scsungki-blog

[scsungki-blog]

shinuuiih:

(...)

“The one that has like all of our childhood pictures together, which I brought back with me by the way, and there was the one on the day we first met, like really really first met when you were still a baby and this probably sounds crazy cause I think I was about five or something, but I remember thinking that you were the prettiest baby I’d ever seen in my whole life and I was looking at the way I was looking at you in that photo and I kept thinking about how that made me feel and how I felt that day because you know what, you’re still the prettiest baby I’ve ever seen in my whole entire life - on the inside as much as the outside.”

There’s more handholding, Uui lacing their fingers together clumsily.

“Especially when you wear that Prussian blue color.”

Warm affection had always felt like venom curdling in his gut, it felt like shallow platitudes, it felt like sick rising up his throat. At least, it had with his parents when they pet and preened over him in public, constantly polishing over their trophy child, and anything remotely excessively saccharine seemed to call back to the sour taste he hated so much. But when it was Uui - by some miracle - Sungki didn’t seem to mind when the other boy clung to him. They’d known each other long enough for him to not even think twice about it, but that wasn’t just it - he knew his parents all his life and he hated to have their hands on him. But the other boy was a triumph of warmth, an easy exception to make.

Shame hindered the weak. He didn’t stop to think about his reputation when Uui laced their fingers together despite how crowded the bar was, it doesn’t occur to him to be embarrassed. It spoke lowly about those who were far too concerned about strangers who might or might not be looking than the person in front of them - especially when the person in question was his own longtime friend, one of the few in his life to whom he could count himself as unconditionally loyal.

“Is this your way of confessing your love to me?” Sungki teased, lifting an eyebrow, his lips curling in mirth. He was one or two drinks in and it wouldn’t be anything more than that simply to keep an eye on Uui. “Talking about love and babies and what kind of colors I look good in and first meetings, you really are terribly drunk to be in such a mood to be talking about such fateful things.”

He teased, but there was no helping the warmth balling in the pit of his stomach at Uui’s words. Who else was brave enough to talk such sentiment in front of him, to outright claim Sungki was good? He would have scoffed hearing it from anyone else, almost anyone else, but to hear it come from Uui felt more like an honor he didn’t deserve, a king crowning a pauper. “Seems like you understood ‘love’ perfectly, so who am I to tease.

“I always felt lucky, you know. Having someone like you watching over me since before I was born, finding something about me that was worth sticking with a few decades more.” He brushed his thumb along Uui’s skin. “I don’t understand it.”

[scsungki-blog]

ihjoohyun:

her eyes have fallen to the appetizer she’s left untouched, room temperature. nothing appeals to joohyun now; mood ruined, and all she can occupy her mind with is how much she wants to go home, away from her mother, to a place of solitude where she can let her hatreds roam free from the confines of public eye. other people’s opinions have always mattered, it’s been something joohyun has been groomed all her life to believe, but she’s never mastered the skill of a poker face. she always looks annoyed, bored, unimpressed.

she wonders why it’s sungki of people she has to taunt him with like some kind of puppet on strings. he won’t dance for her, no, and certainly won’t give her what she wants.

her mother keeps going just to jab the knife in even harder; joohyun’s blood is boiling as she pampers the male with every disgusting, overdone compliment a middle aged woman could think to tell a male in his twenties.

when she catches his eyes glancing far off, somewhere better than where they are and away from her mother, she runs with it.

“i fucking hate her,” she spits once they’re alone, far from prying ears and eyes. it’s here that she explodes. “i don’t get it — what the hell does she think she’s doing? she’s sitting right next to that useless husband of hers —” she points an angry finger, nail decorated for this particular occasion, but so over the top that in her fit of anger she wishes she could just scratch the woman’s throat apart. “she’s so fucking gross, i can’t believe it. she’s egging me on.” stressed hands run through her newly permed black hair. “i don’t know what i’ve done to her to make her hate me this much, but jesus, this seriously is some of the pettiest shit i’ve ever seen her pull.”

joohyun pauses momentarily to look at sungki, wondering why her mother would really choose him of all options to use against her. she sighs, the frustration still making her skin itch. “sorry,” she mutters toward the floor, “— she didn’t need to bring you into this.”

his loyalty is often overlooked by the ignorant stranger, believed to be a myth, a smoke in the mirror, and he doesn’t blame them; things like loyalty and faith don’t gleam as brightly as the tips of fangs or the razor glint of a machiavellian in the dark - they don’t possess the same glamor. but morality is inherent in ruthlessness, one cannot exist without the other, one is indicative of the other, and sungki’s own moral code is as shrouded in conflict and mist as he is.

and he loathes many things. but more than many things, he loathes how blatantly joohyun’s been neglected, not just now, but being witness for years as she was handed off to his family as if she were a pup to be distracted rather than a child to be nurtured. the follies of the rich and lazy were nothing new, nothing short of pervasive, but somehow it was far less tolerable when he’s suffocating from unsolicited flirtations and platitudes from a woman old enough to be his mother and the overall insincerity of his parents’ society.

he listens as joo rants, his patience equal parts cordial and predatory, his lips curling in anticipation. this was all a familiar dance, the candor, the bubbling carnality, but today brings a new edge, a new hunger - there’s new stakes. “don’t apologize to me. if anyone deserves an apology, it’d be you; i find your patience inspiring.” long fingers wind around her wrist, pull her closer against him, his other hand clasping at the flesh of her thighs, the swell of her ass. sometimes bluntness wasn’t enough for certain villains - sometimes they needed to be shown just how little power they had. “and rousing.”

just beyond the corner, in the light, her mother speaks and titters - and she could only just crane her head to see her daughter twined around the man at whom she’d just been licking her lips, fingernails digging into her flesh, sliding the hem of her dress up, toying at the lace of her panties and chasing the heat of her skin. flames lick at the pit of his stomach at the thought - everything is fire and brimstone when set against a marble and ivory backdrop. “so? let’s be petty as well. let’s be hateful.”

[scsungki-blog]

And on the glimmering limit far withdrawn God made Himself an awful rose of dawn.

Alfred Lord Tennyson, The Vision of Sin. (via xshayarsha)

[scsungki-blog]

ihyoongi:

(...)

fuck, there was blood in his mouth that had been slowly dripping down his chin and he was getting really tired of it. it took him a moment’s hesitation to decide whether he run the chance of offending someone’s delicate sensibilities before he ducked his head to the side, spitting the blood out onto the ground. not worth the irritation, and he was interested to see sungki’s reaction. 

perhaps it’s shocking to some that sungki  prefers the fighter’s sparse words, his coarse mannerisms, his bruises and cuts to the gilded refinement that permeated his childhood and haunted him now in his family, in the people with whom he was meant to associate. it’s an honesty that spoke of grit and sinew, smelled like copper, looked like bedlam but tasted sweet to the tongue if one had acquired the taste for it. sungki’s own violence was a quiet savagery, hidden in shadows cast by a crooked grin, the flickering light of a flame burning against the tip of cigarette - as complementing as it was contrasting.

his own lips quirk at yoongi’s laughter - a smile in the right light. money neither ruins nor benefits anything - for sungki, it’s simply there, a tool, a means of attainment, and he refuses to form an attachment to it lest he become its slave, lest he grow weak and slight and sought wealth out as a means to fill him out again. “i would, if i cared to bet at all. the wiry one there was persistent and eager to goad me into filling up the betting pool - thought it’d be droll to make a fool out of him. rather, to have you make a fool of him.” he tilts his head, lips growing into a cheshire grin. “but it’s not about that for you either, is it?”

what is it about?

the flash of red catches sungki’s attention like a moth to flame, dark eyes carving trails from the boy’s lips to the bleeding patch on the floor. he pauses, as if to consume what he can just from staring. there’s nothing and everything to be said about a something so vividly abhorred by polite company, to what would usually be hastily covered with a handkerchief, to a sight that could make fine folk flinch as if struck themselves. sungki can’t help but stare, more in intrigue than anything else - yoongi embodies it all, a wicked north star he can’t help but watch. “do you... need help cleaning up?”

start from zero

[scsungki-blog]

© UNPHYSICAL | Do not edit

[scsungki-blog]

jnygih:

(...)

life is a dance and jinyoung takes cues from the music, from the air, from the boy’s smile that gleams like a blade in the moonlight – all dangerous and sharp edges and that deep murmur of a voice that rises like water breaking ground, fresh and full of grit and dirt and a taste that haunts. that comes forth in moments of silence to fill mouths, like the memory of blood over his tongue. intrusive and flighty – like being unable to neither forget nor remember.

it’s these cues that tell him to lean back just enough to pull his hands away from soft hair to wrap around his drink. he revels in the contact of their fingers, imagines it more intimate than it is, and revels more when he tips his head back to finish his beer in one short stroke. it’s these cues that lift his arm so he can throw the cup back over his shoulder, these cues that guide and bend his body so he can nestle himself in the other’s lap, his back finding an armrest while his legs stretch and sprawl on the length of the couch.

“i think hair routines are interesting – i like watching on youtube when they get it all sudsy and soapy and just wash it away. it’s, like, really satisfying, you know?” and he pauses just to sigh, to let his eyes drink in the other’s gaze; to let them rake over the handsome lines of his neck; the curve of his nose; the shape of his lips. something whirs inside of him – tastes like fear, but feels desire. “and i would definitely watch you wash your hair – i want to know which conditioner you use.”

jinyoung leans back with a smile, lets his neck tilt his head back, lets his eyes close with a sigh; allows himself the luxury to look both bored and enthralled, as if tired of the energy that bubbles inside of him.

“there are so many interesting things about me, though, i can’t pick – that’s not fair, and not possible. i mean, aren’t i already the most interesting person you know? and even if i’m not, you better lie to me; i’m sensitive.”

here is where the performance begins, he thinks. his eyes creak open and his back curves. his smile, too, becomes more practiced, recalls the care and precision of stage makeup. he looks to the stranger and a small wash of static fills his spine when he finds something cosmically familiar in his eyes.

“for starters, i dance – ballet, you know – so i’m super flexible, and super fit.” his hand finds the other’s to press it against his stomach. “that’s years and years and years of practice. plus, i can do the splits – i can do a lot, but, like, the splits is usually what people ask for.” and as he talks, his free hand lowers to help lift his leg, higher and higher, foot pointed, calf taut, until he forms as straight as a line as he can. with an easy smile, he exclaims, “see?! i told you – i can also fit my entire fist in my mouth – want to see?”

there’s a kind of old hollywood way of being and existing that the boy seems to inhabit. his words float like champagne bubbles and butterfly kisses, his voice is soft and tenuous and reminiscent of all the hepburns in all the universes, his languid way of moving draws sungki in like a moth to a flame. their fingers touch when the beer is taken from him and it feels like blue fire, and as the stranger drinks, sungki takes his chance to admire the pillar of white that is his neck, flushed with drink and mirth, loosely drawn and beautiful. 

he doesn’t bother to hide his attraction, as no feral beast would bother to hide his appetite. long fingers raze paths of heat along the bare skin, up the boy’s calves, along his knees, resting just at his thighs and creating just the slightest indent in the silk of his skin. in sungki’s drunkenness, he imagines the moon lives within the stranger, and when it was late at night, when no one is looking, he strung himself up in the sky to be adored, to light the earth.

in between the boy’s airy talk of hair products and youtubers, sungki finds each morsel of innuendo he can, lets it embolden him and fill him with a low burning flame. “you’re more than welcome to come see for yourself what conditioner i use - and while you’re there it’d only make sense to let you watch me wash my hair; i’m sure it’ll turn into something far more riveting than a show and tell.”

there’s something close to arrogance in the boy’s words, but it’s too earnest and too aware to ever cross the threshold - one would never fault a flower for blooming - and it leaves sungki with a taste that would be too saccharine if it were anyone else. “you are the most interesting person i know.” his lips draw up, teasing and coy. “certainly the most interesting thing about this party. tell me, are you following me around to the most boring gatherings so i have no choice but to pay attention to you?” it was said in jest - even at the most raucous parties, sungki would still be looking at him.

long fingers splay along the stranger’s stomach, feeling the taut flesh, the toned lines and curves, and he lets his even expression quirk at the sight of the leg pointed in the air, fingers tightening on supple skin. “impressive.” he laughs, deep and curling, like winding smoke. he hums - “yes. that would be the second most impressive thing about you.”

5 years .

[scsungki-blog]

ihjoohyun:

(...)

she sighs, visibly annoyed, glancing at the male seated next to her, years of practice giving him the same look perfected at twenty-two. i’m so sorry, her eyes can only speak for her, you know how she is.

at best, he’s largely indifferent to the high society galas he subjects himself to at his parents’ request; at worst, he loathes them, always have. the meticulously crafted veneers, the unholy stench of many overpriced perfumes and colognes mingling, their lacquered gems and the disquieting din of the bored and sanctimonious placing themselves on pedestals is close to unbearable. despite becoming used to it at an age far too young to be blending in with villains and snakes behind the guise of community leaders and bureaucrats, he still hates it as much as he always did. 

perhaps the worst of it all was being paraded around like a show pony, the gilded fruit of their tireless abuse, too big now to throw around so instead they drape it in silk and silver and pretend all their sins have been forgiven, that his absence had served as their penance. 

but if there’s any reprieve to be taken from this, it’s the fact that he isn’t alone in his resentment - joohyun has as much reason to loathe these gatherings as he did, though it was for the exact opposite sentiment. while his parents heap attention unto him, she’s neglected by her own, jutted to the side in favor of their own egos. it’s rare that he feels indignation on behalf of anyone, but when he does it’s toxic and festering and unrelenting - he silently seethes the more she’s ignored, though his expression is as pleasantly impassive as it always is at these galas, neither inviting nor offering commentary. 

“thank you,” he says, and his voice and smile is tepid and cool. “i appreciate the sentiment, but no, i’m still single at the moment. i’m afraid grad school already takes up too much time as it is, and i figure i’ll have time for a partner after i graduate.” his parents chuckle approvingly. his lips curl. “but it doesn’t hurt to wish.” he says it to soften her, to hear her coo and titter, to make what he’s planning all the more satisfying. 

he catches joo’s look, returns it with his own, dark eyes darting to the hallway. he quietly excuses himself, takes long, deliberate strides and disappears into the blanket of shadow.

[scsungki-blog]

✉ ↻ ✖ ❤ ❧ ☀ ☁ ☂

✉  for a 2 am message

[ ✉ odette ] : what if multiple lives and reincarnation don’t exist?[ ✉ odette ] : what then?[ ✉ odette ] : what else do i tell myself when it’s 2AM and i can’t stop thinking about -? tell me, odette. 

↻  for a unsent message

[ ✉ odette ] : can you honestly remember why we ended things? was there a reason? did we imagine a reason?[ ✉ odette ] : it feels like it all happened in a dream and now that we’re awake, barely aware, we’ve got to live with the consequences.[ ✉ odette ] : surely i’m the only one who feels this way. it’s better if the thought is silenced.[ ✉ odette ] : send me a sign that you still think of me.

✖  for a angry/threatening message

[ ✉ odette ] : Stop. Telling. People. I. Teared. Up. At. Hachiko.[ ✉ odette ] : i told you when we saw it that you were projecting on me.[ ✉ odette ] : i’ll tell everyone you nearly got a concussion sucking me off under the table at dinner at the palm.[ ✉ odette ] : but you’d probably like that. 

❤  for a loving/affectionate message

[ ✉ odette ] : i don’t think there’s anything that can keep you from being as good as you are.[ ✉ odette ] : and i used to hate people like you. i always thought they were lying. [ ✉ odette ] : but you cry when you lie, so i couldn’t hate you. 

❧  for a drunk message

[ ✉ odette ] : you know [ ✉ odette ] : i still thinkk about what yuo said[ ✉ odette ] : about happy endings[ ✉ odette ] : if i drink enough i can almost believe u again

☀  for a morning message

[ ✉ odette ] : good morning. [ ✉ odette ] : i heard that you defended me last night - someone called me terrible, did they? and you cried and said i’m not terrible, i’m just scared.[ ✉ odette ] : i… [ ✉ odette ] : you know, i always thought to be with me was proof of your patience - because i always thought to be with me was a special kind of ordeal. [ ✉ odette ] : but i think it’s more than that. i always have.[ ✉ odette ] : have a good day.

☁    for a message not meant for you

[ ✉ odette ] : he’s not stupid, you pathetic roach.[ ✉ odette ] : he knows more about what really matters than anyone could ever hope to know about anything. have you ever thought about good he must be? for his first reaction to ugly situations is to cry and ask for it to be better?[ ✉ odette ] : don’t look at him. don’t talk to him. you’re wasted on the likes of him.

☂    for a scared/concerned message

[ ✉ odette ] : you know that night we stayed up? and i told you everything?[ ✉ odette ] : and i was so sure i’d hate myself for telling you all of it, that i’d regret it. but i just felt - relieved. like i could finally breathe again.[ ✉ odette ] : i’m scared i won’t be able to do it again.

[scsungki-blog]

@shinuuiih

there’s too many kinds of chaos to lose oneself to in the thick of the night, and sungki had been tasked with choosing one to celebrate uui’s latest commission. obviously there would no expense spared in their outing, not when it came to one of his longest lasting friendships - and it was strange, to think that he of all people could maintain something so closely associated with normalcy, this bond laden with warmth and loyalty. he would never dare to underestimate it, or take it for granted - as cold as he was, as cruel as he could be, he would never be fool enough to do that.

he chooses a spot that deals in expensive, fine liquor but is informal enough to have a dance floor sequestered off from plush, velvet seats and cool tables. seldom was he ever uncomfortable in any extreme, either in the raucous bedlam of a house party after midnight or in the subtle disquiet of a tiny bar whose patrons simply drank and ruminated - so long as he wasn’t bored. boredom was dangerous.

but he’s anything but bored as he strides towards the bartender, his fingers wrapped around uui’s wrist, his lips lifted into a faint smirk. he laid several hefty wons on the bar and his own credit card - “for your troubles. do not serve this man if he comes to you asking to open a tab on his card - we’re celebrating his personal victory and he has no business paying for anything.” he shot uui a faint smile, rare in its warmth. he had paid for several round of shots already, the liquid poison settling nicely in the pit of his stomach. “isn’t that right?”

[scsungki-blog]

© UNPHYSICAL | Do not edit

[scsungki-blog]

✉↻✖❤❧☀ ☁☂

✉  for a 2 am message

[ ✉ hyungsik] : are you still awake?[ ✉ hyungsik] :  i’m in the mood to say some terrible things and have terrible things said unto me.[ ✉ hyungsik] : let’s be terrible together. there’s no one better.

↻  for a unsent message

[ ✉ hyungsik] : if i could stay the way you see me, forever, then i’d be a happy man for once.[ ✉ hyungsik] : tell me if there’s anything i could do that would change the way you see me and i’ll never do it.[ ✉ hyungsik] : i don’t ever want to ruin your image of me. 

✖  for a angry/threatening message

[ ✉ hyungsik] : hello, sweets.[ ✉ hyungsik] : you won’t have to worry about the little lemming who keeps bothering you anymore. rodents are easily spooked, as it were.[ ✉ hyungsik] : he politely agreed not to say a single word. how about a drink to celebrate? i’ll get your favorite bottle.

❤  for a loving/affectionate message

[ ✉ hyungsik] : is that the new suit you bought with me last saturday?[ ✉ hyungsik] : what a sight for sore eyes.[ ✉ hyungsik] : per your wishes, i’m trying my best to restrain myself and refrain from saying anything provocative out loud, because you insist on being a killjoy.[ ✉ hyungsik] : so i’ll just text it. [ ✉ hyungsik] : that tie you picked complements your blooming face nicely. looks like someone just bit the flesh of your cheeks.   

❧  for a drunk message

[ ✉ hyungsik] : i never told this to u before[ ✉ hyungsik] : but im[ ✉ hyungsik] : terrified of disappointing you. its like with my parents but worse  [ ✉ hyungsik] : because yuo actually give a shit about me beyond what i can add to your reputation[ ✉ hyungsik] : ill never let mysfle be weak in front of you[ ✉ hyungsik] : i decided that as soon as i met you

☀  for a morning message

[ ✉ hyungsik] : i dreamed about ripping apart those investment brokers who were fool enough to think they could touch you with their grimy paws.[ ✉ hyungsik] : it was a nice dream. [ ✉ hyungsik] : we smoked those cigars my father gifted me on top of their bodies.

☁    for a message not meant for you

[ ✉ hyungsik] : you’re pitiful. a worm waiting to be plucked by vultures who have grown tired of corpses.[ ✉ hyungsik] : if you think you can rise above that by usurping a man leagues above you, then you’re even more delusional than i took you for.[ ✉ hyungsik] : talk to hyungsik one more time and i’ll make sure the only time anyone ever says your name is to spit it into the ground.

☂    for a scared/concerned message

[ ✉ hyungsik] : you’ve been quiet this morning. are you alright?[ ✉ hyungsik] : a little birdie told me you’re feeling ill - i hope you’re not being a fool and staying put in bed rather than pushing yourself to work.[ ✉ hyungsik] : hyungsik? take your temperature and tell me what it says.[ ✉ hyungsik] : i’m coming over.  

[scsungki-blog]

ihyoongi:

(...)

as soon as he was in front of him, without hesitation, he started talking. “why don’t you fight, if you’re going to be here this often?” now that he was closer, yoongi was sure that his instincts were right. he couldn’t tell if he was imagining it, but it felt like there was something different, almost unsettling about the other, and his excitement only built.

for the debauched and nefarious and divine, boredom was a dangerous thing, and it came easily to those who seemed to exist on a plane of reality separate from the others. at a certain point, drinking lost its appeal, manufactured highs became tiresome, and he grew hungry for a greater game, a thrill to rival all others.

it always led him to the same place: the fight club. he never cared to fight (his preferred warfare to wage was of a subtler nature, venom words and machiavellian machinations), that wasn’t the high he wanted. but to watch man’s primality break through its thin veil of civility in a flurry of fists and sprays of blood was a special kind of rush that harkened him back like a siren call every time the days became a little too mundane. what his idea of leisure said about him as a persona and his tastes, he didn’t know, nor would he be shocked if it spoke to some kind of voyeuristic depravity. he simply had stopped caring long ago.

his favorite fighter was clear - dark eyes followed yoongi as he weaved and pummeled, dancing his own brutal waltz to the beat of a war drum, his chest pounding, his veins thrumming with revelation - watching anyone else was simply a more tepid affair. often, he simply left once the fight was over and the excitement had died down - seldom did he bet, he didn’t have much to gain from undergraduate students’ meager betting pool. but today had been different - on a whim, he humored the boy who saw his gold cuffs and tom fords and goaded him into chipping in - not even an hour later his arms were full of crumpled wads of cash, to his own indifference.

he saw yoongi approach from the corner of his eye, still bleeding and bloody, like a harbinger, and all plans of leaving quietly were laid to waste as the corners of his lips upturned. the boy was straightforward, blunt, as expected of an underground warrior, and sungki couldn’t help but but admire his honesty, couldn’t help but be endeared by it. normally he presented an image of careful charm to strangers, but why bother when it was clear yoongi wasn’t interested in it?

“not interested in the view from inside the ring, i’m afraid. it’d be a bit like watching a star explode from inside the core for me - why bother when the sight is far better from afar? especially when you’ve got enough talent and sinew for the both of us.” dark eyes followed the tiny trail of blood trickling down from yoongi’s mouth. held up his wad of winnings. “here. isn’t it only fair if the victor was the one to receive his winnings?”

start from zero

[scsungki-blog]

i choose all of them, thank you

✉  for a 2 am message

[ ✉ uui ] : it’s too late in the night and i’m feeling restless again, like i’m walking through drudge and mud. [ ✉ uui ] : why do i feel like this? like i’m on the cusp of becoming ungovernable when i’m bored.[ ✉ uui ] : let’s go somewhere. i don’t care where. let’s go to the beach again.

↻  for a unsent message

[ ✉ uui ] : i still don’t understand how someone like you can stick with someone like me for so long. [ ✉ uui ] : maybe i’m lucky. maybe you’re just stupid.[ ✉ uui ] : either way, i’m grateful. 

✖  for a angry/threatening message

[ ✉ uui ] : those vultures and asskissers trying to mooch off you and your family can go die in a ditch.[ ✉ uui ] : until then, i did a fine job scaring one off.[ ✉ uui ] : it wasn’t entirely selfless. i was sick of seeing the kid’s face every time i tried to talk to you.

❤  for a loving/affectionate message

[ ✉ uui ] : bought your hipster ass some old records i saw when i was on my way to pick us up our coffee. black coffee and milk in separate cups, right?[ ✉ uui ] : it still surprises me that i could know anyone as well as i know you. you just have that way about you, i guess.

❧  for a drunk message

[ ✉ uui ] : i just told somone ur the pinnacle of gallantry and beauty and that i once saw u rescuing a puppy from the middle of a busy street[ ✉ uui ] : donnt ever say i’m a mediocre hypeman

☀  for a morning message

[ ✉ uui ] : morning, princess. how’s the hangover treating you?[ ✉ uui ] : just so you know, everyone saw you begging me to carry you home. dunno if you care - i didn’t.

☁    for a message not meant for you

[ ✉ uui ] : meet me at my place, thirty minutes. [ ✉ uui ] : i was thinking about our rendezvous in the bathroom of the grand hyatt and got… nostalgic.(…)[ ✉ uui ] : wrong person.

☂    for a scared/concerned message

[ ✉ uui ] : did you go home with someone? i’ve been looking for you the past twenty minutes. [ ✉ uui ] : call me if you need me to pick you up. [ ✉ uui ] : tell me you’re okay.

[scsungki-blog]

❧

[❧ for a drunk message ]

[✉ mars ] i like the taste of blood, as long as it’s someone else’s that im tasting. why, u offering?

[scsungki-blog]

Hello, everyone! It’s been a week since we’ve opened, so we’ve decided to throw a casual, fun text meme for you to play with.

Just two things before we get started: Make sure to be inclusive and send memes to others if they’ve also reblogged this, and please note that text memes do not count for activity.

Otheriwse, go ahead and reblog this, have fun, and meme away!

Send ✉ for an 2 am message Send ↻ for an unsent message Send ✖ for an angry/threatening message Send ❤ for a loving/affectionate message Send ❧ for a drunk message Send ☀ for a morning message Send ☁ for a message not meant for you Send ☂ for a scared/concerned message

cr: roleplayermemes

[scsungki-blog]

ihsunmi:

Sunmi’s 12 when she discovers how much she loves rooftops. It’s Christmas at her grandparents’ mansion and everyone spends the night praising her older sister for getting accepted to Seoul National University while she stands quietly in the corner. That night, she climbs onto the roof and forgets about how incapable she feels. Rooftops became her safe haven. From the top, she can see everything, she can see what others can’t.

It’s not often she invites others up to her safe haven, the place she sits in relaxation and just watches, but Sungki is an exception - a little bit of her past she doesn’t regret reliving. Maybe because he knows her, understands her in a way that she doesn’t find in everyone, and sometimes she just needs to feel understood, empathized with. Opening up has always been difficult, and she doesn’t like letting go of the people who get to see beneath her normal exterior.

The last few drops of her wine are drained before she slips a small plastic baggie from the pocket of her maroon kimono and waves it in his direction. “Pick your poison~” For herself, it’s a small tab that disappears between her bright red lips. With a relaxed sigh she tips her head backwards, dark hair spilling off her shoulders as she smiles in his direction. “So what are you escaping from tonight?”

lingering, echoing sentiments and feelings are easier to deal with when one’s laden with modern poisons, and it’s why it’s easy to drink and imbibe when he’s around her. things are a little easier around her, and it’s hard to forget it unless he’s fucked up in some way, shape or form - so he drinks sip after sip, consumes and consumes until he forgets he’s supposed to be anything but honest. maybe there’s credence to what people say about cutting ties with past relationships, that perhaps it was healthier, but sungki was nothing if not a controlled mess of contradictions. he hated his parents but basked in their approval, to linger in sentiment was weakness and yet, here he was, for what was perhaps the fourth or fifth time this month reclining on her patio, waiting patiently for what she had to offer.

he takes the second tab in the baggy and he waits.

“next week i’ve got to go to a gala my parents are throwing for their high society friends,” he drawls with a slight roll of his eyes. “thought i’d get my mind off having to spending time with them before i actually do, maybe lose myself in a hallucination. or a dream.” he’s silent for a little longer as the world gets a little lighter, a little warmer, languid mirages doting his vision as his skin prickles with heat. he watches her hair billow in the breeze, the column of white that is her neck, and without meaning to, reaches out to touch her nape. “what’re you escaping from?”

[scsungki-blog]

he makes breathing look good