#karmami

@karmami

maybe it was his own lack of romantic relationships, maybe it was simply the fact that he kind of thought that both of his friends were quite attractive and would match each other pretty well. both of them were somewhat strange, the crazy ass bitch and the clingy, yet amusing idiot buddy, and to both dohwan had a rather good, and trustworthy relationship. so whenever he head over to the hydrus infirmary to get stitched up like usually, and caught them together (which wasn't that rare since a doctor and a nurse usually worked together), a rarely seen grin spread over his lips. minju was already in his 30s and karma wasn't that far from that age as well, so why not try to hook them both up. their offspring would probably be just as crazy (which was amusing and annoying at the same time).

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄, a thread featuring @karmami.

the filaments of fate often intersect in ways too unpredictable, and in some ways, he despises it. unexpected happenstances are the bane of his existence, if he were to be honest, and it might have factored in the arbitrary decision of moving into this island, apart from the fact that it’s so riddled with criminal corruptions to the point where it can crumble at any given time. there were, inevitably, hopes that there would be fewer occurrences of stumbling upon familiar faces, seeing that his social circles did happen to be the ones loving the atmospheric stifle of the metropolis, i.e., seoul. however, he’s been proven wrong far too many times: south korea is like a small cusp, its craters housing too many coincidences they don’t feel like ones anymore.

feat. @karmami

[ text ➤ karma! ] hewwo [ text ➤ karma! ] my dear assistant. good! morning! [ text ➤ karma! ] oh, it’s noon.....

Minju began texting Rina after downing two shots of espresso, and to say he was excited would be a magnificent understatement. Rarely did he have an entire day to himself, and even more remarkable was that it aligned with a certain date highlighted on his kitten themed calendar. A cosplay contest at his second favorite PC bang promised to further his clout, but more importantly, the winners would be given a years supply of free service - including all the instant noodles he could eat. Already on his way to Rina’s apartment Minju bounced down the sidestreets, dressed down in black sweats with a large duffel bag thrown over his shoulder.

[ text ➤ karma! ] karma. i’m so ㅠㅠ lonely [ text ➤ karma! ] please. go to this event with me? ouo [ text ➤ karma! ] heh. i’m at your house now, actually. so... 

seeking the aid of @karmami ; dated 2016

tw ; injuries, profanity, mentions of sex

‘ugh ... fuck ...’

he stumbled -- tripped, basically -- along the flat rooftop an apartment somewhere in yeonggi. he was dizzy from knocks to the head and his chest and a broken nose, his brain probably being fucking suffocated by the minute as he struggled to breathe as he made his further escape. he’d lost the guy a while back, a few rooftops away, but he knew it was only by the hair of a rat and sheer dumb luck. any other chance, and he’d probably be dead fucking meat right now.

that guy really packed a fucking punch, and was by no means a light-weight. he knew his shit and wasn’t afraid to cross lines. 

yeah, accepting the offer for that job seemed stupid now, but the money glittered brighter than the risks that jun damn well knew were involved. his ego can get fucking big at times, and he gets full of himself, biting of more than he can fucking chew. it’s like dudes thinkign they’re all that with their dicks and that their fuck game is as tight as whatever they think they’re fucking, but it’s actually shittier than they think. not that jun is a shit lay -- he’s had more than just a handful of fucks, thanks -- but y’know, it’s that whole metaphors or whatever. he thought he was better than he was, and got caught.

he got cocky, was what it was, and paid for it. well, sort of. he got away, but the pain sure ain’t seem like it.

‘better than being dead, suppose.’

eventually, figuring it’s safe enough to head back down to street level, he attempted a descent from a fire escape, only to wince in intense pain and slip, his strength in his arms failing him and his body landed heavily into a pile of trash.

great. just fucking great. he doesn’t need to smell like fucking shit now too.

but he does, and he groaned, pulling himself to his feet. he had to really find medical help soon ... where was he though? in the whole chase and escape, he’d lost his bearings. he just picked a direction to head down in the street, every step a struggle and every gasp so fucking hard, until he saw a sign for a clinic. the light kind of still seemed on? a bubble of hope swelled in him; he hoped someone was still in there, even though it was quite late by now.

‘fuck ... please ... someone be in there ...’