What will happen if Mamamoo were to be placed in alternate universes? Not strictly between four members, there will be cameos and ships to whoever I think of at the moment.
This prompt has been lingering for a long time. From watching Hwasa's story about how she gave her all when she's in a relationship; I imagine the man to be your typical salaryman. Pardon the poor grammar; happen to be less in that department. As for the rest will be ships wherever I feel triggered.This prompt has been lingering for a long time. From watching Hwasa's story about how she gave her all when she's in a relationship; I imagine the man to be your typical salaryman. Pardon the poor grammar; happen to be less in that department. As for the rest will be ships wherever I feel triggered.
She grasp his waist with less fervour. "You're trying to challenge a stereotype and for once, you have succeeded." She turn her look to the man in front of them. "I would advise you to just leave this premise. My friends wouldn't be too pleased to find a nasty thing lurking around." Her eyes that turn golden gives shudder to the drunken uncle.
The Salaryman keeps his eyes on the disappearing silhouette of the man for quite some time.
He turn his look by turning his head around.
"A for the effort." Hwasa put out her right hand to initiate the handshake. "I guess we shouldn't meet again after this but yeah, thanks. I guess I owe you now." She turn her head and start walking away.
"You owe me nothing. Don't even think about it."
The Salaryman shout it out loud enough to be heard from afar. Hwasa just smiled and go.
Disorienting lights, blaring music or, for now it turns into noises, and an unpleasant one, at that.
That's it. The liquor has to be put out of his system. He's about to reach for the rooftop while loosening his necktie when two hands snake from behind.
"Going so soon?"
The Salaryman give a sideway glance from the increasingly foggy lens. She's one of his clients for the day.
"I apologize, but give me time just for a bit and I'll be back with you shortly." Before he can explain further, a burly hand grabbed him harshly by the collar.
"You've been eyeing what's mine from the beginning. I don't think that's the best way to start a deal." The Salaryman bit his lower lip, frowning apprehensively. Someone's being mad jealous, and he has nothing but his fists that is sure packed with brittle bones -----
"For you, whiskey on the rocks. On the house."
It take quite a while for him to realize that the waiter, with her hair tied up in a bun, clean-cut uniform, move swiftly and walk away with the most familiar grin etched on her black-tinted lips.