#will not apologize for hating her because I have seven people who agree with me

[throughpatchesofviolet]

I've been saying this in my Project Moontuals server so often ... there are exactly six Sinners who can do anything they want and I'll forgive them. /lh

[penkura]

last forever [7/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: I apologize for glossing over and skipping fights and so much of this arc. Writing violence is not my forte, and I'd rather focus on the main relationship. We all know how One Piece goes anyway. I had to go back and refresh myself on some of the details, it's been a while since I read/watched Water Seven and Enies Lobby.

But also, I was SO NERVOUS writing a certain part of this, its NOT my usual style omg. But I needed to write what I did when it popped into my head. Just wait until a bit later, though omg. This stays SFW, I swear.

Taglist:

@misfits1a

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6]

When you finally make it to Water Seven, after your run in with the Foxy Pirates and Admiral Aokiji, it’s nice to be somewhere you recognize. Having only been here a few times when your dad had business and he chose to bring you and Elias, it was always your favorite trip to take when your mother would let you tag along.

The only person who knows this at first, apart from Zoro, is Sanji, when you choose to go into the city with him as Zoro watches the ship; Luffy, Nami, and Usopp go to exchange the gold for actually money, and Chopper goes with Robin to find a bookstore. Sanji laughs a bit when you tell him you’ve been here a few times, give or take.

“You may have been a bit sheltered, but you were well traveled!”

Laughing in return, you tighten your arms around Sanji, laying your head on his back as your Yagara ride continues down the water street, watching all the people. It’s been so long, you forgot how lively this city was.

“Mom would always try to make me stay home with her, but I’d cry and throw a tantrum until she let me go, normally because my brother asked for me to. I was a little spoiled back then by Elias.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Sanji looks over his shoulder to give you a smile, “You were the baby, that’s expected.”

“Tch, yeah,” scoffing, you don’t look up at him, “The baby no one but my brother really wanted.”

He doesn’t say anything, instead just patting one of your hands, which makes you fist his shirt in your grip for a moment before relaxing again. Sanji knows more about your life growing up than most of your crew, only Zoro really having the nearly full story. Even then, you’ve kept somethings to yourself, not because they were painful memories, but because they were some of the few good times you remember, they were more precious to you than any other memories.

The two of you quickly find the shopping district and purchase copious amount of local foods, Sanji reeling off different ideas for dishes as he catches sight of Robin, grabbing your hand to drag you along and around a corner he swears to you he saw her go down, but she’s nowhere to be seen and neither is Chopper.

Your doctor does find you both a few moments later, apologizing on your way back to Merry for losing Robin, but you tell him not to worry, she can take care of herself, she’ll come back later.

When you get back to Merry, the update Zoro gives you feels like a knife in all your hearts. 

“What do you mean Merry is unfixable?!”

“Just what I said,” Zoro doesn’t fully look at Sanji, instead making sure you’re all right with the news, though the frown and starting of tears tell him you aren’t, “A shipwright came to check and said so.”

You hate the idea of having to give up Merry, whether that’s what Luffy’s decided yet or not, you aren’t sure, even as Nami returns and the situation gets worse with Usopp having been beaten by the Franky family and the two hundred million beri being stolen from him. The money didn’t matter, what mattered was Usopp, the rest of your crew going to find him and Luffy but Nami clinging onto you to stay with her, which you do to keep your friend safe.

The rest of the day is a blur, after Usopp is brought back, his fight with Luffy over Merry, and how quickly the rest of you leave to a hotel in the city. Some would probably think it’s strange that you’re holding so tightly to Zoro the whole time, rarely letting go of his arm, but you feel like you need some stability with how things have changed so much in just a day. You all still don’t know where Robin’s gone, you plan to go with Sanji and Chopper later the next day to try and find her.

For now, Zoro doesn’t mind you holding onto and staying by him. He tries to understand, it’s likely you’re thinking back to your parents, having told him of how they’d argue regarding you mostly, Elias being your safe haven who would remove you from the situation for safety.

Part of you doesn’t want to sleep that night, but Zoro makes you, forcing you to lay down. Really you’re worried you’re going to wake up and everything’s been a dream, none of your friends will be there, but Zoro, who you fully are coming to believe can read your mind, pokes you in the forehead before sitting by your bed with his back to you.

“Just sleep. I’ll be here in the morning.”

Every part of you believes him, you’ve got nothing but trust in Zoro.

+!+

With everything that’s happened involving Robin, your crew, Galley-La, and the Franky family, you’re surprised you’re even still on your feet as you follow everyone into Enies Lobby. You’d barely slept the night before and have been awake since early the previous morning, ending up following Sanji to the sea train that was taking Robin from you all. You fight alongside him, Franky, and Usopp, er, Sniper King, to try and reach Robin, only to lose her again in exchange for your own lives.

After the Rocketman train catches up to you and the four of you board it, Nami throws a towel over you since you’re sopping wet from the rain, and you start to draw yourself back from everyone for a few moments. You just need a bit to catch your breath, to keep yourself from crying due to how tired and upset you are. It’s going to be another sleepless night as you listen to everyone try and plan how you’re all going to attack the government island, you want to rescue Robin as soon as possible, even for the selfish reason of being able to sleep properly. Zoro tries to keep you out of the plan discussion, making you sit down and rest as much as you can, giving you water and sending you the slightest of glares if you try to get up too soon.

“Stay there, wife,” he’s quiet while he tells you to stay where you are, trying to keep his slip up of calling you his wife from those who don’t and shouldn’t know, “Rest until we get there. We’ll get Robin back.”

A slight smirk hits your face as you look up at him. “Trust her now?”

Zoro shrugs a bit, leaning on the wall beside you. “I guess. I trust you and Luffy more. But if you don’t rest, it doesn’t matter who I trust.”

Ah, that makes sense, why he’s trying so hard to make you take a break, other than you’re being up for so long now.

You’ll be useless in the fighting if you aren’t as prepared as you can be, if you haven’t had any kind of rest and keep worrying over Robin and everyone else. Even when you get there, convince Robin to let you all rescue her, most of your body wants to give up and stop, but you keep going, keep running to save her with everyone else.

You don’t really mean to get separated from everyone when you go to find the CP9 members who have keys that could open Robin’s sea prism stone cuffs, but it happens and you’re left defending yourself.

A few Marines get a little too close for comfort, but you cut them down fairly quickly, before going the other way from where you came and laughing to yourself at the same time.

I’m starting to take after my husband after all.

+!+

You’ve all returned to Water Seven after rescuing Robin from the government, you’ve maybe given her numerous hugs since even though its only been a couple of hours, and your unfortunate burial of Merry that’d left most of you in tears but all of you heartbroken. So much had happened that you had to step away from everyone for a bit, while there were discussions of what to do next although Luffy had once again fallen asleep from overuse of his powers.

Truthfully you wish you could go to sleep, you’ve been awake for well over twenty-four hours at this point, it would be nice to curl up in a bed and sleep the next several days. Its times like this that make you really wonder if you’re meant to be a pirate, maybe you should just go home and do what your parents want.

“Hey, you okay?”

Then Zoro finds you like always, quietly speaking to keep the others from eavesdropping, though Nami tries, a hand on your shoulder, this time he seems to grip a little tighter than before. You know him well enough at this point, there’s just the slightest hint of worry on his face as he looks at you, brows furrowed just a bit. Zoro knows you just as well, you step away like this when things start to get to be too much, you just need a few moments to clear your head and breathe, and since you’ve had that, you give him a real smile.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you really?”

You nod, Zoro doing the same in return as he knows to believe you, before surprising you by gently taking you face in his hands, as if he’s making absolutely sure that you’re telling the truth.

Having lost track of you while he’d gone on to fight the CP9 members to get Robin’s key, his mind kept wandering to where you’d gotten off to, if you were safe, if you were fighting someone or multiple marines, he really hoped you weren’t against a CP9 member. You had to stay safe, no matter what, you and Robin were his biggest concerns at the time. When you randomly ran into him, Sanji, and Usopp, he was surprised by the relief he felt to see you were a little banged up but otherwise perfectly fine. He’d made you let him carry you on his back the rest of the way, until you got to the ship and were able to safely be on the ground again. He’d barely let you out of his sight since then.

Zoro doesn’t make whatever worry he had about you obvious, only looking like he’s fighting to find something to say while he holds your face and you continue to smile, tilting your head.

“Zoro?”

“Glad you’re okay.”

Giggling a bit, you nod before wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, your exhaustion and the fears and worries you’ve had the last few hours finally coming to surface while you hug Zoro, making him do the same lightly, to keep you from embarrassing yourself in front of the others while you cry quietly, though you know they wouldn’t care or judge you.

You’re glad Robin is back, everyone is safe and alive, you all may have lost Merry but you’re coming to terms with it.

But most importantly to you, Zoro is safe, and to him, you’re safety is just as important, even if he barely voices it. The last thing he wants is for you to be harmed, in anyway by anyone.

He'll be especially damned if it’s by his hand so he comforts you the best he can, until you’re calmed down enough to rejoin your crew, staying beside him.

He doesn’t make you release his hand as you grip onto it, instead squeezing it back whenever you do so. When you lean into his arm later on, he lays his head against your own, telling you to go ahead and sleep, he’ll get you to a bed. You make him promise to stay with you that night, and he does once everyone goes to turn in, not leaving your side for even a second.

He’ll make sure you stay safe.

+!+

Zoro isn't sure how you two ended up away from the rest of the party. Too much alcohol, yes, but his tolerance is higher than a normal person's. He knows better than to wander off like this, but you took him by the wrist and walked away with a new bottle of sake in your hand, convincing him that it would be good to get away from the noise and everyone else.

You don't normally drink as much as he's seen you do today, he wonders if it's the alcohol that's causing you to giggle incessantly and steal glances at him every bit. Not like you had to steal glances, if you two had been talking you'd be looking at him.

But you'd barely said a word apart from when he asked why you were dragging him away from everyone else.

“Just want some quiet time, husband.”

Zoro never stops you from calling him husband, he's not sure why. Your marriage wasn't real, he should stop you from calling him that.

He should, but he never does.

He doesn't now, even as you lean against him and say “my husband” over and over again. It's only the moment you crawl yourself into his lap that he feels the need to stop you, despite knowing you're drunk or at the very least tipsy enough to not know what you're doing.

“Get off.”

He still doesn't push you off, he's not that heartless.

“Nooooo…” You whine and start to nuzzle your face in his neck, sighing happily after a moment. “My husband~”

“Ain't actually your husband, you know that.”

“But you're my husband still.”

“Stop it before someone sees.”

You pout, but lift your head up to look at him. Zoro can tell more so now that you're definitely drunk, you're more emotional than he thought you'd be. He always expected you to be a giggly or chatty drunk, not emotional to the point you're pouting but also looking like you might cry.

“You should...kiss me.”

“What.”

You nod, leaning closer and touching your nose to Zoro's, making him glance away from you just the slightest bit from the proximity despite the bit of pink across his cheeks that you can see. This is the closest you've let yourself get to him ever, even the nights you sneak into his bed from nightmares, you've never placed your face so close to his.

“You didn't kiss me…when we got married.”

“We're not actu–”

“I'll kiss you then.”

You close the gap for the quickest of seconds, kissing Zoro so fast it's like it didn't happen. Despite your drunk state your face burns with a blush and you apologize, you're not sure why you did that. Must've been the alcohol controlling you or something, that's your excuse. You're both quiet but neither of you moves for a moment, before you decide to get up only to have Zoro hold you in place by your shoulders. His brows are furrowed and you're not sure what's going on in his mind, before he pulls you back into a proper kiss, none of this tiny peck of the lips thing you'd just done. He kisses you fully and for more than a brief second, it's several seconds before he pulls away, leaving you both breathless and you personally shocked.

Shocked for just a moment before you take his face in your hands and kiss Zoro a third time, which he returns, surprising you when he wraps his arms around your waist and brings you closer to him (how you could even get closer when you’re already on his lap, you don’t know). You refuse to let him be the one to end this. You don't want this to end, it needs to continue, even if just for you. Even if all it does is make your feelings for him stronger, even if Zoro later tells you it was a mistake and he still held no romantic feelings for you, despite that fact he's so willingly returning such affection.

Even though, a moment later, Zoro pushes you away gently by your shoulders, neither of you able to breathe properly for a moment, catching your breath as your slowly sobering mind tries to play catch up with what the hell just happened.

You kissed Zoro, and he actually kissed you back. He didn't shove you off or yell at you or anything like that. He accepted it and reciprocated without a single word. You figured he would fight you about this, that he wouldn't accept it so easily.

Is this the progress you've been hoping for?

Once you've both caught your breath, Zoro doesn't even look at you, instead moves just enough that you get the hint and get off his lap finally. It's a few minutes of complete silence between the two of you, that has you confused. You thought things were changing, that you two were getting closer than you had been even before Luffy brought you along.

The fact he'd just kissed you back for several minutes it felt like, you thought maybe Zoro was going to confess to you, but when he still doesn't look at you, you attempt to bring him back by taking his hand, which he lets you for a moment before gently pulling his arm back to himself.

“Zoro…I…I'm sor–”

“I think…you should go to bed, [Y/N].”

“Do you,” you gulp a bit, looking away before you finish, “do you want to come with me?”

“No. That's not a good idea.”

You know this, who knows what trouble you'd bring to yourselves or the crew if you two went to your room together? Whose heart would be broken the next morning if you took things too far when you weren't fully sober? You didn't know, the thought of either of you being hurt made your heart ache and you couldn't bear the thought.

So, instead of trying to convince him things would be fine, you really just wanted to sleep with him next to you, you nod, standing up and dusting yourself off, grabbing the bottle you'd brought with you and looking at Zoro again.

“Are you–”

“Gonna stay here for a bit.”

It's all you can do to nod again, apologizing for pushing things too far before you turn and leave, doing your absolute best to keep your tears to yourself as you return to the party, giving Nami a small smile when she asks where you've been, promising her you'd just gone off to spend some time alone.

She doesn't believe you and intends to get all the information she can later, but she does give you a hug that nearly pushes you over, and says she'll beat up whoever made you sad, especially if it's Zoro, earning her a laugh before you return to your room at the hotel.

I wish he had come with me…

Truthfully you don't regret kissing Zoro, not even a bit. Despite his rejection of your feelings, the fact he so willingly kissed you back made you believe that maybe things were changing in your favor.

Perhaps it was because he was drunk, or maybe he was sober enough that he knew exactly what he was doing, especially when he denied returning to your room with you.

Either way, even with your heart aching from another rejection, it feels like you're making progress with Zoro and your relationship with him, little by little.

For his part of it all, Zoro stays in the same place you'd left him for nearly an hour, trying to calm his own racing heart after that exchange with you.

How he never thought of kissing you before, but now he didn't want to do anything but kiss you (it's the alcohol talking, he swears it is). You tasted like the sake you'd shared and whatever sweet wine Nami had convinced you to take several drinks of. A combination he never expected to be so nice, something he didn't think he'd want to taste again. The moment he thinks about it again his heart skips a beat, and Zoro puts head in his hands in an attempt to stop such feelings.

No, no, shit I gotta stop this.

He sighs and runs his hands through his hair, pulling it slightly to get those thoughts out of his head. Any focus on romance, on you he wanted out of his head. There's been too much of it lately, the want to stay close to you, to pull you away from everyone else, to give in and indulge himself in you alone. He'd told you nothing was going to happen and he had meant it.

But then you had to go and kiss him. The most innocent of kisses, a quick peck on the lips but he'd gone and pulled you back for more almost instantly. Then you made it worse by returning it again and holding his face this time, he didn't know why he enjoyed that so much. This whole thing was ridiculous, there's no reason for these feelings!

The only thing he could do to get some time to think was to push you away, refuse to join you when you went to bed. Who knows what would've happened if he had gone with you? Of course, he knew your thoughts were innocent, you'd shared a bed multiple times when you turned to him after nightmares, it was highly unlikely you were expecting anything more than to just go to sleep and wake up with a hangover, Zoro by your side in case of alcohol induced nightmares.

And he had made you go to bed alone.

That realization, for some reason, causes his heart to ache and Zoro has to finally admit what he's been trying not to, over the last several months, even with the more domestic thoughts he's allowed himself to entertain at times. Something he was hoping would fade away, would disappear over time like it always did for others, the feelings he's finally realized were going to be more long term than he expected.

Damn it all…I'm falling for my wife.

+!+

Contrary to what many may think, Sanji doesn’t particularly like being privy to romance gossip, not the kind involving his crewmates especially. He thinks that such things should be kept between a couple, so when he accidentally hears you telling Nami and Robin how you and Zoro finally kissed the other night, he’s less than pleased to hear it ended with your swordsman pushing you back, not taking you back to your room, or even staying with you for the night.

How unbelievably rude of him! To steal your first kiss, and not even walk you back to your room!

That’s what Sanji would’ve done. If any woman kissed him, he’d walk her back to her room or home, at the very least, to ensure she was safe and nothing happened. Zoro not doing that, when you were inebriated, when you could’ve been hurt or worse, it angers Sanji more than anything Zoro has or hasn’t done thus far. He views you as his best friend, he hates the way you and Zoro seem to get closer to a real relationship, only for something to happen or someone to intervene and ruin your progress. He’s been cheering for you from the start, ever since you confirmed your feelings for the swordsman, only to now wonder if it’s worth it for you.

If Zoro really is what you want and makes you happy, why does it seem like all you do lately is suffer?

Sanji doesn’t fully mean to give Zoro the cold shoulder this time, or even the suspicious looks he throws at him, but Zoro noticed quickly, before anyone else, and confronts him.

“What the hell is your problem, cook?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit, you’ve been giving me worse looks than normal.”

Sanji bites down on his cigarette, finally dropping the knife he’d been holding to face Zoro with a scowl.

“I heard you and [Y/N] kissed the other night—”

“Damn it.”

“—and you didn’t bother to take her back to her room?”

“What, is that my job now?”

“As her husband it should be!”

“I’m not really her husband! Damn it, this is stupid.”

Zoro goes to leave, but Sanji stops him by grabbing his sleeve, holding on and telling him to stop.

“Look, asshole. I could care less that you two are married, real or not, or that you kissed her,” Sanji grits his teeth, finally letting go of Zoro’s sleeve, “But if you break her heart, I’ll never forgive you, mosshead.”

While Sanji turns back to continue prepping for dinner, Zoro stops for just a moment. The two have had fights before, that’s obvious to anyone with a brain, but they’ve yet to fight about you. And he wonders why it's only now, after you kissed him, that Sanji seems so hell bent on protecting you, or maybe he's always been like this, it's just more on display as you and Zoro start to get closer.

“What’s your deal with her?”

“She’s my best friend, mosshead. I just want her safe and happy, even if it’s with you.”

He doesn’t say anything in response, leaving the kitchen to find you lounging with Nami and Robin, the three of you in some conversation when you look up and see him, giving a slight smile that Zoro returns with a nod, before heading off to the crow’s nest. What Sanji last said is stuck in his head, partially wondering if you told your cook what happened that night in Water Seven or if he was good at guessing, but that’s not the biggest thing he wonders about.

Would you really be happy with me, of all people, [Y/N]?

+!+

“All right, wait, so, you honestly kissed him?”

“Nami don't make me repeat myself.”

Nami laughs while Robin smiles, both amazed you got up the courage to kiss Zoro of all people. Yeah, you were tipsy at the time, even though Zoro still believes you were fully intoxicated, but you couldn't help feeling bad about it afterwards, just for a bit.

“I didn't fully think it through. I just…I don't know, I wanted to kiss him so I did.”

“I don't think he's too upset about it then,” Robin nods a bit, taking a sip of her wine, “You said he kissed you back, if he didn't push you away right off the bat, it sounds like he was positively receptive to it.”

“Yeah,” Nami quickly agrees, giving you a grin, “Sounds like you're getting yourself a boyfriend.”

“I don't think he wants that.”

“Well, what do you want? Maybe you guys could talk it through.”

What did you want? You thought you knew, to be a world renowned swordswoman, to help Luffy become King of the Pirates.

But what did you want from Zoro? Just to be with him, to stay married to him? Do you want to maybe have a family of your own with him one day? You'd had those thoughts when your feelings first started surfacing, after your impromptu wedding at that backwater courthouse. You'd stopped entertaining  thoughts for quite a while, but now, they're coming back more often.

More importantly, does Zoro want any of that with you?

“I…think… I want to be with him forever…”

Hearing Nami choke on her own drink, you give her a concerned look before she looks at you with wide eyes.

“You sound like you're in love with Zoro!”

You don't say anything for a bit, even with Nami and Robin looking at you like they're expecting you to deny such a thing. There was no way you were in love with Zoro, not at all. You two hadn't dated, your marriage was only temporary, it was meant to end as soon as you had something from your parents. You two weren't going to last forever, you weren't going to have kids together, live out your lives as a married couple. It wasn't happening.

No matter how much you may want it to. That's what Nami and Robin have come to think over time, from the things you've said to them.

“I am, Nami.”

Despite Nami's new outburst and saying she knew it with Robin laughing, you don't feel any kind of worry or fear about admitting your real feelings for Zoro. Neither of them would tell, your secret was safe as could be.

But for you, all you do is smile to yourself.

You love Zoro, more than anything. You've thought so for a while now, but finally voicing it aloud gives you a sense of peace and happiness. Whether Zoro ever returns your feelings or not, whether you two come to act as a married couple or not, you're more than happy to even stay by his side as his crewmate and friend. Even if you have to love him silently, you'd do so.

You'll hope he comes to love you back one day, but you won't force anything on him.

“I'm in love with Zoro.”

~~

Note 2: Me writing this: now KISS.

After writing: omg they kissed

[epickiya722]

I do not know if it was you, or another blogger that made a character analysis of Gojo that made me like the character and discover more about him through the manga.

While I never read the manga before or watched the anime, I had been exposed to it by my friends and some BNHA bloggers. Back then, I found Gojo to be overhyped (discount Kakashi) while liking the animation(?) style, bit still no interest.

BNHA and its Endeavour Redemption arc in the doing was tiring me to the point that I stopped reading it and manga altogether. For mayne six months or so, until now, at least. I randomly found your blog last week , and it got me a new hyper fixation 😃. You got me to start reading JJK (Megan cos playing also helps).

I bought Number 0 and Number 1 of the mangas. Only to remember midway in Number 0 that Walmart Kakashi will be snapped in two like a Kit Kat🥲. I saw that leak in one of the BNHA blogs, and I didn't mind it back then since I wasn't in the fandom, but Lord, now it sucks.

Anyways, all this long rant to say that I like reading your posts.

Gojo, rest in pain, I guess?

Probably was someone else, I don't write much analysis posts about Gojo. I think once or twice I did, I can't recall. Probably reblogged one though you saw!

I don't know, they're really just two different characters to me. Also... I was never really an active reader or watcher of Naruto like that (just very familiar) so when I first saw Gojo, Kakashi didn't register to me at all.

Like, I did not get similar vibes at all. And it actually annoys me that people will be like "He copied Kakashi's flow"! Kakashi ain't the only white haired, face covering character out there with magical eyes, y'all stop. 😆

Even funnier when, by this point, Gojo has probably been unmasked more than he has been wearing something on his face and switches up what he puts on his face. Kakashi been wearing the same mask for...? Also, didn't it take years for Kakashi's whole face to be shown or something? Took like seven episodes for Gojo to show that face.

**

I always been a fan of Megan's music and then when I found out she was into anime I was like "YYYYYEEEEEAAAAH". She cosplayed as Miruko one Halloween and it made my year. I am a former believer that Miruko would vibe to her music.

Just seeing other Black women being unapologetic fans of anime (or anything) does wonders for me and I hate it when people act as if it's such a foreign idea to understand. Honey, we can have interests, too, like everyone else. It's normal.

**

I always try to be careful about spoilers for anything I'm into. Like, I can talk about a chapter that happened two years ago, but I'll still mark as a spoiler because I know some people don't read Mangas or even if they do haven't caught up to that specific part.

That actually what set me off when Usher cosplayed as Gojo because he literally put "rest in peace, Gojo" or something along those lines and the amount of people who weren't even aware of 236... like bro, come on.

I knew it just had to be a marketing tactic because I know damn well Usher ain't seen JJK a day in his life and how convenient it is he comes out with that cosplay around the time when "Daddy's Home" becomes a fairly popular song used in Gojo's edits. I can't go watching one video on YouTube without hearing that song play when Gojo pops up. And even if he has... WHY WOULD YOU TAG IT LIKE THAT?!

Oh, but Megan definitely doesn't know any of the characters she be cosplaying, alright... okay... 🙄

I'm just going off on a whole tangent here, I apologize for that. I've been sick for like three days and just woke up from a nap. 😅

**

Also, thank you! Glad you enjoy my posts!! Anytime anyone says they like reading my posts, I still get shocked. They're really are just random thoughts I been having and really I'm still learning grasping the characters and story myself. And this is just for any. I don't even for them to get read, let alone for anyone to actually agree with me. I guess because, at the end of the day, I really just needed to throw a thought out there before I lose it or keep rethinking about it over and over.

[griffynbird101]

On the fandoms hatred for Irina Denali:

So I see A lot of hate in the fandom for Irina Denali. I think this is unjustified lemme tell you why;

First; people blame her for abandoning the Cullens in Eclipse. I would like to point out that this was the entire Denali clans decision not just Irina, she couldn’t make a decision for the entire coven especially since she isn’t the leader. Let me show you how it looks from the Denali’s perspective; Laurent is a vampire, even if the Denali are vegetarians they weren’t for a long time and they probably don’t think badly on non-vegetarian vampires just like the Cullens don’t, it is natural for vampires to prey on humans. 2. The Denali respect the law. The Cullens do not, and their refusal to follow the law is ultimately what started this whole mess in the first place. 3. The Denali agree to help the Cullens if the Cullens help them get revenge. The Cullens do not agree, therefore they basically say “If you don’t help us we won’t help you”.

To summarize: Bella is a human, by the law she should be turned or killed and as long as she’s human the Cullens are breaking the law. And many of the Cullens (ex: Rosalie and Edward) plan on continuing to do this. Laurent would be following the law by killing Bella, and he would be following his natural instincts as a vampire. Laurent wouldn’t have attempted if the Cullens had turned Bella like they were supposed to. So from their perspective, Laurent was unjustifiably killed and the Cullens are to blame. They ask the Cullens to rectify this by stepping aside and allowing them to take revenge on what the Denali see as an inhuman species which hate vampires for being vampires and are therefore their natural enemies to begin with. They even throw a cherry on top and say; “Hey if you let us do this, we will turn a blind eye to your law breaking and help you keep your human alive.” The Cullens refuse and still have the audacity to ask whether they will be helped. The Denali make the decision to let the Cullens deal with their own problems. The Cullens refuse to help the Denali in what they see as justifiable revenge so why should the Denali help the Cullens.

THEN, the Cullens have a hybrid child. This is not against the law, and in fact if they had went to the Volturi with this the Volturi wouldn’t have punished them for it. The Cullens have not broken the law in this, and in fact hybrids are better at keeping the secret than regular vampires because they are closer to human. The Volturi may have wanted to observe Renesmee as they did with the immortal children before outlawing them but would have ultimately failed to claim Renesmee as an immortal child because of her incredible self control and growth rate. So far, the only real gripe the Volturi had with the Cullens is their refusal to turn Bella human which they have now done as promised.

They don’t do this. So when Irina goes to FIX things with the Cullens she see what she believes can only be an immortal child, something that is not only illegal but something she has a personal history with. This is it, to Irina the Cullens have crossed a line with or without Laurent. In this, Irina is the responsible one who goes and informs the Volturi that the law has been broken.

(also I want to reiterate that a rational person would not have gone down to “give the Cullens as chance to explain” the world doesn’t know about hybrids. From Irina’s perspective the Cullens have broken the law in the worst possible way and created an immortal child. Going down to say “Hey I know you broke the law” to group of seven vampires would be signing her death warrant. When Irina discovers the truth she apologizes for the misunderstanding and takes full responsibility for her actions.)

And what do the Cullens do when they find out the Volturi think they have an immortal child? Not smooth over the misunderstanding, they choose to amass an army. The whole reason the Volturi show up is because the Cullens have not only broken the law, but are actively challenging their rule. THIS COULD ALL HAVE BEEN AVOIDED IF THE CULLENS INFORMED THE VOLTURI.

So then, Irina is executed. But only on false information that was fed to her accidentally by the Cullens. And because the Volturi needed to show that there would be repercussions for amassing an army. Irina couldn’t possibly have known the truth about Renesmee.

Everything that happens to the Denali is the Cullens fault. And if I were the Volturi, I would wipe out the Cullen clan at the first chance because they do not respect the law or understand the full scope of their actions, and in fact they’ve gotten away with a lot simply through Carlisle’s friendship with Aro.

[thebroccolination]

Thank you thank you thank you OMG thank you so much for making your post about Krist! I know it takes a lot of effort!

I remember seeing the post about him being Homophobic, and I took it at face value because I couldn't be bothered to look into it, and because I never really saw him in any other productions.

I'm so extremely happy to have been given this opportunity to rectify my opinion on Krist, and as a queer person myself I entirely agree with your point about him being "vetted" by other queer people. It holds immense meaning to me.

I can't call myself a fan of Krist, mostly because I've barely seen anything with him. But as a queer person, it hurts me to know that someone who provides safety and warmth to the queer community was/is being bashed by a community I am part of.

So, thank you for spending time and effort to compile and share your thoughts, and the corresponding evidence and discourse related to Krist. And thank you for being upfront with your bias, and for acknowledging the various opinions present in the discourse.

PS: I skip plenty of heterosexual intimacy scenes because I feel kinda disconnected from them and they're not really doing anything for me. So even if Krist was being dead serious with that point, I feel that's fully valid. If you're watching something for entertainment and enjoyment, isn't it fine to skip intimacy scenes if they're not your cup of tea???

Ahh, thank you so much for this, Anon. It truly, genuinely means a lot to me. :')

I really wasn't the best person to make that post. I don't speak Thai, I've only been here for three years, and I've followed BounPrem more closely from the beginning, so there were a lot of Krist-related clips and links that I needed help finding. But I made it because I hoped it would serve as a jumping-off point for new fans and for people who'd be willing to see things from a different perspective.

There's just such a massive dissonance between the image interfandom has painted of Krist and the loud but sweet guy I've followed for the past three years. There were a lot of clips and anecdotes and stories I chose not to include in my thread/post purely because they were subjective and I didn't want to distract from the factual stuff I could find (social media posts, interviews, etc.). When you're filmed as much as he has been for the past seven years, you can't really hide who you are in a general sort of sense. And Krist really does just seem…very kind in general.

The reason I even started paying attention to him in the first place was because of a video posted by a Thai fan. He didn't have time to greet fans outside the GMMTV building because he'd gotten stuck in traffic and he had to rush to something, so he did a very quick hello/wai to the fans waiting for him and promised to come back soon. When he did, he noticed one of the fans was missing and asked the rest where she went. The remaining fans said she had to leave because she had to catch a plane (iirc) to her home elsewhere in Thailand, and Krist looked instantly guilty and remorseful that she'd waited for him. I think he even said, "Why didn't she say so?" sort of rhetorically, and I really do think he would have taken the time to talk with her if he'd known she had to leave soon. I just admire him for remembering them all well enough to notice that one was missing. That sort of kindness stands out to me.

[small rambling section]

(I apologize for using your ask for such a long post, Anon!)

Seeing the vitriol Krist gets from international fans really disappoints me. Even when he posted in support for Pride Month last week, he had dozens of international fans jumping down his throat attacking him for it because they assumed it was disingenuous even though he has been publicly supportive of the queer community outside Pride Month for years.

To no one's surprise, that level of hate just isn't present in Thai fandom. And if Krist were the monster he's been portrayed as, wouldn't Thai fans be just as, if not more, vocal about it? I mean, I'm sure Krist has his share of Thai fans who don't like him for whatever reason, but the only people I see throwing that IG story around and saying Krist should kill himself are international fans.

So.

That's a fun reputation we have.

Personally, I don't live my life in pursuit of punishment for strangers. If I don't like a celebrity, I don't give them my attention. I don't interact with them. Like, I don't know what their deal is, what they're going through. I may judge them privately, but putting that toxicity into public forums just invites toxic responses, and that's not what fandom is for me.

I truly believe that Krist was never homophobic in any way. I think he was just Very Tired of all the harassment and stalking he and Singto had to go through at a very young age before GMMTV was posting any kind of "hey everyone calm down maybe" notices.

I also know now that there's a lot more context and nuance behind Krist's early career mistakes that I still don't know, because I only got here in 2020 and I don't speak Thai. Since BMF starting airing, though, there have been older fans sharing my thread on Twitter and my post here on Tumblr, and sharing more details. Some are things I suspected, like that because SOTUS kicked off the BL wave, Krist and Singto faced a metric ton of homophobia themselves. It wasn't just fans, either, it was the country as a whole.

I don't know so much about Thai BL even after three years in this fandom, so it's bizarre and disturbing to me how enthusiastically non-Thai fans like to jump in and crucify Thai actors with an air of superiority. Even the official subtitles on the series we watch aren't reliable, and yet people think that auto-generated translations or translations done by fans from one second language into another as a hobby to help other fans get the gist of what an actor is saying is some irrefutable evidence that validates a campaign to tell actors thousands of kilometers away to kill themselves?

Like, I dunno, buddy, isn't uplifting the actors you do admire more worth your energy? And not in a "my actor is better than yours" way, but in a genuine "this thing this person did made me happy" way. "I can do both!" Yeah, I guess. But why? Harassing people helps no one. It's performative activism at best, and at worst, you're just bolstering the culture of cyberbullying that has led and will continue to lead people to take their own lives. Krist has suffered from depression. He has been to four different therapists. He is a real person with family and pets and a history of kindness that means he's quickly adopted by most of the people he works with. If you're going to take up an axe against someone, make it a politician or a lobbyist or someone who doesn't regularly use his platform to speak out for queer rights.

[end rambling]

I may spend more time on Twitter while Be My Favorite is airing just because I've seen a decent amount of Recreational Krist Hate and not enough positivity to balance it out here on Tumblr. Since his fanbase is more active on Twitter, there's been a lot of positivity to enjoy. <3

But that's why I was so happy to get this message from you, Anon. (I hope it's clear that none of my rambling up there was directed at you.)

Thank you for being kind enough to reach out. It really made the time and energy it took to make that post feel worth it. :)

[dogmomwrites]

Seven Snippets

This tag came from @traveler-of-realms, so thanks for including me in this game!

Gonna pass it on with soft tags to @papercutsunset, @crypticcodexcreations, @andromedaexists, @oh-no-another-idea, @pandawriterstuff, @krokuswrites, and @briannaswords, as well as leaving an open tag. Rules—share seven snippets from your WIP/s and tag seven people

.

One  Riley risked a glance under the truck to see that the men had split up. He could see three pair of boots moving into the street to circle around the truck while the other man kept Riley pinned down with constant gunfire. Not a good position to be trapped in. At least, not normally. 

Dropping his backpack, he quickly reached inside and pulled out a small oval of dark green metal. The last one he had. He pulled the pin out, waited a second, and rolled it underneath the truck. 

“Is that a fucking grenade?” one of the men asked just before it went off. 

Two  Maybe...maybe he shouldn’t have let the men kidnap him. 

Aaron sighed, the sound lost to the helicopter’s windstorm. It seemed like a good idea at the time. 

Three  “I don’t think we need to sit around for three days,” Riley had said. As much as Jimmy hated it—as much as he hated agreeing with anything Riley said—he couldn’t find anything to say as refute. One stretch of road work had somehow brought them to Oregon far ahead of their time schedule, and while Jimmy had been grateful they were saved more hours in the car, he began to wonder if sitting still for many hours and contending with Avalanche’s unending energy was preferable to admitting that Riley had a point. 

It wasn’t that Riley was unintelligent. He was just very annoying. And any time Jimmy was forced to side with him never went unnoticed. 

Four  Aaron had no idea how to respond to their story. They didn’t appear concerned by that, however, and he let them move on to a new topic as though the previous one hadn’t been a roller coaster in its own right. Meeting his mother’s eyes, he silently asked, I’m not the only one with vertigo, am I? 

She hid her laugh well, and the brothers didn’t notice. No, you’re not. I honestly don’t know what else to expect from them at this point. 

Five  “Awoo?” Avalanche asked, and Jimmy froze midway onto the chair. 

“No, I wasn’t watching a...dirty video? Who told you I was watching porn?” 

“Rawr-y.” 

“Fuck you, Riley!” 

Six  She threw herself from the steps into Aaron’s arms, her trust in him perhaps stronger than he was; if Riley hadn’t been there to steady him, they would’ve hit the ground with maybe enough force to lower Aaron’s mood. 

“Awoo!” she cheered him. 

Aaron grunted as he struggled to maintain his grip while shifting it to something more manageable. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said. 

She chattered rapidly at him. 

“Yeah, of course. You can have all the pinecones you want.” 

“Awoo awoo awoooo!” 

Laughing, he turned to Riley for some help and together, they lowered her to the ground. She gave them no assistance, and made no effort to get up, instead choosing to roll onto her back and wriggle her joy at all the pinecones she was going to make Jimmy bring home for her. 

Seven  But then Jimmy had come back in, sleeplessness wearing away at his emotions. Turning his anger into sorrow. Bringing him back to apologize, to break down, to remind Riley that there was nothing he could do to help. And on a horrible level, Riley had resented him for it. Even as he’d held him, even as he’d gone downstairs with him, even as he’d stroked his hair until the medication finally put him to sleep, it had been there. Burning in his chest like an ember he couldn’t put out. 

 Because holding onto his anger gave more comfort than holding onto a stuffed leopard. 

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

Hi Kerry, here are some Nice Ask Weeks questions for you!!

1. What about TK’s character interested you the most in exploring his backstory, and what made you decide to explore what it would have been like had he had a little sister?☺️

2. If we were to get a flashback in s5 to a point in TK’s life, at what age would you prefer the flashback to be set?

3. What about the show made you join the fandom and is this the first fandom you’ve been in?:)

I wish you a wonderful weekend🌼☺️🌼☺️

Hi Mar! 😍💝

Oh my.... first off, I want to apologize for how unhinged the answer to this question might get and also in advance if I give you a bunch of information you didn't want- The biggest reason is the cliche reason of write the fic you yourself would want to read. I came into the LS fandom when season three had just aired, and I adored TK and Owen's relationship in the first season, and the third season did this SO dirty - like there were literally so many times they could have, should have included a scene for them and just didn't- and because of this/the Gwyn stuff, when I went looking for sweet Strand family feels fic, if it didn't have a publication date of 2020, was some version of, "Gwyn is the ONLY parent TK has ever known and Owen was not there for TK once, IN HIS LIFE, they were basically STRANGERS the day TK didn't come to work and Owen clocked that as something being wrong - and I respect everyone's right to write whatever fic they want. I would never tell any of those writers I didn't agree with them, because they had their opinion and I had mine (also I'm sorry I make way too many references, please throw something at me) but in the show The Good Wife, there's a judge who makes every lawyer preface their statements with "in my opinion" and I was like is that a nifty idea! Because I'm not going to say my take on their relationship is THE right one because it's just how I see it. Before I started my long fic I was just writing cute Strand family stories that are shorter because I didn't find those, so I wrote them. Also (and there is a very long, unhinged post that I don't think I'll ever be brave enough to write about how much it grinds my gears they killed Gwyn off) but I truly hate that they killed her off, I don't think it was the right decision or that it has served TK's character arc, and also, I think Gwyn and Owen are such strong characters and they both love their family so fiercely. Which brings us to the cliched reasons - the things of write what you know and only you could write this fic this way, I was like pfft so made up, and then I spent a year writing a fic over 200,000 words with no end in sight about children of divorce who felt very loved by their parents... and realized that yes, this was written by a child of divorce who felt very loved by her parents. Like in the show, I was also seven when my parents divorced (albeit for a much, much more cliched of a reason) and something that I really strongly see and relate to is that despite what has happened, TK loves and has always felt loved by his parents, and has never had to question that. It doesn't mean they haven't let him down and it doesn't mean that everything's perfect- it's like an early episode of Scrubs where their parents all visit and Dr. Cox tells JD, "Every one of our parents does considerable emotional damage". This is very true, and (I swear I'm trying to be concise and just failing) and I know that so many people's parents fail their kids in this respect and they don't get to have that relationship, but if you do have that bond that the Strands do and that love is never questioned (especially as TK has stated his parents were there for him any time he relapsed), then you look past the times they didn't measure up because they mean so much to you; and I really see that in TK's relationships with both his parents. And TK is just so sweet and so caring and if there are too many characters on TV that are an only child I will be like .... but what if they were a big brother/sister? (Me watching the first three years of teen wolf: why do none of them have brothers and sisters lol) Also because (this probable doesn't come as a surprise given that it's 50 chapters deep lol) writing TK as a big brother is really, really fun for me - because he would be the kid who was so excited his mom was having a baby and wanted to help as much as he could and tell his whole class it's his baby - TK Strand is a character that is very fun to write at any age

I would love to see a flashback to the beginning of his relationship with Alex; just because I'm so curious about what it was about Alex that made TK want to propose, (this would also be hard because it would be so different from his relationship with Carlos, but it's a very curious time to me)

It's the first fandom I've been in like this; probably yes, cause I don't think any other fandoms (like Teen Wolf) I was actively a part of like wrote for it- I did not expect to love this show this much - I'm a big parks and rec/west wing/outsiders fan and was like Rob Lowe as a dad- well sure- and then by the time the title card aired I was like "WHAT IS THIS SHOW" like it still amazes me how fleshed out almost every character is in the pilot/first season. Like - I hadn't written anything for 13 years before I started watching LS- but the characters they provided us with were too good to ignore

Thank you for the ask 🥰- and sorry I ramble too much 🫣🫣

[ay4kshalatus]

a faithful encounter (genshin au [spy x family])

the story follows a spy who has to "build a family" to execute a mission, not realizing that the girl he adopts as his daughter is a telepath, and the woman he agrees to be in a marriage with is a skilled assassin.

note: the loid forger in this au will be aether, albedo and xiao! anya forger as klee, qiqi and paimon and yor forger is you!

the reader will be pronounced as she/her for the plot.

edited - important notice 📢

operation strix: “we all have a side of ourselves that we don’t show anyone. Whether it’s with friends, lovers, or even family, we hide our true feelings and true nature with fake smiles and deception. and that’s how the world maintains its temporary peace.”

aether [codename: viator]

• our aether here is undoubtfully very skilled!

• not just by camouflaging, he is talented with weaponry and physical combat.

• this man can be aloof as he wants but he’s goofy af.

• being a spy takes risky decisions. he doesn’t like playing with people’s heart just to get the information he needs but he’s a type of man to say “it is what it is.”

• finished with his other mission earlier, his superiors assigned him with another one. his next assignment is he have to get close with a member from a party and to look out for their ulterior motives.

• “to do this, you must first get married and have a child--”

• his inner dialogue of him reading the news paper cut off, spitting the coffee he drank on the paper in surprise.

• “excuse me-”

• before he could react further, he continue to read the news paper. he must enroll his child in his target’s school and infiltrate the social gatherings that they organize. he have a week to look for a wife and a child.

• “how to bore a child in seven days!??” idiot really mistook it.

• man have the crowds looking at him weirdly. his face went fuse.

• settling up for his mission, buying an ordinary house and looking for the candidates to act as his family.

• under his real name “aether” with occupation psychiatrist is his new identity.

• as he begin searching for a child, he choose paimon!

• to his surprise, paimon’s maturity surpasses her age.

• ‘child-bearing mission complete. should i look for a mother? having a family is the last thing a spy wanted..’

• AND yes how could we forget? paimon can read minds.

• ‘he’s a spy?! well.. this is concerning..’

• and yes. paimon is already aware from the start that she’s just using her for his mission to her dismay. she wanted to get out from here. but for now, she have to take her time slowly convincing aether to not send her off again.

• when aether was about to get some essentials, paimon dashed to him and clings on his leg.

• “oh! oh! adventure! can paimon go with you??”, “no paimon! it’s not an adventure! i’m going shopping.”

• ended up tagging her along anyway. their relationship really improved in small amount of time. they sometimes bicker.

• aether have to buy some manuals for parenting. they acted much like siblings than father and daughter..

• and just like anya, paimon doesn’t like studying.

• “paimon hates studying! why do I have to study??”

• “paimon. i need to know your academic abilities for the exam! you need to go to school.”

• “what?? you taking paimon to school? why do paimon need that!?”

• “because children like you need to go to school so that you can assist us once we’re old.”

• “but-..”

• “no but’s!” aether being a strict parent, paimon finally studied.

• but she’s not that smart as he thinks. luckily, aether help her with it and manage to nail the exam!!

• as the eden college required both parents to be present at the interview, he began to look for a wife!

• and that’s you! you’re fit for his requirement!

• he met you just like loid met yor ofc at boutique. he got startled at your sudden appearance.

• “um… mister. you’ve been staring at me. did you need something?” manz gone red and apologizing you non-stop. he can imagine his sister teasing him.

• both of you are about to ask about partner issues but once paimon showed up, she immediately understand the situation.

• “father.. are you going to ask her out?”, “paimon! why so blunt??”, “come on this is your chance! you wont die single anymore!”

• thanks to paimon, you both become a couple! in disguise of course.. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

• alas, there’s another mission he have to take. stopping a group of smugglers on saturday, the same day of your friend's party that both of you need to attend.

• on that very day, aether is busy for his mission and trying to finish them quickly so that he can make it to the party. you on the other hand, dead ass waiting for almost 1 hour. the streets are cold also so you have to go inside first before you catch cold.

• while at the party, your friends are talking to your back that you might lying about you having a boyfriend. trying your utmost best to calm dawn from thinking of murdering all of people here, aether finally showed up with his bleeding forehead.

• “i’m sorry that i’m late for the party! i’m aether, y/n’s husband.”

• then he later realized his mistake. his cheeks went red in embarrassment. damn aether, you have a lot to learn.

• as he takes you home to avoid any drama and questions, the smugglers tracked him down.

• being an idiot he is, he told you that kicking his patients (which is the smugglers) is a new medical treatment. yes, you believe him ofc. you don’t know much about doctor stuffs so you just shrug it off.

• “i’m sorry! i’m an amateur, yet i just treated a patient!”

• yep. you both equally dumb to each other.

• and aether is in awe. aether stans for woman and respectable af. everything you do makes him kneel before you. “that’s amazing! you sent him flying!”

• then when you requested to make their marriage as official, he uses a grenade pin as a wedding ring while the smugglers behind the generator they’re hiding blown up.

• the only thing you could thought is ‘damn, we look so cool.’

albedo kreideprinz [codename: calx]

• our mysterious boy albedo is a variant of loid forger!

• but the difference is he’s a prodigy and not really expressive.

• so when he was assigned to have a family, he just continue on reading like nothing happened.

• he use his real name with occupation: doctor.

• finding a kid who can write and read is the real issue for albedo. the orphanage he went is full of uneducated children. well aside for that certain kid named klee.

• klee acts like her age. she have the standards that albedo needs but her character is too bright for his introverted self. and clearly she needs a lot to learn.

•he needs someone who's tolerable too, but as if he have a choice anyway. he adopts klee.

• klee sometimes call albedo “big brother” or “mister albedo” in accident. looks like he needs to work with his father figure.

• but she manage to call him father at the end after the incident where she was hold as a hostage.

• oh! and their relationship getting along so well!

• albedo have soft spots for children! a husband material fr.

• luckily for albedo, klee doesn’t mind studying for her entrance exam. the downside is the entrance exam is coming near and klee doesn’t have enough time to familiarize what she studied. he have to get a copy of the questionnaire with the help of his informant, timaeus.

• klee nail the exam too! albedo grown tired from teaching klee but it was all worth it (big thanks to her telepathic abilities).

• now time to look for a wife.

• when he’s on the boutique with klee, he found a decent woman with in his age. he thought that she would be the one to become his wife but then when you walk in, his eyes fall on to your figure.

• albedo is a man interested with the unusual so when he looks at you, he finds you captivating and intriguing. the way he failed to sense your presence when you entered the shop and the way you behave. and your appearance too!

• albedo doesn’t really care about people’s appearance but yours contain a lot of possibilities. you’re quite built in his opinion.

• “uhh.. sir? do you need something?”

• “pardon me but what i’m looking for is found.”

• and just like that, he excused himself from the woman he talked earlier and made it to your side.. so as klee.

• “father! klee is done measuring with her uniform!”

• your attention finally lay on the lovely father and daughter.. and damn you never seen someone so handsome before.

• ‘he’s illegally handsome… sad to say that he have a spouse. i was about to ask him if he could pretend as my boyfriend for the party..’

• and klee easily reads the situation.

• “oh! does father looking for a mother for klee? klee was so sad about it! klee misses the presence of a mother..”

• albedo was caught off guard that klee understood the circumstance. he seem not flustered about it but a shade of pink is present on his ears.

• “klee…”, “huh? you’re looking for a wife?”, “oh- uhm.. yes.”

• mission success!! albedo have a wife for his mission! give a thanks to our matchmaker klee!

• both of you made a proposal first, attending on the party that you’re in him as your boyfriend and later you’ll be the wife.

• the party will start at saturday night but so as his incoming mission.

• he’s trying to finish it early so he can make it to the party with timaeus' assistance.

• “i apologize for being so late! i’m albedo kreideprinz, y/n’s fiancé.”

• geez… he almost mistook you as his wife. fiancé is much convincing.

• when your friend tried to embarrass you in front of the guests especially to your fiancé, albedo is pissed of their behavior towards you. are they really your friend?

•and the way you catch the tray make him speechless. he’s right about his observations about you being different.

• as he takes you home, the smugglers followed both of your tracks. they try to trip albedo’s car.

• and you who almost got off from your seat. “wtf- who are they?”, “probably one of my patients who wants a piece of me.”

• you’re confused af. what did he do that turned his patients to this?

• idk if he did that purposely...

• mischievous af. (favorite word for today: af)

• then gurl when you show some moves, he’s much convinced that you’re no ordinary. he’s very interested with you now!

• oh! when you requested to make their marriage official, your reasoning is valid and he doesn't mind so he take it. plus it makes it easier for his mission.

• as albedo want to admit, he look forward to get to know you.

alatus [codename: xiao]

• very aloof. he’s fit for the role as a spy. you can say that he’s another variant of loid.

• plus he’s very skilled with combat and flexible as a cat. you can find him jumping on walls or jumping on the air.

• is also known with his vigilance. his superiors rely on his ungodly abilities.

• despite having a cold exterior, he’s easy to fluster.

• just like when he was tasked to have a family. his face is redder as a tomato.

• “you must first get married and have a child--”

• he chokes on his coffee. “i’m sorry?—“

• “since the deadline for enrollment is approaching, you’ll be given one week.”

• manz so red maybe in both anger and embarrassment and rip off his newspaper. “he wants me to have a child within this week??”

• the passengers look at him, concerned. xiao really questioning his life decisions and wanted to bury himself.

• he use his real name with occupation: physical therapist as his identity!

• he also have problems with finding a kid for his mission. luckily that he found qiqi.

• like paimon, qiqi is aware that he’s using her for his mission. she'll do her best too to change xiao’s mind.

• qiqi is so well behaved. too behaved and reserved. xiao finds it concerning the more he observe her.

• he doesn’t have any problems with her too. she obeyed him.

• still, he have to work with her memorization. she have a bad memory.

• but with her telepathy powers, she passed the entrance exam.

• ahh the moment we’re waiting for. searching for a wife time!

• xiao also doesn’t like the idea of entering someone’s life just to get an information or two.

• but for the sake of peace and unity between countries, he have to do it.

• he got startled with your sudden appearance and blushed. aiyaya, he never seen someone catches his attention. he’s seriously observing you from head to toe, checking if there’s any red flags but nothing. still, there’s something about you that he can’t fully decipher.

• then xiao’s eyes landed on yours. he looks fascinated by it and the way it shines. man.. he didn’t realized that he fell for you at first sight.

• and your reaction mirrored his. you have a fine man staring at you!

• you’re even scared to say anything. his beauty and being under to his cat-like gaze makes you feel shy. “sir… do you need something?”

• xiao realized his position he’s in. his cheeks went red again and trying to mutter up some words.

• “i-..uhh .. just..”, ‘thinking if I could make you my wife…’, “i apologize for my behavior..”

• qiqi who is finished with measuring for her uniform, just watch how their interaction goes. later, she approach xiao and straightly asked him to ask you as his wife.

• “qiqi want’s this mother… qiqi wants father xiao ask her to be qiqi’s mother.”

• damn help this poor man. he’s malfunctioned.

• you’re flustered to have someone wants you to be their mother.. to be THIS handsome man's wife.

• feeling like eternity, you finally spoked. “you,, don’t have a wife..?”

• “uh.. no. my wife died years ago,,”

• and then there we go! both of you become a couple in disguise! little did you know that part of him wants to make it official. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

• you keep it on mind to give some treats for qiqi later as a thank you for being their little matchmaker.

• and! he have a mission on the same day and time of your friend’s party. you really need to have xiao to pretend as your boyfriend on the party to keep an image but he seems pretty late. you go inside first before you get a fever from waiting.

• minutes later, xiao made it to the party at last!

• like aether, he introduced you to the guests as his wife.

• both of you became red but mostly xiao, from telling the different information.

• our boy xiao is also pissed when your friend is trying to embarrass you! he was about to defend you but you girlboss it, catching the tray with your foot.

• is very impressed. can tell that you’re not trained with defense. but convinced himself anyway that you trained defense.

• he takes you home before your friends bad mouthing you in front of him. he really can't stand them.

• while sending you home, there's a car following you guys and it turns out that it was the smugglers who he took care off during his mission.

•he just told you that he doesn't know who they are when you asked.

•realizing that there's no use to get out from this predicament, both of you got out of the car to lure them in the alleyway.

•damn you're simping when he show some move.

•"that was hot.", "huh-"

•let's just say that he did the same when you saved him from the ambush.

•staring at you for a while and drags you again out from the smugglers sight.

•when you requested him to make their marriage as official for mutual benefits, he didn't hesitate to accept it.

•grabbing a grenade and using the pin as the ring (because the ring he got fall off from his pocket-) while the smugglers got blown up behind you both.

•very iconic af.

•and you're so inlove.

•for xiao, he needs time to understand his feelings.

yikes. didn't know that i make it this far. but hey! i got some quite of content! the spy x family got me thinking about genshin boys and us doing mr. and mrs. smith vibes. yes i have fun writing aether's partkdksisksizk

as usual, don't be afraid pointing out my mistakes so that i can fix it!

[spoiledmoonbliss]

So, there has been a reckoning in wangxian/mdzs fandom since yesterday, when twitter fandom found out that popular author (AO3 user Shinocchi) was suspended from AO3. And it turns out it was because she was behind what seemed to be a cyberbullying campaign against other authors on AO3. Which she did on her own (well, and some of her followers. But mostly by herself). She created sockpuppet accounts (fake accounts), which she used to stalk and leave hateful comments, harass authors when their fics were becoming increasingly popular (more comments, kudos and bookmarks). She did this to drive these authors off of fandom. She is a STALKER, and she did severe emotional damage to others. Why? Because their fics were becoming too popular? Because she didn't agree with wangxian characterization? Proof shows that the one thing all of these authors had in common was that their fics were becoming popular. As soon as this happened, they were attacked by multiple accounts

Geragrena, rikke, cafecliche and yiqie are only a few that have been mentioned that were her victims.

This came about thanks to AO3 user sweetlolixo, another popular mdzs author who was also targeted and harassed by Shino. She compiled pages of proof that all of the people leaving hateful comments on her fics were coming from ONE person. Don't believe me? She created a thread here where she published a google document with everything that happened and all the proof, plus the response from AO3 that resulted in them banning Shinocchi.

Here's the link to the thread, which also includes the google doc. https://twitter.com/sweetlolixo/status/1430169788064616449?s=21

Turns out she's been doing this for over seven years, when she was in the dramatical murder fandom. Thread of other victims that came forward: https://twitter.com/lwjilysm/status/1430274984061059072?s=21

And what was Shino's response? She blamed "her sister," then privated her twitter account. Today, she became public again and said she would take responsibility for all the people she hurt and apologize. However, people confronted her about her crappy apology and she ended up deactivating her account.

Thread of shino's apology since people can no longer read it ever since she deleted her account: https://twitter.com/wwxprime/status/1430250007882387456?s=21

TLDR: AO3 author Shinocchi was removed from AO3 after another popular mdzs author, sweetlolixo, compiled evidence proving that Shino was a cyberbully who created fake accounts to harass and leave hateful comments on other fics, while pretending to be multiple people. So if you're looking for her fics and find them deleted? This is why.

UPDATE: Found screencaps of Shinocchi's apology from this morning, where she said she would take responsibility (well, she still blamed her "sister") and apologize to everyone involved.

A little less than an hour later (I think?), she deactivated her account and flounced to her website (which is private), where she made a post saying that she's leaving fandom and that she won't apologize because nobody wants to hear it.

She made a post on her (private) website, where she basically doesn't take any responsibility, and instead implies that most of the people dogpiling on her are "those who held grudges" against her, and that she won't "admit to faults that aren't hers." So no apology from Shino to all those affected. Pretty different from what she posted this morning on twitter, isn't it?

[ladyanput]

Ok so this is the third time that I'm sending you an ask tonight. (or is it night time in your country?) I'm being annoying right now but whatever. So I've been cackling about those salt fics you wrote because they are just amazing. I have a request, though it is up to you to write it or not. So, can you write a salt fic where someone got an interview with Ladybug (probably Aurore) and then they ask her why they replaced the old heroes like Rena Rouge, Carapace and etc. and LB is just like I don't work with dumb shits or somethin'. Then there is also a new Black Cat (Probably Luka, Felix, or Damian) because Adrien here is an asshole and this fic is saltier than salt water. Then LB also insults Alya's blog and their school. Those foolish mortals get some lawsuits and the rest is up to you. (This request is probably messed up since it's already midnight here and I can't sleep.)

You're never annoying, I just apologize that it took me so long to get to you. I do hope you don't hold it against me, darling.

A one on one interview with Ladybug was basically unheard of if you weren't the Ladyblog or Nadja Chadwick. Ladybug had made it firm that she wasn't a celebrity, she was a hero. She wasn't there for clout, for attention, for fame or fortune. She just wanted to keep Paris safe.

That's was Aurore admired about her. And why she felt queasy as she sat across from the heroine, who had given her of all people an interview. But she got ahold of herself, taking deep breaths as the cameraman began counting down. And when he hit 'one', she put on her best smile and straightened in her seat.

"Hello Paris! Welcome back to 'Latest Buzz'! I am your lovable host, Aurore Beauréal. Today I am here with a very, very special guest, our very own heroine of Paris; Ladybug!"

Ladybug beamed right at the camera, but gave a shy little wave, giving away the nerves she obviously had.

"Now, Ladybug, I'm so glad you requested to be on the show. You know, I initially thought I had misheard when Estelle told me. Usually you're not big on personal interviews." Aurore gave her full attention to Ladybug, but keeping the bright, friendly smile and perfect posture.

"Well, I tried a few times actually. But when I did, none of them were really great experiences." Ladybug admitted and both girls immediately thought of that disastrous Face-to-Face interview. It left a bitter taste in their mouths. "My issue is that misinformation has been spread around a lot recently. It's made me realize that I need to find more trustworthy sources."

"Ladybug. I vow on my integrity as a host and Estelle's reputation as a journalist that we are people who research facts. We don't ambush our guests, we respect them." She said, placing a hand on her heart. Ladybug saw an honesty in her eyes that she hadn't seen in such a long time. It honestly made her feel.. Respected. "Now, Ladybug.. We both know you have a lot of fans. A lot of admirers. False information can be spread so easily these days, which sources specifically are you telling people to avoid?"

"Well.. With Face-to-Face, I found that I was entirely ambushed in that interview. I wanted to speak about my hero work, but instead Nadja kept trying to needle her way into my personal life. That picture she had shown in largely out of context; when Dark Cupid attacked and Chat Noir was under his spell, it was the only way to get him free."

"Yes, I remember watching that. I'll be honest Ladybug, I felt bad for you." Aurore bit her lip, but smiled a bit when Ladybug nodded. "I mean, Chat Noir wasn't helping either. He seemed to be trying to push this narrative forward that you two are a couple."

"And we're not!" Ladybug burst out before she could stop herself. Everyone in that studio could hear the utter stress and frustration in her voice. "I've begged and begged Chat Noir to stop with the flirting, the 'telling people we're dating', everything! I just wanted him to focus and he couldn't seem to do that!"

"Is that why you replaced him? Because of his slacking off and refusing to take anything seriously?" Aurora sat up an bit straighter, her eyes going wide.

".. Not exactly, no. It was a bunch of issues that eventually piled up and boiled over." Ladybug made some gestures with her hands, trying her hardest to find the words but just letting out a long and pained sigh in the end. "I do enjoy my new partner now. He is more serious, more stable. I know he won't go off and pout if I deny something he wanted. I needed an entirely new team, as a matter of fact."

"Well I am going to say, on behalf of everyone here, that we're glad. We swear on our integrity as journalists that if such rumours were to ever surface again, we will do our proper research." Aurore beamed and many of the staff and crew behind the cameras nodded and gave Ladybug their thumbs up. Honestly, it warmed Ladybug's heart to see such support.

When had been the last time someone had supported her like this? Sure, her parents supported her, but her friends..? Her peers? No, none of them had supported her in a long time.

"Speaking of research, I'd say to stay away from the Ladyblog." It burned to say it but it had to be said. Alya had crossed so many lines it wasn't even forgivable at this point. She had gone too far, had betrayed too many.

"Wait, what?" Aurore nearly jumped out of her seat but quickly composed herself, taking a deep breath. "Pardon me Ladybug, but the Ladyblog has been a vital source of information since the very beginning."

"And I'm not denying that!" Ladybug quickly held up her hands, her eyes desperate now. "But please let me explain. The Ladyblog was amazing in the beginning, but like all things, it started to go astray. It was things like trying so hard to find out my identity. Trying to push that narrative of that whole superhero couple thing.. Ladyblogger Alya Césaire has proven time and time again that she is not trustworthy. I mean, I thought she was my biggest fan. Why does she keep pushing my words aside?"

Many people who watched the interview would agree. If you idolized someone, respected someone, truly looked up to them.. Why would you push aside their words, their wishes to try and push the narrative you're so convinced is true, but isn't there?

"And don't get me started on the whole Lila Rossi craze she seemed to be on now." At Ladybug's mention of Lila Rossi, both Estelle and Aurore had to keep from rolling their eyes. They knew all about the girl.

"You speak as if you are quite frustrated, Ladybug. What an odd reaction to your best friend." Aurore leaned forward a bit in her seat. Everyone else got to the edge of theirs. Ladybug only shook her head, looking utterly defeated.

"That's the thing, she isn't my best friend." It took everything to keep from satin that she hated her, that she had taken away her friends and her life. "The only times she's met Ladybug is when she's been akumatized, which has been around six or seven times at this point. And the other things she's claiming are so outlandish! Saving Jagged Stone's kitten from a airport runway? Clara Nightengale stealing her dance moves? And the Ladyblog just posts it out there, claiming every single story is true. I'm just scared that people are taking this one hundred percent seriously. That's why I had to drop Rena Rouge and Carapace from the team as they believed Lila Rossi over me. They didn't even try to confirm these rumours! And it hurts to think that one day, someone will take Lila's words seriously and get hurt. What if she says it's safe to dip strawberries in bleach? Or tells someone that she found a way to tame some kind of wild animal? Someone would get hurt because they believe her story and try it out for themselves!"

"My goodness, I can definitely see how that is a problem. Misinformation is very easy to spread thanks to the internet, so you being worried is a very relatable thing." Aurore nodded, then tilted her head ever so slightly. "Ladybug, do you know anyone who has taken her word seriously? This is besides the Ladyblog of course."

Ladybug closed her eyes briefly, mentally debating with herself before finally giving in. These things needed to be said.

"Collège François DuPont. Now I wasn't there personally, but I heard about this situation and looked into it. The entire situation was appalling. Apparently a student was found to have cheated, assaulted another student, and commited thievery. But the thing that stuck out is only one person saw her do all of these things; Lila Rossi. No investigation was done, no questioning other students. This student was then expelled immediately. Her teacher and her principal didn't even give her a chance. And from what people have been saying, Miss Rossi's behaviour is actively encouraged in that school. She misses countless days, no, months of school, claiming she's traveling. But when she was supposedly in Achu, doing whatever it was she was claiming with Prince Ali, I was fighting her akuma here in Paris on Heroes Day!"

"I was at school the day that happened. I knew the student that happened to. They're the nicest person in that school! Never a bad thing to say about anyone, always willing to help! I agree with you on how things were handled, it's a level of incompetence that is baffling." Aurore's hands slowly curled into fists as she remembered it all. She slowly shook her head. "The principal, their teacher, their class who backed up Rossi. It must have hurt them so much, made them feel so alone."

"That's why I want people to be more careful with what information they take as fact. It's so important, because stuff like that can lead people to a desperate place. They feel alone, like the entire world is against them. I wouldn't have let the principal and the teacher get away with that gross negligence in their jobs." Ladybug leveled her gaze directly to the camera. "People of Paris, please listen to what I am saying. I am here to be a hero, to protect you from the terror of Hawkmoth and to defeat him. But please, do not be like Principal Damocles, do not be like that teacher and her class at DuPont. Do your research, look up your facts. Do not let a liar lead you to do something dangerous and hurt yourself as well as others. Respect each other, talk and be honest. I swear on my life that I shall do the same. You are the people I swore to protect and I love. I am saying this all to protect you. And I'll hope you'll all forgive me for not protecting you sooner."

...

The interview rocked Paris. Ladybug speaking so openly about her frustrations, about the discrepancies in the Ladyblog and Lila Rossi had many people double checking the sources of everything they learned from that blog.

Alya could barely show her face as she made her way though the school hallways. Her reputation as a journalist had gone down the drain. People had basically started boycotting her blog, harrassing her, or trash talking her on other forums and sites. Even a lot of news outlets picked this up.

What hurt the most from that interview last night was Ladybug's words towards her, both as Rena Rouge and as Alya. Surely the heroine had to be mistaken, she had never beytrayed Ladybug! And that Oblivio incident, it was just to show Chat Noir and Ladybug that they were meant to be together!

Her family was upset with her. No, upset was too tame of a word. They were pissed.

"I can't believe she lied to us.."

"Well what do you expect from someone who keeps harrassing Ladybug?"

Alya flinched when she heard the whispers and rushed into Miss Buster's class. The entire class was there, all seated, all looking utterly miserable. Many of them looked as if they had been crying all night. A lot like she had.

"W-where's Miss Bustier?" Alya asked when she eyed the empty desk. Many of her classmates shot her glares, but didn't say anything about the interview last night. After all, they had no room to talk.

"She and Principal Damocles are with the school board now. We're getting a new teacher." Adrien was the one that spoke up. He looked utterly miserable. So unlike his usual self.

"Lila isn't coming back. She was pulled from school when her mother found out what happened." Alix muttered from her seat, arms crossed and shoulders hunched.

The class went quiet as they all internally contemplated how things had gotten like this. Their eyes focused on the door when it abruptly opened and Marinette came strolling in, carrying a box.

"Good morning everyone!" She said brightly, pretending not to notice the downcast expressions on their faces. She set the box on the teacher's desk before she turned towards them. "Oh? What's wrong everyone?"

".. Did you not watch the interview with Ladybug on 'Latest Buzz'?" Alya stared at Marinette, a bit dumbfounded by her friend's lack of awareness of the situation. She had been expecting Marinette to rush in with support and a fiery vengeance against those who had humiliated her best friend, maybe even a fresh pastry. But instead she was greeted with empty hands and a cheerful hello?

"Oh, well I haven't really had the time to watch much television. I mean, with my transfer papers, needing to plan out my new schedule with all of those new classes. Busy as a bee, that's me!" Marinette just beamed, giving Adrien a playful wink that had his stomach churning.

"Wait, transfering?" It was Rose that spoke up, her large eyes seeming impossibly large now. "Transfer what?"

"To my new school, of course." Marinette giggled and clasped her hands together. "I start on Monday."

"New school?!" Alya was on her feet and rushing towards Marinette. The others quickly followed, crowding around her. "What do you mean new school?! When did you ever say you were going to a new school?"

Marinette blinked, as if stunned, then tilted her head ever so slightly.

"I told you all last week, don't you remember?" Marinette tapped her lower lip, seeming to be wracking her brain before she abruptly snapped her fingers. "Oh! I forgot, you all were deep in conversation with Lila about her upcoming event with Jagged Stone and Clara Nightengale. You know, the one she said she'd be attending with Ladybug, since they're such good friends. Did she ever say how it went?"

All of the students shifted uneasily, suddenly seeming to refuse to meet her face.

Alix murmured something so barely audible, Marinette held a hand to her ear and leaned closer.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Lila was lying to us!" Alix snapped as her cheeks went a flaming red.

"About everything! She never knew Jagged Stone!" Juleka spat out in fury.

"Or Prince Ali!" Rose sniffled.

"And she wasn't friends with Ladybug? They were barely acquaintances!" Alya wailed out as tears welled up in her eyes.

But Marinette hardly reacted the way they were expecting. She just gave them a small smile and nodded.

"Oh, yeah. I know."

Alya sucked in a breath sharply.

"You knew..? But why did you never..?"

"Oh Alya, you silly forgetful thing. I told you the day she returned from her long 'trip', remember? I told you she was lying." Marinette gave Alya a smile that said 'oh you silly thing'. "But you told me that I should really check my sources. And I got tired of trying to bring up any lies, since that was always your response. So I decided to just stop. I mean, since you're such an inspiring, honest journalist you must double and triple check every source you come across and found every story to be true!"

Alya flinched and looked away, feeling the churning feeling in her gut again. No, the Ladyblog had been the only source for the stories. The. Only. One.

"And I'm sure all of you knew what you were doing! I mean, it makes sense; trusting the words of a complete stranger over someone you've known for a while now. Some of you since we were in diapers!" She focused her gaze on Nino and Kim, who had the grace to at least look ashamed.

"Marinette, you really should-" Adrien began, reaching out for the girl, but was cut off by her clapping her hands together.

"But it's alright! I decided that fighting with you all wasn't worth it, so I took Adrien's advice and took the high road! Don't bother exposing Lila, she isn't hurting anyone!" Marinette announced brightly, giving her hands a little wave.

The temperature in the classroom dropped by several degrees.

".. Adrien, she's kidding, right?" Nino glanced over at his friend, his eyes pleading for him to deny it all. But the sight of the blood draining from the model's face and the sweat starting to bead at his forehead told him everything he needed to know. "Dude.."

"How could you?! You knew this entire time and didn't even try to tell me?!" Alya rounded on Adrien, fury in her eyes.

"Now, now, don't get mad at Adrien. I'm sure he knew you all were going to do you research. Besides, it's not like this did anything bad for anyone." Marinette pressed a hand to her cheek, still grinning. "I mean, it's not like you all took her advice without doing any research. You didn't try the things she suggested without actually checking them out to be true, right? No one lost any scholarships or job opportunities. No one's relationships were ruined. No one was hurt."

The nauseous feeling spread to all of the class as the reality of everything caught up with them.

"I'm sure everything will go back to normal, right? I mean, I'm sure that that woman from the education bureau isn't here to fire Damocles and Bustier for their severe neglect in their duties. Expelling me with the most mediocre and shaky proof. Surely that's a school I should feel safe in! That I should be proud to be a part of. But alas, my preparations for my new school are already done, so oh well."

Marinette shrugged and adjusted her purse strap.

"Anyhow, I wish you all luck with the amazing things Lila has helped you to do! I know it must have been worth ignoring me and convincing me I was crazy. With all of the free time I've had, with you guys practically replacing me with Lila in the group, I've had tons of time to spend with my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?!" Alya's eyes went owlishly wide as she gaped at Marinette. "But what about Adrien?!"

"Oh Alya, I fell out of love with Adrien forever ago." Marinette shook her head in an almost patronizing way that had Alya's cheeks burning with embarrassment. They didn't even pay attention to Adrien's noises of surprise. "I mean, you claimed I was jealous of Lila getting close to Adrien, that I should let the jealousy go. And you know what? You were right! So I decided Adrien wasn't worth the stress, the embarrassment.. I mean, I couldn't even talk to him straight. I thought he was the most perfect guy in the world! Goodness, did I learn my lesson!"

She giggled as if she found the entire thing amusing. She then beamed at the class.

"Well, ta-ta! I need to get back home and make sure everything is ready to go. I wish you all the best, I really do!"

They all watched, shellshocked as Marinette breezed out of the classroom like it was nothing. Like she wasn't leaving her friends, her school, her life behind. And they all would wonder exactly how badly they screwed up, if she could walk away do easily, without a care.

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[hawks-supremacy]

False Soulmates

summary: you fantasized about meeting your soulmate all the time when you were a kid, but when you finally meet him you begin to think having a soulmate isn't all that it's cut out to be

pairing: oikawa x reader

warnings: swearing, angst

genre: angst to fluff

word count: 3.7k

a/n: It's my birthday! I turned 21 which means I can now legally do basically anything. It also mans this is the last fic for the seven days up until my birthday.

Everyone in the world is born with a soulmate, their other half. When you speak your first words the first words your soulmate says to you appear on you. Some people can go their whole lives without meeting theirs. They don’t search or they’re on the other side of the world. For some people this is okay and they simply marry someone else. You don’t need your soulmate to live a happy life. However, life is better with your soulmate. It’s the person who was made to understand and accept everything about you. Life wasn’t picture perfect, soulmates still fought. It was just better.

Ever since your parents explained to you what the words on your ribs meant you couldn’t wait to meet your soulmate. You fantasized about it everyday, what they would look like or act like. You were constantly daydreaming about the day you’d meet the person who said those words that were permanently etched into your skin. Of course you hoped you’d have easier words than “hey cutie” but at least you knew he thought you were cute. Now you were just hoping you didn’t say something stupid in return.

It was your first year at Aoba Johsai when you unfortunately met your soulmate. Where you learned he greeted nearly everyone with “hey cutie” and before you could respond he was whisked away by his best friend. It was your first year when you learned your soulmate was Oikawa Toru and it was your first year when you learned some people will do anything to be with whoever they want.

You overheard girls constantly going up to Oikawa claiming to be his soulmate and you constantly heard him tell them that they weren’t. You hated having the locker across from his. He got notes from girls who said that he was their soulmate but they were too shy to tell him in person. He got people trying to guess what his soulmate's first words were. You hated having a locker across from him because you overheard him tell Iwaizumi that he was tired of people pretending they were his soulmate.

It was your second year when you finally worked up the courage to talk to Oikawa and it was your second year when you learned you hated your soulmate. You walked up to the locker ready to explain that you were his soulmate and you were too scared to tell him when he yelled at you. Before you could get a word out he was telling you to go away.

It was after school and you stayed late in the library to tutor someone in your class. You went to your locker and saw Oikawa at this locker with his friends. You figured now would be the best time since it was just the five of you and the school was empty. You took a deep breath and took the three steps across the hallway to Oikawa’s locker. You were about to speak when he beat you to it. “Could you stop? God I am so tired of all of you pretending to be my soulmate when you’re not. Do you know how hard that makes it for me? You’re all so annoying just leave me alone.” You stood there as he yelled at you for trying to talk to him. You stood there as you felt your heart breaking when you barely even knew Oikawa. When he was done speaking you just turned and walked away as you felt tears streaming down your face.

It was the next day at school when Oikawa apologized to you for yelling at you. You just nodded and walked away, still too embarrassed to talk to him. It was a few weeks later when he started dating the volleyball team manager. That was when you had to listen to your soulmate talk about how he finally found his “soulmate”. You listened as he talked about his “soulmate” to his friends and about how amazing she was. You watched as she went up to Oikawa and pretended to be someone she wasn’t. You thought your soulmate yelling at you was the worst thing that could happen to you, but you were wrong.

It was a month after Oikawa had started dating her when you rounded the corner to the exit of the school and heard his girlfriend talking to her friends. You felt bad as you eavesdropped but the guilt you felt was quickly overtaken with anger. “We know he’s not your soulmate, so how’d you get him to believe you were?” One of her friends asked. “Well at practice one day I saw his soulmate mark. So I just went up to him and said it. Easy as that, he didn’t really question it since we’ve never spoken prior to that.”

“So you lied to him? How considerate of you. How long do you think you can keep that up?” You asked, turning the corner. “However long I want. It’s not like you’re going to tell him.” She scoffed and walked away leaving you in the hallway. You thought about as you walked home, you may not be on the best terms with Oikawa due to the fact he unknowingly ripped out your heart and stomped on it; but you also couldn’t let this girl pretend to be his soulmate. So you decided you would tell him.

The next day at school you went to tell Oikawa about what you heard yesterday, however, when you went to go talk to him he walked away from you. You thought he just didn’t see you so you figured you’d try again later, but he walked away from you again and again, and again. Every time you tried to talk to him he avoided you. You eventually found Iwaizumi and decided to tell him in hopes he would pass the message onto Oikawa.

“Iwaizumi, can I talk to you for a second?” He turned around as you approached him with the question. “Oikawa’s girlfriend isn’t his soulmate.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, mumbling whatever and turned around. You ran in front of him preventing him from moving , “I’m being serious. I don’t know how or when but at some point she saw his soulmate words and used them to make it seem like she was his soulmate. I heard her tell her friends yesterday.”

“Look Y/n,” he started off with a sigh, “She told us you were going to try to split them up. We didn’t really believe her at first, but you just proved her point. I don’t know what motive you have for doing this but you should really stop. First you tried to pretend like you were his soulmate and now you’re claiming his actual soulmate is lying about it? Just leave him alone.” He finished walking around you.

You turned around as frustrated tears started welling up in your eyes, “I am his soulmate asshole! You both are jerks, I don’t want him as my soulmate anyway. Wish him luck for me.” He turned around looking shocked at how genuine you sounded and how hurt you looked. He started saying your name before you cut him off, “Forget it Iwaizumi, he clearly doesn’t want me as his either.” You walked away leaving Iwaizumi with more doubts than what he started with.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa were hanging out at Iwaizumi’s house studying when Iwaizumi brought you up, “Y/n stopped me at school today.” He said testing the waters. “Oh yeah? What’d they say?” Oikawa responded, bored with the conversation already. “They said that they overheard Himari say she wasn’t your soulmate. That she saw your soulmate words and that’s how she knew what to say.” Iwaizumi stopped studying and looked up at Oikawa who paused what he was writing before rolling his eyes and continuing his homework.

“That doesn’t make any sense, besides Himi said they would try and break us up. What would she gain out of pretending to be my soulmate anyway?” Oikawa mumbled. Iwaizumi thought for a second before remembering the hurt look on your face and the sound of your voice. “Y/n also said that they were your soulmate, and before you say anything you didn’t hear their voice or the look on their face. They were really hurt.

Oikawa sighed, setting his pencil down and looking at Iwaizumi annoyed, “I don’t know why we’re still talking about this. Himi said this was going to happen and it did. This also isn’t the first time Y/n tried to claim to be my soulmate. Now drop it, please.” Iwaizumi shut up for the remainder of the time.

It was your third year and Oikawa was still dating Himari, Iwaizumi never brought you up again but ever since you talked to him something about her never sat right with him. Iwaizumi had a few conversations with you since then but never brought it up to you either. You were sitting behind the school eating lunch when Iwaizumi sat down next to you, “Show me your soulmate mark.” You whipped your head towards him in confusion mumbling “what?” with a mouthful of food. “Show me your soulmate mark.” He repeated and you slowly finished the bite you were chewing, still confused. “What? Why?”

“Ever since you talked to me last year about Oikawa and Himari something never sat right with me. So show me your soulmate’s first words said to you and I’ll try and help you.” He sighed while rubbing his face. The past year had been tiring for him, he brought you up one other time to Oikawa and Himari both, but as soon as Himari started crying Oikawa snapped. “Uhm no thanks, I can tell you what it says but I’m not lifting up my shirt to show you it.” You weren’t about to lift up your shirt just to maybe prove a point. Nothing is solidified unless you actually say something to Oikawa and you doubt that’s happening anytime soon.

Iwaizumi nodded, agreeing to your terms. “It says “hey cutie” but Oikawa says that to everyone. We won’t know if it is Oikawa unless I say something to him first anyway. For all we know someone else might say that to me. I don’t even know if I want your help anyway. They seem happy just let them be, they clearly deserve each other. Maybe the universe made a mistake.” You said and returned to eating your food.

Iwaizumi leaned back against the building thinking. He’s never seen Himari’s soulmate mark but he’s seen Oikawa’s. It was in the same place as yours so he’s not sure when Himari would’ve seen it. All he knows is Himari started being the volleyball team manager as one of Oikawa’s fangirls and never spoke to Oikawa, then she just randomly walked up and talked to him. It didn’t sit right with Iwaizumi and no matter how many times Oikawa said he was happy he finally found his soulmate he never actually seemed happy.

He was about to say something when someone beat him to it. “Seriously? Are you still trying to convince Iwa that you’re my soulmate Y/n? This is starting to get pathetic and you Iwa? Are you actually entertaining this? Come on Iwa-chan, let's go.” Oikawa said, hands crossed scowling at the both of you. “How do you know they’re lying? Have you seen Himari’s soulmate mark?” Iwaizumi asked, not moving from his spot next to you on the ground. Oikawa thought for a second furrowing his eyebrows and unfurrowing them, “No but what does that have to do with anything? Are you accusing my girlfriend of lying to me? I believe Himi, she said the words that have been on me for years. It's not like it’s a coincidence.”

“How do you know Y/n’s lying? You’ve never let them say a word to you. You’ve only ever yelled at them.” Iwaizumi got up from his place on the ground defending you. You aren’t the closest or anything but after the few conversations he’s had with you, he would still consider you a friend. He liked you a whole hell of a lot more than he liked Himari that’s for sure. You got up from your place on the ground and tugged on Iwaizumi’s sleeve. “Just let it go, I don’t care anymore.” You said as he turned his head to look at you.

“No you wanna prove you’re my soulmate so bad, go ahead prove it. Say your first words to me and we can move along and I can go find Himari and continue my life. You can finally leave me alone.” Oikawa said, walking closer to you and Iwaizumi. You shook your head fed up with it already. Even if he found out you weren’t sure you wanted him to be your soulmate anyway with all that he’s put you through. Every time Oikawa opened his mouth you seemed to get more angry with him. He was still talking when you cut him off, “Fine, I’m your soulmate you asshole! Are you happy now?!”

You didn’t give anyone a chance to say anything as you stormed off. After three years of knowing Oikawa was your soulmate he finally wanted to hear you out. You couldn’t believe the nerve of him or Himari. You still don’t know why she faked being his soulmate, his fangirls are just desperate you guessed. As you walked into classes now significantly more pissed off than you were before lunch, Oikawa and Iwaizumi were talking behind the school.

“Did you tell them?” Oikawa asked, narrowing his eyes. “You’re ridiculous of course I didn’t tell them, you really think I’d do that? Besides, they sounded a lot more believable saying that then Himari did last year.” Oikawa sat on the ground leaning against the school with his head in his hands. “I’m still having a hard time believing it, I mean why would Himari do that? Oh god I was a jerk to my soulmate for two years. And they didn’t say anything. I didn’t let them say anything. I don’t think I can make this up to them. I really fucked up.”

“Yeah you did. You’re gonna spend the rest of your life digging your way out of this one. That is if Y/n gives you the chance. Even if they do, I doubt they’ll let you forget about it. First things first though, you need to break up with Himari.” Oikawa nodded as Iwaizumi patted him on the back, helping him up from the ground. They got back to class and the first thing Oikawa did once school ended was find Himari and break up with her.

A few minutes after breaking up with her he went to his locker and found Himari yelling at you. “What are you doing Himari? It’s over, they had nothing to do with it. This was all your own fault, did you honestly expect us to stay together forever? Even if they hadn’t finally gotten it through my thick skull I would’ve found out eventually.” He said standing in between you and Himari. She huffed and walked away yelling various profanities at the two of you. Oikawa turned to you to apologize but you were facing your locker, ignoring him.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I know it doesn’t help at all but I am. I was too caught up in the fact that I might’ve finally found my soulmate that I didn’t want to be told I was wrong. It still doesn’t make up for the fact that I was a jerk to you. I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Please let me try.” Oikawa leaned against the locker next to yours as he practically begged.

You closed your locker looking at Oikawa with a blank look. “No.” Oikawa looked confused as he mimicked the word in a questioning tone. “Yeah, no. Look Oikawa, you’re my soulmate but it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it. You’re right, you treated me like shit for the past year and a half. I’m not about to just forgive and forget, because while you were off playing soulmates with Himari your actual soulmate was hurt and heartbroken because you couldn’t give them the time of day. So no Oikawa I won’t let you.” You walked off for the second time today, leaving Oikawa standing in the middle of the hallway.

“You kinda deserved that one sorry dude.” Matsukawa said, clapping Oikawa on the back. “I know I just don’t know how I’m going to make it up to them. I really hurt Y/n and I don’t know how to fix it. I’m scared I’m not going to have a soulmate for very long.” Oikawa tried following you out of the school but Iwaizumi stopped him telling him to let it go for today. Oikawa listened and begrudgingly went to practice. For the first time in his life he didn’t want to go to Volleyball practice. Instead he wished he was with you desperately trying to make everything up to you Trying to patch things up.

For the next few months Oikawa spent his time constantly trying to make things up to you. He told you he was sorry at least once a week and bought your favorite snacks as gifts to you. It started off with him leaving some chocolates you didn’t much care for in your locker. When you told him you didn’t really like them his response was, “Well why don’t you tell me what you like so I can get you the proper gifts.” You just shook your head and walked away after telling him thanks. You may have been mad at him but you weren’t rude.

The second time he tried doing something to apologize he did it publicly. Iwaizumi tried to talk him out of it knowing you weren’t going to like having all of the attention but Oikawa refused to listen. So he made this big grand gesture in the middle of the cafeteria at school. You didn’t say anything as your face grew red and you walked out of the cafeteria, leaving Oikawa walking back to his friends while Iwaizumi told him, “I told you so.”

He didn’t really try to do anything big after that, just small things to let you know he was there. Eventually he started walking you to and from school after learning you didn’t live that far from each other. Slowly you started to forgive him, but you weren’t about to jump right into dating. So you stayed friends. You let him walk you to school and sat with him at lunch. You went to all of his games that you could easily travel to. You were beginning to forgive him and that’s all Oikawa could ask for.

“I’m thinking about leaving Japan after we graduate.” He said one day while you were hanging out at his house. His parents knew you guys were soulmates and gave him an earful after hearing about what he had done, his sister still teases him about it whenever she visits with Takeru. You were hanging off of his bed when he made that statement and you sat up. “Where are you gonna go?” You asked, moving to the edge of the bed. “I’m not sure yet. I have a few offers but I think I’m going to go with Brazil.” He moved from his desk to the spot next to you on the bed. “Unless you think I should stay here.”

“You think I want to be the reason you don’t follow your dreams? Hell no, Oikawa. Go to where you think is best for you and your future goals. Not where I’m gonna be. We can still facetime and call. Besides, you should be able to visit for the holidays. Who knows, maybe I’ll find a school in Brazil to go to.” Oikawa looked at you surprised, he knew you were starting to forgive him but he didn’t think you’d be willing to go with him.

“You don’t have to do that, you know. I couldn’t ask you to come with me. Of course I would love it if you would, but only if you think you’d be happy there. I’ve put you through enough Y/n I can’t ask you to do this as well.” You rolled your eyes covering his mouth with your hand. “Shut up for once. I’m not mad at you anymore, I’m never gonna let you forget it, but I’m not mad. I’m not saying I’m going to for sure go with you wherever you go and follow you blindly. I’m saying if I find a school I like and get accepted then I’ll move with you. I just got you to realize I’m your soulmate, I’m not quite ready to give that up just yet, Toru.” You finished your mini speech removing your hand from his mouth. You expected him to immediately start talking but he just stared at you for a while. “Toru? You’re freaking me out. Blink or something at least.” He didn’t say anything as he pulled you into a hug thanking you.

A few months later and you were helping pack boxes at Toru’s house, “I told you not to wait until the last minute to pack Toru. Now we’re rushing so you’re ready to leave on time.” You scolded sorting like things into boxes. “Maybe if my beautiful s/o hadn’t distracted me when I was supposed to be packing we’d be fine.” He said coming up and wrapping his arms around your waist pecking you on the cheek. You laughed as you lightly shoved him away, “Toru I’m serious we’re going to miss our flight if you don’t hurry up. I have orientation next week and you start practice soon. We need to get there early to settle into the apartment and look around the city so we’re not lost right away.”

He shook his head, laughing as he finally helped you pack his bags. Before you know it you’re in Brazil moving into an apartment with your boyfriend. Sure your relationship was rocky, but you couldn’t imagine spending your time with anyone else.

[scriptaed]

cherry blossom avenue.

❀ genre: angst/fluff; arranged marriage!au; f2l!au;

❀ pairing: jin x reader; 

❀ length: 23.0k;

❀ synopsis: college would’ve been unbearable if it weren’t for your wallowing sessions with your best friend jin over a shared “forever alone” woe, so it really was only a matter of time until the two of you sealed a shoddy promise to betroth the other at the age of 27. perhaps it was only a silly joke to you then, but you should’ve known better nonetheless; because when a wedding invitation arrives five years later down the road with his name signed next to another’s, feelings that were once buried begin to blossom once again.

“Don’t be a homewrecker.”

What was supposed to be a light-hearted tease over your fleeting glimpses in his direction bears much more weight than even reality should have; and unbeknownst to her, even if your friend’s commentary strikes a fear in you, a fear that has some creature eating away at you and a horrifying drop in the twisted pain of your chest, the daunting knowledge of a potential truth behind her words pale in comparison to the anguish brought upon by a familiar face of the past. 

Because even as you stand far and hidden behind the crowd of overly dressed classmates and unacquainted businessmen all painted by a silhouette of dimmed black, you manage to observe him through the few albeit sure opportunities; for when the passersby chatter, cross, and weave through the lavish ballroom floor at the perfect time, place, and space for you to peep through the pinholes seemingly formed by pure happenstance or a cruel wish casted upon by fate, the clock returns to a buried state of mind.  

It’s a state of mind seven years stale, mistakenly manifested and deliberately buried. It’s a transition in mindsets when fondness sours into a longing for something that could never be, for his reciprocation of affections means much less than its origins. It’s a heavy moment when you’re finally sure he would never come to speak the language of your enamored being. It’s that fractured frame in time when everyone freezes in their tracks but a reverberating pain transcends the laws of the universe, almost as if on a personal quest to oust you; and even if you vehemently down yourself with another magical shot of liquor, nothing can quite ease the internal war stirring within.

One hand grasping a glass of red wine worth much more than a month of your salary and one arm crossed under the bosom draped over by your only presentable black satin slip dress, you’re almost numb to the turmoil that is irony. How cruel is it that even after seven years of having believed you had moved on, nothing has really changed after all? Your heart still melts in the wake of his dorky grin, your chest still winces over the buried buds of a coveted love, and your blood still runs intoxicated by the presumption that this phase of infatuation would pass with time. 

Your friendship, your feelings, your shared promise, a youth that no one had paid witness to except for you, him, and that cherry blossom tree down that street, nothing has really changed. In fact, you feel as though you could still march across this room and nonchalantly probe at your best friend’s cheek with the ultimate goal of eliciting a shriek from your best friend. 

And yet, the circumstances that have brought you back to him in this very room must have been the one cruel exception. 

“A ‘homewrecker?’” you feign a light-hearted chuckle, swirling your drink and taking another sip as you peek at the distorted glass-image of the man and the woman beside him. “And why would you say something as horrifying as that?”

“Didn’t you say you and, what’s his name,” Alex pauses before nearly gasping, “ah, Seokjin! Didn’t you say you two used to be best friends in college? You might have been his best friend but she’s his fiance now, Y/N! Plus, she’s got a baby in her, too.” 

She might have been joking, and it really should have been if you had been truthful about your feelings for said best friend, but maybe this is the price you’re paying for so dutifully holding onto your dignity; so, instead, the deep undercut of her remark instigates a stirring irritation within you. Raising a questioning brow at your friend is all you can muster without spilling your secret as well as your brewing storm. 

“Oh, so you actually do remember what I say when you’re only a minute from blacking out?” 

“Hey,” your friend recognizes the anger seeping through your body language, stifling a giggle as she tries to bump your elbow and stumbles over her heels, “it was a joke, okay? I’m just looking out for my friend!”

“Right, what is there to even look out for?” 

“Well,” she points a finger at the direction you had just been staring off into a minute prior and leans in to whisper, “you’ve been staring at the newly engaged man for much longer than the woman beside him, if that says anything—”

“—uhuh, as if, hey!” you almost yelp as you help her stand upright once again. A scoff of disbelief escapes your lips over the sight of your friend letting herself go. Grabbing her glass and swiftly placing it onto the tray of the many passing waiters, you squish her cheeks and give her a light pat or two. “The only person you need to worry about is yourself. Why are you even wearing those ungodly stilettos when you can’t even wear kitten heels without whining all day at work?”

“Hey,” Alex pouts, bending one knee and jutting her hips to show off those torturous pink devices on her feet. “I told you about my ex from high school, don’t you remember?”

“So it’s okay if you’re trying to impress an ex from high school, but I’m not even allowed to glance at my old best friend?” you quip, pressing your lips into a thin line as you take another gander at your friend up and down. “And what does excessive drinking even have anything to do with it?” 

She flashes you a mischievous grin, “for confidence.”

“I can’t with you,” the roll of your eyes must have agreed, “and what about the classmate friend who actually invited you to her engagement party?”

“Oh,” Alex glances at the woman beside Jin and shrugs, “she’s alright. She’s that typical good girl. Too smart, too kind, too good at everything that you really want to hate her but have no reason to do so. I’m sorry, Y/N, but your best friend is devilishly handsome and I’m not surprised she’s marrying someone of her league.” 

“Pfft, why are you apologizing to me?” you scoff, ushering her to the washroom and shaking your head along with the stream of confusing emotions that hit you like a truck. “Go wake yourself up before she or, gasp, worse yet, your ex spots you.” 

“Oh my God, you’re right,” she gasps, shuffling in her skintight red bodycon dress and whirling around once more to call out before finally disappearing, “let me know if any boy comes looking for me!” 

“Uhuh, yeah, sure,” you shoo her away, taking another sip from your glass and muttering under your breath, “...how am I supposed to recognize your high school classmates?”

Now that your friend is gone and you’re left all alone to your thoughts, you go against your own advice and down another glass of liquor. 

You may have been his best friend but she is his fiance. 

Well, if Alex is a good judge of character, then at least a good man like your best friend has found an equally respectful woman. It might have hurt to hear her words, but Alex isn’t exactly wrong. At the very least, you could sigh in relief having known you’re genuinely happy for your best friend’s future. 

It’s just that the truth hurts sometimes. 

Relief isn’t an excuse for lingering onto a soon-to-be-married man, regardless of when these emotions came about. 

People are chattering all around you, strangers and former acquaintances are bustling about, familiar college classmates are greeting the bride-to-be’s high school classmates, and yet here you are: aloof and isolated even in a room of hundreds, fixated and more distant than you have ever been to the boy you had once cherished as the closest anyone could get to knowing the real you. 

No one would know but Jin. 

The real you.

The you who could not have moved on because she couldn’t recognize her own feelings until seven years down the road with a wedding invitation in hand, seven years after the buds had been sowed, seven years too late. 

The one who stands pathetically here in the corner of a room, secretly hoping for him to approach her but also wishing for the night to pass unnoticed just like she had wished for her buried affections to pass.  

So you shuffle in place awkwardly, pondering whether you should’ve caved into Alex’s pleas and attended this posh get-together, debating whether you should dip once your friend realizes her high school ex just isn’t worth it, sipping the remainder of opulent liquor and taking one last peek at the boy, when, your heart strikes loudly against your chest…

...because his eyes catch yours, a pair amongst hundreds, one invitee amidst an endless swarm of crowds, almost as if on a planned rendezvous, a secret unbeknownst to everyone in the room but the two of you.

Eyes widening in shock, the drums of your chest hammer against you, each strike pumping a nearly painful high that fuels your fight or flight mode. The debate between confronting your longtime friend and fleeing said friend did not even cross your mind at the start of the predicament. Quickly whirling around, head down and hands gripped to your drink, your feet move on its own. 

A familiar series of clicks echo against the polished marble tiles. You don’t even have to turn around to recognize those homecoming footsteps, those awe-inspiring confident strides as he makes his way across the room. If this were you from seven years ago, you would have welcomed him with open arms and he would have claimed you were just acting sweet to bargain for some fresh pastry, but the unfamiliarity of a stranger you have yet to reconcile with has you in an unexplainable panic. 

After all, it’s hard to explain why exactly his persistent pursuit after you, after seven years of distance, both emotional and physical, frustrates you to no ends. 

Your hands form fists, your feet storm down the halls, and your mind could repeat nothing but the words you had excused as “just a light-hearted joke.” 

You may have been his best friend but she is his fiance. 

Don’t be a homewrecker.

A baby in her.

A baby.

His fiance. 

A homewrecker.

The accusations echo and echo, as though screaming at you in the endless cave that is your mind, until the party fades, the crowd disappears, and the ear-piercing classical music wanes against the walls of your temporary solace, the bathroom. Finally, entrapped in a world of black—black tiles, wine colored walls, and dark red roses perched on top of what seems to be a black granite sink—you’re left alone to your thoughts. 

Alex wouldn’t understand a seven-year-long regret because she doesn’t know the real history between you and Jin. In fact, no one invited to this engagement party nor does anyone in this whole mansion know of the soon-to-be groom’s past. 

It isn’t as simple as people might make it out to be on the surface, because no one but you, Jin, and the street down your block had paid witness to a shoddy, spontaneous promise that should have never been made. 

Turning on the faucet and splashing a fresh handful of cold water onto your face, your eyes eventually wander from the stream of water that flows down the drain up along the glass bowl of a sink and into the mirror to meet the sullen eyes of a girl, seven years older with a stain of regret that spans much longer that a mere seven years. 

❀ ❀ ❀

“Waaah,” the boy exclaims as you watch your own reflection narrow its eyes at the image beside you. The spectacle persists to angle his chin every which way until he’s finally satisfied with the protrusion of his jawline; and as the boy resumes his daily activity of marveling at himself in awe, you have to wonder once again, for the hundredth time by now, just how you two had possibly become best friends. “Looking good, Jin. Looking real good.”

“Ugh,” you roll your eyes and feign nausea, “narcissist.” 

Jin pauses in the midst of his inspection, allowing his phone to settle into his lap and turning to glance at you with his head as high—well, almost as high—as his ego. “When you look as good as this,” he gestures at himself and your eyes follow his crafty fingers up and down, “don’t even try to tell me you wouldn’t be all up in yourself.”

You blink your eyes blankly and start with the most accusatory tone you could muster, “excuse you, Kim Seokjin, but are you saying that I don’t look good?” 

“You’re insisting that yourself, not me! It’s not my fault you can’t appreciate your God-given looks,” Jin raises his hands mercifully and you almost miss his latter, back-handed compliment when you become entranced by those double-jointed fingers of his. “Plus, I said ‘when you look as good as this.’”

“Psh, yeah,” you mumble, “and yet here you are, still as forever alone as ever.”

“Hey,” he snaps, narrowing his eyes at you even as he raises his phone to take yet another selfie, “and what does that say about you?”

“...and that’s exactly why,” you chirp as you hastily smush your cheek against his and throw a peace sign just as he snaps a photo, “we’re gonna be forever alone together!” 

“Hey, why’re you ruining my selfie—” he pauses in the middle of his camera roll “—oh, we actually look good.”

Glimpsing at one of many candid photos of you and him, a helpless smile spreads across your lips. A warm breeze blows and you can practically smell the impending spring that breathes life into the pink buds hovering on the cherry tree above you. The sun’s embrace against your bare legs that lie beside your best friend’s on the red and white checkered picnic is a perfect compliment to the equally bright phenomena that are his high-pitched giggles; and like the many days you’ve spent the past year, the only thing that could possibly elevate this moment of serenity would be a bite of his weekly pastry batches.  

Speaking as you chow down on the carbs, you quip, “you mean you look good?” 

“That, too, but I meant us, together—” he articulates, cutting himself off abruptly when he snaps his head to find you digging into one of his many bread “—hey, who said you could start testing without me?!” 

“Too many selfies, too slow, too hungry,” you lean your head back to plop the remainder of the custard-filled bread into your mouth, “shmorry Jin, but dish ish delicious.”

Just as you lean forward and take another large bite out of the batch, Jin catches right up to you, snatching the remainder and plopping it right into his now-stuffed cheeks instead. Lips falling agape at the disappearance of your bite-size donut, you gawk at your best friend whomst chomps happily away with your piece in his mouth. 

You can still recall the heat of your cheeks after the first time he had ever proclaimed something that was yours as his—in fact, it wasn’t much long ago when Jin had nearly regurgitated a mouthful of mocha frappuccino after discovering you had sneaked in a sip or two prior—but now? Sharing commodities has become such second nature to you two that sometimes you wish he could return to his germophobic days just so you can hog all the food…

...and maybe to relive whatever magical flutters that had befallen you on that very first day.

“Of coursh ish delicious!” he manages to exclaim incoherently. “Kim Sheokjin baked it afta all!” 

“Yeah,” you take a long moment to gulp and make room for more food, “I think I prefer the ones with custard—”

“—so it’s a perfect batch just like m—”

“—almost perfect.”

You could see yourself wink through the prideful glint in his eyes quickly plummet into a glare that has you laughing at the downfall of his indestructible ego. His playful glare through the corner of his narrowed eyes silently commences yet another one of your daily staring challenges. Maybe that’s why the two of you made such a perfect pair amongst the thousands of classmates at school. After all, how would Jin ever find someone as tolerant of his incessant dad jokes and perpetual ego as you are? And how would you ever find someone who would bake you goods and cook you lunch and, not to mention, spout such peculiar humor? 

All of your classmates had dubbed the two of you as the perfect comedy duo—the dumb and the dumber, the silly and the sillier—that, apparently, is the essence of a match made in heaven, albeit probably meant to be more platonically than romantically. 

Both too stubborn to lose, even in a meaningless game of a staring contest, not even the heat of the sun rays that has you two nearly sweating bullets could deter the match. Eventually, seconds turn into minutes and minutes turn into a frenzy frozen moment in time as you start to fall into the sudden abyss you found yourself in that is the warmth pool of his eyes. 

Perhaps it’s the angle at which the rays strike theatrically on the apples of his cheeks, illuminating his dewy skin and enhancing the chocolate hues of his orbs hidden underneath the matching brown locks of his all whilst his eyes happen to be staring right back at you. You’ve never quite felt this way before—heart palpitating, throat constricting, and mind panicking—but for the first time ever, you’re hesitant in allowing your best friend to peer through the windows to your soul. 

This isn’t good. What would he do if he were to discover your frenzy? Would he tease you to no ends? 

Worse yet, would he falsely assume that you’re hardcore crushing on him…?

“Oh God,” you blurt out, breaking eye contact to avert your head to the side across the street. Your lips begin to mumble whatever comes first to mind, “uh, wow, look at that couple. Ugh, PDA—” your eyes flicker to find Jin raising a brow just before your eyes avert once again and he follows your line of sight “—am I right?” 

“Oh c’mon! Just admit it,” Jin chides. “You’re only using this to disguise the fact that you were just about to blink, weren’t you?” 

“I was not about to blink,” you insist but your shifty gaze tells the both of you otherwise, even if the true lack of confidence is unbeknownst to Jin. “You suck at staring contests. How many times have I won before? I was just distracted, okay?”

“Oh yeah?” Jin crosses his arms. “Distracted by what, then? Huuuh? By my devastatingly good looks?”

“No!” you exclaim almost too adamantly that you have to add in a nervous laugh at the end, which only has Jin staring at you in utter disbelief. Feigning an apologetic pressed smile, you gesture your hands in the direction of the couple supposedly hidden behind a fence but clearly exposed to those on a hill, otherwise known as you two. “I meant them—”

“—ew!”

The both of you exclaim in unison, selflessly covering the tarnished eyes of the other and ducking away from the moment of intimacy that you two had just intruded on. 

“Aw, cmon! Even after graduation, too?” Jin remarks, mouth gaping and hands falling from your shielded eyes only to be thrown to his side in bewilderment. “Does everyone really have to remind us just how lonely we are even on our last day?” 

“You mean how lonely we are and how lonely we will be for the rest of our lives?”

“For the rest of our lives?” Jin quirks a brow at you before shaking his head and shrugging. “Dang, that wasn’t exactly my plan, because the world will be forced to acknowledge my looks sooner or later, but I mean, in your case…”

“What?!” you gasp in disbelief, slapping his arm hard enough for him to wince. “What do you mean ‘in your case?’ I bet you haven’t even kissed someone yet!” 

Jin snarls at you as he pulls his arm back and retorts, “yeah? And I bet you haven’t either!” 

“Actually, I have, with Joon at that party last year,” you say smugly, crossing your arms with a chin held high, “and you just admitted you haven’t had your first kiss yet.”

“Psh, yeah, I haven’t, and?" the boy holds his head high akin to a child arguing with his body and not with his words. “Because I prefer to save it for something meaningful unlike someone here.” 

“Hey, are you insinuating that it wasn’t meaningful?”

“You’ve always told me how much you hated parties!” he throws his hands up. “Plus, you don’t even like Joon! You said his breath stinks!” 

“Well—” you pause but no words come to you except for a loud grunt “—ugh, fine. You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” he turns away, leaning into his right hand with an elbow propped against his crisscrossed lap. “I’m Kim Seokjin, after all.” 

Following suit, you mumble into your propped hand, “I guess that’s why we’re friends in the first place. Together and, yet, still forever alone.”

“Hey, I said I don’t plan on being forever alone.”

“Right, right,” you brush him off, “tell me that when you actually get a girlfriend—actually, tell me that when you find someone to marry who doesn’t run for their life just one month into your relationship.” 

“‘Marry?!’” he gawks at your demand. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and you’re talking about marriage?!”

“What?” you turn to face him, cheek resting in hand. “Didn’t you say the world would soon recognize your charms?”

“Hmph, well,” he says with a jutted lower lip, “definitely sooner than you.”

“Really?” you gape at his bold proclamation despite clearly being the one with the upperhand. “You really think you’re gonna get married before me?” 

Your best friend doesn’t even bother glancing at you before answering, “bet.”

“Okay, if you win, then I’ll eat the crust to your breads whenever you want. I’ll even throw in a bonus for you and spare your wife from having to see fetus photos of you in college,” you can only snicker at the lightbulb that goes off in his widened eyes. “And if I win, then you’ll have to eat my crust and delete all the ugly photos you have of me on your phone.”

“Sorry, can’t do. That would take me an eterni—”

“—shut up.” 

“Okay, fine, bet,” he cackles, straightening his back and stretching his arms out before him, “and what if neither of us ever get married?”

“Hm,” you purse your lips, “good point. Should we set a time cap to our bet? Ideally, if I want to have a stable job and income by 25, have children by 30, enjoy two or three years of marriage without kids, then…”

“Why do you have to have children by 30?” Jin frowns. “Why set all these unrealistic standards on yourself?” 

Putting a finger to hush his lips, you almost find yourself distracted by the plush warmth against your skin. Quickly, you answer, “long story short: parents.”

“Ah,” he utters even as your fingers are pressed to his lips, “ditto.” 

“Let’s set the cap to 27,” you propose. “If neither of us get married by the age of 27, then we’ll just call off the bet. But damn—” the two of you simultaneously lean your chins into your palms “—that means we’re really gonna be a disappointment to our parents forever, huh?” 

A loud, heavy sigh escapes the both of you; and while you stay pouting into your hands, staring into the fresh green grass on the downside of the hill off in the distance, Jin props his hands back against the blanket and cranes his neck back to look off into the distant sky. You hadn’t noticed it until now, but for a devilishly dashing guy like Jin—broad shoulders, facial features that could only be gifted, and a prominent Adam’s apple, especially with his head rolled to the back like this—you have to admit his lonely status must have been much more of a choice to Jin than it is for you; because even for someone like you, his best friend who gets to stare at his profile for as long you desire in all its glory, you have yet to become desensitized to his dazzling visuals that is anything but normal.

As much as you hate to admit it, even now, with a clear blue sky, an array of warm pastry aroma, and a field of freshly cut grass, you can’t help but become enamored by the person before you. 

And when another sigh befalls his lips and the two of you have settled into a comfortable silence and a breeze passes by the both of you, rustling a dozen or so of the hovering cherry petals to grace the surrounding air, he speaks. 

“Let’s get married if we’re still single by then.” 

“...huh?”

“I said,” only his eyes move to peer down at you effortlessly, “if we both lose the bet, then let’s get married.”

Your eyes pop and you can only utter the few words that reach you, “to each other?” 

“No, to food,” he says sarcastically, grabbing a piece of his bread and stuffing your face with it when you continue to stare at him and he shuffles awkwardly in place. Looking away, he mumbles, “of course to each other, who else, dummy?”

“Uh….huh,” you blankly nod your head as a series of laughs are stifled by the bread. “Okay, and you’re being serious?”

He doesn’t look at you when he answers, “uhuh.”

“Pffft, and you’re saying you would keep that promise? That you would even remember this moment? We’re just gonna marry? Like that? And you’re assuming I’m just going to agree?”

“Hey,” he turns to frown at you, “why wouldn’t you agree? I’m offering you a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

Munching down on the bread, you continue to play along in amusement, “really? And what exactly are you offering me? You know I have high standards, right? I’m not just going to accept any proposal.”

“I know. That’s why you’re still single…” the boy deadpans, even as you glare at his remark, “...but, that’ll all change when you witness my proposal! Hear me out. First, I’ll cook every meal for you for the entire day.”

“You almost already do that except for breakfast.”

“Okay, but I’ll hone my skills by then. It’ll be even better than any restaurant we’ve ever been to.”

You raise a brow, “so you think food is the way to my heart?”  

“No offence, but yes, that’s why we’re friends,” he quips before continuing, “second, I’ll bring flowers to you at work. Everyone at your job will be burning with jealousy!”

“Because of your public display of affection, which we both clearly disdain?” 

“No, because they would wonder how you have such a handsome boyfriend like me!” he wags his finger. “Plus, who doesn’t like a little PDA when they’re about to be proposed to?” 

“Okay, fair enough, but those are two promises you’re making for the proposal. A marriage is a lifelong commitment. Why would I want to marry you just for food and flowers?”

“Hmmm, even for someone like you, I’m surprised you have so many requirements,” Jin hums, tapping his finger on his chin. “How about this, I’ll make three more promises for our marriage.”

“Quit saying ‘our marriage,’ I keep shuddering at the thought of it,” you remark as you rub your arms. 

“Third promise, I won’t break your achey breaky heart,” he deliberately emphasizes each word in a fruitful attempt to send shivers down your spine. “Fourth promise, I’ll remember all of my promises.”

“Okay… and fifth?”

“I’ll keep all of my promises! And I’ll do it all right here at this spot. Our spot.”

“What? That’s dumb,” you giggle. “Just keep it at four, then.”

“No,” he grabs the bagel in your hands and fills his mouth without a second of hesitation, “ish eashier to wememba fibe promishesh.”

“Right, right, right,” you nod, pressing your lips in a vain attempt to muffle your chuckles. “And what promises would you want me to make?”

“You?” he quirks a brow before shaking his head. “Nothing. You’re fine. I like you just the way you are.”

Huh. Has Jin always been this nice? Because you don’t quite recall ever feeling the heat of an oncoming blush of your cheeks or the bashful flutters that come with your best friend’s witty remarks. Maybe the topic of marriage has thrown you off today or maybe it’s the aftermath of a high having just graduated college and being thrusted into adulthood, but the stretched smile that adorns your lips is an undeniable fact that your confidence and spontaneity has reached its pinnacle.

Grinning, you lean across Jin’s lap to grab and unlock his phone to access the camera, “okay, wanna take a photo to commemorate this moment?”

“Gee, if you want a photo of me that bad, you could just ask me to send you a selfie, y’know—what the,” Jin starts to cackle when you raise the phone into the air and suddenly press your cheeks against his without warning. With a side-finger gun to frame his cheeks and chin, your best friend readies his pose as you wear a mischievous smile. “Hurry up and take the picture already, Y/N. My time is money.” 

“Hey Jin,” you call out to him with your eyes still fixated to the phone screen, as does his. 

The boy almost drags his words, “now what?”

“You’ve never had a girl kiss you on the cheeks before either, right?”

“What—”

—click.

“There,” you chirp jubilantly, grinning at the stunned look on his face, his eyes popping and his lips just slightly parted but failing to utter a single word as his hand grazes the spot on his cheeks where your lips had just touched, “now you have zero excuses to forget our promise!”

❀ ❀ ❀

That must have been the last time you had met up with Jin in person. Shortly after graduation, the two of you had parted ways as many are forced to do in order to embark on their lives as full-fledged adults. Being born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Jin had been lucky enough to receive a job offer straight out of college with the help of family connections; although, even without his family name, you whole-heartedly believe he still would have managed on his own based off of his unparalleled work ethic that you had the chance to witness firsts-handedly. 

On the other hand, your parents had advised you to stay home, which happened to mean you would be stuck in the same town of your college, until you finally landed a decent job where you had met Alex and established a new life. Unfortunately, like life always does, all that busywork meant sacrificing contact with your best friend somewhere along the way.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait!”

“Ah, shit,” you mutter under your breath as you stop in the midst of your tracks down the black-marbled hallway, gritting your teeth and composing yourself just as you’ve done countless times around your less than friendly colleagues. Taking a deep breath in and out, you put on a pleased smile and whirl around to find the face of a familiar boy in your most recent reveries. “Ahh, hey, Jin... It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Ah,” the man, who seems to have grown at least or three inches since you had last seen him, scratches the back of his head. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight… how have you been?”

This is awkward. So painfully awkward. 

“Me? Oh, I’ve been alright. Life. Adulting. You know the drill,” you press a thin smile. “Actually, I’m surprised to be seeing you here tonight. I still remember us whining all throughout college over being forever alone, and yet here we are… at your engagement party… life can be funny, huh?” 

“Y—” he stutters, scratching the back of his neck “—yeah… it can be.” 

“So,” you chirp in a fruitless attempt to lift the suffocating atmosphere, “the wedding is coming up pretty soon! Feeling good or is someone getting cold feet?” 

He shakes his head weakly, “I wear socks to sleep.” 

“Wh—” you pause for a quick second, blinking blankly at his soft chuckle and following suit shortly after “—why do your jokes sound like you’re 22 again?” 

The man shrugs with a helpless smile hinted in the corners of his lips; and when it happens—you don’t know how or when the silence had whisked you away into a past time—you find him gazing at you with that fondness of a sole friend who endlessly shared and fought informidable woes with you. Perhaps you’re a hopeless romantic frozen between the fork of two roads that have long closed, for you swear you can see your own reflection through his warm brown eyes and you surmise the only possible answer to the question that lingers in your mind. 

He must see the same friend in you, that girl he would only call friend.

“You’ve been preparing your whole life for this, or, actually, maybe I should say we’ve been preparing,” you smile to stifle the lurching ache in your chest, “I guess I’m the only fool waiting for her turn now.” 

A weep cracks the laugh you force out of your knotted throat. Immediately, you turn your head to avoid his watchful gaze and tuck a lock of hair behind an ear whilst discretely ridding any traces of waterworks welling in your vision. You think you must have gotten away with the feigned laugh and turn, a routine you had mastered at your previous work, but the gradual dissolution of the curve on his lips settles into an unreadable flatline more resembling a frown than anything; because even after all these years, he can still read you like an open book. 

So, if he could see through your every facade even now, then why does he not remember? You know you shouldn’t hold it against him, such a silly promise built on a lonesome pair of naive hearts,  but you can’t help it when a single word paints your conscience. 

Why?

Why can’t he remember? 

Your shared promises, your birthday, your memories, and... you?

“Y/N,” Jin begins gently, hesitating in place once he takes a step forward and you flinch, “about the wedding date…”

He waits for you to reply, supposedly for ‘whenever you were ready’, as he always does during those fragile lows of yours. 

To avoid letting loose any more unneeded drama, you can only manage a hum, “mm?”

“I…” he pauses and sighs. “I know it’s your birthday.”

A hitch in your breath is audible. You clamp your lips tightly and nod, uttering lowly, “yeah.”

“I want you to know I didn’t decide the date, Y/N,” he says firmly, “my father did.” 

“And?” you quip suddenly, eyes darting to shoot a glower deadly enough for him to twitch in evident hurt. There, you went ahead and did it. As hard as you had spent the past months muting your rawest reaction to the envelope in your mailbox, all the pent up frustration and sheer sorrow for a lost future came whiplashing just as hard. “And you couldn’t tell your father to change the date? Maybe one day after? Or two?” 

“You know I would have asked if I could, Y/N,” he bites his tongue to state sternly, “but how would he understand? Change it for… for what—”  he laughs cruelly in the midst of his burst “—for the birthday of a best friend I lost contact with for five whole years?! That’s so… so dumb—” 

“—dumb…?”

The crack in your voice leads to a stagnant silence over what is clearly a no man’s land. Betrayal visibly paints across your face, the momentary display of having wronged his closest ally stains his own. 

“Sorry, I didn’t meant that...”

“‘...yeah, you’re right,” you scoff, “I’m dumb for waiting five whole damn years’ because you wouldn’t fucking text me or call me to ask how I was doing!”

“Me?” he asks in disbelief, gawking and pointing an accusatory finger. “You wouldn’t even pick up your phone! I called you for a month after I moved!” 

“I couldn’t pay for my phone, alright?! I was living with my parents and scrambling to find a job, any fucking low wage job, and I couldn’t sit all day in my room waiting for your calls because I’m not born with a silver spoon stuck in my ass!” 

At this point, the conversation had somehow contorted into an all out brawl of words, a challenge to see who could blame the other for the unsaid confessions lost in communication. The two of you staring down the other, chest heaving and jaws clenching and brows knitting, if it weren’t for your fortunate location tucked in the hallway hidden from the main room, you would not have allowed yourself to fall, lost somewhere in the depth of his eyes. 

“Why are you so upset?” a weak, hopeless laugh tumbles from his confused, pained expression. “Aren’t you supposed to be happy for me?” 

“I—” something gets caught in your throat and you have to choke it out “—I am. I am happy for you. I’m not upset, no…”

Jin reaches a hand out to your cheek when he notices your tears but immediately retracts his notion when you flinch backwards. The boy frowns in concern, “Y/N… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. How did I upset you?”

“Nothing,” you frantically shake your head that hangs low, using the back of your hands to smear every sign of contradiction on your face. “I just—” your breath shakes and an impending series of hiccups begins to kick in “—I’m silly. I should be happy for my best friend. I mean, I am happy. I’m just being dumb.” 

“What?” Jin carefully takes a step forward. “No you’re not—”

“—I’m dumb, okay, Jin?” you finally muster the courage to lift your sights to find his own confused ones. “It’s been five whole years and I’m embarrassed for taking a joke of a promise so seriously when my best friend doesn’t even remember making it!” 

The scrunch in his brows and lost resolution only reverberate the deafening ache in your chest. “The promises…? Y/N, I—”

“—it’s fine,” you blurt. Shaking your head and stumbling backwards, you look him straight in the eyes to say your last words before the fading knocks of your heels against the wood are all that he hears. “It's my fault for believing in a foolish fairytale anyways.”

❀ ❀ ❀

It’s almost like a fever dream when you recall just how confidently you had spat those spiteful words and furthermore dared to depart with that sheer satisfaction and the slightest aftertaste of alcohol residing on your tongue that night; but now that you’re awake, sober, and without the power of liquor, there’s nothing that can pull you out of your greatest nightmare most recently manifested into reality. 

“Why the hell did I do that? Why the hell did I do that? Why the hell did I do that?” 

The incessant grumbles tumble freely from your lips whilst you pace back and forth in the corner of the office. Typically, your colleagues would describe you as composed, reserved, and the level-headed half of an otherwise wild pair with Alex. This morning, however, they begin to question everything they’ve ever known about you as they watch through the corner of their averting eyes. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone!” Alex hisses under her breath along with the threatening glares she shoots at the audience. Considering how long you’ve been going at your mental breakdown, it doesn’t take very long for your shuffling footsteps and mumbling gibberish to transcend into yet another white noise in the office; and once the majority of the passersby settle on the new revelation of your hidden crazed nature, Alex hastily storms to your side as you begin banging your head against the wall. “Why would you throw a tantrum at your best friend’s engagement party?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying…” you pause momentarily to groan before proceeding to damage whatever is left of your seemingly deteriorating brain. “Why the hell did I do that? Why the hell did I do—”

“—not to mention, an ex best friend who never even knew about your unrequited feelings—”

—she comes to an abrupt stop when she finds the deadliest scowl in your dart-like eyes. No words are exchanged but the lethal consequences are clear enough to grant you her silence and the continuance of your destruction. 

“Why the hell did I do that, Alex?” you whimper, taking a break from your antics because, damn, your forehead is really starting to hurt. “Whyyyyyyy did you have to leave me alone? Maybe Jin wouldn’t have found me and I wouldn’t have had to confront him over something that shouldn’t even matter anymore! I-I barely even know him… it’s been five years and, suddenly, here I am, voila! At his engagement banquet, yelling in his face and getting mad over feelings that aren’t even his fault!” 

“I told you to go easy on the alcohol.”

“I told you to go easy on the alcohol,” you retort. Taking a deep breath, you let out a sigh along with the scowl plastered across your face. Your next words come out more as a helpless confession of fear than a rhetorical question to be answered. “Do you think he… hates me…?”

Alex observes you for a lingering second, perhaps contemplating between a merciful albeit exacerbating answer and a merciless albeit helpful answer. She speaks carefully, treading dangerous water, “well… would you like him to?”

“I don’t know,” you shut your eyes to heave yet another sigh because that weight in your chest refuses to leave you alone. An unapologetic swinging of the door and a series of loud, wide strided footsteps that follow have your brows furrowing and it takes everything in you and Alex, judging by the sudden shuffles you hear by your side, to finish the rare heart-to-heart conversation. “I think… I think if he hated me, maybe that would extinguish that part of me from the past. If he hated me, I would be able to get over it. Maybe I would hate him too, out of spite, but at least I would be able to get over—””

“—it…? Over what, Y/N?”

Over what? It takes you much longer than it should have for you to surmise the most probable answer to her question, an answer you were never willing to admit and an answer you aren’t quite sure you’re ready to admit even now. 

“You know what I’m implying, Alex,” you sigh, shutting your eyes even tighter when a rising heat marks your cheeks. “I want to get over—”

—but your words are cut short by a familiar voice that has your heart racing and striking an unprecedented strife in the mayhem that is your systemic state...

“You can’t possibly hate me, Y/N,” he proudly proclaims and you can practically hear him smiling, “no one ever hates Kim Seokjin.” 

...and when your eyes finally flutter open, you find the man, who had only seemed like a phenomenon of your feverish dream a second ago, standing before you and adorning that signature smile with raised cheek apples and crescent-like eyes that has yet to change under the influence of time and distance. 

“W-What are you doing here…?” you barely manage to utter. Eyes flickering around your surroundings, from Jin’s broad shoulders that shield nearly the entirety of a helpless albeit buoyant Alex, to your colleagues who fail to discreetly whisper over the lavishly suited mystery of a man, and finally back to the bouquet of pastel flowers wrapped with a bright pink bow. Brows furrowing, you struggle to organize your thoughts and even go so far as to check for the dent in your reddish forehead in a vain attempt to dispel the mind tricks. When the mirage before you fails to dissipate into thin air like sand, you slowly turn to face the wall again only to have your antics disrupted by his refreshingly cold hand on your burning forehead ; and when you turn, you find Jin’s mischievous smile growing wider by the second. “H-how do you know where I work…?”

“I’m your best friend, Y/N. Have you somehow forgotten after all that head banging?” Jin scoffs in disbelief, gawking with a chuckle. Suddenly, he leans in to grab your right hand firmly in his own, squeezing twice as he had always done and leading you toward the exit. “C’mon, let’s go recover those memories of yours, eh?” 

“Wait, wait,” you nearly stumble over your own feet at the pace he’s going, struggling to catch your breath when he bursts through the last door and a blast of freezing wind envelops the clash of the heat reverberating from your beating heart. “I have to go back! I still have work! And, and… and where in the world are you even taking me?” 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Y/N, so many dumb questions for someone who always topped my grades,” the boy holds the bouquet of flowers out toward you, refusing to continue until you reluctantly accept his gift with your left hand against your chest. Smiling at your reluctant acceptance, Jin turns his back on you and proceeds to march into the parking lot but his now warm hands intertwined with your now cold hands never loosens its grip. 

It’s been a long five years of waiting to finally relish in the hold of his familiarly slim, often teased albeit self-praised double-jointed hands, but, now that you’re finally living in it, you’re sure it was all worth it… even if the crashing flames at the end of this road is an inevitable, foreseeable future.

“Jin,” you frown as you stare at Jin’s opening of the car door and gesture of an invitation, reluctantly seating yourself in his sumptuous car. “I failed half of my exams... remember?”

The boy’s laughs can still be heard even through the closed door as he makes his way around the car front, all whilst swinging the keys in his forefinger. His cackling steps an abrupt many levels of decibels higher when the opposing door opens and he plops into the driver seat. “That never stopped you from boasting, did it?” 

Without the flare of your usual clever quips, you purse your lips in silence and subconsciously hug the bouquet closer to your chest to keep his space as unoccupied by your presence. The sudden turn of events has your head spinning and your heart racing enough for the thumps to be felt by your hands. 

How did he find out where you worked? Where was he even taking you and what was he planning to do with you? Why was he acting as if you had not angered him just two nights ago? 

You don’t think you’ll be getting the answer any time soon, particularly the latter question, but when your stomach growls loudly, eliciting a crackle of a laugh from Jin, the awkward tension in your muscles eases ever so slightly. 

“...s-sorry… I skipped breakfast.”

“I know,” he puts the car into neutral at the red light and turns to peer at you with a smug look that says he could still read you like an open book, “because you always skip breakfast. I hid some pastry in the bouquet.” 

“What?” you scrunch your nose but immediately dive your scavenging hands into the flowers; and sure enough, you find your favorite cream-filled bread of his warm in your hands and you can’t stifle the smile that spreads on your lips. “Why would you even do that?”

“Well, in case you suddenly got really jacked and physically refused to come with me, then at least you would have something to eat.”

“No,” you giggle, “I meant why would you hide the bread in the bouquet…”

His eyes brighten like a lightbulb, as if only now recalling the genius plan he had crafted himself, “oh, because then you can sneak a bite without having to leave your desk! It always worked with our backpacks, didn’t it?” 

Your sights fall to the bouquet and you can only reply with a sheepish grin, “right… it sure did.”

The engine purrs to life again when the light turns green and the remainder of the car ride is filled with the smooth drift of his ride and the ceaseless albeit completely welcomed humming from his lips. The old Jin never had enough of an incentive to drive, although his parents always suggested gifting him a brand new car and you had begged him to take the offer out of boredom and a never-ending desire to escape far away from university, but something about this moment in time has you feeling cozy, belonging, and at home. It’s almost like it was meant to be. 

But the silver ring shining around his finger under the angle of the sun is a dreadful reminder that it isn’t. 

So, as a slap to yourself back into reality, you fracture this perfect moment you would have once framed in that hopeless mind of yours, “so… how did you find out where I worked?”

“Ah,” his right hand casually slips onto the back of your headrest. “Still haven’t figured out, rank 292?”

“No, I haven’t, rank 295.” 

“First,” he raises a finger, “I asked some people through the grapevines and eventually your friend Alex gave out.”

Grumbling under your breath, you curse, “damn it, Alex.”

“And second,” he raises another finger before proclaiming firmly, “I’m proving you wrong.” 

“Proving me wrong?” you articulate with a scoff. “You’re going to prove me wrong? Right, keep dreaming.”

“I’m not going to prove you wrong, I am proving you wrong," he insists before shifting the car to neutral and leaning in toward you, gaze brimming with conviction locked with your own wary ones, as if ready to spill a secret sworn by the two of you and hidden from the rest of the universe. 

He's close enough for his minty breath to graze your burning cheeks, to breathe a vigorous life previously unknown by your dull five years. Heart pumping and lungs barely working, daring not to budge for being caught under the sway of his gravitational force, you can hardly catch him when he finally speaks.

"I haven't forgotten, Y/N,” he utters, “I'm a man of my word."

❀ ❀ ❀

Promise one. 

"I'll cook every meal for you for an entire day."

Promise two. 

"I'll bring flowers to you at work."

His unabashed, overly detailed tactic to ask for your hand in marriage still echoes from a time long past. Hopes for those promises were weakened by each passing second but unequivocally unassailed at birth. Eventually, smothered and disheartened, you had been forced to cut ties and confront the reality of broken promises and broken dreams. You had once somehow convinced yourself things would never return to the ways they once were, and, yet, here he is having returned by your side and here you are enraptured by the utter joy in his laughs after all this wavering time. 

It's like a dream come true; and if this indeed all just a nightmarish dream bound to death, you wish you never swore allyship to this alcohol, for now your only wish is for it to succumb you into a deep, long slumber. 

“I toooooooold you I don’t like paaaaasta!” you whine, the drag of your voice manifesting in white puffs in the still chilly spring air. The sudden transition between the warmth of his house to the frozen world outside has you spiraling into a series of trips and stumbles; and as always, your best friend Jin is the only one to hold you up, which is a good thing considering how you would’ve been tumbling into the death trap of a river beneath this bridge. “So whyyyy did you make me pastaaaaaaa? Whyyyyyyy?”

“What? Why’re you blaming me?” he retorts, obviously taking offence. “You always loved pasta! You ate it every single day at uni!” 

“I diiiiid love pasta,” you say through barely parted lips, “but it’s all just… just carbs, carbs, carbssss…” 

“Since when did you care about carbs?” Jin frowns, poking your cheeks that lean against his sturdy arms. “Should I call the police?” 

Your brows furrow and you lift your head to narrow your eyes at him, “what? Why?” 

And as soon as those words slip from your lips and he raises his finger-gun hands, you wish you hadn’t asked in the first place. 

“Because I think you’re an impasta,” his finger guns transform into jazz hands after you stare at him in dumbfounded silence, “...badumtsss….”

A series of empty blinks are exchanged, as if neither of you had just witnessed his most tragic dad joke to date; and so, you swiftly continue with a sigh, “I think… I think I started caring ever since heee mentioned I was getting fat.”

“I can’t believe you just ignored my unprecedented joke…” he grumbles to himself but lets out a little huff when he catches you from tipping over. Wordlessly, he hooks his arm with yours to keep you close to him. “And this ‘he’ you mention, who’s he?” 

“Heee.” 

“Who? Who’s ‘heeee’?” he spouts with pouty lips and a raised chin, flailings his body, and therefore yours, about every which way like a toddler. “Who’s this man I have to beat up, huh? He better square up!”

“I don’t think you could beat him up…” you mumble, eyes heavy but determined enough to reach his own flabbergasted ones. “It’s Jooooon, dummy, Kim-Nam-Joon, the boy I shared my first kiiiiss with…”

“Kim Namjoon?!” his eyes widen. “You think I wouldn’t be able to beat up that nerd?!”

You almost manage to push Jin away the foot of the bridge if it weren’t for his firm lock around you. “Have you seen his muscles?! He might not look like it with his books and all but he worked out all the time!”

“Yeah, well,” his lips sputter, “well, have you seen my muscles?!”

“No—” you freeze when you realize the sturdiness of his arm against your head is existing proof against your word, and maybe it’s because of his obvious flexing at this moment, but you could not believe just how built his arms had grown in the past five years, “—and I don’t want to.” 

“Hah! You just don’t want to admit that I’m right. C’mon, I’ll show you. You feel it, huh? You feel it?” he flexes persistently, twisting and turning to maximize his little showcase. “So? You think I can beat him up now?” 

“Well…” your voice trails off, mind clearly preoccupied with sticking your cheeks to his arm like glue in a somewhat fruitful attempt to hide the flush in your face. “You don’t really need to beat him up…”

“What?” he almost yells. “Why not? He called you fat!”

“Well, he…” your shoulders rise with each confession, “he said one of my dresses looked tight on me…”

“And?”

“...and he wasn’t exactly wrong…”

“So?”

“...so he didn’t actually say anything offhandedly…”

“What? You should’ve told me earlier!” Jin exclaims, arms thrown high into the air and consequently pushing your helpless self onto the hillside grass beside the run of the river. Lips gaping and eyes popping, you watch him in full offense as he mumbles to himself before resuming his stroll down the hill. “And here I am getting worked up over nothing… can’t believe I thought I could play hero for once…”

“Hey, Jin, what do you mean by that?” you call out to him. “Wait! I said wait for me, Jin!”

When your rhetorical questions are answered with silence, you hasten to your feet in order to catch up with those damn wide strides of his. Damn it, how did he make it halfway down the hill already? Each of your exclamations are unsurprisingly disobeyed by the boy who just throws his head back over his shoulder with that cheeky grin of his as he quickened his pace. Following suit, your strides turn into a jog and your jogs turn into a full out sprint until the both of you are full on running the 100 meters dash, one chasing and one fleeing, wind blowing refreshingly into your heated face and into your tangled locks and inflated lungs that relish in the breath of life. 

In the midst of all the chaotic bliss of an epiphany, you find yourself screaming and laughing at the top of your lungs...

“Hey! Jin! I swear I”m gonna kick your ass!”

...and it’s at this moment in time that you realize having forgotten what it means to be a fool who lived and not to live to be a fool. 

At some point in time, after having caught up to the knucklehead and giving a piece of your mind, the two of you settle down along the concrete ledge beside the river after a jittery, welcomed high. The sunset that followed was a pleasant surprise that had you two reminiscing over the countless mornings and evenings you had spent watching the sun rise and set together whilst churning throughout tireless exam nights. Pink, golden streaks now hidden behind a thick coating of midnight blue embellished by magical glitters all throughout, tonight’s stargazing becomes a first for the two of you. 

As much as you hoped you could numb yourself from the inevitable aftereffects of this death wish of a dreamy day, you can’t help but smile, thankful to have been completely sober to engrave this night into memory. 

“So...” Jin’s utter is the first to break the silence. He turns his head to give you a playful look of eyes that beams with wary curiosity, “...you started dating Namjoon after I left?”

“Mm… maybe,” you hum, “why? Got a problem with that?”

“What? Psh, what? Why would I have a problem with that?” he snorts. “The only problem I would have is the fact that you never asked me for permission.”

Your eyes widen, almost threateningly, “are you saying I need permission from a man to date another man? Not to mention a man who abandoned me without warning!” 

“Okay, first of all, it’s not my fault you cancelled your phone plan! I called and called, I tried everything I could even though I was deadbeat tired every day. It’s not my fault I thought you hated my guts! So please just understand that I didn’t abandon you, alright?” he spills in an endless stream akin to a water faucet left on the highest setting, clearly a performance either practiced in private or incited by years of pent up pressure. You can practically see the steam shooting out of his fiery red ears and the accompanying whistle manifesting into words; and by the time his chest is heaving, his lungs are panting and very dramatically so, and his eyes flicker nervously between you and the passing water, you can’t help but snicker. Unsurprisingly, your lack of empathy elicits an unamused look on his face. “Hey, hey, what’re you laughing at, huh?” 

“Me? Oh, nothing,” your hands move into your laps and you bat your eyes innocently, “it’s just that I can’t believe you’re blaming me, a helpless, poor girl with absolutely no connections, for cancelling her phone plan as a last resort to make ends meet.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he warns with an accusatory finger, “don’t you dare think I’ll fall for that eye blinking and whatever cute act you’re playing up again!” 

“Why?” you pout, almost cringing at your own antics. “Am I not cute?”

“No, you’re hurting my eyes. Plus, if anyone’s cute here,” he declares adamantly before puffing his cheeks and poking one with his forefinger, “it’s me.”

The both of you stare at the other for a stagnant few seconds, one completely dedicated to his performance and the other utterly flabbergasted by what plays out before her. 

The only word you manage to crank out is a, “uh…”

“What do you think?” he raises another finger to poke his other cheek. “I practiced just for you.” 

“Um… you’re 27 now, Jin.”

“So?” he tilts his head in the other direction. “Still 22 and young at heart.”

“Yeah? Then I’m still 22 and still equally disgusted by aegyo—” just as he parts his lips to provide another rebuttal, you quickly add in “—by your aegyo.” 

And just like that, the man drops his boyish character just as quickly as he had stepped into it. He mumbles, dropping his hands and shooting an equivocate look at you, “okay, tough crowd. Sorry, ma’am.”

It shouldn’t have been that hilarious nor should your response been so delayed, but it only takes a split second of his surrender for a thunderous cackle to slip from your lips. Throwing your head back and peering at the dangling stars above, you allow yourself a moment to close your eyes and take a deep breath of the incoming wind. The fresh petrichor of spring and the earthiness of mowed grass whisks themselves into the cold, clean breeze from the vast body of water. Thin locks of hair grazes across your cheeks, swaying in the wind as does your spirit. Years are lifted from your shoulders and all that is left is the heaviness that remains in your chest; nevertheless, you have never felt so free from the past. 

“Also,” he adds nonchalantly, cocking his head to look at you, “I wasn’t speaking from the position of a man. I was speaking as a best friend. As your best friend.” 

And just like that, sitting side by side and sharing a cool breeze, it’s almost as if all these moments of remorse, spilled tears, and unreleased frustration were made to build the climax to this grand finale: the night you can finally speak your truth. 

“It’s funny how things never change, huh?” you say when your eyes flutter open and you find Jin looking over with a fondness identical to the one you’ve spotted years before. “We can split for five years, thinking one hates the other’s guts, and reunite again as best friends… as if nothing had ever happened.”

Jin chuckles, hands grabbing to the ledge and head lolling back to join you but his eyes remain fixated on you, “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. Are we vampires and we just don’t know it?”

“Yeah, well, I’m not sure either… not sure about the good thing and not the vampire thing, that is,” your laugh settles into silence when you spot the reflected light inflicted by the ring around his finger, sitting on the ledge just an inch away from yours. Close enough to touch but far enough to confirm an unequivocal truth. Sighing, you turn your head to meet his intent gaze with a bittersweet upturn to your lips, “normally, I really despise the idea of change; but lately, when I think about how things might never change between us, how we’ll always banter as a pair of stupid best friends, I start wanting it more than ever.”

Is this the moment? Is it all really happening right now? Judging by the course of your blithe actions, if change is what you’re looking for, then change is what will surely ensue after tonight. Whether for the good or for the worse, you’ll take a reluctant guess of the latter. 

The man scrunches his brows before playing it off with a nervous laugh, “what do you mean things haven’t changed? You dated Namjoon, probably got it on a few times here or there—”

“—what—”

“—please don’t confirm,” he butts in with a raised hand, “and I have, too. Sure things have changed!”

“Ooh?” you raise a brow, genuinely shocked. “You finally got some experience under your belt? I’m impressed, Mr. Kim.”

“Hey,” he scolds, “what do you mean by ‘impressed?’” 

“Well, I should’ve known… figuring you’re about to be a married man and all…” you mumble, forcing a smile despite the sudden dip in your mood. Turning your head to stare off into the opposite end of the river where the black silhouette of skyscrapers lie, you curse yourself mentally. You really thought you could get away with the inevitable truth for the entire day? “You know, I can’t believe I almost forgot that you’re getting married in less than a week. Almost like how I couldn’t believe you almost forgot our promises.”

“I told you Kim Seokjin is a man of his words.”

“You sure about that? Promise one: cook for me for an entire day. Check. Promise two: gift me flowers at work. Check,” you turn around once again to look him firmly in the eyes and it’s almost as if the both of you know what’s about to come next. “What about the three other promises, Kim Seokjin?” 

“Y/N…” his voice trails off but his gaze never leaves yours, almost as if too afraid to be misconstrued as another betrayal. 

Quick-mindedly, you chime, “stop looking at me so seriously! I’m just joking! Promise three: you won’t break my heart. How could you after a wonderful day like this? Promise four: you won’t forget our promises. Clearly, you remember. And promise five: you’ll keep all your promises. Check.”

“Y/N,” he stifles every wince but you can tell by the way his feet have stopped kicking into the void. “I don’t think I’ve kept all those promises.” 

“Well,” you shrug, pressing your lips into a line tightly, “I only see checks in my book, Jin. You’re good to go—”

“—no, Y/N, you need to listen to me,” he says sternly; and when your mouth falls agape and your head slightly nods, his wary eyes searching for a steady sign in the windows to your soul, he continues calmly, “my marriage is actually an arranged marriage.”

“Your—” you blink blankly, jaw almost falling to the floor “—your, you, what?”

An arranged marriage. 

All this time, all this pain, all this heartbreak of wanting to do something about your feelings but remaining hopeless because of an unrequited love… turns out to be an active, fully conscious decision? Not a falling out of love, not a helpless affection for another woman, but a matchmaking handcrafted without the heavens?

“My,” he has to stop himself just as his breath hitches, “my father... arranged it. ” 

“What? Why? Is it because he prefers you with a well off family?” 

“What? No,” he shakes his head with a slight upcurve to his lips that you’ve never quite seen before. Watching him hook a hand to the nape of his neck, clearly avoiding your eyes, you have an inkling of something much worse than the presented news. “You know my father would never do that… it has nothing to do with money...”  

“But you left this town for money, didn’t you? For a better job, a better pay, a better life, and for the sake of your dignity as a dutiful son, are you telling me none of those were related to money?” 

His eye twitches by your name-calling, clearly pained once again despite knowing very well of your precedent dislike toward his silver spoon background and his nonnegotiable obedience. Each second of silence culminates a tension even more formidable than the last. Guilt intoxicates your boiling blood enough for you to bite your tongue and hold yourself back; because after accusing him of holding onto his dignity, you, yourself, could not forfeit that of your own either. 

Worse yet, you’re a complete hypocrite. 

“Why can’t you just tell him to call it off?” 

You never knew silence could be so deafening.

“So… so do you...” you begin hesitantly. Usually, with your eyes locked with his, a thousand words would have been exchanged with each passing second; but now, with gazes that wade through the tides of the unknown, for the first time ever, you don’t recognize the mystery before you. “Do you... love her?” 

His lips part slowly, but no time in the world would be enough for him to find the right words. To you, his silence is as clear as any possible answer. Something sinks in you, perhaps after acknowledging the implications behind his choice to leave your question unanswered, but your blood boils from the audacity of those apologetic eyes that, even now, never stray from yours… as if this minute of sincerity would be enough to mend the inevitable decade of scars. 

You begin slowly, failing to hide the shakiness of your deep breaths, “...then what about the baby?”

“What baby...?” his face contorts with a frown until, out of the blue, something flickers across his numerous expressions: confusion, remembrance, contemplation. His hesitation that ensues might have been fleeting but its infliction upon your shattered trust will surely remain. “Oh, that… that was just a rumor my aunt spread because of the sudden marriage.” 

“And,” you force yourself to breathe, scattering for something, anything to throw at him, “and you don’t think you could’ve told me sooner?”

The man scrunches his brows, “and that would’ve helped, how?” 

“‘How?’” you repeat, as if it was the dumbest question you had ever heard. Mirroring his expression, your eyes avert between him and the river as scoffs of utter disbelief escape you. “‘How?’ What do you mean ‘how?’”

“I mean exactly that!” his voice suddenly escalates to a level of frustration you’ve never quite heard from him before. “How would it have changed anything? Why would you need to know earlier?”

Gawking, you exasperate desperately, “you know why!” 

“No, I might be your best friend but don’t expect me to just read your mind!”

“It’s cause...” you swing your leg over the ledge to face the sidewalk with your back on Jin as soon as you could feel an incoming constriction at the back of your throat, a notorious sign shared just between the two of you that waterworks were about to appear. Breathing slowly and doing just about everything to keep your voice from shaking, and fruitlessly so, you mumble before standing to your feet, “...you know what? I don’t even know anymore. I’m sorry. Nevermind.”

Why did you ever think you would have a chance? 

Is this it? Is this really it? The end? 

The questions come crashing into you as you make your retreat, head hanging low and palms drying the inconvenient tears that mark your face. After all the confidence you had built up, after finally thinking—actually, believing—you could get over him tonight, how humiliating is it that you’re now running away from a reality that would eventually and inevitably engulf you? 

The worst part of it is, Jin, like the best friend and good man that he is, persists to chase after you. You don’t have to hear the quickened footsteps of his usual wide, well-paced strides to know he’s coming. You don’t have to hear the calls he makes on the top of his lungs for you to know he’s on his way. 

As someone who so helplessly fell in love with their best friend, you just know he would be there through thick and thin—whether you like it or not. 

“Y/N!” Jin hollers; and when he finally catches up to you, having to sprint and consequently inciting for you to surrender with an abrupt stop to your path, every bit of air is knocked from your lungs. Arms wrapping over your waist and enveloping you into a tight hug, you can feel his heart pounding against your back. 

To most, it should have been the perfect method to comfort a crying friend; so, damn it, why does it only make you cry harder? 

“What?” your voice cracks as you just barely manage to smear the following tears within the wrap of his bear hug. “Damn it, Jin, why can’t you leave me alone for once?”

Head resting on yours, his voice is muffled by your hair as he murmurs, “I can’t just leave my best friend crying like that. I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m sorry.” 

He embraces you. He embraces you not only physically through the silence but also through the emotional rollercoaster that comes with it. He, Kim Seokjin, your best friend, holds you through the ups and downs and the rights and the wrongs. He even holds you now, comforting you in the hurricane that you brewed without ever knowing and never caring that he had, in fact, not committed any wrongdoing. If anything, you must be in the wrong. 

And when you put it that way, how could you blame yourself for falling in love with him?

“Jin… I’m sorry, I tried everything to stop myself but,” your voice shakes but your courage prospers, “but I just, I just really, really love you.” 

A second passes. 

Now, two. 

Then, three. 

Something strikes against your chest when the surreality of the situation settles into reality. His silence could mean many things, but the tightening of his embrace could only mean one. Blood flushes your cheeks as you lament over his sensation of your fervent heartbeats. Secrets thrown out into the spring air, your heated cheeks are equally exposed to the passing, chilly zephyr. 

He knows you love him. At this moment, he can physically feel the proof of your love and there’s nothing he can do about it. 

“Sorry,” you manage to blurt under your breath, “I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget I said—”

—the remaining words dissipate into thin air when he places his hands firmly on your shoulder and whirls you around. Face just inches away from his, you barely catch wind of his declaration before the unthinkable occurs…

“Too late. I don’t want to.”

...and his lips meet yours. 

It’s everything you have ever imagined. Years of admiring those plush lips, wondering what it would be like to feel the warmth of those wonders pressed against yours, are finally coming to fruition… except they don’t. His hands fall from your shoulders to the small of your back, but your hands don’t intertwine behind the back of his neck like you imagined. Instead, they hover in midair, hesitant to embrace him in your arms. Why? With your eyes and his fluttered closed and an audible deep sigh that signals a desire finally satisfied from the both of you, reality still manages to twist a dream-come-true. 

Does he actually love you or does he only pity you?

Finally, and ever so suddenly, your hands firmly push against his chest to plant an arm’s distance from you and him.

“Sorry…” you pant, avoiding those intense eyes. “We… we can’t do this.” 

“What?” Jin raises a brow, taking a step forward as you take one back. “Why not?”

Wordlessly, you point at his ring finger.

“Oh,” he chuckles nervously, hand scratching the back of his neck. You can only watch his every move, your stare gradually becoming a glare. Rosy hues coloring his cheeks, he speaks sheepishly, “I forgot we’re in public.”

His nonchalance irks you to your core. There isn’t any other way to put it. Blithe and dense have always been your favorite traits of his, but now that he’s here? Planting buds he could never sustain and sending mixed signals despite knowing of your feelings in an unfitting circumstance were never things you knew Jin for.  

“I-I don’t get it, Jin,” you shake your head. “I don’t think we should see each other any more. In any context. Not even after the wedding.” 

With his hands buried into his pockets and shoulders high enough to hide his reddened ears, he glances up at you, alert. “What? Why? What don’t you get?”

“It’s ‘cause... I just don’t get… this. I don’t get us,” you articulate, struggling to find the right words. “Why are you so… nonchalant about this? Why are you kissing me? Is it out of pity? Is it because I said I liked you—”

“—Y/N,” he says lowly like the drop of his previously cheerful mien, “you know I would never do something like that.” 

“Then why?! Why are you doing this to me? Do you love her or not?” you pause for a second to stifle the crack in your voice but, alas, all is in vain. “...and do you even… love me?”

He frowns, the tension in his body evident by the knitting of his brows as he struggles, “I… Y/N...”

“So you can’t admit that you love her and you can’t even lie to say you love me. So why the hell are you throwing away an entire marriage just to kiss me?” your scoff comes out more so like a plea. “You’re confusing me, Jin—”

“—that’s,” he abruptly pauses to stop himself from exploding, taking a deep breath before continuing, “that’s exactly why I can’t say it, Y/N! I don’t want to confuse you. I don’t want to disappoint my father. I-I don’t want to complicate matters more!”

“Then why the hell did you kiss me?!”

“I don’t know, okay?!” he throws his hands in the air. “I don’t know! It was a spur of the moment! I couldn’t stop myself from chasing after you and when I hugged you—I-I just wanted to, alright? I’m sorry.”

He’s... sorry. 

Sorry for kissing you, sorry for acting as if your feelings had been reciprocated, sorry for breaking all the promises he made and pretending like he was going to patch things up again tonight. Speaking your mind and hearing his words are all that you need to finally understand what you need to do. Your heart drops but you hold your head high because your final verdict is the right thing to do. Maybe this time you’ll finally be able to cease these useless feelings. What's the point in pursuing a hopeless love? 

The only one you would be hurting is yourself. 

This epiphany, in itself, is enough to drape an ephemeral clarity over your frenzic self; and just like a bandaid over a scar, you’re able to function, if only just temporarily.

“Hey, Jin?” you call out softly to the boy kicking at nothing on the bare sidewalk. It’s hard not to melt under the delicate glance he throws over his shoulder. “I’m not… mad. Well, I kind of am. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m sorry for everything that I said about your upbringing. I know how close you are to your family. I’m sure you’ve been under a lot of pressure…”

“No, Y/N,” he shakes his head, turning his body to face you with a low hanging head, “it’s my fault. Even considering all that, I still shouldn’t have done that or any of this. I… I’m sorry for confusing you.”

Forcing a composed smile, you persevere, “do you have your fiance’s number?”

Head lifting with a frown, he answers, “yeah, what kind of a fiance would I be if I didn’t? Why though?”

“Right,” you say to yourself under your breath, hearing his ‘fiance’ echo relentlessly in your head. “I just need it, okay? To… to sort out everything...”

And just when you wonder how insensitive could this boy get...

“What?” he chuckles. “Are you going to fight for me?”

...it gets worse.

Rolling your eyes, you give him a hard, well-deserved slap against the chest before snickering at his loud wince and declaring your one last confession of the night. 

“No, I could fight for us, but I won’t singlehandedly fight for you,” you then declare with a bitter smile, “I will, however, tell her how jealous I am.”

And that's your most irrefutable confession, one that has Jin stupefied for the future midnights to come.

❀ ❀ ❀

Morning arrives much sooner than you had anticipated. White puffs mark the air whilst you wrap yet another layer of scarf around your neck. It seems as though the breeze from a night ago had intentionally danced around town, lingering and spectating on the resolution of your five year long love conundrum. Ironically enough, the two of you reunite at the very spot where everything had first started… except this time, everything will finally end.

The pain he had marked in you inflicted by the words he could not bring himself to say still stains your every waking second.

“You have to do this. You can do this,” you incessantly chant to yourself, pacing back and forth beside the most prominent cherry blossom tree in town. “You have to do this. You can do this—”

“—Y/N, is that you?”

What you presume to be Youngji’s voice perks your ears. Looking up, you spot her holding a phone in her hands as she flickers between you and her screen. A quizzical quirk of the brow plasters across your face as you wave at her and she jogs over to you as quickly as she could in that pink, wool poncho and those tan, fluffy boots. “Hey, Youngji, right?” 

“Yeah,” she says in between each pant of breath, “that’s me.” 

Her hands immediately find refuge on her knees whilst she bends over to catch her breath. Typically, you’re the very self-aware type, but there isn’t anything you could do to stop yourself from staring. The girl strikes you as… flamboyant. With her dark red pigtails, bright smile, and dainty attire, she’s everything you’ve always imagined a female version of Jin would be like. It’s hard not to wonder… maybe an arranged marriage really can be a match made in heaven, but you force yourself out of that rabbit hole before having another breakdown in front of an innocent stranger. 

The tang of jealousy, however, refuses to budge. 

“Sorry, for,” she pants, holding her hand up to show you her phone screen, “calling out to you like that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you squint at the sight of the screen displaying a candid photo of you, taken on this very street on that very day, as you stuffed one of his breads in your mouth. Drawn on your face is a mustache and a unibrow. “Did Jin do—”

“—Jin gave me a terrible reference photo.” 

Scoffing, you cross your arms, “damn it, Jin.”

Youngji crackles into a firework of uncontrollable laughter, rendering you stupefied. After a literal minute passes by, she finally manages to speak in between the bursts of giggles that follow, “you two—” giggle “—really are—” giggle “—close, huh?” And as a grand finale, she slaps her stomach with a loud sigh of relief that her laughs have come to an end. When she notices you staring at her bewilderedly, a light bulb flashes through her as she gasps and feigns a whimper, “o-oh! Ow! M-my baby!”

“You know you don’t have to pretend, right?” you can only let out a laugh of disbelief because you still can’t take in the mirror image your best friend. “Jin already told me about the fake pregnancy.” 

“Oh, in that case,” she smiles widely before giving her stomach one more big, satisfying slap, “see, you guys really are so close!” 

“I… I guess. I’m not sure if taking me out for one day after five years of radio silence really counts as close, though,” you then quickly add in with raised hands, “he only did so out of obligation, though! I swear it was nothing more!”

“Hmmm?” she hums, leaning in a curious ear with a cheshire-like smile. “Is it because of those promises he made?”

“...yeah, wait, he told you about those?” 

Of course he did, idiot, they’re engaged. 

“Well, something like that,” she shrugs, “so how much did he tell you?”

“About?” 

“About the wedding, silly!” 

“Uh, nothing much really. The pregnancy was a false rumor, the marriage was arranged by his father…”

“Father?” she inquires, watching you closely with those big, round eyeballs of hers. 

“Yes?” you hesitantly nod. “Father?” 

“Ah,” she nods, as if she finally catches drift of something, “I see.” 

“Oh yeah,” you add, “I also found out it’s on my birthday.”

“What?!” her eyes grow wider, if they even possibly can. “Jin never told me that! What the heck, man? A wedding? On his best friend’s birthday?!” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know right?” you nod passively before coming to an abrupt stop. “Wait, what? Why does it matter to you?”

“Of course it matters to me! You’re Jin’s best friend, aren’t you? You have no idea how much he talks about you back home. I know you so well that sometimes I feel like you might be my best friend,” she chimes before reaching out to cup your hands in hers. “Let’s celebrate properly with Jin after the wedding, okay?” 

“Um, sure…”

But you don’t exactly plan on unnecessarily sticking around his life for any longer than the wedding… except, seeing how close she must be with Jin in addition to her loose-lip impression, you decide not to tell her that. 

“So,” she drops her hands to the side, “what did you need to tell me?” 

Why did you call her to meet you here again? After witnessing her flamboyant entrance, it’s hard for you to keep yourself from derailing. 

“Oh, um,” you scratch the back of your head awkwardly, “I just wanted to meet my best friend’s fiance, that’s all.”

“Ahhh, I see.”

The woman pauses, nodding at you intently almost as if waiting for the real intentions to be revealed. Damn it, either you’re a literal open book or she reincarnated from the same soul as Jin’s. 

“So…” you purse your lips. “Are you okay with it? The arranged marriage, I mean?” 

“Well,” she shrugs, finally dropping the smile from her lips. “At first I hated the thought of it. I felt like I didn’t really have a choice, but… when I met Jin—” a smile is hinted in the corner of her lips and in the sparkle of her eyes “—I thought ‘I’m pretty lucky girl, aren’t I?’ I think the world must have finally taken pity on me.”

A soft, stifled laugh slips from you as your eyes fall to the ground and a bittersweet smile accompanies your lips, “yeah, you’re pretty lucky.” 

“Don’t get me wrong though,” your eyes immediately shoot up to find her raising defensive hands, “it wasn’t some sort of a love at first sight. He’s handsome, sure, but—”

“—a marriage is a lifelong commitment—”

“—exactly,” she sighs, “I didn’t really know him, but when I was forced to spend time with him… I thought if I had to get married, then he would be the best option. He’s not a bad guy.” 

“No,” you smile in your reverie, shaking your head, “he's not a bad guy at all; and when you really get to know him, his stupid dorky self, I think it’s impossible not to fall for him.” 

“Yeah?” 

“He’s mean when he jokes around but he’s actually very kind, he’s sensitive when you poke him where it hurts but he hides it deceptively well, he’ll apologize for being wrong when the both of you clearly know you’re in the wrong, he’ll cook and wear the hottest pink clothes he can find because ‘to hell with societal norms,’ he’ll tell you the dumbest dad jokes but I promise you’ll get used to them eventually, ” you let out a reminiscent laugh that comes out more like a sigh, “and, sometimes, very rarely, he’ll hurt you unintentionally, of course, but he’ll always go out of his way to make it up because that’s just… that’s Jin. That’s my best friend.” 

A breeze passes by to perfectly mark the end of your cadence. Branches rustle above you and freshly budded cherry blossom petals flutter their way toward the grass underneath the two of you only to be risen once again by a following zephyr. Having been there throughout his and your lives, it’s almost as if the long-standing tree is agreeing to attest to your words. 

“Wow,” Youngji finally says after witnessing your truthful albeit embarrassing spoken love letter, “I… I wouldn’t doubt any of it… but why are you telling me? Shouldn’t you be telling Jin?” 

“I’m telling you, because,” you emphasize, “because I'm jealous of your position but I can't do anything about it so I want you to take good care of Jin. I just… I need to know he’ll be in good hands. I want him to be loved like the way that he loves. You’ll do that, won’t you?”

Youngji just nods. It’s the most somber response you’ve ever seen from her. Almost like the joining of hands in marriage has finally become reality. 

“Do you…” you struggle to squeeze out of the knot in your throat, “do you love him…?” 

“Y/N—” she begins but suddenly lets go of whatever she must have had planned “—yes, yes I do.” 

“And… you’ll take care of him?” 

Youngji bobs her head lightly, “yes, I will.”

“Promise?” 

“...promise.”

“Okay, then I’m entrusting him to you, and,” you smile, leaning forward to shake her hands before heaving one last sigh, “and this time, please keep the promise.” 

❀ ❀ ❀

A curse sinks into the thickness of the sapphire dusk that quickly descends upon the hushed city. Keys tinkle to decorate the silence of tonight’s resting wind, a silence that would have been accompanied by an equally passive woman and an oblivious man whose hands persist to fumble to his guest’s dismay. 

Standing before a small willow, vintage-looking store tucked away in the corner of downtown, an inaudible breath ascends a cloud of white that momentarily shrouds the grand interior peeking from spotless windows that line the exterior. Golden warm studio lights illuminate the gorgeously exquisite ivory gowns from the trailing trains up to its waterfalls of dainty veils. Velvet suits and satin neckties accompany each headless mannequin, welcoming each passerby to imagine themselves in their wildest fairytales… your hand in his and his in yours as a fleeting moment becomes a sealed promise of a lifelong loyalty. 

Breath completely taken away, you, yourself, almost fall prey to your own far-fetched dreams. 

“I thought I said we shouldn’t meet up anymore,” your forced mutters drag you from your short-lived reveries, “why did you bring me here?”

“You said we shouldn’t meet up anymore, yet here you are,” Jin chirps before cheering to himself under his breath once the key finally clicks into place, “yes! Old man must have purposely given me these rusty old keys.”

Crossing your arms, you retort, “I came because you said your close friend from home would be here, too.”

Turning around to face you with his back to the door and a hand on the golden knob, he raises a quizzical brow, “and… are you not my close friend from home?” 

“I thought you meant the other—”

“—this is my home, Y/N,” he says firmly, looking straight at you, “and I want my best friend to see me in my wedding suit before anyone else.” 

“But why me…?”

“Because I only care about your opinion.”

He answered without hesitation, but in your head you figure he must have forgotten about Youngji, the true spotlight of the show.

Gritting your teeth, a staredown begins between the two of you; but the longer you face those unequivocal looks of determination in his eyes, the hotter your cheeks become in the middle of a contrastingly chilly night.  

“Alright, fine.” 

“Thanks,” he gives you a small, lopsided smile before pushing the door open with his back and ushering you in with a slight bow, “ladies first.”

Your eyes roll but not for very long when you step foot into the store and your mouth falls agape. The ceiling is much higher than you had perceived from outside, the sides are lined with grand, wooden staircases that lead to a second floor where hundreds upon hundreds of white dresses and black suits find purchase along the hangers, and the click of your heels against the marble tiles of the entrance floor echo into the extravagant expanse. 

The wooden insulation of the store proves infallible when the door closes behind Jin and the shrewd air leaves you to a much more bearable surrounding. Standing affixed to the entrance, you watch as Jin strides toward the carpeted floor where a taupe curtain hanging from the ceiling drapes over a raised platform sits across its partner platform in the opposite of the room. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so enraptured by something aside from me,” Jin chuckles as he begins stripping the suit off of a black, velvety mannequin before pointing at the mannequin standing beside the opposite platform, “oh, why don’t you try on some dresses while I’m at it?” 

“What?” you scoff, finally taking a step onto the carpet. “First off, I never stared at you like that before. Second, why the hell would I do that? It’s your wedding, not mine.” 

“I asked the store owner for permission and picked a dress for you to try on,” he continues, finally stopping in the midst of unbuttoning his white, collared shirt when he looks up to find the fear in your eyes. “Hey, haven’t you always wanted to try one of these?”

“Yeah,” you laugh in disbelief because he actually listened to your past rambles, “but never under these circumstances.”

“C’mon, you never know if you’ll ever have a chance like this again,” he gestures once more when he notices the start of your contemplation, “c’mon, go on!”

You really don’t want to. It’s that nagging feeling of something going completely wrong tonight if you were to succumb and let yourself go. After all, your worst fear is yourself. It doesn’t feel right and you begin to wonder if it’s alright for you to hold onto this moment you’ve always dreamed about: dolling up and swearing your vows side by side with Jin. 

If you were to live out your fairytale, just for tonight, would you finally be able to sleep dreamlessly at night? 

“...fine,” you groan and storm across the room, tossing your purse into the ruby sofas and stepping onto the platform. Turning around to face a gleeful Jin, you’re about to scowl at him until your eyes flicker between the cheeky grin on that youthful face and those sculpted abdomen of his elevated by the lighting above. Cheeks flushing red, you gulp at the unseen sight before clutching the curtain in your hands and swinging it closed with a mumble, “and at least have some decency and use the curtains, God damn it…”

The freezing touch of your hands doesn't hold a candle to the heat of your face. Trying to calm your racing heart, you curse to yourself at the way he merely cackles at you and, even worse, the way your heart intensifies in response. 

“Yes, ma’am!” 

“...shut up,” you say more to yourself and your deafening heart.

The gown standing before you, however, is no help to your case either, for when you glance over the dress, the long train that could awe an entire room, the complimenting silhouette that doesn’t scream too over-the-top but enough to fulfill the little girl within you, and the classic lace sleeves that you’ve gushed over whilst skimming through magazines, you realize Jin had always been attentive even when he was stuffing his face with bread or even when he was being petty over an argument and you tried to rectify with incessant small talk. 

It’s at this moment that you acknowledge the rabbit hole you had just willingly fallen into and the impossibility of its towering escape.

“So,” Jin calls out to you as the sound of rustling clothes fill the silent air, “what do you want for your birthday tomorrow?”

“My birthday? Oh, right,” you slam palm to your forehead, having dwelled over the marriage and consequently forgetting your own birthday. “Uh, nothing really. I haven’t really thought about it this year.” 

“Really? You? Y/N? Not planning her own birthday?” he gasps. “Who are you and what did you do to Y/N?”

“Oh, shut up. With age comes other problems to deal with...”

...problems like you.

“C’mon,” he chuckles. “You have to have something. You can’t tell me you’ve gotten every single thing checked off of that old ‘birthday gift ideas’ list you gave me.”

“I mean… I wouldn’t say I’m very far from it and it’s not like you were actually going to give me everything I asked for. Say, what did I even have on that list?” your eyes wander to the towering curtains that envelop you as your hands reach behind to the buttons on your back. “A bowl of your tofu soup, some pocket money, a matching sweater, a pair of earrings, a necklace, and a… ring.” The word slips from your lips and it floats in the stagnant air before you can even do anything about it. His silence rings in your ears, so you quickly add in, “but I don’t want materialistic stuff like that anymore.” 

“...oh, really?” 

“Nope,” you heave a heavy sigh and pat the poofy material of the skirt down, “I think I’ve come to realize that… I just want to be loved. I don’t need a dress or a necklace or a ring…  you wouldn’t understand, but I don’t just want to hear those words. I want to feel them. I want to be loved.” 

But only by him.

A lingering silence drifts long enough for you to start panicking until, finally, he answers, “no, I understand.” 

“...well,” you quickly chirp as you fumble with the lacey material of your dress, “enough about me, what do you want for your big day, hm?”

“Why would I need a present from you?” he remarks. You can hear him finishing his final touches and you can barely stop your heart from leaping out of your chest. “You’ve given me enough already.”

“You mean I’ve given you enough earfuls and tears,” you retort, clutching onto the curtains as you shut your eyes to muster every courage within you. “Isn’t there anything I can give you? Anything you want?”

Counting down to yourself, the curtains and drawn open in one, swift swing; and when your eyelids flutter open, you find him standing on the platform across from you, dressed in a classic black and white suit with the curtains clutched in his hands like a mirror image of you. He glances over you from head to toe, as you do to him, until the both of you settle in each other’s gazes for what seems like an eternity, willingly lost and ever-so-enraptured.

You almost forget this isn’t actually your wedding.

“This,” he answers with a soft smile, “this is enough.”  

“...stop it.”

JIn frowns, “stop what?”

“Stop… looking at me like that,” you articulate, hands covering your bashful grin. “It’s making me feel self-conscious.” 

“Hey, it’s not my fault I have such a good eye at picking clothes for you!” he says whilst pointing an accusatory finger. “I guess 22 year old Jin had a pretty good sense of fashion after all.” 

“You picked this five years ago…?” 

The man shrugs but his high chin says otherwise regarding his humility, “I told you Kim Seokjin is a prepared man of his word.” Eyes peering across to wink at you, he continues a bit more seriously, “I might not be able to fulfill all of our promises, but this is the closest I can to it.” 

“Jin… you’re…” you laugh in disbelief, bashfully avoiding his intent gaze, “...you’re so incredibly stupid that I can feel it from all the way here.” 

“Oh, yeah?” he grins mischievously and takes a step toward you and off the platform. “How about now?”

“Stop it, don’t spread your stupidity to me.”

He spreads his arms out wide whilst taking another few steps forward, “why not? Aren’t we supposed to be together through thick and thin?”

“No, not really,” you adamantly shake your head amidst a hysterical fit of giggles, “don’t come any closer.” 

“Oh, no,” he feigns worry. Another footstep. “I can’t stop myself.” He approaches even closer. “The stupidity is spreading!” 

With him just a footstep away, you cower behind the shield of your hands, “stop it, stop looking at me like that—”

—and just as you squeal, his arms wrap around you to pull you into a tight embrace.

Like two lost puzzle pieces, his hands fit perfectly in the small of your back and his chin rests comfortably in the crook of your neck. His hair grazes against your burning cheeks. His scent envelops you into a rosy haze. He could probably feel the beat of your chest against his, but you wouldn’t know when you’re preoccupied by the thuds of his own. You had never been aware of the lonesome emptiness you’ve felt all these years until now, under the warmth of his touch that completes your other half. 

You almost forget to breathe until he takes a deep breath and lets out a slow, dreary sigh. 

“You are so beautiful.” 

Under any other circumstances, you would have smacked him for lying. Perhaps it’s the stir of the starry skies or the impending occasion or even the look he made on his way to you with a gaze that oozed with absolute adoration, but something tells you he’s being his genuine self tonight… and that’s what you fear the most. 

“You shouldn’t be saying that, Jin,” you say, stroking his head buried in your shoulder, “and you shouldn’t be looking at any women but Youngji with those eyes.” 

Whether he’s quietly reflecting or stubbornly disagreeing, Jin remains silent. His breath entangles with yours, syncing with the wavelengths that you two have been running for an ongoing seven years and, perhaps, beyond. 

He frustrates you to your wits’ end. There’s nothing he hasn’t made you question. At times, when you’re tossing and turning in bed and hoping for a way out of that cavern of a mind, you wish time could skip to a year in which the voices no longer haunt you at night; and yet, when you’re here buried in his arms, you would do anything to freeze and relish this fragment in time. 

It isn’t right. You two aren’t right and you know it isn’t right… but how do you deny yourself of the cure to those deep scars when he, himself, wishes to be downed? 

It takes everything in you to finally drop your hands from his locks to his shoulder. Just as you’re about to deny the tempting elixir, Jin lifts his head along with his gaze that now meets yours, “Y/N, I have something I need to tell you.”

“...y-yeah?” 

The windows to his soul twinkle underneath the dim chandeliers above. Those starry dark brown eyes simply take your breath away.

“My dad,” his voice quivers like the water that wells in his eyes; and when you know he’s about to bawl, you pat his head ever-so-endearingly. Gulping, he finds the courage to continue, “he’s sick.” 

“Oh... oh, Jin,” you murmur, quickly wiping the few tears that drop onto his flush cheeks before bringing him into another tight embrace. “I’m sorry.” 

“I only moved—” and that’s what cracks his buoyant front into a full on bawl  “—I only moved to take care of him!”

“I understand.” 

He shakes his head, “I didn’t want to abandon you!” 

“No, Jin, I know,” your voice is buried underneath his whimpers, “I’m sorry for saying that. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” 

“I didn’t know things would turn out like this!” he cries, holding you even closer. “I didn’t know!” 

“It’s okay, Jin. Really, it’s okay. It’ll be okay.” 

“No, it won’t be okay,” his voice hitches in the midst of his hiccups, “my father is dying and now I’m walking down the aisle with a woman I don’t even love!” 

Your strokes come to a temporary stop because how could fate be so twisted? Who is it to decide whose time shall begin and whose time is up? You have to hold your breath along with the waterworks that sour your eyes. You can’t cry now. He needs your stability.

He needs you. 

“Did you…” you take a shaky breath, leaning back to watch him cover the messy state of his face, “did you tell your dad?”

“I-I couldn’t,” he stutters, voice muffled by his voice, “you know how long he’s been waiting for this.”

I know,” you ponder for a second before hesitating to continue, “...why didn’t you consider me?” 

“I—” his hiccup interrupts him as he roughly smears his tear-stained cheeks with his palms “—I thought you hated me. I didn’t think you would agree. I thought our promises were just a joke. But when you confessed that night, when you said you would fight for us—” his voice cracks again as he laughs at himself, eyes to the ground “—I thought damn, fuck, how did I mess up so hard? I should have fought for us. I’m so stupid—”

“—no you’re not—”

“—so fucking stupid!” 

His self-reprimanding curse echoes in the room. Each of his demeaning scorns inciting a fiery justice in you. 

“No,” you state, “you’re not stupid.” 

Without the dignity to face you, his hands clenched into fist and he continues with bangs shrouding his sorrowful eyes, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I hurt you—”

“—no, Jin, you did not—”

“—I messed us up—”

“—no, Jin, look at me, hey, look at me,” you place a finger under his chin to lift his spirits until those bloodshot eyes of his find refuge in yours. Smiling, you speak, “see? I’m okay. So what are you apologizing for?”  

“Aren’t you… mad?” 

“Mad? No, silly,” you laugh, wiping another tear. “Sad? Maybe.”

“See—”

“—sad because I wasn’t there by your side when you needed me… and maybe a bit sad that I won’t be the one holding you like this tomorrow,” you apologize with a soft smile over the latter jab that incites a wince from the boy. “Why didn’t you tell me about your father?” 

“I didn’t think it was that serious,” he hiccups, “and when I found out, I tried to call you but it didn’t go through.”

“Shit,” you curse under your breath, “I’m sorry.” 

“No,” he takes a deep breath to calm his high, “it’s not your fault.”

“And it’s not yours either,” you affirm, breaking out into a laugh when you take another look at his reddened eyes and dampened cheeks. “Look at you! Why are you looking like a mess on our wedding day, huh?! At least let us be ignorantly happy for one day!” 

“What…?” he frowns whilst hastily smearing every last evidence of his breakdown on his face. The result is an equally red, irritated skin across his cheeks. “What’re you talking about? Kim Seokjin never looks like a mess… hey, what’re you laughing at?!” 

“Look at your tie, idiot! What kind of a rich son are you if you can’t even tie it correctly? Come over here,” you say just as you grab the end of his necktie to pull him up onto the platform. With his necktie now at your eye-level, you begin to unravel whatever knot he had attempted. All the while, you can feel his gaze as he watches you do your thing, completely enamored. This time, it’s your turn to turn red. To distract yourself from the rising self-consciousness, you clear your throat, “call me whenever you’re going through a hard time, okay? I’ll give you my new number…”

The piece of fabric flails around into equally atrocious knots that Jin had previously created until you groan in frustration and disassemble everything. You had practiced this so many times while he was gone, foolishly believing it would come in handy the day he returned, but why does nothing ever work out the way you want it to? 

“I swear it worked last time I tried…”

Your best friend just watches silently, chuckling as you wrap the fabric around your own neck this time; and when he speaks, much steadier like the Jin you have always known, he looks you directly in the eye. “Youngji told me about your guys’ conversation.”

“Huh?” you pause as soon as your embarrassing declaration of love begins reciting itself in your head, but not even the resumed work of your hands could distract you from the ever-growing shade of red. “O-oh, that… what about it?” 

“I heard what you said about me.” 

“Yeah?” you hum nonchalantly, even though the trembling of your hands and the avoidance of your eyes from his give you away. “Well, did she tell you about all the complaints I made, too? About you being a stupid dork?”

“She did,” he utters before placing a finger below your chin to avert your attention to those dazzling works you desperately avoided, “but would you still be willing to marry this stupid dork?”  

“This isn’t even a real wedding,” you feign a frown under the spotlight of his intent gaze, “why are you asking me a question like that?”

“Sorry, I didn’t have the funds to hire a real priest.” 

“You don’t need to for a fake wedding.”

“I thought you said we should be ‘ignorantly happy for one day?’” 

The bantering just never stops, does it?

“Okay, well… to answer your question,” you mutter, eyes averting to the side, “under normal circumstances…”

“Under normal circumstances…” he repeats.

“Where you aren’t engaged…”

“Where I’m not engaged…”

“And your father approved of me…”

“And my father approved of you…”

“Then yes,” you say without hesitation, eyes returning to find a newfound comfort in his relieved gaze, “yes, I would marry you.” 

“And that’s why I love you,” Jin smiles, chuckling softly. “I’ll always want to marry you.”  

And just as a nearby clock tower strikes its church bells to signal the stroke of midnight, Jin grabs the end of your necktie and pulls you in to press his lips onto yours. The body of his warmth and the acceptance of an inevitable end to your paths serve as the last page of a book never to be read again; and yet, he holds himself close, refusing to let you go. 

But when the end nears and the magic of the bells resume time once again, the two of you pull away to catch your breaths. Forehead against yours, Jin gives you one last, fleeting kiss. 

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

❀ ❀ ❀

Deja vu would be the perfect term to describe this feeling.  You can almost see yourself in the room of hundreds, stealing glances at the man from afar. It only takes one blink for you to relive the rollercoaster of jubilance and confessions and tears. In the split second of darkness, the past week flickers before you like a film reel: breaking down in the middle of the hallway right in front of Jin, staring bewilderedly at the large bouquet in the hand of a man at the office, confessing with tears that stain your face and sobs that conquer your voice, meeting the woman who had stolen your spot beside Jin, and holding him in your arms as he cries his heart out at the stroke of midnight. 

And just as quickly as the whirlwind of memories had taken you on a trek of time, your eyes flutter open to find yourself in another suffocating room of hundreds once again. 

Youngji [8:39 P.M.] Hey Y/N do you think you can visit me real quick? 

The glaring text on your phone screen glows in an otherwise dimly lit reception room. Thumb hovering over the screen, your mind goes blank. People pass by you, commotions and laughter fill every corner of the room, and you stand there frozen and affixed to the floor beside the table of food with a glass of red wine in your hands. 

“Hey, Y/N,” someone whispers into your ear and you immediately turn your phone off only to find Alex on her tiptoes, “what’s the matter?”

“Oh, um, nothing,” you respond under your breath, “it’s just that someone wants to talk to me.” 

“Well, you better hurry then,” she ushers you with a gripping hand on your left arm, “the ceremony is about to start anytime now.” 

“O-oh, okay,” you nod, allowing your footsteps to follow the momentum of her push. 

This isn’t exactly what you had planned, for the original plan involved your complete avoidance of the groom and bride, but it’s unsurprising that things never quite go your way. Nothing could quite topple you like last night’s revelation anyways. Taking a deep breath, you weave through the audience, wandering about the venue until you finally find yourself in front of a door with a “BRIDE WAITING ROOM” printed in gigantic black letters taped to it. 

Hesitantly, you knock, “hello? This is Y/N…? Youngji called for me—”

“—Y/N!” The wooden door swings wide open with a highly distressed Youngji hiding behind it. Before you can reply or even confirm the identity of the woman, her hands clutch yours and pull you into the room with a force unimaginable for a human of her size.  Practically lurching forward, a heap of air is knocked from your lungs just as the door slams closed. Coughs force their way through your throat, but Youngji wastes no time to rush to your side. “Y/N, this is an emergency! I need help!” 

“W—” you wheeze, peering up at her as you’re doubled over “—what in the world are you talking about?” 

“I don’t know,” her hands jitter as she paces back and forth, “I don’t know why I feel so… so nervous!”

“Hold on,” you frown, finally straightening your back, “that’s perfectly normal. It’s your wedding—”

“—please don’t say that word again,” she begins biting her freshly white-coated nails.

“What word? Normal? Wedding? Your—”

“—I can’t believe it’s my wedding…” she says repeatedly, hands flying to her head and disheveling her previously perfectly conditioned curls. She suddenly turns to face you, eyes wider than ever with a look that screams of an epiphany. “I-I don’t think I can go there. Y/N, I don’t think I can go out there!”

“What?!” you almost yell, flabbergasted. Recoiling from your outburst, you start much more softly this time. “Are you sure? I’m sure it’s just your nerves getting to you. You’ve been okay with it for at least a year, right?”

“Why?” her eyes widen to unprecedented diameters as she grabs your arm for support. “Is it because it’s too late? Do you think I should back out, Y/N?”

“What? No, no, no, calm down, follow me,” you shake your head, grasping her hand and guiding her to the chair in the center of the room where an entire photo shoot has been set up. Lowering yourself to a squat, you give her a squeeze as firm as the smile on your lips.  “Hey, you’ll be okay. It’s just the jitters. Everyone gets them. I’m sure Jin is freaking out in his room, too.”

“...okay,” she nods, pouting as her eyes lower to your hands that hold hers. Peering up at her from below, you can’t help but notice how beautiful she looks dolled up on this special occasion. From the extravagant poof of her princess gown to the gorgeous glow of the bride herself, you find yourself lost in a trance that burns with heart-panging jealousy. You almost miss her when she murmurs, “how are you so calm, Y/N?”

“Huh?” you raise a brow and laugh. “Why would I be nervous? I’m not the one getting married here.”  

“But… your best friend is getting married,” she shifts to get a clearer look of you but finds you with your eyes to the floor, “are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Of… of course. I’m happy for him,” you say through barely parted lips and stand to your feet before making your way to the door. “It’s not exactly traditional, but do you want me to get Jin? Maybe he can calm you down—”

“—do you know why Jin agreed to this arrangement?” 

Freezing in your tracks, you throw a glance over your shoulder to meet her distraught gaze. 

“Why are you asking me that now?”

“Because,” she blurts, clearly without thinking as words fail to follow through, “because I want your blessing! I want you to be okay with it!” 

“Blessing...?” 

“Yes,” she nods. “I can live with marrying a man I don’t love because I know I’ll come around, but I don’t think I can live knowing I’ve broken your relationship with Jin.”

Your weight shifts from your left to your right but the force of burden weighs immeasurably heavier on your very being. There’s nothing that would have prepared you for her request. Preparation, however, proves unnecessary, for your mind runs on its own and the words come to you as if rehearsal is all it's ever done. 

“I don’t think I’m in the position to grant you permission. That’s your decision and Jin’s,” you say, “and if my blessing is what you’re asking for, then I can give you it as many times as it takes to convince you. But if you’re asking for me to be okay with it, then I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to give you that.” 

Those are your last parting words as you slump on the wall behind you and a heavy sigh is shared between the two women on opposite sides of the door. Head low like a woman unjustly ashamed for speaking her truth, you take a deep breath with those heavy shoulders that carry the weight of a woman who had essentially cursed the joining of two hands. Nevertheless, somehow, you persist to make your way through the halls just as the ceremony begins; but as the audience settles and the light dims, something tells you the guilt that intoxicates your blood would have a longer-lasting aftermath than you had first expected. 

“Hey,” Alex leans into you, whispering, “is it just me or does Jin seem really jittery?”

“...no,” you answer, making sure to keep yourself hushed amidst a room of seated spectators. From the second bench to the front, fortunately on the opposite side of where Jin’s parents sit in the front row, you get a clear view of Jin and Youngji in between the black silhouettes of a couple heads; but anyone in the room can tell the bright studio lights and elevated platform don’t help his constantly shuffling case. “I don’t think it’s just you.”

“I see… so both the groom and bride are getting cold feet, huh?” 

“Well,” you utter, quipping, “in Jin’s case, he’d probably just say he forgot to sleep with socks on.” 

Alex turns to you with sheer confusion across her furrowed brows, “huh?” 

But before Alex could inquire further, the priest clears his throat and begins the opening ceremony. The officiality of it all, a long-dreaded image of Jin standing by another woman’s side manifesting into reality, has you subconsciously sent into a frenzy. 

“Dear Beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses, to join Kim Seokjin and Heo Youngji in matrimony commended to be honorable among all…”

The clearing of his throat strikes once and hard against your chest. Each word that reverberates in the room echoes the vibrating pain in the blood pumped from a gaping wound. Your chest heaves and heaves and your lungs struggle to maintain composure, and while your breakdown may have gone unseen by the rest of the universe, you know for sure only two would catch sight of your state.

You and him. 

“...if there is any person who can show cause why they should not be joined together…”

The priest continues and the tension in the audience rises by the second of a stress-inducing prompt, but the moment Jin catches your eyes and the panic painted across it, his every attention remains on you. Guilt should’ve painted your expression now, having stolen the groom’s admiration from the rightful bride by his side, but all you can do is relish in a fleeting moment you deem the least this cruel world owed you. 

Maybe he feels the same way, because something catches in your throat like the hunch that has chills running down the nape of your neck. You don’t dare move an inch. You fear any movement would give you away, though you’re sure he already knew the second he met you halfway.

His eyes, those dazzling eyes that could single-handedly freeze any moment in time, they ask you for a permission only he could grant. 

“...let them speak now or forever hold their peace.” 

No one speaks but the thick air that engulfs every witness in the room is telling enough. Holding a shared, bated breath, everyone awaits and prays for the quick passing of this deafening silence. Your heart is pounding so hard you worry your passing out would be the one interruption to the ceremony, if not anything else. It takes everything in you to remain hidden, glued to the chair. You can hear every single movement in this room, the squeaking of a nearly retired bench, the rustling of clothes amidst a fidgeting audience, the anxious tapping of someone’s heels against the wooden floor, yet no one dares to speak now. 

The priest sighs a soft breath of relief. 

Everyone but you follows along. 

The priest clears his throat and pro—

“—I would like to speak.”

A loud gasp travels across the room. Every witness, including the priest himself, stares at the young man, wide-eyed. The knot in your throat inhibits you from following suit, but the hammer against your chest works harder than ever; because there he is, your best friend, standing boldly before the audience with a puffed chest and a tightened fist that brace for the repercussions. 

It all happens so suddenly, so swiftly. The strings that were left raveled now unraveled, the paths that were abandoned now explored, and the love of a lifetime whomst once bid you farewell now holds on with a determination that tells you they aren’t quite ready to let go, by happenstance or by conviction, everything falls into place. 

You had reprimanded yourself relentlessly for envisioning a moment like this and you truly believed this would be the worst case scenario, so why is it that only now, as your peering eyes are enamored by the sparkles in his, you find yourself smiling proudly and thinking to yourself… that’s your man. 

“Father, mother,” Jin turns to face his parents in the front row, declaring loudly and firmly, “I don’t want to marry someone I don’t love.” 

“What,” Alex shrills under her breath as she clutches your hands, “what is going on, Y/N?!”

Her voice doesn’t reach you and neither do her cold, nudging hands. The ongoing commotion around the room are like white noise in your background. You can’t even spare a second of your attention to the picturesque vision before you, the man who fights not for you but for the two of you.

Jin bows, head hanging low to his parents and the audience, “I’m sorry for saying this too late.” 

Everybody watches as his mother attempts to hold her husband in place. All is in vein, however, when one look of the baffled expression on her husband’s face conveys enough to everyone of the mayhem that is soon to ensue. He rips her grip apart from his arm and storms to his feet, pointing a finger at his apologetic son.

“W—” he struggles to find his breath “—what are you saying? You said you were okay with this just last week!”

“I did,” Jin affirms with his head still hanging low, “I thought I was okay with it until this week.” 

“How—”

“—honey…” the mother murmurs.

“No, changing your mind is one thing, but changing it at the very last second is another,” his father shakes his head, yanking his hand and stumbling on his feet before his distraught son could lend a helping hand. “Did I teach you to inconvenience others like this? Do you know how much trouble you’re causing Youngji and her family?”

“I do,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

His father grunts, “don’t you see, Seokjin? ‘Sorry’ can’t fix everything—”

“—actually, Mr. Kim, it’s not just Jin,” Youngji bounces to Jin’s side then pivots to bow to her parents who sit in the row before you, “I, too, don’t want to marry anyone until I really know them.” 

Physically, the spotlight remains affixed to the stage. Mentally, it feels as though everyone’s attention is gradually creeping its way toward you. It takes everything in you and the grip of Alex’s hands not to run from the prying eyes. 

“What?” their parents gasp. “Didn’t you say you were okay with it if it were Jin?”

“I did!” she insists, suddenly retracting. “I did, until…”

“I’m sorry,” Jin lifts his head to turn to Youngji’s parents before bowing once again, “this is all my fault.”

“No, no, you wouldn’t do this... tell me, son,” his father takes a step toward the stage, beckoning for an explanation, “tell me who did this to you?” 

Jin lifts his head, brow furrowing and lips thinning as he chooses to remain silent to his father’s question. Suddenly, it’s everyone’s duty to catch the perpetrator. The audience begins craning their neck every which way to skim over the possible candidates. Your heart sends threatening waves of pain that foreshadow the inevitable chaos you’re about to be dragged into. 

You can barely move from staring at the floor in between the groom and bride but you can spot the gradual direction of his mother’s eyes making its way toward you… and when they finally spot you, a lightbulb flashing across her eyes the second you make the lethal mistake of meeting her gaze for the first time in many years, it’s as though her son’s rebellion is the only thing that makes sense in this universe. 

Only naturally, his father catches onto his partner’s maternal instincts along with the rest of the crowd as their diverged attention converges, one head turning after another, to stare you down—some with awe plastered across their jealous front, some with ghastly colors than drain their face of blood. 

“Is that… you, Y/N?” his father’s voice echoes in the room. “Seokjin, don’t tell me…”

“No, father!” Jin jumps in, holding up a defensive pair of hands as he attempts to quell the fiery in his father’s temper. Wide-eyed and panicked, he glances between you and his father. “It isn’t her fault. I swear. I”ll explain—”

“—don’t tell me you’re going through all this trouble for a childish crush from five years ago?” 

A loud shriek began the chaos the second Jin’s father exploded, lurching forward with a vexing fist. Everyone in the front rows jump to their feet to hold him back, whereas people in the back rows stand to their tiptoes to get a better view of the climactic show, which includes a once-to-be-groom insisting his father punishes him and a once-to-be-bride slapping her ex-partner in the head for his submission. 

People are hysterically laughing, crying, screaming, yelling, fighting, but you sit there, frozen and petrified, until a hand shakes your entire being to your feet. 

“Y/N, Y/N, God damn it Y/N, earth to Y/N!” Alex raises her hand, just about to give you one hard slap to the cheek when you suddenly flinch awake. She then hastily pushes you toward the door in the corner of the room whilst everyone is too distracted to notice your discreet escape. She looks you directly in the eye, “you need to run before things get too crazy. I’ll handle things here for now.” 

“But Alex, I’m at fault here—”

“—yes, I mean, maybe,” she corrects herself with the shake of her head, “but you being here doesn’t help matters. I’ll help Jin and Youngji.”

“But—”

“—now go,” she starts your momentum with an encouraging push, “go!”

Nodding, you begin your long trek of the night. You run and you run and you run. Your mind runs blank but your feet run a mind of its own. You sprint down the dimly lit streets, you pay no mind to the traffic lights of endlessly empty streets, and your hair twirls in the wind that impedes your speed down the hills. Your surroundings become a blur as your arms swing desperately, your chest heaves incessantly, your eyes sting with tears, and your lips spill anguished sounds of incoherency until somehow, under the sway of the town’s cold spring air and your flux of emotions, you find yourself in a familiar street of your greatest dreams. 

Depleted of gas, your feet stumble into a trot that has your knee nearly buckling, which then turns into a jog that then drifts into an untroubled walk in which your lungs try to catch up and your mind is scrambling at a hundred miles per hour but you, yourself, have gone elsewhere. 

The luminescence of the full moon is blinding but all the more soothing as you navigate your way through this street you’ve walked one too many times before. For some reason, perhaps out of habit or a hope for something waiting at the end of the tunnel, you begin to count each passing light post. Seven fluorescent lights, you count, seven lights resembling the rays of moonlight until you finally reach your old acquaintance of many years at the corner of the street. 

Leaning your head back to stare at the familiar white text on a green sign post, you smile at the homely sight. 

CHERRY BLOSSOM AVE

A comforting breeze blows by you, the branches above you rustle in the wind, and the cherry petals from your old pal flutter into the air to envelop you in a solace you had long sought but failed to obtain. It’s like the calm after a storm. Not quite disconnected from the string that loops around your fourth finger to those of another man’s—no, you couldn’t unravel it after all this heartache—but at least away from the prying eyes that could tear you apart and away from the people who whispered gossip of matters they had none in. 

Hours seem to pass in the clouds that retire to reveal patches of new twinkling ornaments. You would have believed it if someone were to tell you all control of time lies within the blink of your eyes. The silence was calming initially; but the longer you stand here and the more the numbness begins to fade, the more you become aware of your lonesome circumstances. 

The silence is deafening. It knows your greatest fears and your innermost thoughts. You can’t handle it. You can’t bear the thought of being left alone to that voice in your head. 

You have to go. 

Where? 

You don’t know. You just know you have to go somewhere. You can envision all the places you can run to but all the roads lead you to one destination. Yes, anywhere would be fine, anywhere that leads you to him. 

“This marks the second time you’ve ever been so enraptured by something other than me.” 

Whirling around, seconds seem to become milliseconds and gravity becomes a law unbeknownst to earth, for you can’t believe the sight your eyes lay upon. There he is, standing by the tree just a few meters away with a loosened necktie and disheveled hair, almost as if a pitiful albeit wondrous mirage crafted by your shoddy prayers to the moon above. 

“Hey dummy,” he simply utters, taking a step or two toward you before poking your forehead, “what? Why’re you staring at me like I’m a ghost?” 

“What?” you manage to say under your breath. “I’m not staring…”

“I was just joking, you know?” he chuckles. “I wouldn’t be jealous over a street post. Psh, I’m not that dumb—”

“—why…” you frown when he quirks a brow, “why are you here? How are you here?”

“Oh no, she’s gone crazy,” Jin laughs at the stupefied look you give him. “At least an hour or two has passed since you left. Somehow, I managed to sit my father down and explain myself.” 

“And… what did he say?” your hands begin fidgeting. “He must hate me, doesn’t he…”

“I wouldn’t say ‘hate,’ per se… he’s perfectly okay with you. In fact, he likes you, really. He’s just mad at how things happened. After he calmed down, though, he understood where I was coming from.” 

Cautiously, you peek at those eyes that peer down at yours, “and your mother…?”

“She said she saw it coming from a mile away. Apparently she saw us arguing at the engagement party and knew right away,” Jin purses his lips. “Psh, yeah, as if I’m that easy to read.” 

Allowing yourself the smallest of laughs, you still can’t seem to rid yourself of that panging guilt. “And… what about Youngji?” 

Jin stares intently at your expression before cracking a smile and chuckling, ruffling your hair, “don’t go crying on me now, Y/N. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything.” 

“But I just,” your voice cracks, “I just hate myself for ruining everything for everyone—”

“—hey,” he cups his fingers underneath your chin to lift your gaze to his, “you did not ruin anything for anyone. I did this. I chose to fight for us.” 

Hesitantly, you nod and he smiles in response. 

“Youngji’s still explaining to her family right now. She told me to find you and Alex told me you would probably here.” 

Frowning, you mutter to yourself, “how did she know…?” 

“Well,” Jin drops his hand from your chin to raise them in the air, “we did promise to swear our wedding vows here, didn’t we?” 

“So what?” you deadpan. “You’re gonna marry me now after all this mess?” 

“I know you really want to marry me as soon as possible, but I think I’m gonna have to take a break from weddings for now.” 

Rolling your eyes, you mumble, “ditto.”

“But hey, I may have already broken the third promise,” one corner of his lips curve into an apologetic smile before he shrugs, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t marry you in the future! Plus, I may or may not have promised my father I would marry you in the near future to make up for it, so...” 

Scoffing, you gawk, “and who said I would marry you?” 

“Who wouldn’t marry me?!” 

The two of you stare at each other in silence, but the mirrored grin that stretches across your lips are undeniable. Soon enough, a loud fit of giggles and cackles fill the air. It happens all too quickly. The banters come to you like second nature, the conversation flows like a river through time, and somehow you find yourself lying beside him on the blazer he had laid out on the grassy hill and star-gazing for hours on end. 

It’s almost like you’ve seen this all before, just five years aged. 

“So,” Jin speaks, “how’s your birthday been?” 

“Oh, shut the hell up.” 

“What?” he cackles, getting up to lean on his arm whilst hovering you. “You know it’s not too late to tell me what you want for your birthday!” 

“I already told you,” you narrow your eyes at him, “I wasn’t joking when I said what I said.” 

Jin smiles, “in that case…”

He leans in to diminish the distance between his lips and yours. A lulling zephyr blows gently on the cherry petals as you close your eyes and you can picture the way they gracefully descend upon the two lovers below. Having witnessed the unforeseeable promises from start to finish, it’s almost as though an old accomplice was applauding a long-awaited finale. 

And when he finally pulls away, eyelids fluttering open just as yours do, he speaks, “happy birthday.” 

“What was that for?” you giggle. 

Jin’s mouth falls agape, “I’m giving you what you wanted for your birthday!”

“Well,” you purse your lips, “where’s my ring to confirm it then?”

“After all this time, do you really need a ring at this point to confirm my love for you?” Jin rolls his eyes. “You know I’ll always want to be by your side, married or not.” 

A fit of laughs escape you as your hand reaches up to squeeze his cheeks, “I know, I know. I’m just joking.”

“Well, good, cause I’m bankrupt at the moment,” Jin sighs, plopping back onto the grass beside you. A momentary silence passes before he turns his head to look at you, “just to make sure, you said you wanted love, right?” 

Turning to meet those sparkles in his gaze, you answer, “yeah?”

“You said you wanted to feel love, right?” 

Your grin grows wider by the second, “yeah?” 

“Well,” he says, “do you feel it?” 

“I do,” you answer. “What about you? Do you feel it?”

The vows hold a truth much closer to his heart this time around, and he smiles as he swears...

“I do, too.” 

[theonewiththefanfics]

Tomato - Tomato (one-shot)

Synopsis: One is an international rock-star. The other is his loyal assistant. Both are complete morons in love. Also - she’s allergic to tomatoes, and it is important.

This started off as something completely else. hope you enjoy :D

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Assistant!Reader

Genre: fluff, minor angst

Warnings: two idiots pining for one another, swearing, mentions of allergies and EpiPens

Word count: 3492

Being an assistant to someone famous wasn’t all glamourous parties and wild nights out with celebrities. It was scheduling last minute flights and not sleeping for three days straight as you packed a million bags and then repacked because their stylist sent you knew pieces and the old ones no longer fit the aesthetic of the week.           It was also making sure that they were up by six AM with a hot coffee at their bedside ready to help them wake up as you lay out a detailed plan of the day down to the minute, while you yourself basically only had a two-hour nap because you had to finish off 568 handwritten notes to be sent out to each of the contacts in their phone. Or at least that’s what Y/N’s life was like being the personal assistant to none other than the modern-day prince of rock Harry Styles.            Said rockstar was actually still asleep when Y/N entered his room, ripping open the curtains and letting in the rising sun. He groaned, pulling up the bedsheets that’d ridden down his form during the night. “Not that I don’t like seeing your gorgeous face in the mornings….” he mumbled into the covers. “But I don’t like seeing your face in the mornings when they start at six bloody AM.”           Y/N snorted and rolled her eyes, rubbing them in an attempt to get rid of the sleep that still lingered in her own body. “You were the one that said you’re fine with seeing Lambert at eight for a fitting.”           “When did I say that?” Harry scoffed, only the top of his messy bedhead seen from the cocoon he’d built around himself.           “Would you like me to pull up the text messages, the calendar or the e-mails?”           Even with her back turned as she rummaged through his closet for him to put on some clothes, she could sense the middle finger he threw at her, and she smiled.           Despite everything, despite the zero sleep and stress always coursing through her veins, Y/N loved working for him. He treated her as a friend, not just some lackey he paid to, but most importantly, comparatively to the other people she’d worked for in the same line of business – he treated her as a human.           If something went over the deadline, Harry didn’t scream or yell at her and tell Y/N how incompetent she was, instead he asked what kind of help or assistance she needed to get the job done, or maybe if she just needed some time off to gather herself and look at the problem with fresh eyes.           “I hate how organised you are,” Harry groaned, finally throwing the covers off.           “If I wasn’t, you’d be in a ditch somewhere.”           She heard him scoff and two feet plop against the hardwood floor as he made his way towards her. “Is that how little faith you have in me?”           “You don’t even know what day it is!”           “Who does in these times?”           Y/N shrugged her shoulders and handed him a pair of boxers, some loose jeans, and a flowery Hawaiian shirt. “Are you telling me I’m wrong though?”           She looked over to her side, a smirk playing on her lips while he squinted his green eyes at her. “No, but it doesn’t mean I like getting called out, especially this early in the morning.”

          With a roll of her eyes and a shove at his shoulder for him to move to the bathroom, Y/N handed him the clothes, moving downstairs to start making him some light breakfast and get herself a cold glass of water.           You see, she’d been working as his assistant for close to two years, and they’d grown not only as people around one another, challenging their beliefs and world views, but as friends too. And, well, Y/N would be lying if the emotions hadn’t evolved from platonic to falling in love. Not that she’d ever admit it. He was an international sensation, and she was the girl who got him vegetarian croissants at the airport.           She dragged a hand down her face as she clicked the stove on and took out a carton of eggs from the fridge. Y/N knew how he liked his omelette to the T, mostly because when she’d spent the first night of quarantine with him a year prior right as the pandemic had started, Harry had wanted to do something nice because she couldn’t go and see her family any more, so he’d gotten up at seven to make breakfast for both of them. The only problem was, he hadn’t asked if she had any allergies, so as he added bits of tomatoes, parsley, cheese and scallions, Harry hadn’t expected Y/N’s eyes to go wide at the first bite as she dropped the fork.           “Harry…” Her tone had been cautious. “What’s in this?”           He was sweating. Was his cooking really that bad? He just wanted to do something nice and there he was screwing everything up. “ ‘S just some of my favourite things. I’m sorry I didn’t ask, I just thought you’d like it.”            “I do, but this tastes like it has tomatoes in it.”           He nodded. “Yeah. It does.”           Gently she smiled at him and pushed the plate a bit further away. “Could you grab me a coat, and if you have any – an EpiPen?”           “An Epi – oh shit!” When the realisation hit him, Harry was jumping out of his seat, running to one of the cupboards and rummaging through in a panic all the while apologies flew non-stop from his mouth.           Y/N in the meantime had gathered her purse and mask, making a call to the nearest hospital to explain the situation to which they responded they’d be waiting for her arrival.           “I’m so sorry!” Harry ran up to her, a first-aid kit in his shaking hands. “Please don’t die! I didn’t want to kill you, I promise! I just wanted to make you some breakfast cause you do so much for me, and now you’re stuck here, and – oh god,” he cried. “I’m going to be prosecuted for killing my assistant.”           She didn’t mean to, but the snort came out of her nose either way. “Harry.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Please calm down. I’m not going to die.”           “You’re allergic!”           “Yes, I am, but I only had a small bite. The ER is just a precaution.” Y/N took his palms in hers and squeezed them. “Now take a deep breath with me…” They did so, holding it for five seconds and letting it out for eight. “And calm down a bit. I’ll go give myself the shot, and then I’ll drive to the hospital.”           “Let me,” Harry begged. “Please, let me at least drive you to the emergency room. God, I almost killed you with an omelette, it’s the least I can do. I – I could also help you with the shot, I won’t hit an artery, I promise -”           “Harry, you’re barely coherent. Not to say anything, but you’d have a bigger chance of killing me in a car crash, than from that tomato.” Y/N gave him a smile. “I’m gonna be fine.”           With that, she left him to venture into the bathroom and did the unpleasant part of stabbing herself in the thigh to alleviate her body from the allergy symptoms. She sat there for around five minutes before she felt that the swelling of her tongue and itching in her throat was starting to subside, which meant the epinephrine was working.           “Okay,” she huffed, taking her purse from the couch where Harry had been sitting, hugging the accessory. “I’ll be back in probably around two hours. Do we need anything from the store?”           He shook his head. “Just come back home, please.”           Y/N would never admit how her heart thundered in her chest when Harry said to come back ‘home’. “I will.” She promised. “Don’t you worry. You’re not getting rid of me that easy, Styles. The money’s too good.” She winked at him and then left Harry pouting on the couch, but she couldn’t get through the door, before he jumped up, yelling, “wait! Do I need to get rid of every tomato in the house?”           “No,” she laughed. “I’m good to be around them. Even touch them. ‘S just my insides that don’t agree with it when they meet.”           “Okay.” He nodded, hands on his hips. “Alright. I’ll uh – I’ll be waiting. I’ll make you something else.”           “There’s no need for that, Harry.”           His eyes widened at her words. “I swear I’m not trying to murder you!”           “Oh my god,” she muttered shaking her head. “Just – just relax. Okay. I’ll send you hourly updates.”           He bit his lip. “Make it every ten minutes.”           “Harry –,”           “Please?” The way he was giving her puppy dog eyes melted her heart.           With an eye-roll, Y/N waved at him and promised to update her boss at every possible moment and confirm that he hadn’t, in fact, been the reason for her demise. Well, he was the reason for the demise of her low standards in men, having taken them and thrown them up to the Moon, but unless her feelings were miraculously requited or if one of the Marvel characters, she was obsessed with came to life, she’d have to stick to what was available. And in her mind, that wasn’t Harry.           “What are you thinking about?” His voice startled Y/N out of the memory, and she shook her head, adding salt and pepper to the beaten eggs.           She shrugged. “Just about that time a year ago where you secretly tried to off me because you were too nice to say you didn’t wanna quarantine together.”           The groan he let out was of royal embarrassment, and it put a wide smile on her face, as she took one of the forsaken fruits and started to chop the red ball into small pieces.           “You’ll never let me live it down, are you?”           Y/N raised her eyebrow at him. “Your failed murder attempt?” She snorted. “Of course not! It’s like you don’t watch the crime shows and murder documentaries when I have them on. You really haven’t learned anything.”           Harry stuck his tongue out at her and moved to her side, dropping some chives into the mix as well. “Well given how it wasn’t a murder attempt, I wouldn’t consider it a fail.”           Her hip bumped his, and only then did Y/N really give him a once-over. As always, he looked amazing in whatever was on his body, but what made him even cuter in her eyes was the sleepiness still lingering in him.           Harry’s movements were a little bit sluggish, eyes half-closed and small sighs passing his lips as he sipped onto the coffee she’d come to his place with. The shirt sat loosely on his body, the first two buttons left open while he’d tucked the bottom of it into the jeans, having found a Gucci belt and cinched it around his waist, giving it a more eighties look rather than the sixties vibe he usually had with his suits.           The brown hair was still messy and dishevelled, and Y/N could barely, just barely restrain herself from running her fingers through it, but what she didn’t know Harry was struggling just as much.           All he wanted to do was pull out the bottom lip Y/N had gotten in between her teeth and kiss her senseless, to have her fingers dig into his arms and leave crescent shaped imprints on his skin.           “So, uh…” He had to start a conversation otherwise his mouth would find itself on Y/N’s mouth in a second. “What’s Lambert got in his schedule? How many outfits is he thinking?”           “Two or three, I think,” she said, pouring the mixture on the pan and letting the slow sizzle erupt around them. “He’s got this one suit which I think you’ll really like – all leather, but it needs to be altered.”           Harry hummed, and for a second both of them relished in the domestic feel of it all. They’d had many moments like it before, especially during the spring and summer seasons of 2020, and Y/N couldn’t help but relish in her memories at them.           “Harry?” It was like her voice snapped him out from a trance. “Could you pass me a plate please?’           “Uh, yeah,” he stammered for a moment and then nodded, wordlessly going to a cupboard and taking out a white marbled plate. That single piece of kitchenware probably cost more than her life insurance, but it was definitely aesthetic if nothing else.           Silently Y/N plopped the omelette onto the plate, placing it on the kitchen counter and went to get him a fork, however when she turned around, he was facing her, chewing quite agressively on the inside of his cheek.           “You okay?” she asked, coming closer. “I can call Lambert, reschedule it for later. He wouldn’t be too happy about having to wake up and then – “           But Harry shook his head. “It’s not that.”           “Then what?”           He didn’t say anything. It was like he was trying to decipher the best course of action, and when he ultimately did, Y/N was pressed up against the counter, Harry’s forehead against hers with two ring-clad hands cupping her cheeks.           “Harry,” she breathed, out her lips brushing his making the air in her lungs hitch. “What are you doing?”           “Something I’ve been dying to do for a year now. If you let me that is.”           “I -,” The words were muddled up in her head. Of course, Y/N wanted him to kiss her, she wanted him to ravish every part of her body. The fantasies and dreams she’d had at night would be incriminating proof if her feelings were on trial, but despite it all, her brain was usually in charge and would overrule any decision made by her heart. “Harry, we can’t.” She whispered, voice breaking.           “I -,” Horror morphed onto his features as he took a step back. “Did I misread the signals? Did I do something you don’t wan –“           “No.” She grabbed onto his cheeks, trying to calm him down, his body practically melting into hers. “I do.” She didn’t need to explain what she meant. He understood. “So much it hurts me sometimes… but Harry, you’re my boss. My employer. It… it wouldn’t be right.”           “Why? How can it not be right, when it feels like the rightest thing in the world?”           “Because, Harry,” she huffed. “You’re my boss. And what’s worse – I love working for you!”           That made both of them laugh, the tone of her voice as if she was more annoyed than anything else. “ ‘Nd why’s that bad?” He nudged her nose with his. “I’d hope my employees like working with me. What kind of a person would I be if I thrived on them being miserable?”           “Because if I didn’t, quitting would be easy.” She raised her eyebrow at him. “And if I quit there’d be nothing stopping us from dating.”           Harry bit his lip, finger trailing along her cheekbone. “There’s nothing stopping us now either. There is no clause in your contract that says you can’t date people who you work for or with. Sarah’s with Mitch, and they’re the happiest they’ve ever been. They’re even having a baby…”           Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile. “I know. But that’s different. They’re on equal levels. You and I, however… I don’t want people to think I got my job because I slept with you, or some shit. It’s bad enough some already do so.”           His brows furrowed, and Y/N saw how his jaw clenched. “Who?”           “Strangers.” She shrugged. “I know you don’t look at comments like that online, but I see them. My DMs are filled with that. Gossip magazines. The point is – there are already unsubstantiated rumours about us. This would give them the confirmation they’d need.”           “How can it confirm something that’s not true?”           “There are still people who believe vaccines cause autism. Even when their ‘proof’ has been discredited and shown to be just complete bullshit, most don’t like to admit they’re wrong, so they’ll look for whatever tells them they’re right.”           Harry huffed throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. “So, where does that leave us? In love, but without being able to do anything about it? Because I can’t.” He shook his head. “I won’t be able to just pass you by without kissing you, or not pull you into the bed when you wake me up, or press you against the wall and not have my head between these two gorgeous legs.”           Y/N groaned slapping his chest and dropping her forehead against his peck. “That is so unfair. Why do you have to tease me like that!”           “Oh, sweetheart.” The rumble was deep and shot a wave of heat straight to her core. “This is no teasing.” The smirk on his face when she looked up at him was shit-eating. “Trust me, if I was teasing, you’d be begging for me.”           She’d imagined him between her thighs more times than it was appropriate considering he was her boss, but hot damn, did it feel amazing when his lips crashed onto hers, and she let him. In her dreams, his lips hadn’t been just pressed to her mouth but other places which were more south, but it was still one of the best feelings in the world.           The kiss left them both breathless, and grinning and satisfied, yet begging for more, teeth nipping at the soft flesh.           “I’ll put out an official statement, if you want,” Harry muttered against her mouth, unable to stop pecking her lips now that’d he’d gotten a taste. “But please, please, please… for both our sanities go out on a date with me.”           It seemed like Y/N was the one contemplating the best plan of action now when her brows furrowed and she looked up at him, pressing and unpressing her lips, as the swelling from the kiss grew. “Did you by any chance have a piece of that omelette already?” She had a suspicion it wasn’t just from the kiss.           His eyes widened, and then his head dropped to her shoulder. “Not again!”           Y/N rolled her eyes lifting his face by the chin so he would look at her. “How about EpiPen first?”           “Fair enough,” Harry grumbled unlatching himself from her and going for his keys and wallet, already preparing for the short drive they’d have to take. “But then a date?”           She raised her eyebrow, taking out the box Harry now kept under the sink with at least three EpiPen’s for emergencies. “In a hospital?”           “We could be going dumpster diving for all I care, and I’d count it as a date.”           Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to do so much better than that; you’ve almost put me in anaphylactic shock twice. Now come on.” She motioned with her head towards the bathroom. “Stab me and take me to the ER.”           “Fucking tomatoes,” Harry grumbled, taking her by the hand and not letting it go even for the short walk.           “Tomato-tomato, you’re the one that kissed me.”           “That I don’t regret.”           Y/N smiled, turning towards him, and taking him by the nape of his neck pulled Harry down for one more kiss, groaning at the feeling of his tongue dancing against hers.           “Y/N!” He pulled back with a gasp, shock on his face.           She just shrugged her shoulders. “We’re already going to see the doctors anyway.”           Harry pushed her shoulder and made her sit down onto the toilet. “Take your pants off before my kisses kill you.”           “Yes, daddy.” Y/N wiggled her eyebrows as Harry moaned, squeezing her calf.            His eyes were dark as he looked up at her. “Next time this happens, you’ll be begging me.”           Her wicked smile was so full of happiness he couldn’t help the one that grew on his face. “I’ll be keeping you to it. Now, dear sir.” She handed him the EpiPen. “Hit me with your best shot.”           And although it’d been now two times in their lives where Harry trying to do something good and make the other feel just as good had done pretty much the opposite, when they got to the emergency room, their smiles could be felt even under their masks           Harry watched with blushing cheeks as Y/N explained the situation to the nurse, especially when one of them threw him an unsavoury glance, eyebrow raised high as if saying ‘again? One time wasn’t enough?’.           “No more tomatoes.” He promised. “And also - it wasn’t on purpose!”           Y/N squeezed his palm, chuckling. She may not be able to give a shot at eating a tomato, but she sure as hell was going to give Harry one. After all, she had almost died for the man. Twice.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Harry Styles tags: @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​ @raylovessarcasm @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @harryhub​

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

A/N: I’m at work and I wanted to write a bit for my book, but hahahahahahaha I can’t stop procrastinating. Also, this was something comepletely else centered around Christmas, then New Year and the Valentines, but I just couldn’t and it morphed into this. Maybe this Holiday season when it rolls around I’ll post it :D

P.S. if anyone’s had a septoplasty (repositioning of the septum) - how was it? how painful is it? kinda starting my journey towards it cause apparently I can’t breathe out of my left nostril, but I’m kinda scared ngl. I’ve read some horror stories about having holes and pieces of the cartilage fall out afterwards :/// 

P.S.S. what did ya think? my tags are always open, just drop a message if you wanna be added :)

P.S.S.S please don’t plagiarise or repost my work on other platforms (wattpad, AO3 etc)

[pippytmi]

Howdy! For the little au trope prompt ask. 2, 2, 39. Supercorp please. Thank you! (Hope it helps your writer's block!)

Everyone knows that when the Quidditch season starts, rivalries begin.

As a general rule, Lena doesn’t mind the Gryffindors. If she had to pick a house she hated, the Slytherins would be the unfortunate lot; Veronica Sinclair and Andrea Rojas alone give the group a bad name. (That could be Lena’s own personal bias, given the fact that both girls have broken her heart, but she maintains it goes far deeper than that). But the point stands—Lena isn’t a hateful person. Generally.

There is just something about Kara Danvers that brings it out of her. The one and only Gryffindor that Lena despises is that moronic, reckless Chaser who scores nearly every single goal she takes. The Ravenclaw team is nothing to sneeze at either, but Lena hates that of all people to throw her off her game, it is a girl who blew up her broom when attempting to fly on it during her first year. Seven years that she has known Kara, and still Lena is annoyed at the mere sight of those perpetually-askew glasses, those untucked robes, that undone tie; Kara Danvers is never expected to be poised and perfect, even with all the expectations on her shoulders. She’s just so...blasé. People talk about Kara like she is destined to join a Quidditch team straight out of Hogwarts and all Kara does is stroll into the Great Hall on game day with her head in the clouds.

So far up the clouds that she apparently can’t watch where she is going, either. Lena throws Kara the nastiest glare she can muster when they just about knock each other’s heads together, but all Kara does at the sight of it is grin. She always grins, not in a way that is arrogant or snide, but stupidly amused. Stupidly amused, as if everything Lena says or does is a bloody laugh, like Lena’s simmering hatred is nothing more than an inside joke.

“Hey, Luthor,” Kara says cheerfully, and there she goes, pushing those crooked glasses up her nose. There is a scratch on one lens, and Kara has either not noticed or not bothered to repair it. “Trying to take out the competition a little early, even for you.”

“You were the one in my way, Danvers,” Lena replies tightly.

“Was I?” And here is the kicker, that golden girl charm that fools everyone: bright blue eyes peeking out beneath those eyelashes, hand rubbing at the back of her neck, undone tie slipping an inch further. Kara tilts her head unassumingly as if that is even an actual question.

It makes Lena furious. “Here’s a tip,” she says, “for here and the Quidditch field. Maybe if you got your head out of your ass, you could actually see where you’re headed.”

Kara has the audacity to look affronted. “Is this because of the Brainy incident during training? Because he and I agreed that it was a joint effort. Joint…blame. Whatever you call it.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “Just keep your aggression to yourself, Danvers,” she mutters, and then she resolutely brushes past. She has no time for blank, witty banter, especially when this is the year’s first game and she has a team to rally.

“My—? Hey,” Kara’s voice rings out, louder than necessary, and that idiot is actually following her. “Hey, wait. Lena. Do you seriously think I’m aggressive? It was an accident! Both times!” A beat. “I mean both the Brainy thing and right now. I didn’t knock into Brainy twice. I did knock James off his broom once, but you probably don’t care about that since he’s not from your house, so…well anyway, just so you know, that was also an accident.”

“I have zero interest in your training squabbles,” Lena says exasperatedly, “and you’d do well to keep that in mind.”

“Oh so this is about the Brainy incident,” Kara says. “How many times do I have to say that the training pitch was ours?”

“According to you,” Lena counters. With that she whirls around, nearly colliding into Kara’s chest, but she still manages to lift her head up high and stare down that egotistical jackass. “I know you might think you’re entitled to any space you waltz into, but some of us mere mortals actually schedule training sessions. You know, like we’re supposed to.”

“I did schedule the—!” Kara has a tendency to become flustered mid-argument, it seems, because her mouth opens but no words come blustering out. Finally she settles on scowling when she declares, “You are a piece of work, you know that? Would it kill you to apologize to me once in a while?”

“That would imply that you have apologized to me at some point,” Lena scoffs. “Which you haven’t, for the record.”

“Yes I have,” Kara is quick to disagree.

Lena crosses her arms; it’s a challenge, and Kara immediately stands a little straighter when she notices. “Oh?” Lena prompts. “Like when?”

“Like…when I knocked into Brainy.”

“I fail to see how I fit in that scenario,” Lena says, “since you didn’t break my nose.”

Kara gives a little huff, as if this back and forth is all so inconvenient right now; as if she hasn’t instigated it. “Okay, but I apologized for disrupting your practice, remember? I took complete responsibility even though it was your fault you couldn’t keep track of when your team was scheduled—”

“That was not an apology. You literally said ‘Sorry Luthor, we need this more than you do’ and then refused to leave for the next half hour!”

“But I said sorry in there, ergo, it is an apology.”

“Well then, when my team beats yours to dust I’ll be sure to apologize properly for that in that exact same sympathetic manner,” Lena sneers.

Somehow, trash talk only makes that dumb, signature Kara Danvers grin come back, completely wiping away any sign of vexation. “Oh yeah? Tell me more, wise old Ravenclaw—”

Before Lena can even begin to dissect that childish comeback (and stupid sing-songy imitation of the Sorting Hat), other students come filtering down the hall and they are practically swept up in the masses. One kid completely shoulders Lena before she even realizes what’s happening; she stumbles to the left, nearly collides with the wall, and opens her mouth to shout, but then:

“Hey!” Kara is already brandishing her wand with one hand and catching the boy’s collar with the other. “Ten points from Hufflepuff! You could’ve hurt someone, walking around without looking where you’re going.”

Lena bites her tongue to stop from making a quip on how ironic that statement is, because Kara is engrossed in a stare-off with the pimply sixth year who is demanding to see her prefect badge to prove Kara can even take points. She would normally side with the kid—anything to knock Kara Danvers down a peg—but, well. For once, Lena can’t be bothered to actively hate someone getting into a heated argument on her behalf.

Two minutes later and the boy stomps off with ten points gone from his house and a detention to boot. Kara, meanwhile, is still frowning as he leaves. “Are you okay?” she asks absentmindedly, still tracking the kid’s every movement with her eyes. “I swear, if there weren’t so many witnesses I would’ve hexed him.”

“Winning move for a prefect, I’m sure,” Lena says dryly, and Kara turns towards her with that slow-growing buffoonish smile and another sheepish nudge of her glasses. Her next words kind of just fall out, almost as if she’d never formed them in her mouth but in the deep recesses of her subconscious alone: “You know, you confuse me.”

“Huh?” Another nudge. The smile slips a fraction, but just enough to show Kara is slightly confused by the change in subject.

You confuse me, Lena wants to repeat. You are the opposite of self-aware. You are messy, and reckless, and selfless whenever it counts and it’s confusing because all I can really hate you for is being able to get away with being imperfect and still be adored by everyone.

But none of those words, thankfully, leave her head. All she says is, “Your approach to discipline confuses me. It’s not like he purposely tried to run into me—ten points might have been too harsh.”

“This coming from the girl who once threatened to curse me into oblivion for tripping her when we were twelve?” Kara’s eyebrows shoot up. “Who are you and what have you done to Lena Luthor? No, hold on, I know. You’re really Jess in disguise, right?”

“Hilarious, Danvers. I wouldn’t quit Quidditch, it might be the only place you’re suited for,” Lena mocks, but all Kara does is laugh.

“Nope, definitely Lena,” Kara says, and the way she says it is almost…fond. Come to think of it, Lena can’t remember a time where Kara actually called her Lena. It’s always Luthor and Danvers and stop breaking the faces of my best players and never—never anything else.

Lena clears her throat and looks away; she can’t take another second of those warm, bright eyes. “Whatever,” she says. “I…guess I’ll see you on the pitch.”

“Sure thing,” Kara says, and she takes a step back, tucking her wand into her pocket. “I’ll be the one rocking the winning team uniform.”

Slowly, Lena begins to feel the corner of her mouth twitch. Completely unbidden, completely unpredictable. “Dream on, Danvers.” She allows the space between them to grow, but their eyes remain locked, and the air feels heavy—thick—and the weight of their shared gaze holds a meaning Lena can’t possibly unpack right now.

But Kara’s tongue pokes out between her teeth cheerfully, and she doesn’t appear half as bothered by this development. “Always, if you’re in them,” she says, twists a little on her heel to walk away, but she pauses while she is still in earshot. “You know—next time you can just thank me for defending you.”

“You mean abusing your power as a prefect,” Lena replies automatically even as her head is running a mile a minute; even as Kara is getting farther and farther away and the scratch on her glasses lens catches the light.

“That too!” Kara shouts as she gets lost in the crowd, and damn her, Lena has to put her hand over her mouth to hide the absolute idiotic smile that has formed on her own face.

(Joint blame indeed, Lena muses, and she figures that she might as well form a rivalry with the Slytherins instead of the Gryffindors after all).

[thedeadhandofseldon]

The Anti-Mercer Effect

On the Accessibility of D&D, Why Unprepared Casters is so Fun, and Why Haley Whipjack is possibly the greatest DM of our generation.

(Apologies to my mutuals who aren’t in this fandom for the length of this, but as you all know I have never in my life shut up about anything so… we’ll call it even for the number of posts about Destiel I see every day.

To fellow UC fans - I haven’t listened to arc 4 yet, I started drafting this in early August, and I promise I will write a nice post about how great Gus the Bard is once I get the chance to listen to more of his DMing).

Structure - Or, “This is not the finale, there will be more podding cast”

So, first of all, let’s just talk about how Unprepared Casters works. Because it’s kind of unusual! Most of the other big-name D&D podcasts favor this long, grand arcs; UC has about 10 hours of podcast per each arc. And that’s a major strength in a lot of ways: it makes it really accessible to new listeners, because you can just start with the current arc and understand what’s going on!

And by starting new arcs every six or seven episodes, they can explore lots of ways to play D&D! Classic dungeon delve arc! Heist arc! Epic heroes save the world arc! Sportsball arc! They can touch on all sorts of things!

And while I’m talking about that: Dragons in Dungeons, the first arc, makes it incredibly accessible as a show - because it lets the unfamiliar listener get a sense of what D&D actually is. (It’s about telling stories and making your friends feel heroic and laugh and cry, for the record). If I had to pick a way to introduce someone to the game without actually playing it with them, that arc would definitely be it.

And I’d be remise not to note one very important thing: Haley Whipjack and Gus the Bard are just very funny, very charismatic people. Look. Episode 0s tend to be about 50%(?) those two just talking to each other about their own podcast. It shouldn’t work. And yet it DOES, its one of my favorite parts, because Haley and Gus are just cool.

And a side note that doesn’t fit anywhere else: I throw my soul at him! I throw a scone at him - that’s it, that’s the vibe. The whole podcast alternates between laughing with your friends and brooding alone in a dark tavern corner - but the laughs never forced and the dark corner is never too dark for too long.

Whipjack the Great - Or, the DM is Also a Player!

I think Haley Whipjack is one of the greatest Dungeon Masters alive. The plots and characters! The mechanical shenanigans! The descriptions!

Actually, let’s start there: with the descriptions. (Both Haley and Gus do this really fucking well). As we know, Episode 0 of each arc sees the DM reading a description - of a small town, or the Up North, or the recent history of a great party. And Haley always strikes this tricky balance - one I think a lot of us who DM struggle with - between giving too much description and  worldbuilding, and not telling us anything at all. She describes people and events in just enough detail to imagine them, but never so much they seem static and unreal - just clear enough to envision, but with enough vagueness left to let your imagination begin to run wild.

While I’m thinking about arc 3’s party, let’s talk about a really bold move she made in that arc: letting the players have ongoing control of their history. Loser Lars! She didn’t try to spell out every detail of this high-level party’s history, or restrict their past to only what she decided to allow - she gave them the broad outlines, and let them embellish it. And that made for a much more alive story than any attempt to create it by herself would have - but I think it takes a lot of courage to let your players have that agency. Most Dungeon Masters (myself included) tend to struggle with being control freaks.

And the plots! Yeah, arc one is built of classic tropes - but she actually uses them, she doesn’t get caught up in subverting everything or laughing at the cliches. And it’s fun! In arc 3, there really isn’t a straight line for the players to follow, either - which makes the game much more interesting and much trickier to run. And her NPCs are fantastic and I will talk about them in the next section.

Above all, though, I think what is really impressive is how Haley balances mechanics, and rules as written, with the narrative and rule of cool - and puts both rules and story in the service of playing a fun game. And the secret to that? She’s the DM, but the DM is a player, and the DM is clearly having fun. Hope Lovejoy mechanically shouldn’t get that spellslot back, but she does, and it’s fun. The changeling merchant in Thymore doesn’t really make some Grand Artistic Narrative better, but wow is it fun. And she never tries to force it one way or the other - the story might be more dramatic if Annie didn’t manage to banish the demon from the vault, but it’s a lot cooler and a lot more fun for the players if Annie gets to be a badass instead - and the rules and the dice say that Annie managed it.

Settings feel like places, NPCs feel like people, and the narrative plot feels like a real villainous plot.

Anyway. I could go on about the various ways in which Whipjack is awesome for quite a while - she’s right, first place in D&D is when your friends laugh and super first place is when they cry - but I’m going to stop here and just. Make another post about it some other time. For now, for the record I hold her opinions about the game in higher esteem than I do several official sourcebooks; that is all.

Characters - Or, Bombyx Mori Is Not an Asshole, And That Matters

Okay, I said I would talk about characters! And I will!

Just a general place to start: the party! All of the first three parties are interesting to me, because they all care about each other. Not even necessarily in a Found Family Trope sort of way, though often that too. But they generally aren’t assholes to each other. The players create characters that actually work together, that are interesting; even when there’s internal divisions like SK-73 v. Sir Mr. Person, they aren’t just unpleasant and antagonistic all the time. Listening to the podcast, we’re “with” these people for a couple hours - and it isn’t unpleasant. That matters a lot. (To take a counter-example: I love Critical Role, but the episode when Vox Machina pranked Scanlan after he died and was resurrected wasn’t fun to listen to, it was just uncomfortable and angering and vaguely cruel).

All of the PCs are amazing, and the players in each arc did a great job. If you disagree with me about that, well, you have the right to be incorrect and I am sorry for your loss. Annie Wintersummer, for one example: tragic and sad and I want to give her a hug, but also Fuck Yeah Wintersummer, and also her familiar Charles the Owl is the cutest and funniest and I love him. And we understand what’s going on with Annie, she isn’t some infinite pool of hidden depths because this arc is 7 episodes and we don’t have time for that, but she also has enough complexity to be interesting. Same with Fey Moss: yeah, a lot of her is a silly pun about fame that carries into how she behaves, but a lot of how she behaves is also down to some good classic half-elven angst about parenthood and wanting to be known and seen and important. (Side note: if your half-elf character doesn’t have angst, well, that’s impressive and also I don’t think I believe you).

There are multiple lesbian cat-people in a 4-person party and they both have requited romantic interests who aren’t each other. This is the future liberals want and I am glad for it.

Sir Mister Person, the human fighter! Thavius, the edge lord! Even when a character is “simple,” they’re interesting, because of how they’re played as people and not action-figures. And that matters a lot.

In the same way: the NPCs. There really aren’t a lot of them! And some of them come from Patreon submissions, so uh good work gang, you’re part of the awesomeness and I’m proud of you! The point being, the NPCs work because enough of them are interesting to matter. It’s not just a servant who opens Count Michael’s door, it’s a character with a name (Oleandra!) and a personality and history. They’re interesting. Penny Lovejoy didn’t need to be interesting, the merchant outside the Laughing Mausoleum didn’t need to be interesting, but they ARE! And Haley and Gus EXCEL at making the NPCs matter, not just to the story but to us as viewers. I agree with Sir Mister Person, actually, I would die for the princesses of the kingdom. I actually care about Gem Lovejoy of all people - that wouldn’t happen in an ordinary campaign! That’s the thing that makes Unprepared Casters spectacular - and, frankly, it’s especially impressive because D&D does not tend to be good at making a lot of interesting compared to a lot of other sorts of stories.

And, just as an exemplar of all this: Bombyx Mori. Immortal, reincarnating(?), and described as the incarnation of the player’s ADHD. I expected to hate Bombyx, because as the mom friend both in and out of my friend-group’s campaigns, the chaos-causer is always exhausting to me. And yeah, Bombyx causes problems on purpose! But! She is not an asshole.

And that’s important. Bombyx goes and sits with the queen and comforts her. Bombyx gives Annie emotional support. Bombyx isn’t just a vehicle to jerk around the DM and other players; Bombyx really is a character we can care about. To compare with another case - in the first couple episodes of The Adventure Zone, the PCs are just dicks. Funny, but dicks. Bombyx holds out an arm “covered in larva” to shake with a count, and robs him of magical items, but she also cares about her friends and other people! She uses a powerful magical gem to save her fertilizer guy from death! Yeah, Bombyx is ridiculous, but she’s not just an asshole the party has to keep around for plot reasons; you can see why her party would keep her around. And one layer of meta up, she’s the perfect example of how to make a chaotic character like that while still being fun for everyone you’re playing with, which is often not the case. And I love her.

The Anti-Mercer Effect - Or, “I think we proved it can be fun, you can have a good time with your friends. And it doesn’t have to be scary, you can just work with what you know”

The Mercer Effect basically constitutes this: Matthew Mercer, Dungeon Master of Critical Role, is incredible (as are all of his players). They’re all professional story-tellers in a way, remember, and so Critical Role treats D&D like a narrative art-form, and it’s inspiring. Seeing that on Critical Role sets impossible standards - and people go into their own home games imagining that their campaigns will be like Critical Role, and the burden of that expectation tends to fall disproportionately on the DM. And the end result, I think, of the Mercer Effect is that we get discouraged or intimidated, because our game isn’t “as good as” theirs. (And I should note - Matt certainly doesn’t want that to be our reaction).

So the Anti-Mercer Effect is two things: it’s D&D treated like a game, and it’s inspiring but not intimidating. And Unprepared Casters manages both of those really freaking well. Because they play it like a game! A UC arc looks just like a good campaign in anyone’s home game. They have the vibes of 20-somethings and college students playing D&D for fun because that’s who they are (as a 20-something college student who plays a lot of D&D, watching it felt like watching my friends play an especially good campaign). They’re trying to tell a good story, sure, and they always do. But first and foremost, they’re trying to have fun, and it shows, and I love the UC cast for it.

And that’s the other half of it: it’s inspiring! It’s approachable; you can see that Haley and Gus put plenty of work into preparing the game but it also doesn’t make you feel like you need hundreds of pages of worldbuilding to run a game. Sometimes a cleric makes Haley cry and she gives them back a spell-slot from their deity! That’s fantastic! It’s just inspiring - listening to this over the summer, when my last campaign had fallen apart under the strain of graduation, is why I decided to plan and run my new one!

That quote from Haley Whipjack that I used as the title for this section? That’s the whole core of this idea, and really, I think, the core of the podcast.

The Mercer Effect is when you go “that’s really cool, I could never do that.” But Unprepared Casters makes you look at D&D and go “wow, that looks really fun. I bet I can do that!” And I love the show for it.

And I bet a lot of you do too.

[spunkpunx]

Bittersweet Bundle Of Misery - Graham Coxon

Plot: Reader is dating Alex James, and finds herself miserable, but finds comfort in a tumultuous affair with his friend, and guitarist, Graham Coxon.

I will probably do a part 2.

Word count: 5153!

Warnings: Drugs, Alcoholism, Smut, Angst, Smoking

April 1996

Alex loved France. Not only that, but the French loved him, specifically the women. I didn't need to understand his words to recognise the flirty tone in his voice when he spoke to the waitresses, the bar staff, in fact, basically any attractive woman who fluttered her eyelashes at him. I wasn't sure how to feel about it. Of course, I knew Alex well, so I was never under the impression that he would be a devout, faithful partner, but I also never expected him to be so explicit in his relationships with other women. We both considered the relationship open, but Alex was the only one who seemed to take advantage of that situation.

I found solace in hanging around with Graham. The tour was stressful. We both struggled. We all drank, but for Graham it was a necessity. I spent more time with Graham than with Alex, but of course he didn’t care. The words “jealous” and “possessive” were not in his vocabulary, but then again, neither was “monogamous”.

I was tired and miserable. The venues where the band played could be stubborn about sound-checking themselves. This resulted in a lot of arguments, as I was strictly instructed that the band were only to have their own sound technician (me). Alex and Damon could be rude. Since I’d been dating Alex, nobody took my work seriously. I stopped being a technician with almost seven years experience on tour, and became “Alex’s girlfriend helping out”. The crew could be horribly sexist at times. Even Ivan dismissed me when I brought him a problem.

“Get one of the other technicians to look at it,” he said, after I told him that one of the venue’s sound guys had wired the bass into a guitar amp and not the subwoofer. He must have turned up the volume to compensate for the sound and blown the speaker.

“I know what I’m doing! I’ve worked with this band for years!” I ended up snapping. I heard one of the roadies mumble something about a period and it sent me over the edge. Sometimes I got so angry it was like I didn’t have control over my impulses anymore. I told them all to fuck off and stormed out the room, kicking the door with a tremendous thud as I left. After I’d cooled down and returned, the crew tiptoed around me like I’d overreacted. After the gig, Ivan came over to speak to me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to undermine you. You’re one of the best sound techs we’ve had,” he apologised, giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder. I appreciated the apology, it was the first one I’d had since the tour began.

Alex and I had an argument that night. We argued often, but this was explosive. He came into my room, coked up and horny, sitting next to me on the bed and pressing wet kisses to my neck.

“Are you over your little tantrum?” he asked, kneading my breast a little roughly. I pulled away.

“Little tantrum?” I repeated, surprised at his tactless words. “Everyone has been treating me like shit recently Alex.” He shrugged, running a hand up my thigh over my jeans, toying with my top button.

“Whatever it was. Ivan was trying to help and you just went mental,” he laughed, like it was all a big joke. He pressed his lips against mine and I pushed him away.

“It’s your fault I’ve been feeling like this!” I snapped. “If I didn’t start dating you then people would actually treat me like a professional! All of a sudden Damon is asking the drum tech to check the mic volume before they go on!”

“All of a sudden it’s my fault?” he asked, voice raising slightly. “Just cause you overreacted and bit Ivan’s head off?!”

“You don’t get it Alex! If you were ever actually here you’d understand how I was feeling, but you’re always off snorting lines and banging these fucking French girls!” I shouted at him.

“Well maybe I’d be here more if you actually put out instead of just going off at me!” he yelled back. I stood up, walking across the room with my hair clenched in my fists. I wanted as much distance between us as possible.

“Put out?” I looked at him incredulously. “So you’re only here if you can have sex with me? This relationship only exists so you can rely on me having sex with you whenever you fancy?!” We were both properly shouting now.

“That’s what relationships are! That’s what love is! The only difference between friends and relationships is sex!” he replied, seeing this as perfectly valid reasoning.

“So all I am is sex to you?” I asked, my voice now dangerously softer but still dripping with venom.

“No... That’s not- Stop twisting my fucking words!”

I calmly picked up my cigarette carton and lit one, letting his point ferment.

“Get out,” I spat. He glowered at me, standing up and leaving the room, slamming the hotel room door behind him.

As soon as he left the room, hot tears started spilling down my face, not tears of sadness but of rage. I felt overwhelmed. I smoked a cigarette, then another, the deep inhalation subduing my frustration. I heard a soft knock at the door.

“Piss off Alex!”

“It’s not Alex,” came Graham’s gentle reply. I stood and opened the door, wiping at my cheeks with the back of my hand.

“Gra,” I huffed in relief at his presence.

“I heard you were arguing, I wanted to see you were okay,” he said. It didn’t surprise me he’d heard it. Graham’s room was just across the hall, and we’d not been quiet. “Pub?” he offered, smiling slightly.

“Yeah alright, I’ll just grab my coat.”

We found a small bar not too far away from the hotel. Neither of us spoke particularly good French, but Graham knew enough to order some wine. The Parisians didn’t drink the same way the British did, and both of us were a little too embarrassed to try and order two pints of beer and a pack of cheese and onion crisps. Instead, we sat with a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and two glasses, hidden away in a back booth and laughing at our clumsy attempts at the French language.

“It’s so embarrassing walking round with Mr Culture speaking fluent French like it’s the most natural thing in the world, meanwhile I struggle asking the man in the shop for a packet of fags,” I complained, chuckling.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what were you arguing about before?” Graham queried.

“Oh, just...” I paused, unsure whether to tell him or whether he’d just agree with Alex. “Well you know how I lost my temper before?” Graham nodded, sucking his lips into his mouth like he always did when he was listening. “Well he made a joke about it, and it pissed me off. I dunno, I feel so tired and miserable recently, and the way everyone has been treating me like I’m totally incompetent at my job is so difficult. Alex is never there, he just swans around doing whatever he wants, meanwhile I just feel so overwhelmed,” I spilled, not even intending to share that much. Something about the build up of emotions in my life and Graham’s reassuring presence at the end of the table made me feel the sudden need to tell him everything. “I just don’t feel happy anymore.”

“I know how you feel, kind of,” Graham reassured, placing his hand over mine, while I took a large swig of wine. Looking back, I think that was the first moment I thought about kissing him. Of course I didn’t, we stayed out most of the night and then stumbled back to the hotel drunk. But I actually considered that maybe I wouldn’t feel so bad if I was dating Graham, not Alex.

October 1996

I never expected the knock at the door. It was a cold night in mid October, so when I opened the door wearing only a large t-shirt and odd socks, the biting breeze nipped at my bare legs. Graham stood there awkwardly, wrapped up in a fleece lined jacket and his eyes slightly glazed in his drunkness. I didn't ask any questions, just greeted him with a hug that lasted a few seconds longer than usual, then invited him in.

Graham wasn't a happy man, but I myself was hardly a ray of sunshine. I sat down next to him on my old settee, lighting a cigarette and refilling my wine glass. I offered him a glass but he shook his head.

"What's up Gra?" I asked him softly, reaching out to cover his hand with my own. He let out a dejected sigh.

"I can't do it anymore (y/n)," he explained. "The band. I'm starting to hate them all. The press, the tours, the people. It's way too fucking much. Damon won't change the music we do, he's being a controlling bastard, and then Alex, fuck." Graham pulled at his earlobe, something I noticed him do often when he was feeling nervous or stressed.

"What is it?"

"He's out living his playboy lifestyle, shagging around, doing lines, drinking champagne. Meanwhile, you just sit around pretending like everything is fine!"

I dropped my hand from his. I wasn't ready for this criticism, especially not from a man who was currently drunk every second of his life.

"It is fine, Gra."

"No it's not, because he barely gives you a backwards glance when he goes out and I have to watch it," he complained. He turned to me, looking over my face like he was drinking it in. "I think you're so beautiful."

"What?"

"So, so fucking beautiful," he repeated. Graham was bad at eye contact, but right now he was drunk, and looking at me with such a sinful look in his gaze. He glanced over my lips, and the small flip in my stomach as he did was my only sign. There had been moments over the past year where Graham and I had shared similar glances, but neither of us acted on impulse, until now.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against his. Immediately his hands slipped around my waist, pulling me flush against his body. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and as he deepened the kiss I pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. He assisted my movements, pulling it off to fall lazily on the floor.

His hand travelled down to my underwear, tucking a finger beneath the waistband of my knickers, pausing to see if I stopped him. I did, but only to pull his t-shirt over his head. I had seen Graham without a shirt before, but now I took in his lithe physique and broad shoulders. He slipped his hand to my clit, rubbing it in slow circles. I gasped at his touch and he leant down to brush his lips against my ear.

“You turn me on so much,” he whispered honestly, slipping two fingers inside me and curling them up. I moaned into his neck, pressing a kiss against it. Alex never really bothered with foreplay so this felt like heaven. After a minute he pulled his fingers out to push me down against the sofa, as I pulled him into another hungry kiss. He pushed his hips against mine and I let out another soft moan while he smiled into the kiss. Soon the desperation over took us and I fumbled with his belt, helping him remove the rest of his clothes before he pulled my t-shirt over my head, drinking in my body.

For a second he tucked his hands into my hair, holding my face behind my ears and stroking me cheeks with his thumb, before kissing me playfully on the nose. He pushed himself inside me with a slight groan, watching my face as I let out a satisfied sigh. I felt so appreciated, the way he looked at me was so tender. Unlike my day to day misery with Alex, this felt so raw, so right. He cupped one of my breasts with his hand, kneading it gently as he softly kissed and nipped at my neck. I felt sweat beading along my thighs, pressed into his body as we lay on the sofa, fully naked with the exception of our socks. He picked up the pace, and I could tell he was trying to control his urge to finish as quickly as possible. He rubbed my clit with the rough pad of his thumb, causing me to let out an unexpectedly loud moan as I clenched around him and my body shook. This brought him over the edge and he finished inside of me with a string of swears. He looked at me slightly panicked.

“Are you on birth control?” he asked, and I laughed, nodding, still out of breath and thrumming from my orgasm. He rested his forehead against my own and we lay there for a moment, panting, letting it register what had just occurred. I didn’t feel guilty at all, although I could tell Graham did. Alex had said so many things to me now that I couldn’t feel regret for sleeping with his friend, not when the moment was so sweet. Then he seemed to be pulled back into reality.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised, standing up and looking for his boxers. “I didn’t mean to do that, it wasn’t the plan.” I furrowed my eyebrows slightly.

“The plan? What was the plan?” I asked.

“I was going to tell you I love you, but you weren’t supposed to... You were going to tell me to piss off and then I could lay it to rest. I’m sorry. I’m drunk.” He pulled his boxers up and started looking for his jeans, but I reached out for his hand, pulling him round to look at me. I was still naked, knees drawn up to my chest on the sofa. I saw his eyes soften, his behaviour calm.

“Gra, I don’t want you to go,” I pleaded, my voice coming out a lot quieter than i intended. Alex and I had had another argument, and I was already feeling so lost until Graham showed up.

He paused, looking at out two hands together. I held my breath, waiting for his response. I needed him to make the irresponsible decision. Eventually, he nodded, and I nipped to the bathroom to clean myself up. When I came back in, clean and wearing a t-shirt and knickers, Graham had settled on the settee with the telly on, he’d also pulled his t-shirt on. I came to sit next to him, and he rested his head on my chest slightly while I began to run my fingers through his hair and he hummed contentedly. The show was boring, a late night crime drama. Within a few minutes Graham was snoring softly on my chest. I sipped my wine and smiled to myself.

November 1996

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Graham rolled over with a groan of pleasure, panting with sweat on his brow. I turned on my side to face him and he pulled a stupid face, still lying on his back. I let out a sigh and turned over, away from him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, concerned, moving closer and pressing a kiss onto my shoulder. One of his large hands rested on my waist and I suppressed the urge to sniffle.

“We don’t love each other though do we?” I said rhetorically.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, if we loved each other, then I’d leave Alex and you’d stop drinking so much.” I felt so bad saying it, but it was true. Even as Graham arrived in a better mood today, there was still an alcoholic taste on his tongue. We’d been seeing each other for over a month, and I knew I wasn’t breaking up with Alex any time soon.

“Maybe you’re right, but still, it feels nice to say, doesn’t it?” he pointed out, nuzzling his head into my neck as he ran his hand round to lay against my stomach, pulling my back closer to his chest.

Sometimes it felt like Alex must have known about me and Graham’s relationship, because he suddenly changed last month. Of course, we still argued. He still enjoyed champagne and cocaine and plenty of women, but god he was good at apologising. After arguments he’d always pull off the perfect apology. He’d me out to an expensive restaurant and completely overlook every gorgeous woman there. He’d make a point of telling the waitress that he must be the stupidest man on earth to have an argument with his ‘beautiful girlfriend’ and would try and show me off to every person in the room. Sometimes his apologies were less flashy, sometimes they came in the form of a home cooked croque monsieur in the morning, and kisses all over my face. Alex had the ability to make me feel both completely worthless and wonderfully special, but when he made me feel so special the guilt always tainted my mood.

In fact, it was at this moment a knock came at the door. I sat up in slight panic. Graham looked at me in confusion.

“It must be Alex,” I told him in a hushed voice.

“Shit.”

The knock came again. I pulled on a shirt from the cupboard, padding through my flat to the living room.

“Hey, (y/n). I know your home,” he said through the door.

“Can you come back later, Al?” I asked, doing up a couple of the buttons. “There’s someone here at the minute.”

“No, just open the door,” he persisted. I sighed, walking over and unlocking it. I stood there in a just the oversized shirt and some underwear I’d pulled on. My bedroom door was shut, Alex wouldn’t mind as long as he didn’t know who was in there.

“I’m in the middle of something,” I said slightly exasperated.

“Fucking hell, you look good,” he grinned, looking me up and down before pushing his way past to get into my flat.

“Hey, don’t come in!” I protested.

“It’s fine, love. I left my keys somewhere here, I just came to grab them,” Alex replied, going into the kitchen and picking them up off the side. He walked into the living, cheeky smile on his face. “Hey, can I say hello to whoever is in there?” he teased, stepping towards my bedroom door. I rushed forward, pushing him away while he teasingly stood his ground.

“No you cannot, it’s weird. If I come into yours while someone’s there you look like a philanderer, but when you come here guys think you’re my pimp or something,” I argued, managing to get him across the room toward the front door.

“Okay, fine,” Alex agreed, dropping his hands to around my waist. “Kiss goodbye?” he requested in a silly voice, tilting his head to the side. I rolled my eyes, but agreed. He pressed his lips to mine for a moment, dropping his hand to squeeze my arse jokingly, and I pulled away to give him a lighthearted smack on the arm and hurrying him out the flat.

When I walked back into my room, Graham was still nestled beneath the duvet, his head poking over the top.

January 1997

"You have to be joking, right?" came the surprised voice of Blur's bassist. Alex was stood in the doorway of a backroom at Groucho's. His pupils were like goddamn dinner plates, as per usual, but for once he was acting surprisingly sober for someone so off their tits. We'd been caught, and as Alex cast a disbelieving look between myself and his bandmate my heart dropped down into the bottom of my stomach.

I had been dating Alex James for just about two years, and had known him for four, and although our relationship wasn't defined as such, it was a rather open one. This, however, seemed to be a breach of our agreement. This wasn't a random person, or even a distant friend, this was Graham.

When Alex had walked in, he'd come across a scene that was a little bit more than over friendly. The guitarist had his hand underneath my skirt and was kissing my neck while we laughed drunkly. Of course, then came the interruption, and we had jumped apart at the arrival of my boyfriend. I sat awkwardly, chewing my lip, feeling like a naughty school kid. Nobody spoke. It was difficult to know what to say. There was no chance of convincing him it was less than he thought, I'm sure our guilty faces spoke volumes. After a pause that went on for way too long, I tried to speak up.

"Al-" I began to reason but my voice was cut of.

"No," he interjected. "I can't fucking believe it. You're my mate, Gra. You're in the band. Of course, the quiet, sweet one. Works for you doesn't it? 'Cause this whole time you've been fucking my girlfriend," Alex snapped. I saw Graham look down, his jaw clenched slightly. I wanted to reach for his hand but I knew it wasn't the time.

"Alex,” I warned but he scoffed at me.

"Piss off with that, (Y/N)," he scolded with an incredulous laugh. "Get your stuff from my place tomorrow, but don't come too early 'cause I'm bringing home that blonde girl from the bar tonight," he told me harshly, leaving the room, probably to go practice his lines in the bathroom.

I sat back down next to Graham, my frown mirroring his. I tipped my head onto his shoulder, and he pulled me into him with a comforting arm. It was difficult to pin down my feelings, although guilt was the presiding one. I felt especially guilty for not finding the ability to care that Alex had just split up with me. I felt tears prick my eyes, unable to stop myself from crying. Graham tilted his head to me, brushing the tears from underneath my eyes with his thumb, and pressing a kiss onto my forehead. I tried to pull him in for a kiss, to distract myself from my current feelings, but he turned his head away.

“Now’s not the time,” he told me gently.

February 1997

I didn’t expect to still accompany the boys on the American tour, in fact, I was aware Alex had greatly argued against it, but Ivan had insisted. I was under contract to the record label and familiar with the set up and how the band liked things. I rather have stayed in London to be honest.

Before we left, Blur released their self titled album, kicking it off with a 'secret' gig at the Astoria to a sold out crowd of two thousand people. The mood was so elevated, all tensions seemed to be erased. A huge after party went down. It was packed with Britpop royalty and went completely out of hand. That night I even stupidly assumed that things would go back to normal, water under the bridge.

I only listened to the album two days later. It was totally different to anything they'd done before. I recognised the influence of the underground bands Graham listened to, although the tone seemed slightly ironic. The album seemed fast paced, but then, halfway through the album came an unexpected softer number, Graham's soft voice coming into my living room through a layer of crackly voice effects. The first verse was despairing. I knew Graham was struggling with his alcohol, but I'd been doing so awfully myself that I didn't even realise how bad it had gotten. It was the chorus that really ruined me though; heartwrenchingly honest and bitterly optimistic. I didn't care if he'd written it about me or not, but that last line hit me somewhere deep in my heart and put tears in my eyes. By the time the song had ended I was a sniffling mess on my living room floor and brimming with such a strong sense of love.

We left to France two days later. The crew were acting strange with me. Everyone knew that I’d now slept with two members of the band, and there was lots of implication I was going to try a third. Damon was acting well off with me and usually I found myself sat with Graham receiving glares from both Damon and Alex. We had to go through Paris and then Tokyo before we arrived in the US at the beginning of March. Things were okay when we all got drunk enough, the boys tended to forget about my crimes against the band. We did sing alongs at our hotels. Alex got a bit arsey when Graham fell asleep with his head in my lap in Tokyo, but he’d happily bring girls to drink with us and happily snog them while I was sat there. I didn’t mind, the part of me that cared was so easy to shut off now.

I loved Japan, and the Japanese loved Blur. Damon was particularly popular with his blond hair, blue eyes and pretty face. The reception at the airport was always brilliant. There would always be a crowd of teenage girls desperate for a signature off their favourite band member, I think one of the Gallaghers already said it, but it was like a second wave Beatlemania. I usually sat back with Ivan, watching the boys deal with their fans, especially Graham. While Alex and Damon used a charming smile, Gra always seemed so unsure what he was doing was right. It was very endearing. I wanted to stay as far away from fame as possible.

Me and Alex’s breakup was extremely high profile. Of course, why we split up was a public mystery, only adding to interest levels. We kept our relationship fairly private, although I had experienced the odd incident with paparazzi, but the Blur management team saw great opportunity for promotion with our split. I was hounded by music journalists for weeks, and photos of me suddenly started appearing all over the gossip magazines. As much as I didn’t want to be stuck on tour with Alex, I had to say it was a relief to leave it behind.

Graham still came to my hotel room late at night, but for both of our sakes he left way before the sun rose. That part was the hardest, when he climbed out of bed to get dressed and leave. I’d watch him put on his clothes, peeking my head over the bedsheets and not speaking. He’d press a kiss to my forehead and tiptoe out the room, back to his own. Then I was alone. I think that fear of being alone was what kept me from ending things with Alex, because staring up at the ceiling after Graham left was the most saddening feeling in the world. I couldn’t say I love you to him anymore, even if I did. When I was still with Alex, it was just a phrase, but then it had become an empty promise. I was far too scared to bear my soul to him like that. I think it upset him slightly, when I wouldn’t say it back, but he never mentioned it.

It was moments like that, lying alone in bed and feeling totally isolated, with nothing but the rushing thoughts in my head, that I would have given anything for Alex to burst into my room and pick a fight with me again. Sometimes I wanted him to loose his temper, to see me across the room and to shout at me, to call me names. His willing acceptance of the situation hurt me most. His ability to move on like it was nothing.

March 1997

Things went downhill once we arrived in America. Everyone was jet lagged from the flight and we were mainly travelling around on a tour bus. Being in such close confines did have a habit of getting on everyone’s nerves. I was sharing a tour bus with some other sound technicians, which was a nightmare. I was the only woman on tour, and every morning I got up an hour before everyone else so I could get dressed without being stared at by a group of blokes. Unfortunately, I was also going to bed in the early hours of the morning anyway, so I was feeling twice as exhausted as usual.

Suddenly, Alex seemed a whole lot more pissed at me than before. Any time Graham and I were even in the same room, he would glare until one of us left. He couldn't help but leave snide comments.

The other issue with being on tour was privacy. I barely got a second alone with Graham. Damon had walked in on one of our few opportunities, while Graham had his head between my legs, and aside from it being very embarrassing, since the incident Damon had been twice as off with me as ever before. Eventually, Graham and I settled for cuddles and conversation, this seemed to cause the least tension.

One night in Detroit, we all went out to a bar. I found in America all anyone ever wanted to know was 'what you did'. Of course, this was in reference to career, but I'd recently found entertainment in replying "nothing much". I spoke to lots of American's, receiving regular compliments on my accent. We drank lots, Alex ended up taking a very attractive blonde girl to the tour bus, leaving the rest of us to continue our evening by drinking enough to knock out an elephant. At one point I wobbled outside for a cigarette and some fresh air.

I stood by the back door and the bins, inhaling the smoke and letting the cold sober me slightly. Then, a very drunk Damon stumbled out the pub, proceeding to bend over by the wall and vomit onto the floor and his trainers. I rushed over, putting a hand on his back and trying to shuffle his feet away to avoid where he was being sick. He finished throwing up and swatted me away.

"Piss off (y/n)," he slurred. "It's your fault it's like this." I stepped back, surprised at his words.

"What?"

"You cocked everything up!" he whined, leaning against the wall for support. "You broke Alex's heart, and now he's mad at Gra, and now Gra's in love with you and you're going to hurt him. Fucking hell, (y/n), look at him! Can't you see what it'd do to him!"

I couldn't help it. For what seemed like the millionth time in the past month, tears prickled my eyes. I never usually cried, but now all my emotions lay very close to the surface.

"I don't want to hurt Graham, Dames. I never wanted to ruin anything," I sniffled, taking a drag from my cigarette to try to calm my wavering voice. "I love Gra, I really do, it's just... complicated."

Damon's eyes softened slightly, and then he fell over into his own sick.