ex-yfxjihae-blog - Tumblr blog

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note: so guys, i just messaged the admins, but i’m going to be dropping jihae. i’m struggling with her muse and keeping her threads. i will be keeping uisoo and woosun. so i’m not going anywhere. don’t fret. ^^~

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the amount of tiny respect that min seemed to give gain and it was for her eyeliner. truly unbelievable how childish the other could be at times. not that jihae was any better if she were honest with herself. “only her eyeliner? do you want me to ask her for tips for you?” she teases her male friend, words cooed in a playful voice as she arches her brow. there’s so little that she could do but to perpetuate the cycle of dislike that gain and min shared for one another. it was cute to her. park jihae thought the whole disagreement between the two music teachers was cute. she would relish every chance she could to delight in the spectacle of it.

her body sinking down onto the bed beside him and having to stifle a laugh at gain being called a troll. one hand stretched out to smack him upside the head. “you can’t talk shit about my unnie in front of me, not like that.” no matter what happened between min and gain, jihae would defend the older woman to the best of her ability. troll was harsh. eyeliner was not so much. she glances at the movie that’s started to play, smiling at the sight of the cliched beginning scenes. this looked terrible and terribly perfect. once more she reached out to smack his arm this time. “unnie is prettier than most women. don’t even lie, min.”

jihae selected a chocolate bar, tearing it open with her teeth, and beginning to pull the plastic away so she could bite at it and slump back on the bed next to min. there’s a brief silence, before she turns her head to look over at min. “but are you certain you don’t like unnie? i mean.. you could like her and i wouldn’t blame you. i’d make out with her if she was into that,” she offered, wondering if she could get the male to confess to some underlying crush that he had. though not expecting him to do much but make disgusted noises.

— xoxo gossip girl / min&jihae

[ ... ] Sure, he had heard rumors floating around about this supposed affair between Gain and himself, and instead of it making him angry, he honestly thought it to be hilarious. The kids at Sunhwa certainly had quite an imagination, but he had never thought Jihae would fall into that particular rumor mill. 

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“no, just easy to manipulate,” jihae blithely replies, lips tugged into a smirk as she glances across at her fellow art teacher. it’s not as if she didn’t agree that he was a gentleman -- he might have been under that rebel without a cause, idiot who doesn’t know picasso persona that he had. a new age gentleman, not the type who opens the doors and carries a handkerchief around in case she cries. but she wasn’t going to give him a fraction of a compliment. the conversation as they ate remained in that same at ease and casual pace that jihae liked to have with him. nothing serious and nothing lingered on longer than necessary.

even while he denied being the starter of the rumour, jihae chose to eye him with suspicious and wave her hand in a ‘if you say so’ manner. her gaze lingered over him as he seemed to shiver in repulsion at being called oppa and that only truly made her want to call him oppa every chance she could until he either gave in or got pissed at her for it. “i’m pretty sure if you raised your voice an octave or two, you’d sound just like a teenage girl,” she comments with a shrug of her shoulders and a glint in her eyes. sipping from her drink as she listened to minki try to guess their fellow teachers tastes in the bedroom. her nose crinkled as she shook her head. “min would be into anything as long as it didn’t involved tugging on his hair. i honestly believe he has a head-to-toe leather suit in his closet somewhere.”

the fact that he commented it being high school made her smirk. “oppa, we’re high school teachers,” jihae reminds, tone lit with mocking and she watches him fish out a smoke, light it on his lips. nicotine cravings buzzed and she drinks more of the alochol to erase them; counter productive in the long run. through her high school days, she could have smoked more than a chimney did. this time she scoffs. “i was going to suggest the floor. the chances of you getting in my bed have dropped below zero, oppa.” she continues to drop the title to annoy the other, cooing as she places her drink aside and lets her head cock, glancing around the rest of the bar. “i can find my own cuddle partner. someone at least decently looking.” her insults are tacted with the flick of her tongue and she shrugs in answer. “i honestly think if we lock them in a room, they will have sex. i have a womans intuition.”

{ Matchmakers }

[ ... ]

”What is this? High school?” He scoffs and takes a long sip from his glass of beer before setting it aside on the table and straightening up as he opens his pack of cigarettes and fishes one out, bringing it to his mouth and then lighting it up. He inhales and then slowly release the smoke, turning his head to the side so it doesn’t go in Jihae’s face. “And what makes you think I want them to have sex on my bed? Where would I sleep? Are you going to let me warm a side of your bed? Aww,” he coos teasingly, “did you want a cuddle partner so bad but were too shy to ask so that’s the only way you found?” He chuckles and takes another drag from his cigarette. “But seriously, you think that could work?”

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1600 x 1200

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“are you sure about that, unnie?” the teasing and mocking tone in jihae’s voice comes with a smile, seeing the older girl grumble and pout was cute. if she didn’t have somewhere to be, jihae might have reached out to pull her in and squeeze her for being so utterly adorable. no matter how cool and chic gain could appear, she was as adorable as anyone else. the curve of happiness in her eyes lost when she had to deal with the receptionist. she knew how she could appear when she acted as she did--a princess--but that never stopped her from doing it. play out the role by popular demand.

jihae glanced at gain, smiling wider and nodding her head. “completely thrilled. they anticipate it with racing hearts, unnie.”

when the receptionist returns, her expression steels again. within seconds it was easy to tell she had been scolded by the people above her and was told to let them through immediately. or that’s how jihae imagined it to be. one arm held out to guide them through the door she’d just come from in a meek, ‘this way, please’. a smile on jihae’s lips, straightening the strap of her bag as she listened to gains contemplation. “do four peach and one mint green, it’ll look nice together,” she offers as they’re led into the plain white walls, people walking in uniforms with direction and others wandering in ease dressed in robes. 

“my life? it’s not that exciting,” jihae replies with a shrug of her shoulders, half paying attention to the woman who was pushing open a door to a private executive suite in the far end of the hallways and tucked into seclusion for ‘true relaxation’. “i found out i have a half-brother, i’ve been engaged twice, i lived in new york for a while, and now i’m here -- what about you?” jihae rattles off as she glances around the well decorated room, soft couches, privacy. multiple doors leading to rooms for massages, ones for the mud baths, and whatever else the spa offered. she dropped her handbag down on a seat, finding a bottle of champagne waiting on ice and two glasses already prepared. she takes one without hesitation, sipping and looking at gain. “tell me the juicy details.

* old acquaintances

[ ... ]

Leaning an elbow on the ledge of the desk, Gain gives her an amused, sly smile. “I’m sure they’re always simply thrilled when you walk in, aren’t they?” The women from earlier is quick to pitter pat back, the aloofness gone as she tread with caution around them, letting them know she would help settle them in. “I think I’m gonna do peach,” she was still trying to decide on a color, even now. “Wait, catch me up on your exciting life. It’ll probably take me a while to really choose a polish…”

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“you aren’t that stupid? we better alert the rest of the school, in case they didn’t know. you’ve fooled us so well.” jihae couldn’t help herself, voice rising octaves in playful mock surprise and even placed a hand to her chest with the act. a part of her wondered if the man was going to know she was teasing him or not. she rarely meant anything she said, so she liked to believe they would realize that she was only joking no matter what she said. a giggle bubbling up as she finished her game, when she gathered the wine glasses for them to use. since there was only one bottle, she doubted min wanted to pass it around like teenagers.

the clink of their glasses singled her to drink, bringing the glass to her lips and sipping the wine. a smile on her lips when min began to choke on her joke. a laugh slipped out as she headed for the mini-fridge. the door tugged open as she listened to him ramble on about something gain had done to annoy him. her arm soon filled with chocolates and nuts and whatever else she could pluck from the depths of the fridge. “i know you’re going to be mad, but i think gain unnie was right,” jihae offered in a soft tone, as if he might end up more pissed off by her siding with her friend.

her bed was soon covered with foods as she released her arms, dropping them onto the sheets and then sipping from her wine again. only now did she sink down on the edge of the bed, brows arched and looking over at min. “are you sure you’re not just disagreeing with her because you think she looks cute when shes mad at you?” her voice was low, suggestive as she leaned in to studying his reaction. “it happens all the time. men are useless with this stuff. pull our hair before they’ll compliment us.”

— xoxo gossip girl / min&jihae

[ ... ] He took another sip and another, nodding in agreement to her plans. Bad horror movies and good chocolate were the way to his heart. At her third suggestion however, he nearly choked on the wine as it went down his throat. He couldn’t believe that they were about to talk about that… witch with a capital B. “You know?” he began, “That old fart yelled at me for saying that broccioli was pasta. I mean, anything ending in -ioli is pasta, it’s common sense, y’know.”

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“you’re about the only man i know who thinks that is the most important part,” jihae teases the music teacher, amused and wondering if he’s suddenly going to change his mind on protecting his eyebrows when there was something lower and usually more important to the other males around her. it doesn’t take much for her nose to crinkle, imagining herself bald like the it technician and feeling her stomach twist at the thought. “you do that and no one will find the thousand pieces of your body that i throw in the han river,” her threat was hardly a joke. jihae was not going to be bold, never. she would rather die or be locked up for murder than live without her hair.

while min fumbled with the remote and began to try to fix the television for her, jihae moved for the find two glasses from the cupboard in the area where she could make tea and coffee -- a requirement for her. her fingers around the stems of them as she made her way back to the bed. “he always has time for me,” jihae replies, winking playfully and holding out the glasses towards him. “and i don’t have time to wait, so wine me up.” there’s a sense of pride with how much she could drink, and she clinked the glasses playfully together. a smile on her lips as she looked at min. “we should find some terrible horror movies to watch and i’ve seen some nice chocolates in the fridge. and you can tell me all about this thing you have with gain-unnie.”

— xoxo gossip girl / min&jihae

[ ... ] “Chisoo-ssi,” he mocked in a sing-song voice as he fumbled around with the remote. He definitely had a way with band equipment, but Min wasn’t a techie. However, he had had the same problem in his own room. After a few more button pushes, he had managed to bring up a menu on the screen. “There,” he said satisfactorily before remarking, “Park Chisoo doesn’t have time to help you catch up on the Kardashians.”

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in the back of jihae’s mind, she knew the plan in the back of her mind was dimming. his fingers against her, sending rushes of heat up through her abdomen and leaving a simmer, burning through her skin. more than once her hips rise up, satiating the craving and finding herself completely unsatisfied by minki’s lack of aid in her current predicament. her breathing growing shallow, laboured, as she smirks, lips twisting into a teasing smile. an airy and quiet laugh on her lips, silenced with a hum as she nods her head. “i want a man who can control himself until i completely ruin any control he has -- it’s more fun when its a game,” jihae replies with a shrug of her shoulders, grazing her fingers up along minki’s forearm and rolling herself up into his touch more, as if to prove how far she would go with this play.

jihae’s lashes flutter, lips turned downwards with disappointment as his hand leaves a rush of cold air along the inside of her thighs. but that becomes shock, wide eyes as he handles her, grabs her, moves her where he wants. she attempts to help him, but only little; much preferring the way his hands are on her and letting him position her on top of him. her lips covet a smile when she looks down at him, but there’s a throw of hesitation in her mind -- this was not the plan, this was not the plan, this was not the plan -- and that rush of thoughts quicken when her stomach flushes at his touch, her thighs tensing and her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. this was definitely not the fucking plan.

a whimper is elicited when there’s skin to skin, one of her hands reaching out to find an anchor in the bed frame and she glances down at him. her chest rising and falling with anticipation that he was building against her will. where was that pillow to smother him with? jihae didn’t know if she was fighting him as much as she was convincing herself that she was; after the kiss in the restaurant, his hands on her and now this -- she had to swallow down her pride to realize how much she was enjoying the moment. that when her eyes looked down at him, they were dark with want. her lips parted with a gasp when he slipped a finger into her, moaning softly and pressing for more. 

( she tried to side note that she would get to the plan after )

but she was never that good at following a plan anyway, never good at stopping herself when something felt good. rapid beats of her heart, the fluctuating shifts of her breathing and the moans that slipped around as minki moved and curled and slipped deeper inside her. “fuck..” jihae curses under her breath, unable to fight the move closer, not when she’s curious and expecting for what he would do next. as soon as his tongue was against her, as soon as she felt him suck, she knew she was screwed. one hand reached down to curl in his dark strands, hips rocking in for more and moaning louder, having to bite down to contain herself.

“you’re such an asshole, minki, really,” jihae knows she doesn’t sound mad; annoyed, frustrated, aroused. even her voice was low and lacking in strength. every inch of her body was betrayer her, the damned thing, and he was only helping the traitorous part of her. fingers stretching, reaching, coiling in more of his hair. “i’m going to kill you,” she threatens, breathless; abdomen tense and thighs twitching to close more on him. unable to decide if it’s to keep him there or to stop him; likely the former. 

{ The art of lying }

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What the hell are you doing in the executive kitchen?

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What does it matter how many lovers you have if none of them gives you the universe?

Jacques Lacan (via thelovejournals)

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if one did not get drunk on a staff mt, one did not deserve to come on said mt -- those words had come from jihae’s mouth more than once since the mt had been announced and she would proudly fulfill them any day. the best thing was that minki had come, and he was easily the best person to go get drunk with. she trusted him enough not to do anything if she had too much and she could dump him in the middle of the street if he had too much ( not that she would, but she’d threaten so ). her elbow rested on the table as she studied the menu, tapping her nails on the list of foods. “you would be paying for me even if you didn’t offer,” she answers with a smug smile on her lips.

jihae had happily filled her stomach when the food had arrived, washing it down with soju--one after the other--until a couple bottles had stacked up. the chopsticks still in her hand as she scratched the bottom of the plate, licking the left over sauce off the tips of the chopsticks and glancing across at minki as he spoke. a laugh immediately trickling from jihae’s lips as she nodded in agreement.

“so you’re the on who started that rumour! who knew you were such a gossip, oppa.” she teased him, waving her chopsticks in his direction and giving up on the plan to clean the whole bowl with her chopsticks. her hair brushed from her shoulder as she leaned back, glancing out over the scenery and pushing her lips together. “but hate sex is some of the best sex -- all clothes ripping off and shoving against the walls,” jihae adds as a side comment, finding her gaze attracted to the pack of cigarettes and trying to ignore the craving.

“maybe we should just lock them in a room and see what happens,” she suggests with a shrug of her shoulders. her fingers curled on the base of her glass, tracing the edges before she lifts it up to take a mouthful. jihae rarely spaced her drinking or ever cared to. if she was going to have alcohol, then she was going to have it; none of this watered down to stay sober plans. she swallows it down, grinning mischievously. “your rooms probably the better choice, i don’t want them having sex on my bed.”

{ Matchmakers }

[ ... ]

”…okay, but listen. I have this theory that this whole rivalry between them is just a front. They probably pretend to hate each other to hide the fact that in reality, they just want to get in each other’s pants.” He brings his glass up and takes a sip. He’s been trying to drink relatively slowly, taking some glasses of water in between so he could continue drinking into the late hours.

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the strokes to jihae’s ego came easily when she was the rope in a tug-o-war between the two music department teachers. who didn’t want two adults fighting for their attention? jihae certainly didn’t have a problem with it and relished in the way min insisted on securing her time later that evening. there was nothing that was going to stop jihae who smiled in agreement. time with min was always relaxing and filled with giggling -- mostly because the gossip that swam around sunhwa might have only gotten funnier with maturity. not that jihae planned to share how there were plenty about min and gain going around. from being mortal enemies to wanting one another, to secretly dating but pretending to hate one another to hide it. ah, gossip. what would one do without it?

jihae had happily spent the day, swimming, shopping, having fun -- because she could have fun anywhere and gyeonggi-do was no exception to the rule. fun which she had to wash off, which was why she was drying her hair with a towel when she heard the knock at the door. already dressed in the light pink flannel pyjamas for the evening as she tried to squeeze the last of the water out of her hair. the threat made her laugh to herself, dropping the towel aside in the bathroom and heading for the door.

“you’d be drunk before you finished it all and pass out, then i’d have fun waxing your eyebrows right off,” is how jihae greets him in the doorway, pushing it open completely to let him in and stepping away without waiting. “you can be bold like chisoo-ssi,” she adds with a smirk, plucking the remote from the bed and prodding at the buttons. yet, nothing in the television changed and instead was stuck on the hotel greeting station. her brow crinkled as she held it out towards min in seconds. her lips puckered into a pout and lashes fluttering. “and fix this before you get drunk. the stupid thing is broken and i’m about to throw it out of the window.”

— xoxo gossip girl / min&jihae

He wasn’t all opposed to a free vacation. He even went as far as to feel as if it were his right, after dealing with Sunhwa’s rich brats for so much time. He had grumbled the whole time at the train station, frankly, 8AM was an unholy hour to be somewhere by but he had managed to find a Starbucks (he really was desperate) to obtain his much needed caffeine fix. His hopes to sit by his favorite coworker had been shot by his fellow music department teacher. As much as he loved his gossip buddy who taught fine arts, it was a major inconvenience that she was also friends with his sworn enemy fellow music teacher. He had been tempted to challenge Gain to kai, bai, bo to see who’d sit with Jihae on the train ride, but he had let it go in exchange for sipping at his coffee and listening to music by himself en route to Gyeonggi-do.  He had decidedly told Jihae, pointedly in front of Gain, as they unloaded their luggage from the train, that that night was reserved for Min and Jihae. Which was why he was standing in front of her door later that day, bottle of rosé in hand. He had stocked up on sheet masks from The Face Shop the previous day, eagerly awaiting the first night in a long time him and his favorite gossip buddy would be able to spend an evening together doing their favorite things.  He moved his arm up to knock on her door, clad in fancy sweatpants and a tank top, as he called to her, “If you don’t open this door, I’m going to have to drink all this wine myself.”

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|150430| Davichi’s Kang Min-Kyung; Orange Play Concert © Girls Grapher

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a lonely uneasy figure, standing smaller than jihae remembered him to be -- that was how she saw yongha in her doorway. it was as if he anchored clouds of uneasiness, dragging them into the room with him and then locking them in with the close of her classroom door. with ease she could could read and sense that he was not used to this, and there was hints of pride for her. she’d been putting males on edge during her teen years, but then she remembered this was her student and she should hve been aiding him, not tearing him down. something she reminded herself of as she followed his movements towards the tripod easel, keeping her distance from him to allow him space to get himself prepared. jihae knew how it was to share a piece of herself, anxiety riddled breaths that prickle in the depths of your lungs and restlessly linger in the fingertips. her fingers straightened out the waist of her button up shirt as she tried to keep herself from crossing her arms and remain open to what he was going to present. no matter how much she attempted to appear open, she was taken off-guard when yongha stepped away from art work. nothing could have hinted that yongha would do what he did -- most boys painted cool cars or sharks or boobs. her lips parted softly, swinging her arms to tuck behind her back as her gaze glanced from the teen boy to the art piece while he explained what he’d done.

it was different; unique. very few students bothered to think outside the box on what they could use to create art. she didn’t truly care whether they used paint or not, that wasn’t the point -- it was about finding out what worked for them, what they could do, what they liked to do, what tool allowed them to open themselves up. for jihae, it had been the brush. and for yongha, it seemed to be make-up. she nodded in small motions, letting him know she was listening as he explained himself. the difficult part was trying to remain impartial, to retain the comments she had, whether good or bad. her fingers grazed down her own arm, wrapping around his wrist and tilting her head, looking over the piece again. she waited for his silence, for him to trail off before she swallowed to clear her own throat. this was when she finally drew her gaze to him. “it’s good. her face is well defined,” she reached out to motion over the features. “you used your tools well, made it appealing to look out and interesting to think about. someone would look at this piece and wonder how they could do it -- or how they could do it better.” there was a secondary glance, thinking for seconds. “the shading is impressive,” jihae admits, focusing on the piece and not the artist. it was easier. it allowed her to focus. instead of thinking about how she felt about yongha, about her father, about her family. she detached herself through it. it’s why she spent hours in art galleries, surrounding herself with beautiful things instead of the ugly truths of reality.

“but you didn’t tell me why you painted this. why paint this girl. why paint her this way. it’s good that you found an extension of yourself, your tool. something that you can express yourself with -- but what are you expressing? or is it just pretty?” this was when jihae looked at yongha, took him in as student, as her half-brother, as the replacement. a reflex that trickled down, making her step back away from the piece. yongha had tried hard to do this. she could tell. she could read it in his exhaustion. she could feel it in his nerves. she didn’t understand why; what his game was. “what am i supposed to feel when i look at this piece? did you think about that?” jihae asks him. she needed to find a flaw suddenly, to find something that she could point at. something to remind him that she was in control and would not be won over completely by one simple piece. if he tried this hard, if he came through with his word -- maybe she was being cruel to him by rejecting him, by making him jump through hoops, and that was difficult to swallow down for her. but the last thing she wanted to be was easy, to be foolish, to be tricked. 

⇡  BEST TO YOU

[ ... ] 

Once he had explained everything around his piece for the exam Yongha fell silent, for once at an honest loss of words. No small talk in the world could save him from the agony of waiting for a verdict, so he remained quiet. To be on the safe side he reached out to carefully hold onto the highest part of the tripod for support. He was deadly tired, and he feared that once he knew whether or not he’d pass her class he’d have to take a seat – because that’s about how much energy he could muster right now, with stars dancing in his peripheral vision. Instead he kept on hoping that what he had done was enough, that he was enough. That she’d throw him a bone at least once. 

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버벌진트 (Verbal Jint) - 진실게임 (True or False)  

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no matter how much minki tries to appear unaffected by her, jihae can feel the pressure against her leg and she knows precisely what she’s doing to him. which why she remains unperturbed by his laughter, and only reflects the acknowledgement by adding that bit more strength in her movements, wanting minki to know that she knows; he’s completely aroused and her leg could so easily slip to make him pay for mocking her how he was. but that bubble of hidden annoyance simmers less when his hand distracts her from her thoughts, lashes nearly touching her cheeks as she looks down at that wandering digits. jihae bites her lips for real this time, unable to deny that she was being affected.

it was worse for her -- he was being a completely and utter tease, taking his damned time and making her mind run with the thousand things that could and might happen. “oh really?” she tries to ignore the hand for the sake of the verbal sparring. if she could anchor her attention on that instead of his hand slipping down, the heat beginning to flood through her abdomen, the instinct to let her legs sink that fraction more apart to allow his hand -- she could win. or she could not, with the way she has to bite back the tiniest noise of pleasure that tried to escape the back of her throat. asshole, cussed in the back of her mind, and she doesn’t know if its because hes touching her or because hes not touching her enough yet.

jihae licks her lips as she draws a hand up his arm, fingertips tracing along his shoulder and up into the dark strands of his hair. eyes firmly holding on him above her. the lithe digits curl, tugging minki in that fraction closer and leaning up only slightly to close the space between her mouth and his ear. “i want to tie you down to this bed, and tease you until you beg me and then ride you so tortuously slowly that you’ll break freak in frustration and make me pay for it,” she whispers--breathes--against his ear and can’t contain the smile as she sinks back. 

“but i don’t know if you can do that.”

she taunts him as her hand runs down his arm, fingers grazing over the back of his hand until her smaller ones are over his. her head angles, glancing over him, over their hands between her legs and back up to him. it’s brazenness that makes her apply pressure, guide his fingers into the contours, wanting him to feel the wetness that seeps through the fabric. this time she lets the noise escape, a soft whimper as she raises her hips into it. a wrinkle in her nose as she breaths out more teasing. “you’re touching me like you’re a teenage boy. one who is probably too immature to let me be on top.”

{ The art of lying }

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