𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍

@sgnahri

jongin has always been a demon in human skin, so for him to dress up like a goblin king on such a prominent night as this, to take that mantel and don it like a crown ought to be telling at best, a warning at worst. he’d debated with himself about whether going as a demon might be too on the nose for someone as chaotic as he was known for being, but in the end decided to amp up the playful aspect as much as possible, just in case he needs an easy out. besides, as soon as he enters the event, he thinks he spots someone else dressed as the devil, so it’s a fair game, all things considered.

he loses yoori immediately upon arrival, the girl as eager as ever to be away from him (which he can’t blame her for, having spent all summer trapped less than thirty feet away from him), and he’s already making plans in his mind to ramp up the stream of disorder as soon as possible, but first... he must be sober when he deals with ahri. he finds her rushing about the room, the dahlia event staked on reputation and glamour, as these things usually always are, and he can tell she’s stressed about it, her movements jerky and quick. good. he wants her stretched, he wants her frayed and off-center-- he wants the truth from her.

sgnjongin​:

mornings after

yeah. it was one of those mornings. the ones where she partied a little too hard the night before and she needed cleanse her mind. it took a few minutes of blinking to place where she was, what happened. last night, she was a woman on a mission and it looked liked she succeed. “do you smoke?” that was the first thing that she muttered, then shook her head. hmm. “never mind but good morning.” she wasn’t sure if they’d be on same page when it came to that. then she glanced at the cat, inching up a little so she was a little more comfortable, while feeling for her phone. 

she smirked at his comment, finally finding her phone, “when it comes to cat’s, they’re in charge and you’re just there to clean the litter. just the way life is.” although she was talking to him, her face was buried in her phone, finally going to the video she thought she had. “now that my head is clear…i wonder.. should i start my day off being a bitch?” finally, she did look at jongin, her face curios. the whole thing had been out of anger and now she was a bit more clear headed. “someone you’re dating, not dating, fucking around with. whatever. she was being a bit and bragged that she had you in the bag. i sought out to prove her wrong -which i did- but now that i’m not drunk on anger. i’m second guessing myself.” for what it was worth, she was completely frank about. not an once of shame showing on her face. 

eventually pushing dokki onto the floor, jongin shoves the palms of his hands into his eyes, rubbing at the sleep crumbs he finds there and chuckling at olivia’s verdict about cats. she’s not wrong; dokkaebi often reminds jongin of his own inferiority, but he doesn’t respond back. “i do smoke actually,” he admits, pointing over at the small table on her side of the room. “there’s some cigs in the second drawer down if you want some.” he certainly doesn’t mind, and given his position at the school and his ingrained standing with wolfbane, he doesn’t worry about any negative repercussions his neighbors may try to infringe on him for the smell. it’s the morning, what could they expect?

send ‘drunk’ to receive drunk texts from my muse.

[ text -> jolie fille ] whrerereare youwwhere are you wherare ouuuu [ text -> jolie fille ] i lockv meeyself out of myyy plaec [ text -> jolie fille ] so ii came herer 2 urs [ text -> jolie fille ] and urrrr nottt he re???????????????? [ text -> jolie fille ] wher

i’ll show you a good time hotstuff

she’s nearly all ready to go, checking herself one final time in the mirror, running her fingers through dark, black tresses, smiling at her own reflection. there’s only one thing that’s keeping her from heading out right at that moment, though, and she can’t quite put her finger on it. something is just missing, but even as she continues to twist and turn her figure in the mirror, it’s impossible to place. a frown forms on her face, lower lip jutting out in an involuntary pout when her phone springs to life once more, causing her to turn away from the mirror to grab it and reply to the messages.

———————  *┇ 𝙨𝙢𝙨 » 아도니스 ❞

‧  ‧  ‧ ‧‧‧⇢ hmmmmm wouldn’t you like to know~? ‧  ‧  ‧ ‧‧‧⇢ well, you’ve been doing a good job. keep that up and you just might get a promotion ‧  ‧  ‧ ‧‧‧⇢ oh, leather, huh? just the image is tantalizing~ don’t worry. i’ve got just the thing

with a smile, she slips her phone into a clutch, grabbing one final accessory to add to her ensemble, problem solved after seeing his texts. she has to say, a leather choker really brings everything together, and pumps up the entire vibe she’s going for. she gives herself one final glance in the mirror before heading out to meet him. he hadn’t exactly told her where he was, but when he messages her like that, she knows he’s already close by. sure enough, as soon as she exits her building, she spots him, and the smile on her face is immediate. she waves as she approaches him, eyeing him up and down before greeting him. “well, you never disappoint, do you?” she compliments him, a flirtatious lilt in her tone that both means nothing and means everything about their unique relationship. “we good to go?”

she doesn’t have to tell him; he already likes the idea of her thinking about him constantly, even if it’s not true-- but then, jongin always enjoys the idea of people thinking about him, even if it’s to hate him. he’s secure enough in his relationship with daeun to know that whether good or bad, she wouldn’t tell him of her honest thoughts, given that their friendship is based so wholeheartedly on the flatteries and teases both of them can dish out. it’s always only mostly falsehoods or mostly candor, which is what makes it so much fun. so instead of replying to her texts, he merely licks his lips and slips his phone back into his pocket, eager to see the ensemble she descends in.

@oliviasgn

as is customary in any house or apartment that kim jongin lives in, he tends to always wake up in the worst way imaginable, with a headache the size of jupiter spawning from whatever hellish escapades he’d engaged in the night before– it’s just par for the course of his life lately, especially since the announcement of his engagement. he considers this both his acting out period as well as retribution both for himself and to his family for existing. someone has to do something irrational, someone has to do something ridiculous, someone has to always pay the price, and jongin is no stranger to understanding that it will always be himself. somewhere in the world, yoori is waking up beautifully and he hates her for it.

welcome back to hell kids

taeho has never been much of a welcoming presence, and he’s certainly not a traditionally friendly one. maybe it’s the towering height, the deep voice, the resting bitch face… or quite simply the fact that he’s drawn to interpersonal conflict and verbal arguments like a moth to a flame. unsurprisingly, the fact he had to get up at ass-crack of dawn to drag his own sorry ass to a pit of chlorine doesn’t help. what even was this assembly for anyways? and why did it have to be this cruelly early? really the fact that these eager-to-please fetuses freshmen were swarming his headspace is the cursed cherry on top. 

still, taeho wouldn’t consider himself a bully, per say. he likes to think he only goes after those who are really asking for it. so why is he laughing unapologetically when jongin sends an unexpecting freshman tumbling into the pool? come on, you can’t blame a guy for appreciating objectively good content – the way the poor kid’s lanky limbs go flying everywhere, his eyes widening in sudden shock. comedic gold. besides, what happened to all having a positive mindset? appreciate the small things in life! start your day with a laugh! laughter is the best medicine! really, where were all those optimists now?

unfortunately it seems like their coach is not an optimist. also unfortunately, taeho’s half-awaken brain can’t stop himself from leaking snickers of laughter, despite his coach’s very evident disapproval. “i swear, the kid’s body got in the way of jongin’s foot,” he testifies very seriously. no positive response. “he asked jongin if water was wet.” still no response. “jongin is helping foster a brotherhood, a camaraderie like no other. he made me laugh. and you know how hard i am to please,” he pleads. okay, the look in his coach’s eyes is growing increasingly murderous, and he knows he should probably stop… but he can’t help himself. 

“coach! we–” he motions at jongin and himself. “–are the backbones of this team. you can’t bench us… you know you love us,” he insists, capping things off with a sugary wink. he thinks it’s probably in the employment contract somewhere that coaches can’t inflict corporal punishment on their athletes… well at least that’s what he’s banking on now.

it’s one of those mondays that grinds into jongin’s bone and scrapes against his nerve-endings, fraying all his edges and driving him to extremes, so when the coach tells him go to sit on a bench, his initial reaction is sneering and hateful, despite taeho’s jovial responses. jongin is a creature of halves-- half snide, half charm, half in, half out, half too much, half never enough, half control, half chaos. but it’s that chaotic side of him today, on monday, that gets him and taeho in hot water, because as soon as the coach tells them to go sit down, all jongin wants to do is shove him into the pool next.

“i was teaching the brat a valuable lesson,” jongin tosses in along with all of taeho’s excuses. “the first of many, in fact, about how swimming can be a fun sport and also a method of survival as well. shouldn’t that be considered more of a noble undertaking on my part?” similar to how the older man reacts to taeho, he simply glares at jongin as well before pointing towards the benches, the muscles in his jaw flexing. jongin thinks for a moment, he could probably take him, if he wanted, if this meant enough to him, if it really angered him that much.

Star gazing

Even though Yoori is supposed to be the theatrical one, the face her fiancee pulls is nothing short of dramatic. She fights the smile threatening to pull at her cheeks from the corner of her lips and turns back to the sky as if she was also looking for Kinu. As if this was a real story. Why was she even entertaining him? At this point she could just ignore the ramblings of a drunken man and it would make no difference either way. 

But glancing over at him, she felt no pang of annoyance or even the urge to extend her long legs and push him down this hill. Instead she hummed as she if she is listening intently. “You would think my upbringing in the middle of nowhere has given me a more extensive knowledge of folklore.” She agrees as his arm once again obstructs her view of the night sky, Not that it matters, it gives her an excuse to glance at him for a bit longer as he begins spewing silly stories and for a moment he seems like a little kid. Making up crazy stories and asking the adults in his life to believe them. It breaks her heart a bit to think about, young Jongin not even being able to white lie because of his father. Never being able to truly be a child in his own home, growing up too soon, hardening too quickly; maybe that is why she indulges this moment under the night sky. “Caterpillars, Kino was a caterpillar.” She whispers back as if it’s true. 

Because for a moment when she’s watching his eyes even darker without any light to reflect back on them, yet full of such glittering moments of mischief. It was true. “So what ever happend to Kino after he made the sky? Did he turn into a butterfly after his adventures?”

“caterpillars, yes,” jongin acquiesces, nodding too much until he’s nauseated, and then covering his face with both hands until he can bring himself back to a safe mental space. this weekend has been so long already, and while he agreed to spend this time with her instead of anyone else less pretty, he is on the verge of hankering for another drink, just to keep the edge off. he can’t allow himself to meander back towards sobriety, that’s not the name of this game. “kino the warrior caterpillar.” he pauses a moment then, wincing. “that doesn’t have the same sort of fearsome vibe to it though, does it? caterpillars are soft, cushy creatures.”

he scratches his nails through his hair, running them through the strands messily as he stares upwards towards the dark sky, thinking about his own tall tale and how that would look, how that would play out; a great big wormy monster chewing through the black canopy, needling in and out like a tapestry. “what an abomination that would be,” he whispers, mostly to himself now, slurry and stumbling over words. “how we were supposed to live in darkness before the stars came.”

@sgnhna | a terrible price

‘manners’ is rich coming from a boy that has none. although, she wishes nothing less than to speak up and put him in his place—she simply shrinks more. he has the aura of a bad boy and he plays it well. there wasn’t anything she could do but stand there with her head down.

she sighed under her breath, looking at the binder trapped in her arms. this was for a grade. she has to suffer through it. she needs to be the bigger person. his attitude to her won’t change, and she knows that, so she lifts her head. “ i’ll be using the entire stage. “ she states in her loudest voice yet. her feet still planted in their spot as her gaze went to the stage. ballet likes to occupy the mass space to showcase extravagant jumps and twirls. the more performers, the bigger the stage. however, hana could fill a large stage on her own.

the notebook in her arms was finally released from it’s hold. she opened it to check the confirmed size and shape of the platform. “ big is good.. i have a lot of leaps in this performance.. i’m introducing a bit of rhythmic gymnastics to keep the audience entertained.. i know ballet isn’t as regale as it once was, so i will be throwing around a ball for a small portion of my dance. the ceiling cannot be low.. “

jongin begins sketching as she speaks, taking slow, deliberate steps across the stage even though he isn’t paying attention to where he’s walking. he trusts himself to understand the space around him, to fill it easily and not wander off the edge. to understand what she needs, he has to be able to feel the vibe of this place, know what it is she’s seeing, what it is the audience wants to see. something captivating, something delicate.

ballet sets can be gaudy but he’s been to enough shows (forced on him by his mother) to know the generalized set pieces and expected lighting for most types of works. “a lot of leaps and you’re taking up the entire stage by yourself...” he murmurs, more to himself than to her, but eventually he does look up at her, as though for confirmation. “a ball and gymnastics?” he blinks, trying to digest that. “are you going to be tossing the ball around as well? dodging or dunking or something?”

“If that were true, you’d be a single man. Instead of pretending to be one.” Apryl replies boldly, having no idea what’s he told her in the foreign language. No doubt it’s some innuendo, meant to further tease the blonde. When it comes to Jongin, Apryl has no idea what she really feels for him. Contempt or infatuation, perhaps both, dangerously mixed in what she knows is a highly volatile cocktail. Whatever that sensation is, she fights the feeling full heartedly, refusing to accept defeat. Apryl only reacts with a raised eyebrow, challenging Jongin to do the unthinkable, which he always fails to do.

“What bind am I in? I still have my freedom. Unlike you.” Apryl points out with a self satifiying grin. She then rolls her eyes when hearing his insufferable sighs. Dramatic as usual. “I know I can do better. Unfortunately, the love of my life is taking his sweet time, for some reason or another. Guess I’ll have to quell this boredom I feel by hanging out with you.” Apryl declares, mimicking the sigh that he mockingly offered. Apryl adding one huff more, just to upstage him. “Hopefully, he’ll show his face before you say I do. I’d hate to make your wife even more insecure than she already is.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. single or not, i can do whatever i want,” he tells her reaching up to brush her hair back behind her ear, his eyes soft and dark, sticky and sweet, like molasses. apryl tries so hard to sound like she knows more than she actually does, even when it’s obvious she’s just talking out of her ass, but jongin smiles at her anyway, unwilling to give up more than he has to with her. “i have plenty of freedom with plenty of people, i have more money than god, and a naturally trustworthy face.”

he grins wolfishly at her to accentuate just how untruthful the last part of his sentence was, but the rest of it... sure. “well if you’re holding out so long for the love of your life to appear, maybe it’s because you’re trying to find him at the bottom of the barrel. you ought to grow some standards, that’s all i’m saying.” he chuckles at her show of dramatics, rolling his eyes back at her. “this from the girl who constantly hounds me to buy her food and take her out? poor little apryl, stuck here in the muck and grime with me. when will your knight in shining armor appear?!” he opens his arms out wide, as though one of her fairytale boys will just fall right out of the sky. “why would my wife be insecure about you finding a boyfriend? i can’t imagine why she’d care.”

send ‘drunk’ to receive drunk texts from my muse.

[ text -> prezz ] WUSH U WER R HEERE LOSER [ text -> prezz ] COMEEE OUTTTTTTT WIT MEEEEEEEEE [ text -> prezz ] when u gonnansg b heree [ text -> prezz ] ??????

send ‘sad’ to receive sad/down texts from my muse.

[ text -> prezz ] jaehee would want u to experience LIFE prez [ text -> prezz ] jaehee would want u to COME OUT w/ me [ text -> prezz ] u kno she would, i kno she would, she just texted me [ text -> prezz ] dont make me cry to her abt u

send ‘reveal’ to receive a revealing texts from my muse.

[ text -> prezz ] {twelve photo attachments of kim jongin in various states of nudity}

send ‘sad’ to receive sad/down texts from my muse.

[ text -> where for art thou ] have u seen my cat?? [ text -> where for art thou ] he didn’t come back in last night [ text -> where for art thou ] think he’s finally done with my ass??

send ‘drafts’ to receive texts to your muse that wasn’t sent from my muse.

send ‘drunk’ to receive drunk texts from my muse.

[text -> le préféré de ma mère ] GO DATE [text -> le préféré de ma mère ] A TRAHSH CAN

send ‘mad’ to receive mad/angry texts from my muse.

[text -> le préféré de ma mère ] stop telling my mother we’re friends [text -> le préféré de ma mère ] even if ur just sitting there smiling while she infers it, it causes damage [text -> le préféré de ma mère ] she thinks we hang out jjs ahri [text -> le préféré de ma mère ] she’s giving me shit to give to u, isn’t she gonna see u next wednesday or somtthing???? im not ur damn waiter

❝ — stuck , ★°。

( … )

“what’s it to you?” she spits back, leaning against the far wall of the room, gaze falling to her feet as she taps them against the ground. she allows silence to swallow them, but the thickness of it makes even her uncomfortable, so she fills it with her own voice, sighing as she does so. “i never told you about it. it’s not exactly something i go around telling everybody, and it’s not something that comes up in casual conversation.” at this point, asking him not to tell anyone would probably only prompt him to go around spreading it even more, so she refrains.

the way he speaks about yoori makes her skin crawl, a frown forming on her fae. sure, she and the president of the drama club aren’t exactly the best of friends, but she admires and respects her, especially knowing the kinds of things she has to deal with by being engaged to him. “you don’t even realize how lucky you are,” she says, but that luck comes at a price for yoori, a disheartening price. she shakes her head, pushing herself off the wall to try and search for the door. “can’t you just bust it open or something? i’m sure you could afford to replace it. get a door that actually works, even.”

he runs his fingers through his hair, scratching the nails over his scalp to try and calm himself down, to remind himself that this isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened to him, this isn’t the most terrible price he’s ever paid for a wrong turn made. he can remember blood and screams and sharp stabs of pain for simply asking the wrong sort of questions, even as a child-- this is nothing like that. this is just a game, a playground at best, just another test of his psychosis, being pitted in here with a girl he’d rather not have to deal with again.

it’s not so much that he hates her-- she’d never hurt him enough to warrant his fury towards her, but goddamn it, she could certainly be annoying sometimes. most of the time. now that they’re in here together like this, and she’s hunting for ways to make him uncomfortable about yoori and the party and his own motivations, he remembers the things about yoohyeon that he disliked, even when they were together. she was such a romantic, always wanting more than she could get, always hoping for some fairytale turn of phrase from him, as though he was a knight in armor instead of the devil in the dark. it was a constant pressure. it hadn’t been new to him, to date or lead on some girl with that many stars and hearts in her eyes, but it had felt interesting that he might reciprocate it, even minutely, with her.

she’d felt different than yoori, and that had been intoxicating for a while. which is, as its own thing, a dangerous line for him to walk.

none of that sits between them now though, as evident by the way she stubbornly refuses to answer him at first, snapping back a retort. he sighs and throws his hands up, rolling his eyes even though she can’t see, before crossing his arms tightly over his chest and pressing himself back harder against the wall. he can’t blame her, really, he wouldn’t tell himself anything either.

but then she does. her voice gets quieter, more careful, more worried, more sincere, which makes sense given what she’s telling him, this weakness she’s revealing about herself. he should make an exposé about it. “don’t they have medicine or something for that?” he asks, frowning. “you really sounded like you were leaving your body, i was afraid i might have to knock you out or something to calm you down.” his words are harsh, but he doesn’t infuse his voice with enough snark to match, his tone calm and verging on worried.