olá! fiz esse tumblr pra postar principalmente moodboards com as soshis, se vocês quiserem também posso fazer alguns layouts e criar users pro twitter, tudo depende do engajamento que eu tiver aqui e da demanda da maioria. espero que gostem dos meus posts e se gostarem compartilhem por aí, ficarei muito grata :)
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hi! i made this acc to post mainly moodboards with soshis, if you want i can also make some layouts and create twitter @'s, it all depends on the engagement and the demand of the majority. i hope you like my posts and if you like share them pls, i'll be very grateful :)
Tiffany’s had the marks for as long as she could remember. Yes, marks, as in plural.
During school, she hides the ones on her left wrist under cuffs, bangles and bracelets—unlike her fellow classmates who gush, and compare handwritings, hoping to find their match.
It was strange enough having two. She had to have three.
The first one is in blocky Korean, a sentence circling around her wrist that her mom translates to ‘Five more minutes mom.’
That soulmate will apparently be sleeping when she runs into them, but they sound friendly enough. Much better than the other mark that she was born with anyway, beneath the sentence wrapped around her wrist is two words written in a thin cursive script.
‘Oh God.’
That’s it, and Tiffany wonders what on Earth she did for those to be the first words her soulmate utters to her. At least it’s in English.
The third one appears when she was four months old, meaning this person is younger than her, still they are close in age—the other two could be thirty years older for all she knew.
The mark lies on her right hip, again in Korean, but according to her mom, a much neater scrawl which translates to, ‘You look like you can use some help.’
Tiffany spends most of her youth imagining scenarios that could lead to the third one. Sometimes she thinks she should feel bad about neglecting the other two, but well…what reasonable situation could she come up with for ‘Oh God’ and ‘Five more minutes mom’?
Here’s what Kwon Yuri knows about her future. She’s the youngest out of all her soulmates; she was born with all her marks. When she learns how to read, she knows that she would speak first. She would speak first to all three of her older soulmates. Apparently they weren’t very outgoing types.
She also knows that she would follow in her aunt’s footsteps and dance instead of going into professional swimming like her dad wants her to. There is only so many situations that her mark (the one that spirals up her ankles), ‘Thanks, this week’s choreography hates me.’ can apply to.
Another thing she knows is that one of her soulmates is kinda bossy. That was putting it rather lightly. ‘That’s nice. Now take off your shoes.’ can’t be interpreted in a lot of ways. She wonders if she’ll meet them both in the same place, shoes and dancing could go hand in hand.
The third one is a little stranger. It sits right underneath her collarbone and says, ‘I’m still growing!’
Yuri was of course, prepared to withhold judgement until she actually meets her soulmates. But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t always curious about what kind of people they’d be.
______________________________________________)
Yoona’s always had a fascination with the words that are written just underneath her diaphragm in impeccably neat handwriting. The kind that her teachers would always point to when saying ‘why can’t you write like that!?’
It’s got five simple words, ‘Yes I would like that.’ and she’s intrigued because they’re written so formally. Yoona doesn’t know a single person that has ever spoken to her with honorifics like that before and it’s kinda saddening, because it probably means that she wouldn’t meet this person until she’s older and speaking politely like the rest of the stuffy adults.
Taeyeon isn’t born with any marks. Then one shows up when she’s a month old, another one turns up four months later, and if her parents weren’t already having a panic attack, the third one shows up exactly four months after that.
She’s not sure whether to thank whatever deity is up there that no more appear because she’s already having issues covering them up—or curse whatever deity is up there because of course she had to have three.
When she first learns how to read, the first one she deciphers is written vertically down her forearm. ‘Oh, so you do talk!’ She hates her soulmate already.
The one down her thigh (and the reason why she could never wear shorts) reads, ‘Brilliant, we get the midget.’ She takes back what she thought about the other one, she hates this person even more.
The third one is written in English, and it’s sprawled across her back. By the time she’s gained proficient skill in the language to even try to decipher it, she’s already beyond annoyed as hell at this person, because the bloody thing is over a paragraph long and it had to be a rant.
Despite her best efforts, she hasn’t managed to make out much other than, ‘Hi I’m ********* nice to meet you. ******************************************* ************************************************************************ ******************************************************************’
Taeyeon was not very impressed by any of these people. Especially the motor-mouth that used her entire back as a notepad.
‘Wow, your body has great moves. I mean you move great…I like watching you dance. I mean you dance really well. I…Damnit.’
Hyoyeon thinks her soulmate is an idiot.
But at least she can thank that one for telling her about one of her favourite hobbies. The other one is completely useless, and even more idiotic than the first.
Sooyoung is eleven when she joins SM Entertainment as a trainee, and as stupidly cliché as it sounds, her first day will forever be imprinted in her memories.
She remembers the cheap floorboards that were only painted to look like wood, and the sturdy metal door that opens into the dance hall. The mirrors are lined up on the sides, while cloud-patterned curtains cover the bare plasticine wall on the far end. But all of that is secondary.
The first thing that catches her eye is the dancing brunette in the corner of the room. Her limbs are flailing all over the place and she doesn’t look like she has a care in the world. Before Sooyoung can even register what she’s doing, her feet are already moving.
A million things are running through her brain, thinking up of ‘cool’ phrases to say, but the word-diarrhoea that comes out of her mouth is:
“Wow, your body has great moves,” she feels like slapping herself in the face, “I mean you move great…” Urgh, someone kill me, “I like watching you dance. I mean you dance really well. I…damnit,” well there goes any chances of ever speaking to this girl ever again.
To her complete surprise, the black-haired trainee next to the dancing girl just pouts and moans, “No fair! It’s been like four months!”
Before Sooyoung could even begin to ask what that was about, the dancer speaks up, “That was quick.”
Sooyoung’s world freezes, and instinctively she pulls on the collar of her shirt and looks over at her shoulder. Yep. Those are the words.
The dancer looks her up and down and says, “So you’re the stupid one.”
“Hey, I am not stupid!” Sooyoung protests indignantly, “…most of the time,” she relents before a huge grin spreads on her face, after all she had just met her soulmark. “Hi I’m Choi Sooyoung.”
“Kim Hyoyeon, nice to finally meet you.”
“Finally? You waited four months,” the other girl says, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Ignore Jessica,” Hyoyeon says before lowering her voice to a whisper, “She’s just upset because she has three, and she’s been here longer than me, and none of them are here yet.”
“I can hear you,” Jessica points out petulantly.
“So, what’s your favourite food?” Sooyoung asks immediately. It’s her go-to question when meeting someone new, and it usually gets weird looks as a response.
Hyoyeon however, just cracks up laughing. When Sooyoung asks why, she wordlessly pulls back the sleeve of her shirt for Sooyoung to see. Sooyoung just grins, she can tell that they’re all going to get along famously.
_______________________________________________)
Jessica’s never had a lot of friends growing up, due to being a painfully shy child. Always hesitant to talk to others, always hiding behind her parents when they’re bringing guests over or trying to introduce her to friends.
But for some reason, Hyoyeon and Sooyoung stick to her like glue and the three of them are rarely ever seen apart. Despite the fact that the two of them are each other’s soulmarks, they never make her feel like a third wheel. After seeing one of her marks, the one on the back of her hand that refers to her as ‘sunbaenim’, Hyoyeon declares that they have to start behaving like ‘eonnies’ and break the new trainees in, whatever the hell that means. Jessica just plays along.
Which is how she finds herself standing outside the training hall, Hyoyeon on her left, and Sooyoung on her right. All three of them had their hands on their hips and are trying their hardest not to crack up laughing while glaring down at the obviously terrified newbie.
“Hey punk, haven’t you around before,” Sooyoung says, and it’s hilariously evident that she is trying not to laugh, but the trainee doesn’t even notice.
“Um…” the poor girl says, and for some reason she decides to focus on Jessica, probably because she is standing right in front of the girl, “Hello sunbaenim, I’m new.”
Jessica hears Hyoyeon inhale sharply, she knows that both her friends recognise the phrase on her hand, but she could barely think. Instead of saying anything remotely welcoming, she blurts out the rest of their scripted ‘hazing’.
“That’s nice. Now take off your shoes.”
So they watch as Jessica’s potential soulmark takes off her sandals and walk into the room pitifully.
“…That was yours right?” Sooyoung checks uncertainly.
Jessica just blinks, “I…think so…”
“Great! One down, two to go,” Hyoyeon cheers.
Jessica smiles and couldn’t resist adding, “Gotta catch ‘em all.”
Yoona’s never really paid much attention to the shy girl that hangs out with Hwanhee. She was nice enough, but quiet and easy to overlook, especially by Yoona who bounces around to every friendship group with a huge smile and an adorkable laugh.
Three or four of the class normally takes the subway together after training. But this week Hwanhee’s got to stay back for extra lessons, and Jungmo went to buy a new guitar, so that just left Yoona and the shy girl.
Yoona, ever being the playful ‘choding’ that she is, bends low in a formal bow and holds out her hand to the shy girl, “May I have the honour of escorting the lady home?”
The girl’s eyes widen and her voice is slightly shaky as she replies, “Yes, I would like that very much.”
Yoona tightens her hold on the other’s hand ever so slightly, “You know, I don’t think I ever asked for your name.”
“Joohyun,” she says quietly, her lips quirk up imperceptibly, “Seo Joohyun.”
Not for the first time in her life, Taeyeon curses her alarm clock. For some reason it hadn’t rung on time (and yes, she did set it before taking a nap!), so now she’s late. Again.
Her instructor is going to kill her.
She sprints around the corridor, and spots something that makes her heart sink. Great. It’s the American girl, though luckily she just had one crony with her. Taeyeon still hasn’t forgotten about the three of them accosting her on her first day. New girl, wide-eyed from Jeonju, and what do they do? Embarrass her, that’s what.
City girls.
She did not have time for this right now. Unfortunately the girls spot her and one of them opens her mouth to speak—Taeyeon beats her to it.
“I’m lost and I’m already late as it is—
But the girl speaks over her and interjects snarkily, “Oh, so you do talk!”
“—can you just tell me where the training hall is!?” Taeyeon finishes, and then all three of them blink as each one processes exactly what the other just said.
“Brilliant, we get the midget,” the taller one says brightly, “She sings better than you,” she says to the American girl, which earns her an annoyed elbow in the ribs.
“I’m still growing!” Taeyeon bites back automatically.
Silence ensues as three pairs of eyes glance around at each other, unsure of what to say.
Taeyeon clears her throat, “Hi,” she says sheepishly.
“Hi,” the American girl says holding out her hand, “I’m Jessica Jung.”
“Kwon Yuri,” the taller one puts in.
“Kim Taeyeon,” and of all the scenarios that she had concocted in her head, this first meeting is definitely not one of them. Then Taeyeon remembers the rest of the marks on her, “Do you guys have…?”
“More, yeah,” Jessica nods.
“Have you met the other one?” Yuri asks hopefully.
Taeyeon shakes her head, “Nope, just you guys. But the other one…well…Actually, you can tell me what it says!” she says excitedly before turning around and lifting up her shirt a little bit, so Jessica can see the English rambling on her back.
Jessica takes one look at it and is too busy laughing for the next hour to be of any use.
Tiffany bounces back and forth on the ball of her heels nervously.
She can do this!
After all, there’s no point going to Korea just to loiter outside her dorm because she was too nervous to go in.
She grits her teeth and twists the doorknob.
The room that greets her is a mess. The walls are a nice light blue, and there are two beds on either side. One is neatly made, and probably hers, because the other one is basically a lump with a blanket thrown on top.
The lump moves and a head pokes out, “Five more minutes mom,” the occupant grumbles blearily, before opening her eyes, “Hi, you my new roommate?”
“Hi I’m Tiffany Hwang nice to meet you,” and the ramble that comes out of her mouth is pretty much indecipherable as she went on autopilot mode. She knows that she has a tendency to ramble when she’s nervous, but this is getting ridiculous even for her. Oh god, someone stop me!
When she finally stops, she barely has time to duck before a pillow goes sailing through where her head used to be. Tiffany frowns, she’s had a lot of responses to her nervous ramblings—usually eye-glazed and slack jawed looks, but never a pillow to the face before.
“You!” her roommate glowers at her, “Do you even remember what you just said!? Actually no, just read it off my back. My entire back! Do you know how hard it was to go swimming with this thing!?” and with that, she turns around and strips off her shirt.
Tiffany was starting to wonder why she even came to Korea. Sure, she’s met one of her marks, but the language barrier was a much more problematic issue than she realised. Communication was something she had definitely taken for granted back in the States. It was incredibly lonely to not be able to properly speak to anyone.
So when she heard that there was another American trainee here, she was understandably beyond ecstatic. Finally! Someone that she could talk to. Someone that would understand all the things she found so confusing here. All the honorifics, and the shoes, and the bowing, and the apparent taboo subjects.
She practically skipped to practice that afternoon with a huge grin on her face, and spotted the girl that Taeyeon had described. It was impossible to miss her really—short, cool eyes with a very indifferent expression, surrounded by a shorter blonde, and a taller athletic girl.
“Oh, American girl!” Tiffany exclaimed excitedly, clapping her hands together.
The girl glanced at her and had that stereotypical ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ look and mumbled, “Oh god.”
Tiffany blinked, thinking back to all the different horrible ways that she had imagined the situation to surround that line, “Huh…That wasn’t so bad.”
Platonic soulmarks weren’t something that many teens paid attention to back in sex-ed. After all, why would they when the tales of burning romance and star-crossed lovers were infinitely more exciting. What was a platonic soulmark, but a glorified best friend?
Hyoyeon realised that she couldn’t be more wrong. She and Sooyoung got along amazingly, but it wasn’t the same as her relationships with her other friends, like Jessica. There was something more, they complemented one another, and it was almost as if they possessed the same brain sometimes. Yet at the same time, there was no need for anything else, they were the closest friend the other could have. She didn’t know if that was because of the lack of a third—Jessica and Yuri never did anything before Taeyeon turned up (albeit, age could’ve been a factor there).
“I’ll show you useless!” Sooyoung’s enraged hiss snapped Hyoyeon back to reality, where she was sitting on the couch, watching her soulmate blowing some poor dude’s brains out.
“Ha! Suck it!” Sooyoung roared in triumph, trampling over the smug bastard’s limp body and kicking at his head, which lay disconnected, brains splattered against the brick wall, “Who says girls can’t game? Eat my f—
“—Do you really have to be this graphic?” Hyoyeon sighed as Sooyoung cheered, though she couldn’t bring herself to really be upset over it. She wasn’t her mother after all.
“I’m standing up for the pride of all female gamers out there,” Sooyoung defended with a grin. Her right hand reached out for the bag of Cheetos lying on the coffee table, her left continuing to manoeuvre her character through the maze of buildings.
“Sonuvabitch!” she cursed as her character got his head blown off.
“Ha,” Hyoyeon laughed, it was way too easy to get invested in these sorts of games, “My turn.”
“Wait, wait, gimme a sec. I need to kill this guy two more times,” Sooyoung muttered, she spotted the name of her killer in the little corner of her screen—‘Sunny25’. Brilliant, so either she was killed by a twelve year old—or else some college dude who decided to call himself a cutesy name to seem harmless.
“What happened to the second controller you had?” Hyoyeon asked, wondering why she was waiting for a turn instead of shooting stuff right alongside Sooyoung.
“Rage quit,” Sooyoung said simply. Barely a second after her character reappeared, his brain got splattered against the concrete. And then again, and again, and again.
“Ok, it’s totally my turn now,” Hyoyeon said as veins started popping out on Sooyoung’s forehead.
“Who the fuck camps in the re-spawn zone!?” Sooyoung exploded into her mic, “You juvenile shitheaded fuckwit! I bet you play COD, yeah, go back to playing COD!”
There was a silence in the game coms before a cheerful feminine voice answered with, “Nope, but I do have Pokémon. Relax Jeolla-do*, it’s just a game.”
Hyoyeon stared as Sooyoung’s hand slammed on the power button of her Xbox.
“Um…Wasn’t that your…?”
Sooyoung blinked, pausing for a tense moment, “Yes, oh hell.”
Yuri found that she was very different from her marks. Where she’s outgoing, Taeyeon is shy. Where she’s athletic, Jessica would rather walk and be late than do any bit of running. Where she’s reserved, Tiffany is opinionated, and never hesitates to state whatever she’s feeling. They’re four very different people, and they shouldn’t get along, but they do.
Perhaps it’s the youth, their shared dreams, or the innate excitement of finding one’s mark. They give and take, push and pull.
“Here, let me help you with that. It’s one, two, turn,” Yuri’s hands guide Tiffany’s hips as they sway to the beat.
“Yul, try this exercise, it’s great for the abs,” Tiffany suggested after seeing Yuri stumble back from the gym, sweaty and red-faced.
“Hey Sica, breathe from your diaphragm, it’ll help hold the notes. You’re still breathing from the chest,” Taeyeon explained to a rather out-of-breath Jessica.
“Taeyeon, you should check out this cream. It clears the skin right up.”
Just because they were each other’s marks, doesn’t mean that they would magically fit together seamlessly, like pieces to a puzzle. For every story of perfect happy ever afters, and greatest loves in the world, there were plenty about those who just couldn’t click. Sometimes they were just too different, or too similar to get along, headstrong personalities that clashed. Other times, people change, and they find themselves trapped, unable to be content and they wouldn’t know why.
No one knew the reason, none of the brightest minds had ever figured out how the marking worked. One day, you’d wake up with the person’s words on your body. There were no explanations, no mechanisms—none that could be documented or noted anyway.
Im Yoona and Seo Joohyun have no idea what they’re doing.
They don’t seem to match at all. It’s not just the obvious difference of one being loud and sociable, while the other is quieter than a mouse—they don’t seem to have anything in common at all.
Not even the reason that they’re there at SM entertainment as trainees.
Yoona wanted to be a dancer, Joohyun a singer. Yoona was energetic, always ready for another round, and while Joohyun was by no means lazy, she just didn’t possess the same zealousness for dance as the other girl, instead, channelling her energy into regiments of vocal exercises.
Joohyun was straightforward, always the one you could trust to tell it to you straight, couldn’t lie to save her life. Yoona was an aspiring actress, she could talk rings around a stranger and make them believe that her ‘poor great grandmother’ was dying and needed a kidney transplant.
Yoona loved dramas, and action movies—car chases and loud, spectacular explosions. She loved the gunfights, the escalating spectacles, and the fiery blazes that had her heart pounding. Joohyun preferred cartoons and fairy tales, cutesy animals and stories with morals, of elves and centaurs, and wizards and fables of old.
Yoona liked pop music. Light, fun, dance tracks that you could bop your head to, and spaz out with your friends, yelling the iconic lyrics out to the wind. Joohyun listened to ballads. Songs that revealed the singer’s soul, and touched the listener’s heart. Gentle rhythms that one could fall asleep, or listen to after a long stressful day.
Yoona attended school because it’s compulsory. She does averagely and managed to get good grades, all the while complaining about it like the rest. Joohyun strived for nothing less than excellence. She loved learning new things and hated the stereotype of entertainers being stupid—so she sets out to end that ridiculous notion singlehandedly—she’s show them, even if she had to stay up till 2am, with all her dance and vocal lessons in the way.
They hung out with the same circle of friends, but once they were alone, they could hardly say two words to each other. The conversations never come about naturally and they just don’t flow, often trailing to an awkward silence.
How fate decided that they were compatible, neither Yoona, nor Joohyun could understand.
When Sunny joined the company, she didn’t expect to be able to debut for years. Imagine her surprise when they tacked her onto a pre-existing group that was about to debut. A group that had trained together for at least two years, and had already been working on their choreography for six months. A group that was apparently split into three different soulmark bonds. Was her uncle trying to alienate her?
The first day was beyond awkward.
She’d come in, introduced herself, and gotten one enthusiastic wave (apparently the American girl was always excited), one formal bow (the maknae never strayed from her manners after all), and two half-hearted helloes out of the remaining six.
It was pretty clear how they divided up. The dancers went one way, and the singers went another. Dancers practiced their vocal techniques, while singers refined their dancing. Sunny wasn’t sure what to do. She needed to learn the choreography and learn the lyrics.
As she was watching the two groups, feeling more and more lost as they merrily talked, and laughed at inside jokes years in the making—Sunny wondered if she should just quit. The group that she was supposed to debut with, Sugar hadn’t gone through, and after five years of training, maybe she should just give it up. Her old company had gone bankrupt, and her uncle’s feeble attempt at fast-tracking her here was not working out. These guys obviously don’t want her here, and she could only imagine what kind of disaster discord between members would cause when they actually debut, and—
“Hey, wanna come practice with us?” the tallest girl asked with a bright grin.
“Um…Yeah, I…I’m kind of hopelessly lost,” Sunny admitted sheepishly.
“Eh, don’t worry about it. Half of our group are still asleep, but you probably already noticed that,” the tall girl indicated to one of the singers who looked like she was sleep-dancing, “Sorry, what was your name again? Soonkyu was it? I’m Sooyoung.”
“Sunny,” she said, a small smile appeared on her face. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“Sunny?” a strange look passed over Sooyoung’s face.
“What is it?” Sunny asked, wondering what was wrong with her chosen name. It was cute, and most importantly fresh. Much better that grouchy old Soonkyu, what on Earth had her mother been thinking?
“Nothing,” Sooyoung shook her head, “It just reminds me of this annoying person I used to play Battlefield with.”
Sunny blinked, “Wait…” she narrowed her eyes, she knew that accent sounded familiar, “Jeolla-do?”
“Don’t call me that,” Sooyoung replied automatically before her mouth dropped open, “No way…”
“This is just too weird,” Sunny agreed, pulling back her sleeve, “Do you know how much trouble I used to get in by my teachers for writing swear words on my arm?”
“Sorry,” Sooyoung said sheepishly, “but that’s what you get for camping in the re-spawn zone.”
“Hey lazybums! Let’s get practicing!” Hyoyeon called.
“We’ve got the set!” Sooyoung exclaimed, jabbing her thumb in Sunny’s direction.
*Sooyoung is from Gwanju, and she used to speak with a very heavy Jeolla-do accent. Hence why Sunny called her that.
Sorry about how long this took to get out. I was having major issues with everything and I’m still not too pleased with how this turned out…It’s completely all over the place…
Time changes everything.
It’s not often that we remember. After all, what’s ten days to a human? One thousand years is not even a blink in Earth’s history, but incomprehensible to us. Maggots to mayflies, mountains to dust. Mayflies to maggots, dust to mountains.
Time changes it all, Yoona and Seohyun know that more than most.
They were two distant ‘friends’—if you could even call them that, part of a larger group. Now they are two of the youngest, also part of a larger group. On the surface, not much seems to have changed. But after being surrounded by same-aged peers her whole life, suddenly Seohyun finds herself to be the youngest of nine.
Unnie this, and unnie that, and –yo ends up tacked onto every sentence. Yoona’s her closest age-mate now, and somehow, that just makes it easier to talk to her.
“You know, you don’t have to speak so formally with them all the time. They don’t really care about formalities,” Yoona tells her.
Seohyun shrugs, “I can’t really help it. They’re unnies,” she says, as though that explained everything, and when it came to Seohyun, it actually did.
“Well don’t do it for me,” Yoona says for the hundredth time, “Seriously don’t.”
Seohyun has to smile at how adamant Yoona is about it, “Ok.”
***
Yoona used to love being at the centre of attention. Whether it be the centre of her social group, introducing people to their future best friends, or centre stage as everyone watched her dance and sing.
Now she hates it.
“Attention whore always in the middle.”
“Whys the camera always on her!?”
Yoona clasps Seohyun’s hands and pulls her over to the middle of the stage with her. It’s almost a habit now, bringing the others along so she wouldn’t be alone with the members of Super Junior.
“Oh my god. What is she doing with Oppa!?
“Get away from him bitch!”
She can’t help it if they talk to her. They’ve all been friends for years and Yoona’s always had more guy friends, than girl friends.
“Ignore them,” Seohyun runs her hand down Yoona’s arm and whispers, “They don’t matter. They’re just jealous that they’ll only ever get to see their beloved ‘oppas’ on stage, while you know them as goofy, drooling, idiots.”
“Lucky me then.”
“She’s useless. Can’t sing, can’t dance. Why is she even in the group?”
“You’re a talented actress, beautiful, brave, and more hardworking than anyone would ever know. You don’t need them, you’ve got your real fans, and more importantly, you have us,” Seohyun’s voice is always soothing.
Yoona gives her a small smile, “I’ve got you.”
***
They call Seohyun stuck up. A social stick in the mud, rigidly proper and polite. They think she’s a total bore, but Yoona knows better.
She’s seen every side of Seohyun.
The clumsy klutz who drops everything she picks up.
The dedicated hard worker who will never fail to meet deadlines.
The fangirling goofball who hums theme songs of Sergeant Keroro and spazzes over Jack Sparrow (she says ‘Johnny Depp’ to the cameras, but Yoona knows better—it’s Jack Sparrow).
The determined organiser who would somehow make a timeslot convenient for all nine members to sit down and have a group talk, (or Therapy Nights as Yoona likes to call them).
The mischievous prankster who wouldn’t hesitate to get one up on her unnies—now Yoona has to admit, all eight of them had a hand in creating that monster.
“Hey, what are you thinking about?” Seohyun’s voice drags Yoona back to their bedroom, her hot breath sends shivers down Yoona’s spine.
“You,” Yoona answers truthfully, eyes roaming over the absolute fantasy that was Seohyun in lacy black lingerie.
Seohyun quirks an eyebrow and her lips pull up into a deliciously smug smirk, “Good,” is all she says before sinking her teeth into Yoona’s neck.
In the beginning, they were far from a good match, let alone a perfect one. It’s funny how time changes things.
______________________________________)
A certain quartet wouldn’t find anything funny about the test of time.
In the beginning they had an uncertain, but fairly smooth start. Four who were so different, but gelled so easily. It must be fate.
Then the division makes itself apparent—and really, it is inevitable. Even looking back, how would they have acted differently?
Yuri and Jessica had known each other for years, Tiffany and Taeyeon were roommates.
They were always going to split in those two pairs.
Sure, Tiffany got along with everyone, ‘girl-talk’ sessions with Jessica, surprisingly existential musings with Yuri, and of course, everything else with Taeyeon. Jessica and Taeyeon got along swimmingly, both vocalists who often trained together, and even Yuri and Taeyeon managed to find common ground in bantering about their ‘American best friends’.
But it was an unstable foundation, and eventually everything goes tumbling down. It wasn’t one particular thing, or moment that they could look back to and say ‘that was it. If I could go back in time, I could change it’. No, it was the little things that slowed down their well-oiled interactions and fracture it from the base up.
Suddenly it wasn’t ok anymore; no, you’re not excused, and every little thing grates on each other’s nerves. Their manager starts to get concerned, asks questions, wonders if something happened to make them all upset. But they can’t give him an answer, there’s no one problem to give, and marks weren’t exactly something a celebrity advertises. After all, you had to at least give the viewers some illusion that they could get with the pretty girl group.
It’s doesn’t end there. It never really gets resolved, because their private lives aren’t exactly private anymore. Everyone’s privy to the charade of perfect unattainable single girls that they manufacture, and they knew, eventually something will slip.
So one half of the four move out. Then one of them start dating, or perhaps it’s a publicity stunt, the others never know. Then another starts dating. And a third one joins the relationship party, and the remaining ‘single’ girl leaves.
It all goes to hell again and again, and they all stay tight-lipped, because by then, what’s the point? One’s cut off contact completely, another one has decided to drown herself in a new variety show, and the remaining two dip their heads in the clouds with a screen of ‘bestfriendsforever’.
So the ones who are left, and the one who isn’t, didn’t say anything.
