liberated him; packs upon packs of the menthol flavored cigarettes could be found in his disheveled apartment room. There was something about the ruffled sheets under his limbs that kept him together, kept him from losing all sight of the world. Though it may be seldom, sometimes a pill, maybe two, three, or four; he stopped counting sometime ago; would be convenient when he found his bones in an ache.

He found a release in being able to stumble into a club, half drunk, lethargic, and wearing a shirt that was a day old, still smelling of a hangover that happened earlier that morning. But I guess that wouldn't matter when he found another man to seep his hips into, shirt ending up thrown somewhere across the other man's room later in the night.

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He flips to the last page on a whim, just to check if it’s a sad ending, because he doesn’t like sad endings. “My name is Jongin. I’m the writer who lives next door. See you tomorrow, hyung. Don’t forget!” (anterograde tomorrow)

[chanhans-blog]

my livejournal

i've posted one fully finished fic, and i'm working on a model!au that's soon to be posted as well. a majority of them (if not all) will be exo related ;u; ~

[chanhans-blog]

Allégro, at 168 bpm

‘There’s a moment, when you finish a dance, before the audience applauds, where your heart sits in your throat from a combination of triumph, exhaustion, fear, and anticipation. It feels like nothing and like an eternity at the same time. Then, the audience bursts into raucous applause, and heart hammering against your ribs, you walk out and bow, and it’s over.’

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That moment of vulnerability you feel once you get the stinging sensation of salty liquid welling up inside of your waterline, just before your cheeks become wet and soft whimpers of despair leave your mouth.

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Awake so late, your eyes begin to sting, you can hear the birds chirp. Awake so early your eyesight is muffled, your bones feel weak.

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She let herself love him with every fiber of her being. She let her fingertips trace his lips, his jawline, his collarbones. She let her body be enveloped into his, cheek against chest, sharing their warmth. She never wanted the euphoric feelings to pause, to end. Their proximity made her heart flutter, made her cheeks rosy with shades of red and pink. Letting her eyes shut, she wanted nothing but dreams overflowing with thoughts of him.

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As the youngest of my immediate family, sometimes I feel neglected.

I guess that's why I'm so connected to people through the internet, finding people to fill the space that my family originally was supposed to fill. I want everyone that I talk to on a daily basis to feel loved by me. Even if you're unable to return the same feelings, I want you to know that you're important to me. Without you, I honestly don't know where I would be.

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I can see the desire in your eyes.

The way the sweat falls from your forehead and pools at your chin. The way your limbs draw sharp lines and smooth curves in the air as your body moves to the beat with alluring fluidity. The way you're bashful off stage, yet the moment you're there to perform, your aura is confident and charismatic.  I can tell that you're a diligent worker, you're determined. You're young, but you know what you want and you're striving to get there, for excellence. 

I admire you for that. I admire your perfections, your imperfections. The whole of your being.

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Letting yourself remember your past can make you so delightfully exultant, yet so bitterly somber.

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He let himself inhale the scent of charcoal that smudged his tanned fingers and drew curves across the thick paper. The entire studio was flooded with unfinished art that was strewn across the floor, no hopes of becoming finalized. Jongin, known on the streets simply as Kai, was the man behind all the gorgeous art, all the intricate illustrations. He had strangers at the foot of him. People lined up, noses pressed against the cold glass, watching him create whatever art it may be, from pencil to paint. The humans that crowded the streets to observe him were convinced that his hands themselves were a piece of artwork. Strangers and critics admired his work, though Jongin himself failed to see the same.

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It feels as if I'm nocturnal.

Sleeping when the sun is arise in the blue sky, awake when the moon is luminous in the layers of darkness.

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Those gleaming orbs of yours sparkle with affection, your skin oozes perfection. I wish I could be close enough to you just to witness such an immaculate human. Trace the outline of your lips with my fingertips ever so lightly, draw figures on your the tender skin of your back. Watch your face stretch into a smile, eyes squinting into crescents and cheekbones rising high. Brush the bangs out of your eyes, pinch your nose. I just want to be near you, experience the little things about you that I already know would drive me mad.

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He missed him so much.

The way his feet ran upon the tiled floors, weaving his way throughout the congregated airport; wasn't it obvious? Tears stinging his waterline, threatening to create streams down his cheeks, but there was still a smile plastered across his face. Once he reached the taller man, he knocked into him with a force that made Chanyeol lose his balance, almost pulling him down to the ground. Chanyeol didn't mind, he missed the other male just as much. The two stood embracing, pooling tears on the sleeves of each other's shirts. Pulling away, their eyes met, twinkling with wetness. Their trembling lips grew into toothy smiles.

That's what initially drew them together.

Their sparkling eyes and superlative smiles, they were immediately attracted to each other at the first smile. It didn't take them long to build friendly relations before they found themselves waking up to each other's blushing faces, trying to find their articles of clothing scattered across the hardwood floors.

"I missed you more."

The two fought back with each other, pecking lips to cheek. It felt like they hadn't even been apart. They let their fingers intertwine tightly, let their lips lock, noses brushing up against each others causing a little smile to mold onto their faces. You could see the benevolent aura the two created, becoming happier each second.

Because they were together. 

a/n: for Lisa~ sorry if it's a bit short, and not so fluffy ;; i haven't really worked on fluff in the longest time, but I promise more short drabbles of the Chanhan pairing!

[chanhans-blog]

As a writer, you have to let multiple things inspire you. Whether it be pictures, parts of nature, the people around you, even people you haven't met. And I'm glad that I finally learned that, build off of what you have, what you imagine.

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