#i could excuse it when from was niche. they are NOT niche anymore

[hornetstabber]

there is definitely something to be said about fromsoft games being notable for their difficulty having the unfortunate side effect of acting like some shield from criticism because if you have any issue with them there's a good chance someone is just gonna say "skill issue" without elaborating or thinking at all

it's kinda hard to reliably point out though, since that's obviously dependent on whatever an individual person considers bad design and what another considers difficulty. because i'm saying this despite how much i love hitting people with "skill issue" when i feel it's really the case

that said i'd like to reiterate that elden beast is a boring slog of a fight with nothing but pretty visuals going for it

[neferaskingdom]

♡ It's Not You, It's Your Pants | CL16

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: Girl roasts Charles Leclerc’s tragic pants online, then accidentally crashes into him in Monaco. Cue spilled coffee, fashion rants, and an existential crisis about how her life turned into a Wattpad fanfic in under five minutes.

A/N: Just a random crack idea I had after seeing Charles' pants on Pinterest.

CHARLES LECLERC MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

The pants in question:

Monaco was as glamorous as your Instagram feed had led you to believe—blue skies, sparkling yachts, and streets that looked like they’d been personally polished by billionaires. You’d come here for a break from your intense fashion studies, soaking up the vibes (and let’s be honest, hoping for a celebrity sighting). And maybe—just maybe—you’d catch a glimpse of a certain F1 driver whose face had become a staple on your social media, along with some questionable fashion choices.

It was your first time here, a small vacation before diving back into the hectic world of fashion school. Your excuse? Inspiration. But honestly, you just wanted to escape to the Côte d'Azur and sip some coffee.

But you weren’t just an F1 fan. You had your own little corner of fame on Instagram. As a fashion student with a decent following, your niche was breaking down and rating celebrity outfits. Recently, you’d gained serious attention for a video where you roasted none other than Charles Leclerc—the beloved racing prince of Monaco—for wearing, and you quote yourself, “blue baggy pants that looked like they were in a fistfight with a bunch of scissors.”

It wasn’t personal; it was business. And the fact that the pants had star-shaped rips in them? Your comment was basically a public service announcement.

“Look at these pants,” you’d said, holding up a screenshot of Charles sporting his, ahem, questionable fashion statement. “I mean, what are we even doing here? Are these pants or a craft project gone wrong? Who looks at a pair of baggy jeans and thinks, ‘You know what’s missing? Giant star-shaped cutouts for maximum confusion!’”

As you strolled through Monte Carlo, cappuccino in hand, you scrolled through the comments on your viral video.

“Not gonna lie, I kinda miss when Charles used to wear those skinny jeans that made him look like a confused hipster.”

“ARE WE JUST NOT GONNA TALK ABOUT THE STAR CUTOUTS?!?!”

“I think Charles Leclerc has been taking fashion advice from his 8-year-old self. Stars? Really? Babe, it’s not the 2000s anymore.”

“Not the hero we deserve, but the one we need—thank you for saying what we were all thinking about those pants.”

“Leclerc’s stylist should be fired, immediately.”

You chuckled at one of the memes someone had made—a zoomed-in shot of Charles in his infamous star-cutout pants, captioned: “I’m a star, literally.” Honestly, the internet was undefeated.

Mid-laugh, you rounded a corner, not looking where you were going, and—WHAM—collided with someone solid, causing you to spill your coffee, drop your phone, and let out a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a scream.

“Oh my God! I am so, so sorry!” you babbled, fumbling to grab your phone off the ground.

“No problem, really—”

You froze. That voice.

You didn’t need to look up to recognize that slightly accented, velvety smooth tone. The universe had decided today was the day it turned your life into a Wattpad fanfiction.

Charles Leclerc was standing right in front of you.

And not just standing. He was smiling—that damn heart-stopping smile—and then something in his expression shifted. His eyes narrowed slightly as if he was trying to place where he knew you from. You, meanwhile, were contemplating whether it was possible to will yourself into nonexistence through sheer force of embarrassment.

“You’re…” Charles blinked and then a glint of recognition flashed in his eyes. “Wait, you’re the girl from that Instagram video. The one about my pants.”

If your life was a movie, this would be the part where someone hit pause so you could have a full existential crisis. Unfortunately, reality didn’t work like that, and all you could do was stare at him, jaw slack, as your brain tried to reboot.

“I, uh… well…” you stammered, unsure of how to explain to the very person whose fashion choices you’d roasted in front of millions of people that it wasn’t personal.

Charles tilted his head, his smile widening. “You really didn’t like my pants, huh?”

Oh God. This was happening. This was actually happening.

“I mean, it’s not that I didn’t like them…” you began weakly, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that you were currently being confronted by Charles freaking Leclerc. “It’s just… they were, you know, kind of…” You gestured vaguely toward his legs as if that would somehow help explain your deep-seated hatred for the star-ripped monstrosities.

“Kind of what?” he asked, clearly enjoying watching you squirm.

You took a deep breath, deciding to just go for it. “Okay, look. They were confusing. Like, were they pants? Or was it some weird attempt at turning your legs into a constellation? I couldn’t tell. They had star-shaped rips, Charles. also, why were there so many weird cutouts? Are they… windows? Are your pants ventilated?”

Charles let out a snort, clearly struggling to keep it together. “Ventilated?”

You nodded, gaining momentum now. “Exactly! They look like they’re half-torn on purpose, but not in a cool, grungy way. It’s like someone started cutting them up and then gave up halfway through. And the bagginess? Charles, I don’t even know where to begin. It’s like you bought them two sizes too big, but then tried to fix it by adding rips. And it just… doesn’t work.”

Charles burst out laughing, his hand covering his mouth as he tried to rein in his amusement. “You really think they were that bad?”

You blinked at him, dead serious. “Charles, those pants looked like they got into a fight with a pair of kindergarten scissors and lost.”

He was full-on laughing now, and you felt a small victory in that. At least he wasn’t offended. Although, considering how often people talked about drivers online, he probably had thicker skin than you’d given him credit for.

“I have to admit, I didn’t think anyone would notice the stars,” Charles said between laughs, wiping away a tear from his eye. “But you? You gave them a whole five-minute segment.”

You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I didn’t mean to turn it into an entire rant! It just… it snowballed.”

Charles grinned at you, his expression softening a bit. “No, it was funny. I saw the video. My brothers couldn’t stop laughing. Arthur sent it to me like five times.”

You blinked. “Your brothers… sent you the video?”

“Yep. They even gave the pants a name. They call them ‘the constellation pants’ now.”

You couldn’t help it. You snorted. “You should burn those pants. Like, immediately.”

He looked down at his legs, pretending to think it over. “They’re not that bad.”

“Charles,” you sighed, suddenly feeling a wave of passion wash over you. “Those pants were an abomination. They weren’t just bad—they were like an insult to pants everywhere. Like, what even were they? Baggy, ill-fitting, with random star-shaped rips? Did they start out as pants or was it some kind of tragic attempt at upcycling? Because I swear to God, it looked like a fabric store exploded on your legs.”

He blinked, clearly not expecting you to dive headfirst into a passionate rant about pants, but there was no stopping you now.

“And don’t get me wrong,” you continued, gesturing wildly. “I’m all for experimental fashion. I love a good risk. But those pants? They looked like you lost a bet to a five-year-old. I’ve seen better craftsmanship at a kids’ summer camp sewing class. They were offensive, Charles. Offensive to pants, offensive to legs, and offensive to anyone with eyes.”

Charles looked back up at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Okay, but what’s so wrong with adding a little personality to my wardrobe? Stars are cool.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head. “Not when they’re cut out of your pants, they’re not!”

“Fair enough,” he said, still smiling. “But now you’ve got me curious. If I did burn the pants, what would you suggest I wear?”

Was this a trick question? Was he seriously asking you, the random fashion student who insulted him online, for fashion advice? What was your life?

“Well…” you began, mentally assembling an outfit in your head. “For starters, how about something that doesn’t look like it belongs in a bad 2000s boyband? Maybe some slim-fit jeans that actually fit properly. And—oh!—ditch the weird rips. You’re Charles Leclerc, not a rejected *NSYNC member.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by your decisiveness. “You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I’m just saying… you’ve got the face, the career, the whole package. You shouldn’t let the pants drag you down.”

Charles grinned, leaning in slightly. “So, you think I have the whole package?”

Your brain screeched to a halt. Did he just—? Did Charles Leclerc just flirt with you?

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, star boy,” you shot back, smirking despite the fact that your internal monologue was currently having a breakdown. “I’m only here trying to fix your fashion sense.”

Charles chuckled, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. And that’s when the next bomb dropped.

“Well then, maybe you can help me shop sometime?” He said it so casually, like he wasn’t currently turning your entire existence upside down with one smooth sentence. I THOUGHT CARLOS WAS THE SMOOTH OPERATOR.

“I—wait, what?” You blinked rapidly, wondering if you’d heard him correctly. “Did you just… ask me to go shopping with you?”

He smiled again, that devastatingly charming smile that should probably come with a warning label. “Yeah. I mean, you clearly have strong opinions about what I wear. Might as well put them to good use.”

Okay. Okay. Deep breaths. This was fine. Everything was fine. You were standing in the middle of Monaco, and Charles Leclerc—your internet crush since forever—was asking you to go shopping with him. Totally normal. Just another Tuesday. Nothing to freak out about.

Yet your inner monologue was screaming, “MY LIFE IS A WATTPAD FANFICTION, WHAT IS HAPPENING?!”

“I, uh…” you stammered, trying to process this. “Are you serious?”

“Of course,” Charles replied smoothly, his eyes twinkling. “I’ve got to fix my ‘constellation pants’ problem, right? Who better to help me than the girl who went viral for hating them?”

You were pretty sure your brain had short-circuited at this point. But somehow, you managed to respond, your voice steady despite the fact that your insides were doing cartwheels. “I mean… I guess I could do that. If you really want fashion advice.”

Charles nodded, then casually pulled out his phone. “Great. Let me get your number, and we’ll sort something out.”

You stared at him. Was this real life?

He handed you his phone, and you slowly, robotically, typed in your number, still half-expecting to wake up from this fever dream.

After you handed it back, Charles shot you a grin that could probably melt steel. “So… how about lunch tomorrow? We could discuss your fashion intervention plan.”

Your internal monologue was now full-on screaming. WHAT IS THIS LIFE?

“Lunch? Uh… sure?” you replied, feeling like a character in a rom-com who was two seconds away from tripping over their own feet.

“Perfect,” he said, his smile widening. “I’ll text you.”

And just like that, Charles Leclerc—the man whose fashion sense you had ruthlessly destroyed in front of the entire internet—waved goodbye, leaving you standing there in a daze, wondering if you were hallucinating or not.

Your life? Officially. Unreal.

[kkochigomi]

the ultimate guide to f***ing nomin

part one | part two

PAIRING: reader x jeno + jaemin

GENRE: smut, angst

SERIES WC: 35k

PART ONE WC: 21.9k

SYNOPSIS: DJ Juliette is over just being a DJ. She misses being a producer and working with artists but no one is biting anymore. She's living from paycheck to paycheck, so when MC receives a pink business card from that company, she should take it. But her fellow SHAWOLs are screaming at her and she knows better. So they send in the heavy arsenal wrapped in head-to-toe Chanel. This woman, named Lindsay Liu, knows she can talk her into it.

WARNINGS: dom!Jeno, switch!Jaemin & mc, PIV, DVP, cunnilingus, thigh humping, spit play, pussyjob, lots of sloppy kissing, deepthroating, rough sex, large... sizes, bisex, very strong language, threesomes, one reference to slight racism/xenophobia (very small inclusion, that character sucks, doesn't go into detail), CONVOLUTED AND CONFUSING AS SHIT, slight language barriers, hella campy/maybe even bad, mc is described as American and having a midsized body, explicit language and descriptions of sex, working at SM Entertainment, mc has a "stage name", Juliette isn't her actual name, let me know what I missed! (had to split this into two parts or Tumblr wouldn't let me post it)

+ dialogue and text messages italicized in their entirety means MC is translating them from Korean!

PROLOGUEˋ°•*⁀➷

Since you discovered your first iPhone had garageband on it, you’ve been drawn to production. Combining your passion with your– at the time– niche interest of k-pop, you garnered a little following on Tumblr making demos for your favorite groups. But as you got older and grew out of k-pop, you associated producing with that childlike naivety. So you switched to what your parents wanted.

Thankfully, you decided to ditch computer science in 2019 and do what you truly wanted, sending you deep into the underground. You weren’t the best or the most well known producer, but you could produce and you weren’t super expensive. As you worked your way through your bachelor’s degree, you got better and better. You became a little more sought after. Unfortunately, the underground was highly competitive. And you were sick of feeling like you slapped someone’s mother for asking artists to sign a contract. But luckily for you, you were being classically trained unlike most of the other producers you’ve met who are self taught. Some of them play instruments and know a bit of music theory, but your degree gives you a slight leg up outside of the underground music industry. 

So you ditched the underground in 2022. With your knowledge, jumping into the overside of the music industry wasn’t impossible. But it wasn’t easy. At all. You barely got any bites. Unfortunately, in this day and age people have stopped chasing after being pop stars and realized how lucrative the production scene was. Most labels weren’t desperate for producers. In the states, that is. 

DJing is fun. It’s cool… but you’ve always thought of it as a side gig. Good to break up any sameness. But lately it’s been your only source of income. And there’s nothing fun about living paycheck to paycheck. Or admitting your parents were right. 

You default to an easy crowd pleaser as your mind drifts. A rapper you used to work with often hits you up every once and a while. His latest text being:

if you’re worried about Drex threatening to slash your tires, don’t even sweat it! you’re always welcome back

You couldn’t afford slashed tires then and you definitely can’t now. Plus, you’re hungry enough without competition. You just want to make art.

“Excuse me, Juliette?”

Right as you step off stage, someone calls out your alias. You’re thinking it’s management, so you turn around excitedly and await payment. Before you is a middle aged Asian man with thick-rimmed glasses. You don’t recognize him, but the smirk on his face reeks of upper management. A smile that can only come from someone about to pitch you something they’re confident you won’t refuse. More like cocky. 

“...Yes?”

The man immediately launches into his spiel.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you worked with Flowra for a song on his new album, right? I’m Lee Sung-Soo, by the way. You can call me Chris.” He presents his hand to you. You did work with them, but they scrapped the songs you did together. Oh god, is this guy here on behalf of someone else?

“I’m not underground anymore.” You explain curtly, walking away. Chris awkwardly retracts his hand before jogging after you.

“Good! I’m actually an A&R director for a music label in South Korea.”

You freeze involuntarily. You hate to admit your younger self is squealing deep inside you. The you at the forefront, however, knows better.

“Which company?” You pose with severity. There is a wrong answer.

He does that annoying smirk again, feeling like he struck something. He speaks in Korean, but it’s simple enough for you to understand. When you started college, you were still heavy into K-pop and thought learning Korean would make engaging in Korean media much easier. So you took Korean 101, 102, and 103 before you realized how useless these skills were and slowly faded from the fandom. You still kick yourself for not studying Spanish instead. 

“Are you familiar with Korean music?” He says, his eyes brightening upon noticing your lack of confusion. However, you note how he doesn’t say the company name.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Take this!” He presents you with a card that he must’ve had ready since he approached you. You notice the card is pink. You look up, plastering a big smile on your face as rage boils in your gut. 

“Absolutely not.”

🥀 𐮙 🐻ˋ°•*⁀➷

The week following your meeting with Chris, SM is all you could think about. You were having a battle with your inner naive fangirl and your reasonability. 

Think about how many times they’ve been sued for mistreatment! I mean come on! This is SM we’re talking about!

You could meet Key.

You slam your pillow over your face and scream. It is simply preposterous how much weight that one possibility has. It’s not even certain! You turn to what you always do when you need to shut your brain off and let it rot, social media. You opt for Instagram. Though you rarely post, you need to keep track of your DMs in case artists reach out. It’s also your favorite place to keep up with celebrities. You opt to check your DMs first. Immediately you’re stumped by a name. Not because you don’t recognize it, but because it sounds so damn familiar.

Lindsey Liu.

Your knee-jerk reaction is to assume you’re thinking of Lucy Liu, but when you look at her profile picture, she even looks familiar. 

lindsayliu Hey doll~ I’m looking for someone to produce a project I’m working on. I have my own professional studio, so you can just come to my place to work on it. I know it’s sudden, but how does tomorrow sound?

‘Hey doll?’ you think, scam detectors blaring. You click on her account, her number of followers dumbfounding you. Twenty-one MILLION? You don’t personally know of bot accounts that are that ballsy with their follower counts but you know exactly what to do to fact check. You scroll throughout her posts, checking all of them for their engagement. By the looks of it, her followers aren’t fake. You even spot celebrities like Jackson Wang and Bae Suzy in her comments. On that same train of thought you check which celebrities you follow are following her. You’re shocked to see you have to click on them to see them all. You check each of their accounts, too. Just in case. And also because you’re in disbelief. You realize then where you recognized her from. Pictures with East Asian celebrities you follow.

You don’t even want to get excited and share the news to your friends and family because they’ll just ask you who Jackson Wang is. You haven’t been in touch with a real life k-media fan since high school. No one in your contacts understands how cool this is.

You clasp your hand over your mouth, unsure what to do with this information. From your research, she’s the only daughter of a Chinese billionaire. As for what she does? You’re not entirely sure. Just a vague rich influencer. Half of her pictures are her dressed to the nines in some sort of low lit venue. She’s either accompanied by her girlfriends or a drink or both. This backs up what you googled about her being a party girl. A controversial aspect as it seems. As if most of the people criticizing her wouldn’t do the same with that amount of money. Scrolling through her pictures, you could tell you would be susceptible to a parasocial relationship. You find yourself trusting her, but you know better than to be a victim to another Anna Delvey.

Hey! I don’t mean any disrespect when I say this, but I want to be upfront about a few safety measures. A friend of mine will know my location at all times and who I’m meeting with. I also have a producer’s agreement for you to sign to protect both of us. If you need to arrange for a lawyer to look over the contract, we can push the session back. Or you can have the contract signing and studio session on different days.

As you typed out the message, your excitement dwindled. The possibility of this being a scam and her being scared away now seems more plausible after letting everything simmer. Of course you’re happy you’re not going to get scammed, but you’re also pondering the possibility she’s legit and is offended by the message. Still, you don’t leave the message thread.

She doesn’t respond for several minutes and you need to relieve a little of your stress. You turn the tv on and put on anything. You throw on a show people have been begging for you to watch but you’re positive won’t be your style. Twenty-three minutes pass, no response. You’re not exactly sure what you’re expecting, her being legit means she’s definitely not glued to her phone all day. She has the money to actually experience things you only view through social media.

Three episodes pass and you’re apologetic to everyone online and in your life you ignored about watching this show. You’re completely, utterly engrossed. So engrossed that you forget the name Lindsay Liu. 

An entire season later, you sniffle and set your box of tissues back on the nightstand beside you. You’ve ignored your growling stomach in favor of being glued to the tv for long enough. You reach for your phone to order what you’ve been craving this entire time when you see the message thread. Lindsey had sent a message three hours ago.

“Holy shit,” You laugh, nose still clogged with snot.

lindseyliu Sounds good! I have a few more ideas to make you feel safer. We can do a video call beforehand and I can even show you my surroundings in case you think this is some weird new version of pig butchering lol. I’m sure you’ve already looked me up, but I can show you my ID to confirm my identity. I think signing the contract beforehand is great! In fact, you can pick a cafe or something where we can meet up. I usually arrange for my driver to pick up the people I’m meeting with, but I understand the implications of someone from my camp transporting you. Instead, I can send you some money and you can order your own uber.

lindseyliu Pleeease let me know if there’s anything else I can do~

🥀 𐮙 🐻ˋ°•*⁀➷

Lindsey is quite the character. When you’re texting her and in real life.

“I knew a lawyer wasn’t necessary, this is a standard producer’s agreement.” Lindsay lowers the packet from in front of her face and smooths it onto the table. She glances up with a small smile as she slips a rectangular clamshell case from her purse. She cracks it open to retrieve what you assume is an exorbitantly expensive pen. She taps it to the first dotted line, freezing with her brows knit together. She takes a quick inhale before asking a question.

“How much do you make?” She twirls her pen as her posture shifts completely into focusing on you. Your mouth snaps shut, puzzled as to what she could be asking. You look around as if the bustling cafe will serve you any clues.

“Are you asking what my rates are?” You slowly move your finger to one of the many paragraphs on the contract. “$100 for every six hours. It’s outlined in the agreement.” You laugh nervously. She did read it, didn’t she? She laughs as well, but hers is incredulous.

“And that is criminally low, but that’s not what I’m asking. Is there a reason you charge that low? Do you get so many clients that how low this rate is doesn’t matter?” She’s starting to look worried… or maybe that’s judgement. You shift in your seat, hand rubbing your upper arm.

“N-no… it’s actually the opposite. I can’t afford to charge any higher. Then I wouldn’t get any bites.” You sink a little, unable to look at her after admitting something so pitiful. Lindsay looks to be fighting a fierce inner battle. She looks over the mezzanine the two of you are sitting atop of, stroking her chin. Why your nervousness manifests into a dry laugh, you’ll never know. One slips before you can get the words out.

“Is there something wrong? I mean, you can pay more if you’d like.” You offer half-jokingly. Lindsey’s eyes return to you after that, looking austere. You clench your mouth shut.

“You know, Juliette, I didn’t reach out to you because I heard you were cheap. I reached out to you because I heard you were good– no, great. After hearing it for myself, I was flabbergasted that I didn’t recognize your name. Forget about money, talent like this deserves fame!” She gathers both your hands with pure elation in her eyes. You’ll admit, it’s rubbing off on you. For a split second, the most vivid image of you with a Grammy in your hands flashes in your mind. But then you came to your senses. You carefully ease your hands away and she looks at you curiously. 

“I um… I’m sorry again if I sound rude but, I’m not entirely sure why you care so much?”

Her face softens in understanding.

“Right, and I’ll be totally honest with you. I’m very familiar with the music industry, but not exactly the western side.” She peeks to see if you’re following and you nod. She was born and raised in China, so it makes sense. 

“I’m a little close with some of the music executives in the East and I often pick up on tidbits of information. I’m sure you’re familiar with Chris Lee?”

Your expression hardens.

Oh. 

Oh.

You push yourself up from the table and take a deep breath. Of course. It’s so obvious now. You don’t know how you ever thought SM would take no for an answer.

“What’s the matter–”

“I am not working for SM. D– Are you a k-pop fan? Hell, you have to be aware of how bad SM’s relationship is with China, for good reason.” The anger squeezes the words out of you until there’s barely air left to supply them. You were worried about getting Anna Delvey’d and got Lee Sooman’d instead.

“Hey listen, I don’t work for SM. Like I said, I only heard about this through the grapevine.” Lindsay is cool as a cucumber as she attempts to talk you down. She gives you a look as if to say ���I know you know you’re being unreasonable’. It only angers you further, but when she gestures for you to sit back down, you do so. Not only because you were causing a bit of a scene, but because you do have some things to say. 

“So, what, I was never getting paid? Was there no song?” You grill her but she stays calm, relaxing back into her chair even. 

“I never said that. I heard them lamenting over losing you and I had to check you out. I’m sure you know that I’m a no good party girl if you did your research. I’ve been dabbling in music. You wanna hear it?”

“No thanks. I believe you.” You reply sarcastically and roll your eyes. You’re more angry at yourself. How many times are you going to be almost coerced into literally selling your soul to satan. She starts speaking again but you don't even look at her in favor of mourning.

“You asked why I care so much?”

That catches your attention and you side eye her. 

“You’re absolutely right about SM. I hate them too. It’s the talent I’m focused on. You deserve to be paid better and the idols deserve better in general. Are you familiar with dearALICE?*” She takes a sip from her latte as she waits for your answer.

“... No?”

“Exactly. One of the members is a friend of mine. K-pop audiences don’t know they have a pre-release single out. People who don’t listen to K-pop don’t care. Focus groups are reacting negatively to every song DJ Rouge produces. They ended up rejecting Rouge altogether. James is worried sick about how the higher ups are talking about them. If they don’t find a producer who can give them a fresh sound that impresses the focus groups… James and his members might be put in the dungeon. They’re too talented for that.”

With that, Lindsay finishes her latte and stands from the table. You find yourself looking down at the lower floor now, immersed in thought. Lindsay tells you to think about it and message her before she leaves the cafe. SM putting an artist in the dungeon? Now that’s opening up old wounds. 

You felt so helpless when it happened back then.

( *Nothing stated about dearALICE or any real life artist or company reflects my opinions of them or what state they're in in real life. It is just made up for the narrative. )

🥀 𐮙 🐻ˋ°•*⁀➷

“I dunno… she seems strange. You can be an heiress and be sketchy.” Bloops and beeps sound as your best friend plays on her switch, laying like a corpse on your bed. What she says just blends in with her gaming commentary for you. You’re just thinking out loud. 

“The song is bad though*…” You mumble through nibbling your thumb nail. It commits the grave sin of having an instrumental be the chorus and a bad instrumental at that. You’ve never heard of a DJ Rouge, but he oughta be ashamed of himself. The poor souls are even drowned out by the backtrack and compressed all to hell.

“I can do better…” You say a little quieter, unsure of where it came from or if it made you sound arrogant. You really, really could though. You got a feel for them as much as you could. Listening to any snippet you could find of them singing or performing. Getting a feel for their natural aura and the vibe SM had in mind. You were waist deep into research when the question hit you.

Why you?

Why is Chris Lee in your DMs, checking if you changed your mind? Furthermore, are you the only producer they approached? That’s impossible. A company of their size probably has so many producers at their disposal. This feeling reminds you of being in the underground again. You hate this feeling, but you glance over at your document, feeling pricks of excitement.

( *Nothing stated about any real life artist or entity reflects my actual opinions, and is done solely for narrative purposes. )

🥀 𐮙 🐻ˋ°•*⁀➷

You blindly reach for your drink and brush against something. Multiple of something. Cans of soda and energy drinks topple off your desk. You look guiltily at your ipad propped up next to your monitor. The 3D man staring back at you smiles, oblivious to your chaos.

“Caleb, what am I doing?”

Just then, your ‘quality time’ session expires, the app prompting you to add more time or quit. There’s no need for more time. You glance at your finished project hesitantly. 

Lindsay messaged you five days ago and you told her you were still considering it. Truthfully your inner fangirl broke free from her chains and took the reins. Any breaks you had from producing the demo you spent rewatching your favorite SHINee moments from when you were younger. It was like the emotions never left. Taemin, the love of your life after Caleb, isn’t under SM anymore unfortunately (more like fortunately). But your bias and favorite person in the world still is. There’s a chance you’ll never meet him, but the odds are increased compared to before.

You close ProTools and Love and Deepspace before rolling away from your desk, thinking about how to celebrate finally completing this project. Your heart thumps against your ribcage at the thought of busting open tumblr and reading some Caleb smut. It takes you a moment, but you soon realize how sad that sounds. Your reward is imagining yourself having sex. You sigh, planning to text Lindsay after you commiserate with your bestie. 

I NEED to get laid

like… yesterday

You laugh to yourself, thinking of how she’ll respond. Either by agreeing or getting angry at you for reminding her of little play she gets.

Hey, sorry for the delay, how does Tuesday sound?

Lindsay’s phone buzzes and her acrylics clack against the screen as she opens the notification. She gasps lightly before the corner of her mouth curls into a smirk. She snorts, shoulder bouncing as they are kneaded into by her masseuse. Lindsay relaxes, sweeping her legs onto the living chair. If you’re having trouble with that, Lindsay has an offer that’s going to be hard to refuse.

She dials Chris’ number and he answers quickly. 

“They’re busting my balls over here.” He rushes out, already prepared to scold her. 

“Relax! I told you I would handle it.” She laughs softly into the receiver. 

“You better, because if you screw this up for us, Mr. Jang won’t want to see your face anywhere near here. Your gambling? It’s a bad look.”

She tongues her cheek as she thinks about your message again. 

“Hmmm, I’m feeling like raising my bet for dearALICE to 300k.” His silence on the other end makes her cover her mouth and laugh harder. “Oh, and tell James we’re best friends now, I’ll explain when I get there.”

🥀 𐮙 🐻ˋ°•*⁀➷

TUESDAY

“It’s fine. I already told you! A girl’s gotta get laid.” Lindsay shrugs, struggling to suppress her smile.

This only makes you crumble further with a wail of despair. 

“No, no, no!” It’s not being slutshamed that you’re worried about. It’s the soul crushing, utterly debilitating cringe. Your brain is distorting the message to be way more aggressive and debauched than it was and you wish you could turn it off. The moment your friend asked what you both had planned for Tuesday, your stomach dropped. You were hoping– praying to anyone that the message didn’t send. You weren’t so lucky.

“But girl! You live in Los Angeles! You can’t find a man?” Lindsay throws her leg over the other from the other side of her dining table.

“I don’t want a boyfriend, I just– NOPE!” This is the opposite of turning your brain off. This was the satisfying conversation you were supposed to be having with your friend when you sent that text. Not this embarrassing, confusing mess. You haven’t even told her about your demo yet.

“Look, do you want ice cream?” You don’t get to answer before Lindsay smiles at the woman… accompanying (?) you both by the table. She comes back with two tubs of ice cream with labels that can only be described as a graphic designer’s wet dream. You don’t even try to pronounce the name of the brand. You hesitantly grab the spoon like a child parsing if they’re doing something naughty. You glance at Lindsay who is already bringing a spoonful to her mouth. She rolls her eyes back with a moan of pure ecstacy. She points at the ice cream approvingly, nodding at you.

Well, if the ice cream is poisoned, at least you won’t have to feel the cringe any more. You peel the lid away and dip your spoon. Plain vanilla can only be so good. At least, that’s what you thought before the succulent ice cream smoothed over your tongue. In seconds you become an ice cream snob, because the cheap ice “cream” you bought at the store isn’t cream at all. This is what cream is truly like. You suddenly feel like falling to your knees and apologizing for the ice cream you made in middle school from shaking a bag.

After giving you some time to mingle with euphoria, Lindsay speaks again. 

“I get you, though, about not wanting a man. I hate men.” She digs up a heaping spoonful as she speaks and you forgive her for lingering on this topic. It’s the least you could do. 

“Love dick, though.” She says casually before popping the spoonful into her mouth. You blame the loud laugh that bursts through your lips on how loose and joyous the ice cream was making you. 

“Huh?”

“Dick?” Lindsay cocks her head to the side, a much too innocent gesture for the body part she just repeated. “Love it! Can’t live without it. I just wish it wasn’t attached to a man. Or if it was, it was attached to Qi Yu and he became real for some reason.”

Lindsay looks like a goddess even now while pigging out on ice cream, so it stuns you that she has fictional crushes too. With how she looks, she could easily bag a guy that looks like the fictional characters you fawn over.

“Is that an anime character or…” Your curiosity takes over. You’ll eventually get to the demo. 

“Oh! I mean… Rafayel. If it was attached to Rafayel.” She corrects before licking the back of her spoon. Your ears perk up but you don’t accept it at first. You jokingly say hot girls play Love and Deepspace, but is this hot girl actually playing Love and Deepspace?

“Rafayel?? Like, fishy?!”

Lindsay just grins at you, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Oh my– what level are you?” You don’t usually ask your fellow Love and Deepspace girlies this, but you need to parse how deep she is into the game before you get delusional.

“I’ve been playing since the game was released, so I’m at level 80. I’ve nearly gotten all the boys to level 100. I need to work on the two newbies, I’m a little behind.” She laughs and you almost bow to her when you remember she’s filthy rich. Of course her affinity is that high. Still, you can’t slow the fondness growing in your heart. This has to be a ruse, right?

“It’s so unfortunate most men pale in comparison. Everyone talks about k-pop idols who look like them but it’s usually not even close.” She sets down her spoon and covers her mouth with her hand, looking at you like she’s deliberating whether she should say something.

“K-pop guys aren’t really my type, but I met these two? I kid you not. It’s like being with real life Rafayel and Caleb. My two favs!” She squeals giddily and you involuntarily squeal with her. The thought of you with Rafayel and Caleb flanked by your side? Rafayel isn’t even your second favorite but you have a soft spot for him. The thought is enough to melt you into a puddle on her white, porcelain marble floors. You don’t know how she brought the whore out of you so easily.

You want to ask who so very bad, but she’s back to eating her ice cream. Dancing to indicate she’s just as blissed out as you are.

As the meeting progresses, you’re less eager to reveal your hand. Lindsay suggests you at least try it out, a trial period. You want to at least show dearALICE the demo and a vacation to Korea doesn’t sound horrible. But you know better, and she already lied and blindsided you once. What, one tub of ice cream and conversation about your favorite game and you’re just going to bend over and take it? They call it selling your soul for a reason. You didn’t ditch the underground to become chained to a soulless company. 

One you know the troubled history of.

“I would miss my bestie too much. I’m sorry…”

“I’m not fluent in Korean.”

“I don’t have the money to uproot my life right now!”

These are the excuses you offer up in favor of cursing SM’s name for however long she’ll allow it. For some reason, you’re getting the vibe that she sees right through your excuses. She crosses her arms and sighs. The two of you had moved to her chic office, and you think that’s partially responsible for why this all feels so real now. 

“I don’t believe those are why you don't want to move.” Her stare is intense, like she’s waiting to see you cave. You were right, she did see right through you. “Do you want to know why they’re so enthusiastic about you?” 

Not exactly what you were hiding, but now that she mentions it…

“Yeah. It’s a little confusing.”

“They’ve been following you for longer than you think. I have, too. It was only after I heard SM wanted to hire you that I knew you were kibumberry.”

You recoil at the mention of your old Tumblr blog. She saw those horrible demos? Her and… people at SM?

“Yeah, I was a huge fan. Now that I look back on it, a lot of those demos weren’t great, but there was one from 2018. Your most popular one before you disappeared. Key saw this one and loved it.” Your vision of Lindsay smiling before you gets a little hazy. You don’t know if you’re getting light-headed or what, but that information just refuses to settle in your brain. Key? Kim Kibum?

“No…” You try to stay calm, stay reasonable, but your heart is beating a mile a minute.

“The fact that you were only eighteen when you made it threw everyone for a loop. Unfortunately, and you know how execs are, they thought you were too inexperienced and it was too risky. But it’s been seven years. I think it’s time you realize that potential.”

You look up at Lindsay with a twinkle in your eyes. Just then you see something in her’s, something that constricts your heart with fear. She smirks, a knowing look on her face. She sighs peacefully before driving the nail in further.

“Well, when I spoke to Kibum about this recently, he was a little worried about SHINee’s next comeback. Don’t get me wrong, he’s excited to finally work with you and maybe even release that song. He just doesn’t want to get your hopes up about anything soon.”

“Are you sure you have that right? He heard my work? From back then? And liked it? I-I don’t know, this is all too much!” You look to the ground, trying to make sense of any of this. Lindsay smirks again, obscuring her face with her hand as she lets out a small laugh.

“Oh, doll. You haven’t even asked about the pay yet.”

CHAPTER ONEˋ°•*⁀➷

“I never thought I’d have a salary, but it’s just too much money to pass up on, mom.” You have your phone pinched between your shoulder and ear as you fold clothes and set them into your suitcase.

“Oh I’m not worried about you having a salary. In fact, that’s ideal. I’m worried about you going to a different country. I told you this when you were younger. Baby, those men don’t care about you. All that fake shit they do to the camera is to get money out of you–”

“Mom, do you really think I’m uprooting my life to date boys?” She didn’t need to know that in that moment, you thought back to the two idols Lindsay was talking about. But who cares? You can’t even explain to her that the one plastered all over your walls? The one you stole her lipstick to litter kiss marks all over his posters? He’s not even where you’re going. “I’m going to fulfill my dreams. Focus on the money and salary part if you have to.”

“Oh I am! I just hope you’re not living in a fantasy, babe. Why did I hear from one of my colleagues that you named yourself after one of Shine’s songs?”

“Okay, bye mom!” You hang up, throwing your phone on the bed as embarrassment and anger fight for dominance in your chest. 

It didn’t matter that everyone in your life was telling you not to do this. The tickets were already paid for by SM and you already have your apartment set up for you. It would be disrespectful. But also…  and this is the part you left out when sharing the news… violating the contract you signed without a lawyer present.

You hurriedly defend your actions as dread starts to set in. Yes, as outlined in your contract, you’re officially starting a 9-5. And you’ll probably have no free time. And all of this is going to be hard to adjust to, but Lindsay is going to be in Korea a week after you get there. She’ll have your back.

Lindsay, who is on a private jet as you speak, is popping a bottle of champagne as everyone around her cheers. They're celebrating finally meeting the quota.

You’re flying economy eight days later, stuck in between a bickering couple who insisted you were okay sitting between them. You don’t know what you expected. You’re not Marshmallow, they’re not forking up anything higher than maybe premium economy for the likes of you. You’re not proud to admit that you’re already slightly regretting at least some of this. You pinch your nose bridge, cursing yourself for not having a lawyer look over that contract.

Your apartment is smaller than the one from home, and you barely take your shoes off before your phone buzzes. It’s your work schedule. You start in two days. 

What have you done?

🥀 𐮙 🐻ˋ°•*⁀➷

A week in, you’re sending a hysterical, long message to Lindsay. They have you waking up at five a.m. almost every day. Even on days where you just have to sit in a meeting that is only translated by one of the execs when he feels like it. You’re not allowed to be seen on your phone if you’re not on break. Not even to check your email or a text. If they catch you, they scold you like a child.

And worst of all? Your creative freedom is a forgotten dream. Your moodboards are laughed out of the room. Your bulleted lists are shot down. No, they have their own bulleted lists. You garnered the courage from your pure annoyance with all this crap to suggest that hey, maybe we shouldn’t drown out dearALICE’s vocals. You know, the core part of the song? What happened? You guessed it.

You were fucking scolded.

The money isn’t worth this. This is something you knew already. You told yourself this as soon as you decided to pursue your dreams. No price is worth forfeiting your vision. 

You listen to your dearALICE demo again and again, mourning the loss of all your hard work. Your mind wanders to your last saving grace in all this turmoil. You switch to your seven-year-old SHINee demo. Would Key fight for your creative freedom? Or is that wishful thinking too.

Lindsey and who the hell are you?

You gawk at the message before groaning and throwing your phone away. She needs to figure out she texted the wrong number quickly so you can talk about this with someone who won’t say ‘I told you so’. Your phone buzzes again and you forlornly retrieve it.

Lindsey oooh em geee girl. lol i totally sent this to the wrong person. noooo don’t be discouraged.

I’m sorry, I’m genuinely wondering if I should cut my losses and just lawyer up to break my contract early.

Lindsey texts back at the speed of light this time.

Lindsey What?? OMG! If you need anything, let me know and I’ll help you out. Because you know how little of the lawsuits against SM were won! It’s scary…

I know… 

This is just everything I stand against and I let my excitement cloud my better judgement. 

Lindsey Yeah :((( you do what’s best for you!

Lindsey I almost forgot, I was just talking with Yizhuo (she’s a member of a newer SM girl group) and she’s a Love and Deepspace girlie just like us! I’ll send you her number

Ah, Love and Deepspace. You lost your streak for the first time since you downloaded. Every time you’ve opened it, you get scolded by Caleb for being gone for multiple days so you dread visiting him. Maybe playing it for a little will fix you. 

Lindsay sends you her number, but you’re hesitant. You hate meeting new people. It would be nice to have someone to talk about the game with since your friend doesn’t play it, but it’s going to be so awkward.

You’re immediately sucked into the game as soon as you open it. Lucky for you, Sylus’ birthday event just started. You have a lot of grinding to do. You have to find the willpower to open the app when you get home and not just rot in your bed watching tv. Your dinky Korean phone sends a notification and you check it quickly, traumatized from the last time you missed a text from Chris.

+010 XXXX XXXX Heeeey! PLEASE tell me your favorite LaDS guy, I need to know.

This must be Yizhuo. Did Lindsay give her your number as well?

Hey, this must be Yizhuo? And my favorite is Caleb… haha

Maybe: Yizhuo AAAAAH WHAT?! Girl he’s mine! Lol, just kidding. But I think I can’t live without him :*) We even have similar names lololol

LMAO really? Me too tbh… can’t get through paperwork without him

Yizhuo Yes!! I prop him up when I’m practicing so we can exercise together

Halfway through the conversation, you call each other so you can talk while playing the game. You suppose it is easy to get along when there’s a strong common interest. You’ll admit she was a welcome distraction. You even successfully started playing the game regularly again. She says you helped her with her streak as well. 

It’s not long before you guys start saying what’s really on your mind.

“If Yizhou would give me a chance I would wear him out good.” NingNing (as she told you to call her) hums like she just ate something delicious. You sigh loudly. Your vagina agrees. You’re a little scared to have a one night stand after the talk your boss gave at a meeting one day. He warned against inappropriate behavior and making SM look bad. It felt a little pointed at you, as you were one of two Americans, and the other one had been living in Korea since they were ten. You’ll admit you let an innuendo slip in the break room. Never had you experienced embarrassment than when the two other people there looked at you like you had two heads.

What if the person you sleep with finds out you work at SM? You have pictures from work on your Instagram, and you were told to follow the official SM accounts on all socials. If it got back to your boss, he would probably slut shame you. Or worse, you’d get fired and your mom would rip you a new one.

“Do you know where a girl can get a good dildo?” You grunt, selecting the ‘palm’ interaction with Caleb for the eightieth time today.

“The SM halloween party.” NingNing practically honks at her own joke before snorting into oblivion. You just sit there with your mouth agape. You never really pry into her idol life or what other idols are like. After producing for not only dearALICE but RIIZE and Mytro too, you get the sense their day to day is just as mundane as yours. They’re just as terrified of the higher ups as you are. Every time one of you gets scolded, you all just look at each other. You’re not going to lie to yourself and say you’re not intrigued about other things. Especially since you can’t get what Lindsay said out of your mind.

“I’m just kidding… or am I? Sungchan, where you at?”

You and NingNing immediately start screaming and laughing like you’re both up later than you should be at a sleepover. 

“NingNing!”

“I’m just kidding! I’m just kidding…”

You anticipate what she’s going to say and say it at the same time. 

“Or am I.”

You’re sent back into hysterics like school girls. 

“You should come this year! The staff aren’t not allowed to do much, but it’s still fun!”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her since she seems so excited to have someone to talk about LaDS with, but you probably won’t be here that long. The longer you stay, the more your only passion becomes a chore. You didn’t used to hate the mundane parts of production, but they’re like a slog now.

I looked it up, and maybe I can get a settlement with them and maybe have my contract altered?

You’ve been working with Lindsay on what to do. You feel like she’s the only person you can be truly honest with. However, you notice her texts are getting shorter.

Lindsay hmm yeah that sounds rght

Sorry if I’m asking for too much, but could you ask your lawyer if that’s even possible? I’m grasping at straws here haha.

Lindsay yeah my lawyer is here with me, we happened to be meeting each other when you txtd. he says he’s surprised you’re trying to leave. he said so many people would kill to have this job, and that you should consider yourself lucky to have an easy job.

Lindsay i persnkly dont agree, but he’s saying waking up at 5am isn’t tht ba,d

You can’t help how your chest gets hot at that insinuation. Did he seriously think that’s all you were complaining about? It was a large factor, but that’s minimizing your complaints. You don’t even know what to say. You’re not going to argue with him through Lindsay.

His words linger long after you read them. Every time a group’s manager makes a rude remark or scolds you, you wonder if your frustration is unwarranted. If you should just be taking it because the pay is good.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t stomach it. So when the overpaid babysitter tries to tell you how to do your job, you snap a little bit.

He shouted at you for over ten minutes while the group watched in horror. You balled your fists and avoided his eyes at all costs, lest he see the fury in your eyes. You get home and slam your door shut, chucking your phone at the wall with a frustrated grunt. Are you a child? And what does he know about production? If it were up to him, the finished product would be filled with dispassionate performances. And you’re sick of the little jabs at your instrumentals.

You furiously type up a text to Lindsay.

Lindsay, I’m sorry. I want to help James and everyone else, and I’d hate to let Key down—

You stop as you type that. Would future you hate you or love you for this decision? Probably both. The unknown is scary, but what you might do to one of these group’s managers scares you even more. You don’t need to be in jail and all over the news.

— but I can’t do this anymore. I’m going through with terminating my contract early

It was only there for a split second, but you swore you saw a message from Lindsay only for it to disappear.

Lindsay Come see me on your next off day.

The true power of a billionaire’s daughter is having mansions in multiple countries. This one is nicer than the one in America, though. It’s clear she stays in Korea a lot more.

“Please, sit. I’ll have Misook bring in some tea.” Lindsay gestures at the woman standing by the wall patiently as you sit opposite her on the other couch.

“Misook, can you please bring some chamomile tea for me and my friend? Add a teaspoon of honey and ensure it isn’t too hot when you bring it over.”

Misook agrees with a warm smile and bows before doing just that. Then Lindsay turns to you and you get this feeling in your gut. A similar feeling to how you felt on the plane ride here. Something about her patient smile unsettles you.

“SM sucks, huh?” She squints and wrinkles her nose at you. You clench your teeth and smile, hesitantly agreeing.

“It’s just not for me.”

“Every time I get home from a meeting I feel like a ball of stress. Work stress is worse than regular stress, it’s harder to get rid of.” She lets out a lighthearted chuckle and you’re starting to understand your unsettled feeling. This casual air to the way she speaks to you doesn’t feel natural. And you hate that the thought comes to mind, but what does she know about work?

“Yeah, the tea is very thoughtful actually.” You both laugh insincerely. The laughter prolongs awkwardly, like one person is waiting for the other to stop.

“Tea won’t do it, girl! I'm telling you, I’ve tried so many things. The only thing that truly gets rid of the stiffness is good dick.” 

Misook is back and you’re glad you’re both speaking English. She sets the delicate china in front of each of you.

“How have the men here been treating you? Same shit, huh?” She lifts the small saucer and teacup, nodding at you before taking a sip. You follow suit, delaying your response. You actually don’t like tea, but you’re hoping the calming effect everyone talks about is real.

“Actually, I haven’t had sex since I got here. Well, longer than that but you know what I mean.”

Lindsay slams her saucer to the table and gawks at you. “You what?!”

Before you could deescalate her energy, she is standing up and making her way to you. She sits next to you and gathers your hands in her lap. With a passionate look, she says,

“No wonder you’re so stressed out! Doll, you have to let it out! You literally work around hot men all the time!” She shakes your hands for emphasis and you slowly slip them away to lessen the sudden overstimulation.

“Ahem, no. None of them are my type, and—”

“And nothing! If you’re about to tell me you’re too scared to have sex with an idol because you could get in trouble, then you’re crazy! If anyone knows how to not get caught doing something they aren’t supposed to, it’s k-pop idols.” She stands in front of you like a hero who just rescued a civilian.

“And not only that, they are itching for it. When you have to sneaky link for sex every time, you start to have less of it. It’s exhausting! But it only makes you crave it more. Who is your type.”

“Well Taemin is my ultimate—”

“No. Someone still in the company.”

“Um… I don’t know. I—”

“Someone like Caleb? Strong, nice smile, dog-like energy? Unfortunately who I'm thinking of is a bit of a… package deal.” The look in Lindsay’s eyes when she glances up at you makes you wonder if she knows exactly what you’re thinking. Your mind goes straight to what’s been plaguing your mind since you got here.

‘... but I met these two? I kid you not. It’s like being with real life Rafayel and Caleb. My two favs!’

“Those two you said remind you of Raf and Caleb…” You start and she perks up. “They’re under SM?” 

They very well could be. Before you slipped out of the fandom, so many groups had debuted. You just weren’t interested in anyone other than the groups who got you into k-pop in the first place. Still… wouldn’t you have at least heard it from the LaDS fandom? You hear about that one twenty-year old from that survival show group who looks like a baby Sylus, never a duo that resembles Caleb and Rafayel.

“Yeah. D’you want their numbers?” Lindsay’s phone seems to teleport into her hand as she points it to you. 

“N-no! Do you know how weird that is?”

How weird this all is. Is she telling you to use the musicians you work with? If someone did this to you, you’d slap them across the face. 

“Weird? They’re practically begging for it. I bet you’ve noticed how feral Yizhuo is.”

“No, Lindsay. That’s not why I’m here. I don’t use my access to celebrities to sleep with them, it sounds predatory.”

Lindsay's face pinches then, plainly expressing her disfavor. She straightens it out shortly after, tapping on her phone. You have no clue what she’s up to until your phone buzzes. You slip it out to see a link to download an app. SCR is the name of it, and it looks sketchy as all get out. You look at her questioningly. 

“Don’t believe me,” she gestures at your phone, encouraging you to download it, “see for yourself.”

CHAPTER TWOˋ°•*⁀➷

To be clear, any group of people when using an app where evidence of what they say can’t be traced would say pretty racy things. Regardless of fame level or profession. These idols just have more resources with more restrictions to boot. Still, you’re not going to pretend these messages didn’t catch you off guard. Once you finally downloaded it, you were faced with UI that can only hint to some sort of malware on your phone. You couldn’t look at the app for long at first because it gave you a headache. The first message to you was from Lindsay. You couldn’t help but notice you never signed up, yet your full name is your display name. Lindsay’s being the same makes you feel at least a little more at ease. 

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ Once you see this message, lmk.

You text her back, awaiting this evidence she seemed so confident about. Instead you get… instructions?

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ Welcome to SCR! Wondering what that stands for? It’s pretty cut and dry! It stands for Secret Chat Room! It was created by someone just like you who was constantly surveilled and needed an escape. We apologize in advance for what the background of the app might do to your eyes, but you have to understand it’s needed! You see, this specific pattern causes a glitch in most phone cameras that warps any pictures taken of it. As for screenshots, if you have ever used snapchat you know you get notified if anyone takes a screenshot. The same goes for SCR. They are also strictly prohibited. Any screenshots taken will notify not only the users in that chat, but me, Kim Heechul, as well. We will work together to ensure the photos no longer exist. That will be a hassle for both of us, so let’s not take it there ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). Anyway, enjoy your time with SCR!

You drop your phone onto your bed and rub away your chill bumps. Why is this message so… threatening? He’ll ensure the photo no longer exists? You shudder as you lift your phone again. This is the closest you’ve ever felt to the deep or dark web or whatever it’s called. This feeling only intensifies when you see one of the groups Lindsay invites you to. 

Cheesily named “Gossip Girls”, this is the only chat you’re in with zero idols in it. It’s full of all of the non-idols that managed to get an invite. This is a very deliberate decision, because all they do is gossip about idols. This is how you find out Yuri is currently… We'll say deciding between a few men. None of them have any clue according to this stylist. You learned about an orgy, some 4th gen idol getting herpes and then taking a sick leave, fights that broke out, and groups/members that have beef. Your heart races as you look over these career ruining pictures sent to the group chat. Drugs, sex, and just all around delinquent behavior. In just thirty minutes of being glued to your phone, you had so many public images ruined for you. 

What they say is true, these idols are not who you think they are. You knew this, but seeing so much being confirmed in such a short amount of time winded you. You had to take a break. How do these girls do this all day? Then you felt it… that hint of exhilaration. You are (slightly) ashamed of yourself for opening that group chat back up to feel that rush of utter shock. It was then that you saw a picture of a once princely L from Infinite being very unprincely that you decided it was enough for the day. Your bingo card for the next one million years would have never included L snorting crack from someone’s asshole and you seeing it with your own two eyes.

“Wow…” You exhale shakily. Just like post-nut clarity, you feel extremely disgusted the longer you sit on what you saw. Not in them, in yourself and everyone spreading these photos and rumors. Isn’t the whole point of the app to escape prying eyes? That gossip girl group chat feels like reading gross tabloids or rubbing elbows with sasaengs. 

You let days pass by without opening that god forsaken app. Thankfully there are no notifications for the app, so it was a peaceful separation. 

This weekend is the first in a while where you and NingNing are both free. You flip a coin and decide the two of you are playing Animal Crossing today. You go from having a cute date to being stuck in a loop of whacking each other on the head with your nets. 

“Ooooh if there was a fart option so help me!” NingNing growls. You cease your whacking as the most visceral image is triggered into your mind of L snorting that crack from a crack and since NingNing unfortunately mention farting–

You shout loudly in an attempt to force the image from your brain, tossing your switch like a frisbee to the other side of your bed. “Oh my GOD!” You screech like you just witnessed an unimaginable eldritch horror. 

“What?! What?!” She sounds worried, but you can still hear the cartoonish swish and womp of her net upside your poor villager’s head. 

“Why L??! Why?!” You wail in agony before falling forward onto the bed. 

“Oh, right. Lindsay told me she invited you to SCR. I feel like it’s a… what’s it called… canon event for everyone to fall out of love with their favorite idol after downloading it.” She laughs crassly before stuffing her mouth with chips. She knows? She knows about this and she’s this casual? Your mind is permanently altered!

“You–! Did you see the picture too? Doing crack is one thing. Snorting it out of someone else’s ass is–”

“He did what?!” Only then does the whacking finally cease. You sit there, feeling like the physical manifestation of a question mark. 

“You didn’t know?”

“How did you know that?”

Upon learning about gossip girls, NingNing demanded to be added. There was no way in hell you were making that decision so you redirected her to Lindsay. She immediately hangs up on you, only to call you back about five minutes later. 

“So?”

“Check the group chat! Everyone is freaking out!” She laughs mischievously. You take a deep breath as you eye the group chat moving quickly. You shut your eyes as you press the group. When you crack your eye open, you see all hell breaking loose. The group chat is not happy about an idol being there, panicking about the messages they sent and the lack of an option to delete them. 

“Is this what they’re saying about me?” NingNing laughs, presumably doing the same thing that you and everyone else is doing and searching her name to see how heinous the rumors about her are. 

Ning Yizhuo`⎚⩊⎚´ -✧ oh… is that all you guys said about me? I’ll have you know, Sungchan and I did not date. We did fuck though ;))

The group chat explodes again, seemingly accepting another degenerate into their little club. Speaking of degeneracy…

You hadn’t checked the other group chats you were invited to. The first one you check is named “Scheduling”. A little vague and scary, but it turned out to be one of the guesses you had. An idol sends a message of when they’re free and, well, looking to score. They ask anyone interested and that meets the criteria they outline to message them privately, so the chat is full of requests and no responses. You see requests from lots of idols, but what you’re starting to gather from this and the next group chat is that some idols aren’t on this app, for obvious reasons. More importantly, SHINee is nowhere to be found. You can’t believe the disappointment that nips at you. 

The next one seems like a general group chat with what must be everyone on the app in it. It’s pretty similar to gossip girls, with the exception that you see the degeneracy of the idols from the source. You catch yourself laughing at some of the messages. 

“Oh! I almost forgot. If you’re on the app, you should join this one.” Says NingNing with her mouth full as another group chat pops up on your screen. “00-04z”.

🥀 𐮙 🐻ˋ°•*⁀➷

Lindsey Liu꒰੭ believe me yet?

You suppose you don’t have a frame of reference, but this is a bit what you expected all celebrities to be like. But you haven’t seen, say, Emma Watson taking a selfie mid-coitus. But if you said you didn’t feel like you were introduced to an entirely new world, you would be lying. You’d also be lying if you said you didn’t look up interviews with every idol you find something out about to compare. That kept you up far past your bedtime.

It was 3am when you decided to open the chat NingNing invited you to. You felt like you were stranded in unfamiliar territory. It was filled with idols you didn’t recognize. You’re positioned back to when you were first added. The conversation continues without anyone mentioning you. Only for a bit.

Han Jisung⓪⓪ hey

Baek Jiheon⓪③ rock paper scissors?

Yoon Sanha⓪⓪ are you in preschool? lol no. 

Han Jisung⓪⓪ kids.

Baek Jiheon⓪③ come ooonnnn!!! T__T

Kim Chaehyun⓪② There’s only one spot left. We have to decide.

Han Jisung⓪⓪ fresh meat

Yoon Keeho⓪① ?

Park Sohyun⓪② huh?

Zhong Chenle⓪① where?

Yang Jungwon⓪④ Why would you say it like that…

Kim Suyeon⓪③ new member? Where?

Han Jisung⓪⓪ … the only member with their name in english

Your head is already spinning from the amount of unfamiliar names, reading these messages about you only makes things worse. You find yourself holding your breath despite knowing this conversation happened hours ago.

Choi Jongho⓪⓪ Can they even understand us? haha

Yoon Keeho⓪① AYE. You there?

Ning Yizhuo⓪② Guys omg lol. That’s my girl friend. She’s ‘00.

Park Sohyun⓪② A girl????

Yoon Sanha⓪⓪ yessss. another point for zero-zeros.

Jang Eunseong⓪⓪ Another point for GIRL zero-zeros. We were drowning :*)

Yoon Sanha⓪⓪ maybe she could come lolololololol

Baek Jiheon⓪③ WHAT?! 

Yu Jimin⓪⓪ She hasn’t even spoken yet lol. NingNing?

Ning Yizhuo⓪② She’ll come eventually. She’s a little shy.

Zhou Xinyu⓪② awwwwww

Na Jaemin⓪⓪ Shy? ;3

Oh god, what was NingNing doing? She could have lied and said you were asleep. She’s not lying, but there’s something about being introduced as shy. Some people see it as a challenge. Those are the vibes you’re getting from this Jaemin character. Just from one text.

Na Jaemin⓪⓪ Someone spell out the pronunciation of her name in Hangul

That ‘Keeho’ person does it, and you watch in horror as they speculate about your attributes. If you’re tall or short, what your ethnicity is, and as Jaemin put it,

Na Jaemin⓪⓪ Is she as cute as you’re making her seem, NingNing?

Ning Yizhuo⓪② Ha Ha. Yeaaahh, stay away from her you junkie.

As you scroll down, you notice that he seems to be very curious about you. Everyone is, as you’re the first non-idol to be added to the chat. You can’t help feeling like a carcass with several vultures circling overhead. 

Your blinks get heavier and heavier until you drift into a different room. You’re tangled in red, satin sheets like the last tv show you watched. It feels nice, far nicer and more vivid than it should. You want to sink deeper when you feel a pair of hands on you. The hands sizzle against your cool skin, wasting no time getting under your flimsy slip and fondling you. You would be shocked if it didn’t feel so good. With two hands on your breasts, you feel another cup your heat. A strangled moan breaks free from your lips as you close your thighs around the hand. The first pair pries them back open. The omniscient sense that only exists in your dreams tells you that you know these two men. You can hear a dog tag jingling as the second one slips your panties to the side. If that’s Caleb, and this is your dream, the second has to be Sylus. But no, there is purple hair in your peripheral. Rafayel and Caleb… you feel lust skitter up your legs to your lower stomach. You bite your lip as a finger slips into your heat. You peer over at Rafayel as his finger slips into your mouth. 

“Is she as cute as you’re making her seem, NingNing?” He turns to someone in the doorway. As soon as you follow his eyeline, Lindsay slams the door shut. You jolt from the noise back into consciousness. You peer at your front door as if Lindsay would be there, your skin still feeling seared where those hands were.

Your lustful bliss wasn’t able to ease you through your work day unfortunately. As your bosses and the group’s managers pried any tranquility from you, you focus more on the strange part of the dream. Lindsay’s eyes become more haunting. Your last visit to her house is all you can think about. Then you start to pick apart all the other times you spoke with her–

“Are you listening? Hey! This is fucking garbage. What the hell were you thinking?!” One of the A&R managers, Mr. Myeong snaps in front of your face before banging his fist into the keyboard. You can’t stop your hands before they lurch toward the keyboard to stop him. He screws something up with your project, so you just apologize, dodge his eyes, and reach for your mouse. He smacks it away, cursing at you. You grasp your hand, looking up at him in disbelief. Bad idea. He chuts and almost shoves you straight out of the chair. You stumble away, barely catching yourself.

He mutters under his breath, clacking at the keyboard and clicking the mouse like it personally affronted him. 

“How many times do we have to correct you before you get it right?”

You hazard a glance toward the monitor. You gasp, covering your mouth as you watch him delete the entire project. He moves to your other pro tools files, highlighting all of them. You lunge toward him, grabbing his hand on the mouse before shouting for him to stop.

 He rips his hand away, standing from the chair and giving you the most disgusted look you’ve ever been given. He swiftly raises his hand and you flinch, guarding yourself. 

“Piece of trash…” He says under his breath before storming out of the room. Your heart thunders against your chest with each of his footsteps away from the media room. You don’t realize that you’re still guarding your face and lower your arms. You stand there, staring at your feet but really at nothing at all. You raise your shaky hands before balling them into fists.

The next two weeks feel like torture. You don’t dread work like normal people do. You prepare yourself for the emptying of your will and passion every time you clock in. Your bosses keep criticizing your messily tucked in shirt or mismatched socks but you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. 

You can feel yourself starting to hate producing.

You’ve made up your mind.

You’re going to quit.

Lindsay keeps texting you, but even deciding whether or not to answer is another layer of stress you can’t afford. You catch a glimpse of her celebrating her card pulls and you feel guilt tug at you. It’s just too much. Admitting your mom was right isn’t half as bad as suffering through this job.

I’m going to miss you, NingNing :((((

NingNing Ughhhh, I guess we can still talk about LaDS but that’s already what I was doing before! I want to talk about LaDS with someone I already know IN REAL LIFE!!

You pout for her, sitting on the edge of your bed with the horrendous posture you’ve adopted. As you type your response, something hits you and you backspace it all.

Why don’t you talk about it with Lindsay?

NingNing Oh PLEASE. She would just tell me to shut up.

Why would she do that, you think. But you suppose those two do have a sibling-esque dynamic. You exhale deeply before lying back on your bed. Your legs draw together like they do every time you get home nowadays. Especially after that dream, you can’t help touching yourself as soon as you get home. You bite your lip as you slip your work pants off and your underwear. Lately everything has been arousing you. You can’t watch any movie or show with a sex scene or else you’ll end up rewinding over and over until you get off and feel disgusted with yourself. Men at work with tight pants, women at work with tight blouses. Everything sets you off. It’s excruciating since masturbating or humping your bed like you’re doing now isn’t cutting it.

Forget someone finding out you work at SM, you don’t even have time for sex. That, and there was something so sweet about rotting your mind to porn. Love and Deepspace smut was great, but you had to use too much brain power. With porn, you could just turn it off. 

By month four of working at SM, you were a husk. The only thing that made something break through were the worried looks on the idol’s faces when they worked with you and the hurt texts from Lindsay. 

“I appreciate that you’re finally listening to instruction, but can you please speak louder?” dearALICE’s manager pats you on the back before humming encouragingly. He was less upfront about his disrespect, and you can’t decide if that was better or worse. He didn’t understand personal space and his only mode of speaking was sarcasm and backhanded compliments.

Despite feeling like the puppet they always wanted you to be, you still received “notes” at the next meeting. The next A&R staff assembly included a portion about enthusiasm and the cons of having a resting bitch face. Basically they want you to be a puppet and be happy about it. That’s a step too far for you. They’re getting what they want anyway. They keep bringing it up until you’re being pulled to the side by Chris himself about your strange behavior. It’s not that you’re being a smartass, you just don’t have it in you to emote while speaking to him. 

“Can you at least try to smile? D’you know how disrespectful it is to reply like an annoyed teen to your higher ups? Cut it out!” He shouts, through with trying to hide the fact that he’s scolding you on the side of the hall. Your coworkers walk past, looking confused and scared by the outburst.

You can’t catch a break from your coworkers either. To them, you’re an unenthusiastic trouble maker. Pretty much everyone in the building hates you. It doesn’t matter, you won’t be bothering them for much longer. 

Lindsay seems more erratic this particular day, blowing up your phone to the point you have to put it on do not disturb.

You get home and the cycle repeats. You strip down, hump your hand until you cum, turn on porn to do it again, turn on one of the more salacious sex scenes you can’t stop thinking about to do it again. And right as sleep is cradling you, the dream is vivid in your mind. You think of the soft satin against your legs, the fingers in your mouth and in your cunt and you jut into your hand one last time. Then you drift to sleep, the exhaustion at its peak. 

CHAPTER THREEˋ°•*⁀➷

No matter how many times your alarm goes off at five a.m., you always find yourself in a battle with your nineteen year old self. Because it still doesn’t seem real that you have a real job. With a schedule. And a fucking evaluation each quarter.

NingNing are you not seeing the gc? Lindsay just sent something CRAZY

You choose to ignore her text for one simple reason. It’s much too early to translate. You’re already grouchy from the impending evaluation, you’d rather just hurry and get ready for your first scheduled session. 

And throughout all three hours of said session, your phone is buzzing into oblivion. You have to wonder if a cartoonish vein is popping out of your forehead when one of the members stops singing in the booth. You look up to see not only him, but everyone else in the studio staring at you. 

“Juliette, if you need to excuse yourself for a moment to answer your phone, please do so.” Says the boys’ manager, looking unimpressed with your attitude. Embarrassed, you immediately stand up, bowing at everyone in the room and softly apologizing in Korean. 

You rush out in the hall, half of you just excited to be relieved of the tension you caused and the other half is eager to mute NingNing and Lindsay. Both of them are urging you to check the gossip girls group chat. You search for the app, forgetting what it’s called since you rarely use it. The less familiar logo is grouped with the other messaging apps. SCR… right, you think, and what does that mean again?

You’re tempted to delete it since it’s collecting dust, but deep down you know exactly why you won’t. You pretty much pass out as soon as you get home, so you haven’t checked it. But you haven’t forgotten the new world that has opened up to you.

The group chat has over 999+ unread messages. You’re not sure just how much that plus is hinting at since you rarely open it, but you remember there being significantly less the last time you glanced at the home page. And that wasn’t that long ago. That’s when you see the previews of the messages flying by. 

their shoulders are so broad, it gets me… this is so strange Lindsay, do you know their type? I wa… kinda horny now lololol I bet they only like really skinny girls… So what’s their size? Don’t leave us… i’d pay just to see it lol god they would KILL on onlyfans

… What in the world is going on? You tap the group chat at the speed of light. Frustratingly you’re positioned where you left off two months ago. When you finally get to what you assume NingNing is freaking out about, you see that it’s already translated for you.

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ Hello dolls, As some of you may know, I am moving back to Shanghai for the time being :*(. I know, I’m so sad! I’ll miss seeing your gorgeous, gorgeous faces in real life. Anyway, I’ve decided to leave you guys with a parting gift. Me being the only person to experience this feels like a waste. One of you has got to have sex with Nomin.

You gasp, hugging your phone against your chest. Your thighs clench on their own, feeling that lust creep through your bloodstream. God, not right now. The door creaks open and you feel your soul threatening to leave your body. 

“Are you okay?” The manager peeks his head out, looking just as annoyed as he always is.

“I-I’m sorry, there’s an emergency!” Your face is sizzling hot as you lock your phone. His face gradually softens. 

“You don’t look too good, you can take a short break–”

“Okay, thanks!” You rush toward a bathroom, any bathroom. Only when you’re locked in a stall do you feel yourself calm down. Your face is still hot to the touch as you unlock your phone. You have to admit, Lindsay really caught you off guard. God… if someone had glanced over your shoulder, you would’ve had your ass handed to you. Despite what their artists sing about and how they dance, SM is a very sexless place. Any innuendos or allusions to sex are strictly prohibited. A part of you felt like that was only targeted at you because you were American (not that you would blame them). But after being here for four months, you’ve gotten very used to the sterile environment. 

You’re already so sensitive to anything suggestive. Is she joking? If she is, it is a little funny. You think to message her that before you continue. 

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ Don’t worry, I won’t be jealous or anything. If you know me, then you know I refuse to be attached to any man lol. But you should know that they don’t just fuck anybody. From what they’ve told me, they don’t look at most girls. They’re very particular about the girls they seek out. If you ask me, that’s exactly why they barely have threesomes lol.

The first of many thoughts to surface is that Lindsay is clearly not joking. The next is a glaring question.

Who is Nomin?

You know better than to assume the k-pop industry debuted a nonbinary idol, so you’re not surprised when your google search returns two men. You’re also not surprised that you don’t recognize them since they debuted around the time you stopped caring about new groups. You recognize one of the names, you figure it must be from one of the group chats. They’re handsome, though. Very much so. They’re both charming in their own way, and you can see why they’re paired up. The vibes are reminiscent of the classic cat/dog dynamic you’ve seen. You tap your index finger against your lips as you sift through the images. They have nice physiques. They’re okay, I’ll always be a Taemin girl, though. You spin your ring mindlessly, unable to tear your eyes away from Jeno’s bare torso.

Right, the message.

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ Here, I’ve compiled for you the steps to attempt to get Nomin’s attention. Just to get it out of the way because it's obvious, you have to be up for a threesome. Even I couldn’t get one of them alone. Also, no idols. Upsetting one fandom is already horrifying, upsetting two is just reckless. Anyway, Tip One: - Don’t try so hard. If you look as good as they do, you get suitors constantly. And having to constantly deal with loud and unsubtle people is annoying. Besides, no one likes desperation. Tip Two: - If you’re going to change up your style and approach, don’t lay it on thick in either direction. Don’t become a BDSM dungeon master with your breasts practically falling out of your shirt. I bet you would look great, but you’d be ignoring tip one. But don’t put on that weird demure act either. If you’re covered head to toe and pretend to be sex averse, how are they supposed to know you want to fuck them? - (extra hint: dress casually, but give them something to… you know. A shirt just tight enough or a skirt just short enough they think their dirty thoughts were their own fault. Just off the top of my head, something like a graphic tee that’s slightly cropped with high waisted jeans that cover your midriff. Make sure the shirt hugs you just right 😉)

You laugh to yourself. Graphic tee she says. She could’ve just said t-shirt, but she’s making it very obvious. Perhaps on purpose. You pinch your jacket closed as if someone can see you right now. You’re wearing the same shirt you had on when you met her, now that you think about it. 

Tip Three: - A quick Do & Don’t for you: DON’T pretend to be their biggest fan. Name a single idol who has dated a fan. Exactly. DO become the best fan fiction character you can be. And I mean best. Don’t go to their concert and read a book, that’s ignoring tip one again. Don’t say you hate their music or hate boy groups. Subtler. Say you love boy groups. Hell, say you love SM groups… but you’re not very familiar with new ones. Throw an older group out there like I don’t know… SHINee. I think that’s why they reached out to me, being a 2PM fan and all. I wouldn’t have even looked their way on my own and I think that excited them.

That tip is the final straw for you. That one message was correct, this is strange. If she wanted to recommend you… have sex with those two, why wouldn’t she just message you? And are they even aware of all this? It all rubs you the wrong way and you start to text her exactly that. Lindsay beats you to it, though.

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ Have you read the group chat at all?

Yes, what the hell.

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ What did you think of the tips ;)

Lindsay. Don’t you think this is a little inappropriate?

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ Hey, I said they don’t like the innocent act.

I’m not participating in this! It feels icky. Am I crazy?

You exit out of her chat to message NingNing the same thing. You can’t be going crazy. This is weird. You fan yourself and exhale.

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ A little!! :D 

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ They’re already texting me that they’re going to be so lonely and horny when I leave… they may even have to play with each other to cope…

My GOD Lindsay.

You swipe the messenger away entirely, only noticing then how hard your heart is beating. You close your eyes and your mind immediately betrays you and paints the images you saw of Jeno and Jaemin together vividly. You ease onto the toilet, hands pressing against the stall on either side of you. The images refuse to cease and you let your thighs squeeze just a little. 

Your phone buzzes and you send a ball of saliva back to roll down your parched throat before opening the app again. 

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ Last time I checked on you, you told me you haven’t been getting any play recently. They’re going to be in the same boat soon.

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ Remember what I told you? Idols have to be picky about who they sleep with and how often they do it. I know you’re thinking about quitting because this job isn’t what you saw yourself doing, but you aren’t utilizing the perks, doll </3 !

The perks? Your perks are a discount at the SM cafe, 15 days of paid time off per year, a free bus pass, and making your passion your job. Getting closer to celebrities so you can fuck them sounds like something scumbag villains in Kdramas do.

No, this is wrong. There’s something about Lindsay that just feels off. You think back to that picture she sent you. You scroll through all her unanswered texts to you until you see it. She sent two pics, one of the five star card she pulled and the other of all ten cards. Why does NingNing feel she has no one to talk about Love and Deepspace with?

You reverse image search her pictures and it pulls up a reddit post. It’s the exact same freeze frame from the video that plays when you pull that card. And the ten pulls are identical.

NingNing Oh it’s absoLUTELY weird. But I wouldn’t put it past those two to be that freaked out.

NingNing Whatever you do, don’t tell 00-04z about this. It’ll be our little secret.

NingNing It’s going to be funny to see everyone try and fail to seduce them lol

Each of NingNing’s messages slide down at the top of your screen, replacing the previous. You completely forgot about that group chat. Jaemin…

Is she as cute as you’re making her seem, NingNing?

You hurry back to the recording room, apologizing and bowing 90 degrees to everyone in the room.

“Get over there already. How long are you going to make everyone wait?”

“I’m so sorry.” You say as you skitter over to the mixing desk. As soon as your thighs press against the seat and push against your vulva, you clench your thigh tighter, unable to stop yourself.

The minute you get home, you fumble with your keys trying to get in as fast as you can. You burst through the door and throw your purse off before practically ripping your clothes off. You don’t have to wait until you’re close to sleeping for that dream to appear behind your eyelids today. It’s all you could think about once you put a face to those words you’ve been replaying in your brain. You have another face now, too. You whimper as you stroke your aching clit. You replace Rafayel and Caleb with these new faces. It’s so wrong, but you can’t help yourself. It feels like the dream finally progressed. You have something to put in you other than fingers. Two things you want to shove anywhere they’ll fit.

You shove your face into the covers as a despaired moan is pulled from your body. Cum oozes over your fingers as you continue to hammer them into your throbbing hole. You cum five times until you have nothing else left and your poor nub starts to hurt. Only then does the guilt truly set in. Are these two meant to be the Caleb and Rafayel duo? They look nothing like them. And which is which? You laugh to yourself, mental and physical exhaustion dragging you to hysterics.

She got you.

🥀 𐮙 🐻ˋ°•*⁀➷

Every time NingNing tries to talk to you, you get distracted by the people with huge, hulking cameras following you.

“The guys are– ignore them. They follow me everywhere.” NingNing seems completely unbothered when she mentions that, but it sure bothers you. Even with her bodyguard following close behind. It takes her a few more tries to get your attention.

“Hey!! Everyone in the 00-04 group chat is confused. I invited someone and they don’t even speak in the group chat. You’re making both of us look weird!” She nudges you, her Americano jostling in her hand. You don’t know how to tell her that you’re terrified to open it after you came to the thought of Jaemin and Jeno on three separate occasions now. You don’t even know them from a can of paint but you’ve imagined them in every possible position. 

“I dunno, it feels awkward.” You speak low and lean a little closer, unnerved by the amount of people looking at the two of you. 

“They’ll love you! They’re already excited to meet you! Especially Jaemin, idiot won’t stop bringing you up.” She mutters the last part, clearly not the biggest fan. You hurriedly sip your latte to hide any suspicious facial expressions. 

“J-Jaemin?” You sputter after swallowing your drink haphazardly. Great going, genius.

“Yeah, ugh. Anyway, if you were in the group chat, you’d know we were planning to go to Switzerland in December. We have a huge chalet booked because we intended for twenty people to come, and we even got twenty multi-day passes for skiing. Long story short, too many people dropped out for comfort so we’re kinda scrambling. Are you interested?” NingNing looks over just in time to catch the twinkle in your eyes. She laughs mischievously as you try to fix your face. You’re not the biggest fan of going somewhere colder for vacation, but any vacation sounds good right now.

“How long are we gonna be there? Did you already buy plane tickets? What day in December should we–”

“My GOD girl! I’m guessing that’s a yes. Since we’re leaving the country we’re thinking two weeks. Is that good?”

You peer over at NingNing, a smile slowly fading in for both of you.

“Tell me more.”

🥀 𐮙 🐻ˋ°•*⁀➷

Michelle link

Michelle Happy to see you’re doing well. Would’ve loved to hear this directly from you but you barely speak to me anymore.

Of all the consequences of you going all in on work, losing your best friend was the hardest one. You didn’t realize you favored texting or calling NingNing about one of your many shared interests over reaching out to your friend until she sent you that. You cautiously click on the chat, knowing that your read receipts are on and you’ll have to answer as a consequence of wanting to know what that link is.

Underground Producer Juliette spotted with aespa’s NingNing Coming From a Coffee Shop. Fans Speculate Over a Possible Solo Project For The Idol

Will that always be your title? How long has it been since you left the underground?

Those were your initial thoughts until this article kept coming back to haunt you. It was shared in three out of four of the group chats you were in. You’re getting more DMs from artists than you ever have (long after you needed them). You, of course, were scolded at work. And you have your first direct message on SCR that isn’t from NingNing or Lindsay.

Na Jaemin Is that you with NingNing in that picture 👀

You immediately ignore the message. Your excitement is simply too great to handle right now. You can’t have him sensing your sins. 

Instead, you finally hazard a glance of the 00-04z group chat.

Zhou Xinyu⓪② Ooouuuu she’s cute :3

Jung Sungchan⓪① how do we even know that’s her

Jung Sungchan⓪① the article says juliette

Choi Beomgyu⓪① tha’ts her stge name dumbass

Huh Yunjin⓪① Learn how to spell b4 calling someone else a dumbass lmaooo

Bae Jinsol⓪④ idk if this is inappropriate to say, y’all will let me know anyway lol but her clothes fit her just right

Park Sohyun⓪② JUST right

Park Sunghoon⓪② oh here cum the lesbians

Park Sohyun⓪② Sunghoon’s just mad Xinyu rejected him for me lolololol

Yoon Sangah⓪② lolololol

Oh Haewon⓪③ lolololol

Shen Quanrui⓪④ lolololol

Kim Sunoo⓪③ lolololol

Park Sunghoon⓪② Sunoo whose side are you on??

Kim Sunoo⓪③ … the gays? tf

Jake Sim⓪② Just saw the pic y’all are talking about… that’s my type haha

Baek Jiheon⓪③ And what is that (,,◕.◕,,)

Jake Sim⓪② Not stick thin😏 I like some meat on the bone

Baek Jiheon⓪③ (ಠ⌣ಠ)

Lee Jeno⓪⓪ Now y’all are speaking my language lol who are we talking about

Zhong Chenle⓪① you never come in here and when you do you refuse to scroll up smh

Everyone reacts in shock to his message, including you. This is your first time seeing his name outside of a search bar. Every time you tell yourself to stop picturing these poor men in indecent situations you feel it more vividly. Jeno’s sweaty chest as he ruts into from behind and Jaemin’s sweaty shoulders under your palms while you take it. I mean… both of them seem somewhat interested… so you can't be that bad, right.

Kim Dayeon⓪③ talking about how you like girls with meat on their bones as if it’s OUR FAULT WE’RE SKINNY. JELLYFISH STRIPPED ME OF MY MEAT.

Jake Sim⓪② Calm down pls T__T I promise I wasn’t dissing skinny girls, I love all women. You’re all beautiful

Jay Park⓪② Damn straight

Kim Dayeon⓪③ Alright then >:(

Baek Jiheon⓪③ I forgive you (♡°▽��♡)

Lee Jeno⓪⓪ Wait, so who’s Juliette 

Lee Jeno⓪⓪ Is she here?

Lee Donghyuck⓪⓪ scroll up farther for god sake

He could scroll up… or you could just…

Hello. Um, you guys are right, my name isn’t Juliette.

… get things started. You properly introduce yourself for the first time in this group chat. Everyone properly introduces themselves, and you find Sohyun, Xinyu, Jinsol, and Jake in your DMs. It’s far too much attention to handle. You feel a little dizzy from all the emotions demanding your attention.

Na Jaemin⓪⓪ Look at my messages;3

“Oh right.” You panic and switch to his DMs, not expecting new messages. 

Na Jaemin So you are as cute

You chew on your lip, feeling as though releasing it would release a whine as well. The heat brewing in your core is intense. You can feel the base of your thighs dampening. It’s like he knows just what to say to drive you crazy.

Na Jaemin I wanna see you

Your breath catches, rereading the word as if it would help you decode it. He couldn’t be asking to meet up so he must mean– Oh…

He’s asking for it.

Na Jaemin Nonononoo lololol I’m sorry, I’m just used to being forward on this app. That was disrespectful. Idk why this app brings it out of me.

No, you’re okay. 

If I’m honest… It does that to me too.

Right about now you would be throwing your phone away, too scared to see his response, but you’re glued to the screen. The typing indicator appears before disappearing. It never comes back. You decide to check the group chat while you wait when you see it.

Lee Jeno⓪⓪ Ah…

Lee Jeno⓪⓪ I know that name. Are you friends with Lindsay?

Lee Jeno⓪⓪ Whatever weird shit she said to you, don't spread it here

Shit. Shit. You were right. God, you should have immediately warned them about the messages she sent to gossip girls. Instead you’re sitting here drooling and implicating yourself. The chat goes from fawning over you to wondering what you and Lindsay did to piss Jeno off. 

You knew it. You knew this was weird and you knew you shouldn’t have gone into that stupid group chat. You already took off those two weeks in December, and you were really looking forward to a getaway where you didn’t have to pay for plane tickets or a place to stay. Did you just blow it? 

Ning Yizhuo⓪② Noooo she’s not close to Lindsay, Lindsay just helped her get this job and helps her out from time to time.

Lee Jeno⓪⓪ Oh yeah, I forgot you were friends with Lindsay too. Keep your mouth shut, too.

Ning Yizhuo⓪② Why are you acting like you don’t know how Lindsay is? She’s eccentric and out of touch. What else do you expect from a billionaire’s daughter?

Lee Jeno⓪⓪ Can she be eccentric to herself?

Ning Yizhuo⓪② You KNOW she can’t do that.

Han Chowon⓪② This is the most I’ve ever seen Jeno active in this gc lol

You want to say something or apologize, but truthfully you don’t know what he’s actually referring to. What if you just implicate yourself further.

Zhou Xinyu⓪② Ugh fuck off Jeno you scared the new girl off

Lee Jeno⓪⓪ And Lindsay scares ME.

Ning Yizhuo⓪② Not enough to stay out of her pants lololol

Lee Jeno⓪⓪ Hey

Lee Jeno⓪⓪ How did you know that?

Nakamura Kazuha⓪③ Omg? So it’s true?

Kim Jiwon⓪④ Oh my god…

Lee Jeno⓪⓪ You see what I mean? Lindsay can’t keep her mouth shut, and neither can her little friends

Oh Haewon⓪③ can you chill tf out

Watanabe Haruto⓪④ …

Watanabe Haruto⓪④ so was she good

Yoon Sanha⓪⓪ I was wondering the same lolol she’s so hot

Na Jaemin⓪⓪ Tooootally dude

You think to yourself if the threesome stuff was actually real but you catch yourself and toss that idea. You think of a way to clear your name without hinting at anything more. 

She does say a lot of weird things but I usually tune her out lol

Or just tell her she’s being weird.

Ning Yizhuo⓪② Yeah Lindsay said something totally weird recently and she messaged me privately to see if I thought it was weird too lol

And we’re not really cool like that, promise

Zhou Xinyu⓪② Oh don’t worry about Jeno, he’s just being a diva

Lee Jeno⓪⓪ Am I though, because they both just said she says weird things too

Oh Haewon⓪③ SHE’S AN ECCENTRIC BILLLIONAIRE!!!

Zhou Xinyu⓪② Eccentric 👏🏻 Billionaire 👏🏻

Yeah, but still. She does give weird vibes, ngl.

Lee Jeno⓪⓪ And she’s a fucking pathological liar

Lee Jeno⓪⓪ Maybe I should start spilling secrets about her, see how she likes it

Huh Yunjin⓪① YES PLEASE GAWD SOME DRAMA

Yoon Keeho⓪① LMAOOOO

Ning Yizhuo⓪② jiFWLBFIEB

You thought maybe Lindsay was just a nuisance to him in a similar way she is to you. But this hints at something maybe a little deeper. 

Maybe for you as well.

The group chat goes dormant after realizing Jeno was bluffing. He tells everyone in the chat they have a gossip problem and disappears. You refresh the homepage mindlessly, frustration prodding at you. You switch over to your DMs. You notice Jaemin finally texted back. 

Na Jaemin Wait so you know Lindsay?

Na Jaemin Oh you guys aren’t close. Well let me know when she’s coming back if she told you. Or if she’s ever coming back. 

Na Jaemin Idk.

Nothing about his texts indicate that he harbors the same feelings for Lindsay. Maybe he and Jeno aren’t as much of a unit as Lindsay made you believe. You stay with these messages, rereading them and feeling a tinge of pity. 

Well, I definitely know she’s coming back because she has a mansion here.

Na Jaemin What?!

Na Jaemin Well I guess she is rich, but I didn’t know that.

Na Jaemin Are you sure you guys aren’t friends?

One thing you know for absolute certain in these trying times is that you don’t want to be confused to be on Lindsay’s side.

Absolutely not, I haven’t spoken to her in around two months or something lol.

Na Jaemin I seeeee

Na Jaemin Anyway, make sure to text me again sooner than that ;3

The only way you can quell the fluttering in your chest is through a girlish squeal paired with you kicking your feet. Should you be guilty about all this if they reached out to you first?

CHAPTER FOURˋ°•*⁀➷

You cross your foot in front of the other to see the outfit in a different pose. You are unfortunately not allowed to wear a costume to SM’s Halloween party, but you can come. And you can dress up a little bit. Not too flashy, they said. You opted for a blouse with a high neckline with short butterfly sleeves that just cut it off from being a tank top. You thought that was too much already, so you paired it with black slacks. A high bun with two pieces to frame your face shouldn’t be flashy.

Whatever, if you get scolded, you’ll drink. If you get scolded for getting drunk, hopefully they’ll fire you. You smooth your hands over the pants slowly, letting that thought simmer.

Yeah, you haven’t considered that. If they fire you, there won’t need to be a lawsuit. You definitely wouldn’t fight it. But is it too soon to go home? You think about your mother and how she’ll nag you. You think about how you have no friends at home anymore. How NingNing would miss you. 

Are you seriously considering this? You can’t. Not after they killed your passion.

No, you need to go forward with this plan. You made a new friend here, you can do it again back home. And your mom will be alright.

Your uber notifies you that it’s outside and you snatch your purse with renewed vigor. 

You’re going to get fired from SM Entertainment.

The dimly lit venue is enough to get you in the partying spirit. Luckily there are enough people here that you shouldn’t be scolded the entire night. You want to be seen on your worst behavior but you don’t want your buzz killed.

You find NingNing who is dressed as Jobu Tupaki. Specifically her goth outfit. You compliment her and give her a hug. You greet Winter who is dressed in Barbie’s cowgirl outfit, Giselle who is Lola Bunny from Space Jam, and lastly Karina who is Disgust.

“Did you guys do a movie theme?” You ask, a little sad looking at their costumes. The FOMO just set in.

“Nah, we’re just that in sync.” Giselle says with a smirk, wrapping her arms around Winter and Karina. Karina brushes her arms away.

“Yes. We did a movie theme.” Karina explains, shaking her head at Giselle and making an expression that fits her character.

There wasn’t much to do but walk around, talk, eat, and drink alcohol. You made sure to get your grief’s worth in alcohol. You drank for all your forgotten projects, for your crushed dreams, and as a fuck you to your manager who threatened to hit you. That memory had the jello shots flying. NingNing found it amusing but her members were a bit worried. Especially after NingNing starts joining “for the bit”.

‘Can you guys stop’ turns into ‘are you guys gonna stop’ before the other three decide to leave before it gets embarrassing. Thankfully you and NingNing were both giggly drunks so you mostly stood by the wall and laughed at everything and nothing. 

“Look. Omg, look, LOOK!” NingNing shouts as she points across the room very overtly. Thankfully who she’s pointing at doesn’t see her do it. There are two men in similar military-esque costumes. Who they’re specifically dressed as, you can’t tell from this distance, but there’s a girl with her back arched and her ass poked out speaking to them. You would say she looks hot but she’s in a slutty schoolgirl outfit. 

“That outfit?” You nudge NingNing before pointing at your mouth and pretending to gag.

“Yeah, and that violates rule number one AND two.”

In your defense, you were drunk, so your brain was a bit laggy. “Rules? Rules to what?” You slur out, slightly stumbling and bumping into her. 

“My bad. Tips, I mean tips. Tip number one and two. Don’t try too hard and don’t dress extra slutty to get their attention.”

Then it clicks. You didn’t even realize who the two men were. Jaemin takes off his sunglasses, revealing the annoyance in his eyes as he folds them into the collar of his jumpsuit. Jeno has his mask pushed up so his bangs are peeking out, looking everywhere but at the nuisance.

Whoever they're supposed to be, they look damn good. Jeno has a vest on and a black shirt rolled up to his elbows. You can see his forearms flex every time he clenches his fist. Jaemin has his jumpsuit rolled up, too. All you can think about is them putting you in a headlock. You roll your eyes back as you giggle blissfully to yourself. 

“Ooh? Was that reaction for them? Are you gonna throw your hat in the ring?” NingNing gets far too excited, leaning forward to get a better glimpse of your face. You push her back against the wall by her head, shaking yours.

“I’m not playing Lindsay’s little game.” The smile slowly fades from your lips, a bitter taste left in its wake. Suddenly, the girl in the schoolgirl costume is getting escorted out of the building. She doesn’t go out without a fight, shouting back at Jeno and Jaemin for ‘a little help’ just to add more embarrassment. 

Just as the situation escalates and she starts screaming like a banshee, something red obscures your vision. You try to maneuver around it but it keeps moving into your vision. You look up in annoyance to see Mr. Myeong. You feel the warmth drain from your body as your annoyance turns to fear. 

“Who said you can look in my eyes, hm?” He says and you immediately look downward. He cuts his eyes at NingNing and tells her to beat it. She does, but not before looking at you like a sad puppy. He starts to scold you about how much you’ve drank and how you’re two seconds from getting kicked out but you can’t focus on that. The rule was a lie, he’s a staff member and he’s wearing a costume. And not just any costume. In perfect comedic fashion, he’s wearing a devil costume.

Maybe it’s because you really wanted to wear a costume and now you’re re-pissed, but you laugh openly at the situation. You sold your soul to the devil, this evil manager is like the devil, and now he’s standing here scolding you in a devil costume. You laugh even harder. 

“Are you– Are you laughing? Have you lost your mind?” He snaps at you before prodding at your forehead with his finger. You immediately stop laughing. He does it a few more times, asking who you think you are and where you learned your manner from. He asks why Americans are so incompetent and why they even hire ‘the likes of you’. 

At that, you grab his finger before he could make a permanent mark on your forehead. 

“You crazy bitch! Let go of me.” He tries to rip it free but you tighten your grip. By now, a few people are watching. This is it. Your chance. You chuckle a little before leaning closer.

“Forgive me for laughing, it’s just…” You lean next to his ear, digging your fingernails into his finger. “How the fuck am I supposed to take you seriously with that ridiculous costume on?”

He finally breaks free, immediately cocking his hand back. That same hand. But this time you just smile and close your eyes. Everyone is looking now. You’ll be free after this. You take the moment to consider your next move. Maybe you’ll stay here and produce freelance. Whatever you do, you’ll surely be kicked out of SM because the minute he slaps you? He’s getting all the pent up frustration from these four months.

“Hey, hey!” You expected someone to notice, but this unfamiliar voice sounded light, conversational. Like he just found his buddy after looking for him at a party. You snap your eyes open after noticing you haven’t been hit.

Jeno is smiling at the manager, his wrist firmly in Jeno’s grip.

“Let me go– What is wrong with you?!”

“Oh my!” Jeno lets go of the man’s hand to cover his mouth and the manager loses his balance. He falls flat on his ass. “I saw the red and thought you were Xiaojun. I’m so sorry, sir!”

“I– You–! Help me up this instant!” His voice booms, but only you flinch. You look up at Jeno who is approaching you. Realize now that he’s Ghost from Call of Duty. And that this is your first time seeing him up close in real life. His friendly smile flickers away to reveal a grimace. For a second you think it’s aimed at you until he speaks. He leans in to speak next to your ear. 

“Are you okay, that asshole didn’t hit you, did he?” His breath hits your ear and gives you goosebumps. All you can do is shake your head. He doesn’t get to lean back before he’s ripped away from you. 

“Hey! You piece of shit! Mind your own business.” 

Jeno doesn’t hide his glare this time, and Jaemin steps in between. 

“I’ll apologize for him, sir.” Jaemin bows ninety degrees, apologizing heartily to the shorter male. As his torso lowers, you catch a glimpse of Jeno grasping his hand tightly. Mr. Myeong bristles at all three of you now. 

“You sons of bitches! I’ll ruin you all!” He turns to you, wagging his finger. The parts of his skin that aren’t covered by the splotchy red paint are rivaling makeup in color. “I’ll ruin you!”

His words curdle the minute they’re introduced to your system. Ruin? 

Will you have a choice in working in Korea?

“Mr. Myeong, that is unnecessary. I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding.” Jaemin outstretches his arms in an attempt to placate but it’s no use. Mr. Myeong just keeps feverishly pointing at you and screaming. 

“You don’t know what she said to me! You weren’t raised to value respect,” Mr. Myeong rolls up his sleeves and a few onlookers gasp, “but I’ll teach you.” He charges forward and swings his hand with more force than last time, closing his fists. You snarl, ready to end all of this. If getting punched by a middle aged man is what it takes to continue producing in Korea, it’s not worth it. You see red, readying your foot and eyeing his crotch.

Unfortunately for him, Jaemin is more focused on blocking the path toward you than stopping Jeno. Jeno presses his two hands to Mr. Myeong’s chest before using all the force his muscular frame can muster to shove the small man to the ground. His body bounces, head knocking against the floor as he slides back far. He's momentarily stunned. Only then does Jaemin switch to stopping Jeno before he pummels Mr. Myeong. His shaking fists are clenched tightly as he tries to shake Jaemin off of him. Jaemin keeps firm on his shoulders and tries to get Jeno to focus on him. It isn’t working.

“Are you going to keep doing this shit? Huh? How long are you gonna keep this shit up?!” Jeno lunges especially hard and nearly slips from Jaemin’s grasp. His words strike you, but you cut your introspection short. This is a mistake you’re only willing to let yourself make. Then suddenly you’re walking over to help Jaemin restrain him.

The security finally intervenes when Mr. Myeong tries to stand back up and stupidly confront Jeno once more. The two of you are having a hard time restraining him right now, if Mr. Myeong had run up? You probably would’ve relented just to get out of the way in time. 

Jeno finally calms as a roaring Mr. Myeong is escorted off the premises, and you finally breathe. You step back from the two men only to be ambushed by four women. 

NingNing stays flanked to your side as everyone recovers from the debacle. Her and her members continually ask if you’re okay, but all you can notice is everyone staring at you. You’re not certain, but you swear you overhear someone’s whisper.

“He said she said something to set him off. I wouldn’t put it past her. She keeps causing trouble.”

There’s a chance you misheard or mistranslated, but your mind already convinced you it made too much sense.

Soon NingNing and her members are carted off by their manager. You watch them make their way to the exit, NingNing saying something to Jeno and pointing at you before Karina urges her to hurry up. You haven’t moved from the wall. Your eyes sink to your legs, knowing whatever is paralyzing you is all in your head.

“Someone made a call or something because there are cameras everywhere out front.”

You hear a male voice closing in followed by another one. 

“That’s okay, we can go out through the back.”

“Do you really think they haven’t thought of that?”

“No one should be leaving through there, they cut it off as a security measure. They might be waiting there now but if we give it a little bit…”

The second voice trailing off made you realize how close they were. You look up to see Jaemin and Jeno for the first time since that mishap. This is when you finally recognize Jaemin’s costume. It’s some bootleg version of a Top Gun jumpsuit. However… you can’t stop yourself from thinking about how he resembles Caleb if you squint. Was this what Lindsey was seeing when decided on that ploy? Was he even meant to be Caleb? You breathe a quick laugh, unable to help yourself.

They’re giving each other a look before Jaemin peers over at you. He gives you a wolfish smile. 

“There’s the smile I remember from the photo.” Jaemin steps to the side, shifting his attention to you. “You had me worried.” He steps forward and leans in and for a second you expect him to ruffle your hair like they do in Love and Deepspace. Man, you’re drunk. You shrug, pursing your lips as you peek over at Jeno. His face is a little more somber, eyeing you intensely like he’s trying to read you. Your smile drops when you meet eyes. 

Lee Jeno⓪⓪ And she’s a fucking pathological liar

Just what else has Lindsay lied about?

“We’re going to head out in maybe,” Jaemin draws out the word as he checks his watch, “thirty minutes? You shouldn’t ride the bus while you’re drunk. We have room since we’re driving ourselves.” Jaemin tilts his head at you. 

“Call?” He asks.

You nod sheepishly, knowing this must have been what NingNing had requested before she left. Jaemin smiles before dropping his head and exhaling through his nose. As he picks his head up you hear him whisper something. 

“Cute.”

You take a quick breath, unable to stop your thighs from clenching together. You widen your eyes as you stiffen up, checking to see if he noticed. You peer over at Jeno as well, your face feeling like it was lit on fire when you catch him staring at your legs.

“I need water.” You say, maneuvering around Jaemin and rushing past Jeno. You walk around looking for something that will stop your head from spinning every time you make a turn. There are no water bottles at the refreshment table and no water fountains in sight. As you go to turn down a dark, empty hallway, something firm and cool taps your shoulder.

You turn to see Jeno holding out a water bottle to you. 

“Where are you going?” He asks you in that same annoyed tone idol managers do. You would get upset if your vision wasn't spinning at the moment. You miss the bottle the first time but manage to grab it the second. All of your brain power goes into getting as much water in your system as possible. The giggly drunkenness is gone. The alcohol is just amplifying what you drank to forget.

When you finish, Jeno reveals the second water bottle, asking wordlessly. You accept it.

🥀 𐮙 🐻ˋ°•*⁀➷

Your sobriety is creeping on too fast to justify the question plaguing your mind. Jeno is driving while Jaemin is in the passenger seat reading Jeno’s texts for him.

“It’s from Dugwan hyung. He wants to see you,” Jaemin looks over, fretful, “like, now.”

Jeno tightens his jaw. 

“‘m not goin’.”

Jaemin sighs. “If you aren’t going, I’m not either.”

Silence drapes uncomfortably over the car and Jaemin throws some music on. Unlike where you work, this venue is pretty far from your home. Thankfully, the car ride carefully takes the knotted thoughts in your head and unweaves them. You stare serenely out the window as soothing R&B plays through the speakers.

“Is this it?” Jeno’s voice jolts you from the edge of sleep. You hum before squinting at the building you’re parked outside of.

“Mm, yeah.” You say, unbuckling your seatbelt. You take a moment to rub your face before thanking the two of them. 

“I’ll walk you up.” Jaemin says, already halfway out the door when Jeno protests. “Stay here then!” Jaemin clicks his tongue before looking Jeno up and down with faux incredulity. He slams the door then, leaving Jeno to groan and glare at you through the rearview mirror. You slowly slip out of your seat, carefully eyeing the annoyed Jeno.

“Which floor?” Jaemin asks after you join him in your building’s elevator. You’re not sure which 'three' applies to this scenario so you guess. Judging by Jaemin’s snort as he presses the button, it was wrong. Today marks the first day anyone has outright laughed at your Korean. You scoff, trying sino this time. He nods approvingly, giving you a thumbs up.

Before the doors can close, a hand slams against one of them and they ease back open. Jeno’s heaving frame is slowly revealed.

He steps on, showing Jaemin his phone. They exchange panicked looks.

“We’re passed that. They told us in 2021–” Jaemin halts when Jeno flicks his hand against his chest and looks toward you. You panic and look away, realizing you’d been staring this whole time.

That suffocating silence is back as the elevator takes three centuries to get to floor three. The walk to your unit is when they can’t seem to hold it in anymore and start whispering to each other. They’re close enough behind that you happen to hear.

“Are they really bringing curfew back?” Jaemin asks.

“No, this is clearly a warning, not a reminder.” 

“And you’re still not going?”

Jeno doesn’t answer. The tone of the unanswered question takes the tension to new heights.

“Then where are we gonna go? Most hotels will either report us to SM or Dispatch.” Despite the frantic nature of Jaemin’s voice, Jeno doesn’t answer yet again. You get to your door and thank the both of them.

“I’ll text you later.” Jaemin tries to channel his wolfish smile again, but it’s strained. It sounds like they can’t even escape being scolded by their boss at their own home.

That’s no home.

“Wait.” The word feels like it’s pulled from you. This is a bad idea. When they turn around, you know it’s too late. At the cost of revealing you were eavesdropping, you give them the option.

“If you guys have nowhere to go, I have a futon. That is, if you guys are willing to squeeze together.”

Jaemin looks touched but ready to decline, while Jeno just outright says it.

“No thanks.” His verbiage is polite, but his tone is derisive. It sounds like they don’t have many options and it’s pretty late. You would kick yourself if you saw something in the tabloids tomorrow.

“If you’re worried I have ulterior motives, I do.” You breathe a sardonic laugh at your own expense. The state of your future at SM is shaky at the moment, so your chances of being uprooted yet again are large. Especially if Mr. Myeong has anything to do with it. You need so many things from so many people, but there’s only one thing you can get from these two.

“Let’s make an exchange. I give you a less stressful place to sleep… and you tell me what Lindsay wants from me.”

Their energies switch at that moment. Jeno’s face softens and though he looks at the floor to hide it, Jaemin’s hardens.

CHAPTER FIVEˋ°•*⁀➷

You sigh wistfully as you retrieve the last two butter waffles from the box. Opening your lunchbox to one of these is the only thing you look forward to at work, but you just had to ask if they wanted a snack.

You don’t invite NingNing to yours for a reason. Your studio is a feng shui nightmare. Now you have your first guests ever sleeping parallel to you because it’s the only way the futon would fit. You’re conflicted as you deliver the snacks, it seemed like a good idea when the futon was folded up. Seeing it now, you know not to ever call yourself an interior designer.

You squeeze between the futon and the wall to sit them on your Pororo side table you got on sale.

“It's not you.” Jeno says, sipping the water you also asked if they wanted. You initially think he’s telling you not to blame yourself. Jaemin pats the space next to him with a small smile. You sigh as you sit down, preemptively taking Jeno’s advice.

“It’s not any of us. I don’t think there’s a single person on the face of the planet Lindsay cares about other than herself.” He reaches over Jaemin and sets his glass on the table. “Every little thing she does serves a bigger goal that serves an ever bigger goal.”

“What the hell is it, then? What does me working with SM have to do with her goals?” You ask incredulously.

“The question you should be asking is why they were so adamant to hire you.”

Yeah, you know that. That’s one of the questions you want answered but know they can’t—

Or can they?

“They were adamant to hire me?”

“… I’m not sure why you’re asking me like you don’t know.” Jeno creates friction again when you're simply trying to get answers. Jaemin gently takes over.

“We all know, if that’s what you’re wondering. All the idols under SM, I mean.” Jaemin laughs after explaining this, but you know that it’s at this insane situation. “I don’t know when they made the decision, but I know Lindsay and her gambling had something to do with it. You guys are one of us now.”

Jeno chuts at the situation. “How is that slave contract treating you?”

“D-did Rouge… Was he the problem? Lindsay said he couldn’t get dearALICE a song that audiences liked.”

“DJ Rouge…?” Jeno asks in disbelief. “DJ Rouge is one of the best producers in the country.”

The corner of Jaemin’s mouth twitches, his look of concern growing stronger. 

“He composed and produced Juliette.” Jeno continues.

The silence overtaking the room strengthens the fuzziness in your brain. You jump to rationalize something, anything.

“Then why was he kicked off dearALICE’s mini album? They scrapped everything he worked on.”

“I don’t know anything about dearALICE, but SM would never kick Rouge out. Not in a million years.”

You grit your teeth, failing to find any other conclusions than the one so painfully obvious.

“He left on his own…” You whisper pitifully.

“I overheard that he wanted more money and demanded they respect his worth. SM denied and now we’re here.” Jeno explains.

“Okay, so I took his place? I don’t understand why they didn’t say that. Is it because they were embarrassed?”

“You have to understand. You didn’t replace Rouge because no one could replace Rouge. You guys have schedules and salaries and staff meetings. Rouge showed up when he wanted and got a percentage of the song’s royalties on top of the up front payment.” Jeno just keeps showering you in painful discoveries with little to no sugarcoating. Jaemin steps in again.

“Don't take this the wrong way but… I was honestly surprised you didn’t live in a dorm. Well, at least starting out like we did.”

You exhale deeply and place your face into your hands.

“I get paid pretty well. It’s not like I’m getting shafted. And yeah, I don’t live in a dorm. So, what? Why are we talking about this when I asked about Lindsay.”

The somber looks on their faces tell you you're about to get exactly what you're asking for.

“When we first met Lindsay, she was super curious about idol life. It wasn’t weird because everyone was. But then she started asking questions like if we were penalized less and had more freedom, would we work as hard. I was honest because I was still in denial. I said no.” Jeno adds, sounding careful for the first time that evening.

Your mouth moves as soon as the information shocks your system.

“Okay? So they lit a fire under our asses—”

“Lindsay doesn’t really see people as people.” Jeno explains slowly as his mouth contorts into a forced smile. “You’re either a tool or a plaything.”

🥀 𐮙 🐻ˋ°•*⁀➷

The glasses of water wobble dangerously as you and Jaemin jostle around on the bed. Your laughing crescendos until the sound runs out and you’re both curling over with your jaws dropped open. Jaemin’s laugh taps back in as he rockets backwards, his beer sloshing and spilling a little on Jeno. 

“Hey!” Jeno shouts, not as aggressively drunk, but turning pinkish on his cheeks and the tips of his ears anyway. Inebriation tugs at your eyelids as fatigue rolls through you. You whine in protest, but your blood alcohol content persists.

“How can she–” You curl your chin in as you hiccup before continuing. “She knew you guys since you were all teens and she still did that shit?” You present the beer to them in a vain quest to make sense of all this. 

“You weren’t listening.” The slurring of Jeno’s words is strengthening as he pushes against the bed to sit up straight. He just ends up curving back over, stretching his spine like his head is too heavy. The two men speak at the same time, probably expecting they were thinking the same thing. 

“She doesn’t view us as human.”

“She has a gambling addiction.”

They both look at each other in betrayal. Jaemin upset at Jeno’s perceived lack of context and Jeno at Jaemin’s leniency with Lindsay. Jeno musters up all the coherence he can to drive home this point. 

“Lindsay didn’t care about us long before the gambling.”

“Yeah, but before the gambling we had fun with each other.”

“She spread rumors about you before she even met you.”

“Yeah, exactly. She didn’t know me, so she had the wrong idea.”

“Did she have the wrong idea about Seulgi, too? The first person to introduce her to all the idols she used?”

Jaemin lets out a loud, fake laugh, avoiding Jeno’s questions. 

“O-or what about Victoria? Sejeong? And what’s your excuse for her posting–”

“Okay! I get it!” Jaemin’s voice booms louder than it seems he intended. He giggles to himself as you and Jeno both gawk at him, drunkenness outshined by confusion. Jaemin shakes his head before waving his free hand. 

“Put something on the TV.”

You scramble to do exactly that, eager to escape this tension. You throw on a random movie you had in your watch list. You turn off the light, full of remorse as you watch them strain their necks to the left to watch it. Jeno peers at you and you smile lazily. Your current state disables the humiliation that should come after Jeno’s confused look. 

“You forgot the subtitles.”

You gasp quietly, a drawn out ‘oh’ seeping from your lips as you hurriedly grab the remote and put on the Korean subtitles. Jaemin pats the bed again, but this time he’s patting the space that suddenly appeared between him and Jeno. That’s when you notice Jaemin is pressed firmly against the arm rest, distancing himself as much as he can.

You shake your head, ceasing the expecting looks from the both of them. Jaemin puts on exaggerated puppy eyes instead, poking out his lip as he pats the space.

“I don’t want to make you guys uncomfortable.” You peer at Jeno, the only one you actually presume will be uncomfortable. “We’re still strangers, after all.” You say as your eyes return to Jaemin. Under the minimal shifting light of the TV, Jaemin’s impish smile has a stronger effect. You hurry to your previous position, sitting at the edge of the bed closest to the wall. You make a mental note to somehow turn the futon toward the TV after they leave in the morning.

You feel someone on the bed shifting until Jaemin’s knees swing off the bed so he’s seated right next to you. You initially think this is his compromise until he hooks one arm under your knees and the other around your waist. You ground yourself, half expecting him to carry you bridal style. Instead, he pulls your legs up onto the bed. His hand sears against your leg just like in your dream. You look up at him, your drunken stupor convincing you that he can read your mind. He stares back intensely, making heat bubble behind your cheeks and in your crotch. Your eyes drop down to his costume, the collar dipping just low enough that it turns your mouth dry. His teeth nip at his bottom lip as he hoists you against the back of the futon. His eyes linger on you, expression solemn besides the intensity in his eyes. As he slips his hands from under and behind you, he takes his time, grazing your skin. His middle digit slips under your t-shirt, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

Once he is fully retracted from you, his face softens, that recognizable smile warming his features. 

“See? Totally comfortable.” And just like that, Jaemin eases the (admittedly delicious) tension with random English. Your attempt to hide your laugh fails as it bursts through your tightly closed lips. Jaemin laughs as well, shoulder bumping against yours as you both keel over. You slip your legs under the blanket and that’s when reality hits you again. You’re unsure why you flinch, but in doing so, you brush against Jeno’s leg under the blanket. Your head whips to look at him, a little fear in your soul when you see he’s looking back. 

Your heart is distracting, thumping against your ribcage with reckless abandon. With sudden ruckus from the TV, you’re momentarily spared. Everything is still and quiet, Jeno and Jaemin stiff on either side of you. It would almost be peaceful if it weren’t for the loud moans and bed squeaking coming from the TV.

A few weeks ago with one hand in your pants, you looked up movies on Netflix with good sex scenes. You flooded your already bloated watch list with them and well? One of them was playing on your TV while you’re sandwiched in between two men. Two men who you habitually fantasize about. And that listicle was right. This is a damn good sex scene.

Your problem is still a problem. Nothing’s changed and you still haven’t been laid. You swallow the saliva building in your mouth as pleasure churns prominently in your abdomen. It churns and churns until it spills into your core. You bite your lip, trying to discreetly lessen the ache. As your thighs push together, you feel eyes burning into the back of your head. Your stomach drops. 

You slowly peek at Jeno who is looking straight at your crotch, just like earlier this evening. He looks at you through his lashes with something akin to disappointment in his eyes. You swear you see him slightly shake his head, but you chalk it up to the bad lighting. 

“Did you see that?” Jaemin’s hand landing on your thigh nearly sends you to the moon. He forces your eyes away from Jeno to stare at him like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. But when you look at him, he’s watching the TV as he rewinds the movie, extending this torture. He presses play and keeps his hand pointed to it as he waits for the portion in question. You’re watching now as the actors simulate the increase in pace, the man gaining a steady rhythm. That’s when he reaches back, gliding his hand up her thigh to her knee before licking his tongue into her open mouth. You gasp in tandem with the actress, feeling like you can feel it all. You fist the blanket over your thighs.

“I saw an interview with the actress and she said that wasn’t what they practiced. Her reaction was authentic.” Jaemin sets the remote down on the table before looking at you. “They’re dating now.”

“No way.” You reply breathlessly. You were partially shocked by the information, but you’re still distracted by the seemingly never ending sex scene. “B-because of that? He just grabbed her leg.”

“You don’t think that could do it?”

“I mean, it worked for the scene, but that doesn’t automatically mean he’s good–”

Jaemin tosses the blanket aside to straddle you. You try to squeeze your legs together to keep them from touching his, but it’s an impossible task. You hear Jeno groan dramatically beside you. Jaemin leans forward and rests his hands on each side of your head. In doing so, a dog tag swings out from under his jumpsuit and sways over your face. Your eyes cross as they follow it like you’re about to get hypnotized.

“Wanna see?”

You uncross your eyes and look up at him, mouth hung open dumbly. Your hips answer for you, buck up against his. He hums approvingly before lifting one knee to nudge your leg over before doing the same on the other side. His hand is already as your hip, gripping roughly before moving it up your leg. His hand snags on your pajama shorts before they snap away and his hand burns into your skin. Your mouth parts open with a silent inhale and he takes the opportunity.

“He didn’t just grab her leg.” He whispers as he dips his head until your noses are touching. His hand completes its journey, cupping your knee.

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” Jeno grits to your right. You’re too entranced to react, but Jaemin peers over at him. He looks back at you before licking into your mouth. Your hips lurch forward as you taste him. Beer with a hint of mint. You want so desperately to get drunk off it. You shove forward, messily closing the distance to initiate what can barely be called a kiss. Your tongues wrestle and swirl around each other only to result in a lip-smacking smooch sometimes that makes you buck every time. He starts bucking back, too. His bulge becoming more prominent. He whimpers into your mouth, lips parting with only a thick string of saliva connecting you two. He hand moves back down to cup your ass before squeezing it like he never plans to let go. He peers over at Jeno whose jaw is clenched.

You moan pitifully, only barely getting your request in between sloppy kisses. 

“F-fuck me!” You beg emphatically, your body igniting at the possibility. He squeezes your ass again, pulling away to bite his lip and look down at you.

“Fuck yeah.” He grinds his hips down into you, his bulge pressing deliciously against your mound. Your loud moan is shameful but you are completely shameless. This is it. It’s finally happening, in the most dangerous way possible. Now this is a scandal that would turn the company upside down. It’s exciting.

“You two are fucking embarrassing.” Jeno grunts as pushes up and off the bed, climbing over the two of you to do it. He stomps into the bathroom before slamming the door. Jaemin’s attention is ripped from you as he stares toward the bathroom door. You bite his bottom lip, drawing it back in a vain attempt to get him to continue. The second you let go, he’s also pushing off the bed and going into the bathroom. 

There is muffled arguing behind the door, but all you can think about is the uncomfortable puddle in your underwear. You collapse back onto the bed, giving up on waiting for Jaemin to come back and continue. Lindsay lied about a lot, but you’re ashamed of the observation you’re making that proves her right. 

Jeno and Jaemin might just be a package deal.

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! `⎚⩊⎚´ -✧

◉ proofread cycle 1 ⃝ proofread cycle 2

taglist: @nanajaemsblog @taestrwbrry @oonyourmmark @jaehyunsmilitarywivesclub @neogotmysam @bluedbliss @cutiepatootiejungwon @emalvar1404 @fancypeacepersona

[luigilore]

scott street- l.m

It's been four years since you've last seen Luigi. You run into him and things have changed...

(a/n: huge thank you to this anon for changing lives with this idea! this is a part two to my fic lovefool <3 i wrote this in one sitting so... lmk if u want another happier ending lol... also ofc the title is from the phoebe bridgers song, 1.2k wc)

At first, you don't recognize him.

But it's hard not to. Luigi doesn't look that different. Older, more mature, hair a bit shorter and face a bit thinner— but he still looks like himself. He still looks like your Luigi.

You don't know what to do. It would be easiest to duck through the isles of the quaint bookstore you're in. A hole in the wall that you discovered with Luigi years ago. Strolling the streets hand and hand and wandering into different stores. You would spend hours here together, laughing at niche books you discovered together. He would always look at you with so much love that it was obvious and it almost embarrassed you, you knew he always loved when you let yourself have a break like this.

You always loved this bookstore— that’s why you’re here now; desperate for a reprieve from real life, from your sterile apartment and the infinite grind of rehearsals. 

But this is no reprieve, Luigi is in front of you, years after you broke up for the final time, since the last time you've seen him; wearing a gold wedding band and gently bouncing a baby against his chest. 

Even though you knew he was still in the city, you never expected to see Luigi again. You lived entirely different lives and that’s why it didn’t work in the first place. After months and months of letting him fuck you, hold you, even though you weren't together anymore, you knew you finally had to end whatever you had with Luigi.

It was eating away at you jeopardizing your career, hurting you. When you pushed him away for the last time, you always secretly hoped he would contact you somehow, show up at your apartment, and fight for your love and relationship like he always so fervently had. But Luigi respected your decision, your tear stained cheeks and heaving chest as you tell him We have to stop.

And so he does.

And you do too. You throw yourself back into ballet entirely and Luigi becomes a distant memory, something, someone, you felt lucky to experience but you knew you never truly deserved or could preserve. 

Now, you internally debate speaking to him or pretending you didn't see him but Luigi makes the decision for you, meeting your eyes as recognition and love flashing across his face with a smile; calling your name in a way you haven't heard in years.

You're both not that much older now, not even four years had passed but it felt like an entirely different lifetime.  

“Wow, it’s great to see you,” Luigi says with a smile and you try to find the right words and can’t. "You look great," he continues as his attention is drawn away from you to his child, gurgling and making Luigi smile and shift him in his strong arms.

"Who's this?" You ask weakly and he grins proudly, "Nicholas, he’s seven months.”

The baby looks like Luigi in a very unfair way, dark eyes and tufts of hair. Actually, the entire interaction feels unfair. You feel like you've had the wind knocked out of you. You try to smile at his baby's sweet laugh and chubby arm leaving his father's chest to reach out to you.

“We’re trying to read to him early,” Luigi explains, like he has to defend why he’s here of all places. 

The offhanded mention of We, the implication of his wife, makes you swallow thickly and try to think of any excuse to get out of the conversation. It feels like every lingering doubt, every insecurity you've felt since you broke up for good, is bubbling to the surface in an overwhelming and consuming and devastating way.

"He's precious," you manage to get out, because it's true. "He looks like you," you finish, partly fishing for any small talk you can muster and also because Nicholas truly does. Luigi just smiles proudly, "Yeah, that’s what everyone says."

He asks how you’ve been and you feel embarrassed even though you can list accomplishment after accomplishment in your career. He asks about the current performance, and says he saw something about the Swan Lake show online. It makes you wonder if he ever thinks about you, if you ever randomly cross his mind. 

You say you’re okay- because that’s the truth and he smiles a bit sadly and you both stand there a bit in silence. Like there's something to say but neither of you can quite grasp. You feel like an intruder, intruding on Luigi and his baby- his family. You wonder where his wife is, who she is. 

“I’m glad you’re doing well, ___,” He says eventually. “Really.” 

“Thanks,” you say meekly and feel entirely overwhelmed.

"Don't be a stranger," he says suddenly, breaking the thick the silence that seems to inherently envelope the two of you. You just smile and nod, knowing that neither of you actually expect to stay in touch. You only say goodbye and wonder if Luigi felt similarly affected.

You can't help but turn around one last time to watch him leave. But you only catch his eye again as he turns your way too. Luigi looks a bit embarrassed, like he was caught and turns away for the final time.

-

When you get back to your dark apartment, you can't find the energy to make dinner or even start the dishwasher. You dazedly curl into yourself in bed, thinking about what could have, should have, been. You never find yourself missing what you don't have but Luigi was always able to instill in you something you'd never felt before.

Maybe it's a bit self assured to think that if you hadn't finally cut him off, you would eventually have a family. Or maybe that was never possible between the two of you.

But then you think about the way you and Luigi would so often talk about children when you were together, filling your head with thoughts of an incredibly wholesome future together and making your heart unfairly twist in excitement and want. He’d always inevitably ask you in a quieter voice if you think he’d be a good dad. And you always told him yes between sweet kisses to his jaw. 

You don't remember falling asleep and wake up to your daily 5 am alarm for rehearsal; still in your clothes from yesterday, mascara smeared underneath your eyes from silent tears. You wipe your face a bit roughly, staring at your tired, bleary eyes in the mirror and start getting ready for the day.

[adidastain]

bad decisions

1996 serj tankian x fem reader (y/n)

warnings: a little smutty (cockwarming)

notes: all lowercase, first person perspective (I, me, my, etc.)

word count: 2893

—

long-time best friends, adrenaline, and freezing temperatures create the perfect recipe for poor decision-making.

thank god his place was only 4 blocks away from the venue.

“i don’t believe in global warming anymore.” his trembling voice carried easily in the cold, breezeless air. serj cursed under his breath through gritted and chattering teeth.

i scoffed. “we’re almost there,” i said, equally as trembly. it wasn’t this fucking cold when we left, 4 hours ago. now everything was covered in a thin layer of frost, and if we hadn’t kept moving, we might’ve been too.

serj didn’t have his own car and i didn’t have my license, so we were forced to walk a measly 4 blocks to the local niche concert venue, which really doesn’t seem like much of a trek. now try walking 4 blocks home in below freezing temperatures. we’d met some friends at the concert and had a pretty good time, but failed to account for the fact that it was past 12 AM by the time it was over, nonetheless in the middle of january. and of course, like the geniuses we were, we’d left before we could catch a ride.

“why didn’t we get a taxi?” i asked rhetorically, letting go of a heavy sigh that i could see in the form of a thin cloud in front of me as it escaped my lips.

“we don’t have any cash,” he laughed. he paused his steps for a brief moment to dig in his pockets. “right?”

“right,” i shivered. “genius, aren’t we?”

serj smiled at my joke. “genius enough to decide to walk home instead of getting a ride. remarkable.”

i playfully punched his arm. “seriously though,” he continued. “global warming my ass.”

“it’s midnight in mid-january, serj. i don’t know what to tell you,” i smiled, now walking backwards in front of him.

“yeah, in southern california. you would think it never gets this cold. my dick is fucking shrinking, y/n.”

i snorted and scrunched up my nose. for some reason, that was always my reaction when he said my name like that. i wasn’t sure if it was his tone, his accent, or something else.

we finally landed on his doorstep and i waited patiently behind him as his trembling hands frantically fumbled with the keys while trying to unlock the front door. serj then dropped said keys and i laughed at him.

“you try unlocking your front door when you can’t feel your fingers,” he playfully hissed at me while i picked up his keyring for him.

eventually we made it inside. it was warmer but not very much. the air was calmer though, we were in our safe bubble.

i flopped onto his couch while serj set his keys on the kitchen counter and winced. “my dick is fucking frozen,” he whined while running his fingers through his long, curly hair. i sat up and smiled at him, watching him pull his hair back into a ponytail.

“why don’t you grow out a beard, keep your face warm,” i suggested, standing back up and stepping towards him. “you already have a little bit of pedo stubble.” i laughed as he swatted my hand away from scratching his chin.

“did you know that thinking about sex can make your facial hair grow faster?” he changed the subject.

“you must not think about sex very often,” i teased, trying to hide my smirk.

serj rolled his eyes, palming my face and pushing me away. i hated it when he did that and he knew it. “rude,” i scoffed, following him to his bedroom.

“er, excuse me, love. i’ll be changing in here now,” he said in a godawful attempt at a british accent, stopping me at the doorway. i flicked his forehead out of revenge and he snorted before closing the door in my face. “your british accent is proper rubbish.” i yelled, in a much better british accent. “won’t survive the islands with that lump o’ shite up yer sleeve, mate.” i then said in a scottish accent.

he cracked open his door, showing just his face and bare shoulder. serj glared at me as if he had something to say, but i spoke before him, saying, “you might want to try studying foreign films if you plan to travel around the world in that band of yours,” in a german accent.

he glared for another moment or two before rolling his eyes and chuckling slightly and muttering, “you’re such a showoff.” he once again slammed the door in my face.

a few minutes later, he came back out in pajamas. flannel pants and a big, grey pullover hoodie. oh, and the star of the show, his signature scooby doo socks.

i’d helped myself to some oreos and was sitting on his sofa before he sat next to me and grabbed the TV remote. i held in a laugh as he shivered again.

“jesus christ I’M STILL FUCKING COLD,” he groaned, throwing his head back.

“dick still frozen?” i asked.

“yes.” he sighed, looking at me with a pouting lip.

i held in a laugh and looked him up and down as his head fell back again. i don’t know if it was his clothes, his now exposed neck, his gorgeous hair, or the idea of cockwarming itself, but he looked good. really fucking good.

very few moments went by before i gently took the remote from him and asked, “want me to warm you up?”

his head snapped up and he stared at me. his eyes were wide and a disbelieving smirk crept up his cheek. “excuse me?” he laughed sheepishly.

i’d meant it. now i was embarrassed and i felt stupid.

“do you want me to help you with… that?” i asked again, quickly glancing at his crotch to reference his frozen dick.

“wh- i- how?” he stammered.

then i felt really fucking stupid. why did i ask him that? what the fuck was i thinking?

i moved barely an inch closer to him after setting the remote back onto the coffee table and stared him dead in the eyes. my voice shrunk and i said, “i could just sit on you.”

a quiet moment was shared before he broke into a laugh and broke our eye contact. he looked around at seemingly nothing and bit on the tip of his finger, before pinching the bridge of his nose and laughing some more.

“why not?” he sighed, opening up the space in his lap for me to sit like a fucking hen on a newly laid egg.

i slid carefully into his lap, every single muscle in my body locked in a tense state. he avoided eye contact as i adjusted my position and rested my hands on his shoulders to stabilize myself.

i then became fully aware of his scent as it flooded my nostrils when i got that close to him. a soft blend of cigarettes, fresh laundry, and whatever cologne-y scented shampoo or body wash he used. my body relaxed and i allowed my weight to settle on his hips.

his hands rested in the pockets of his hoodie and he sat with his head rested back and his eyes closed. his broad chest rose and fell softly but swiftly.

“where’d you get this hoodie?” i asked softly, desperately attempting to break the silence. i was ruining our friendship more and more with each passing second.

…but i kind of wanted to ruin it.

i always thought serj was really intelligent and had a great sense of humor, and i could never understand why more girls didn’t want him. in the past 7 years of knowing him he’d only been through two real relationships, and barely any smaller, less serious flings. i myself had been in and out of relationships and such, but serj and i worked so well together as friends that it was hard to imagine being anything else with him.

“goodwill,” he exhaled. “3 bucks.” serj smiled, keeping his eyes closed. i could feel him relax a bit underneath me. i smiled too and let out a soft laugh through my nose.

“do you feel any warmer?” i asked, even lower than before.

a short few moments passed by before he shook his head and answered “not really.”

in response, i adjusted my position again, earning an unexpected reaction from him. his breath hitched and he briefly opened his eyes as i seemingly hit a nerve or something. his body tensed up again and his breathing grew deeper.

i soon understood why. i squirmed slightly for the billionth time, but felt a little something poking up against me.

every single ounce of my confidence rushed back into me and a devilish smirk came upon my face.

“what’s got you so excited?” i teased.

finally he looked at me again. his cheeks were red and he swallowed hard. we both broke into a blushing laugh and he rubbed his face with his palms.

he threw his hands outward and let his arms fall defeatedly. “you’re sitting on my dick, y/n, what do you expect? it feels good,” he argued.

my heart leaped. why was i so fucking excited about this? i was making him feel good and that was more fucking empowering than any chic flick i’d ever seen.

“it feels good? want me to grind on ya a little bit? like this?” i teased him, biting my lip. i started gently rolling my hips back and forth against his and held his shoulders to stabilize myself.

“NO! no, no, oh my god, fuck, don’t do that,” he whined, covering his face with his hands as he threw his head back again. his breathing was almost rapid and he was forcing himself to inhale and exhale deeply.

i stopped moving, but left my hands on his shoulders. i watched with a contented smile as his breathing became steadier.

“serj~” i said softly, letting my hands fall to his chest so i could feel his heartbeat. it was racing.

he took a deep breath and mustered up enough strength to look at me again. he looked tired, but his eyes were doe-y and somewhat anxious. he was blushing hard and he felt really warm now.

i took a long look at his face, glancing between his eyes, his nose, his lips, his freckles. i bit my lip and leaned in slightly closer.

“i wanna make a bad decision…” i whispered, fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie and staring at his lips and into his eyes.

“you already made a bad decision, y/n.” he stated, his voice deeper and softer than it previously had been.

butterflies exploded in my stomach and we stared at each other for another few, long moments. i planted my palm in his sternum and slowly leaned in, laying my lips between his.

both of our hearts were now racing respectively, and i grew lightheaded from holding my breath before we pulled away naturally, slowly.

we looked at each other for a moment, seeing how the other was reacting to what just happened. his eyes danced around my face and his lips slacked open, breathing deeply despite his racing heartrate.

i brought a hand up to softly caress his neck, and we kissed again. his lips were wet and soft and the kiss was a little on the slower side. i could feel each of his breaths cover my face as his nose brushed against my cheek. i could have sworn that i felt him grow harder each second.

every ounce of strength that was left in my body instantly vanished as i felt his hand slide gently up my thigh. i softly whimpered into our kiss and pulled away for a moment. “your hands are cold,” i giggled, out of breath.

serj smiled at me and looked down. “sorry,” he laughed.

“it’s okay.” i gently tilted his sweet head back up to face mine and kissed him again. my hand caressed his stubbly cheek and i felt his other cold hand gently graze my jaw.

he opened his mouth and licked my lips briefly. i gasped and pulled his head closer to me so i could slide my tongue into his mouth to meet his.

i adjusted my position again and he immediately let go of the kiss, letting out a low, quiet moan against my lips. “careful~” he warned with a smile as he resumed the kiss.

his hand inched closer to my hips and i let it. his hands were huge and fit perfectly on my bony hips. i felt his entire palm rest against my right hip before his thumb slid under my pants to gently stroke the outside of my underwear.

i whimpered his name and pressed myself harder against his hand and his crotch, deepening the kiss even further. my underwear was beyond soaked but i didn’t even care.

i decided to deliver some karma and let my hands sink below his chest and slip up under his shirt. i placed my hands on his warm skin of his abdomen, which immediately tensed up at my touch. his skin was smooth and i could feel a bit of hair in the center of his body moving lower. my thumb brushed over his belly button and my palms were soon met with the elastic waistband of his pants.

before i could get to work on those, he pulled away and stopped me. “wait,” he said.

i looked at him, worry building up inside me.

his hands moved to gently hold my waist and he softly asked, “what are we after this, y/n?”

i stared into his eyes, at a loss for words. i pulled my hands out from under his shirt and hoodie and rested them in our laps, fidgeting with my fingers. “i-” i started, not really knowing where i was going to go with it after the fact. “i don’t know…”

now i felt stupid again. i only got the idea as a joke, i didn’t expect it to turn into this. but i liked it, and it seems like he did too. but we couldn’t go back to what we were, our friendship was ruined.

“...pretend it never happened?” he suggested, sounding just as uncertain as me.

i shook my head, lowering it in shame. it was such a stupid idea.

serj noticed my defeated state and gently held my face. “hey,” he said softly. i looked at him with a shame-ridden face, but quickly moved my eyes away from his. his thumb stroked my cheek and he gave me a small smile. “y/n~” he sang. “look at me.”

i scoffed and looked at him. he grinned and nudged my nose with his.

“listen, no matter what we end up being, you’re still my best friend, okay? maybe we can talk about it tomorrow over- well, later today, i guess. over breakfast. i think we should sleep on it, does that sound good?” he said softly.

his little stutter was so fucking adorable, i could barely contain my grin. i nodded and pressed my forehead against his.

“good,” he whispered. a moment or two passed before he held my face with both hands and softly said, “i love you, y/n. in every way.”

i smiled wide and wrapped my arms around his neck. “i love you too, serj,” i whispered.

he grinned, dear god. his smile had never hit me so hard as it did in that moment. “one more kiss?” he offered, his voice risen in pitch with his eyebrows raised and a sheepish grin.

i nodded, and we leaned in again. it was soft, slow, but not too deep, and a little on the shorter side. it was perfect.

“get some sleep, y/n,” he told me as we pulled away and i stood up from his lap. i nodded again, completely out of words. the only thing i managed to come up with was a simple, but sweet, “good night, serj.”

he gently grabbed my hands, softly kissing each of my fingers while looking up at me. “good night, y/n,” he said, before pausing for a brief moment. he then continued and whispered;

“i don’t regret anything.”

[sinkswims]

hi hi! for those who remember me… i’m back 🤭. life took a crazy turn so i needed to take a break but i’m back with sodapop’s manager one, doh kijung ( lee dohyun, ‘95 liner ). formatted on mobile for now, so pls excuse the mess. please give this a ( *twice vc* ) heart-heart if you’d like to plot !!

sparknotes ver.

high school swimming prodigy whose career was cut short after a knee injury. had to rediscover himself in his early twenties after building his entire sense of self around swimming—still in the process of finding himself but has ended up at ydh entertainment after jumping from industry to industry. golden retriever with a heart of gold, prone to making lame jokes but also strict enough to put his foot down when needed.

other info, some of which is not included in his backstory.

a talent agent attempted to scout him when he was 16, but failed to #ballislife. up until his mid-twenties, he was mistaken as an idol/idol trainee at times just due to his looks and how he carried himself—not so much anymore now that he’s almost 30…

the eldest son with two younger sisters. total mama’s boy—in part due to the fact that dad was absent often due to the long hours spent at his corporate job. lived in seoul his entire life—he may have gone abroad for brief stints in his youth for junior olympic/international swim training programs, but otherwise has barely stepped foot off the korean peninsula—at least until accompanying sodapop on their tour.

distinctly middle class—his parents would have to cut corners to make end meets and take out loans to fund his expensive swimming career and injury rehabilitation. also due to his injury, he was exempt from military service. nowadays, it’s mostly a situation where his knee hurts when it rains, or after days with long schedules.

bi, but would likely identify with demi/gray asexuality if he cared to label himself. in high school, he would have girlfriends (mostly for appearance purposes, though he did not realize at the time) and most of them would break up with him because “all he cared about was swimming”. started dating men in addition to women in college, but it eventually tapered off when he started working, at which point “all he cared about was his career”. his lack of dating interest could be yet another a reason why ydh tapped him for idol management.

the type of charmer that can seem insincere at first—until you realize how sincere he actually is. definitely overplays the cheese and dad jokes at times—is the type to laugh at his own jokes and if someone else only groans at them, that just adds to his own amusement. racks up favors mostly by being a considerate person, plays everything by ear, but is often able to charm without delving into flirting territory, which often works in his favor. a people person fr fr

wanted plots.

his work husband is fellow sodapop staff rihan, but work wife?

someone who knew him in high school! i would love for someone to have gone to the same school as him and has firsthand knowledge of how good he was as a student athlete, but they could have also known each other through mutual friends.

want to keep this list relatively short for realism, but exes. since starting at ydh, kijung does not date talent, so if your muse is an idol it should have been before kijung or your muse worked in the entertainment industry (on kijung’s end, this would have been 5+ years ago). i imagined most of kijung’s relationships would have fizzled out due to a lack of passion, especially on kijung’s end, but i’m open to something that ended more messily or “the one that got away” if the personalities fit.

former coworkers. i kept kijung’s work history vague on purpose (aside from a restaurant manager job) but whether it was a part-time convenience store gig in high school, some internship in college, or anything before kijung ended up at ydh… idk this is rlly niche but it could be fun!

sodapop come here…

idols apart from sodapop where kijung suddenly ended up in your muses’ support network. we could develop a plot down the line where kijung learns smth that could impact your muse’s career and may or may not decide to keep it from the company—situation and plotting dependent !

friends! drinks after work, hang out outside of schedules, go hiking together etc etc. especially but not limited to industry staff 😌

[madfantasy]

To fan art and fiction enjoyers:

Please excuse my rage slipping if it happened over having to address this literal mediocrity of a subject in comparison to endless things that actually matters in real life. Because this would be at the scrapping bottom of it, but since the occasion presented itself, here we are:

Do you know there are some, let's say, manners, being in fandoms, and/or in using social media in general? NOOO? 8U

Well, Lets start somewhere!

Like it or not, YOU NEED TO ACTUALLY READ STUFF PEOPLE WRITE. Before you follow, before you comment, before you interact, because if you come across something you don't like, or you started to assume things— that's a you problem and not the fault of the poster.

If you DO NOT enjoy a character, a pair of ship, or a certain head cannon, filter the tag it's used for, Google has free tutorials on how. Most social media have these settings and most decent posters tag their posts correctly. If you keep seeing that pair, you can block the people who create it. You are free to do so ofc but WHY WOULD U come on main and air that out? Personally I find it so bizarre and it could show the type of person you are to other people — a toxic company over fictional substance — and I'd say that is not a flex, more like showing your dirty nappy in public. Those characters you love are not real and so not effected by your high ground stance, but actual humans that share you that love notice and get that impression, and it's a weird one. You SHOULD, of course, set your boundaries, and usually where that is be in your profile, on your bio or a pinned post.

Loving bizarre, villainous, creepy concepts DOES NOT EQUAL morality, nor loving good sunshine and flowers does. It's what a person does in real life what counts, not what they consume in entertainment. In fact, it is not a sign of a good person those who be shaming humans who like different fictional concepts. Or when someone keeps using ai generators knowing full well it's based on constant data theft of all sort of human creators across generations and can not exist without the continuance of this theft. Or those supporting creators that they know did irl crimes. Or those who are Policing what's can and cannot go into fiction as if the fickleness of preference have never let alot of things survive its judgement. And I can go on with the miniature examples. You are forgiven if you did not know before, some people learn through experience, but not anymore when you continue this behaviour. And maybe if you can't differentiate between reality and fiction, and what's more important than what, maybe, just maybe, you shouldn't be consuming fiction.

DO NOT POST WHAT YOU DID NOT CREATE. Do you like it when people keep posting your selfies that you only ment to share for funsies and what not? Isn't worse if you did not post that selfie in the first place or never wanted it to be used like that? It's the SAME FOR ART. This is the artists work just as much as your face is yours. Social media at the baseline is about who ever the poster is, their posts are theirs. So you posting an artist's drawing, with no permission, no credit to them, no nothing, is not allowed and people can report that. Don't be an ignorant thick fig and play the victim when schooled like this precious dear\s .Reposters disconnect so many content from their creators and this is how alot of beautiful things in life die, by simply not knowing they are loved, shoved into the over consumption machine..

And lastly, You don't have anything nice to say to OP? Don't say anything! It's not your misguided duty to educate people on how embarrassingly self centered you are, it's okay to be a basic #&★— I promise. It okay to feel out of place in a niche that doesn't concern you. It's okay to realise other people have different perspectives of the fiction work you enjoy. You can sit down.

And I'd like to add, Mani is a safe space for au and ships even if I don't like em, cuz they are only FICTION and will remain FICTION no matter how much I loved them or hated them.

Good day, dears🍀

[tacticalrefrigerator]

For personal reasons im gonna ignore the last 10 ish minutes of season two episode 8. it's not canon its a fucked up fan fiction that someone wrote :)

⚠️Season two episode eight spoilers⚠️

Genuinely tho why the fuck did David Jenkins think that THAT was an appropriate send-off for izzy? To be a representation of the metaphorical death of blackbeard? That's it??? That's all he was in the end? His death taking blackbeard with him leaving just Edward?

My question is why couldn't he have lived and his "send off" be becoming Captain izzy hands aiding Zheng and company in revenge against prince ricky? He could have lived and taken on the role of "blackbeard" while leaving Ed and Stede to be innkeepers, that being the "death" of blackbeard. Or if Izzy had to die why couldn't the death of blackbeard be literal? Killing blackbeard and his first mate Izzy Hands, leaving not a trace of blackbeard leaving stede and company to either continue piracy or split up. I'll never be able to watch season two the same way knowing they, traumatized, abused, disabled, and grew Izzy all for him to die as a pawn for Ed's story. That was fucking soul crushing.

It wasn't even a character arc for Izzy, his own death. It was an obstacle for FUCKING ED. So everything leading up to this point, all of his growth, his acceptance within the crew as the unicorn, the abuse from Kraken!Blackbeard, the finding of himself, ALL OF THAT WAS FOR FUCKING NOTHING???

This character meant so much to me for so many reasons. He was an angry, traumatized man who was clinging to an ideal of someone who'd changed. As he grows as a character he realizes that Blackbeard doesn't exist anymore and what's left is Edward Teach, the man he fell for, his best friend. He realizes he's accepted by the crew of the revenge, and in turn realizes he's finally part of something again. His growth as an older queer disabled man from a hardened jerk who couldn't let go of blackbeard was beautiful to watch. And they cut it short. Izzy spoke to me as a character, watching him die in such an, undignified way killed me inside. I have very little in common with izzy yes. He's a 50 something heavily traumatized disabled man living in the (though not historically accurate) 1700's , im a queer, able bodied, teen from colorado in the 21st century who rants on tumblr for fun. But watching episode 6 in particular, knowing what he was in season 1, watching him fearful to be himself then be accepted beautifully when he started singing, accepted as their unicorn dressing in drag, performing during Calypso's birthday, It spoke to me. That process of being terrified of being yourself then finally finding the group that loves you for you. I related to that point in his story so much. I was and still in a sense am terrified of being myself. Im a weird little gay trans guy who's into weird niches. Seeing that struggle in a character and watching his acceptance resonated with me and meant the world and beyond to my little queer heart.

And another thing, Jenkins didn't even fucking tell Con that izzy would be killed when he signed onto ofmd 2. He broke the news halfway through FILMING. A character that meant that much to both Con and the fanbase was killed off to be nothing more than a CHARACTER ARC FOR EDWARD. And the actor who brought Izzy Hands to life was none the wiser until he'd already agreed to play Izzy again.

Now knowing that the story might go on without Izzy, without Con constantly reposting fanart of izzy, without his sass, without his vaguely nsfw quips. It makes the idea of season three less appetizing, for lack of a better word. Izzy was a key part of why i loved season 2 and was willing to excuse how rushed it was.

That's my 2 cents about that absolute bullshit ending to Izzy's story.

[thedegu]

For no particular reason I gave taken pictures of all of my d20s, and I am posting them with rankings under the cut

All the names listed for these dice are just what I've given them. I don't remember what company has made any of these, so don't ask lmao. They are listed with the character associated with them if applicable. From worst to best, we have:

Chunk 1 D. To be fair to this die, it is meant to keep track of HP in MTG, not to be rolled. That being said, she has a lot of manufacturing defects, to the point I'd never roll her because, well, there is no way she's balanced. However that does not excuse the really shotty paintjob and overall low craftsmanship, she lives inside the bag of holding unless I'm playing mtg and want to keep track of hp with her-- which I usually don't because I both have a better tracking dice in her sister as well as an app and a paper tracker.

Chunk 2, D, Look, I will roll you in a pinch, but blame your brother that I try not to. even though your craftsmanship is much higher wality and you're opaque so I cant see any possible air bubbles inside of you, I just don't trust you like that. I know you came in clutch with that one nat 20 for Madea's save against her father's effect, but look at your brother. Would you trust your manufacturing if you knew that's where you were made, too? I will use you to keep track of HP during commander nights, though, I promise.

Lesbian <3. D, these were hand made dice I bought at a pride fair and I wish I could give them a higher score but they roll like hand-made dice :pensive: like its notable how many times river rolled a 17 with this girl so she's been gently placed in the bag of holding until further notice. she's also super hard to read and you can hardly see the flag in any of the dice in the set outside of the d6. i wannnntttt tooooo loooovvvveeeee youuuuuu

Asphalt, C, bought this D20 on a whim as a single dice. I don't think I've ever rolled it. I've always just reached out for any other dice at the time, including its sister, Funfetti. I guess I should start reaching for this one instead because, given how much Funfetti has been defiant, maybe her sibling will be more competitive.

Berry Blue(jeans), C my first ever dice for DMing but he came in that welcome to dnd bookset with lost mines of phandelver. It has perfectly useable dice but has little nostalgia, even for being my first dm set. does have the knock against it that *technically* my dad bought it for me. But I don't hold it against him too bad; he just doesn't have much pizazz ya feel?

Black n blood, C, I dont rmemver why i bought this, I think it was for a barbaiain character I never really got to play but either way, I don't think I've ever really used this set, it feels basic but it does have more pizzaz then the dice above the stark matte black with the blood red numbers has some flair but I've never really felt the need to roll this set when I have my blood bone set that fills the same niche and are one of my favorites

snow stone| Rossien, C, I don't have too much to say about this die beyond its surprisingly hard to read and, rolls meh.

Sea Dragon, C, is one of my oldest sets of dice and only gets a B because of that. It was the second set of dice I ever bought, but they have ended up in dice jail more than once, brining down their score. They're also super slippery and hard to pick up because of that.

MAGIC! B, i dont remember buying this dice nor ever using them, but boy are they pretty <3 they are in my current rotation of dice

girliepop, B, while i love his color and texture girliepop is just so beat to shit that I hesitate to use it anymore. She's one of my older sets but the one who has aged least gracefully. Im missing a few dice from the set, and the d20 itself is pretty beat to shit from different moves and interactions with pets I wish I did you better girliepop but you're still cute

Funfetti, A, oh, Funfetti, you are the dice that inspired this list. How you always roll exactly one under a verbally set DC so well and so reliably. If I want to miss that DC by a hair, I know who to pick.

Metal Steam | Xavia, A. soild rolls feels good to roll and is easy to read. I don't have much to say besides that

Blood Bone, S, this dice is sooo nice to roll, with its matte surface and good contrast between the numbers and the face. probably my favorite dice to roll, if not use. they're also really good at death saves while mid at most other things wich feels fitting imo

Ace Dice! (ace dice ace dice ace dice), S, a gift from my sibling and my only metal dice, is only on the bottom of S-tier because she's really hard to read and difficult to roll. I love playing and fidgeting with you, but I'd actually rather roll just about any other dice in my collection. You're one of my favorite to handle, and I love showing you to people because you're so much fun to hold and play with, but I wish there was more contrast between the numbers and the faces.

forest green | Ida, S, my first ever set of dice I bought for myself. She's had many characters under her belt, Xavia, Ida, Xildi, Koli, to name a few, but she's so dependable and a GREAT storyteller. if I have an important roll to make, I almost always pick this dice to roll

Purple Magic| ale, S, a gift from @halfandhalfling, from inside a bar of soap. This dice has been through a lot with me and Ale. I almost exclusively use this dice to roll for ale if I'm not using Foundary, it's had some major clutch moments as well as some devastating failures (girliepop cannot make a save for their life) but it is one hell of a storyteller.

Dino | Tyblin, S, a gift from @ijltln the whole set has little dinosaur figures in them and I love them so much, it frustrates me that I couldn't get a good picture of the d20 because it also has my favorite dino in it.

Phinox Fire | Madea, S, a gift from @theboombardbox, this is a liquid-core dice, and it's so much fun to roll. She does not have too many stories connected in her storytelling but she's just so damn pretty that I don't care.

Jaguar's eye | acamapichtli, S, there is going to be a theme for my s-tier as this was a gift from @halfandhalfling. They are the only set of gem dice I own but god, they're so much fun to roll and were clutch during the ancient history arc. They are also my newest set of dice!

-

(dis)Honorable mentions

Foundary dice roller: C, I want to like you more than I do, but you've burned me one too many times. Your tools are making my life easier by doing the math, which is reduced by the constant, absolutely abismial rolls. Me and my entire group going whole sessions unable to roll above a 10 on you, is just -- you'd rate yourself this way too if you were me, especially after that beach encounter You know what you did boundary, and you need to do a lot to get that faith back

Roll20 dice roller: D, you can almost see the pattern in the dice rolls. This website's RNG feels way too predictable and almost weighted. it never feels good to roll on Roll20

Google Dice: C Whenever I don't trust Foundary and am too lazy to go get my physical dice, I use you. You roll pretty well and what feels fair. Your interface is easy to use and fun to watch, but you are brought down from an A to a C because, sadly, you are Google.

Random dice roller app i downloaded 10 years ago: A, similar interface to the google one but just on my phone, I should just use this when Foundary is being a bitch tbh, but I always forget I have the app. You might be super old and are probably filled with viruses but you get the job done and I'm thankful for that

[detectivehole]

hey detective how do i stop getting bored with everything i do? i can't seem to do anything anymore and it's messing with my head so badly

unfortunately anon this is a textbook symptom of depression, which can effect anyone any time. speaking from personal experience, you want to get the jump on this as soon as you can, and i advise speaking to someone you trust about this experience and seeking medical/professional intervention, as well as researching self help methods. that's all corny, i know, but they can work. depression isn't all sadness and melancholy, a lot or even all of it is unending boredom, and personally ive always found the boredom more agonizing then the sadness

or maybe it's not depression, but better safe than sorry

in the meantime, chasing little highs to keep things bearable is the best method imo, even if it's hard. some suggestions:

create a list of artsy/shitty movies to work through

smoke weed (avoid booze)

create a charcuterie board as fancy or as trashy as your heart desires (best done in conjunction with the weed)

force yourself to revisit something you were obsessed with as a child

take a weekend vacation to a city that's only an hour away

emulate some retro games

waste some disposable cash on a very specific, very out of character thrifted outfit, and wear it in public

play free online games with your friends

play free online games alone

go down a youtube rabbit hole

box dye your hair a color you think is ugly, to keep things interesting. if you hate it, you can dye it black or cut it off. it'll grow back probably

get really into one niche of music to the point where its obnoxious

look through one of the countless free archives online and start a personally curated collection (i like to go through gif cities and just download shit i like)

start a new side blog cataloging something no one cares about. like sidewalk plants, or clouds that look like clouds. squirrels you see

do all of these or none of them or whatever. it's up to you. just remember that nothing is a waste of time because the time is gonna pass anyway. if you do them, and still none of them interest you, you can at least say you did them, and that you were trying to dig yourself from out of this rut. plus they make good conversation pieces

getting through life when everything feels like nothing is about leaning into the absurd and forcing yourself to do things anyway- at least if everything's boring, you have no excuse not to try something new. worst it could be is... still boring. if it's bad at least that's an emotion to feel, and if it's good that's a win

[trauma-culture-is-blog]

Trauma culture + being black and coming from immigration (born where I live, parents where born abroad and came with grandparents when they were kids ) is

The hairdressers were my ennemies.

I saw a post today about it and I am so glad. Going to a country were black are a minority mean people here don't understand your hair. That would be ok if our hairdressers weren't fucking traumatising. I used to be sent to hairdress and there was now kindness. They forced me to sit down and brushed hair in the worst way possible (not just for kinky hair that's just litteraly not how you do it — that's probably just abuse actually) it hurted so much I cried when they did it and it always made me loose some hairs. Then when they made the braid, it hurted too, and it kept hurting days after it was finished, I could sleep but head mouvement were uncomfortable and it if felt like somoene was pulling my hair 24/7. And the hairdressing part was soooo loooong, two, three hours if I was at least a little bit respected. Sometimes one day because the hairdressers randomly decided to take others clients (not fair I was there before you told me you would be quick) or took a break (you deserved it but don't pretend it'll be quick then) and because I was a child I couldn't do anything except crying while they were basically pulling off my hairs and sometimes moving my head around with no kindness. Their excuses ? "You need to suffer to be pretty" (not fair, not true). Eventually I got used to it, was able to take my stuff to not be too bored and learn how to ignore the pain.

But they were THE ONLY HAIRDRESSER AVAILABLE BACK THEN ! For a Big part of my childhood I didn't had access to somoene gentle enough with my hairs because of how they were. Occasionally there was, one or two kind person but most of the time it was just trauma. I don't think you do thing right if your client is in pain or if they cry.

Plus all the time people touched my hairs without me wanting to (somoene took off one of my braid lmao. He appologised and we were child, so I'm not mad anymore, just baffled) was really disrepectfull because no one understood or respected this trauma of mine.

I felt very validated by this reels I saw on Instagram, my trauma is valid. I know hair related trauma aren't rare, but the way it was made to me, by professionals, and made me see this part of me as an oddity or a chore- that's a pretty niche experience where I live.

But positive trauma culture is realising all of that was fucked up and learning to be kind to your hair and that you can be pretty without suffuring. I washed my hair today and I'll make sure to treat them in a way that nourish them ! I love touching them. They're not something I hate anymore they're m'y pride and joy.

To ANYONE who have any kind of hair related trauma, it is valid, in case you doubted it.

-🦡

.

[bleedchan]

i don’t get how he can be doing okay in the slightest. i don’t get how it could possibly be so much better, whatever he feels he has now from replacing his also only and closest friend with… giving more therapy to his mom instead, and going outside more and stuff, and cutting me out of his life.

i mean, i’ve fucked up in ways i didn’t know i had to change that i genuinely feel like are absolutely changeable. i’ve been miserable and bitchy a lot.

but like… people can change, quickly. i quit cigarettes because of him cold turkey, and only picked them up again years and years later, because even though we weren’t dating anymore i was super worried about his surgery recovery, and he wasn’t around a lot…

and tons of times i’ve thought i don’t actually like boys, for years and years, and then fall head over heels and get my heart broken and stuff! tons of times i’ll think i hate some genre of thing and actually like it so much it’s basically my personality! i can pick up sayings and traits naturally from people i like! it’s not fake, i’m not fake to my core T^T i’m obviously really malleable, in certain situations, and when determined enough.

like… i bitch a lot about trans people (i am trans) and men a lot (shitty dad; i’ve tried to date many awful guys; sa victim etc) and like, totally work myself into a snit a lot and use it as an excuse to be a piece of shit, because i’m actually just lonely and desperate for attention or to talk about something embarrassing, and i feel humiliated about the whole thing.

i do this Everything Ever Sucks bit like almost compulsively in response to that feeling. i also have a tendency to split and put stuff into categories, but i’d thought i’d gotten a lot better at it than i used to be… like, i get that it’s totally maladaptive and stuff, but…

i mean, if anything could make me realize i’ve been bitching about men too much, clearly it would be an event like this going on for more than a week, right..? surely if anything would prompt my unhealthily obsessively analytical thoughts and introspectiveness and tendency to pick myself apart, it’d be a weeks long ever-worsening terror response..?

how could anyone say that’s superficial or whatever, either?? i have such an unclear sense of my identity, and am so malleable that i just sort of become Whatever to some extent, but like. that is me.

when i enjoyed whatever slashfic in the past, it’s not like i just lost that. i just have the emotional control ability of like a teenager, and i feel like i’d been generally a lot better about it… but i’ve just been feeling really lonely (lol, and i thought i was lonely then!)

like, i was definitely kind of being a bitch, but i didn’t think it was at this point. for me, having my best and closest friend not like the stupid niche bullshit i like shouldn’t be friendship ending, and i should have been less bitter and self-hating in an aoe outwardly-hateful way. this is obviously a minor thing i can genuinely change, when i know it’s actually this bad, right? i don’t Need to be like this, and change is insanely easy for me when i care enough about it. i don’t know if anyone could argue that one just Cannot change things like this quickly after experiencing a week in my body, with all the same emotional systems and stuff. as if people just can’t have changes of heart and be less of assholes about things. idk

i guess things between us had been sort of distant, but i thought it had been looking up before all this… i asked him a few times what i could do or buy for his birthday and he just said not to over and over, but… we’d played a couple video games for the first time in a long time, and we were talking about doing vtuber stuff up until this thing that happened all of a sudden.

i started posting drawings for the first time in a long time and was manic and way too stoned for like, a week or two, and kind of barely around to talk to, and then… i was kind of a jackass to him when he came back from his trip, but i was really just terrified he seemed completely different and like he doesn’t like me anymore, which is maybe the case.

i mean, i definitely fucked up a lot. i didn’t know that not controlling my bitching better, and being kind of selfish and stupid for a while, and the cumulative effects of me sucking due to not stopping myself more from being a dumb needy baby would result in me ruining my own life like this, but…

to only find this out secondhand via my mom (because i’m too toxic to reply to, i guess) is just… well i guess it’s all been pretty fucking cold and brutal! if he intentionally had some sort of scheme to make me kill myself, it’d maybe look like this. like, i’m not saying that’s the case, just, this has been horrific for me, and i’m really not sure i see a light at the end of the tunnel… >___<;;

and like whatever stimulus would make someone rapidly change, this would be it!!! i feel like i’m looking down into a great yawning chasm that i’m slipping into, and when i try to reach for his hand he’s straight up boredly walked away at this point. i’m not just saying shit out of desperation either, all my thought processes have been going at 500% as i obsessively pick apart where i fucked up and how i would be different, genuinely, in a heartfelt enough way to be normal and have it mean something, idk

i just can’t listen to Any music anymore, because it all contextually reminds me of the time before he did shrooms and decided to ghost me forever. i cannot watch videos or sleep (i managed 5 hours last night finally, scattershot—mostly blacking out, really!) because in the moments i start to relax enough to start falling asleep, in the moments of silence or when the person in the video is speaking too slowly or whatever, the ptsd terror kicks in hard and i like. can’t be in my room all of a sudden. i just feel like i Have to go out into the night and vanish like my old cat did or something, when she went. i haven’t eaten anything in at least two days. i feel so sick all the time, and it’s only getting worse and quickly, haha…

i just don’t understand, like… how can he possibly be okay, too..? he said to my mom something like he didn’t want to be there for me like a therapist and be so… relied on, and stuff, but when we were on call his mom would bust in to gossip about his dad and offload anxiety and get free therapy like, every 10 minutes, way fucking worse than i ever do…

there’s No way his mom is less transphobic lol (she can’t even get his pronouns right consistently, still…) or more accepting of his interests, either, or… that he’s found new friends he can confide in or have any rapport with or laugh at the same jokes with, in any degree comparable to the sudden massive hole that an 11 year friendship this close going missing should cause.

i’m trying not to get too suspicious, but his mom would be over the fucking moon about this whole thing… she’d totally be all grima wormtongue as soon as there’s an opening, too, and be as manipulative as possible during or immediately after a trip. somehow all the stuff i’ve been told sounds really aligned with his mom’s personal interests. maybe he just came to all these conclusions himself though, and his mom is just encouraging it, while i’m wailing and sobbing and stuff.

like, is he just going to keep going outside, like that’s going to replace everything..? if he ever listens to windhand, or plays path of exile or anything, he’ll… just be able to do that, even though i introduced him to those things and we played them together so much..? is he going to not feel sad about it because of me, or just… annoyed enough to feel over everything..?

that’s unimaginable to me… but i guess he just… really doesn’t like me all of a sudden. maybe he’ll just feel kind of… annoyed, and decide to like new things, and jettison his entire old set of things he likes and cares about, as if you can just… do that. i dunno.

even going outside doesn’t help, because i’ve done that the most when he’s visited here, so all the features make me think of him. being in my room makes me think of him. i don’t have anywhere i can go—even online, to tell anyone who will read it and care, that i want to kill myself

i really want to kill myself. it feels like an inevitability of trying to live as long as i can with this hole in me until that happens. i don’t know how to say that without sounding manipulative or reactionary or anything, i just… feel insanely empty, and allergic to my own life. i want to say i don’t know how i could be so awful as to deserve this, but i guess deep down i know i deserve it.

i’m miserable all the time and don’t have any friends or anything who i’m that close to, other than my best friend, and he’s gone, and not only that, but i was ruining his life—in such a profound way that even if i really genuinely feel i’ve changed then it still doesn’t count. i’m so toxic i can’t even be talked to a couple times a week, or ever again, even if i promise to be arm’s length and as genuinely different as imaginable… People Clearly Cannot Change Overnight, nor after weeks of agony and constant increasing illness and obsessively trying to figure out how to Actually suck less! and yes, i realize how crazy and obsessive i sound.

to be cut off so suddenly from your closest and only friend, of over a decade… like, he won’t even let me apologize and let me know he read my apology, haha… to know i’m not deserving of the slightest sympathy, and that i shouldn’t even be allowed to explain anything or admit fault… the pain is just multiplying day by day. another week feels like it’s going to kill me

i genuinely can’t live with the idea of having caused the person to whom i was closest to feel like this. i want to blame anything else—his mom, drugs, him, but i know the problem is really me. anything else was just a crucible and all my bullshit i did blew up and destroyed almost all of me. i don’t know if i’ll make it a week, or a year, or even if i make it to five years—what in my life could replace this 11 year wound, by then?

i don’t even have anybody to vc with. i can imagine having that if i could live another few years and really pretended my hardest not to be broken by this, but the nauseating shallowness of that and aching empty loneliness of this that only gets worse and worse will kill me then, too.

i was starting to draw a little bit, but now everything is just getting worse and worse and worse on a direct trajectory—the past few days i can’t even sleep until i’m passing out from exhaustion, because i have this ptsd terror drive of sickening intensity to just, run or drive into the night and disappear—or to, now that i’ve lost my closest friend, and when everyone else is also at their most bored and annoyed by me, just… disappear, and not even be noticed missing by anyone for days and days and days, and turn up months later as unrecognizable remains with no id 300 miles away somewhere else

[onegirlatelier]

Film costume analysis | Daisy's red dress in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

(mild spoiler alert!)

Intro

I have a million and one things to write about, and I have to start somewhere, and I can’t believe that no one’s done a costume analysis on this specific dress. The film (The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, dir. David Finch) came out in 2008. I was far too young back in 2008 to remember anything about the internet, so I’m not sure whether it’s because there had not developed a niche for film costumes on the internet yet or that this film was generally overlooked (imo), but there is really very little coverage of this dress on the internet. Besides, some links do not work anymore and some pages are archived.

For me, though, it has a permanent place in my mind because it’s a combination of period drama plus ballet plus contemplation on time plus the one and only Ms. Cate Blanchett. Dunno if one could ask for more in a film.

Red also happens to be my very, VERY favourite colour.

I haven’t made a Western (as in opposition to Chinese) dress for absolute ages, and I have never done a couture dress with a boned bodice. Hence I would love to grow some skills by attempting to replicate this red dress, probably making it a bit more haute couture than the original one as I imagine the industrial standards for a costume are slightly different from a couture gown.

(I cannot, for the life of me, find the current location of this dress via internet – so my best guess is that it’s in the storage of the film studio, if not in a private collection. If they put it on display I would totally book a ticket to the US okay.)

The film clip

The biggest source is of course the film itself. This section of the plot starts from around 1:26:00, and the dress appears in what is called ‘the gazebo scene’ several minutes later. There is not much material because its appearance lasts maybe five minutes in total, and mostly in dim lighting and mist. Still there are a few things to be noted. (Excuse the subtitles, ahem.)

First of all, the V-shaped neckline and the V-shaped low back. I love love this style. Looking closely, you can also see the placement of gatherings along the neckline and the back.

The sleeves are in one piece with the bodice, which is known as kimono sleeves (which feels a teeny bit strange because they have little to do with actual kimono sleeves). There is some underarm wrinkles, which is totally necessary as she needs to raise her arms when dancing.

The neckline is technically not off-shoulder, but it’s really barely on the shoulders and I doubt that the shoulder area had any major supporting role in the hanging of this dress. It certainly wouldn’t for me, since I have very slope-y shoulders and a bodice like that with no inner support would slip right off. The bodice has to be boned and its weight should be distributed to the waist instead of the shoulders, if I am to keep this beautiful neckline. I think the original was likely boned anyways, as suggested by this still. However, we also know that Daisy danced in this dress and it seems flexible like a tutu bodice, which means another source of reference is tutus/ballet costumes. I know the side panels of tutu bodices (when made in non-stretchy materials) are cut on bias, as shown in this picture.

The reason for this is to make the side panels fit tightly to the dancer’s torso whilst allowing some room for movement and breathing. I’m not sure how to use this piece of information, though, because as far as I can see there are no extra seams except for the CF, CB, and side seams. Perhaps I will try structuring the boned inner support on bias, as I’ve seen actual corsets being done like that. Ultimately the goal is to make a bodice that can cling to the body without shoulder hangings.

Back to the film clip. I try to choose a suitable fabric by observing how the dress moves and reflects light. (This has a lot to do with the film lighting, on which my guesses are based, and I understand that in real life and under other types of lighting the effects could be much different.) Let me start by stating that I’m choosing a silk because if I’m going to spend all this time on this dress, it had better be made of proper good materials. (The gazebo scene is available on YT should you want to see it in action.)

First thing I’ve noticed is that the dress does not reflect the light in a sharp, shiny way. It’s easy to think that the fabric has a matte finish, especially when referring to the film clip only, but the clip from blue-ray actually suggests a subtle lustre. The fabric also does not have heavy slubs so I’m ruling out dupioni.

Secondly, the fabric feels quite solid, so no chiffon/georgette/organza.

The skirt has some volume, but we do not see a petticoat (or at least not a separate lining) when Daisy raises her leg as she dances, so the fabric has to be airy and not too drapey. This is where I’m eliminating charmeuse and crepe de chine because I feel that they are too fluid and will not hold the bell shape of the skirt.

The gathers around the bust and the waist are quite soft and delicate, and when Daisy dances we see the fabric slide gently down her leg. For these reasons I’m hesitant about taffeta. I happen to own about five metres of cheap taffeta, and I don’t know whether it’s because it’s cheap and therefore low quality, but it’s very crispy and papery, and produces ‘dry’ gathers. Perhaps the quality/hand has to do with weight too (the one I own is 19 momme and feels too thin for this project). I don’t remember ever touching an expensive and heavy taffeta, so I’m not sure if paying more could remedy the plastic feel.

The above brings me to a choice between a heavier, better taffeta and raw silk (I’ve been told that ‘raw silk’ is the English translation for soie sauvage). Currently, my plan is to make a skirt with my very cheap taffeta and go from there. I will also get samples for both taffeta and raw silk, probably from multiple sources too, because there’s no point in rushing when you are already investing this much, right?

(EDIT: looking at how soft the sleeves hang in the blu-ray clip, I'm willing to consider charmeuse, but at a heavier weight than 20 momme. Duchess is also possible but I worry that 1) it's too heavy for the gathers, 2) it's really not very affordable at the moment.)

Blu-ray behind the scenes

There is a specific section in the blu-ray in which Jacqueline West, the costume designer, talks about the costumes. She specifically discusses this dress, which is actually based on an original.

This shot wonderfully shows the front closure: seven pairs of hooks and eyes with the skirt opening almost directly in the front, though it could be slightly to the right (left side of picture). The hooks and eyes are functional. A layer of fabric from the left side extending as a modesty panel of some sort down the CF. I also noticed the shiny spots on the top of the right side opening and bottom of the left side, but I'm not sure why they were there. The writing overlapping the mannequin reads: ‘Make in deep midnight blue/This is a genuine Claire McCardell dress/Jazz club'. (David Finch had wanted to change the colour until he saw Ms Blanchett in it.)

There are also two sketches.

I have not seen this second one anywhere else on the internet and I’m really pleased about finding it because it illustrates so clearly the intended effect of the bodice and the skirt.

McCardell and the front closure

The Claire McCardell bit is supplemented by an ELLE interview with West. I will quote one specific question and answer from that interview:

Did you have a favorite look for Cate Blanchett's character?

The red dress has become kind of an icon piece. It was a compilation of some different Claire McCardell designs that I loved. The long ballerina-length skirt in 1947—no one else was doing that really in America. It was strictly in Europe, in France. McCardell's favorite color was red, and I put the hooks and eyes that she used on a lot of her clothing down the front as an homage to her. Those hooks aren't made anymore.

This blog article by Isaspacey also helped so much by quoting a Claire McCardell dress at an Augusta auction. The links to the auction have expired so the pictures I’m posting here are reposts from Isaspacey’s blog. (Credits probably belong to Augusta.)

There is also another Claire McCardell dress on Ebay that has hooks and eyes down the front.

I’m going to put the pictures here just in case the link stops working (when someone buys it for $945? I mean, I would.) The pictures were presumably taken by the seller enokiworld. One of these pictures is particularly valuable, as it offers such a clear view of the hook-and-eye closure. I’m not sure about the hooks, but the eyes are sandwiched between the outer layer and an inner layer that simultaneously cover up the seam.

I also really like this dress because it has a dog leg closure for the skirt. I would like to use this type of closure for my replica as I feel it’s more elegant. Then I recalled this tutorial for a mid-19th century dog leg closure, which I first read many years ago for an actual 1850s dress lol. It looks very adaptable to my purpose.

Here is also a picture from an FIDM display a few years ago, showing the left side seam where the gathers are stitched down and not just floating. Also note that 1) again the fabric is not super reflective/shiny, 2) it's just so red I love it. -------------

EDIT 9 September, 2024

I found another Claire McCardell! It's here. I don't want to repost the pictures but please let me know if teh link doesn't work anymore.

And of course, this gown at MET. It has a 'boot-hook' closure in the front.

[puppydolled]

when I talk abt my spirituality and self conception, ppl seem to want to gather around me or follow me when it clicks for them, it's hard to be ok with that when you just get called a cult leader for fostering spirituality and self love in those around you. personally I try to just think of it more like just a system of worship for an isolated spiritual group, like the greco-roman mysteries and other ancient cults, doesn't really help when you know they mean it like scientology and evangelical christianity and all those cults of personality. I don't really talk abt any of it anymore tho cuz of it.

p.s. fuck the greeks and romans, all the cool mysteries started out non greco-roman and slowly assimilated

yeah, it's a known phenomena forever that western culture has been kinda brainwormed by cults popped up especially in the late 20th century and also like, satanic panic & other reactionary forces spawned from them and also christian forces etc. and also how these are applied especially towards online trans women, there's a reason cultjacketing is a term

it does not get particularly upset about people doing it, but it does wish its girlfriend could live in peace from the millionth online harasser targeting trans women online with their personal excuse to view them as a force of evil. it thinks having to practice personal security and general distance/paranoia about people when you are literally just playing and practicing spirituality with yourself kinda sucks and no one should have to do it

or that people were able to comprehend existing together as beings who talk about shit didnt mean someone was Coerced into whatever they can imagine. literally like, sharing little beliefs and drawing eachother's little pictures on things and the interactivity of it all is literal kindergarten playground behavior, but because adults are doing it, it must be some sort of wicked force

also it thinks the greco-roman stuff was fine, the imperialist and colonialist forces obviously is not what it's talking about but the approaches to spirituality were like, fine it thinks. it special interested on roman legion structure when it was much younger and thus learned about some of the more niche cults, and while like the cult of mithras and stuff was originally very not roman, it thinks the way these smaller cults etc were practiced was very genuine, and in some cases literally the only practice of it left over time.. there's obviously more nuance to it but it doesn't entirely get the hate for roman and greek polytheism, it was a slightly bastardized practice for the main deities but it was still genuine for those who lived and practiced it

[placeinthisworld]

i am relating to SO much of what im reading on ur blog rn. do not get me wrong - i LOVE ttpd and love taylor. it's kind of one of those things that's like "always have, always will." im always going to be so grateful for her work and this community, and as i said - i AM loving the music rn!

BUT. she feels different, and feels so far away. i know we are not owed her time or attention, but when you've built your entire brand on fan connection and being "different" than any other celebrity in that regards, it's going to feel off and unexpected when it suddenly stops with no explanation. most of her little interaction is on tiktok, which is half the time not with actual fans, but rather anyone who uses her song in the background (which a lot of times is influencers!) ppl say "yeah but now she does so much more for us" .... yeah... so many new THINGS to buy.

i also think she's at a place where she KNOWS she is on top of the world rn (good for her!) but it has come with a complex - she knows now she doesnt NEED to be close with her fans, doesnt NEED to use her platform for good, doesnt NEED to take constructive criticism - because the gp likes her enough to where she doesn't even need a strong centralized fanbase. as of rn, no opposition can make a dent in her fame or income and she knows it. and it feels icky, and honestly makes her feel less human (which is interesting, because the ttpd is imo some of the most raw humanlike work)

the new social circle is off too. i dont hate travis, and i was happy for her, but have come to like him less and less since realizing he's a bit sleazy and is kind of only liberal for pay. he's publicly made r*pe jokes and xenophobic comments in the past couple years (NOT from 15 year old tweets! recent!) his dad is also super transphobic and mahomes brother is a charged SAer yet taylor gallavants w both of them. travis just seems like an oaf and while im glad she had something more easy and fun, it's telling that there's been a lack of backlash towards him when he's exhibited the same behavior as matty and the only things taylor could write ab him were sports and high school references. i hate to even touch on her personal life like this but god forbid this is a forever thing :/ omg this is a lot but yeah im glad we're having this convo

yup!! bestie your feelings are so valid and i feel very very similarly about everything!!

she knows she doesn’t need to appeal to a niche audience of tween girls anymore. she knows she’s beyond that. fate worked its magic and now she’s america’s it girl without any of drama of having to censor her work. and while yes i’m very proud and happy for her, you’re exactly right, she’s more than happy to continue to push things for us to buy in order to feel close to her. she’s already established a group of life long fans by those who she’s interacted with, invited to things, sent money too etc. so she really doesn’t have to do anything else besides make more music and have the world speculate about her personal life. at the end of the day she just feels sooooo disconnected to us now, compared to how we used to have it at least.

ugh i knew icky meathead was sleazy without even needing taylor to bring him into the limelight but now everyone and their mom is obsessed and up his ass too. EVEN with all those gross things about him (we all saw the recent commencement speech excuse 🤢) he’s definitely democratic for pay. i definitely don’t think he’s gonna stick around forever, either he’ll fuck up and get caught w another girl or she’ll get bored of his ass (speculating that this is a legit relationship and not PR at least lol) she’s a girl that needs a new boy every now and then i fear.

generally i’m just disappointed in her now in a lot of aspects. but completely disconnecting from the world, acting like a whole ass genocide is not actively happening, only ever promoting of talking about herself or her own work just seems so bland and selfish. she’s mentioned voting like what, twice this year? in generic ghost written sentences on an IG story?

[adelemadouce]

Devilish Delicacies

I was well aware that I would never have him for myself. But it was quite obvious at that point that of all women I was his favorite! However, I don't know if I was able to hide my state of being in love from the world. I probably managed to do so, but not from everyone. One morning, when the Empress wanted to announce the selection of the ladies-in-waiting for the Pope's visit to Malmaison, her eye did not immediately fall on me. She apparently wanted me to stay in Paris, near the Emperor. At first I was very happy about this, because otherwise I would have had to use an illness of my children as an excuse not to accompany Joséphine to Malmaison. My second thought was, that the Empress was now in a state of expectation that would give her confirmation of my intimacy with the Emperor. She knew full well that I was sleeping with him! No one knew and recognized female behavior in a state of longing for love better than Joséphine! And then there was Églée, the only one of the other ladies, who, like the Empress, recognized my movements, the tone of my voice and the dreamy look in my eyes as a state of supreme infatuation. No, I couldn't hide it from these two women and I didn't want to anymore!

The Empress finally chose the powder puffs, the old aristocrats who had already paid hommage to the last Bourbon king "by the grace of God" to now worship the head of the Catholic Church! The old ladies of the court were delighted! We young ladies-in-waiting breathed a sigh of relief! Then Joséphine asked me to come to her, I curtsied to her and smiled sweetly. "The Emperor has allowed Mademoiselle Stéphanie de Beauharnais to make her first visit to the Opéra. Émilie, Églée and you, dear Adèle, will accompany her as chaperones in Princesse Louis' loge!" That was magnificent! Églée was also beaming at her selection as chaperone. "Your Majesty is doing us the greatest honour! Will Princesse Louis also be there?" asked Églée. She was Hortense's best friend, along with her sister. The Empress shook her head. "The Princesse Louis will be with me in Malmaison." Églée curtsied and gave me a cheerful look. She seemed to want to say: "The time to fulfill your condition has come!" The Emperor would be at the Opéra, the loges and small antechambers were dark, there were niches and shadows in the corridors, wouldn't the Emperor try to embrace me somewhere there? I think that was Églée's reasoning. It was fine with me! The Emperor knew about it, he would decide when and where Églée's little condition would be fulfilled. Besides, I was no longer angry with her, she was my best friend, I loved her sincerely, and it was better to have trustworthy friends at an imperial court, that could be full of unknown dangers and intrigues for a young naive woman like me. Always being a loner could perhaps be dangerous!

I knew that there were not only people at court who were well-disposed towards me or who were indifferent to me, but also those who did not approve of my proximity to the Empress or who simply did not like me because of my appearance and my little extravagances. Among them was Madame Junot, the wife of General Junot, who for inexplicable reasons had not yet been promoted to Marshal of the Empire. Laure, his wife, was a young, not particularly pretty blonde with a very sharp tongue. Because she supposedly knew the Emperor "when he was a little boy", (which couldn't possibly be true because of the age difference!) she constantly behaved in such an arrogant and condescending manner, as if she enjoyed a special position at court! The Empress ignored Laure's exaggerated self-portrayal, but could not mock her either, since Laure maintained close friendships with the Emperor's sisters, Joséphine's enemies. The Emperor himself occasionally laughed at Laure Junot and called her "the little plague!" I had to be careful of her because she seemed to sense something. One day she said to me, who was considered the most taciturn of all the ladies-in-waiting, as she passed by: "...as the saying goes - still waters run deep!"

Another lady who often looked at me with interest was Claire de Rémusat, a very close friend of the Empress. I simply do not understand why this woman (and her husband!) were even allowed access to the imperial court, let alone held such highly paid positions? In her political views Claire de Rémusat was a royalist through and through and she made no secret of it! She called the Tuileries a "parvenue court" and she openly criticized the Emperor for the execution of the Duc d'Enghien. She defended and praised Napoléon's enemies, such as the eccentric Madame de Staël and the affected Juliette Récamier,...and we young non-noble ladies-in-waiting had, in her opinion, no right at all to be at this court! I, in particular, seemed to be a thorn in her side. "Why are you here...your husband is only a minor official...and you, Madame Duchâtel...who are you?!" asked Claire smugly. Églée defended me. "Oh, Adèle only belongs to the Empress's family, is that not enough justification to be at this court, Madame?" I was really lucky that I had Églée. She was not only the most beautiful, the most lovable lady-in-waiting to Empress Joséphine, she was also the most confident! I don't know if the Emperor knew, but it was whispered that the zealous and clever Claire de Rémusat kept a secret diary in which she wrote down everything she saw and experienced every day at the Imperial Court, certainly peppered with her cheeky comments. Was I to be found in this diary? With my sweet, tender glances with which I had looked at the Emperor too often and carelessly? With the blush on my cheeks when he spoke to me? With my voice trembling with excitement as I answered him? With my heart pounding, my bosom heaving, and all my burning desire that I could not conceal as soon as I heard his step or his voice? Had Claire de Rémusat noticed all this and written it down? I didn't know, and I didn't want to know!

There were definitely more important things for me to think about! There was a delicate issue for me that I could hardly talk about with another person. I had always asked Moira for advice when it came to very personal matters. But I hadn't heard any news from my friend for a while, so I didn't know if Moira was even in a state to listen to my little problems. So I turned to Camille. She was not only my devoted maid, but also a very clever person who knew a lot about life. One morning, while Camille was doing my hair, I started a casual conversation about men in love and how easy it was to please them during lovemaking. I did not know whether Camille had a lover at the time, but she was very familiar with love affairs and knew a great deal more about them than I did. She laughed. "Yes, sometimes a woman just needs to touch the right spot at the right time and her lover will literally be bubbling over with delight!" Camille looked at me in the vanity mirror as I said: "But there are also spots on a man's body that a woman doesn't immediately think of when she wants to caress him, right?" Camille leaned close to my ear. "Yes, Madame...these are the spots that a man doesn't talk about with a woman. He wishes and hopes that the woman herself will recognize this part of his body, caress it with her fingers...with her tongue...or with something else." I turned my head to Camille. "...with something else? With what?" She giggled amusedly. "There are certain...devices, with which a couple in love can give themselves even more pleasure. It's as old as the world, Madame! Even fine ladies know these things...a Godemiché, for example!" I had never heard of any of this before. (Camille's words opened up completely new perspectives for me!) and of course I wanted to know what a "Godemiché" was! Camille told me about a female dessous tailor in rue Vieille-du-Temple, a certain Madame Kascade, who sold various erotic articles for ladies in a back room of her store. "However, Mme Kascade only offers these things with instructions for use at certain times!" I asked Camille to find out the next appointment with Mme Kascade, which was on Wednesday afternoon at five o'clock.

Well, the rue Vieille-du-Temple was not at one of the finest areas in Paris. Located in the old part of the Marais, there was a lot of riffraff hanging around here. The street were narrow, the pavement full of rubbish, and without even wanting to, you felt like you were back in the darkest medeaval. Camille asked Monsieur Copin to stop in the rue de Rozier, which was safer for our carriage. From there it was not far to Madame Kascade's boutique. It was already getting dark when Camille and I, deeply veiled, got out of the carriage and walked briskly across the narrow sidewalk. My maid knew the way, I would have been lost here alone! Greasy men whistled after us, I saw colorfully painted prostitutes, beggars with holey hats, cocarde sellers (they still existed!), one-legged soldiers with crutches, nuns with winged bonnets and many stray dogs. I held on tightly to Camille and was happy when we finally reached the store after a quarter of an hour. A bell rang as we entered. I saw beautiful bodices and shirts made of mousseline, the small room was heated by a stove and several oil lamps were burning on the walls. An older woman immediately came towards us, Camille whispered something, then we followed the woman into the back room. There we met several ladies, all young, perhaps a little older than me. They were also veiled. But from their giggles I could tell that none of them was over thirty. Behind a table stood a woman of mature age, dressed all in black, wearing black gloves and holding an object in her hand that looked like...a male member! She spoke softly: "...this Godemiché is entirely made of caoutchouk. The milky white colour is natural and looks most like a man's penis. The glans can be coloured with red henna powder if desired. Feel how soft and yet firm it is! Come on, ladies...touch this beautiful Godemiché!" I boldly grabbed the strange object and wrapped it completely in my gloved hand. It was indeed soft, élastique! On the table I saw various sizes and designs of Godemichés. They came in large, small, medium, huge (like my forearm!) and even with full testicles. "When using the rear opening (by that she meant the "back door"!) we recommend rubbing the Godemiché with a Vaseline balm, so it slides more smoothly!" the woman explained in her soft voice. She held an odorless balm under our noses. I had already found the perfect object and asked Camille to buy it. "But Madame, wouldn't you prefer a bigger Godemiché?" I had to laugh. "Take the one I chose! Hurry up, I want to get out of here!" It was already dark outside. There were even more people strolling on the sidewalk and the narrow streets. The weak lanterns had already been lit, but the golden light that fell from the shops and cafés onto the pavement was much brighter. Holding Camille's arm, I stumbled after her through the crowd until I was bumped into by a man. He was wearing a bicorne hat and a garrick with a high collar, his face was covered up to his nose in a scarf. The man apologized and touched his hat. When I saw his bright eyes, I thought for a moment I saw the Emperor... Camille pulled me along, took another look at the stranger, walked a few steps further and suddenly stopped. "Hey..." she called behind her to the passers-by, "....that was that Monsieur Roland!" I followed her gaze but didn't see the man anymore.

"That was Monsieur Roland..." she said to me. Camille shrugged her shoulders and pulled me further into the rue de Rozier. When we were finally sitting in our carriage, Camille gave me what she had bought for me from Madame Kascade and in the semi-darkness of our carriage, I held up the Godemiché like Joan of Arc once held up her sword! We giggled.

I wanted to speak to Duroc! It was not easy to get to him; you had to ask for an audience with one of his chamberlains. That morning, when the Empress was preparing her departure for Malmaison (which was to take place the next morning) I took the opportunity amidst the great confusion in the Empress's chambers and slipped unnoticed over to the Grand Marshal's apartments. The Emperor had briefly visited me in my rooms that morning. Our days together were about to begin and he was excited as a honeymooner, made quickly love to me on the dresser and left me singing without any further instructions. So I spoke to one of Duroc's chamberlains. Although I didn't know his name, I knew that the man was friendly and would not turn me away. And he didn't! He asked me to wait a moment. A short while later he led me into an antechamber and asked me to take a seat. Duroc finally appeared in person. I immediately stood up and curtsied. "Your Excellency, would you be so kind as to give me a moment of your precious time?" He wore a dark blue gold-embroidered court uniform, with decorative sword and lace cuffs. "Madame Duchâtel...of course!" He took my hand and bowed gallantly. "Your Excellency...I just want to know...has the Emperor given you... any instructions for me?" Duroc looked at me with piercing, somewhat knowing eyes. I think he enjoyed knowing so much about my "close" relationship with the Emperor. Well, he did indeed know about it, but he did not know everything! "You will be picked up this evening as usual! You will spend the night with the Emperor. You will need your maid tomorrow...it is up to you, Madame, whether Mademoiselle Camille accompanies you this evening, or appears at the palace tomorrow morning!" I looked him straight in the eyes. "And what would you prefer, Your Excellency? My maid was very disappointed in you! She had expected some sincere courtesies from you, but instead you introduced her to a strange gentleman...who is this Monsieur?" Duroc did not answer, and I continued undeterred. "....while I was running an errand in the Marais with my maid, this man crossed our paths as if by chance. Or must I assume, Your Excellency, that this man is your spy?" Duroc grabbed the doorknob, bowed slightly again, and made to leave. "....the word 'spy' is not accurate...'guard' is more appropriate...Madame,....I recommend myself!" He disappeared and left me... ...wondering.