#krjongin

↱ = being lost with them .

“i told you we should have turned right” the small girl pouted as she hugged herself.

sending two puppies off to a different city for a concert without properly looking at the maps beforehand was a mistake. 

making it to the concert had been easy as most of the people staying in the same hostel as them were heading there. but after some consumption of alcohol and food hunting, the two cousins were totally lost.

in the back of her mind she could almost hear dae nagging the two about how they should have paid more attention. 

catching up to the dancer, she wrapped her arms around his torso, giving him a back hug and she made him drag her down the street. “i’m sleepy~” she mumbled against his warm back.

it took them about 30 minutes to realize that they were going in circles and that all they had to do was turn right by the small convenience shop.

ASK MEME

❃  ⇢ dancing with them 

“Would you do it with me?”

Jongdae raises his eyebrows for the nth time. They arch in a weird way, making him look something between unimpressed and incredulous. 

“You know I don’t know how to dance,” Jongdae states, truthfully, but still with a condescending tone because he’s not sure where that’s coming from or where it’s heading to.”I have two left feet, Jongin, you’re the graceful one in the family. I mean, look at me.” He gestures vaguely towards himself as if there’s something there to be seen. As if his awkwardness is an accessory that he wears on a daily basis. 

Jongin frowns at him, disapprovingly probably; after all, he is Jongdae’s best hype man.

“But would you do it for me?”

“I’d do anything for you.”

“Even if dad got mad at you too?”

"Jongin?” The other hums “Anything means anything, no exceptions.” even if it meant complete humiliation and faceplanting after one or two pirouettes. “You’re not going to make me dance, are you?” 

{ 7:02 a.m. } he wakes up early but only because Jack reminds him dutifully that he needs to walk him and even helps his owner get up by playfully pulling at his covers. he groans, but gets up. thirty minutes later, they’re back and he’s back into bed so he can sleep until he feels like a person again.

{ 11:32 a.m. }

It’s early for him, considering he has that terrible habit of being awake when everyone is asleep and he blames it on his job as if that part-time at the club that he does twice, maybe thrice a week is the sole reason why he can’t go to bed early. Old habits die hard. He remembers a time where he didn’t want to go to bed; not to sleep at least, but he can’t stop the memories and they follow through easily: neon lights and lots of red -- it's the color of passion, someone told him once, but he never delved too deep into symbology even if he should remember some of it because he is a painter after all, he should know better about color coordination. but he only knows how it makes him feel and not what it means. red is warm - hot - and overwhelming and it used to bring laughter to his days; fill his ears, drum against his chest. 

[ but red is also pain ]

he opens the first cabinet to grab a bowl and sets it on the table. in his quest to the fridge, he finds eggs (and takes two), some leftover kimchi and the last of the orange juice he bought last week. Things seem to last longer now and he should be grateful for the less frequent trips to the supermarket because if there’s something Ilhoon hates is to carry heavy things all the way back to the apartment.  He means to make an omelet, but he touches it too soon, parting both ends and is too lazy to try to fix it. Scrambled eggs it is then. 

there are no appointments at the tattoo parlor -- he double checked -- and the hyungs will be out to attend some convention. it’s tuesday, so he doesn’t need to head over to allure later tonight either. he finds this fortunate though, he still has that end-of-semester project that he needs to work on (although he thinks it’s going terribly). he finds that he can’t look at it for longer than twenty minutes today, his mind is not with him so his hand will only do worse. 

he eats instant noodles at 4 p.m. while sitting on his couch and that’s lunch, but only because he couldn’t stand the growling of his stomach anymore. Jack munches on his bone-shaped snacks at the foot of the couch even though his belly is full (ilhoon doesn’t let his son skip meals). he’s rewatching the last episode of a drama he finished a month ago, but he really likes that episode so he doesn’t mind that he’s probably seen it three or maybe four times after that first one. Jack doesn’t mind it either if that means he can jump onto the couch after he finishes all his snacks to snuggle to his owner. Ilhoon pets his head as the pup leans against his side. 

{ 7 p.m. }

he should probably get up. he kinda wants to pee but he’s too lazy to move so he doesn’t. he can hold it in. 

{ 8:21 p.m. }

he wakes up from a weird dream that doesn’t make sense but that he forgets as soon as he opens his eyes. he really needs to pee, so this time he obeys his body. 

{ 10:10 p.m. }

the delivery guy gives him a pointed look as he retrieves the bowl of jajjangmyun and the side of yellow radish from the tin delivery box he’s carrying. ‘Please make sure to order two servings next time, customer-nim. it’s rush hour, please understand that we cannot give priority to single serving requests’ 

he apologizes and bows even if he doesn’t have to. later on, he ends up leaving half the food in the bowl. the noodles are soggy and sad-looking. (like him)

{ 11:30 p.m. }

he follows jack to the front door. the dog is carrying his own leash in his mouth, happily wagging its tail because he’s a happy pup and because going out is his favorite thing in the world (besides belly rubs).

{ 1:01 a.m }

there are some infomercials on. a woman in her forties explains the benefits of a manual slicer, promising that every vegetable will be perfectly cut and beautiful. her assistant marvels at the nicely shaped slice of cucumber. he chuckles and silently thinks of Baekhyun and his aversion to said vegetable. they proceed to make a whole meal with prettily cut veggies, selling the idea of big dinners and impressed husbands and wives, single friends and co-workers. ilhoon thinks he may want to get that slicer (even if he’s been lacking the will to cook meals from scratch. instead, he is tempted to order two servings only to make the delivery guy happy that his time was not wasted on him. or maybe he can skip a meal and sleep early. (unlikely).

{ 2:37 a.m. }

he wakes up from another dream but this time it doesn’t vanish as soon as he opens his eyes and he can remember the details and the faces of the people on it. it’s a happy dream, nostalgic and full of perfect people, perfect feelings, things that make him want to stick his head in the freezer and scream at himself to get it together. he feels a bit nauseated so he gets up and struts to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. he could sit on the chair, but he chooses the cold floor over the comfort he could get otherwise. jack has followed him there, probably wondering if he could get any snacks since his owner is up anyway. he gives him one - it’s shaped like a dinosaur and the pup munches on it happily while ilhoon checks his phone. his art teacher responded to his e-mail (good news, the date to deliver the project has been dilated and he’s not that late after all); Baekhyun called once, then sent a text. he leaves it to read it in the morning so he can claim he was resting and having his eight hours of sleep like his friend wants him to -- ignorance is a bliss; no one needs more worries. he doesn’t go over his other messages; there’s no new ones but rather a few old ones he doesn’t want to think about. Jongin texted him two days ago; something about a milkshake and fries. (his reply has been drafted, but not sent. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve been busy. maybe next week when are you free?” and it’s been edited at least five times at that point. he’s having a hard time deciding on what to say.)

he switches back to his contacts and swipes right to someone else on his list.  a familiar voice greets him on the other side, still groggy.

☁ = being caught in the middle a storm with them .

Jongin’s hair clung across his face, trying to catch the feeling of his cheek. The water droplets rolled down against his skin, catching on eyelashes and jawlines before giving way to gravity completely and greeting the wet pavement with soft plunks. The heavy rainfall that overtook Seoul drowned out their need for conversation as well, so, together, Jieun and Jongin trudged along the glistening streets. 

Nanjin still stood a while away in the distance. Jieun’s socks squished about in her boots. “You know I should have expected this; Spring showers bring may flowers.” Her attempt to start up conversation was left in the puddle they just crossed over. Jongin’s face just kept forward, lost in thought and smiling. Perhaps he was still lost in the paintings they’d just gone to see at a new exhibit in town. 

Jieun tried again to pull him from his abyss. “As much as I love rain, I could really do for some dry clothes and hot tea.” Jongin nodded his agreement, but that didn’t seem to satisfy Jieun. 

Lightly nudging him off the sidewalk , Jieun makes a small whine that requests better conversation from the other. He paused a moment to give her a look before finally taking the chance to nudge her back. 

ASK MEME

Δ  ⇢ playing with their hair

Jongdae is a feline in a human’s body, everyone knows that, and he wonders if it’s a family thing, but he is awfully fond of cuddles and affection (much like Jongin and Yeri), so he doesn’t say no when Jongin gets too distracted with his dark brown locks.

‘hyung, you should dye your hair’ Jongin says. Jongdae has been changing the channel non-stop because there’s nothing good on TV and their show is not starting for another hour. Jongdae tilts his head at his brother’s words, wondering what came to him to suddenly voice such a thing. 

“I’m fine, thanks” Jongdae doesn’t like complicated things and hair dye sounds complicated and the whole process is troublesome. He remembers dealing with it once when Baekhyun asked him to help him do it to his hair and he remembers the extensive instructions and to feel like a chemist mixing everything. 

Jongin keeps going, of course, he never knows when to give up an idea especially when he thinks it’s a good one. He tells Jongdae how good he’d look, tells him how he should do it, how he should style it, suggests a color: blonde. Jongdae flicks his brother’s forehead after that. “Are you nuts?”

‘you’d look awesome’

“I’d look insane”

☂ = giving them their jumper to keep warm .

“huh?” she blinked as the big piece of fabric was placed in front of her eyes, it had been colder than the two kim cousins had expected as they made their way back home. they had decided to try out the new restaurant in town and ended up staying for way longer than expected. catching up with jongin was always nice, she wished she could see him more often. 

“i’m not that cold” she replied stubbornly, completely ignoring her shaking body. she should have brought her own jumper.

and so the nagging and whining began as two child-like cousins walked down the dark and deserted street, arguing on who should wear the jumper.

by the end of said street yeri was wearing the over-sized sweater as well as a pout that refused to leave her lips. she had also managed to climb onto her cousin’s back, her pout soon being substituted by a playful giggle as the two played around. it wasn’t until she got tired and let her face hide into his neck that she noticed the familiar scent that came from the sweater.

my muse wakes up in your muse’s body

>>                               Someone’s apartment, 7:03 a.m.                                   <<

Minhyun groaned and shoved at the arm that was vigorously shaking her awake and pulled the sheet over her head, eyes squeezing shut. To say she felt like shit was an understatement. She hadn’t felt this drunk since that time she woke up next to Mark and subsequently drank to forget the incident never occurred. It still wasn’t the same between them, matter of fact she was avoiding the cafe altogether which meant no cheerful greetings from Hanbyul. 

A pounding that Mihyun took for a head ache started getting louder and with it a piteous wail. The person who was shaking her viciously pulled away the sheet exposing Mihyun to the blinding light of the sun. Mihyun shot up into a sitting position, anger roiling through her and let out a loud “WHAT?” The pounding continued, quicker, like a drum beat. Mihyun barely had time to register what she was looking at before clothes were being thrown at her face. She managed to catch the most important article of clothing: boxer briefs before realizing several things. 

1. This was not her bedroom.

2. The woman before her was clearly naked under her sheer bathrobe and was older. 

and the most important fact:

3. This was not her body

Mihyun screamed causing the incessant pounding to pause and the woman who was frantically babbling and moving around the room to freeze also. What in the hell was going on?! What was this? Was it some kind of dream? Mihyun bit her hand, the pain causing her to wince. Nope, not a dream because that hurt like HELL. Mihyun grabbed the woman who was now yelling at the door and shook her unceremoniously, The woman broke from Mihyun’s--or well the body she was in--grasp and shoved her away. “You need to leave now! There’s a fire escape outside, just go out the window and I’ll call you later so we can meet up, okay? Just please, leave. Go!” Not knowing what else to do, Mihyun pulled on the boxers, then the pants, shirt, socks, and shoes and climbed out the window and down the stairs and metal ladder to land in the alleyway before stumbling out towards the street. 

Various people commuting to work either stepped around her or paused to take in her disheveled form--hair mussed, shoes untied, pants zipped but not buckled, shirt with badly buttoned before moving on with lingering glances. She had to get a grip! Mihyun pushed her way through the crowds until she ducked into a coffee shop and lurched to the bathroom. A shriek went up as she entered the woman’s bathroom before she walked out and crossed the hallway into the Men’s, locking the door behind her. 

Mihyun assessed her appearance. The man in the mirror was trim, well built and muscled in all the right places. A few tattoo’s peeked out at her from her hip and left arm and what looked like a hole for a piercing below her bottom lip. She felt herself blush at examining the man’s body she was in, noting he was attractive and if this were a different situation, maybe she’d--Mihyun stopped her thoughts and quickly turned on the faucet and splashed herself with cold water. Get a grip! You need to get out of here and--and what? Where was she going to go? Then a thought lanced through her with startling clarity. If she was in this body, did that mean this guy was in hers?  With a purpose, Mihyun got properly dressed. She had just finished lacing up her--his--shoes before someone started knocking on the door. Mihyun leapt to it, swung it open, and waltzed out leaving the older businessman to grumble behind her as she stepped back out into the street to hail a cab. 

The cab ride to her apartment yielded interesting developments. That she was tall for once in her life, that she was broader than she thought the man was, and that his name was Kim Jongin and the address on his I.D. was definitely not where he had awoken that morning which meant the woman was either his girlfriend--which was unlikely since she mentioned her husband--or that he was...an escort? That thought swirled around in her head until a truth slammed into her chest: She couldn’t feel emotions. The headache she suffered was only from the alcohol consumption, even that was fading as she sobered somewhat. 

Valentine’s day meme; closed!

♗ : Your muse falling asleep with their head in my muse’s lap