#while still being in the same style as the rest of the set

[interpolationz]

got hit with inspiration to try designing stickers, i have some sticker paper so once all these are finished im gonna try printing on it :v

[faroresson]

Not me doing my Video Game Ages/Timeline bullshit again

[ambrosiagoldfish]

I loved your Adam x 3rd spouse piece! I think you really captured his personality! I also just really like you're writing style! You did an qmzyjob and I think you'll continue make amazing pieces like this? Have a wonderful day or night and continue to rest if you can! 🥰🥰🥰

Benefit of the doubt Pt.3

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angsty, General Adam TW’s, Reader HIGHKEY has a complex about being loved, Reader finally talks about their issues, Lucifer and Lilith scout for new kissing partner but fails miserably/hj, Lilith will probably be OOC in the future (once Season 2 comes), Adam has abandonment issues, Adam is a puppy in private but a bitch in public, And the couch returns once again (why do all the sad things happen on this couch), This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader! (Annnnnd We popped the Y/n cherry! It’s used only once tho)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Request box: Open

Word count: 3664

A/N: Hi!!! Thanks so much! I’m using your request as the ask for part 3 so I hope that’s ok! You all were so nice with all the love for part 1 and 2 😭😭🫶🫶 this part is also pretty long but I just couldn’t stop writing it. I wanted to do 1 more part set in the past before we jump to the angst that is the show. So I guess you could call this the penultimate part! A lot of people wanted to see Lucifer hit on Reader and try to do what he did with Lilith and Eve but with Reader. And I had quite a hard time coming up with a reason that could occur in the past but I think I figured it out.

Since Luci and Lilith would still be together at this time I’ve decided to add Lilith in as well for POLY GOALS. Also they may seem malicious but I genuinely don’t think they are (they just find Reader hot LBH) 😭😭 Also I added a few more people to the tag list!

Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily

It’s been a while since Adam first moved into your newly shared home. You weren’t sure exactly how long, it was hard to keep track of time in heaven. Days seemed to blur together. It made sense to you at least, it is heaven after.

After Adam moved in, your life was filled with so many new things to experience with him, and the same was true for him. While he may seem a bit brutish, (and at times he can be) he loved the new things you showed him, the new feelings you showed him.

You were so kind, so thoughtful and so, so patient with him. You never forced him to do something he didn’t want to do but you would still push him to explore new things, even managing to convince him to be a part of heaven's official duties. That’s why, at times like these, you knew exactly what to do.

The sound of Adam slamming the front door as he entered the house made you jump. Even from a few feet away, you could hear him mumbling curses about something as he plopped himself down on the couch. You followed quickly behind, gently laying next to him

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You try to keep your voice light and soothing. Looking at him it was obvious that something was bothering him. The gold feathers of his wings were unkempt from them flaring up, his halo was slightly crooked and his LED mask showed an almost snarled expression.

Your hand slowly caressed his wings, moving the out of place feathers back to normal. But no matter how hard you tried they would stick back out.

“It’s nothing, just some lame shitty meeting I have to go to tomorrow” he crosses his arms and looks away from you.

“Hmm? Something tells me there’s more to it than that, right?” You snuggle into his belly, rubbing it softly .

His mask pouts “Dammit’ bitch, how do you always see through me, huh?” He sighs defeatedly before continuing “You know how more people are starting to kick the bucket or whatever? Well, heaven’s worried about the surplus of sinners so they're having the aforementioned shitty meeting to come to a solution and…”

He pauses

“And?” You look at him anticipatingly

“And… He’ll be there.” Oh… So that's why he’s upset. “They’re having the meeting in their brand new “heaven embassy” down in hell.” His voice mocks

“Oh, I’m so sorry Adam, Have you tried asking Sera if you can sit this one out?”

Adam groans, putting his face in his hands “Yeah like forty fucking times but she keeps saying that it’s my “heavenly duty” and she won’t let me.”

You bring your arms around Adam’s neck pulling him in towards you. You weren’t sure what to do if you were being honest. There’s nothing you can do really, if even Sera won’t let him miss it. Hmm…

“Adam, I know it’s gonna suck but if you can’t get out of it, then that’s that.” Adam looks at you a little confused “but I can go with you, I’m sure Sera wouldn’t mind an extra pair of hands in the discussion.”

“What! Hell no!” He shouted as he sat up from the couch, shaking his head defiantly.

You look at him confused, “Why?”

“That’ll only make the whole thing fucking worse! If it’s just me, I don’t have to worry that he’ll get anywhere near you!” Adam’s mask turns into a slight grimace as he attempts to keep his eyes off you.

You make your way to him, the sound of your footsteps falling off as you stop in front of him. You grab his hand as the other one moves up to his face, cupping it.

“Adam…” you rubbed circles on his hand as you continued “We’re partners. You haven’t forgotten my promise right?” You play with the golden ring on his finger.

Adam groans “No, I haven’t… sigh Shit- Fine! But… just stay by me, alright?” Your face lights up before your arms wrap around his shoulders joining you both in an embrace

“Of course,” you rub his wings gently before you grasp his hands in yours, leading him by them. “Come on, you must be tired right? It’s getting late. Couch or bed?”

“Couch. I’m way not in the mood to make a bed right now.” You laugh at his comment as you pull him to lay on the couch with you. His soft, warm body pushes up against you as you both slowly drift off to sleep for the day ahead.

-

A not-too familiar sight laid before you, the pearly gates of heaven, guarded by the one and only Saint Peter. There was no real reason for you to ever come here. You never had the chance to die, which is when most, if not all Winners see it for the first time. No one’s allowed to leave heaven unless given permission by a higher up and on top of all that, you weren’t really that enticed to leave the oh-so perfect afterlife, so there had never been a reason to see these golden gates.

But now, here you were standing behind them with some other angels. You didn’t know most of them, the only ones you recognized were Sera and Adam. As expected, it was pretty easy to convince Sera to let Adam take you along. They even prepared an extra wide seat for both of you to share. How generous!

Ever since you woke up this morning, Adam had been… Nervous? Scared? The right word doesn’t really matter but he’s been sweating buckets and was clearly more agitated than normal. His feathers were once again unkempt and you tried your best to keep them in order but he always seemed to get them messy.

Eventually, right on schedule, a flaming portal opened in front of the group. Sera was the first to enter, then followed by the others. Finally it was just you and Adam but as you take a step towards the portal, Adam stops you

“What is it?” You look up at him.

“Just… stay by me, ok?” Adam’s voiced was softer than normal, a way he only did when you two were alone

Nodding your head with a smile, your hand comes down and interlocks his. One of his bright golden wings veils itself around you, bringing you closer to him. You snuggle into him slightly before you both step into the portal.

You didn’t know what to expect when you stepped through the portal but a sight that was almost like home awaited you. The familiar gold that heaven was so fond of was everywhere in the building, accents of white and orange were also present. All and all, it was a familiar sight in a not-so familiar place.

But there was definitely something that wasn’t familiar in that place. Sitting in a chair at the end of the room was him, Lucifer Morningstar. The aura he had definitely made him seem angelic but there was clearly something about him that separated himself from divinity. Though you do have to admit that he was much shorter than you anticipated.

There was something that surprised you however, to his left sat a tall woman with long blond hair and horns. It took you a second to put 2&2 together but when you heard Adam mutter “Shit…” you knew immediately it was Lilith. And from Adam’s reaction even he wasn’t expecting her to be there.

You squeeze his hand gently as comfort, giving him a smile before you both walk to your seat. Your body is pushed closer to him as his wing wraps tighter around you. Looks like there’s no calming him down.

Finally the meeting starts, Sera begins by explaining the issue of the fast growing population in hell, leading to groups trying to form uprisings against heaven. To be honest you didn’t really understand it too well, just a lot of business-y sounding words that weren't really your forte. So you just stayed quiet.

From what you could tell, the meeting was going… well? They haven’t been able to agree on a proper decision even with Sera leading the conversation. Adam though, was being eerily quiet. You don't even think he’s said a word since you both got there. Sera seemed to notice this.

“Adam, want to share any ideas?” Sera spoke in an encouraging tone slightly gesturing to him. This seemed to catch Lucifer and Lilith’s attention. Maybe they didn’t recognize Adam because of the mask?

Adam was caught off guard but still talked “Oh uh… Man, I don’t know, can’t we just fucking kill them?” Both you and Sera looked over in surprise, “What? That would solve the problem wouldn't it? “ He shrugged

Sera sighed “Ok, how about we take a short recess to clear our minds to let in new ideas. We’ll resume the meeting in 30 minutes”

With that, everyone went their separate ways for the time being, you and Adam were the first to leave the board room, he practically was pulling you along and you could tell he wanted out of there. You both ended up in the lobby, neither of you saying a word.

The silence was so very loud. The only sound was yours and Adam’s breathing. Adam’s hand was still firmly tied to yours, not even the slightest hint of letting go. You rubbed your thumb in circles over his hand when a voice echoed through the air

“Adam, may I have a word?” Sera’s voice echoed lightly through the lobby. She gestured to a door next to her. You both made your way over to her and was about to go in when Sera put her hand in front of Adam stopping him

“What the hell Sera?!”

“Alone, please.”

Adam’s LED eyes widened his mouth slightly agape. He looked down with a scowl before turning his face to you. Your free hand going up to his mask, caressing it.

“Go talk with Sera,”

“But-“

“Shh, I’ll be fine,” You give him a kiss on the cheek, the cold of the metallic mask reaching your lips, “I’ll just be in the lobby, I won’t go anywhere till you get back. Ok?” Adam didn’t look at you, clearly avoiding eye contact, you grab his chin lightly and gently turn him to look at you,

“Ok?”

Adam’s mouth formed a frown and he groaned “Fuck- fine, ok…” You gave him a smile as Sera walked into the room, you felt his grip loosen and loosen, until finally his soft hand left yours as he walked into the room. He gave one final look back before closing the room's door.

Silence filled the air once again. It wasn’t like it was with Adam, that comfortable silence that you shared ever so often. This one laid in the air, thick and heavy, threatening to suffocate you at any given moment. You sat on one of the many yellow and white sofas in the lobby.

You tried your best to ignore it. Paying attention to less important details about the scenery around you. The weird zigzagging pattern of the carpet of the floor, the intricate designs on the doors, the huge windows. Heaven sure had a unique taste in interior design.

You tried so hard to ignore the silence that you eventually ignored the sound that broke said silence. Footsteps began echoing through the lobby approaching you. You didn’t realize someone was next to you until you heard a voice say.

“Ahem Hello!” A male voice startled you as it chimed in with a sickening sweet tone. You look towards the direction of the voice only to be greeted by the king of hell himself, Lucifer. You jumped back to the other side of the sofa in shock.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya.” He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Lucifer, But judging on your reaction, I guess you already knew that. I’ve never seen you before so you must be relatively new, right?”

You nodded your head sheepishly to answer his question. You honestly didn’t know what else to do, what could you do? You slowly picked yourself up from the sofa.

“I’m sorry but I have to go-“ you turn to leave only to bump into a tall woman. You must have been so surprised by Lucifer that you completely missed Lilith coming up behind you.

“But we haven’t even learned your name yet, Dear.” The woman’s voice sounded both somber but also welcoming, it was quite frightening how much it could calm your nerves if you kept listening to it. “How about we talk? No harm in it, right?”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Darling!” Lucifer came up from behind you, a sharp smile on his face. “Come on, sit and chat!”

Crap… they had you cornered. You had no telling what they’d do if you set them off, you wanted the meeting to go as smoothly as possible, for Adam. A few minutes to indulge them. that’s it.

You bit your lip but sighed “Ok… but just a few minutes”

“Great!” Lilith took your shoulders moving you to sit down beside her as Lucifer sat on the other side, sandwiching you between them. “So, I’ll ask again, what’s your name?”

You hesitated for a moment but decided it was better to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible.

“Y/n”

“That’s a very beautiful name,” Lucifer spoke, his tone trying to make him sound almost charming, almost. “So, if you don’t mind us asking, who are you to… Adam?” He gestured over to the door Sera and Adam went through earlier.

“I’m his spouse.” This time you answered with complete confidence, not even a shred of hesitation in your voice.

“Ah!” Lucifer nodded his head in understanding. “How’s that going?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I for one know how much of a hassle that man-child is,” Lilith laughs, covering her mouth slightly “I asked around, is it true he hasn’t taken that ridiculous mask off since he got it, hmm? Has he even shown you his real face yet?”

“No but-“

“He can be so… tiresome at times, don’t you agree?”

“No. I don’t. Adam is the best thing to ever happen to me-“

“Exactly.” Lucifer interrupted you as your eyes furrowed “You don’t have anything else to compare it to. Of course you’d see trash like the “first man” as the best thing ever.”

Trash. That word really set you off, at least it would have, if it wasn’t for the next sentence .

“But hey! It’s fine! Eve was the same way! You too are honestly very alike, let me tell you-“

Thousands upon thousands of thin threads binding you up. That’s what this conversation felt like. Each annoyance was just a new thread getting tighter and tighter as they were pulled taut, threatening to simply slice through your body, your soul. But they didn’t, instead they kept stretching past their limits until finally those words came.

Like… Eve. It felt like each of those tightly pulled threads were all cut at once with those words. Any and all tension suddenly seemed to disappear. A strange sensation of losing any care about your situation.

You know what? To hell with the meeting! You quickly stood up from the sofa causing them both to jump slightly. You turned toward them, your voice was louder than you thought was possible for you. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you but you felt so… Angry.

“I am nothing like Eve. And I’m especially nothing like either of you.” You had enough, it was untelling what would happen if you stayed. You started walking toward the room Adam was in when Lucifer grabbed your arm

“Wait! That’s not what I meant-“

“Don’t touch me, snake” you stared daggers at him before quickly grabbing his hand and shoving it off.

“We’re sorry if we upset you Dear, but that’s no way to talk to someone” Lilith walks up to you, putting an arm in front of Lucifer in a protective stance.

You walk up to the tall woman, she was at least two heads taller than you but still, you barred your teeth before speaking “Oh! You really think I care about what the first whore thinks of me, Huh?” Your voice dripped with poison from every word.

Even Lilith seemed caught off guard by your sudden change in demeanor as her face turned into a scowl. Red horns protruded through Lucifer’s head, his eyes turning red with anger. You turn your attention back to him.

“What are you gonna do?” Lucifer’s gaze slightly softened with hesitation “Exactly, nothing. Less’ you want to dig yourself deeper into this cyst pool you’ve created for yourself and end up on even worse terms with heaven.”

Without even sparing them a glance, you try to make it to the room, only to be greeted by Adam and Sera standing by the door. How long were they standing there? You must have not heard them over your screaming..

“What the fuck are you assholes doing to them? ” You rush over and grab him by the hand, the action startling him “Babe, what happened-“

“Nothing. Sera. Open a portal back home.”

“But-“

“Sera!” Your voice was gritty and rough “open a portal. Now... Please…” your voice cracked at the end

Sera had never seen you show so much anger before, but here you were, your entire gaze filled with nothing but pure unadulterated wrath.Threatening to burn anyone who got in your way. Whatever happened clearly set you off like nothing else before.

Sera nods her head “Understood”

“Thank you…”

A familiar flaming portal opened up, you quickly made your way through it with Adam following suit. The portal ended up right inside your home, closing as you both were fully through. You honestly didn’t know where you were going but eventually your body couldn’t go any further than the couch

Feeling the soft couch beneath you made your aching muscles feel like they were melting away, and only then did you realize that you were crying.

Adam crawled next to you, hugging close to you. “What the happened out there, Babe?”

You felt your body slowly break down, as more tears left you then you had cried your entire existence. Adam hugged you tighter, his wings coming over you like a blanket.

“H-How much did you see?” Your voice was shaky as you sniffed slightly.

“Not a lot, just some shit towards the end,what did those bastards say to you?”

You cleared your throat slightly. “I only talked to them because I didn’t want them to get upset and ruin the meeting and make your day even worse than it already was”

Adam’s LED mask shifted into a small sad frown “Sweetheart, you never have to talk to any motherfuckers you don’t want to, let alone for me. “

You smile but look away “it wasn’t… it wasn’t…” you tried to get the words out but couldn’t. You took a deep breath before trying one more time,”It wasn’t the only thing that set me off.” Adam looks at you curious

“They said that I reminded them of… Eve, and it just made me so… angry. I was created for you, to love you-“ your tears start swelling back up as you spoke “I want to be so much better than Eve, than Lilith for you. And then she pointed out how I’ve never seen Your face, which I’ve always been fine with, but at that moment, I started to think ‘what if they’re right?’ What if the reason you don’t want me to see you is because I also remind you of Eve”

You choked back tears “So to be compared to her when I’ve tried so hard… if I’m not better than her for you, then what is even the point of me! I was created to make you happy, if I can’t do that better than someone who hurt you so bad then I’m just useless-“

Soft lips met yours, cutting you off. This felt different than what you normally got on the cheek. It was warm compared to the cold metallic feel you’ve felt previously. Your eyes opened slightly looking at Adam’s LED mask… or what you thought was going to be a mask. He had pulled his mask off while you were crying.

You pulled back from the kiss “Adam your mask!” Adam just kisses back again

“That fucking thing doesn’t matter right now.” He paused “You're not useless and will never be useless to me. Fuck- I love you because I love you! Not because you were created for me or some stupid shit like that! You make me so fucking happy. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you were just some object that was made to make me feel better, because you aren’t.”

“Adam…” to think tears could roll down your face this harder than before “I love you so much Adam” you cry into his soft chest.

Adam kisses you again “I love you too Sweetcheeks.” Adam paused before clearing his throat “So umm… how do I look? I hope I didn't disappoint you…”

You look up at his newly unveiled face, just as you had been told, short brown hair, golden eyes, and a little bit of stubble on his chin. By all accounts, he was completely ordinary. So ordinarily perfect.

“Perfect. So so perfect. What’d I do to end up with such a handsome husband, hmm?”

“Oh stop, now you’re just being fucking cheesy” he laughs, he would never admit it but his eyes were a little watery just from hearing you say that.

“It’s true though” you lean in and wrap your arms around him, killing you both with a deep kiss.

Truly ordinary. You couldn’t be happier

[slttygeto]

HEART TO HEART : GOJO SATORU

what is heart to heart? a show in which we bring two people who have history together to ask them a couple of interesting, heartbreaking questions.

today's episode: 27 year old Gojo Satoru broke up with his girlfriend 4 years ago, yet he cannot move on. does she feel the same? and does a person really not move on even after four years?

note: i started this…without a second thought. i dont know where its going or if its gonna do well. but i enjoyed it very much

a cold room, a white set, two chairs and a table—satoru gojo knew that the point of this very simple and minimalistic set was to make him feel vulnerable and uncomfortable, but a tiny vase would’ve been appreciated.

“why did you two break up?”

the ivory haired man leans back in his chair with a dry chuckle, fingers drumming along the surface of the wooden table.

“I was insecure,” he admits rather bitterly. “I just had a lot of things to work on, and letting go of her seemed like the right thing to do.”

“do you miss her?”

“oh, absolutely,” there’s a smile on his face when he says that, and sits up straight with his hands clasped together (an indicator that he was most likely anxious to be asked such vulnerable question). he goes on to squeeze his hands a bit and his lips are sealed shut for a bit before opening them again. “I thought to myself that I wouldn’t find love for a while after her—but it’s been four years, and I cannot get myself to move on.”

“has she moved on?”

“maybe? I’m not sure,” he lets out a nervous laugh and looks away from the camera before holding his head in his hands, there was a mental battle going on inside his head—before he finally decides to speak again. “I actually stalked her instagram account last week through a mutual friend and… I didn’t see a man on any of the pictures. she could just be super private.”

“was she private about being with you?”

“she would post pictures here and there, we didn’t like to keep our relationship a secret.”

gojo is handed a blindfold and he neatly wraps it around his eyes and waits, heart thumping loudly in his chest.

when you were asked by a friend if you would do this interview, a part of you was a bit hesitant just because you weren’t sure if you wanted to air out your love life like this and have to deal with the consequences of a potential future lover being upset about it—but when you were told that it was gojo satoru, your ex-boyfriend whom you dated for 3 years and were planning on building a future with��that is until it abruptly ended with no warnings whatsoever. perhaps you ignored the tornado warnings? were there even any to begin with? you will never know because you blocked him everywhere on social media. from instagram to his phone number. you couldn’t deal with the fact that he existed around you, near you yet you couldn’t have him.

four long years of not having seen him took a toll on your heart, as it sure gets excited the moment you spot white strands on top of a head that is laid out on the table. his sense of style is still so casual and laid back, but not in a cocky way. satoru has always been about feeling comfortable in your clothes but you notice his tense shoulders and his foot tapping and can immediately tell that he is anxious.

you silently pull the chair back facing him and he lifts his head off of the table. your hands rest on top of the surface and the producer finally asks gojo to take off the blindfold.

when he does and you two lock eyes, you both start smiling big but you can’t help the little tremble to your lips before you look away from the camera to wipe a few emotional tears.

“sorry,” you whisper but your mic was able to pick it up. almost on instinct, satoru reaches towards you and squeezes your arm reassuringly.

“when was the last time you spoke to one another?”

“four years ago.” you are the one to answer the questions now and you keep avoiding satoru’s big blue eyes.

“was it hard having to walk away from a long term relationship?”

“It’s always hard when you thought there was a connection,” your emphasis on the word “thought” makes gojo look down at his lap almost in shame. he had no time to explain himself or what he did, yet he couldn’t help but feel that this interview was going to be like a second chance to explain himself and perhaps give a proper apology.

“you had no closure?”

“nope.” you both answer at the same time and it feels as though feelings of resentment are starting to resurface as your demeanor grows cold around him and you pull your hands away from the table.

“why do you think you broke up?”

“you said you couldn’t really see us together anymore,” you were now speaking to satoru directly and he gladly took the heat of your words. “you said…that us being together was just a waste of time and that one of us has to walk away,” you were clearly hurt by his words, even four years later. the breakup took a toll on you both physically and emotionally. you were incapable of going on dates for a painfully long period of time that your friends had to drag you outside to meet some potential new partners—but none of them felt like satoru. you resented him for crawling into your heart and finding a safe space there, for settling down and building a warm house inside only to tear it down and leave as quickly as he came.

“I wasn’t… sure what I wanted to do at the time, I was confused about my future,” satoru admits for the first time ever. “I thought it was so unfair to drag you down that hole with me when it was so clear to you that you had a plan in mind—a secure one so I just-“

“left.” you finish the sentence for him and he lets out a pained laugh.

“yeah, I left. and when I realized that you had blocked me, I knew that there was no going back and that I actually did it. yknow, like, it wasn’t this bad dream where I would wake up and you were still beside me—you were actually gone, I made you leave.”

there was a long silence after this and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, not after that confession.

“did you miss me?” gojo takes the initiative to ask this question instead of the producer but they don’t complain, watching carefully as you look back at your ex partner.

“I did,” you say again in a whisper, almost scared that you coming to terms with this horrible realization was going to hurt you further.

“do you think that…we could’ve worked out had I been honest at the time?”

“satoru, I would’ve never left you as easily as you did,” you knew that it wasn’t easy for him, but you want him to know that your love for him was bigger than he ever thought.

“would you like to try again?”

you two stare at each other for a bit and you sneak your hand towards his huge palm, resting your index finger there and tracing soft circles.

“yeah… I want to. do you?” you look up at him through your eyelashes and gojo’s heart feels as though it is about to burst.

“I would love to.”

2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

—💭 if you like this, leave me a tip!

[star2fishmeg]

quinn and 178 since that's how he looks all the time

Thank you for requesting <3

SCENARIO #178 We both don't want to be here

📞 dialling…

Sometimes being Captain was great and gave Quinn a sense of fulfilment and responsibility. He had a team of guys who believed in him and relied on him, their leader for success and looking after them. Other times, he wished he could be a rookie all over again, so he’d be void of so much weight on his shoulders. Like now, when he’d arrived at the press event two hours ago and had enough of his suit, answering questions, talking about the same things but worded differently and being asked those outright stupid questions that stumped him speechless. 

He swirled the liquid in his drink, head resting in his hand as he enjoyed having a few moments of peace before he jumped back into the jungle. His stomach sank slightly when he felt a presence slip onto the stool next to him. 

“Well don’t you look handsome tonight?” she purred, watching him sit up straight. He failed to bite back his smile, that uncontrollable giddiness running through him like he was a teenager again.

Y/n hadn’t joined the Canucks team long after Quinn, while he finished his time in Michigan earlier to join the professional league, she’d completed school entirely and then landed a job in the Canucks social department. They weren’t complete strangers, she and Quinn had been friends during university, friends who definitely could’ve been more if they’d had enough time.

“You never fail to impress either, even at your first event. You looked gorgeous. Still do.” He grinned, taking the final sip of his drink before turning towards her. He remembered it crystal clear. Her hair was styled perfectly with cute little clips that shimmered under the lights, an outfit that hugged her curves and her skin glowed, not an ounce of nerves in sight but amongst the crowd, she still looked for him. Seeing her then brought back a plethora of UMICH memories at once, from orientation, their first interaction at Yost when she held the door for him, to the first party they attended all the way through to his last day, where they bawled their eyes out outside gates and kissed with tear-stained cheeks and bittersweet smiles. 

“Oh, stop it, you flatter me,” she leant closer, Quinn’s ears tinting furiously pink, and she tucked a long, loose strand of his hair back, “I remember that event too. You still cut your hair short, had your baby face and fumbled over your words when I said hi. But I still found you cute as the day I met you.”

His chest rumbled as he chuckled with embarrassment and he glanced around the venue, not a journalist or manager in sight, all occupied by his teammates, “This is the least exciting part of going pro, if I’ve answered the same question once, I’ve answered it hundreds of times. Bed sounds really nice right now. Anywhere sounds better than here right now.”

“I agree with you there, when I saw you sitting like you were gonna kill somebody, you have no idea how relieved I was.” Y/n slumped into the bar, her gaze meeting Quinn’s. How she missed that look, his face, his voice. Looking around the venue, she turned back to him, a smirk across her lips, “Wanna ditch this joint?”

“I do not look like that,” Quinn protested, scoffing playfully. He wasn’t thinking like a Captain anymore, being with her again, alone at a bar turned the clock back to being in the kitchen of some frat party, Deja vu of discussing where they should sneak off to since they’d become tired of the noise, the people. Quinn slid off his stool, standing above y/n and taking her hands into his, relishing in the way they still fit perfectly, the way her entrance just straight-up shifted his mood and now he was excited, “but we could make out in the bathrooms, that’s sounds like fun.” 

“Ooor,” she hopped off her stool, pulling his arms around her to set his hands on her hips before sliding her palms up his chest, neck craning to peer up at him with a wild glaze in her eyes, his favourite kind of frisky, half-lidded look that lit a fire inside him, triggered his raging adrenaline, “you could take me on that arcade date you owe me from, what? Four? Five years ago? And then we could head back to mine and make out?” 

Quinn Hughes didn’t need to say anything for her to lead him out the back door, the pair giggling like rebellious teenagers with hands grasped in each other’s and their inner university selves finally having the opportunity to live wildly and freely as they ran through the car park to her car. This time they’d be leaving together, even a Captain needed a break once in a while.

[dinogoofymutated]

Hi! so far I've loved everything you've written about Kurt, Logan and Remy. 🧎🏻‍♀️

Could you write something about Kurt? where together with reader they are in the kitchen of the mansion because they can't sleep, and she finally tells him her concerns about the magnitude of her powers and Kurt with his heart of gold tells her beautiful things to calm her down and make her laugh, the rest to your imagination, I would appreciate it, you write great! Thanks 💙✨

SFW! Nightcrawler/Fem!Reader

Ok so I will admit that I made this a leeetle self indulgent. I was trying to think of a power someone could really struggle with and a fun one that I thought of was having necromancy, but having such respect for life and death that it feels wrong. I thought it would fit well with a Kurt fic because it's something that almost feels sacrilegious, and it's good to have a fuzzy blue elf assure you that you aren't a monster :) I know its def not power ambiguous, but I hope this is okay :)

Also, I know my writing style is a little different in this one, And thats because the first few paragraphs set the tone for my writing when I start and tbh I think this one just flowed from my soul to they keyboard.

TWs: nightmares, necromancy, gross descriptions of rotting flesh. Extreme self-doubt and self-consciousness. Basically angst with a happy ending.

You’ve been having nightmares again. They hardly seem to stop, but after a break in between the terror, you'd become too relaxed. Too comfortable. You felt defenseless when they started to begin again.

It’s always the same dream, different font. Bones cracking, flesh ripping as it’s forced into place, natural or not. Skin rotting off of once human bodies, sockets where eyes used to be. It was horrifying. You’d see your family, friends, acquaintances, everyone. Dead. Brought back to life by your power, the power you were still so afraid of. You were always afraid of zombie movies as a kid. Anything rising from the dead, anything breathed back to life in some sick and twisted fantasy. It was ironic that your very own strength was the thing you had always been the most afraid of.

Of course, as you aged and the professor took you in, the fear began to wear off. Mostly, it did. The professor not only taught you how to control your powers but also how to work around your fear. You can remember the confusion you felt when he had set a box of ancient bones in front of you. Fragments of titans, dinosaurs who had long since passed. Bones that would never be matched to an accurate set, parts of them being crushed to dust by the cruelty of time. Bones that only you could breathe to life, to bring them together as a whole again. It was convenient, the professor had told you, that you only needed a fragment to do so. He spoke as if it were a service to them. Most importantly, he brought you a box of bones that weren’t, and never had been, human.

He had taken the fear out of your power. Given you an option you had never considered before. Bones without flesh, without living family. Fossils that would serve you as you were serving them. You were… happy, with that. You were content. You could handle bones. You could revive these ancient skeletons without fear, and fight with them without worry. That didn’t change the horror of knowing the capacity your powers had.

    So the nightmares remained, and your sleep had become sparse.

    This particular night you were restless. Unable to sleep despite how tired you have been, but it’s hard to rest when there is only terror waiting behind your eyelids. After a while, you decide to give up trying.

The path to the kitchen is one you have memorized, even in the dark. You’ve always been told never to eat sugar before bed, but the only thing you want to comfort you at this moment is hot chocolate- so screw it.

    You try your best to be quiet while fishing out a pot out of the cabinets. The stove makes a click as you flick it on, filling the pot with milk before stirring it as it warms. The automatic task is comforting, falling into a routine you enjoy. You’ve just added the coco mix when the sound of a *Bamph* greets you.

    “Guten abend.” Kurt whispers, walking over to stand beside you. You give him a tired smile that he returns with a yawn.

    “I’m sorry if I woke you.” You say, face returning to a frown Kurt thinks you wear far too often. Maybe it’s good that he’s here because you realize you made far too much of the sweet drink than you had meant to. You get a mug for him, heart fluttering as his hand brushes your own when he takes it from you, thanking you quietly.

    “You did not wake me, Schatz. I promise.” Kurt says, pulling out a chair for you with his tail as he sits at the table. You nod silently, placing the pot in the sink and filling it with water before you join him, leaning against his shoulder.

    “Did you have another nightmare?” Kurt asks after a moment. His brows are furrowed in concern, and you fail to stop him before he takes a sip from the scalding coco, burning his tongue. He scrunches his nose as he sticks out his tongue, making you giggle for a moment. He thinks your laugh suits you much more than your frown, even if it happens to be at his expense. Your face falls slightly anyway, and he wonders if he could get you to laugh if he did it all over again.

    “...No. Not tonight.” The words come out as less than a whisper, and you doubt he might hear it if it weren’t the middle of the night. Little did you know he’d block the world out if he had to, just to hear you speak a little clearer. He hums in response, and you feel his tail slowly wrap snugly around your waist, the very tip idly stroking you in a comforting manner.

    “...Do you wish to speak about them?” Kurt asks after a moment. You huff slightly, feeling the hot steam from your mug warm your face as you do so. Still too hot, you think to yourself. Flashes of those horrid nightmares come to mind, and no matter how quickly you try to shake them off, they remain. You choose to think of Kurt instead. Sweet, kind, comforting Kurt. You want to bury yourself in his arms, sink into the feeling of his skin, and never let go, if only he would let you. He would without a second thought, if only you had known. You think carefully about your next words, and the visions of flesh and corpses hardly leave you.

    “Am I a monster, Kurt?” You hear a quiet, cut-off gasp from Kurt, and he turns to you. His face is pained, and he sets his mug down to place his hand around your own, still clasped around the hot cocoa. 

    “Of course not. Only a fool would think so.” His words, although comforting, only leave you with a worse sting in your heart. You can’t hold eye contact with him, staring at the reflection in your mug instead. Only a fool would think so. You halfway wonder if you count as a fool, then.

    “I, just… My powers, what I do. What I am capable of doing. It’s not right.” You take a shaky breath in, desperately trying not to break down here and now. “It’s disgusting. It’s horrible. Every time I find myself comfortable with myself I am reminded of what is possible and I spiral. I don’t want it. I don’t-”  

  “Liebling.” You let out a sob at the sound of his voice. Kurt is hunched over, pressing his forehead against your own as he desperately tries to catch your gaze- but you can’t. You can't bear it, and you close your eyes tightly. Kurt takes the mug from your hands. He cups your face as he wipes your tears, and you feel like even more of a monster as he does so. Sobbing as a man with a heart of gold wipes your tears away with love and care.

    “Please, look at me,” Kurt whispers. You try to stop the tears, embarrassed as you fall apart in front of the man you hold so dearly, but it’s hard. It’s so hard. Your chest stings, your throat is sore, you’re sure your nose is running, and yet he still holds you so gently. When your breathing evens out just a bit, you convince yourself to open your eyes again.

    Kurt’s gaze is simply concerned. There is no horror, no disgust, nothing but worry for you. Nothing but kindness. You wonder if you could be even half as good as he is. 

    “You are good. You are kind. You are strong enough to stand by your morals despite the nature of your powers telling you otherwise- and you have the strength to continue to use them and fight your fears anyway. You are one of the most incredible people I have ever met. Do not let your nightmares tell you otherwise.” Kurt’s hold is steady against your cheeks, and your own shaky hands reach up to hold onto his wrists. You sob again as he speaks. You know. You know this. Others have told you, but these words all felt like lies. All but the ones you’re hearing from his mouth. Your tears are slowing, and Kurt leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, leaving the skin tingling. You whisper quiet apologies for crying, and he shushes each one, gently wiping your face with the soft sleeve of his pajama shirt.

  “I would not be here if I didn’t want to care for you, my love,” Kurt says softly. Your eyes widen, taken aback by his words. He called you many things. Liebling. Schatz. Love. But never my love. The words waken butterflies in your belly, and Kurt takes a moment to realize what he’s said. He swallows nervously, but he doesn’t pull away. You don’t either. The two of you are treading a line that you both desperately want to cross. 

    Kurt is the first to lean in. He does so slowly, toeing the line between you. His gaze remains on your own as he closes the space, nose nuzzling against your own as he gives you the time to back out if you wish. But you don’t. You want nothing more than to have what he is so freely giving. 

    Kurt kisses you softly, lovingly, and for once the horrors have quieted and are cleared from your mind. All there is now is Kurt, and his soft love. He kisses you a second time before he pulls away, still as close to you as he can be without falling out of his chair. You wonder how he can see beauty where all you see is terror. He wonders if you have any clue just how much of a good person you continue to be.

    He knows he would gladly spend the rest of his life showing you.

[mayasaura]

one problem with a theatrical adaption of tlt is htn, where the reveal that Gideon lives on works because of the change of second person to first.

the only way i can think of it working is that the actor playing gideon works backstage, like the lights system (but is hidden from the audience aside from subtle hints)

the biggest hint is when when wake breaches pal's river bubble she 'breaks' the lighting system and the stage goes dark. harrow is ushered into the wings by pal so she doesn't see anything, but the lights flick back on just before the curtains drop for a scene change, and pal looks directly up at the light box in surprise and smiles. if the audience is quick to turn around they can see a flash of a black robe.

Oh boy my friend, have you come to the right place!!

So, fun fact about ninja. Bear with me, I am going somewhere with this. The image of a ninja covered head to toe in black, with a hood and mask, comes from Kabuki theatre. It was originally a stagehand uniform. Like stagehands in modern theatre, stagehands in Kabuki would wear all black to signify that they were not really there, and whatever effect they were causing (carrying a prop, creating a breeze, ect.) was to be taken as happening on its own. Basic stagehand stuff, a lot of productions in many styles around the world do it, especially if they don't have fancy rigging systems.

Someone (I don't remember who now, or in what play) had the idea to dress the ninja in a production up as a stagehand. In the convention of the theatre, this made them invisible. The audience was already so used to ignoring stagehands, they didn't know any more than the characters that the ninja was present, despite the actor being clearly visible on stage. Which meant when the ninja struck, it was as if out of nowhere. I can only imagine the uproar in the theatre the first time it happened. It worked so well as to become commonplace, and the rest is history. The popular image of a ninja is still a kabuki stagehand.

So, back to the stage play of Harrow the Ninth. I think you've hit almost exactly on how to incorporate the Gideon twist into a theatrical production. But not as a lighting tech. Gideon is a stage hand. Maybe there would be more than one stagehand, maybe she would be the only one, but she would operate in full view of the audience, literally setting the scenes. I think it works best if she's the only one, but if the production needs more, she should subtly stand out in some way. As the play went on, we would notice that this one stage hand... increasingly interacts with Harrow, though Harrow never acknowledges it. At first it might look like she's playing Harrow's necromancy, because that would be the main special effect she would need to help with. When Harrow is unconscious at the end of a scene, it's always the same stagehand carrying her out. But we all know she's not really there. Until Palamedes acknowledges her. Turns to look right at her, and speaks to her. I can see the scene clearly. He would look at her, stunned, until Gideon finally took off her mask. The line "Kill us twice, shame on God," would be addressed to Gideon, and then he would turn back to Harrow, kiss her on the forehead, and tell her to go. Gideon, always out of Harrow's line of sight, would guide Harrow away while Harrow looked back at Palamedes.

[dearsnow]

HOW THEY REACT TO YOU GETTING HURT

- headcanons for how the top gun maverick characters react to you, their s/o, being wounded. (top gun maverick x gn!reader, fluff, slight suggestive sentences but you can ignore them)

a/n - bob kisses your wounds because he’s a sweetheart, the rest kiss your wounds because it’s an excuse to kiss you— they are not the same!! but anyways enjoy this silly set of headcanons <3

INCLUDES: Robert “Bob” Floyd, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, Natasha “Phoenix” Trace

For the first time in a while, BOB is furious. At himself, but furious nonetheless. When you were walking around town, hand in hand, he accidentally tripped you, sending you knees-first into the pavement. He immediately dropped down on his knees and made sure you were okay. When you assured him you were, he gently helped you to your feet and wiped the stray gravel away from your legs. They were a bit skinned and raw, bleeding just slightly, and he mentally punched himself. “I’m so sorry! I never meant to do that, geez, I’m way too clumsy.” Ever the caretaker, though, he has a solution. “Here, get on my back, honey. Don’t worry, I got you. Let’s go home so I can get you some neosporin and band-aids.”

ROOSTER is always careful yet confident with his movements, so when he feels your foot under his after he steps down unnecessarily hard, his eyes widen and he pulls back. “Did I just step on you? Shit, baby, I’m sorry.” Your wince is the only thing he needs to see before he’s kissing you on the forehead and apologizing more. “Sorry,” kiss, “sorry,” kiss, “really sorry,” kiss, “even more sorry,” kiss. He gets you giggling before you can even think to be mad at him— not like you ever could be, anyways. He always treats making you happy like his life’s only goal, not that you mind. You especially don’t mind when he presses a final kiss to your forehead and promises to make it up to you later.

When you show up to your date with HANGMAN, you have a slight limp, which he notices immediately. “What happened to you, hot stuff?” When you explain that you twisted your ankle while walking from your car to the restaurant, he almost laughs. “Really? Well then, that’s just an excuse for me to do this,” he grins, picking you up bridal style. He’s not too worried, because in the ten seconds you spent explaining your predicament to him, he noticed that your ankle was neither red nor swollen, most likely just tender. And yes, he does carry you for the rest of the night. Both of you can feel people staring at you, but when his strong hands are holding up your body and his lips are on yours, you can’t find it in yourself to care.

You’re stirring pasta sauce on your fresh, clean stovetop when your pot slips in your grip, causing the side of your hand to directly touch the scorching metal. You pull back immediately at the pain, hissing slightly. PHOENIX looks over her shoulder, putting down her knife. “You good?” When you tell her you are, in fact, not super good, she immediately turns the sink on cold and holds your hand under the running water. She presses a chaste kiss to the side of your head. “Got too hot, hm? That’s how I feel when you’re next to me.” You laugh, and she intwines your fingers with hers, still in the sink. “Keep it steady for me while I finish up the cooking, got it?” She whispers in your ear. You give a mock salute and she shakes her head, still smiling. Despite your best efforts, she doesn’t let you do any more work for the rest of the night; not even when the cooking is done.

[pedge-page]

Sub!Himbo!Jealous!Joel! The people demand it!!!

Statement

Sub!Himbo!Joel x F!Reader

Notes: the people have spoken! This could takes place between Closer and Mine is Mine when reader is in mid pregnancy but not required to read those for this.

Warnings: sub!Joel, Himbo!Joel, Jealous!Joel, possessiveness, breeding kink, hand job, doggy style, pregnant reader, unprotected sex, pregnancy sex, Joel fucks rough but acts subby, Mommy kink, multiple orgasms, creampie, one slap on the face for Joel

18+ ONLY

- - - -

While you mind your business at the coffee shop, engaging with friends and neighbors upon your visually evident bump now, Joel is fuming in the booth in the back. You hadn’t noticed him when you walked in, and he was about to greet you until he saw Brian launch over smiling, gesturing surprised to your belly and then kissing you on the cheek.

That set off a nerve.

A few others joined in to create a little circle. Joel sits back, visibly fuming as everyone else touched your swell or held your waist, swarming over you for your attention.

Out here, he’s a big, scary, reserved kind of guy. Joel Miller. 

The two of you … haven’t exactly come out and made it official, despite reassuring each other you weren’t seeing anyone else. He always avoided you in public, like you weren’t truly connected in more ways than one now. And to keep it emotionally simple, you usually never attempted to engage with him either outside the bedroom to keep it less obvious. If he didn’t want to be linked to you, then fine. It was too difficult trying to understand him when he wasn't humping you like a desperate bunny.

You feel good conversing with other people. You had spent so long being entangled with Joel’s limbs on the bed, ignoring the outside world to instead indulge his inner needs to be dominated and dumbed by you.

 This was probably the first time you’d been around others now entering the heavily rounded phase of your pregnancy that could no longer be kept hidden.

You did not notice Joel was here too, steaming in a mix of rage, anxiety. He feels unsure when he sees you out like this. You’re not the same. He’s not the same either, and he fears he preach his masculine demeanor, knowing just one look from you would have him on his knees in this whole shop in a second.

He grinds down along his jaw, slitted eyes unable to tear away from the silhouette of your gorgeous body and the hands that don’t belong to him getting too friendly with his baby inside you. 

What were you telling them? That you had a boyfriend? A husband? Or some random fuck that turned into an accident?

It wasn’t a fucking accident. 

With one last flirtatious laugh towards Brian, Joel’s had enough.

He aggressively cuts between all of them and closes you off. 

“Joel—“ you begin, surprised by his presence.

Brian goes to put a firm palm of Joel’s chest, ready to step between this raging bull and his pregnant friend. “Hey man, be gentle—“

“FUCK—OFF,” he snarls at Brian. The rest of the group backs away. The shop goes quiet as all fearful eyes are on Joel, his chest puffed out to intimidate. 

“It’s okay,” you say softly. Your hands grasp gently around Joel’s bicep, and he takes a deep breath. Though his eyes are still murderous towards Brian, he feels that wave of relief overcome him when you, only you, make contact with him. “It’s okay, Brian. Joel’s just been helping around my house. Getting the nursery built for the baby. Right, Joel?” 

You stroke along his plaid shirt, begging the muscles under there to relax. He rolls his tongue along the inside of his lip before nodding.

He steps between you and Brian entirely, grasping your arm an yanking you out of the shop. You try to give a final reassurance to your friends that you were late to discussing wall paint with Joel, but your words were cut short as the door closed on you.

-

You’re not even through the house entrance when he starts aggressively undressing you. The tearing screech of your top makes you flinch, “J-Joel,” you stammer, but it doesn’t stop him from ripping you down to your bra, your swollen belly not quite to full mast but so quickly evident. “Joel,” you say more firmly, but he just growls, avoiding your eyes as he makes quick work to rid you of your bottoms, until finally you ball his shirt in your fist and slap him hard across the face.

“What the hell is the matter with you?"

He goes soft, eyes blinded like a deer in headlights. The stinging pain in his cheek reverberates over his body, and if you were any of the people in that shop today, you’d be scared shitless of what aggressive Joel Miller might hold for just slapping him.

But you’re not one of them.

Then, to that of a scolded child, a wounded wolf pup that doesn’t know its own strength, he goes still, shoulders slumped and head tilted down in guilt.

 "I don't like it,” he says just barely above a whisper.

“Don’t Like WHAT?"

"When they—touch you.” He blurts out the last part like it’s a curse. “I thought. I thought I was yours. Why do you let them touch you?”

You sigh heavily. It looked really bad, the way he jumped in and started manhandling you. Even if you were used to it here, in the confines of your apartment where the two of you made extremely passionate love every day. Out there, to others, it was more complicated to explain. Had you known he was there, you wouldn’t have let others touch you—knowing it would go the wrong way in his caveman brain.

You didn’t care about anyone else but Joel. It’s just hard trying to make him understand that when he makes a 180 on you and keep up the lone tough world appearance with other people. So, of course, he misunderstood it all. That no one there was trying to take you from him.

Poor thing.

You cup his scratchy cheeks in your hands. “You are mine.” 

His eyes look downward still, and you can see each etch and fine line of his wrinkles, the grays turning to white in his beard, the tension so strong in his jaw that you need to rub your thumb over it to remind him its ok to relax for you.

His hands drift down to smooth over the sides of your belly between you. At the same time, one of your palms trace flat against his massive chest, down his flanneled top until you reached the bulge in his jeans. Your hand sneaks below the belt line.

You begin stroking his cock. “—And I’m yours.” 

He whimpers at your touch, your words. Like silk settling over his flaming ego and soothing the sting in his heart once again. The agitation deflates, and you can almost feel the physical shedding of his barren skin into the soft, sweet, dumb little boy you know best. 

"They were asking me who the lucky man who made me a Mommy.”

He hisses in your hair, his eyes closing at the sweet smell, the aroma of you filling his senses and taking over. “M-mmm-m me.”

"Mhm.” You nod, making his eyes meet yours. You continued stroking along his hard cock, fishing them out of his pants. His tip weeped into your belly button with each gentle tug against his length. “They were so jealous of you, baby. Not the other way around. You did this to me. You bred me full of your seed. You made my belly grow. My tits swell.”

Joel lets out a rasp, eyes closing and knees bent, like he’s unable to hold himself up now when surrendering to you. You pump his cock faster, refusing to let him shrink away from you. 

“M-Mommy!” He groans, hunching over, but you wrap your fingers in a tight o around the base of his cock, cutting off his flow and preventing him from cumming just yet.

“You need to owe up to it now.”

"I ... I like you…like this. Full. Full of my—Fuck. I want—nnffgggg—“

"Use your words.”

"I want to keep you like this,” he breathes out, eyes hypnotized by your pregnant tummy. “Forever and ever, just mine, just for me.”

You laugh and grant him mercy, slowly stroking his weeping length once again. "You wanna keep breeding me, hun? Wanna knock me up every chance you get, keep me pregnant forever with your babies? Give ya a whole class full of kids? A fucking soccer team? Thank what you want?"

His head rolls along your cheek, collapsing forward in pathetic ruts as you work his brain and his dick over and over. “Yesyeyes so pretty, so full of me, wanna keep you mine for everyone to see all the time. Don't want them touchin’. Just wanna touch you, only one to touch you, have you, breed you, please.”

“If you want to claim me for yourself,” you hum, teeth gliding along his jaw and pinching his bob in his throat, “Then you need to fuck me like it.”

-

 So doggy it is. Not a position he likes to get in until you coax him. but tonight, he needs to feel like he has possession over you... and he's still learning to be gentle.

You need him to let go, to use that physical power and fuck you to his hearts content. You don’t want him holding back, so normally concerned for you a your pleasure. Tonights about him. 

A smile cracks through your parted lips as he forces a particularly deep thrust into you. While he's so fully capable, strong, leader oriented, when he's with you in the safety of the bedroom, all thoughts go out his brain. He can't think for himself, goes so fucking dumb when thinking about getting inside your pussy that you have no choice but to take control and guide him and his little dumb thoughts.

His hips slap against you hard and fast, his meaty hands clamped so tightly around your waist that there will be bruises there. Your baby is safe, for now, at this size, even if your lower back is killing you with each rough crash against your ass. But the coil tightening in your core feels too good to think about anything else.

“Fuck—FUck Joel, feels good, huh? Feel good fucking your pussy?” You pant, arms propping you up on the bed that rocks violently back and force.

“Mommy’s pussy Mommy’s pussy Mommy’s pussy—“ he chants. His gaze is plastered on the sight of his cock disappearing into your squishy heat, practically sucking him in with each stroke. 

“Yeah, good boy, my good fucking boy,” you voice cracks, eyes rolling back as your orgasm plows through you. "Love seeing your baby grow in me? getting all—mm—big—my body's changing because of you, Miller. You did this to me."

You feel his pace stutter, desperate whimpers escaping his throat. His cock can barely handle your walls convulsing around him.

“Love Mommy's body, love everyone seein' what I done to ya, knocked Mommy up," he rasps, swallowing hard as your warmth clenches around him. "Warm,wet,tight,mine,mommys pussy mine, all mine, warmwarmwarm fuck—Put my cum in mommy’s pussy’s n now she’s mine!”

He pulls you up, one arm strapped over your chest and the other with his palm splayed possessively over your swell. You both make eye contact in the mirror, watching him hump you with such speed you’re seeing spots in the reflection. You don’t dare look away, nodding to him despite your oversensitivity, and whispering yesyesyes to make sure he keeps going.

You feel his jaw clenching so hard against your cheek, straining his neck nearly blacking out. His sweaty chest pressed flush against your back, pinning you too him.

The hand on your belly glides gently down so that his thumb can rub along your clit. You flinch for a moment, but his strength and the speed he’s slapping his balls against your ass leave you with no option but to take the second orgasm that screams through your body.

“Fuuucckkkkk Joel!” You cry, closing your eyes and grinning. You pull his hand back onto your belly. “Fucked me so good, Daddy. Everyone’s gonna see the baby you put in me, gonna know you’re gonna be the daddy that bred me.”

“Bred—my—Mommy,” he grunts with each forced breath, and with one final slam, he croaks out a drawn out moan, hips spasming as he drains his seed into you.

“That’s it, that’s it baby. There you go. All for you, my good boy. Mommy loves taking your cum. That’s all you gotta do, baby. Empty your balls into Mommy’s belly. Just like that. Doin so good. My good Joel.”

He buries his face into your neck. He’ll never want to draw away from your sweet scent, like nectar to a gluttonous bear. As his balls twitch with the final spurt of his cum into you, he sighs heavily. “Mommy’s good Joel,” he repeats. The two of you look in the mirror, still propped up on your knees, cupping over your little swell together and marveling at the hard work that’s now finally evident to the world.

- - - -

Sub!Himbo Joel fics:

Safe, Closer, Mine is Mine

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee

[yanderefarm]

Honestly Silvan is so cute, i cant help but think about a master who treats him like their own little dress up doll, the maids might be the ones to bath him, but his master is the one that puts him in the prettiest frills and silks, who does his makeup flawlessly, and styles his hair just so, you mentioned him hurting himself either to get you to drink from him or to punish himself so i can imagine this types of master would do things like expressing disappointment whenever he harms himself before punishing him with isolation, of course putting him in a straight jacket along with his padded cell so he doesnt damage himself any further, maybe if he's particularly bad you'll strap him down to a chair, table, or even locking him in a coffin like putting a doll in their case so he has no choice but to be there completely still, alone in the dark until he understands what he did wrong

doll silvan

cw;; objectification, abuse, hypnosis, angst, questionable comfort, self harm, blood, cruel reader

haha this is so fucked up i love it so much it tickles the part of my brain that says to ruin that twink. the urge to treat silvan like a stress ball.

like i know he'd be so fun to absolutely ruin his sense of self and break him down until he doesn't even realize he's human anymore. and all because you love him! he'd be so grateful.

silvan looks good in anything. he could wear the ugliest colors and still somehow it would compliment his eyes you're sure. not that you would ever allow him to wear something ugly. even when he first arrived in his glorified potato sack you immediately set upon getting him something better. but no matter how many clothes you bought for him it was never enough, he needed more. at this point your tailor had taken up residence in your manor.

every day before breakfast you would go to silvan's room and help his maids wake him up, today was no exception. your tired pet would blink at you with a sleepy smile and a cute blush on his face before you would usher him off to the bath. while he bathed the maids would clean up his room and you would begin the process of picking out his outfit. it was a long and laborious process, plagued with indecision because nothing was perfect!

as soon as your lovely doll was out of the bath you'd set upon him. you stood him in front of the full length mirror, his body shifting as he tried not to get aroused. as much as you love him the fact that he's not one of your other lifeless dolls can get annoying sometimes. you end up compelling him to get him to behave properly, there's always a sick pleasure in watching his eyes go empty and his body become soft and pliant in your arms. you keep him aware of what's being done to him but he can't control his own body, his mind distant and foggy like watching from underwater. you start with wrapping his ribbon for the day around his neck, the ribbon you pick always sets the mood for the rest of his outfit. today you picked a soft pink ribbon which immediately inspired you to grab some matching pink and white babydoll lingerie. your pet always spends the whole day embarrassed and aroused when you make him wear nothing but lingerie, it makes him taste better.

you tie the ribbon around his waist tight like a corset, his breath hitching softly. you run your fingers along his cheek as you admire your perfect doll in the mirror.

"so pretty... dolls don't need to breathe do they?" you're so tempted to tighten up the ribbon too but you can't risk leaving any marks on his skin.

you released your compulsion on him allowing him to return to his normal self. immediately his heartbeat picked up and his face turned the same pink as his ribbon. you offered your pet your hand which he graciously took, his cheeks a burning red as you led him out of the room.

today was special, you were having a few guests for dinner and they were specifically interested in your notorious doll collection. that's why you had been fasting for a week now, any teeth marks on his beautiful skin would be disgusting and unsightly. it was hard to have him sitting there in your office especially with his heart racing every time a servant would come in. a lesser vampire would have cracked but your preference for aesthetics beat out your hunger. he was supposed to be perfect for the evening event.

you should have been keeping a closer eye on him honestly but between work and your admittedly stupid trust in your toy you thought it would be fine. he had somehow found himself a piece of broken glass to make a cut on his arm. that's aggravating. in trying to bring you his gift because you had to be starving he had gotten his blood on his outfit. that's infuriating. and his eyes looking at you pathetically like he knew what was coming. it took everything in your power not to hurt your little doll in anger, choosing instead to squeeze the door knob so tightly the metal bent and the door was pulled from its hinges.

you threw the broken door to the side and grabbed his uninjured arm, still careful not to bruise him. he was sobbing, begging, pleading for you to stop as you dragged him towards his isolation room. his fists weakly beat on your arm as he tried in vain to apologize, soon his wailing was going to start. god he made you mad. you were almost to the tower when you grabbed silvan's face, covering his mouth as you pressed him into the wall.

"you are a beautiful perfect doll. dolls don't scream. dolls don't cry. dolls don't stain their clothes." every word was like venom from your lips.

his tears were pouring fresh from his bloodshot eyes.

"i had plans for you tonight. you were going to do a lovely show. your pretty blood was already going to run." you let go of his mouth and eased away from him.

"but no you just can't help yourself. you enjoy ruining your body. do you hate me?"

"n-no!"

you grabbed his face again this time forcing him to look in your eyes. "do you hate being my beautiful doll? do I not treat you well?"

"master-! im-im so so so sorry im-im so bad i know im not im not good enough im-"

you leaned down and gave him a gentle kiss. "shh... I'm sorry for getting so angry with you, doll. it's ok."

"ca-can i still-still be your pretty-pretty doll? please. please i can i-"

"i could never find a doll as beautiful as you. but you can't go around misbehaving like that. you're going in your case for dinner and then you'll spend the night in your room."

he started to sob again his words failing as he tried to beg you not to do this to him. you gave a heavy sigh as you forced him back down into your compulsion. his tears stopped as his body fell limp in your arms, just like a doll.

you carried him gently to your dollhouse room where you kept everything you used to make your pretty lifeless dolls. you set him gently on the table and he blinked at you like he wanted to start crying again. you shushed him. instead you focused on finding him a new outfit, something white to match the straight jacket he'd have to wear. you found a cute pair of wedding lingerie and a pearl necklace to replace his ribbon. you hummed to yourself as you undressed him. your tone became sour when you got to his still bleeding wound, you licked the excess blood before you got to work cleaning his wound properly.

"this is really ugly work. do you know that I really hate doing this to you?"

blink. you gently wrapped his arm up tightly.

"mhm i hate it. you keep making me do this though. do you realize how much pain you cause me?"

blink blink. you gave his freshly bandaged wound a kiss before you made him sit up straight.

"arms out. i don't like making you miserable, you're my most precious doll."

you gently slipped him into the straight jacket and pulled it tight until he couldn't move his arms at all.

"you're too beautiful to be forced in your box, you know? but if a toy breaks you have to throw it away."

blink blink blink. a single tear fell down his blank face. you sighed again as you pulled his lacey white panties up his thighs.

"we don't want you to break. just accept your punishment like a good boy."

blink. you helped him down off the table before leading him to another full length mirror. you gently placed the "bloody" pearl necklace around his neck.

"if i let you go will you quietly go in your case?"

blink. satisfied with that answer you left him standing there to pull out his case. a coffin with a glass window in the top that allowed you to see whatever was inside. you unlocked the heavy coffin and pulled it open. the interior was a deep maroon and it was extremely well cushioned with an extra pillow for the head.

you released your compulsion on silvan who immediately began to cry again. you clicked your tongue at him.

"there's no reason to cry, doll. come get in your case."

"ple-pleash- hic don-dont throw-throw me aw-away- hic" he was sobbing so hard he couldn't breathe.

you pulled him into a hug. "you're not broken, are you?"

"im im ba-bad hic an-and im ug-ugly and hic- i can-cant be-be go-good-"

you rubbed your hand on his back. "you're not a bad doll, you're so good at being my doll. you get confused sometimes and think you're still human and that's when you're bad. but i forgive you. even if it takes me 500 years I'll train you into the perfect doll."

his head nuzzles against your chest as he sobbed and whimpered and hiccuped. his words were too broken to understand anymore. you held him for a long time, letting him get all his tears out onto your shirt. when he finally calmed down enough to breathe properly you guided him to the mouth of his case.

"please- please come get me tomorrow ma-master..."

"I'll get you first thing in the morning. we can even go out tomorrow if you don't misbehave anymore tonight."

he nodded as he sunk into the comfortable coffin space. his heartbeat immediately picked up as soon as the lid closed over him, a sense of claustrophobia washing over him. you could hear him trying not to panic even as you locked the coffin tight.

"be good."

[favefandomimagines]

Storm’s Eye (t.o)

Request: @lonelyghosts-stuff “Helllllllo! I hope you are doing well! I was wondering if I could request a Tyler Owens x Reader enemies to lovers fic? I am such a sucker for that trope especially if it's like actually enemies who hate each other but then grow to care through shared experiences and learning about each other. Angsty and life and death stuff. Just super tropey lol”

AN: I’ve been trying a new writing style where I don’t write in the first person but rather the third person, but still using Y/N. Let me know what you guys think!

The sky was a bruised shade of purple.Tyler Owens was behind the wheel of his truck, eyes flicking between the horizon and the radar screen. He gripped the steering wheel, every fiber of his being tuned into the storm brewing in the distance. This was what he lived for—chasing the thrill, the danger.

Beside him, Boone and Javi were having a conversation about the best burgers in Oklahoma, but Tyler wasn’t paying attention. He was more concerned with staying ahead of the supercell that was beginning to form just over the ridge. His mind raced with calculations, predictions, and strategies, keeping track of the storm's trajectory in his head.

Then there was her.

Sitting in the backseat, quietly scrolling through the radar on her own tablet, was the new meteorologist Javi had brought onto the team. Y/N Y/L/N, the woman who had already gotten under Tyler’s skin.

“What do you think, Tyler?” Javi asked, peering over Tyler’s shoulder. “Y/N says we should head north and catch the storm as it loops back around.”

Tyler’s eyes snapped to the rearview mirror, catching Y/N’s gaze. Her eyes were sharp, confident—like she thought she knew everything there was to know about storms. It irked him.

“North?” Tyler scoffed, his voice laced with irritation. “We’re wasting time if we go north. The storm’s going to pivot east, not loop back. If you want to catch it, we need to stay on this road and head southeast.”

Y/N leaned forward, her expression calm but firm. “That storm’s got a hook echo forming. It’s going to swing north before it turns east. If we stay southeast, we’ll miss the rotation.”

“Miss the rotation?” Tyler barked a laugh. “I’ve been chasing storms for years, and I know this system. You’re just reading the radar. I can feel it.”

Her jaw clenched, but she didn’t back down. “You think I’m just looking at a screen? I’ve been in the field, too. And I’m telling you, if we don’t adjust course, we’re going to be too far south to catch anything.”

Javi glanced between them, trying to keep the peace. “Hey, guys, how about we—”

“I’m the leader of this team,” Tyler interrupted, his tone hard. “We’re sticking with my call. We go southeast.”

Y/N crossed her arms, frustration simmering beneath her composed exterior. Tyler knew she was good at her job—Javi wouldn’t have brought her on if she wasn’t—but that didn’t mean he had to like her stepping on his turf.

“I’ll be here when you realize you’re wrong,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

Tyler pretended not to hear, though her words festered in the back of his mind.

||

The next few days followed the same pattern. Y/N and Tyler clashed over nearly every decision—where to set up, what direction to head, even which equipment to use. The rest of the team, Boone, Javi, Kate, Lilly, Dani, and Dexter, watched their arguments like spectators at a tennis match, unsure of how to intervene.

“Maybe you should cut her some slack,” Boone suggested one evening after a particularly heated argument.

Tyler grumbled something incoherent and shook his head. Y/N was too smart, too stubborn, and way too sure of herself for his liking.

Later that night, while the others were fast asleep in the small roadside motel they were staying at, Tyler found himself unable to sleep. His mind was still buzzing from the day's chase, from the constant butting of heads with Y/N. He slipped out of his room and headed to the small, makeshift lounge area by the vending machines. To his surprise, Y/N was already there, sitting in one of the chairs with her nose buried in a weather report.

He hesitated, then finally walked over and sat down across from her. They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the low hum of the soda machine.

Finally, Tyler broke the silence. “Where’d you go to school?”

Y/N glanced up from her report, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“I asked where you went to school,” he repeated, a little softer this time. “I’m just curious.”

She closed her report and leaned back in her chair. “University of Kansas.”

“Really? That’s a good program.” Tyler couldn’t help but be impressed, though he kept his tone neutral.

Y/N shrugged. “It’s close to home. My dad’s still there, and since my mom died a few years ago, I didn’t want to leave him alone for too long.”

The admission caught Tyler off guard. He hadn’t expected her to open up like that.

“He’s the one who made me want to be a meteorologist,” she continued, a small smile tugging at her lips. “When storm season would roll around, he’d stay calm. No matter how bad it got, he’d explain what was happening so I wouldn’t be scared.”

Tyler was quiet for a moment, processing her words. “That’s…that’s pretty cool.”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes softer now. “Why did you start your YouTube channel? Seems like an unusual hobby.”

Tyler rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of how to explain. “I started it because if it helps even one person know what signs to look for, where to take shelter, and it saves lives…that’s the goal. Storms are dangerous, but the more people understand them, the better their chances.”

Y/N nodded, and for the first time, Tyler saw something other than frustration in her eyes. They had more in common than he realized. “I was a bull rider before this.” He spoke. Not sure why that was the first thing that came to his mind.

“Really?” She questioned. “Yeah, I was pretty good for a while. But too many bulls to the head, I wanted to get out before I became a vegetable. When deciding what to do next, I remembered how I felt during my first tornado. I knew I was supposed to be scared, my aunt was freaking out in the driver’s seat. But I couldn’t help but feel excited by it. Remembering that feeling helped me decide to go back to school.” Tyler explained.

“I guess you’re not all bad, Owens.” Y/N teased. “You’re not so bad either, Y/N.” Tyler replied, a small smirk on his face.

||

Tyler thought that after their late-night conversation, things might start to smooth out between them. But when they were out in the field the next day, the old tension returned.

Y/N was insisting they head west, while Tyler was adamant that they stick to the eastern route.

“You’re not thinking clearly!” Y/N snapped, pulling out her map and pointing to the storm's trajectory. “The data shows the storm shifting westward. If we don’t move now, we’re going to miss the funnel!”

Tyler’s frustration boiled over. “I’m the leader of this team, Y/N. My decision stands. Your opinion doesn’t matter.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and the effect was immediate. Y/N’s face fell, all the confidence and fire draining from her. Her lips pressed together, but she didn’t say anything. Just nodded and turned away.

As she walked back to the van, guilt gnawed at Tyler. He knew what he said had hurt her more than he intended. He knew the sting of being dismissed in a profession dominated by men, and he’d just done exactly that to her.

||

The storm that day was worse than any of them had expected. The winds picked up suddenly, driving rain slashing sideways across the open plains. They had barely made it into a small town when the tornado sirens began wailing.

“Get to the storm shelter!” Tyler shouted to the team over the howling wind.

Y/N was running beside him when something caught her eye. She stopped dead in her tracks, looking toward the edge of the street where a young golden retriever, still basically a puppy, was tied to a telephone pole barking frantically.

“Y/N, come on!” Tyler yelled, but she shook her head.

“I can’t leave him,” she shouted back, running toward the dog.

Tyler cursed under his breath and sprinted after her. “Y/N, you can’t—”

“I have to save him!” she interrupted, fumbling with the leash as the wind whipped around her, making it nearly impossible to untie the knots.

For a terrifying moment, Tyler thought they were both going to get swept away by the storm. Without thinking, he grabbed her hands and pulled them away from the leash, then used his pocket knife to cut it.

“Let’s go!” he urged, pulling her to her feet.

She scooped up the dog, and they ran together toward the storm shelter, barely making it inside before the worst of the storm hit.

Y/N collapsed against the wall, clutching the trembling dog in her arms. “Thanks,” she panted, a breathy laugh escaping her lips.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Tyler said, though his heart was still racing from fear, not anger.

She just smiled weakly in response.

||

When the storm passed, Y/N was outside, kneeling beside the dog and handing out food and water to the town’s residents who had been affected. Tyler watched her from a distance, unable to shake the fear he’d felt when he thought she wasn’t going to make it.

He walked over to her, his voice softer than usual. “That dog’s not going to let you out of his sight now.”

Y/N smiled, ruffling the dog’s fur. “He’s our new team mascot.”

Tyler crouched down beside her, his tone serious. “I was scared. I thought you weren’t going to make it. And it made me realize…I’ve been awful to you because I liked you. I was scared of how I felt.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You liked me?”

“Yeah,” Tyler admitted. “And I think…I think I still do.”

Y/N smiled, her voice soft. “Well it’s a good thing that I have feelings for you too, Tyler.” Tyler let out a light laugh before leaning in ever so slightly

Just as they were about to kiss, Boone appeared out of nowhere, grinning like a fool. “So, what’s the plan, lovebirds? Heading back on the road or what?”

Tyler groaned, but Y/N just laughed, the tension between them finally gone, like the storm that had just passed.

[helaintoloki]

Hi! Id loved to request a viktor x fem!reader! Maybe where the reader has powers as well and joined the family just like lila, but she starting to madly crushing on viktor but is afraid/doesn't know how to confess? Or if he even likes her back. (I've been crushing on elliot for so long 🤧) thank you! hope this is okay.

a/n: this is my first time writing for viktor so please excuse any inaccuracies!

summary: despite thinking that your crush on Viktor is completely one-sided, you’re pleasantly proven wrong

Your chin rests in the palm of your hand as you lean against the counter of the bar and watch from across the room as Viktor serves drinks and chats with his regulars. You take the time to admire his hair and wonder if he styled it differently today, and when he turns after sensing your stare and flashes a brief smile in your direction you find you stomach doing summersaults in return.

“You know you can just talk to him right?” Your fellow bartender Anne jests with a playful nudge to your ribs.

“I know that!” You scoff indignantly, your face heating with embarrassment at being caught ogling your friend and boss. “I just don’t want to bother him while he’s working is all.”

“You? Bother Viktor? The guy who personally asked you to start this bar with him? The same Viktor you share a place with?” She clarifies with a raised brow and feigned shock. You roll your eyes in displeasure at her teasing, but this only encourages her to continue. “I don’t get why you can’t just make a move already.”

“Because it’s complicated, okay?” You huff out in annoyance while defensively crossing your arms. “I just don’t want to mess everything up.”

You felt your insecurities of talking to Viktor about your harbored feelings for him were valid. Despite originally being a Sparrow, the Umbrella Academy had welcomed you into their group with open arms when you’d joined Sloane in becoming part of their team. Though Sloane hadn’t made it out of the elevator after you’d been transported to a new timeline, you had, and you swore you wouldn’t waste the chance at a new life in exchange for the universe’s mercy.

With the only other remaining Sparrow immediately bailing on your group, Viktor extended his kindness to you and offered for you to come with him on his fresh start. You had clicked rather quickly after joining the Umbrellas, so it only felt natural to follow him. You worked to get an apartment together, helped him start up his bar, and now you two lived a peaceful life free of any powers or family drama. It was a nice routine to fall into; you just didn’t expect that you’d also fall for him in the process.

And now here you were, working another shift at the bar while pathetically pining over a man who probably didn’t return your feelings. You’d never dare voice your feelings in fear of ruining not only your friendship with him but also in fear of losing your new family as well. It was complicated, and so you were fine with swearing yourself to secrecy and hoping the feelings would dwindle with time.

“If you don’t take a chance now another girl is going to come along and do it herself,” Anne warns much to your dismay before excusing herself to wipe down the nearby tables. Sighing, you let your head lower and hit the counter of the bar in defeat as you mull over her words.

“Hey,” Viktor says, almost appearing out of nowhere and startling you out of your internal pity party. “Table three wants a round of whiskey.”

“Oh, right, of course,” you stammer out before quickly getting to work. It takes all of your willpower to still the shakiness of your hands as you set out six glasses and begin to pour out drinks. Viktor watches on silently with a careful smile, and you’re so focused on not messing up that you don’t notice the way he admires you work.

“Doing okay today?”

“Can’t complain,” you reply with a weak chuckle before sliding the tray of drinks over for him to take. However, instead of leaving Viktor remains planted in front of you, almost hesitating as if unsure of his next words.

“Hey, so I was supposed to close tonight but I got Bill to cover me. Did you want to grab some dinner tonight?”

“Don’t we always grab dinner?” You reply with a raised brow, unsure of why he seems so nervous.

“I guess we do,” he admits with a sheepish chuckle. “But what I mean is, would you want to grab dinner together? Like a date?”

“Oh… oh!” You exclaim in shocked realization. A part of you almost doesn’t believe this is happening right now, and you discreetly pinch yourself beneath the counter to ensure you’re not dreaming. You’re quick to respond with a delighted smile, nodding as you say, “I’d really like that.”

“Great,” Viktor says with a grin. “Then it’s a date.”

You watch him finally take the tray and head back to table three, your heart racing in your chest and your mind working overtime to replay the moment over and over again in your head. After almost a year of pining you’re finally going on a first date with the man of your dreams. Maybe you really were wrong about the possibility of Viktor liking you back.

You can’t wait to tell Anne.

[shinysobi]

pretty u

summary: when joshua, your best friend gets engaged, you can't help but feel as though you're missing out on something important. jihoon, your other best friend, kindly offers to set you up with one of his many friends. chaos ensues, seungkwan is an observer who knows everything, and unfortunately, mingyu is a hapless victim.

pairing: woozi x fem!reader

genre: crack, fluff, angst

word count: 10k~ish

warnings: alcohol consumption, general warnings apply

a/n: this time we're bringing the trauma folks, im not sorry at all hehe >.< also this is dedicated to vaish and gigi, truly my biggest cheerleaders.

a/n 2: reblogs and comments are much appreciated! please tell me if you're liking this lmao

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3

Chapter 2

Someone yells as soon as I enter the restaurant, and I almost turn back on my heels and walk out of there. The culture desk is huddled around a large table, and judging from the empty bottles, half of them were well on their way to drunkenness already. I can spot Seungkwan at the end of the table, being the newbie, he must have been plied with alcohol by the rest of us. His entire face is slowly going red, and if I hadn’t been consumed with hatred over Jihoon being a weirdo, I would feel sorry for him too. But, he’s Jihoon’s friend, and any friend of Jihoon is an enemy of mine.

“The Associate Editor is here!” someone shouts, and I look on, horrified, as my editor, the boring, staid old man who wears the same style of suits five days in a row, waves and giggles at me, holding up a new glass of soju, “my, I thought you would never arrive. We’re all having a party without you!”

“Yes, I can see that,” I accept the offered glass, “sorry, the interview went on for much longer than I expected it to be, and the bus was stuck in traffic for a long time.”

“Just say that you didn’t want to come hang out with us,” the Assistant Editor, a woman in her forties, giggles, “we missed you so much!”

My breath is almost knocked out by the way she hugs me right after that statement, “no, I can assure you I wanted to come here. If not nothing, then just to congratulate the maknae on joining.”

“Huh?” the Editor blinks around, “oh yes, there’s Seungkwan!”

“Haven’t you given him too much to drink?” I ask, standing up to pour Seungkwan another glass, “Seungkwan, have fun in this department, okay?”

Seungkwan, drunk as he is, only mumbles something unintelligible, by way of a reply. Still, he accepts the drink and knocks it back, while the person next to him, Haewon, smiles drunkenly at me, “sunbae,” she says, “won’t you give me a drink?”

Haewon, unfortunately, has the habit of getting cutesy when she drinks, so I wordlessly extend the bottle to pour her another one. The Editor and the Assistant Editor are boisterous, singing a drinking song off-key.

“Can I get another bottle of soju here?” I call, and the surly-looking part-timer slams a bottle. He doesn’t even offer me a smile. Jerk.

“Drink up, drink up,” the Editor smiles happily, addressing the whole table, “did you know, she’s the only one who Mr Hong does an interview with?”

“Really?” Seungkwan perks up at that, “isn’t he famous for not giving any interviews?”

“He is, but she’s the only person who can get an interview with him.”

“Whoa, sunbae,” Seungkwan is all starry-eyed, which means he is definitely drunk, “I’ve always heard praises about you from the hyungs, but it’s all true! You’re legit.” And to drive home the point of my legitimacy, he hugs me, planting a huge, wet kiss on my cheek, “you’re my inspiration, sunbae.”

“Seungkwan, maybe the inspiration is a bit too much,” I reply, pouring myself a tall glass, “but I’ll accept it either way.”

“Wait, wait,” the Editor is suddenly interested in whatever Seungkwan is saying, “who are these people you’re talking about?”

“Oh, the hyungs?” Seungkwan is talkative even when he is not drunk, but alcohol has made him into one of the most loose-lipped people I’ve ever seen, “Jihoon-hyung, and Joshua-hyung. They’ve been friends since university, you know. They still hang out together.”

“Really?” Haewon looks interested, “are any of them the person you had lunch with this afternoon?”

“You had lunch with Joshua-hyung?”

“No, it was Jihoon,” I correct Seungkwan even though I don’t really need to, but it’s the alcohol, “Joshua doesn’t like the same things that I do.”

“Oh, is he your boyfriend?” Haewon giggles, and I sputter, “was that why he walked you to the company door?”

“No, Haewon, he isn’t my boyfriend, please drink some water.”

“No, no, I’m interested,” it’s a testament to how jobless we all are at the culture desk, because the Editor suddenly turns to Seungkwan with barely hidden glee in his eyes, “Jihoon, that’s his name?”

“Yes,” Seungkwan, who normally is the most tight-lipped out of all my acquaintances, is surprisingly talkative when drunk, “yes, Lee Jihoon. He’s the closest with her, out of all his friends. They even hang out all the time.”

I pour out some soju in a shot glass, then rethink it, drinking the rest of the bottle in one go. If this dinner goes on for any moment longer, they’re going to start speculating on my dating life. And based on what I’ve seen from the diner owner this afternoon, they’re going to assume that Jihoon and I are dating.

“Ah, so he’s the man you used to skip company dinners for,” the Associate editor says, “bring him around sometime! We’d all have fun!”

I’d rather stick my head in a vat of boiling acid than bring Jihoon to any place even remotely associated with my work, so I just nod and smile. Seungkwan, however, perks right up at this, saying, “do you want to see a picture of them?”

Enthusiastic cheers follow, from everyone at the table. I drink another half-bottle of soju.

“There you go!” does Seungkwan have all these pictures at the ready, or was he planning to make my life hell before participating in this dinner? Because the photo he’s pulled up is from the final year of university, when Jihoon and I were working on both our senior theses, and we’d spend a fair amount of that time huddled in between the stacks at the library, or over at each other’s apartments. The picture Seungkwan is brandishing around is from one of those days, and I would die before I admitted it to Jihoon, but I had a printout of it stuck on my wall. It’s a simple picture: Jihoon and I have our arms around each other, wide smiles on our faces, something that comes only after successfully finishing a gruelling paper, or from consuming too many snacks. Our cheeks are touching, and my free hand is thrown up in a victory sign.

“Ah, so you guys dated,” Haewon nods sagely, “that’s not a picture one takes with their friend.”

“No, this is—this is a very friendly picture,” I sputter, drinking more alcohol in an effort to dull the embarrassment that’s running through my veins, “we’re just friends.”

“I’ve seen couples who have less skinship than this.” The Assistant Editor says, “you both look very cute, I must say.”

On and on it goes, until both my ears have gone red, and still they go on, fuelled entirely by Seungkwan, who’s apparently a savant when it comes to remembering embarrassing incidents from university. Seungkwan. I’m gripped by a desire to commit murder, and it plainly shows on my face, but he goes on, unfazed by the looks I’m giving him, “they used to be practically inseparable during their university days! You could never see her without Jihoon-hyung, and if she wasn’t around, he would be irritable and angry all the time.”

“He’s still irritable and angry,” I murmur, senses highly dulled by the copious amounts of alcohol I’ve consumed. What’s my limit? One? Two bottles? I’ve drunk far more than that. My vision is swimming in front of my eyes, and everyone else’s words are coming slowly to my ears, as though filtered through sand. Is this how it feels to hear underwater? “he’s never—he’s never once been nice to me, you know that?”

“Really? He always takes care of you, though.” Seungkwan isn’t one to back down from an argument when its beginning, “I’ve always seen hyung take such good care of you.”

“Well, he doesn’t anymore!” I say, waving for another bottle, “He’s a little shit nowadays, have I told you that?”

“No, you haven’t. you don’t talk a lot.”

“That’s true.”

The third bottle (or is this the fourth) goes down far easier than the rest, and before I know, I’m stumbling out of the restaurant with the others, bundling the Editor into his car and the Assistant Editor into a taxi.

“Do all of you have money to go back home?” I ask the rest of them, but they’re already making plans to go on to the next spot. My watch says its midnight, but for people younger than me, it must be easier.

“Sunbae, do you want me to call you a taxi?” Seungkwan asks, but he’s tottering on unsteady feet, and I can see the longing looks he’s throwing the group of people who’ve started to move on without him.

“Go on, Seungkwan, I’m going to be fine by myself.” I wave a hand across my face, “it takes me ten minutes to walk back home, I’ll manage.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Seungkwan doesn’t need much convincing, and trots off to his colleagues. I sit there on the sidewalk for a long while, as the night sky swirls around me. I want to ask myself, why do I have to put myself through these situations? Why couldn’t I, like every other person, be normal about finding love and romance and relationships, and have a perfectly average life?

I dial the first number that comes on my screen, and a few moments later, Jihoon’s scratchy voice comes through, “you’re calling awfully late.”

“I’m bored.” I say, settling back onto the sidewalk, “Seungkwan and the others went for round two of the company dinner.”

“And they left you all alone?” Jihoon sounds irritated, “shit, he should have at least called you a cab.”

“I’m old enough to get home on my own, Lee Jihoon, and besides, I’m also sensible enough to not come in between the affairs of my juniors.”

“You’re slurring, I bet you can’t even stand up properly.” Jihoon says, “hey, give me your address.”

“I can stand up!” I protest, “why would I give you, my address?”

“So that, I can go pick you up.”

“Why are you suddenly doing this? It isn’t as though I’ve never gone home drunk from a dinner before.”

“Yes, but you’ve also never called me before, so, I’m going to pick you up.” I can hear other people talking in the background, “hey, wait there, I got the location from Seungkwan. I’m coming to pick you up.”

“Seriously, Jihoon, you don’t have to.”

“Well, thank goodness I don’t listen to you very much.”

And he’s gone. All at once, I feel terribly alone. Why didn’t I go along with Seungkwan and the others? Why did I have to be a good senior and leave the youngsters alone? All that I can do now, is to sit alone, and contemplate.

When I was in school, and studying for the college entrance exams, all I could think about was how to get into university. When I got into university, all I could think about was how to get a job. Now that I have a job, all I can think about are the banal, everyday details of my everyday life, what to eat for dinner, what clothes to wear, whether I’m getting a promotion or not.

“You look like a drowned cat.”

I look up. Jihoon is dressed for the studio, wearing a comfortable jacket over comfortable pants and plush slippers on his feet. Its evident he’s rushed over here from the company. I want to feel sorry for him, but all I can think about is how much he looks like a steamed dumpling, all cozied up in his studio clothes.

“I look nice.” I say feebly, looking at my clothes. I’m wearing a shirt and trousers, and a coat that I haphazardly threw on before leaving my home; he’s right.

“Get up.”

“No.”

Jihoon doesn’t waste any time, he leans down, forcing me to stand. “The car is right there,” he says, hauling me towards the direction of his new car, “if you vomit, I’m seriously going to kill you.”

“I don’t vomit after I drink. That’s on you.”

“That was once,” he sighs, as though he’s some long-suffering saint, “please wear your seatbelt. I’m not about to get a ticket because of you.”

“Hey, Jihoon?”

“Hmm?”

“Can we have a sleepover?”

He stares at me, halfway through fixing my seatbelt. Its funny, how pretty his features are. If I could extend my fingers just a little bit, I could touch him, feel exactly how many lashes he has, see if his skin is as smooth as it seems to be. My hands remain firmly at my sides. “What do you mean a sleepover?”

“I don’t want to bring you to my house,” I reply, settling into the seat, “it’s a mess.”

“Because you can’t keep a house.”

“No, I’m moving.”

“I thought you had time?”

“I’m being evicted, Jihoon,” I yawn, “Kim’s hiked the rent again.”

Jihoon sighs, before getting into the driver’s seat, “I’ll get you some of my clothes.”

“Hey, Jihoon,” I ask, as soon as the car begins to run, “why are we stuck?”

“Stuck?” he seems confused, “I thought I was the one who was stuck, not you.”

“I’m stuck too, just that I haven’t told anyone.”

“You’re not making any sense, you know.”

I sigh, “I’ve been running my entire life, you know. When I was younger, I’d constantly worry about what kind of university I would get into, what course I’d get to study. I was so busy with my studies that I didn’t notice that my school life was slipping past me.”

“When I came to university in Seoul, I thought I had achieved something, but everything I did, my sister had already done it before me; for my parents, I was just following the footsteps of my sister. In university, I thought so much about my grades and how to get a good job right out of university, that I forgot to enjoy the fleeting moments of my youth. Even now, even when I’m worrying about how to get ahead in life and how to get ahead in my workplace, I don’t think I’ve ever stopped for a single moment to think, am I doing this correctly? Is this how I want to live my life?”

“Did you waste your youth? Is that how you think about it?” Jihoon asks, “really, truly, is that how you think you spent your university life?”

“I worried about grades, I worried about how to pay my university fees, I worried about so many things. I just didn’t tell anyone.”

“Is that why you didn’t join the others?”

“I’m jealous.” I admit. Its easier now, when one has said the words that have been bothering them, “I’m jealous of their youth. No, I’m jealous of how carefree they are.”

“Everything I do, I think twice, thrice, and four times, before I settle on it, and even then, something always goes wrong.”

“What if you could do it all over again?” Jihoon asks, and I’ve never seen him this serious outside of the studio, “what if you could do it all over again. High school, university, meeting us. Would you have done it differently?”

I shake my head, “Its not that I’ve never thought about it, everyone has. But honestly? If I could do it all over again, I’d do the same. Perhaps a little more honestly, but I’d still be the same person I was in university. I’d still like to meet you and Joshua and the others, even if I can’t get as close to them as they want me to.”

“They’re very respectful of the face that you’re an introvert, just by the way.” Jihoon parks his car, “I think Jeonghan-hyung would commit some serious crimes if you asked him to.”

“He’d commit them either way. He likes the chaos.”

Jihoon’s apartment building is far larger than mine, and he holds my hand to stabilise me as we walk to the elevator. I’ve been here before, it’s a building populated entirely by old people who like to take walks at six in the morning, and young married couples who like to stroll with their children at night. His hand is warm, perhaps from the car.

The elevator is empty as we walk in, and Jihoon punches in the number for his floor, “do you need anything? A hangover cure?”

“I’m fine.”

His apartment is much bigger than mine, with a separate room for his recording equipment, and I’ve been here many times before. I know the couch has a  spot where the spring digs into your skin, I know the perfect spot from where the television hurts less on your eyes, I’ve spent hours in here divvying up the banchan his mother had sent from Busan, arguing with him about what movies we would watch. Everything is the same, and at the same time, different.

Jihoon is standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking in his refrigerator for something to eat. I make myself comfortable in one of the chairs, looking at him work. Jihoon looks strange in this light, a change that I can’t put my finger on. He’s dressed in a white shirt, and from here, he looks lonely. Lonely like someone who has lost all sense of their being, like someone who’s barely hanging on. Do I look the same, from behind? I want to ask him, how I look when I walk away.

“Would you really not change anything? If you went back?”

“What do you mean?”

He pauses, still with his back turned to me, then continues, “I guess we were all immature in our university days. If I could go back, I would change some things at least.”

“Not take that sociology class?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I’d still take it; even though it gave you an irrational fear of surveyors, I’d still take it. for me, that sociology class was one of the brightest moments of my university life.”

He turns to me, and under the bright lights of the kitchen, he looks strange, as though he has been restraining himself from doing something, “would you have changed anything?”

“I’d still take the sociology class,” I admit, “I met you and Joshua in that class after all.”

“And?”

“And it’s one of the brightest moments of my youth,” I say, “that class, it was the brightest spot in my university life.”

“Because of me, or because of Joshua?”

I scoff, “that’s a weird question, Lee Jihoon.”

“Answer the question.”

“I can’t choose.”

Jihoon sighs, before holding out a glass of water. “Its lemon water, drink up,” he says, “you can’t drink honey water.”

“You remembered?”

“I remember everything about you, you idiot,” Jihoon points towards the bedroom, “you’re going to hurt your back if you sleep on the couch, so take the bed.”

The bedroom seems inviting. So’s the bed, if I’m being honest. White sheets with an embarrassingly high thread count, with Jihoon’s books all arranged neatly in a bookshelf. There are pictures too, of us, hung up on a corkboard, half of them from university when we were too out of it to remember anything.

“This one is my favourite,” I say, pointing to a polaroid shot of the two of us, in one of Seungkwan’s birthday parties, me with my arms around Jihoon and Jihoon pulling a face, as though the last thing he wanted to do was take a picture with me, “we look so cute.”

“You and your ideas about cuteness.” Jihoon scoffs, throwing a pile of clothes onto the bed, “get changed. Or don’t, I’m going to be washing these sheets anyway.”

“You didn’t tell me which one’s your favourite,” I say, taking off my shirt and putting on Jihoon’s, “where do you even buy these shirts from? They’re so comfortable.”

“What do you mean?” Jihoon, who had been walking out of the door into the living room, walks back, “What the fuck! Don’t change your clothes anywhere, you idiot?”

I frown, “I’m changing in front of you because I trust you enough to not take advantage of me, is that not obvious? And besides, don’t act as though we haven’t changed in front of each other before.”

“There were circumstances, not you stripping in the middle of the bedroom like this.”

“Excuses,” I say, slipping on a pair of his shorts. They’re at least two sizes too big for me, “you still didn’t tell me which picture is your favourite.”

“You’re going to get killed one day, mark my words,” Jihoon mutters, pointing to a picture on the corkboard, “there, that’s my favourite picture of us. Happy?”

I lean forward, observing the picture. It’s a printout of a picture taken on the Jihoon went to the military, his head hidden under a flat cap that I had gifted after watching Peaky Blinders, and although Jihoon had hated it, he wore it all the same. It’s a simple picture, him with a bored expression on his face, and me, beside him, putting on a smile for the world to see.

“This was on the day of your entrance ceremony, right?”

“Hmm. You were the first to come. The others almost couldn’t make it.”

I look at Jihoon out of the corner of my eye. He has a strange, wistful expression on his face. I’ve never seen this expression on his face. Jihoon seems smaller than he is, vulnerable. The military wasn’t a great experience for him, I know that, but perhaps talking about it is too much.

“Hey, do you have any other pictures from university around?” I ask, looking at the corkboard, “or have you put up some of our new pictures?”

“I was happy in there, you know.”

I look at him. Jihoon’s serious, “I mean, it was difficult, but I got through it. I had my friends, and I had you.”

“Pfft. I wasn’t even in the military.”

“You used to come visit me every month or something.”

“And I remember you used to get annoyed by me.”

“I lied.”

“What?” now its my turn to be surprised, because all I remember is Jihoon getting angry with me over jajangmyeon, “You used to get pissed off all the time!”

“I lied,” he says, leaning against the doorframe, “truth be told, those visits were one of the bright sports in my military service. You and I, fighting over food, like we were back in university again. It made me feel, ah, I can tolerate this. I can get over this.”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Is this what they say ‘lost for words?’ Jihoon shakes his head, “hey, go to bed. Its late enough that you’ll need to take a leave of absence tomorrow. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Hey, Jihoon?” I call behind him.

“What now?”

Maybe it’s the alcohol. I’m not as drunk as I was before, but I’m still drunk, right? Or maybe it’s the way Jihoon looks from behind, sad and lonely, someone struggling to hold onto his sanity, in a world that continually squeezes every last drop of humanity from us. Or maybe its both.

“Do you want to sleep here with me?”

Jihoon stares at me for a moment. “You’re still drunk.”

“I’m not! The couch is very uncomfortable, and I’d hate for you to sleep badly because of me.”

“Dude, I’m used to this.”

“Is it because ‘you’re a guy’? Jihoon, you have thousand-count Egyptian cotton sheets. You’re clearly going to be more uncomfortable.”

Jihoon sighs, then climbs into the bed, “don’t try anything funny.”

I laugh, “shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“I don’t trust you.”

I laugh, before climbing into bed beside Jihoon. Its awkward, but that’s simply because we haven’t done this in so long. Jihoon is warm beside me, his body heat permeating the thin fabric of the bedsheets. This is why I should not make decisions when blind drunk.

“Don’t think too much about it.”

“Hm?” I turn my head to see Jihoon, his eyes closed, “you’re thinking about it too hard. Don’t think so much. This is fine. We’re friends. Friends can do this once in a while.”

I nod my head. We’re friends, right. Friends do these kind of things, friends come over to each other’s homes, friends comfort each other when drunk. Its what friends do.

“Hey, have I told you something?”

“I’m trying to sleep here,” Jihoon groans, “go on.”

“Have I ever told you that my dream was to be a writer?”

“Not really. It was?”

“Yes. When I was a child, I’d write stories all the time, and I’d read them out to my parents. They were really encouraging when I was younger, but as I grew older, I had other things to think about, and I suppose I lost that dream somewhere along the way.”

Jihoon says nothing, so I continue, “it makes me jealous sometimes, when I see people following their dreams. I keep thinking to myself, ah, if only I had more courage, if only I could stick to my dreams, I would have been able to fulfil them; and then I look at my parents, the people who have stuck beside me and supported me, and I think to myself, would I have been able to support them as well as I do now, if I had followed my dreams?”

“Even me?”

I pause, “Especially you.”

Jihoon sighs, and for five minutes, all I can hear is his breathing, steady and slow. Did he fall asleep? I want to ask him what he thinks, but before I can open my mouth, he begins, “You still have that dream, you know.”

I look at him. Jihoon’s eyes are closed, but he’s speaking, softly, as though he’s scared that if he raises his voice, all this would disappear, “you can take a break. Its okay to take a break. But your dream is your own. It’ll always be there for you.”

“And what if I decide to give up?”

“Then that’s okay too. Just because you gave up on it doesn’t mean it didn’t give you happiness for a time.”

I fall silent, because really, what else is there for me to say after this? In the dark room, the moonlight filters in through the curtains, and Jihoon is there, beside me, his presence solid as a rock. In between us, my dreams lie, scattered and broken, a space that neither of us can cross. We’d always be on opposite sides of the river, me and Jihoon, despite how close we are. I’ll always resent him for being brave enough to follow his dreams, and he’ll always fail to understand who I am. Its better this way. Better to be far apart and resentful than be close and drift apart anyway. I’ll take this emotional distance over a physical one.

—

I wake up in the morning to find Jihoon gone, and a cooked breakfast waiting for me on the table with an attached note: don’t think too much about it.

“He’s the one who needs to think less,” I mutter, settling down to finish the omurice he’s made, (the onions were raw and the egg was rubbery) but it has been a long time since I’ve had anyone make me a meal, and I finish the entire dish, washing up in return. It’s fine if he doesn’t want to see me, its fine if he doesn’t even want to talk to me after I said that I was jealous of him; its common nature to avoid the other person if they are jealous of you, or if they are envious of you. “Still, he could have said good morning.” I murmur, putting on my shoes.

 For all Jihoon’s posturing about how much he loves his private space and how much he hates the chaos the rest of the boys bring, he still lives in the same building as Mingyu, whose door I tiptoe past on the way to the elevator. Wait, why am I ashamed? I’ve spent a lot of time in Jihoon’s apartment, and he’s spent an equal amount of time in mine. Then why am I treating this as a walk of shame?

I press the button to the elevator, and Mingyu’s door opens. Oh shit, now he’s going to see me—wait, I thought we were going to be normal about this? Before I can hide in the stairs, Mingyu’s walking over to the elevator, dressed for the day, his face lighting up when he sees me, “hi, noona. Crashed at Jihoon-hyung’s house?”

“Ah. Ah, yes, yes, I did. I simply slept over. Nothing else.” I manage to say, stumbling through my words. Great, now he’s going to think Jihoon and I had sex.

Fortunately for me, Mingyu doesn’t seem like the sort of person to take things to heart. “I didn’t imply anything else,” he says equally brightly, showing no signs of being awkward, “Seungkwan told me you all got wasted on a Monday night. Do you want me to give you a lift?”

“Yeah, that would be really nice, thank you. Also, blame our editor and assistant editor,” I reply, “they seem to have no sense of how to host company dinners. At least this time I didn’t have to pay out of my own pocket.”

“You had to pay out of your own pocket?” Mingyu looks aghast, as though my loss of funds is a personal slight, “that would never fly in my company.”

“Yeah, that tracks. Minghao always hated large get-togethers.”

“No, he didn’t.”

I roll my eyes, “he didn’t hate them when it was you guys. He absolutely hated them when he was forced together with a group of people he didn’t like.”

“Oh, you’re talking about that. He’s much better now, I can assure you.” Mingyu says, as the elevator dings to a stop, “noona, did you get the new clothes from the autumn collection? I sent you the women’s collection. I didn’t know what size you were, so I asked Jihoon-hyung for help. Did they fit well?”

“Kim Mingyu, if you give me new clothes from every collection, then how the hell are you going to  make any profit?” I ask, and he just laughs, “you’ve been sending me all these clothes when I don’t even post on Instagram! Minghao would have your head if he knew about this.”

“That’s his idea,” Mingyu replies, walking ahead of me to the parking lot, “you spent so much on us during university, then when M.M launched, you wrote a good review of us too.”

“I’m going to be accused of biased reporting, you jerk, I only said the truth. And besides, I left the job at the fashion magazine.”

“Still, you helped us a lot. And besides,” he opens the door to his car for me, “step in.”

“And besides?” I ask, putting on the seatbelt.

“Besides,” Mingyu gets into the car, “I like you a lot, noona.”

I smack him on the back of his head.

—

The office is empty when I walk in, which means I get to have five minutes of peace before the Editor walks in and demands all the articles of the week laid out in front of him, because of course, who else would take on all the jobs of the culture desk if its not for me, the Associate editor, the one who’s supposed to be happy to be included? Every week, the culture desk does a special feature, and usually, the assistant editor is in charge of it, unless, they decided to tack it onto my ever-growing list of things that need to be done.

“Sunbae,” I swivel around my chair to find a haggard-looking Seungkwan, “you’re here already?”

“Yes, I am, Seungkwan,” I tease, “are you feeling better?”

“Ugh, my brain feels as though it’s about to leak out of my ears.” Seungkwan mutters, sliding into his desk, “and we have the weekly meeting too, unless the editor isn’t feeling well enough to come in.”

“He’s got an iron stomach,” I wave, “he once came in after being blackout drunk, this isn’t even a big deal.”

Seungkwan groans, then opens his mouth to say something, stopping abruptly at the sight of my clothes. “Sunbae,” he says, “did you borrow those clothes from Jihoon-hyung?”

“What? I’m wearing my own clothes—” I look down at my shirt. Sure enough, its Jihoon’s shirt, the one he made to give as presents to give out to famous people who visited his studio. I can’t even lie and say that it’s from a former boyfriend. Fuck. “Yes, I crashed at Jihoon’s place last night. Was too drunk to take a cab, and he let me stay over at his place.”

“That makes a lot of sense.”

“Yes, yes it does. wait, why am I even explaining it to you? You were the one who ditched me to go for a second round at the karaoke bar.”

At the mention of the karaoke bar, Seungkwan presses two fingers to his temple, “don’t even start me on that. The people here drink so much, its sickening.”

“Who drinks a lot?” it’s the editor, with a pained smile on his face, “remind me never to host company dinners on Monday evenings.”

“I could have told you this before, sir, except you didn’t really listen to me.”

He shakes a finger, “then remind me to listen to you on matters of company dinners. God, my head hurts so much.”

Soon enough, people start filtering into the office; Haewon comes in with dark circles underneath her eyes that are barely hidden by makeup, the assistant editor walks in soon after that, nursing a bottle of hangover cure. The seven of us pile into the meeting room, where the editor looks as though he wants to be anywhere but here.

“The bosses have asked me to start a new column,” he says, after the larger part of the meeting is over, “just a general column, but new ideas will be appreciated.”

“A column on new books?” Haneul asks, “we could have a dedicated column on books.”

“We review every new book when it comes out, there’s no need to have a dedicated column for book releases.”

“Relationship advice?” Changmin raises his hand, “we could have readers send in their concerns, and one of us could write about them.”

“This isn’t Sex and The City, Changmin,” Haewon says, “stop trying to be Carrie Bradshaw.”

Changmin deflates, looking exactly like the stock photo of a blobfish, and Seungkwan decides to step in, “what if we did a comparative study of cultures across Korea? We could talk about provinces that aren’t really explored in media.”

An excellent idea, I think to myself, but too research-heavy for Seungkwan to do it himself. And sure enough, the editor shoots it down, saying, “we can’t spare two people going around Korea to find out about traditional villages. We don’t have the money, nor the manpower for it.”

Everyone sighs, and the editor looks at me, “any ideas?”

[Here we take a small break from our regular programming to tell readers that the following stunts were performed by a professional, under medical supervision, and must not be replicated in real-life situations.]

“What about—dreams?” I say, scrunching up my face and hoping the editor doesn’t notice my lack of preparation for this meeting, “what if, we had a weekly column where we talked about our dreams. Whether we have managed to achieve them, or whether we have only gone further away from it; like a confessional. One of us could write it, or we could have readers send in their entries. Like Hong Seung-Hee’s Suicide Diaries.”

The editor ponders over it for a minute, then looks to the assistant editor, who nods appreciatively. Great, I think, I’ve managed to save my ass. If there was anyone being reprimanded at this meeting it would not be me.

“You do it.” the editor says.

“Huh?”

“The column on dreams, you do it, since its your idea.” The assistant editor smiles encouragingly at me, “I think it’ll be something really good.”

“No, but,” I sputter, even as the rest of them shuffle out of the meeting room, “Editor! Why can’t you just take credit for my work like the rest of bosses?”

The editor looks at me, “why would you want me to do that?”

“I don’t know, it’s what others do!”

“Look,” the editor says, voice gentle, as though he’s speaking to a fragile toddler, which I can’t even blame him for, “if the workload is getting too much, you can always offload some of it onto us.”

“No, I can do it.”

Back at my desk, I groan, before almost smacking my head open on it. Seungkwan offers me a smile, before setting down a coffee. Bless that boy. I knew pulling something out of my ass would get me into trouble. If I hadn’t spoken up, they would still be considering Seungkwan’s idea of going around the countryside. At least that would mean a vacation on office time and office money, this just means I have to work twice as hard.

And why the fuck did I talk about dreams? I could have talked about esoteric theatrical performances, or trends in trot music, or even the different kinds of marinated crabs they sell around the company building (there are seven different restaurants that offer it), why, why, did I have to go and open my mouth to talk about dreams? Out of all the people here, I’m perhaps the least qualified to talk about my dreams, given how spectacularly I’ve managed to fail at following them, and the deadline is in three days.

“What are you thinking about, sunbae?” Haewon asks, depositing another can of coffee on my desk around lunchtime, “you’ve been working like a maniac all morning, aren’t you going to take lunch?”

“Can’t, Haewon, still have to put finishing edits on the three articles that are supposed to release this afternoon. Then I have to start working on the column, because I know its going to take me a long time to finish it.”

“Wow, you sure work hard,” Haewon grimaces, “well, if you need me to pick up something for you at the convenience store, make sure to text me.”

“Hey, Haewon,” I call after her retreating back, “where’s the article on the new movie?”

“Its in your inbox, I just sent it to you,” she calls out, “should I get you a lunch set?”

“Thanks!”

My eyes are itching. Perhaps from having stared at the computer screen for too long, but I take out my contacts in the washroom, instead of putting in lubricating drops. While on the toilet seat, I make a mental note of all the things I’m supposed to do, just in this week. Edit articles as they come by. Write a review of the play I went to. Write a new column, get it approved by the editor. Make amends with Jihoon. Look for a new apartment that doesn’t bleed me dry.

I moan as I press my hands to my temples, “there’s no way I can get this done in a week.”

My phone pings, and it is embarrassing how quickly I reach for it, hoping it to be a text from Jihoon. Its not. Instead, its Mingyu, texting me about my health.

Gyu: noona, you didn’t seem well in the morning. Should I get some medicine for your hangover?

I crack a smile. Having Kim Mingyu show up on the doorstep of my company would imply him being accosted by thirty people at least, and have his photo taken without his consent. It’s bad enough I took his car to come to the office this morning.

big dick (canon): no, Mingyu, please don’t put yourself in harm’s way by bringing me medicine.

Gyu: Minghao can do it too

Gyu: he hasn’t seen you in a while so he said he was missing you

Gyu: should I send him?

big dick (canon): no, I’m fine, Seungkwan brought me a hangover drink from the convenience store.

This is a lie, but I figure Seungkwan doesn’t really have anything to lose by featuring as the Good Samaritan in my story.

Gyu: tell me if there’s something I can do for you

Gyu: you know that we’re all there for you, right?

Ah, this cursed statement, ‘being there for you’. In my experience, people who say this, are rarely there for others. Everyone says it with such sincerity, but when it comes to the actual thing, they are rarely anywhere to be found.

big dick (canon): thanks for the offer, but I’m fine. Just a bit frazzled from all the apartment-hunting I’ve been doing over the weekends.

Gyu: no luck yet? I heard from Joshua-hyung that your lease was up

big dick (canon): he’s told all of you?

Gyu: no, just the guys

big dick (canon): so, everyone.

Gyu: well, unfortunately,  everyone’s aware. Sorry, noona.

big dick (canon): well, what else can I do about it.

Gyu: I can ask the other guys to not ask you about it

big dick (canon): no, no, if they can help, I’m going to be grateful

gyu: so, do you want me to help?

big dick (canon): yeah, what the fuck,  it's not as though I'm going to lose something by asking for help. 

Gyu: I'll ask my contacts if they have an affordable apartment around

big dick (canon): While this is a blow to my pride, I’d still be grateful if I can manage to get a good place that doesn't cost me an arm and a leg

gyu: on it, noona.

Back at my desk,  I trawl through the columns submitted by the reporters, adding edits to them to be published. One of the few perks of my job is the freedom I get while editing articles, because the editor and the assistant editor are both busy with administrative works to be bothered about the day-to-day works of the desk. To be fair, the new column should have been one of their duties, but now that it's my work,  I need to do my best.  Or at least,  not fuck up in a way that ends up with me being fired. 

Haewon, the absolute angel,  has brought a lunch set for me from the convenience store, with fried chicken and green salad. The chicken is rubbery, and the salad is stale, but to my groaning stomach,  it's all delicious. I pull up the word file sent by Seungkwan, and I'm not even two minutes into editing it,  when my phone pings again. I check it, hoping for a text from Mingyu, but instead, it's a text from Jihoon, who is apparently not ignoring me any longer. 

hoon: are you asking Mingyu of all people for help with your apartment search?

big dick (canon): he offered to help me, and I am not going to turn down help offered by anyone

hoon: you could have just asked me

big dick (canon): you left abruptly this morning,  so I thought you were ignoring me. Hence, I didn't want to bother you

hoon: get this concept clearly,  okay?

big dick (canon): what concept

hoon: you're my friend. Friends are allowed to help each other, even if the other person is a weirdo

hoon: how long do you have on the lease?

big dick (canon): not much,  but I can’t find an apartment that fits my needs. They are either out of the way, or too expensive, or just straight up bad

big dick (canon): I don’t want to spend an hour on my commute that’s going to eat into my free time

big dick (canon): and I don’t want to spend too much on a flat when I’m clearly going to be renting

big dick (canon): you know, usual demands

hoon: the flat next to mine is empty

big dick (canon): doesn’t someone live there?

hoon: you’re in luck, no one does

big dick (canon): keep feeling like there’s a catch that I’m missing

hoon: about that, well

hoon: the reason why its empty and people don’t get it is because an old lady died in there

hoon: so, you might be haunted by ghosts

big dick (canon): that’s an extremely stupid reasoning

big dick (canon): do you know the realtor

hoon: I don’t, since she’s new, but

hoon: I’ll call her and say that you want to see the apartment

big dick (canon): you’d do that omg thank u

hoon: in return

hoon: please cook for me

big dick (canon):KNEW THERE WAS A CATCH

hoon: I’m lazy and I don’t like to cook

hoon: too much prep too much clutter

hoon: I could use that time to make music instead

big dick (canon):ah yes, the great Woozi makes his appearance

big dick (canon): can I see the apartment this week

hoon: yeah, I’m done with this song, so I have a bit of free time before preparation for Soonyoung’s new album begins

big dick (canon): Hoshi is coming out with an album omg this is INSIDER SCOOP

hoon: are you for real? The company announced it in the beginning of the financial year

big dick (canon): right, I keep forgetting

big dick (canon): I totally remembered btw

hoon: I’ll pick you up at 5 if that’s okay

big dick (canon): yeah, that works

—

The realtor is a fifty-year old woman with an extravagant puff on her head, who glosses over the supposed ghosts living in the apartment and goes entirely too hard on trying to sell me the apartment. And she didn’t even need to, because I would have taken it anyway.  It’s less of an apartment meant for a singular person and more for newlyweds, with two rooms, a large enough living room, and on top of it all, a kitchen with plenty enough light for me to grow my own plants. The bedroom faces south, and there’s enough space in the living room for me to host my friends (two of them) when they come over. I can just tell Mr Kim I’m leaving the apartment tomorrow. He’s probably been itching to find another naïve university student to fleece.

“This is great,” I say, after the tour is over, “I’ll take it.”

“Great! This will be just perfect for the two of you.” The old woman titters, “I love selling newlywed houses!”

What?

I look at Jihoon, who seems just as surprised as I am, “uh, ma’am, we aren’t married.”

Now its her turn to look surprised, “what do you mean you’re not married? You guys look exactly like a married couple!”

“No, ma’am,” Jihoon says, “she’s my best friend. I’m only helping her get an apartment at a good price.”

“Ah yes, friends, is it?” there’s a twinkle in the old woman’s eye that I can’t quite place, “we’ll see about that, eh?”

“Uh, no, no one is seeing anything about it, because we aren’t dating, nor are we married.”

—

“There is only one perk to living in a hovel like a broke university student for six years after university, and that is the amount of money one saves in their bank account.” I say, taking a sip out of the shared kimchi jjigae pot, “I don’t even have to get a big loan out of the bank to pay for the deposit.”

“Are you that happy?” Jihoon asks, “you’ve been smiling non-stop since signing the agreement. You know, you could have seen more apartments, right?”

“No, this one is the best,” I say, “the kitchen has space for plants, there’s a veranda, the bedrooms are big, but not too big, you know? Just the perfect size.”

“The perfect size?”

“Yes, you know, the perfect size, not too small that it feels suffocating, not too big that it feels depressing. Just the right amount of cozy.”

“You’re crazy.” Jihoon says, “that’s some crazy-person logic right there.”

“I’m not!” I protest, but there’s no real spite in Jihoon’s words, and its almost as though he’s bickering with me to continue to keep things normal, or at least, as normal as they come.

“About the other night,” he begins, “you don’t have to feel envious of me that way.”

“I’m sorry about the other night. Admittedly, I was drunk.”

Jihoon stares at me. “Really? Are you going to pull the ‘I was so drunk I forgot’ trick? On me?”

“Uh, obviously, no.”

“So, you were.”

I grimace, and Jihoon sighs, “look, if you want to forget about this, you can, and I’ll pretend as though nothing happened that night, and you said nothing, we’ll move past it as we always do. but envy, jealousy, these are all important emotions, and I think you should at least try to talk to someone about it.”

“I’m talking to you.”

“Not me, I mean an impartial party.”

“Like a therapist?” I narrow my eyes, “Are you calling me insane?”

“What? No! I’m not saying that you’re crazy, I’m just saying that you might need to talk to someone outside of me and Joshua once in a while.”

“I talk to Eunseo. And Seungkwan. And the people at the newsdesk.”

“None of these people are impartial listeners, and besides, you don’t even go out much!”

“I’m out with you right now!”

Jihoon sighs, “yeah, I get it, going to therapy sounds difficult. But I really think you need to—”

“And since when are you the arbiter of my needs and wants?” my voice comes out sharper than I intended, and Jihoon just stares at me with a mix of shock and awe and something I can’t quite explain, “you can come and sit here and tell me that you think I should go to therapy, but have you ever paused to take a moment to understand what I need? I don’t need someone to tell me what I need to do, I already know that! I just need someone to be there for me, even when I sound stupid and petty and foolish.”

“Do you always need to take things this far?”

“This far? Why is it always me taking things ‘this far’ with you, Jihoon? Why can’t you stop for a moment, and try to look at things from my perspective for once?” I pause for a moment, chest heaving, “this won’t do, I can’t bear to sit down and eat a meal with you right now.”

With this, I storm out of the restaurant, Jihoon running behind me, “hey, look, we can just talk it—”

“I don’t want to talk things out with you!” there are people staring at me, but I just cannot bring myself to care right now, “you’ve kept pushing the idea of me sleeping with people ever since you found out about my feelings. Have you ever stopped to ask if that’s something I really want?”

“Then tell me!” Jihoon’s yelling too, the two of us on a busy street in a late autumn evening, screaming at each other, “you never tell anyone anything! I’ve been friends with you for six years, and I still don’t know anything about you! What is it that you actually want? Why won’t you let me help you?”

“Because I’m scared!”

Jihoon stops, stunned. Terrified. There’s no other way to explain the expression on his face. I continue, “because I’m terrified that I’ll do something wrong. All my life, I’ve lived in the fear of doing something wrong, of letting people down. What happens when I take a step forward? Will it be the right decision? Will I do something wrong again? I’ve always thought that, and now, when you keep telling me to take a step, I’m terrified, Jihoon. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

There. Now I’ve said it. “I think we should stop talking to each other for a while, Jihoon,” I say, walking away from him, “with you, I’ll always think of the ‘what if’s’ and I’ll be stuck anyway, but this time, I’ll be terrified, and I’ll fail. I don’t want that for myself, and you deserve better than a friend who’s like me.”

—

What are dreams? Are they something that your inner child holds on to, in the hopes of a better future, or are they something that the adult of now, works toward? I’ve always thought about what dreams meant to me, and I’ve always come up short.

The psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud interpreted dreams as the manifestation of our subconscious mind, a look into our unfulfilled wishes. But this is the scientific interpretation. what does it actually mean, to be able to dream?

When I was younger, I dreamt of a happier existence. An existence where I was fulfilled, or better yet, my desires were fulfilled. I kept dreaming, and dreaming, and dreaming, until one day I woke up and felt myself in a foreign land where dreams held little meaning.

In truth, that is our reality. A foreign land where we are forced to give up on our childhood dreams, and become grown-up adults. The definition of a dream changes too, from the manifestation of our inner desires, to mere scientific fact, neurological phenomenon whereby we can ascertain the quality of our sleep. Is this what we are doomed to become? To go on with our lives from day to day, doomed to repeat the cycle until we die one day?

When I was young, I dreamt of being a writer. I wanted to weave worlds with my words, perfect the craft of storytelling until my words brought comfort to people. I wanted to be someone whose words could be someone’s comfort, someone’s pillar to lean on when distressed. But that was when I was a child. As I grew up, I realised, ah, this is the real world, a place where my words of comfort held no meaning for anyone. I struggled against it, because I could not accept my reality. I failed. The world was too big, too cruel for me to hold on to the foolish dreams of a five-year old, and I woke up to my reality. Now, my words bring no comfort to anyone, because they are no longer my own. My words don’t belong to me, and neither does my dream. It is something I’ve kept locked in a box, hidden amidst my childhood belongings.

I am an adult. I envy people, I get jealous of people, I hold petty grudges. It’s who I am. I envy people who have achieved their dream, I envy people who are working towards their dream, because it reminds me of a five-year old child, whose dreams I allowed the world to crush. And they didn’t deserve that. None of us do.

So, for all of you who are working towards your dreams, may they be fulfilled someday. And for those who have given up on our dreams. It will be okay. Even if we gave up on it, even if it is distant from us now, it doesn’t mean we weren’t happy once.

—

“That’s the last of it,” Joshua pants as he hauls up a flowerpot into my kitchen, “why do you have so many plants?”

“So that I can save on groceries.”

“Wow, noona, you’re really sensible,” Mingyu says, “should I keep a plant in my home as well?”

“You can barely keep a rock alive, Mingyu, and that’s me being nice.” Joshua mutters, laid out on the sofa, “this is not how I imagined my day off to be going.”

“I enjoyed today,” Mingyu jumps up form his seat on the floor, “do you want jajangmyeon?”

“I just ordered it,” I say, settling down in a chair, “wow, this is nice.”

The flat is piled high with furniture, but the majority of it had been done by movers the previous day. My landlord, who hated the sight of me, even patted me on the back and said he was sorry to see me go. Weird. But, now that I’m in my own room, with enough sunlight and air and a new place to start over again, I can feel myself growing happier. Is it something related to places? Can they really affect mental statuses? “I should host a housewarming party later on, when I’m all settled in?”

“Really?” Mingyu perks up at the idea of a party, “you’ll invite all the others too?”

“Yes, I’ll invite everyone.”

“Great!” he’s already on his phone, “Jeonghan-hyung will be so happy to see you again.”

“I haven’t seen him in months,” I muse, “god, I don’t think I’ve seen all thirteen of you together in months, now. Or has it been a year?”

“Probably a year,” Joshua groans, “the last time we met up was at Chan’s welcome back party. Ugh, my back is killing me.”

“Old man,” Mingyu laughs, “shouldn’t you be at home with your fiancée?”

“Eunseo asked me to help out since she couldn’t come.” Joshua clarifies, “she was the one who was asked initially.”

“Makes sense.” Mingyu nods sagely, then jumps up at the sound of the doorbell, “food’s here!”

This is how it should be. Life. Surrounded by friends, surrounded by people who make you laugh. If this is how I can live here, then I’ll be happy, I think. But happiness is a difficult construct, and an ephemeral state of being for me, always slipping out of my grasp.

“Noona, where is Jihoon—” Mingyu gets a swift kick to the ass for that sentence from Joshua, and my smile dies away on my face.

True, no one has commented on it, not at the office, nor between friends, but I can practically feel Seungkwan’s curiosity burning every time I take lunch by myself, or I go out to meet people out of office, and come back alone. I haven’t been attending Sunday morning brunch with Joshua and Jihoon either, and both Joshua and Eunseo have kept quiet about it, but sooner or later, someone would have to speak up. Its unusual, having Jihoon away from me, without his voice being a constant presence in my life. Now, even with him living next door to me, I can’t reach out. The metaphorical rift has now become real.

“He’s busy,” I say, trying to change the subject, “I think he’s busy with Hoshi’s new project.”

That gets Mingyu’s attention, and he starts talking about how his and Minghao’s company is the one who’s dressing Soonyoung for his comeback, and how Soonyoung keeps wanting custom tiger-print stuff, until I can comfortably lean back and just laugh along at his words, trying not to think too much about Jihoon.

Later that night, as I’m climbing into bed, exhausted, the doorbell rings again. I’m dressed in pyjamas, with a pair of fluffy slippers on my feet, and the sound of the bell makes me wary. Who could it be, at—eleven at night? All of a sudden, I’m gripped with all the things I’ve heard on true crime podcasts, about the perils of single women living alone.

Wait, you’re thinking too much. It’s probably Mingyu, dropping something off. Right, that’s it. it could be Mingyu.

I open the door a little, “Mingyu, could you come back in the morning? I’m tired—”

“Do I look like Mingyu to you?”

In my shock, the door swings wide open. Its Jihoon, dressed like he’s come home running from work, the tip of his nose pink. He’s dressed casually again, in a white jacket over a black t-shirt. In comparison, I look and feel horribly underdressed.

“Look,” Jihoon begins, “am I too late?”

“For?”

“Is there nothing I can do to repair this friendship? Am I too late?” he grabs my hands, “I’m sorry, I’ll apologise a thousand times if you want. I stayed away from you because you wanted me to, but I can’t. I can’t give you up as a friend. I need you in my life.”

“Jihoon,” I open my mouth to say something, but my heart starts beating erratically. Is this normal? I look at Jihoon again, wide-eyed, evidence of tears on his cheeks, and I can’t do anything but nod my head.

Fuck. I’m screwed.

[sanzaibian]

Congrats on 1,000! I was hoping you could give me a haircut! I always wondered what if look like with a pompadour or soemthing like that

“Welcome to the normal barbershop ! Thank you for choosing our service !” You are welcomed as soon as you set foot inside the building. “You will be accompanied by Rilaj Mam, an associate of Dr. Davod, who is known for having studied all sorts of arts of the hair. - Please call me Rilaj, using mam makes me feel old !” A voice is being heard from further inside the shop. - Sorry, but it’s in your namecard !”

As those two bicker, you approach the place where this mysterious man is, and find a quite small man, dark-skinned, folded eyes, and silky black hair arranged in a man bun – although the rest of the head is flawlessly shaved down to the skin. He wears colorful clothes, including a big bandana, and presumably the large hat and the pair of sunglasses that have been put down on the counter, all hiding what your trained eyes recognize as a ripped body.

But when you come just a little but closer, that short guy, presumably Rilajn suddenly turns to you – almost looking up to you – and smiles, full of kindness, though there is a tinge of malice behind his pitch black eyes.

“No matter ! I now have work to attend to !” He finishes the bickering, before addressing you. “I was waiting for you ! Please take place on this seat !”

You oblige, finding the seat to be extremely comfortable, much more than most barbershops you’ve ever been to. Almost too comfortable, considering this shop is temporary, after all… However, you’re here to relax and change hairstyles. Your hair has grown quite a lot since last time, and it’s about time you arrange it up. And trying a new style is just the cherry on top.

“So…” Rilaj, the barber, starts, coming with a bottle full of a weird black substance. “I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that… your hair is way too short to make a good enough pompadour. You should have come in like… two months or three to have enough length to do what you wanted.”

You look at him disappointed. As if to prove it, he takes a strand of hair from the very front of your mop and drops it down your face, only reaching the base of your nose. And this shop is going to be closed by the time you grow enough hair, so although you can always come to another later, shelling out money for what is simply a bit of a silly tryout feels pointless.

“However, the good news is that I have a way to make a great pompadour thanks to my very special technique. So… are you interested ?” The barber offers with a malicious voice.

Still taken by your disappointment, you don’t think much and, foolishly, you agree immediately. You see his smile grow, as you are regretting having agreed so quickly while not considering what this technique is.

“Great ! Well, we shall start with a bit of trimming, no ? ‘Cause your hair might not be long enough, but it still needs shaping for this new cut !”

He draws out clippers and installs on it quite a big guard. Then, he turns it on, and starts mowing at your hair, tufts of it dropping from the sides of your head. His cutting style is quite peculiar, though, using the clippers only bit by bit, tuft by tuft, as if he was cutting with scissors. However, when he has finished one side of your head, continuing by working on the back, letting yet more strands of hair fall, you notice that the result is very regular, with each hair the exact same short size.

Somehow, that unorthodox technique works, and you are left with a great and very soft carpet of hair – which you were able to feel once he put down the clippers. Then, he draws out some scissors, of which one side is shaped in a sort of comb-like structure. He explains to you how it will make your hair less dense, which will make it easier to style, and better able to receive the special technique.

As he chops down some hairs on top, making the remainder of the mop lighter, you notice how silent he is throughout the whole ordeal. Although he seems like quite a jovial guy, even quite chatty at times, he doesn’t seem to be like other barbers, pulling you into discussions about what you did recently, or other mundanities. But looking at his pitch black eyes, matching his pitch black hair, you feel a weird sense of… tiredness ? coming from him. You can’t quite describe it, but as is always said : the eyes are the door to the soul. And behind the eyes you feel a truly ancient soul.

“That’s about it ! Now we’re coming to the good stuff !” Rilaj suddenly pulls you out of your thoughts. “Let me just show you…”

He takes the bottle of black stuff in his hands, and presents it to you through the mirror, before uncapping it.

“This is what I call nuuch’ay ! Don’t try searching it, you won’t see anything about it on the web. It’s an old tradition from my people, forgotten today, but that is very potent.”

He starts dropping it on your hair. It has a very slimy texture, and drops slowly. Looking at its pitch black but slightly shiny form, it almost looks like rubber… Once the bottle is fully emptied out, he puts it away on the counter. You look at it and notice a label, on which there is something written. You can’t understand it, the letters spell words you haven’t seen anywhere, but you do note that the handwriting is very neat and elaborate. It’s the kind of style that would belong in a historical document.

“Now, let me just rub it all in, and then I’ll be able to… pull your hair out of your head, let’s put it like that.”

You are quite disturbed by this. As he is spreading the black goo, you’re wondering about what kinds of irreversible damage it would make to your hair… if it’s pulling out your hair, won’t it damage the follicles ? Destroy your hair, and making go bald when the hair inevitably drop ? But as you’re considering whether to flee as a matter of precaution, you find that you’re actually unable to move. You look at his eyes… still a deep, deep black hole…

You are now trapped.

Concentrated, Rilaj starts, as promised, pulling on your hair. He does it first in the front, and just as he starts pulling, you feel weird… as if he is pulling on other parts of your body. You look at yourself, and aren’t really able to notice anything that has change… but as he suddenly pulls a second time, you feel a bit weird in your belly.

He pulls once again. You feel… tighter, as if the flab that you had been accumulating over the years was being… pulled back. Another pull. This time, you feel weird in your jaw, a weird sense of tingling all over your face… and on point, you notice that, as he pulls another time, there is no more facial hair. If you could draw your hand to your face, you’re sure you would feel it to be all smooth.

He continues pulling, the pain and the tightness being felt on all parts of your body. You look up at your hair, and notice black strands, reaching far higher than they ever have… and they are stood perfectly. It’s a feeling that you’ve never had, and as he pulls yet another time, tightening your body yet again, you feel kind of… hot ? Like, you’re wearing a haircut quite elaborate, your face is devoid of beard… you feel beautiful, and, dare you think, cute !

He continues pulling out your hair, continuing to tighten everything in your body, as he starts combing your new longer hair. The comb goes higher, and higher, your body feels tighter and tighter, until he goes back to the rest of the hair, revealing a big, tall, but not obnoxious pompadour.

The definition of beauty and hotness.

And as he finishes combing the rest, the barber looks at you, smiling from a well done job, just like you are from a wonderful haircut. You are enamored by the pomp, so much that you fail to realize how big your clothes now are on you. You want to feel it, you want to touch it… but before you can make your hand reach, not even registering how you’re suddenly able to move, Rilaj blocks your arm.

“No, you can’t touch it just yet. It needs to dry up a little bit more before you can, else you will mess everything up.”

Dry ? You do as said, but that use of words does throw you for a loop. And your barber notice, since he then adds a few precisions.

“See, the nuuch’ay is derived from rubber, and we need to let it dry a bit before it can keep its shape. I have variants that dry a lot faster, but for hair, only this one gives out good results.”

Of course ! It’s rubber ! You knew it ! Especially now that you look again at your pitch black and slightly shiny pompadour, the same color as the short guy’s man bun. He goes to fiddle with his tools, putting away the comb, scissors and clippers, and drawing out another bottle full of that black thing… “nootcheye”, was it ? Whatever, that rubber thing he put on your head.

Feeling he was finishing up, you feel like it’s appropriate for you to stand back up… but just when you are in a vertical position, you feel something dropping. You look below, your pants and your underwear are on the ground, your shirt being the only thing still hanging on, although it is by now only hovering around your body.

You cry in shock, drawing the attention of the barber, who smiles, almost mocking you – though you don’t feel anything truly mean about it.

“Oops ! I guess I didn’t consider that law from that one smart French guy – what was his name… Lavoisier ? yeah, Lavoisier’s law of conservation of matter.” He half-mocks, sticking out his tongue.

You glare at him, growing angry.

“Okay, okay, don’t need to be this upset ! I was going to explain how the nuuch’ay works before you left anyway !” He throws his hands up in surrender. “Basically, it’s just stretching your body so that the hair is higher, so it had to take mass from somewhere else – that somewhere being your fat, mostly. « The nuuch’ay is currently keeping your body stretched, meaning that you will stay like that for quite a while. However, once it completely dries up, it will crack and then your body will go back to normal, whence why I couldn’t use the instantly drying up nuuch’ay.”

He starts helping you out of your shirt, revealing a lithe body, one that you hadn’t seen since early puberty. Although you can see muscles, they lack any definition, and are only revealed by the low amount of body fat you now have. By all definitions, you can now call yourself a definite twink. No matter how much of one you already were, by now there is no mistake, with how hairless and skinny you are.

“It should last about a month or two, I didn’t check when I made this bottle, but if you want to end it early, you have to warm your hair up with, for example, a perming machine.” He continues to explain, as he starts uncapping his other bottle of ‘nootcheye’. “But until then, your hair will stay exactly like this, no matter how much you squeeze it, wash it, or mess it up !”

As if to prove his point, he squeezes down your pompadour, and as he removes his hand it bounces back into place, as if nothing had happened. Bewildered, you let your hand reach your hair, messing it up in more and more extreme ways, but like rubber, it always gets back to its place. It just feels… surreal.

“By the way, we don’t have any spare clothes for you – all the spare are made for bigger people – so I will use this bottle to create clothes. Don’t worry, I have great taste.”

He pours the bottle of nuuch’ay he had in his hands, and it spreads over all your body, from your neck down to your feet, creating a big, black, shiny jumpsuit. But as it settles, red accents and multiple crevasses appear, until it has formed into a kind of black leathery tunic, one that you would more readily see in fetish publications than in the street.

But you love it.

And under the smile of Rilaj Mam who artfully wanders out of the field of view, you take a photo to commemorate that new hairstyle, that new shiny black pompadour.

But before you go out of the barbershop, after having collected your bag and your unfortunately big clothes, Rilaj stops you.

“Sorry to bother you, but could you grant me a favor ?” He draws out a short red cigarette. “I found that thing when I went to Tokyo a few weeks ago, and I think your uncle might be interested in it.”

You look at him shocked when he suddenly mentions your uncle – especially knowing the unfortunate fate he suffered.

“Now, don’t make this face. I knew who you were ever since I saw your name booking this haircut, that’s the reason I chose to cut your hair. That guy at the welcome desk can attest that I’m very selective with my clients.” You hear a frustrated ‘yes’ from far away. “But if you have any questions, ask them to him, I won’t say anything he doesn’t want me to. After all, he is the only one who has the right to answer them...”

Hearing his tone, it feels as if he wanted you to ask questions to your uncle… Does he feel smart for trying to so blatantly manipulate you ? Or does he realize that you can’t ask questions to your uncle and expect a coherent answer anymore ?

“And, seriously, don’t use that cigarette. You saw how potent the nuuch’ay is, and this is more insidious. On that, send my regards to your uncle. Xtiqaatz’at chik na qii’.”

Without waiting for you to react, he leaves out the door, leaving more questions than answers.

[soobnny]

classmate au | nishimura riki

❝ did you guys see that? i was the one who taught her how to do that!❞

heeseung | jay | jake | sunghoon | sunoo | jungwon | NI-KI

nishimura riki….

the absolute menace that this boy is

The Class Clown

being seatmates with him is probably the worst decision you have ever made

not bc of him and his jokes !!!!!

no he’s very funny actually

he makes you laugh all the time

he just ALWAYS whispers the wrong answer to you during oral recitation

and you ALWAYS fall for it

“what is the second stage of cell division?”

“meiosis,” he’d whisper so confidently

“m…meiosis?” you ask more to him bc u know he’s wrong but the teacher hears you anyway 😭😭😭

he is just SOOOOO !!!! unbearable

also btw he calls u by ur last name

the type to be close friends with all the teachers

he’d just casually reply to them in class (ofc in a respectful enough manner)

always makes the class laugh

he’s always doing some shit honestly like just don’t try to understand him atp

he likes to switch with the person seated behind you sometimes so he can sit beside a close friend but ALSO so he can play with your hair

ni-ki will just do ANYTHING .. put your hair in poor braids, put it in a ponytail ltrly anything

he has started his own hair salon behind you

tells you not to fix your hair for the rest of the day

so yes you end up sporting his poorly styled ponytail where some strands are sticking out

also the type to draw on your arm

in the case that he doesn’t switch with the person behind you, he’ll just start drawing on your arm

ANYTHING absolutely anything

hearts … maybe even a dick im sorry he is a Man and he will start giggling to himself when he draws it on your forearm

tbh u just let him do it

it’s bc he looks so cute … like he’s so focused on your arm while you’re focused on your teacher

during those class seminars, he is STILL seated next to you

but you guys don’t listen to the speaker most of the time

he’ll have the 8ball app loaded on his phone and you guys will just silently play billiards on his phone

changes ur contact name to “sucks at 8ball”

when it’s his turn to make a move, you try and pay attention to the speaker

but then he nudges your arm to signal that it’s your turn and he hands you his phone so you can make a move

BTW idk how to explain this but the seats r like those in the movie theaters

imagine …. your arms on the same arm rest … side by side …. touching

he is actually so slick with it

unlike jake, you’ll often find him at the volleyball court instead of the basketball court

you enjoy sitting at the sides too

ur friends like playing so sometimes they’d play against riki or on the same team as him and you’d just watch as u wait for ur sibling to get u from school

or until you can commute back home with your friends

sometimes you’d join too

BUT only after telling them you’re bad at the sport over and over and over again and them telling you it’s ok over and over and over again too

you finally join in and play volleyball with them with the reassurance that they’re just playing for fun !!!!!!

honestly it’s so much fun but Menace Riki loves to target the ball in ur direction

(it’s so you can play too since most of the time … the ball doesn’t go in ur direction so ure just awkwardly standing in ur position 🧍‍♀️)

the next day, this mf drags u out of class HIMSELF to the direction of the volleyball court and teaches you how to set

“okay, hands above ur forehead, okay? 😒” and u’re just trying to take his directions

he’d be soooooo annoying when you set a ball properly for the first time too

would ltrly turn to everyone in the court with his loud mouth and start praising you

“hey, did you guys see that?? i taught her how to do that !!! i’m her mentor”

ofc it becomes something about Him instead but it’s just cuz he can’t risk everyone knowing about his big fat crush on you

(sucks to be him bc everyone already knows like … have you seen the way he looks at you?)

he’s secretly so proud and plays volleyball with you to the side instead of playing an actual match

it’s to help you improve

bc he’s your self-proclaimed mentor 🥹

and when his friends drag him to play, he’ll insist you play too on the same team as him

you know how like .. one touch .. two touch .. volleyball is until three right?

ni-ki loves to set the ball or toss it to you so you can actually play too

your hype boy 😍😍😍😍

another funny story with this boy was when you and your friend were on your way to go home

and it started raining

ni-ki’s bff and ur bff r dating ok !!!

so naturally, his best friend leaves his side to shade his gf (ur bff) with an umbrella

now u’re left behind with riki

u do NOT expect him to grab his umbrella, open it up, and tell you to start walking with u

shields you so now you’re following behind ur dating bffs

honestly it’s actually kind of a cute memory

sharing an umbrella .. so romantic 🥰

ofc ur friends tease u !!! those who witnessed it happen and when u and ur friend r safely sheltered from the rain,, riki’s bff starts pushing him and teasing him for finally making a move

the direction ni-ki needs to go to isn’t even where he had walked u to but he still did it so you wouldn’t get sick

ANYWAYS he’s the teasing to get ur attention when he has a crush type so

good luck

expect him to always be up in your business and calling your name out

just embarrassing you in all possible ways

ALL GOOD INTENTIONS i swear

he’s just bad at expressing his feelings

u guys r just an old married couple bickering in class sometimes

your classmates start making bets on when you two will finally start dating

when he finally asks you out, his cocky teasing behavior is just thrown out the window

he stutters and scratches the back of his head and looks anywhere but to you

indirectly asks you out

“wanna eat um street foods after class?”

“who’s coming with,” you’d ask

“JUST ME… just me. just us…”

ltrly something as simple as that has him blushing all over 😭

he has no problem embarrassing u and drawing dicks on ur arms and calling ur name in the hallway and throwing an arm around ur shoulder

but the moment he asks u to eat out with him ?? even just for street food ?? bye he’s so shy and nervous

it’s SOOOO unlike him

“oh, sure!”

his eyes would light up please stop

then his cocky behavior would come back a little .. just enough to be tsundere as he is

“okay… don’t think i wanna hangout with you alone or anything. it’s just a treat for properly setting last time we played vb”

likeeee no one believes you ni-ki

the last time u played vb was like two weeks ago so why r u suddenly treating NOW

it’s actually so cute when u start dating

he has such a Soft Spot for u

LOVES annoying u but is secretly so doting like please

i hate happy couples !!!!!!!!!

i hope u guys r HAPPY <3

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[mikeylo]

A Reason to Stay, Bound to You

Length: 13.2K+words

Genre: Fluff, Sullyoon x M!Manager (age gap, let just say appropriate range), in-depth detail of an idol manager work, 2nd POV style.

Summary: You Y/N being Nmixx manager got into feeling complication with Sullyoon, one of the Nmixx's members (Same goes for Sullyoon with her manager). Multiple instances happened between them in which only strengthen their bond deeper than a mere staff or worker. A controversies strike the group costing your job as their manager. Will their feelings stay intact?

Disclaimer:

First time posting a story on here or ever, English is my second language, technically it is third but the second one in terms of which came first.

Props to my friends for beta read my fic to lessen the mistake in there.

Credit to her for giving the fic such a lovely name. It's so good it freaking make sense

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Nmixx manager is a diligent worker, always provide what Nmixx needs. That is you, Y/N we are talking about. All Nmixx known for extrovert aura, but Sullyoon is otherwise, well she did have to blend in with the energy of her group in which she already gotten used to it by now, but her old self still lingers around. With all due respect, other girl is easier to interact with, but Sullyoon is a more on the difficult side. You Y/N, their manager also once a shy timid little boy understood her demeanour clearly, it makes her heart flutter you are able understands her without much communication. The moment when two path crosses its way to conjoined, it all started back in the dressing room where the love spark first ignited in midst of a cold season. Being a caring manager you are, you decided to prepare some set of blankets for the girls. So, you entered the room with the folded blanket.

“Anyone needs a blanket” you voice out to the members. The room was hustling with staff going in and out ensuring the showcase smoothly progressing displaying every group distinct music colour, Nmixx the group you are taking care of was not an exception. You hope for the best award every given to them

“Aniyo (no)” member replied in unison except the one at the far back of the room, Sullyoon. At the corner of your eye, you saw Sullyoon turning around with puppy eyes and slightly protruding her lips looking for you. She assumed you will head out again since the member doesn't need the heated blankets, so she was a little bit let down as she was kind of cold by this frigid atmosphere. “Here you go” astoundment was shown in her eyes staring in appreciation towards you. You didn’t notice her heartful stare as you carry on facing the crowd in the room. “You girls need anything else?”

“You need anything?” Your remarks broke her out of her trance. She shakes her head a bit, eyes fluttering waking up her sense back, “No….… opp- manager-nim” she softly spoke. Red hue on her cheeks can be seen but you sensed it as a fleeting thought because you got a lot to take care of, part-time, siblings college fees and any other breadwinner was tasked for.

“Manager Oppaaa, get me pumpkin spice Americano juseyo and…...” in baby voice, Haewon make a call from the other side of the room. Being their manager for almost two years, you are still amazed by how explosive their energy is, the iconic trio, Kyujin Jiwoo Haewon are unstoppable force, adding Lily and Bae is just a cherry on top.

“Make it three oppa” Kyujin interrupts Haewon while holding her left hands up with the number three. You can sense Haewon glaring her eyes out at Kyujin as you take note of the order on your phone. The so-called twin maknae, Kyujin and Jiwoo always teaming up on their unnie. They even sit next to each other in the room.

You inquire their usual order from the rest of the girls, Lily and Bae. You tilt your head a bit since Sullyoon decline her daily caffeine order. You found it weird especially today with her, as if she's not being her usual self. You clearly notice all the member comfortably call you “Oppa or Manager oppa” beside Sullyoon. Well, it's a given as you regularly call her by her stage name. When you were first introduced to the members, they present themself by their stage name which is their real name but only until later you found out Yoona is her real name. By now it's a habit calling Sullyoon her stage name and looks like it doesn't bother her at all. Little did you know, she does get bother by it, seeing you calling every member by their real name make her heart feel unease.

“The order will be here, see you guys in a bit, got some errands to do, ask manager unnie if you guys need anything, FIGHTING!” with fist clench showing unwavering support to them.

Being the head manager usually handling company, production team and event organizer applications for the group, making sure they are up to date. Most of the time you get it done quickly a week before. Having no pending task, in the meantime you watch the members do their idol work from behind the scenes, assisting manager unnie taking care of the girl’s wellbeing 24/7.

Afternoon and evening schedule are filled with photo shoot, interviews and live broadcast on a music shows. Since it takes place at the Seoul broadcasting station, ending a few schedules at the station with an interview with the media outlet at the front entrance with fans cheering in the background.

Unfortunately, your stomach has been feeling uneasy for the past couple of hours as there's some technical issue earlier at Magazine shooting session making the intended schedule falling behind. You are tapping your feet away waiting behind rows of camera witnessing the girls do their interviews, finishing two to three interviewer question, bidding goodbyes to the fans and walk off to their van. To add salt to injury, the interview also taking a few minutes more than what has been planned, so you must guide the member quickly. That's what your hope for, but fate got better plans for you.

As you lead the group and assist the van’s door. The rest of the girls went on the van, but you saw the back of the Bae’s head covering the incident you never expected to happen. A commotion happens to Sullyoon with a media reporter. The reporter looks like on the last thread of his job and would do anything to keep it, even if he must break the standard moral of conduct. The media reporter was crossing the belt barrier holding onto Sullyoon wrist and bombarded her with questions.

“Mr……please…. stop it” She murmured out her discomfort and wince a bit of pain due to the tight hold. To not cause further the havoc. She grabs her left fist with her right hand to make an attempt to flee the situation. Bae hesitantly come closer to Sullyoon trying to snatch her away from the man. “Mr..…we got other schedule to attend… maybe on the next fan meeting” a chance was taken by Bae but doesn't budge the man’s hold on Sullyoon’s wrist.

“You guys are the reason Jini was kicked out of the group, she never left voluntarily!” The reporter shouted attracting more witnesses to the scene. The girls were startled by the thunderous claim by the man. Jinni issue was settled years ago, even Jinni herself say it herself.

You watched as everyone attention was pointed to them, this matter will only worsen as time goes on, you take big step towards them. Yanking the reporter’s hand off Sullyoon. It takes every ounce of your energy to not put a dent on the reporter’s face. With a lot going in your head from delayed schedule, controversial claim to the sight of frightened Sullyoon really boils your anger.

“Kindly put your hands off the idol Mr, they have fixed schedule needed to follow.” You spoke with teeth clench while trying your best to carve a smile on your face, some even may see your veins pulsing on your temple.

“Yahhh, hands off you basta-” The man was ready to throw hands but reconsider his choice after seeing you seething with anger through a fake smile as it wasn't worth to have broken nose and jaw over his job. He broke off your hold and flee the area. You didn't notice your grip earlier left him to massage his wrist.

“Are you guys, okay?” You gently hold on both of their shoulder checking for any injuries. You quickly ushered them to get into their van. After closing the door, you jog your way to the driver seat and drove off.

--------------------------------------

From time to time, you glance at the rear-view mirror to check on the girls, especially Sullyoon. Being assaulted must be putting a lot of weight on her mental health. You cursed yourself for not doing your job properly, probably you should have stayed close when guiding them, or maybe you should have been more attentive about the group schedule last week, then this wouldn't had happened. Today’s occurrence overwhelmed your mind to the brim.

“Oppa, we have arrived” Haewon tapped your shoulder from the backseat. Haewon’s call break you out of your trance. You look over your shoulder and multiple sets of eyes are directed to you. The corner of your eyes detecting your surroundings, makes you realise that you have driven them to their next schedule location instinctively. They have a schedule at Ajou University for rehearsal for upcoming University Festival consert and you brought them here with your mind going autopilot mode. “Your sick piece of shi-” once again you mouth curse word to your carelessness of not being conscious throughout the drive, it could have led to nightmarish accident. “You guys go ahead; I will catch up” signaling them with the back of your hand to go ahead. They all went out leaving you alone in the van. It was one hell of a week you think to yourself. Taking side quest while having a job to take care others was not the most ideal life choice, but the extra cash was needed.

Being a people pleaser really has took a toll on you, having most trusted friends swindle your money with debt still calling your name like student loan, monthly bills. And on top that regular hospital fees for your ailing little sister, Jiu. You wouldn’t want to complain about family burden but it’s still your responsibility. Well, you always hoped being that very unlucky main character to suddenly be granted with the most beautiful reward like those slices of life comic you used to read. You chuckle at your own ridiculousness.

With you having a laugh at your life stories. Sullyoon look back at the van before entering the tent area for the rehearsal. She can't really see you through the window as it was black tinted. But deep within her heart, she hoped that everything would go your way.

For the past years working together, she somewhat able to relates herself with you as both of you are very good at hiding your pain. Back when you have a fever, you pretended to drink an energy drink, but it was actually coughing syrup. You left her flabbergasted taking the sight of others believing your act.

On the side note, it leaves her a hint of excitement and connection knowing both of you have something in common, but it does not last long as hiding one’s pain also hurts her. Like the intense bruise on her wrist after the incident with the reporter that you missed.

“Yoona-yah, hurry up! We have to go” Jiwoo brings back Sullyoon back to earth seeing her standing far from the pack. “Wait up, I’m coming” Sullyoon take one last glance towards the van but this time from afar both of your gazes met as you step out of the van. Both of you stares into one another. Even though her sensory experience is being occupied by the intense swelling of her bruise, Sullyoon still able to shows you her toothy smile and crescent shape eye. Her smile really captivates you that you almost didn’t notice she’s waving at you lightly with her right hand. You sheepishly wave back with an equal smile but grasp something is off with her overall condition.

A sigh of relief as you see her back to her usually demeanour as that what you assumed, she’s a strong girl given a heavy responsibility to hold such beauty in this thorny world. As she turns back to catch up to her member, you furrowed your brows in confusion catching her conspicuously awkward movement. Seeing her stop mid-way to check on something. Witnessing her grasping onto her left wrist with her other hand before disappearing into the cluster of tents. You may haven’t had a meal for today, but your gut’s instinct was stronger than usual after what you had just witnessed.

You grab available med kit and rush to their tent. Despite not being fond of your overthinking traits, but it mads you think she’s been affected by the earlier incident in some way. You ran through manifold rows of tent from various group and almost missing their designated tent. Once you parted the curtain, at your dismay the members weren’t there. Checking the sign pasted outside maybe you could've gone to the wrong tent. “They already went on stage” You heard a voice beside you, seeing Manager Unnie sitting on a plastic, focused on her phone,

Without much thought, you make a beeline straight to the main stage while slither your way avoiding bystander staff. Then you found yourself by the foot of the stair leading up to the stage, since it was an outdoor concert so there are a lot of deployable stage light rigged on some beam and trusses. From there you saw the members getting ready for rehearsal, doing some stretching and vocal warm-up. Adding humorous element to the scene, Haewon poking Lily by the waist while she trying to do vocal warm-ups.

You scanned through the set while walking up the stage’s side stair and your eyes land on the person you're looking for, Sullyoon. She's doing her stretches while she's entering her pensive mode staring into the horizon. One of her few habits you happen to see quite often throughout the years, she always shies her face away when you caught her pondering her mind for too long. But for today, I don’t think it’s the case.

Since she stands close to the steps, the clanking sound of metal stairs from your footing makes her turn her head around and stumble upon seeing you with a med kit by your side. She was a bit startled by your unexpected presence and the sight of the med kit only making her anxious about what's going to happen next. From your perspective, her demeanour changes from her usual ethereal looking beauty to a timid little girl after she’s been caught red handed.

You motion her to come here before you are rummaging through the med kit searching for an ointment and a bandage and she hesitantly obliged. As she stands in front of you fidgetingly, you signal her to give her left hand. She hesitantly places her hand on top of your right palm. As you gently twist her wrist to see the damage, horror came down to you as the bruise patch was quite sizeable with deep colour. Being a manager, acquiring basic dermatology is essential, your concerned only tripled knowing it’s not what you consider a normal bruise but a severe one. After having a knowledge of her injury, you ruffle your hair in frustration, now you wished you had let your intrusive thought of busted the reporter’s nose to extinguish your wrath.

With wide eye you look up from the bruise to her eyes to make eye contact. As if telling her telepathically how serious the injury is, and she is hiding it, but she avoids the mutual glance and averted her eyesight to the ground waiting anxiously for scolding from you. But you are more obliged to attend her injury as it’s a serious one.

“ Does it hurt?” you whisper softly while maintaining your gaze on her. With both of your hand on her left wrist, positioned both thumbs on the bruise mark, just a mere graze of your thumb on her skin causing her to wince in pain. You felt sympathy for her. It really reminds you when you had to endure endless throbbing sensation for weeks on your right thigh from slipping down small steps and not having a luxury of proper treatment. Since she's under meticulous care of their manager, she doesn't need to experience it.

“This is a lot more serious than I thought, you should head back to the tent for now” you comment while spreading some bruise-healing cream on her injury. Since haven't got any cold agent around, you opt to go for immediate treatment for her and wrapping bandage loosely around her wrist.

“Bae-yahh! Come here” you called Bae to come over and continued to inform that she will accompany her back to tent. Subsequently, the rest of the member also joined in as they heard you called Bae. As expected, everyone went bonkers upon hearing the news about Sullyoon getting hurt by the incident, Jiwoo being the sensitive one might make one confuse who’s the victim as she’s about to shed some tears. Lily on the other hand being the sweetest she is, giving Sullyoon a patting at the back and lean her head onto Lily’s shoulder. Upon seeing the eldest giving affection towards to younger one, the rest of the member also joined the love surrounding Sullyoon, in contrast to you awkwardly trying to hold onto Sullyoon’s wrist as you fully aware of how excruciating having a bruise and severe one at that.

Being an Idol in a country that's known for it makes up the competitive nature so any schedule must move on. Meanwhile, you asked Bae escort Sullyoon back to their tent carefully. You advised Bae to hold Sullyoon arm closely leveled to heart level to scale down swelling rate. Conversely, you picked up their pre-ordered meals for tonight from a nearby diner run by a lovely ahjumma (Aunty). Unintentionally, it was the restaurant you used to visit frequently when around the area. And you remind yourself to also buy Sullyoon a sling and a cooling agent pack.

“That's quite a big order you got there, what's the occasion?” You were a bit jolted overhearing a voice close to you as you were patting your attire for your wallet at the counter to pay. You saw a familiar figure with some partially white hair with back slightly hunch due to old age, the restaurant owner. “It's for my sisters” you sheepishly smile back at her, I guess you could consider the members as your little sister knowing how close you guys’ bond together. You are dumbfounded knowing your mind can clearly vision where exactly you left your wallet but to only forget you left it back at the tent.

“Don't worry, the meals are on the house” the old women uttered makes you feel guilty, exchanging your forgetfulness for a free meal, such an unfair trade. “You boys must work relentlessly these days, let me tell you…. don’t overdo it like my deceased son” those final three words meant a thousand sweat and tears both from the son and his mother. You grow up without much preference of your parents other than countless cut and bruises as a remembrance of them and final memory of news about their car accident.

The only driving force that’s keeping you moving is those who are under your care. Sometimes you can be selfless to keep other in check and not worry about yourself but hearing Ahjumma’s words make you rethink on how you would approach the future. You really should take care of yourself better, ending your life accidentally by your own hands is not something you want to imagine of your loved one crying over your passing.

Your heart ached just from picturing them tears up. Your only little sister, your best friends, naughty ahjussi that helps you out of the rut, Nmixx member, Jiwoo, Kyujin, Haewon, Lily, Bae………. Yoona.

*Lub-dub Lub dub, “How does pronouncing a name can make my heart beating so fast?” you voice out internally and you opened your eyes recalling yourself you are still in the restaurant. Both pair of eyes from the cashier and Ahjumma gave you a confused look. To not make your face even redder, you bid them farewell and pick up the meals. As soon as you walked out, you facepalm yourself replaying the moment that’s just happened.

Driving back to Ajou University was never a difficult task but the lingering feeling both coming from the mind and stomach make it so. You chose to think the discomfort coming from your stomach is because of you haven’t had any proper meals aside from snack bar so you felt relief that it doesn’t have anything to do from those earlier thoughts back at the diner. But your minds are playing tricks on you, “Why am I keep thinking of her?” You shake your head every once in a while, but it doesn’t go. It only replaying memories of her but in different scenario. “Manager-nim where is my blanket?”, “Manager-nim, can you help me open this up? “, “Manager Oppa, how does Yoona look?” Haewon asking you about Sullyoon’s dress.

You are about to go crazy with this ridiculous thought repeating every instance of her with you. Fortunately, your mind has more tricks up its sleeves. Constructing a scene beyond your experience. The mind started its magic, and you can see Sullyoon is skip walking towards you with both her hands placed behind her. You think of moving out of the way, but you feel your body is stuck in place. Neither your legs nor your hands can be move. As she about to close the distance, you closed your eyes preparing for a head on collision. But then, you felt both of your hands were held by a set of soft and delicate finger. You opened your eyes to assess the situation and you were displayed by the closeness of her profile. You were charmed instantly, never ever have you gotten this up-close inspecting her allurement. You were aware of her beauty, but this only makes you to not avert your eyes away from her. As you had fully submit to your mind’s desire thinking this is the climax, but your mind knows what you truly wished for. Sullyoon tenderly squeezed your hands and say your utmost desire “Call me Yoona…………. Y/N Oppa”.

You screamed at the top of your lungs not as a figure of speech but literally, so loud that pedestrians walking by look at your van. Thankfully, with black tinted window and you stopped at the traffic light unconsciously, you once again saved face from embarrassment. To make it worst, your throat went sore and dry, it really starting to sting when you try to make a sound. You stopped by a convenience store to buy some cold packs and a sling as you nearly forgetting the most important matter.

Only couple of turns left, you arrived again at the parking lot of Ajou outdoor theatre. Not forgetting their meals in hand and post purchase item. A huff of exhaustion escapes you as you walked down the familiar path toward Nmixx’s tent. With your mind more focused than before to end the day on a good note, you settled on the improvised schedule in your head as they will have dinner here and end the day off with a radio show.

As you parted the tent’s fabric to enter, you saw the girls already finished their rehearsal and waited. “Meals are here” as you placed it down on the nearby table. “What's it, oppa?” Kyujin being the first scavenging through the plastic.

“It's Bibimbap (White rice topped with diverse toppings)” you answered while looking around where did you place your wallet. You swear you put it on top of the table. Searching around the tent, ducking under the seat, maybe it slips out of the tent, just a mere thought filled your mind with dread. With the enjoyment atmosphere from the members ensued in the background over a homemade meal, you noticed two members were absence. You reckon they went to the washroom.

You headed outside to check if your instinct were true. You spotted Bae and Sullyoon headed your way from a potentially washroom. Bae was holding onto something while leisurely maintaining Sullyoon’s wrist at heart level but what's intrigued you was both were looking at it so intently like solving a puzzle. “Where did you guys go?” You questioned them insensitively with arm crossed and raised eyebrow as you eyed the very familiar item in their hands.

“Oh, Oppa is here” Bae was the first to notice your presence and followed by Sullyoon with a slight stun perceiving your existence. Bae are oblivious on how searing Sullyoon’s wound is while holding onto your lost wallet, you can only let out unenthused snicker. “Oppa, who’s this?” Bae extended her arm out showing the inside of your wallet while being clueless of her intrusion of privacy, casually asking you who is the younger girl in the picture. “Little sister” responding with smirk, your peripherical vision detect a drastic change of Sullyoon expression from a stern look to a beaming smile. Unbeknownst to you, in the depths of her heart was a hopeless and resentful devotion upon seeing the picture in your wallet illustrating a girl figure where you wrapped your arms around her shoulder. Never once in her life being this thrilled upon hearing some news, like Christmas comes early, there’s still possibility of her uttermost wish to be granted.

“Foods is here too” Bae lightly throws the wallet up in the air leaving Sullyoon catching and grasping onto the contraband. Bae’s action spooked you a bit, it was not about seizing the wallet but the moment she lets go of her hold onto Sullyoon’s wrist got your instinct kicked in quickly holding on to her wrist. You stared menacingly in the direction of where Bae’s headed. Observing Sullyoon getting left out by Bae only adding more evident to her selfless personality. You bet Sullyoon tell Bae off to not worry about her to much as you just ordered Bae to keep watched on Sullyoon.

“Manager-nim……. your hand” Sullyoon shyly tug your sleeve to regain your attention, as you regain focused, oblivious that you unintentionally holding her hand after you noticed her response. You swiftly retrieved your wallet from her hand as you commanded her to hold her wrist with her other hand to lessen her injury. Although, this is not the first time she held your hand, it always sends butterfly in her guts. The major size difference between hers and yours coloured her cheeks red acknowledging that fact that it could easily wrap your hands arounds hers easily. The rough and sturdy exterior of your hand cradling her tender and delicate palm only contributed to her sensory overload.

With the minor mishap out of the way, you swung your sling bag around to the front to search for the sling you just bought earlier. “Here, put this on” you hand her the sling, and she hesitates, unsure about wearing it. “Manager-nim……. I don’t think I need this, it’s only a bruise” she mildly protests, unable to keep eye contact with you. You take the sling off her palm and do it your own way. You politely request her to lift her left arm to put the sling on, it was done in an instant. But the one on the receiving end was flushed to oblivion, having your arm nearly wrapping her around, your warm breath tingling her ear as you try to connect the slings end. Your hand slightly brushes her hair sending shiver down her spine. A hint of your perfume mixed with your natural scent initiate a malware in her mind.

You take a step back, appreciating your work. “Look, doesn’t take long at all to wear” feeling a bit proud of yourself, not aware what kind of blushing mess you made Sullyoon as she stared down to the ground hiding her face with her hair flow with the gravity. Worried slowly overcomes you upon seeing her current form, is she, sick? Does she really do not want to wear the sling? You leaned in to properly judge the situation. “Are you sick? your face redder than usually” you mutter to yourself, but you are not the only who heard it considering both of your face are inches away. Like any typical method to determine whether one has a fever, using the back of your hand will do the trick. You gently sweep her fringe aside and place the back of your hand against her forehead. A burning sensation started to take its place into your hand.

“Manager-nim stop it!!!!” Sullyoon let out a shriek of embarrassment with fist clench by her side. You raised your hand in defends from any potential blow. You peek between your fingers taking in a sight of fully flushed Sullyoon with an annoyed expression towards you. “Ehem ahhh G-Go eat up inside, there’s bibimbap ready” you stutter and nod tensely towards the tent inside, avoiding eye contact with her after what just happened. Sullyoon stomped off into the tent leaving you scratching your head in confusion.

Brushing the thought aside, you make your way into the tent. Everyone already munching on their respective bowl of bibimbap. “Oppa, ant chu eaching?” Jiwoo mumbled; her mouth filled with rice. “I will, just have to update the company our current status” you replied to Jiwoo detecting the scene Lily slapping her hand for talking with mouthful out of the corner of your eye as you whipped out your phone. Their sibling dynamic proving they are more than just worker but more like a family. You typed away on your phone all the details to inform about Sullyoon’s injury. “Sullyoon-ah, I need to take picture of your injury for proof” calling out her name without honorific giving her goosebumps essentially pronouncing her full name, Seol Yoona. Luckily, you proceed getting the proof without causing another scene.

“How long does she have to wear it?” Haewon posed a question piqued everyone attention. As soon you submit the report, you turned and faced Haewon before answering. “At most 3 weeks if you casually only applying balm on it, but at short as 1 week if it’s under attentive care like wearing a sling, healthy diet, gentle exercise and avoid re-injury will suffice. “It’s going to be a hassle wearing that around, how the media will react if she wears that in public?” everyone focuses on the one commenting, Manager unnie. Hands on your chin, you reflect on your assistant point of view. “Hmmmmmm” you hummed in contemplation as you walk around the space with everyone anticipating your answers.

 You stopped your track standing in front of Sullyoon. “Sullyoon-shi, does your hand feel pain when you move your arms around” almost in interrogating tone you question her. “A bit but I feel it is more convenience to- Ahhhhh” sharp pain shot through her joint as Kyujin were sitting beside her raising her knee to scratch her ankles inadvertently hitting Sullyoon’s arm. “Oh My God Sullyoon! Unnie, Are you okay! I’m Sorry!” she freaks out getting everyone on their feet. Promptly grabbing the cold pack, you went and place it onto her affected area and proceed to check-up on her. Your observation conclude that her breathing gets heavier, seeming that her body is trying to cope the sudden twist on her swollen wrist. Beads of sweat started forming on her face

Upon seeing Sullyoon condition worsened, you instantly act voicing out your game plan. “I will drop you guys off at the radio station then I will take Sullyoon to the nearby clinic” everyone nods in agreement. The reason for your urgency was because Seoul traffic gets packed during the dusk hour. By looking at Sullyoon’s current state, it’s only matter of time she will lose consciousness from enduring overbearing pain. “I will get the van closer; you guys steadily assist Sullyoon to the van” you tried to sound as calm as possible despite the critical tension to prevent any mishap occur along the way. You are not in this alone, anyone mistake will hold accountable.

You hasten your movement towards the van and with quick manoeuvre you parked it close enough for them catch up. You grimace at a sight of Sullyoon limping with her arm draping over Bae’s shoulder. With everyone buckled up, you put pedal to the metal heading towards the designated location. “Manager-unnie, can you book a VIP health check-ups at a nearby hospital?” With manager unnie doing her part, conversely you pick up steady pace on the road while not forgetting others safety. Suddenly, the situation in front of you caught your breath viewing a massive traffic jam. “Will we make it in time Oppa?” you imagine Haewon sticking her head out behind the sits. You looked closely through the rear mirror, a sigh of relief upon seeing Sullyoon’s breathing pattern has steadied. You saw a glimpse of her eyes slightly opened and nods in assurance at you that she’s doing okay.

“Everything will be under control, believe me” comforting those under you in critical moment what makes you stand out from others. Ironically, you may construct deep attachment easily with this attribute, but you will have a hard time to let go of that person. Going back to the matter at hand, you reroute your path finding alternative for better chance of arriving early as progressing slowly is better than stuck in a never-ending traffic.  Even with the situation toned down, you are still concerned about Sullyoon’s wellbeing and it’s your top priority for now.

Fortunately, with 15 minutes to spare. Everyone disembarks from the van leaving Sullyoon in your custody and splitting our respective path. “See you guys in a bit after I check-up on Sullyoon at the hospital” you bid them farewell through the window and off you went. You take a glance at the rear mirror, you saw Sullyoon soundly asleep like a baby koala latching onto its mother. Seeing her in slumber state only shows how straining the pain is putting onto her mentally and physically.

Upon arriving at Seoul National University Hospital parking space, you looked around you to determine how crowded it is. It’s a given as it’s on national level public service. It wouldn’t be pleasant walking around with an idol by your side. You looked behind your seat, Sullyoon is still sleeping. You felt guilty to wake her up, but you must for the sake of her health. You jumped out from the driver’s seat and slide the door open. The heavy sound of the sliding door woke her up randomly, she looks over her shoulder scratching her eyes.

You proceed to put her cap and mask on to prepare for check-up. You wear your sneaky outfit with a mask and the same black cap on, even though you are only a mere manager, you don’t want to risk of being caught. There’s been multiple occasions of you accidentally inside of Nmixx photos taken by fan, it wouldn’t be surprising if anyone recognize you. The walk to the receptionist was a bit of a hassle as Sullyoon still half-awake from her nap while clutching onto your arm. The reservation registration was done quick with only needing to post your assistant name and trudge to meet up with private medical officer in a consultation room. “Manager-nim, I want to take a nap” you didn’t complain much despite you basically support half of her weight as she essentially leaning onto you with her head rest on your shoulder.

Slowly but surely, you make your way crossing the doorway. “Reservation under Mrs Kim” you state your assistant’s name to the doctor inside for customer identification. You explain her condition to the doctor while she’s still drowsy with her head lean on your shoulder. The doctor instructs you to seat Sullyoon upright in the designated chair. The doctor begins doing his job and start removing Sullyoon’s sling. You were occasionally answering questions thrown out by the doctor as he keeps on his progress. How does she get the bruise? What are the first air treatment that you give her? Did you apply ice pack on it? And you also add that her bruise might be getting worse as there was a small mishap of twisting the joint.

The doctor clarifies more about her bruise severity. The more you understand her condition, the more you treat her with empathy. He highlights the extreme discomfort from the swollen bruise can put heavy stress on the patient’s mind. This justify the reason Sullyoon is drowsy because she’s exhausted put up with the pain. “Manager-nim….”she looks up at you, her lips slightly protruding and her sleepy eyes pleading, as she leans her head against your torso.

“Who is she to you? Your girlfriend?” the doctor asks but shrugged it off. The doctor interrogates you in the meantime he’s spreading arnica gel onto her bruise. You go for simple answer “Idol and manager” as his question got you acting on high alert. You heard light chuckle from the doctor “Don’t worry sir, our customer’s privacy is our priority” as he just finished wrapping up Sullyoon’s arm. You are amused by the doctor sense of humour and were reminded to take medication at the reception.

Luck was in your favoured, you felt grateful things went smoothly as you step into you van with Sullyoon taking the passenger seat beside you. A quick glance at your wristwatch telling you got ample time to even send Sullyoon back dorm before getting the other members back at the radio station. Without wasting a single second, you head straight to their dorm.

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There’s nothing more enjoyable than driving on a road in which the traffic has thinned out. Saving you more time to grab a bite as you are starting to feel the spike poking your abdomen. As you put the van to a halt in front of Nmixx dormitory, you hear Sullyoon’s yawn and stretch wide awake. “Good morning” you jokingly said to her. She understood the assignment and greeted you back with a yawn, in which you find it cute because of how down to earth she’s in spite of how ethereal she can be.

“It’s time to go to bed, I will need to get back to fetch the member” you utter with a giggle seeing her abrupt aegyo refusing your idea to go to sleep. She whines with a subtle pout; you are about to go crazy with her unexpected adorableness. But at her core, she feels the most comfortable around you just right after you earnestly taking care of her.

You disregard all her cute attacks and carry on bringing her belongings. You hoped and wished everything unfolded as intended, well it did but not the way you least expected. With her bags in hand and Sullyoon clinging onto your arm looking up to you in admiration, you aren’t complaining but this really shouldn’t be happening as you stand still waiting for the elevator.

“Sullyoona-yah, can you get the keycard” you are not falling for her doe eyes, but at least she follows your order. You started to think is this what you called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)? You don’t remember reading an article stating being clinging was part of the disorder. You take your shoes off, lead the way to their living room. With your eyes squint to resist her charm, you command her prepare for bed and go to sleep but she got better scheme to do. “Manager-nim, want to have ramyeon with me?” she requests cutely.

“Naah, I must go back at get your other members, okay? Plus, I’m not hung-” a growling sound stops disrupt you. Your eyes went wide averting towards your stomach. To make matter worst, you heard a giggle right behind you and you don’t want a whole week having the members replaying the same stories on how loud your stomach growl after being offer have ramyeon. You can’t be too certain Sullyoon be able to keep her mouth shut, she will possess the best sleep of her life reimagine this moment with you.

At last, you stayed for ramyeon with Sullyoon in the living room. “Dig in manager-nim” you side-eyed her as you scanned for potential hidden trick up her sleeve but instead you examined her to be going back to her usual self. Despite her inviting for ramyeon, you did all the cooking right at the coffee table supposedly since she got one hand on hold by a sling. You grab two set of chopstick and bowls, serving her one and one for your hungry belly.

“Jal meokkesseumnida (I will eat well)” both of you said in unison before dig in your respective bowl of ramyeon. You hummed in satisfaction savouring the tasty goodness of ramyeon. It wouldn’t satisfy your hunger fully, but it will enough for now. You both enjoyed your ramyeon in silent, but Sullyoon was the first to break it. “Manager-nim…. why are you always so nice to me?” you are in the middle of your last slurp, but her question made you stop and look at her baffled. You swallowed the last strain of ramyeon and reply to her answer defensively “What do you mean? I treat everyone equally”. Sullyoon elaborate more by adding more details proving her claim. She revealed that her member telling her that they see you treat her a little bit better and to illustrate her points clearer, even she and her other members agree that you can telepathically understand Sullyoon better than anyone else, as if you read her thoroughly. She even lay out scenarios where you read her like a book, the member say that they must tell you exactly what they want then you will bring it to them, Sullyoon on the other hand just by reading her expression and body gesture you as if able to decipher what she needs.

You were left in awestruck by how detailed her accusation is towards you. Your brain couldn’t be able to construct a legitimate excuse to defend yourself as everything that she said was accurate to you. With the amount of evidence essentially exposing you, you might as well be transparent to her and explain your whole side of the stories.

“Look Sullyoon, with all the evidence you lay out to me, you could say I’m biased, I’m not trying to refute that claim because from your guy’s point of view it looks like I’m favouring you”. You accentuate your word carefully as to avoid misunderstanding. You continue your clarification by expressing that Sullyoon looks the most vulnerable out of all the members. You even suggest that she’s unable to open-up to you for the first 3 months of you being their manager. Of course, it would imply that you must somehow adapt to each member on how they supposed to be treated. You realized that you are going off track a little bit too much about defending yourself as you started to see Sullyoon eyes starting to get watery.

Before anything going too out of hand, you grab and grasp her right hand tenderly with both of your hand and reassure her about your stance that she’s not a burden nor a cause of unfair treatment towards her members. “Actually Yoona-yah. Whenever I see you, you remind me of myself back then, shy and timid. You can be hesitant at times, but I know you are doing your best to keep up with the world. I know how exhausting it is to take every burden on your shoulder alone. That’s why I’ll take extra measure to assist you. Don’t compare yourself with other members, you will have your time to shine. Other member like Haewon, I know she will do well on her own in a long run but you, Yoona-yah you just need a little more time and care to build yourself up so you can be on par with others.”

You are in deep stare into her eye’s orb, the tears stream down her cheek almost went unnoticed. You were startle by her sobbing tears that you hand subconsciously wipe her tears with your thumb. “Don’t cry Yoona-yah, Aigoo you are big baby girl aren’t you” you smirk while wiping the remaining tears of comfort.

Cleaning up the dishes as you go, you are flabbergasted that you had to tuck Sullyoon to bed. “Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite” she lightly punches you on the shoulder for treating her like a kid. Well in fact that’s how you view her, a kid who was thrown into society to meet its standard. Well, you once being one of those kids and you don’t want youngsters to suffer the insufferable. Before you turn back, you heard her mutter something. “Do you say something?” you questioned but she only shakes her head. You bid her good night and went straight to the exit.

As the sound of the dorm’s door being locked on the outside, Sullyoon’s heart was racing millions of miles an hour. She whispers to herself something she wished you had heard “Oppa, you paboya (idiot)…………Saranghae (I love you)”.

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You take a deep breath to awaken your senses back. You thought that was a good way to end your day, but you nearly forget about the other members. Your stay with Sullyoon went a bit too late. So, you hoped that you when you arrived at the radio station, they wouldn’t be questioning your delayed arrival. Without wasting any more time, you drive back to the radio station to pick up the girls.

“ Yahhh Oppa, why are you late?” Bae being the first out of the station is asking you sulkily. You pick your own ears to check if it’s still intact due to her loud voice, Bae’s voice being the most obnoxious one neglected the fact that you almost thought she’s the most normal one out of the six member. But you grow to accept her later on. You decided to ignore her completely and open the door for other members as they walk past her.

With everyone on board, you stroll away down under the night sky of Seoul. “Oppa, why did you pick us up so late?” you sigh in defeat as another one asking you the same question, Haewon peaking her head from her seat. But this time, you answer them as it will only make it even more shady if you stayed silent “I had ramyeon before I left Sullyoon before picking you guys up”. Your anxious mind already predicts the subsequent question after you answered, so you gulp your saliva and willingly admit your fate. “Ouh getting TMI (too much information) from oppa, I was expecting you to say the medical check-up was taking too long.” Haewon said, her voice trails with disbelief . Kyujin follow up with an unexpected question  “So you did have ramyeon with Sullyoon?”. The two witty member’s comments had everyone bursting into laughter upon catching you in the act.

Your face went bright red getting fully exposed by the members. You wouldn’t have a calmly ride back to their dorm. You sensed that there’s something going on among the members like a gossip talk among them. You would like to give it more though, but you already fed up with the amount of catastrophe you had to put up today. But your guts unable to detect the fact that there’s a rivalry between who will get your heart, you did not notice Bae being the only one who’s not amused by Kyujin and Haewon act on you as she is saddened by a new revelation about you and Sullyoon.

With everyone going back to their respective resting nest, finally it’s your turn to went back home. Since tomorrow is Nmixx day off, that’s also means your time to compensate lack of sleep on the weekdays. As soon as you step inside your apartment, you waste no time slamming face first into your bed. The bed quickly sucks up your tired body and off to slumber world you go.

The sound of your phone ringing for hours forcing you to wake up. As you squint your eyes to see who’s the caller, it shows on the dialer “Manager-Unnie”. You mutter to yourself “Who the heck would call someone this early”. “Yahhhhh! Y/N -shii, don’t you get my message? Why aren’t you here yet?” and immediately she hungs up the calls. You are puzzled by the unexpected morning scenario, but as soon as you see your phone messenger app was filled with half a thousand unread messages. You are still unaware that one tap of a button to the messenger app would turn your life around completely.

The app was opened, and you still haven’t grasped on what’s going on, you thought maybe just a scammer getting your phone number and spam the heck out of you, you wouldn’t make a deal out of it. You went to Manager-Unnie contact list to check her message. The first message was not a greeting but a news headline link. You starting to feel uncomfortable seeing the link has disturbing wording especially it’s spelling out the group you are taking care of. Adding more horror to you, the picture blurred somewhat showing familiarity about the recent place you have been yesterday.

You tapped on the link, it leads you to Naver News website, as the website starting load its content. Your eyes went wide upon seeing the big red headline saying “NMIXX Male Manager Hurts NMIXX’Fan who’s A Reporter”. Just by reading the main headline, you went to your browser app and see the news feed are filled with your entitled name, “NMIXX Manager” across the screen. You make a call to manager-unnie to analyse the situation. “Palli wah (quick), it would be easier if we discussed this back at the office” She hanged up on you again.

You are frustrated to death waking up into this hell hole, you just want to suffocate yourself with your pillow. Throw you pillow aside, you stared into your ceiling, steadily digesting the uproar you had woken up to. Soon, your breath becoming more stable, and you went to your bathroom to fully wake you up with a splash of cold water shivering your senses to wake. A swig of water cleansing your through, comb your hair to look presentable, donning your jacket and you are ready to face the media allegation.

With van key in hand, you are set to go but you make a quick stop at Ahjussi’s store. “Isn’t today your day off?’ Ahjussi question and pause his daily sweep down the street. “Got an emergency matter to deal with” Ahjussi bid you safe trip before you heading straight to the company.

Cutting to the chase, you are currently running through the company’s corridor making a beeline for the company meeting room. You almost slipped trying to grab a hold of the room door handle. Your stomach immediately sucked in upon everyone arrival making the tension atmosphere tighten. Expressionless and poker face were the only  option for whoever enter this room. All higher up who are under Nmixx management are there too including the members, but you don’t spot Sullyoon anywhere. Maybe she went to the bathroom. You tried to squeeze in to take a seat vacant near the girls and whisper to them about Sullyoon whereabout. “She back at the dorm recovering” manager-unnie respond coldly, not even staring at your way.

You felt like you are missing a memo. Surely, it’s just some misleading article. Just pay the whoever posted the article to take it down, right? Thud! You are jolted by the loud hitting sound at the far side of the room and only having you swallowing your saliva upon acknowledging the presence of the CEO himself. The sound of him flaring his nostrils only making you tremble down to the core and unexpectedly he slides a tablet down the tabletop straight to you. The tablet almost slides off, but you managed to catch it. The CEO recognized how clueless you are upon entering the room, not well informed how serious this issue is.

You tried to be friendly by smiling and nodding at the CEO that you will go ahead look what the tablet screen shows. You saw the familiar headline back at your apartment but as you scrolled more into the article, more dread enveloping your skin. The details of what you missed what got you quivering your legs. You were bewildered by how freaking clever they twist the narrative just from a clip that didn’t do you justice. They only add the part of the clip where grab a hold onto the reporter’s wrist.

That bastard reported makes up stories about how you push the reporter away a bit too harsh. He has the audacity to post his injury on the internet to make him the victim. The video cut making a villain impression of you portraying as a villain, saying unnecessary usage of hard force to push away fans and reporter, even there is a picture of you last night with Sullyoon getting medical check-up and adding description that you hurt the idol and make it seem like you try to silent the idol from voicing out their assault by giving them a treatment. They were never assaulted in the first place, now they put their attack and pinpoint it to you.

You voice out your opinion about this absurdity of the situation it is “Sajang-nim (CEO) this is all just altered stories making me look bad, I have never raised my hand on Nmixx member ever, and I- “. You were cut short as you the CEO interrupts you with a question “How did Sullyoon get hurt initially?” his clasped hand covering his face partially investigating you. You carry on explicate what happened beginning with everything going according to the schedule up until the period where it all happened, after the interview. You said Sullyoon was heading towards the van, but a random reporter grabs her wrist cruelly, so you had to interfere as you saw her getting hurt by the reporter.

You were sceptical, you thought you did great explain yourself to them, but you hear everyone in the room murmuring with each other. “Is that all?” question proposed by the CEO got you feeling agonizing, as he stands up from his seat and make his way to you, you tried to look as confident as possible not being hitched by his demeanour. “I’m opened for any possibility, even I would believe there’s an alien attending the interview yesterday. But…….” The CEO gave his insight on this matter, accumulating to your distress there’s a brief interval before he finished his sentence. “If there’s no evidence, there’s no persuasion” The CEO utter his last word.

You were taken aback by the unexpected turn of event. “Ouh Come on Sajang-nim, you guys just going to believe that bullshit of an article” you sound with clear hearing of everyone in the room. You turn to the members “You girls know me, right? We have been together ever since”, you know it very well that the members know you are innocence but seeing their horrified face only proving how powerless they are even if they spoke out the truth, the media had overpowered the truth once again.

You attempt to seek help from the occupants maybe there’s hope among the darkness “Hey, we can fix this together, we got thi-”. You look back to the sound of opening door, you saw a group of people with a dark blue uniform. One of the guys walk up to you with a handcuff “Mr, you are under arrest for assault. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law” prosecuting you by handcuffing both of your hands.

“Sajang-nim! hey Sajang-nim! what are you doing? Is this some sort of prank? Get off me! I’m not finished talking to the CEO” you squirm left and right unable to come to terms with reality as the policemen drag you out of the company’s building. You are then met with million flashes of camera shutter from dozens of reporters from difference mainstream news agency and plethora of mic shoved in front of you. “Did you hurt Nmixx member?”, “What grudge do you hold onto them?”, “Is it related to Jinni leaving”. Avoidance of camera shutter and mic was the only thing you do up until you step inside at the back seat of a cop car. From that point on, the future looks bleak.

Back at Nmixx dormitory, Sullyoon just woke up from her heart fluttering dream of you. She took it as a sign of good weekend, maybe she could even get you to spend time with her. But soon, her initial thought was replacing with questionable silent atmosphere of their dorm. She wonders where everyone went. Did they go to get grocery? She investigates every room, but no one was there. She went back to the living room and detect the sound of doors opening. She doesn’t suspect anything and saw her members returned from somewhere she isn’t aware off.

As she inspects closer to her member and grasp a situation from what it seems to be the members just arrived from a crime scene. Some have dark spot under their eyes, some have tears spot visible. She inquired about what happened this morning. Upon hearing the news, she thought her aching sharp pain on her wrist is the most painful experienced but that turns out to false after what she just heard from the members. Just a mere thought of not being able to see you again shattered her heart to million pieces. Tears starting to shed to thousands off her eyes. She would gladly trade her arm to be able to see you again.

 She couldn’t had imagined she would wake up into this nightmare. She slams her affected wrist hard into the ground hoping to wake up from this unbearable nightmare but it only making her wheeping in pain and mourn over your disappearance even more. A total horror shot down upon their members faces as they immediately went towards Sullyoon to stop her from hurting herself. They couldn’t stand anymore seeing their loved ones getting hurt after losing you and couldn’t be possible be her next.

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It’s been weeks since the article explode, with Nmixx’s manager arrest and their activity was halted after the controversy. And here you stand in the middle of your cell, staring out into the small opening separating you and the outside world. You would be lying if you couldn’t be any better since your arrest. Honestly, it turns out going a lot better than you expected. No need to deal with early traffic, countless paperwork signage, eyes blinded by paparazzi, and…...even free from controversy.

Life’s great in here but there’s lingering void in your heart that you are longing for, the feeling of loving someone, your little sister and the members that you leaved unintended. They are the only thing that you have left, Jiu; your little sister, Haewon, Kyujin, Jiwoo, Lily, Bae and your dearest Sullyoon. By now, you had truly accept your feelings for her, there’s no faking it anymore. *Bang-Bang-Bang- “Wake up sleepy head……you are free now” You are about to scream with anger when the guards interrupt your daydreaming, but the latter comment got you perplex.

No news, no message, not even a pigeon letter informing you about your released. With your former outfit on, the one clothing before you were dragged to jail. You stand cluelessly outside of the prison gate with no goal in mind. You thought of going back inside with now that you don’t have anywhere to go. On the verge of making the decision, you heard a honking noice. “Hey kid, need a ride?” that one pervy ahjussi from the convenience store is here to fetch you after your discharged.

While you and ahjussi strolled down the highway in his muscle car, you end the silence by inquiring him about your release. Ahjussi simply hand you his phone with an article already opened on the screen. “NMIXX’s Manager Was Never It, It Was The Reporter” you read the title word by word, not repeating the same mistake again like how you act cocky towards the CEO for missing the detail about the whole issue. Just right below the title, a display of a video playing a clip.

The clip basically displays how the incident played out from a different perspective. The video capture from the initial grab of Sullyoon wrist with a clear sign of the reporter pulling her wrist forcefully, up until the second you popped into frame interfering the scene showcasing the need of rough grab onto the reporter’s wrist. “Heheeheh, took them long enough to post the video” you let out a feeble laugh on how ridiculous that you shouldn’t have to serve your time in prison if this video went viral, but your realistic mindset brings you back with optimism. “It must be tough mentally for the user who recorded this to post the video” you mutter to yourself.

On top of that, there’s another clip that catches your attention as the thumbnail used was clearly shows Sullyoon’s face. As you tap onto the video, you’re in for a treat as the seconds progressing through the video. Your heart softens and turns into fragile glass witnessing the content displaying Sullyoon speaking the truth to the media.

 It was clearly shown it was her own initiative knowing the low-quality recording. “Our manager-oppa actually……...he was never the one that was portrayed on the article. Ever since our debut, he always there for us through thick and thin. He can be selfless at times and still got his insecurity about taking care of people, but he is putting his effort at best……...” she proceeded to explain her whole side of the story supposedly being the most affected victim out of this tragedy. Until reaching the moment where you and she went to the hospital to seek medical attention to treat the injury origin from the earlier event. Adding more sorrowful setting in the video, it was self-evident that Sullyoon was stifling her tears wallowing the past for the sake shedding the truth to the world.

For the first time Sullyoon referring you as Oppa was one thing to think about. Her comforting words heals your self-doubting capabilities of managing them was another. The video’s sound cut off suddenly, marking the end of the video. You rub out your eyes to dry out the tears. “Have you got any place to visit?” he probed you for answers. You choose to visit your little sister, Jiu.

Jiu, being one of those people that you are truly cherishes. But unfortunately, she got chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS). You aren’t an intellectual in diseases but after reading a few articles of it. You are only saddened by it fully understand how unfortunate Jiu’s condition is. Here is the analogy, normally you’re tired, you take a rest, you got better but for these patients they get tired, they take a rest, and they are still tired. Most hurting part about it, Jiu’s smile will always be carved on her face whenever you visited her.

The journey to the hospital where your sister hospitalised was quiet, with you sitting silently contemplating your current situation. The pervy ahjussi was only a nickname for him from the first impression of him. When you first moved into your current apartment now, as you open the door, the sight of him ducking with a bra attached to his face makes a terror out of you. It was a pain in the arse for him to explain himself, but it got solved soon later. Apparently, he was the landlord wanting to check the water pump to your apartment but still that doesn’t explain the bra part.

Soon after knowing him even more, he doesn’t appear to be of what your first impression thinks of him. Yes, he’s the one been there for you at your lowest, betrayed by your fake friends, the genuine one taking his own way to the after world, news of your sister had to be transferred to another hospital due to the lack of service of the former hospital as your sister illness getting more severe. Everything went downhill for that whole week.

It was raining that day; you embrace the coldness of rainwater soaking you in waiting hypothermia to put a full stop of your life voyage. It all change when the drunk ahjussi throwing tantrum you to drink with him because he needs a drinking buddy. You got more confused at a drunk a person taking walk outside in the rain, being drunk should be enough reason to. Entering a new day, you regret drinking with ahjussi as you got a massive hangover. Both of you went to their respective toilet bowl and a sink to ease up the hangover. Who would have known a middle-aged man acting childish to annoy you would extend your lifeline.

Reminiscing the past got you company for the whole car ride. Upon arriving, you inform the receptionist about your presence before strolling down to her room. You asked ahjussi beforehand to stop by a store to buy some flowers and her favourite snack, tteokbokki.

As you look through the glass door of her room, you spot a figure that’s not matching with any of your possible ideas. Wears a black hoodie with a black cap on. Doesn’t look like a nurse here. You don’t remember having an extra sibling or relative. Is it Jiu’s friends? She never tells you about them, maybe she a got a new one during your time in prison? You set the final thought as the possible answer. But you are opened for any possibilities as you heighten your alertness as there’s couldn’t be possible, she got herself a boyfriends

You slide the door opened, attracting all occupant’s attention to you. As Jiu’s eyes set to you, she waved cheerly to you transitioning your facial expression from serious to friendly. Jiu was informed earlier about your visit by the nurse through Ahjussi contact. You saw the mysterious figure turn his face to see whom Jiu’s waving to, but he quickly turns back. You catch a glimpse of his side profile but can’t construct an image who might this be.

“Who is this Jiu-yah?” you inquire Jiu while you cautiously glance at the unknown man’s face, but the man keeps averting his face from you. “She’s been visiting me while you were serving time” you look at Jiu with question mark planted on your face. “She?’ you wide eyed you sister and emphasized the word pronunciation intricately upon this new disclosure. “Yoona-yah, don’t be shy, this is my brother” Jiu nudge Sullyoon’s shoulder a bit gesturing her to face you properly.

“Anyeonghaseyo manager-nim” Sullyoon lightly bow in courtesy and weakly smiled at you after she pulls down her hoodie. You got millions of questions running in your heads upon seeing Sullyoon visiting your sister

After a solid hour of connecting the dots, finally everyone is on the same page. Clearly during your imprisonment, Sullyoon decided to visit your sister as she feels like it’s a right thing to do. You are not the only one having guilt rotting you alive, Sullyoon also felt the same way towards your sister especially, having your loved one wrongly accuse because one’s unable to do anything in their power to save them. With the help of manager-unnie, she could track where your sister hospitalised.

Ever since then, Sullyoon and Jiu were so in tune together, even if it’s only a couple of visits but every meeting mends her heart as she expressed out to Jiu like you were in front of her. While Nmixx schedule suspended and everyone were so stressed handling the issue, Sullyoon able to find tranquillity in the midst of this controversy by visiting Jiu in her free time. Every time Sullyoon visit your sister, she talks a lot about you, in which you aren’t conscious about. Jiu has a knack for digging through people emotion, mind controlling everyone to spill a little too much information. She kind of have a plan as she heard you are going to visit her at the same time with Sullyoon

“Oppa, what are you going to do now? you’re free” Jiu raise a question to you, unconsciously waking you up from staring a little too much to Sullyoon, hitting you back to reality now that you are yet again starting from zero. Sullyoon look at you with anticipation expecting an answer that align with what she hoped for. “I’m not too sure, probably check on Ahjussi about any job vacancy at his convenience store” you respond naively, earning a jab at your torso from Jiu. “What was that for?” you rub the area of Jiu’s jab quite shock by her random attack. “Just because” Jiu half-heartedly displays her fake smile with a scowling amber seeing your air-headed mindset. “Yoona-yah, you guys got a new manager?” Sullyoon shake head in denial.

In front of Jiu, presented two people who are unaware of their mutual affection. Jiu’s trying to play cupid with you two but the way you react mindlessly to the question earlier, makes her sighing with hopeless. “Alright then, I need to go to the toilet, so I don’t think I need to see you guys off, Is that alright?” Jiu clap her hand indicating you and Sullyoon can leave. She hopes that you guys can work this off on your own.

As the three of you walk out, “Bye guys” Jiu bid off cutely before turning around going the opposite way to the toilet. With both you and Sullyoon left alone, awkward atmosphere ensued. In your head, you amused how drastically energetic Jiu had been, you fully understand her condition as one can’t possibly exert themselves to much or they will be drained easily. Truthfully, having Sullyoon giving her occasional visit is good for her recovery in terms of emotional scale. Sullyoon on the other hand went haywire. She never thought she would see you this early after your imprisonment. Maybe at least she expected you to be freed from the charges but not this early after an anonymous video was uploaded online in which it clear out all of the injustice that had happened.

“Has your wrist fully healed yet?” your sudden question diverts her consciousness back, instantly making eye contact with you. You already know the answer as she’s now not constrained to a sling anymore, but you want to hear her soothing voice reply as it would put you more at ease. “It’s been only a week after I removed my sling, so far I can move my wrist around, even the bruise patch is gone” she showed you her wrist that’s been fully recovered returning her fair white skin.

Soon enough, both of you walk together mindlessly, cherishing each other company but reluctant to initiate a conversation. You look around you, empty and tranquil space of open-air area of the hospital encourage you to engage in a small talk with her. “How’s the members doing back at the dorm?” both of you converse with each other at a gentle pace, enjoying the moment. She calmly replies to you stating that the girls recover far better than expected after the incident. She goes on how the members cope with criticism and pressure from the media, reappearance of false accusation of the members kicking Jinni out of the group. There is some instances where Jiwoo was too scared to even go out of her room, locking herself up and many more countless nights crying, exhausting mentally by the insults and isolating themselves from the outside world. You regain solace again knowing the company doing their job rehabilitate the girls. Unluckily, you didn’t ask how she cope her problem considering she had cried countless night missing you so much.

“……. It was really a rough week, but I really wished someone was there to lend their shoulder when we are at our lowest” Sullyoon’s eyes are on you, she tries to push her luck to gauge your response, hoping it relates to you reuniting with the group again……. reuniting with her. You take a nervous deep breath, pretending to ignore her indirect comment towards you. You would be lying that you wouldn’t want to reconcile with them. In the matter of fact, you want to, you need to, but after listening of what the girls had gone through, you can’t fathom at the assumption of you retaking the position as their manager again without a promise that their safety is guaranteed. You done hurting people like how you have hurt your parent heart for being incompetent. Before you know it, nature had taken their lives before you can ask them for forgiveness.

You were so in dazed with your thought that you didn’t notice Sullyoon stop her track. As you feel an empty space right beside you, you look over your shoulder and see Sullyoon looking at you with a sulk as if she’s saying you are ignoring her. You grin, reliving the image of Sullyoon that you used to love but it’s time to let her go. You walk back to her in gentle pace. And as you stand in front of her, you patted her head and say “Yoona-yah………it’s okay, you can take care of yourself now”.

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5 years after.

“Sullyoon-sunbaenim (senior), how did you guy able to break the 7-year curse? and still maintained as a 6-membered group, and what makes you guys want to renew your contract?” Sullyoon lightly chuckle, seeing her junior getting nudge by her co-partner for asking to many questions in a single sentence. “Well actually, it’s a long story so I hope I can make you guys understand in a brief explanation…….”. She promptly continues her speech act stating the group secret overcoming the curse which is deep understanding to one another. Deep bond comes from extensive communication among the members, they would bicker over little things but communicate through small misunderstanding built into big network of empathy to each other. Additional point, the group made noteworthy changes after the big conflict 5 years ago,  Truly reinforced their capability to strive for the future. She ends her answer with a small bow.

Under the span of 5 years, a lot of unforgettable achievements accomplish by Nmixx. For instance, winning an award as The Song of the Year categories under The Mnet Asian Music Awards (MAMA) on their latest comeback and success continues with reaching new audience at the Billboard Music Awards and was proposed as one in the Top Duo/Group category. Focusing on more individual member, every member had done their solo debut. Presenting each respective member’s distinct colour including Sullyoon. Today marking her first solo comeback attaining her first win on Music Bank Show.

“Sullyoon-shii, after this magazine photoshoot, we will end with a fan sign event” Her private manager informed her for the upcoming schedule. She hummed in respond before he leaves her alone in the dressing room. She takes a quick moment looking at herself in the mirror tracing back of fond memories up until now. Ever since then, Sullyoon developed into more confident and independent women then she is. Her dedicated fan would discover that she’s becoming more charming than ever contrasting from her old wary and shy behaviour.

She got a call from her stone-cold manager “Sullyoon-shii, are you still in the dressing room? We need to move to the photoshoot set”. Sullyoon answer coldly before packing up her purse and finish her last two schedule. However, even if she did turn for the better, she prefers her old self, composed and reserved demeanour. In her member’s eyes, she’s still Sullyoon who opted to stay indoors and play games all day. Her on-stage and off-stage aura was so difference to the point where the members joke about her being another whole new person when she’s on-stage.

After the recovery of the tragedy 5 years ago,  manager-unnie was appointed as the main manager and got them a new assistant to aid her side. The new assistant who is now her temporary private manager is supervising her schedule strictly and professionally. Sullyoon only had one last schedule to go through.  “Huhhhhhhh, when will this end? I just want to go back home and sleep” Sullyoon whined in frustration leaning on her right shoulder on top of the vanity table. With eyes closed, she breath steadily trying to regain her composure after 10 hours schedule with barely any breaks.

As she opens her eyes, she sees her left wrist recalling her past memories. She sorts of wished that there’s more significant trace to preserve her memories of you. The only remembrance she had of you is her unforgettable wrist pain still fresh in her mind till this day. A ringing sound from across the room got her senses heightened, breaking her out of her mental imagery. She stands up slouching to get the phone call from her purse thrown to the opposite side of the room as she enters the room earlier in annoyance of her pack time schedule.

She takes out her phone and see the screen display the dialler’s name “Manager-unnie”. She takes the call calmly “Anyeong, what is it Unnie?”. “Ouh Yoona-yah, there’s some adjustment with manager time shift, it looks like my assistant had to went back to take care of other group itineraries, don’t worry we already got you covered on manager replacement, there will be a new manager on your way to take care of you starting today, Okay”. Before she can respond, manager-unnie hung up on her before she could ask for her new manager’s name. She sighs in disappointment but quickly regain her emotion at a thought of tricking the new manager to skip the last schedule so she can head straight back home early.

A knocking sound of the dressing room’s door can be heard signaling the new manager has arrived, “Wait for a moment” Sullyoon rapidly pack up her belongings to execute her plan. She maybe got a little too carried away of how thrilled this is going to work, taking advantage of newcomer for her own benefit. With her belongings in hand, she scrambles away towards the door. As she’s about to reach the doorknob, the door swings open hitting her in the face.

She lands butt first on the floor, making her flinch in pain “Ouch, can’t you wait outside instead”. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you” the familiarity of the voice got her nerves sending shivers throughout her body. She looks up towards the source of the voice, as her eye regaining its focus. You take her hand in yours helping her to stand up. Sullyoon gasped in shocked upon recognizing the figure she misses the most. “Y/N oppa?”.  

-The end-