FALLOUT

You will always remember what you were doing when it hurt the most.

[opheire-blog]

ahhh the end of an era!! it’s been a good one. this was my first krp in years and i’m so glad to have had the chance to write in the same comm as all of you.  ♡ ♡ ♡

i’ve moved two of my original characters at youth fossils over to knowwhere, @kwjaeyoung​ and @kwsulli​. but lesson learned after eight months, i won’t be biting off more than i can chew. things have settled in some ways, but there’s still a lot of uncertainty in my life rn (*cue existential dread of early twenty-somethings*). might be moving to the usa at the start of the year if things go well!

but i’m gonna keep writing baby princess on the side!! yfxaegi -> @opheire to reflect that new ~indie status. off the top of my head for who i know is sticking around, @yfxjiyong @yfxsowon @yfxjihoon @yfxhaeri, we can continue threads or start new plots yeah? and anyone else still keeping their characters, lmk xoxo.

p.s. my aim is @ lullatunes feel free to hmu

[gainkw]

out the box, out of line.

[opheire-blog]

yfxgain:

[ ... ]

“Ohh, shit.” There she was. Aegi Gongju. The now very stressed teacher tried to move over the younger girl’s body, almost tripping on her sheets as she clambered out of bed. Pulling her dress back down to her thighs, she groaned and had to sit back down on the floor. The dehydration and fatigue hitting her hard as the morning light filtered through her light drapes. “Jesus Christ.”

morning infringes too quickly: dull headache, residual nausea, mouthful of sand. she turns her face into the pillow, then to the side, eyes open an unwilling fraction—only enough to frame the face of her partner in misery, visible from the nose up at the edge of the bed. her eyeliner’s only one casualty of the night. 

the quiet extends for some time before she summons the energy to break it.

"ssaem." the hitch in her voice a wisp of laughter. “do i get demerit points if i puke on your bed?”

she registers her hand tucked under her chest, the texture of fabric on her palm. her body is dead weight, the feeling almost water-logged. mush. she turns on her side to cast a cursory glance down her body. status update: strange apartment and no recollection of getting there, but she's not naked. so there’s a that. a marked improvement already—new year, new aegi.

“how did we even get back here?” her voice is low, half-muffled, words dragged out as if from the bottom of a well. she's riding on the assumption that this is familiar territory, eyes sweeping the room. “this is your apartment, right?”

april 2016.

[xkwhaesoo-deactivated20161214]

^ Tᴜʀɴ Dᴏᴡɴ Fᴏʀ Wʜᴀᴛ

@yfxaegi

Five p.m.

Haesoo very gingerly adjust the towels over his eyes, before shuffling to get more comfortable in his sunbed. His tan line is going to be uneven, but the rocking of the boat and the quiet rolling of the waves has him lulled into a half-sleep, too relaxed to care.

Aegi is hard to miss - there’s something awful in the air long before he hears the click of her shoes.

Here we go again.

Lifting the edge of the towel, he glances at the twin glasses in her hands, eyes narrowed. It’s too damn bright. “Is that alcoholic?”

[opheire-blog]

Five p.m.

A full four hours before things are officially set to start, and five or six before it actually does. Fashionably late is simply a default time of arrival. The group on the yacht is small, a leisurely extended day of lounging and pre-drinking. A fifth glass of Dom is nothing when the first came as a mimosa at ten a.m.

“No, it’s club soda.”

She raises an eyebrow, the droll tone of her voice a perfect medium for sarcasm. Handing one champagne flute to him, she stretches out on the reclining beach chair beside him, flipping Chanel sunglasses over her head. 

“Birthday girl’s taking a break.”

august 2016.

[opheire-blog]

ooc update

i’ve finally moved out of the House of Horrors and just finished the bulk of the work i need to do on my art project SO i’m off hiatus!! will be getting up to speed on everything in the next few days and doing a bit of a revamp. it’s a really, really hectic time of the year for me, and probably is for a lot of you too. take care of yourselves!!!

[opheire-blog]

doppelgänger

[yfxjiyong]

( he’s slower than usual, thoughts drawling out like a slow haze. it takes a moment of soft lips against his to put two-and-two together: that the mouth against his most definitely does not belong to who he wants thinks it belongs to. still, he finds it hard to move– hard to do anything with his hands raised at arms beside him; in surrender ) ( look, he’s not saying he likes kissing random strangers. but it’s not the worst thing he’s ever done. except, said “random stranger” is now ripping their lips apart, and her voice filters through the small space, leaving kang ji yong at a standstill )

(  oh  )

(  shit  )

( and song aegi gongju is laughing, practically keeling over in her strappy dress as she looks at him. he’s got his fucking ass on the line– but there’s also his pride, flaring up as he clenches his jaw ) are you finished? ( here come the dramatics: ji yong clears his throat with a click of his tongue, straightening the tie that had almost oh god come undone ) i’m glad that this is funny to you but i don’t appreciate being man-handled like that ( he’s got to place blame somewhere, right? so jaewook hyung doesn’t come for blood for the witch hunt that’s bound to happen… he’s fucked )    

[opheire-blog]

( for no reason than to fuck with him—no genuine offense taken to something so trivial—she lets the moment wind a heartbeat before breaking point, discomfort pooling solid between them. the silence speaks itself, eyes narrowed. ) you’re so full of shit, jiyong. ( but the curve of her mouth dissipates the tension. she glances at the exit for a third party, relieved despite herself that no one’s walked in. it’d be a tricky situation to explain, no matter how unlikely. 'you kind of all look alike when you squint’ kind of tricky. ) get over it. actually, consider yourself lucky. what was that, your first kiss? ( she’s grinning again. ) or were you hoping for someone else? ( it’s a blind shot, that it lands a hit only pure coincidence. )

july 2014.

[opheire-blog]

teen dream

[halcywon-blog]

who knew the great and powerful Song Aegi Gongju is able to produce shit out of somewhere other than her mouth?

Sowon cracks a smile for a sliver of a second until her eyes dart to the bathroom door. She sighs. No matter what they say about her being a mind reading sorceress (a more positive thing she’s heard people say about her), there’s no way Aegi could have heard that – not through that thick door and Sowon’s thicker skull.

“Gave what up?”

Her eyes follow the rather amused voice of Aegi and she’s no longer trained on the reflection of herself. Her hand, dusting just a bit more blush, stops and she swivels her chair. The horror – the absolute fucking horror. Oh she gave it up alright – if that ‘it’ meant the pride of finally admitting to her doctor that maybe her mood swings are a little bit wild and that she doesn’t have the flawless skin of a goddess. She remembers whispering a bite me to the doctor and him giving her that smug little, ‘I-told-you-so’ brow raise.

The sound of her brush dropping is loud enough to snap Sowon away from Aegi’s grin and back to her own self. She blinks, eyes watering due to the fact that she’s had it wide open, and shakily picks up her brush. She turns back to her mirror and coughs. Really, there’s nothing wrong with mood swings or a persistent pimple – it’s normal. Maybe if Sowon admits to it with confidence, Aegi wouldn’t completely laugh at her…hopefully.

“Y-Yeah, I gave it up. So what?”

She was never good at putting two and two together.

[opheire-blog]

"Shut up, don’t play dumb.”

The sentence is punctuated with a laugh and a fall, elbows holding her up on Sowon’s pillow, perfectly happy to settle in and grill the fuck out of her for the details. Retail therapy can wait—this is an occasion. White picket fence Sowon with names picked out for her kids, pure as the driven snow, in a relationship that’s practically been a thing since game start. From what she knows, it deadlocked sometime in middle school and hasn’t moved since. Religious reason, maybe? They’d never given off the vibe.

“So? Was it any good? I want the play-by-play Yang Sowon. Hold nothing back.”

Animated, too amused to stay still, she sits up at the edge of the beside her, locking eyes through the vanity mirror. The girl’s pinker than the blush layered over the pallor of her cheeks, heart worn on her sleeve. The two of them are a match in transparency and shamelessness. Blessing or curse, Aegi’s never felt the need to hold herself to any standard of discretion towards her.

“I can’t believe you finally lost it, god it’s been like a million years. You’re practically a unicorn. Okay, okay, Haesoo’s tall as fuck soooooooo,” she drawls, head tilting. “How was his dick? Wasn’t small, right?”

june 2016.

[opheire-blog]

ok but i just gotta ask u what i gotta do for u to shove ur foot down my throat bc im into that

what the fuck fam.

stay away from me, freak.

[caixn-deactivated20180927]

team hbic

( @yfxmiryeo ) ( @yfxsunmi ) ( @yfxaegi ) ( @yfxyang )

( Locker room, hot shower water fog everywhere and the volleyball team girls are together as always. Sid just washed the orange dye off her hair and has a towel wrapped around her body like a cotton slenderman burrito ) … Okay. Who took my deodorant? ( She waves a plain plastic zip lock bag where she keeps all her necessities. Fancy af. She looks at all the other girls feeling hurt. ) It’s lavender you guys. Lavender! 

[opheire-blog]

( / She’s the last out of the shower, exiting in a puff of floral shampoo in time to witness the drama unfold in the locker room. Fingers comb tangles out of wet hair as she walks gingerly across slick tile, wrinkling her nose. ) Gross, who’d use someone else’s deodorant? ( / No one sharing the same showers as her, ideally. ) You probably dropped it somewhere.

[caixn-deactivated20180927]

girl ♀ power

( @yfxaegi )

“YES!” They score another point and Ji high fives Aegi before wiping the sweat under her nose. The adrenaline is pumping so hard Ji can feel the blood rushing in her red ears. She gets the tomato face practicing physical activities, it’s hopeless.

After practice Ji is pretty beat, her side feels like an elephant drop kicked her ribcage, her throat is burning, her shoulder is murdering her, left knee is lead, right knee is jelly but damn, they are good. They are fucking great. No way Sunhwa is not winning championships this year. Of course, great part of that is resting on Ban relentless Korean army discipline and Aegi sunbae’s competitiveness wave pushing the whole team forward. No pain, no gain. Practice is only worth it when you feel like dying and that’s exactly how Ji likes it. 

She limps her way to Aegi, coughing dry (thank God cuz she feels like coughing blood) “Nice play there, you read my mind, sunbae.” Ji wonders sometimes how Aegi manages to look like a glowing goddess after practice while she definitely looks like a sweaty corndog with a ketchup blob for a face.   

[opheire-blog]

She absorbs herself in the immediacy of the moment, movement committed to memory. This is all familiar in a way that’s comforting: wrists burning, throat hoarse, focus turned into tunnel vision. For the hours given over to practice, there’s nothing but the drive to perform better. Everything else is left at the door—at least in theory. If she’s a little more aggressive today than usual, no one has made mention of it.

Training the younger members is the main priority. By now the seniors run like a well-oiled machine, synchronised in an easy rhythm that turns into gold additions to Sunhwa’s awards cabinet, three years running, and she has no intention of leaving the academy with anything less. To say that the competition is friendly wouldn’t be entirely accurate, but bad blood is an excellent motivator.

“You too. I can’t wait to make those Whimoon assholes cry.”

Grinning, she throws an arm around Ji’s waist—with her height, reaching her shoulder is no easy task.

“Getting a little out of shape, Gan?” she teases, breathless herself as they slip into the locker room.

[gainkw]

out the box, out of line.

[gainkw]

The concept of time was lost on her now. Even the beats of the music melded together and she couldn’t be sure where one song started getting mixed it and when it started to fade out. She didn’t know how long she was up there on the platform, but it was either two minutes or two years and somehow both made sense. All she knew was someone was tugging on her arm and it was then that she finally noticed how tired of dancing she was. 

For having started at Sunhwa only this school year, Gain was pretty proud that most of the student body had a face and name in her memory. But this was a new test: would she remember who this was in her current, very drunken state? It took a moment for her, staring in that young, fierce face, with perfect hair, and probably the most expensive setting powder, because this girl’s make up was somehow flawless. “Sssssssong Aegi? Yeah, it.. it.. it’s fun!” It came out so slurred and choppy all at once, it was a wonder words came out intelligible at all. 

“Why are you h-here? When they said they invited all of the house, did that mean y-you too?” Of course she was talking about her own year of graduates, but Baek Ho was Baek Ho. Maybe not so much that her usual teacher voice should have gone out the window with this girl, but it really couldn’t be helped. She noticed that she had been leaning on the hand that was still holding her, and tried to straighten up before turning in circles to locate the stairs back down to the floor. 

Gain had taken Aegi by the hand, pulling her along as she slipped between people, carving an impossible path through the masses. She searched for her old classmates, passing tables until she found the friends she had arrived with. Immediately, both of them were handed shots of who knows what. The bridal party had ordered a lot of bottles and keeping track was not something she could do now. “No, wait, I need… water!!” she yelled to nobody in particular. Nobody was listening, anyway. Despite what was just said, the little glass tilted against her lips and the empty bottom slid back on the table. Looking around, she seemed a little lost, as if getting water was a quest with no map. She squeezed Aegi’s hand to reassure her (or maybe herself?) that somewhere, somehow, they would find water. 

[opheire-blog]

“i came with a few friends, but i think you’re better company,” she replies, teasing in a manner used to humour someone who won’t remember the next morning. likewise, the lapse into informal speech is entirely intentional, matching her vernacular word for word. she’s kind of getting a kick out of it.

it’s an easy trade off, drunk rich kids for the novelty of a drunk teacher—formerly a drunk rich kid herself at some point. the irony’s a total riot. she can’t quite decipher what gain means by house and invited until she’s pulled along, memory placing familiar faces to a different place, different time. none of them had been shitfaced as they are now, and she’s wickedly amused by the thought of baek ho class of 2016 doing the same. (at whose wedding? sowon’s, no question.)

even now, respect is ingrained in the curve of her spine, head bending as she greets them. 

“oh, so you’re aegi! aegi gongju? oh my god, i didn’t think that was really your name.”

a grin, an easy laugh. 

“i get that a lot.”

she knows better than to refuse the drink offered, turning drain the glass. quick is preferred to slow—she's never been the type to savor the burn. seventy-five proof goes down like a mouthful of thorns, but the afterglow feels good, the residual heat deceptively mild, given how little it takes to find yourself puking out the window of a moving taxi like a savage. a lesson learned via trial and error.

"you're not supposed to end the night with tequila, ssaem.”

but she’s laughing, hardly daunted by her own advice. cups sit empty and she performs as expected of the youngest at the table, topping them off to the rim.

april 2016.

[opheire-blog]

      ■ ■ ■  ♚  SONG AEGI GONGJU  ♚   ■ ■ ■ 

BAEK HO PRESIDENT | ESTP | LEO | CHAOTIC NEUTRAL

      “and evil takes form in SONG. don’t be fooled because she may        seem like your typical selfish, back-stabbing, slut-faced ho bag,         but in reality, she’s so much more than that...”

[soracities]

But to be furious, murderously furious, is to be alive. No longer young, no longer pretty, no longer loved, or sweet, or loveable, unmasked, writhing on the ground for all to see in my utter ingloriousness… there’s no telling what I might do.

Claire Messud, The Woman Upstairs (via ecouri)

[opheire-blog]

heretic

[yfxminho-deactivated20160821]

[ ... ]

“haha.”

it’s aegi. minho can’t help but to smile, it’s a nice surprise, sort of. he’s pretty sure she won’t snitch, at least not when he’s holding a weapon in his hand. “y’know, most dates with me end in the other person screaming.” he shakes the hood off, an empty smile and a pair of tired eyes revealed. now they’re facing each other, bitch to bitch. 

“listen, i know this is your, fucking, i dunno, second home or some shit. but i ain’t gonna say i’m sorry, ‘cos i’m really not. s’not like you have to clean up everything, there’s the cleaning staff for that. and there’s backup on the computers, right? if you guys didn’t do it, it’s all your faults for being so fucking stupid. anyway.” minho turns slightly, looking at the unconcious student behind him. “leave him be, he’ll be up in a few hours. don’t worry, just a few broken bones, nothing too bad. no need to call anyone. if you leave now, we were never fucking here.” there’s a dead beat before he snickers. “mm, okay, that kinda came out wrong: we were never here.”

[opheire-blog]

he’s no ghost in the dark. one glance and a familiar narrative falls into place, money and filth and blood in the schoolyard. he has her balanced on a knife’s edge, but the fear drains out of her. better the monster you know, and she knows him well enough to conclude that she's always liked him better with his mouth shut. the disparity between image and sound is almost comical, but his rambling is reassuring, in a way. humanizing.

“are you done?”

anger leaks into her voice, tightly leashed. a hand rakes through loose hair before she’s crossing her arms in front of her, nails bruising crescent moons into her palms. the situation demands a suspension of disbelief that she’s never possessed. he looks like the poster boy of juvenile detention, and she's bare-faced and standing in floral pajamas. the silence that follows is concise, heavy with a palpable sense of consideration.

“you've got to be fucking kidding me, minho.”

she inhales, organizing her thoughts.

“it’s not that simple. there are cameras in every hallway and they have me walking straight in here.” her eyes drop briefly to the body on the floor, placing a name to the boy. no pedigree of note, but that comes as no surprise. minho's favourite kind of prey to be sure. “they might not recognize you, but they sure as hell are going to recognize me. so why didn't i run screaming out of this room? why didn’t i report it? why would i leave this kid here with his assailant? that's bad for me—which means it's bad for you.”

this is how it is, whatever empathy that can be summoned shelved for another time. she feels filthy in a way that needs to be scalded clean, psychosomatic. another look at the boy, and she’s never had a weak stomach but she’s thinking—this is what he did. there’s a fourth party in this whose absence is an object itself, the puppeteer at the end of the line. jaewook had been that person, once.

“you need to leave first, and then i run to security crying that some guy i didn't recognize assaulted my hoobae and threatened me. that’s the only way this is going to work.”

[opheire-blog]

( work hard play harder )

[xyfxtaehyun-blog]

Taehyun can’t help but chuckle a bit, staring at her with amusement as she narrows her eyes at him. Who would’ve thought, Song Aegi Gongju, being cute as fuck. “Sure, I’ve seen you wasted as hell plenty of times, Aegi, and this is not it.”

He stops because it doesn’t seem she is listening to him. In fact, she suddenly starts to stare at his hair, eyes still narrowed, and Taehyun instinctively places both hands on top of it, protecting his unique sense of style from whatever evils that high state is inducing in Aegi’s head. But instead of doing anything to his hair she, thank god, has another idea.

And Taehyun can’t literally believe this shit.

“God damn it, Aegi, what the fuck?” he calls, eyes wide in disbelief as he watches her go to the end of the street, starting a steady stance, and for a moment there, he thinks he should just let her do it. He should actually pick up his phone, film the whole shit, cheer her on like the big asshole that he is and then send it for all of their friends. That would be fun. Man, that would be fucking hilarious. However, Taehyun doesn’t wish to die so young, so he decides to keep that beautiful moment for himself.

So all he does is walk towards her, place one hand on her shoulder, “Aegi, seriously, listen to me, if you try to take a swim here you’ll ruin your face so bad no surgeon in Gangnam will get it back to normal,” he places himself in front of her, trying his best not too laugh at her focused face, “come on, little mermaid, I’ll take you home. Or to my house. You can take a swim there then, we have a pool. A real one.”

[opheire-blog]

taehyun just doesn’t get it.

but that’s to be sure. he seems sober, entirely too sober, as if he’d skipped out on pre-gaming and showed up to the club alone like a total loser. it’s still an audience of one when he ducks ahead of her. just him, dressed to impress. she has a thought: that he’s here to get laid without outing himself to someone he knows. which is too bad for him, because she most definitely knows already, what with the way her neckline dives down her sternum and he hasn’t even so much as looked. 

“but i want to swim on a beach,” she insists, “a beach with sand. and don’t say that about my face. what about yours?” she throws back, eyes roving over his features.

the space underneath the bleachers is a semi-routine visit for her and the girls while school’s in session, for shits and giggles. light reading, you could say. the shit talking of bored teenagers can always be depended upon for its consistency: the usual gossip, the usual repertoire of insults. occasionally, someone strikes comedic gold and then proceeds to scrawl it across the wall until it's worn out entirely. like this, for example:

“taehyun,” she says, completely serious. in the dark, his mouth looks like nothing more than a line and it’s extremely concerning. “...why do you have chicken lips?” 

awkward pause.

“that’s what people say, and i don’t really pay attention to that shit but i mean”—stepping closer, too close for comfort really—“have you considered a little plastic surgery?”

august 2015.

[opheire-blog]

doppelgänger

[yfxjiyong]

( ties are a noose and his suit a death sentence; he tries to loosen it from around his neck, but he only manages to tighten it from ra ra’s intricately woven knot (she’d done it on purpose, he reckons). he’d spent half the night laughing at business partner’s incredibly dry jokes, nodding with his crescent smile and taking their drinks “off their hands” before throwing them back inconspicuously. ) ( he’s not quiet sure how many swigs from the random crystal tumblers and flutes he’s taken, but he’s beginning to feel the consequence of the bitter alcohol burning his throat, the noose around his neck even more uncomfortable than before. ) ( there’s a moment of reprieve– he feels the restriction loosening from around him; a sigh of relief. but it’s only a moment before he’s being pulled against his own will, slender fingers curling around nape of neck and grin against lips. ) hmmf– ( he’s taken completely off guard, hands flailing beside him and eyes shut tight from the fear of having soft lips against his. they’re different from the only other ones he’s kissed; delicate. soon, he finds it hard to protest, but his hands are still raised up beside himself, eyes still woven firmly shut in disarray. )    

[opheire-blog]

( it takes longer than it should to realize that is all very much a one-sided affair, that he seems to lag a step behind, more uncertain than hungry. the silk of his tie slides smooth between her fingers but she could’ve sworn he’d picked a bow. another oddity: the absence of his hands on her waist, and the taste of champagne. when had he decided to slip himself a glass? confusion pulls her back, ‘what’s wrong?’ hanging on the tip of her tongue when she’s finally able to take stock of who she’s pressed against the wall. ) what the fuck? jiyong? ( a quick step backwards, eyes connecting in full recognition and she bursts into laughter, a hand held over her mouth as she doubles halfway over to contain a silent belly laugh. but the similarity is a little uncanny, if you squint really hard. same height, same rich fuck styled hair, black suits and leather shoes indistinguishable from the back. he’s about to say something but she just can’t. stop. laughing. a palm raised in placation. ) sorry, just give me ( chokes ) a second, i can’t.

july 2014.

[opheire-blog]

heretic

it's the noise that warns her.

she expects an empty room and the company of shadows, nothing further. at the door, she pauses with a hand laid over the handle, head turned to listen in. the voices are too muffled to discern, and she’s wound tighter than she thinks, startling at the sound of something shattering. there’s a three-alarm warning going in her head and a flush of paranoia in her spine, but it’s her office—so who the fuck is inside and breaking shit? 

she turns the doorknob, already unlocked, and it’s tantamount to opening pandora’s box. the room is ground zero of a human disaster, a snow globe upended; files scattered on the floor, white sheets lapped like scales. fragments of the mug she'd left on her desk sit in a pool of coffee, edges scuffed by footprints. the sound is this: one body upon another, bone hitting flesh. with their backs turned, she can’t tell who they are.

she remains, for a moment, fixed in place, too stunned to speak. air sits caged in her lungs while her pulse races to two hundred, no combination more potent than adrenaline and fear. her body knows before she fully registers what's happened—what's still happening. the boy against the wall. the bat lifted, disembodied. 

her grip goes slack, phone clattering to the ground. the sound of it, metal and glass, cuts clean through the spell. the incision of her voice in the room is loud, as loud as she's ever been, a single word like a clap of thunder.

"stop!"

july 2016.

[opheire-blog]

            ■ ■ ■ ■  ♚   BAEK HO  ♚   ■ ■ ■ ■

         WHITE TIGER | WEST | AUTUMN           ban miryeo / choi eunha / chung jihye           jung soojung / song aegi / yang sowon