#''community i'm surrounded by'' is so fucking Telling.

[insertsickusername13]

all the adults in Jake's life telling him 'your parents are good people, it'll all work itself out, they'll come back, there was probably just a mistake, everything will be fine' and Jake having to sit there wondering why good people were so willing to leave him behind

[taeyongdoyoung]

wolf and bunny

summary: you ask your best friend to fuck you in your sleep but your bottled up feelings come out to the surface... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to lovers warnings: cnc/somnophilia, discussion of boundaries, eating out, touching, groping, unprotected sex, spanking, stranger+wolf/bunny roleplay, little red riding hood references, face-slapping (once), size kink, cockwarming, multiple rounds, feelings (ew), pet names, discussion of future scenario 👀 (i know i said this is the end but...we'll see) author's note: hii everyone, this is the third and final part of my wolf and bunny series, thank you so much for going on this nasty journey with me 🤍 part one & part two word count: 2k

You and Chan are having a bit of a disagreement in connection with the circumstances surrounding your next game.

“But I want to know exactly which night you’ll do it.”

“If you know, you won’t be able to fall asleep,” Chan reasons with you. “Kinda like Santa Claus. Kids stay up all night waiting for him and then he never comes.”

“Please, even if the kids were asleep, he’d still never come ‘cause the parents are putting the presents under the tree!”

“It was just a metaphor.”

“A bad one. You’re gonna have to work harder to convince me.”

“Hey, wasn’t this your idea in the first place?” Chan reminds you teasingly. “You’re the one who wants me to fuck her in her sleep.”

“Ey, don’t pretend you won’t be into it,” you shake your head.

You are both so stubborn you don’t see this ending unless one of you retreats. Then, after a brief consideration, you speak again.

“Fine. You can keep the secret of the exact night you’ll do this. On one condition.”

“Sure, bunny, let’s hear it,” Chan listens eagerly.

“If I wake up, you won’t stop. I’ll just pretend I’m still sleepy and we keep going.”

“Is that even possible? I mean, for you to not wake up?”

“It is if you drug me or something,” you shrug.

“Ugh, don’t give me such evil ideas. You never know when I might take advantage of you.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it, wolfie.”

“But are you sure the sleep thing is a great idea? I mean, you wouldn't be able to say a safeword...” Chan can't help but worry, always putting your needs first and planning every scenario in great detail to make sure you're alright. Damnit, could he get any more perfect? He's so sweet and considerate you wish you could just tell him how you feel. But what if that scares him away? What if you lose not only your wicked game buddy but your best friend in the entire world? You wouldn't be able to live with yourself.

“Yes, I'm positive, Chris,” you place your hand on top of his. “I trust you 100% and know that you'll look after me. The question is, do you trust my judgement?”

“I mean, I do trust you. It's just that last time you didn't communicate your discomfort clearly and I wouldn't want to risk messing up to the point of accidentally hurting you,” Chan verbalizes his anxieties.

“I get what you're saying but it's not like I'm open to doing this with a stranger. It's you we're talking about. You've always been great at taking care of people so I know you wouldn't go too far. But at the same time, I wouldn't mind if you went loose. If anyone can take it and accept you fully, it would be me.”

“Yeah, I know. You're right. But just in case, I want you to know beforehand that I care about you and respect you like a lot. So, even if I get carried away, I still want you to feel safe.”

“Aww, Chris, ya old softie! I always feel safe with you, it goes without saying!” you insist.

“Well, I like hearing you say it.”

You gulp nervously. His voice is so commanding and yet so reassuring that your words have never rung truer. He's more to you than a safety net and you hope he knows it. He's incredibly thoughtful and infinitely kinder than the first impression. He's a riddle in the way he keeps surprising you and yet you wanna keep learning more about him. He's hundreds of the loveliest words in the dictionary multiplied. He's more comforting than your favourite blanket. He's warmth personified and you would be an idiot to let him go.

“I'll try to say it more often, then,” you promise. “When I'm with you, I know no harm will come my way. But here's the thing...you're the only one I'd willingly let hurt me.”

“I don't want to hurt you, though.”

“You don't?” you pout, suddenly feeling guilty. Then, what have you been doing? Was he forcing himself to act out these fantasies for your sake alone? You genuinely thought he was enjoying them as much as you were.

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” Chan is quick to explain. “I like our games. I meant that I don't want to hurt you emotionally. Ever.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense,” you chuckle, feeling a little stupid. “Well, you don't need to worry about that. Glad we had this talk.”

“Me too,” Chan gazes at you fondly.

“So, which night are you fucking me while I'm asleep?” you attempt to find out while he has this dazed look in his eye.

“Next- Hey, nice try! I'm not telling you, you impatient devil.”

“Aw, man, I was so close,” you bemoan the uncertainty of your future.

“You wish.”

The long-awaited night finally arrives. Chan has a key to your place so entering it is too easy. He makes sure he picks a night when you’ve complained about being exhausted and sleepy all day long. And he is certain that you’re passed out in your room, not suspecting a thing. Well, a part of you is always anticipating what could happen, but still.

He’s beyond glad to find you sound asleep. You’re wearing nothing but a t-shirt and some flimsy panties. Chan admires your sleeping form for a couple of brief moments before he gets down to business.

He wonders where to start. Should he tear them up? Or maybe push them to the side? Should he grope your boobs through your shirt? Or perhaps slide his hands beneath it, stroking your nipples directly? So many opportunities. He wants to do everything, he decides.

Chan starts by moving your panties to the side and licking your tiny pussy. He touches you with his fingers, gently prodding your entrance but not exactly sticking them inside yet. Then, he sneaks his hand underneath your shirt, teasing your nipples. Fuck, you’re so soft.

He marvels at the knowledge that you’d trust him with something like that. Though the previous scenarios were hot and intense as fuck, this one hits different for him. Maybe because last time you were awake, you were still in control because you could say the safeword whenever. Maybe because you want him at your most vulnerable even in your sleep. Or maybe because he’s slowly falling for you, but he doesn’t know how to say it.

It’s okay. Chan’ll show you, instead. He pinches your nipples lightly and continues to make out with your pussy. You are so wet already it’s adorable. He wonders if you’re dreaming of him, as you shift slightly in your sleep. He wants to drag this out. But how?

He uses his nails to trace circles on your skin, which causes goosebumps to appear. Are you cold? He wants to keep you warm and full at all times. Chan can’t take it any longer and takes his cock out, sliding in so perfectly. As if you were made for him. Made to take his cock and let him do crazy things to you. His sweet little bunny…

You moan desperately and the spell is broken. You’re awake. He wanders if you’ll speak or he’ll have to make you. Both options sound quite appealing. But he wants to hear your voice more than anything.

“Shhh, go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Chan whispers gently.

“W-who are you?” you cry out.

Aw, you’re gonna pretend not to know him? That hurts. But it can be fun, he thinks.

“Just the big bad wolf,” he chuckles at the irony of it.

“Please, don't do this,” you fake not wanting it, even though you've never wanted anything so badly in your life.

“Oh, bunny, but I already am,” Chan replies, spanking your ass a couple of times in the meantime.

“G-gonna split me in h-half,” you mumble, voice muffled against your pillow.

“Yeah? G'na ruin my sweet girl?” he speaks to you so softly you want to melt right there and then.

“Feel so full 'n so s'eepy,” you slur helplessly.

“Aw, tiny, go back to sleep, then,” Chan pats your head soothingly.

“Can't. What a deep voice you have!” you play along too well.

“All the better to degrade you with, my slutty bun,” Chan laughs, while still continuing to fuck you.

“What big hands you have!” you keep saying.

“All the better to grab your tits with,” Chan chuckles and makes good on his promise by playing with your boobs.

“And slap me with!” you remind him playfully.

“As you wish, princess,” Chan growls and slaps you across the face harshly but not harsh enough to actually leave a mark.

“What big eyes you have,” you sigh wistfully.

“All the better to stare at you fall apart,” Chan responds cleverly.

“And what big cock you have!” you scream, barely resisting the urge to laugh. Are you a silly little bunny or Little Red Riding Hood? At this point, you don't care, but it feels too good regardless.

“All the better to fuck you with,” he grunts loudly, spilling inside of you.

You follow rightaway and urge him to stay like this for a while. Maybe round two is in order?

“You know what else is big?” Chan teases you.

“Oh, shut up, Bigfoot!” you reply and are no longer able to hold it in, breaking into laughter. Chan also finds the interaction hilarious and buries his head in the nook of your shoulder. You stroke his hair without realizing. Shit, he's so adorable you almost say the three words. Is it too risky? Too soon? You need a distraction. You need... “Fuck me again.”

“Already? Aren't you tired?” Chan wants to make sure.

“Fuck me till I fall asleep again,” you ask him.

“Um, okay, sure,” Chan looks a bit confused but does as you ask.

This time there is less talking and more fucking but no matter how many rounds you go, sleep doesn't come again. You both orgasm more times than you could count, but somehow, it isn't nearly enough to distract you from the inevitable. You love him. Your heart knows it, your pussy knows it, even your brain knows it but is stubborny telling you not to confess for fear of somehow ruining things.

Once Chan decides he's completely spent for the night, he pulls out of you and rips off the bandaid.

“Are you alright? Something suddenly shifted but I can't quite place it,” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and nudges you softly with his shoulder.

“Do you want the truth that might mess up everything or do you want me to lie to you and say I'm fine?” you ask, even though you're already on the verge to tell the truth.

“With you? Always the truth, please,” Chan clearly states his preference.

You sigh deeply and tilt to the side so you're facing him properly.

“I think...no, I know I love you.”

“I love you, too, babybun,” Chan responds fondly and kisses you on the nose.

“In a non-friendly way. And I don't mean just sexually, either. I mean, the friendly way and the sexual way haven't diminished, of course. But I also love you in a...I want to be yours, your girlfriend, your lover, your romantic partner, your everything.”

Chan is taken aback by your words. You...feel the same?

“You already are,” he confesses genuinely.

“Huh?” you blink in shock.

“I mean...you are already my everything. But, if you'd like me to officially ask you, then...will you be my girlfriend, angel?”

“You...you'll have me?” you are still in disbelief.

“I thought I already had ya,” Chan pinches your cheeks lightly.

“Damn right you do, Mr. Wolf,” you giggle and pull him into a kiss.

He smells like autumn, his embrace exudes warmth and his lips taste like home.

“You have no idea how badly I've wanted to tell you about my feelings,” Chan confesses. “When I found that story of yours in your drafts, I just couldn't resist the opportunity. I hoped that if I turned your fantasies into reality that you'd eventually fall for me.”

“Oh, Channie...I've been falling for you for longer than you realize,” you admit shyly. “How could I not? You're everything I've ever wanted.”

So, this is what it feels like to have the world in your hands. Huh. You could get used to it.

Bonus:

“No, I'm not kidnapping you!” Chan is adamant as you two sit in a nice restaurant.

“But Chriiiis,” you whine. “You said you'd do anything for my birthday.”

“Anything but that!” Chan shakes his head in amusement.

“Why not? It can be fun!”

“Fun? What if something goes wrong, what if someone sees us and thinks I'm actually kidnapping you, what if...hear me out, here, I go to prison for it?”

“Well, duh, then I'd bail you out!”

“As if you could afford it,” Chan rolls his eyes.

“Hey! But seriously, I'll just tell the cops that I asked you to kidnap me.”

“What if they don't believe you and think you have a Stockholm syndrome?”

“I'll...think of something. Come on, we're going too far with the what-ifs.”

“You gotta be prepared for any situation. You'd know that if you carried the heavy burden of being a dom,” Chan tsks at you.

“I'd know that if you let me,” you give him a wink.

“That will only happen the day I agree to fake-kidnap you.”

“So, tomorrow? It's a date!” you grin excitedly.

“Keep dreaming, darling.”

“Oh, I will.”

The End

[melancholyhigh]

ALL MINE.

ft. leon x f!reader

synopsis. you realize you're in love with your roommate. it sucks that he's ignoring you all of a sudden.

content. 4.7k words. smut. slight jealousy/possessiveness, subby leon, dry humping, handjob, finger sucking, praise & degradation kink, unprotected p in v (riding), overstimulation, creampie, slight subspace.

note. i had mental anguish while writing this so i apologize if it's not my best. i'm also sorry for being so inactive :((

masterlist. i love feedback & reblogs <3

Leon S. Kennedy was probably the best roommate you could’ve asked for.

He had fit the criteria you hand conjured for the perfect housemate the first time you met. Leon was calm, and the apartment was pretty clean. From what you can tell, he cared enough about himself and his surroundings. 

Hell, the place looked almost uninhabited save for some trinkets and a few bits of his personality sprinkled about.

Only if you had known what you were getting yourself into when you had agreed to become his roommate.

–-

The first month of residing with Leon was great. You rarely crossed paths and never really communicated with each other due to how stressful looking for a new job was, and then proceeding to attend said job was tiring enough for you to make little social interactions.

He was relatively closed off as well. Not talking to you unless necessary or common courtesy such as a simple ‘Good morning.’

After you settled in, you noticed how much of a strange man Leon was. For one, when he did go to work, he left for weeks at a time, and in his return, he was even more closed off somehow. Leon doesn’t spare you a glance or a greeting, only grunting if you ask if he is alright.

He’s also covered in bruises and bandages, leaving you more concerned.

It made you question who really was your roommate.

In the first meeting you and Leon had, you inquired about his job, mostly to try and figure out how your schedule would work, but also with genuine interest. At the time, he merely shrugged, not answering your question point blank, telling you not to worry about it. 

He mentioned his past job as a police officer. You’d dare to ask him more about it, but you didn’t want to pry, leaving the questions for another day.

Lately, you’ve been wishing more than ever that he had answered the question instead of dodging it. In rare moments that you focus on anything else but your job, it often leads you to think about Leon and what he does while he’s away.

It annoys you too that he doesn’t tell you when he’s leaving. He doesn’t owe it to you, but some nights you think he’s getting a drink, only to return a few days later bloodied and bruised.

One night, your overthinking got the worst of you after Leon returned to your apartment in the worst condition you’ve seen in the past few months you’ve been living with him.

Up late, you were in the shared living room, wondering when he’d get home. It had been two weeks since you had last seen Leon. It was way longer than his usual business days. You had been worrying nonstop, not getting a wink of sleep. Was he dead? You’d be the first suspect on the list.

You had called him multiple times, all going to voicemail. That is until you heard the faint creaking of the front door. There he walked in, faced all fucked up. His lip busted, sporting ugly yellow and purple bruises all over the exposed flesh of his body, and a bandage wrapped around his left hand blotted with dry blood.

He was awkwardly shuffling into the room, trying not to wake, you presume. A bit late for that. 

“Where the hell were you, Leon?” your voice breaks the early morning silence. 

You see him jump slightly in surprise, almost dropping his bag. A different emotion washes through him. A mix of fright and guilt, it’s different from what you’re used to seeing him with.

Leon quickly composes himself, going back to his stoic expression. Taking his shoes caked in mud off at the front door, resting his bag down, he walks over to the kitchen opening the fridge. The light streams out, illuminating the kitchen as you follow him, awaiting an answer.

“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about it?” His back is turned to you, rummaging through the contents of the fridge.

“You’ve been gone for two weeks,” you stress with exhaustion, eyeing his injuries. “What the fuck happened to you.”

He flexes his broad shoulder before turning around to face you. His gaze pins you down before he’s back to ignoring you as he chugs the cold bottled water in his grasp. The fridge is still open, and it adds more nuisance within you.

“It’s not that bad,” he shrugs. He finally shuts the fridge close, only the moon’s light filtering into the room. “Why do you care, anyways?”

“‘Cause when you go missing, I’ll be the one locked up, Leon,” you say. He’s staring at you, trying to suppress a smirk. 

“You sure it’s not ‘cause you like me? I’m here to stay.” Is this fucker teasing you? He’s nothing like you first met him. Maybe it’s the blood loss. But to be fair, this is the first proper conversation you’ve had with him in months — you didn’t know how he actually was. 

Rolling your eyes, you ignore him, shifting your focus to his bandaged hand, blood seeping through the fabric. 

“Let me take a look at that, please,” you urge, taking his hand into yours. You overlook the questions blooming in your mind to tend to his injury.

“Okay.”

You turn the lights on, searching for a first aid kit. Once you retrieve it, you’re back in front of Leon, who’s sat patiently at the dining table. 

You roll the sleeves of your sweatshirt up before carefully peeling the fabric sticking to his bloody skin. The large gash on the back of his hand makes you uneasy. It’s deep, almost to the bone, and blood spills onto his pale skin.

“Your stitches reopened,” you tell him, cleaning the wound with a damp cloth. What did he do to warrant such an injury? “If it worsens, you need to go to the hospital.” 

“Mhm, you work with patients?” You shake your head, wrapping the wound with fresh gauze. 

“What’s your job, then?”

You scoffed, “Some office job. What’s got you busy, huh?”

“Some government bullshit.”

–-

That night the relationship you had with your roommate shifted. For the better, you supposed. 

You also bonded better with him the following morning while driving him to the hospital. He was so dramatic, yet he continued to undermine his clearly serious injury, refusing to go. The bleeding had not stopped, and you were worried it could get infected.

He was such a baby. You had bargained with him for his own health, promising to do his chores for a whole month so his hand doesn’t get amputated. 

You never really did figure out what his job was, but you guessed it was most likely confidential. It was a vague answer to your question. He could be lying, but once you’re not behind bars, you can’t complain.

You and Leon spent more time with each other.

Even though you had no idea what his job was, he did tell you why he couldn’t disclose such information, something along the lines of putting your safety in jeopardy. Wasn’t him as your roommate just as dangerous? But you didn’t bother. He had his reasons.

Leon, on the other hand, probably learned too much about you and your job. 

You weren’t familiar with the city or the people, so it was nice to talk to someone, and you may have gone overboard. You were here for a better quality of life, and it was significantly better than where you previously lived. 

You loathed your job. Your co-workers were so condescending and passive-aggressive. Not to mention, you couldn’t quit. It paid enough for you to shut your mouth. Well, not to Leon.

You’re sure he’s sick of you talking and complaining. And when you’re not complaining, you both still get along about other stuff. You mostly banter, though, because Leon is such a child.

The guy can barely care for himself, contradicting what you initially thought about him. You care for him most nights after his so-called ‘missions.’ You rebandage his wounds, scolding him for not caring about himself while he’s looped up on pain meds.

Any other night — when he’s actively not trying to get killed, and you’re not incredibly busy — you both get drunk to attempt to forget about responsibilities. Often you were spouting drunken, nonsensical rambles as Leon somehow listened to.

Ironically enough, Leon cared about your well-being more than you do. Maybe you’re delusional, but you swear he does more than a normal roommate should. It’s because you’re constantly checking up on him, you reasoned. He’s just a respectable person.

But what kind of roommate consistently asks about how you’re going? What roommate get you your favourite takeout when you’re not feeling your best? What roommate threatens to beat the shit out of your annoying co-workers?

But you’ve acknowledged that Leon wasn’t your average housemate. Not just his job, but who the fuck looks that good when they’re bleeding out?

–-

Your job has a celebration upcoming, the company’s 50th anniversary. You barely made it a year working for the place, but you want to make a good impression. You also don’t want to bore yourself to death, so why not coerce your lovely roommate to join you as your plus one?

“I’m not gonna go. Don’t you hate that place?” You stare up at him, sulking. 

“Good impressions,” you say before pleading, “C’mon, Leon, please. We can go to the bar after.”

He gives you an unimpressed look before turning away from you.

“I’ll pay for you.” You’re going to go broke because of this man. It catches his attention. 

“So desperate,” he chuckles.

“You’re going?”

“I’m gonna run you dry.”

–-

You definitely weren’t prepared to see Leon in a suit when you exited your room. He’s sat on the couch, his hand nervously running through his hair — notably slicked down with gel. 

“You that serious about making me go bankrupt?” You voice jokingly, breaking Leon out of his thoughts.

His eyes trail along your body, admiring the dress you wore — how it hugs the curves of your body — noticeably gulping as he stands up. The black suit fits his body, accentuating his broad physique and nice ass.

“I keep my promises. I hope you do too.” He says, before mumbling, “You look nice as well.”

You smile at him, ignoring the unusual feeling blooming in your stomach.

The event was indeed incredibly bland. You’re glad you bribed Leon into joining you. He’s been your saving grace. His sly quips and awful jokes have made the experience increasingly more bearable.

Your enjoyment seemed to fizzle when your co-workers wanted to converse with you. They never did before. Why would they now?

Then you realize too late that they’re not here for you. They’re there for the attractive male next to you. You watch in amusement as the girl blatantly ignores you in favour of Leon.

She’s sweet, you’d imagine, but Leon looks awkward, and there’s an uneasy feeling bubbling in your gut as she squeezes his arm in a flirting manner. The feeling is unlike what you’ve felt earlier.

You could go for a drink right now. 

The poor girl’s attempt at seducing Leon goes on longer than you’d like. He’s uncomfortable, and you admire her persistence, but it’s getting on your nerves.

Didn’t she get the memo? He’s your plus one.

You decide to interrupt their conversation, you’re not particularly proud of it, but you want to get drunk. Maybe you’re doing Leon a favour as well.

You pull him away, not offering an explanation, just the promise of getting wasted. 

When you’re at the bar, you both get settled, conversing and taking shots, all on you, of course.

Leon mentions that he understands why you hate your job and colleagues, and you laugh lightly at his claims. While you two talk, a few guys approach you, trying to get your number or asking to buy you a drink, ignoring Leon.

It wasn’t a usual occurrence, but it happened more often than not. And even though you find it flattering, it did begin to irritate you.

You politely declined their requests with an uncomfortable smile on your lips. It felt wrong to indulge in their proposals in front of Leon.

Leon’s eyes gleam with an unknown emotion as another guy approaches you. His grasp on the glass tightens, and it looks like it's about to shatter.

You once again deny the request. As you get more tipsy, your filter worsens as you half-heartedly refuse the poor guy. He walks away, visibly irritated. 

“That’s the fifth guy to ask for your number,” Leon states, taking a swig of his whiskey. His grip on the glass loosens, but his shoulders are still tense. 

You roll your eyes at his over-exaggeration. His suit’s jacket is off, revealing the white button-up shirt underneath. 

“I wasn’t interested. A few girls asked you out, too,” you declared bitterly. You’re not drunk per se, just very tipsy. 

“They’re not my type.”

“What’s your type?” Taking a sip from your drink, you observe Leon shake his head before downing his glass.

“Having fun?” you inquire, and Leon’s grateful you changed the topic.

“Liquor’s better when it’s free.”

–-

It’s the next day, and you haven’t seen Leon since. 

When you woke up, you had a pounding headache. You walked into the kitchen expecting to be greeted by an equally shit-faced Leon, but he was nowhere to be found. It was unlike him.

Usually, he’s already making fun of you for being a lightweight, and you attempt to make breakfast together. He’s probably still in bed. He did drink more than expected. It was a miracle you both got home in one piece.

You took some painkillers before heading back to bed. If you’re up to it, maybe you’ll make breakfast later. 

A few hours have passed, and still no sign of Leon. You wonder if he went to work, but that didn’t make sense. Why would he go to work with a hangover? Leon was a bit careless, though.

He was most likely ignoring you. That would be the last thing you wanted. He was the only person you cared to talk as pathetic as it sounds. Did you say something last night that upset him? He was his usual self, but you probably were too drunk to notice something off.  

He probably has work-related things to worry about. Not everything was about you. Though, you were still concerned.

You had camped in the kitchen for a while, waiting for Leon so you could confront him. You wanted to make sure he was alright.

When he did enter the kitchen, you tried to start a conversation, only for him to dismiss you entirely. He refused to respond to your troubles, getting what he needed and returning to his room. 

You thought it was a one-off thing, but sadly it wasn’t. Leon ignored you the following days, leaving you perplexed. You wished Leon would talk to you about what’s going on. Isn’t that what friends do? Communicate? Every attempt you tried to make was fruitless.

All he’s been doing was ignoring you, and it broke your heart.

His sudden indifference reminded you of when you first moved in. This abrupt disinterest in you left you staring at the ceiling in your bedroom, reflecting on your relationship with Leon. 

You despise how he’s been acting lately. 

You despise his reckless behaviour. You despise his hair that falls so perfectly. You despise how considerate he is. You despise how sweet he is to you. You despise how attractive he looks when he walks about the place shirtless, in short shorts that barely contain the flesh of his thighs and lay low on his hips when he’s sweaty after working out.

You despised how other girls looked at Leon. You despised how other guys looked at you, wishing it were him.

But you don’t hate him, far from it.

You loved his company. From the first night to the night at the bar. You wouldn’t want him to share that with anyone else. He was familiar, so it hurts that he’s been ignoring you. 

He’s treating the moments you’ve had with him seemingly worthless, the time you’ve shared — the late nights when you cared for him. The insecurities you have confided with him. Did it mean anything to him?

He most likely wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings, and you doubt he could. His job explains itself, but you’re still worried as a friend — as his roommate.

Your overthinking has got the best of you, and fuck it. You’re going to confront Leon, whether he likes it or not.

–-

You’ve been building the courage to knock on his door for 20 minutes, pacing back and forth in front of his room door. You didn’t want to make him hate you more, but his bitchy attitude made you wonder why you even liked him in the first place.

Knocking on his door, you instantly regretted it, not wanting to make a fool of yourself, but you had to face him sooner or later. The door surprisingly opens, presenting you with a tired Leon dressed in nothing but his boxers. You probably just woke him up.

When you meet his soft gaze, his brows furrow, and he scowls. It’s been a while since he’s looked at you, so you can take what you can get. 

“What do you want?” Leon dully asks, crossing his arms over his bare chest as he leans on the door’s framing. Okay, so he’s talking to you after a week of silence, granted, not like he used to, but it’s something.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” you counter bluntly, glaring at him. His facade crumbles, shoulders dropping as he frowns. He quickly recovers, scoffing and looking anywhere but at you.

“What are you talking about–” 

“I’m not a dumbass, Leon. Just why? Are you okay?” you quickly cut off his poor excuse of a response. He shakes his head, his messy hair concealing his eyes as he tries to reply.

The look you’re sending him gives him goosebumps as if you’re reading him with just a glance. You are, and it’s terrifying yet so arousing that you can do so easily. Your eyes don’t leave him, trying to figure out his problems. It’s equally arousing how much you care for him, looking through him like he’s glass. 

His composure crashes, stuttering an answer you’re unable to pick up. You stare at him, confused at his sudden nervous behaviour. 

Leon’s selfish for wanting you all to himself. He doesn’t want to hurt himself with the rejection that you may throw his way. He doesn’t want to feel like that even though your actions say otherwise. He wants to tell you that, but what he says is much more pathetic.

“God, it’s you,” he repeats. The look of disappointment that crosses your face hurts. It hurt that he’s the one that made you look so broken so quickly.

“What?” Your voice falters, but you’re curious despite the ache in your chest. You’re not surprised. Maybe, a bit shattered.

“Not like that. I mean, fuck, I don’t know how to say this.” He awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as he tries to formulate his words, a blush dispersing on his pale cheeks. 

“I was fucking mad, okay? Not at you– never at you. I hated how those guys looked at you. I know I shouldn’t feel like this. You’re my roommate, for fucks sake, but–” He continues to ramble on, and the words he spews give you whiplash. 

You’re simultaneously flattered by his words and pissed. He was acting like a prick because he was jealous. As much as you were annoyed by his immature behaviour, you couldn’t ignore the butterflies swarming your stomach.

You impulsively crash your lips into his. He stops his rambling, startled, before melting into the kiss, his long lashes fluttering close. His plush lips move softly against yours. The kiss is soft and much better than either of you could’ve imagined.

Pulling away from him, you catch your breath, huffing, “You dumb boy.”

His cheeks darken in colour, the blush leading to the expanse of his chest. He grips your hips, tugging you closer to his body. You feel his dick hardening in confined in his boxers, pressed to your lower stomach.

“Fuck,” Leon gasps softly. You tuck strands of hair behind his ear, your nose bumping together as you admire his pretty face.

“All that from a little kissing?” you breathed against his bruised lips, your fingers toying with the waistline of his boxers. “You want me to help you, baby boy?”

“Yes, please.” 

You frown, moving away from his hold. His face falls, his brows furrow in confusion as he pouts. “C’mon, Leon. You really think you’re going to get to cum that easily after ignoring me?”

“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to. Please touch me. I– I’ll be your good boy,” he pleads, moving back closer to you, wrapping his arms around your midsection. 

“Okay, sweetheart. You’ll get to cum if you behave.”

He captures your lips in a quick kiss, moaning softly before pulling away. He takes your hand, leading you into his bedroom, and you observe the new surroundings. Even though you’ve been roommates for nearly a year, you never saw the inside of his room. Posters of bands you weren’t familiar with were on the walls of his room. 

“On the bed, baby,” you coo, and Leon shuffles on the navy blue sheets of his bed, leaning against the headboard. You crawl onto the soft sheets, straddling him as you seat yourself on his plush thighs. His warm palms shoot to rest on your waist, softly squeezing them.

He tugs you closer to him, pressing your chest flat against his. Leon gasps softly, his nipples rubbing against the coarse fabric of your tank top.

“S’much better than I imagined,” he sighs, guiding your hips so your clothed cunt drags along his prominent bulge. He groans, feeling your cunt dripping, soaking through your panties and shorts. 

You move back from him, halting your movements on his hardening cock as you’re sat on his thighs once more. Your hands grip his arms, and even though he’s stronger than you, he ceases his motion. It’s so fucking hot how this huge man submits to you. 

“You’ve thought about me in your lap?” you tease, palming his erection through his boxers. The head leaks precum, staining the delicate fabric. “Playing with your pretty cock?”

“Mhm,” he whines softly, bucking his hips to your warm touch. His head tilts back, knocking the wooden headboard quietly as he writhes at your touch. 

“Ohh, you poor thing. Cummin’ in your hand wishing it was mine,” you mock, pulling Leon’s boxers down to reveal his throbbing dick flushed pink. It aches for your touch, twitching and smearing his precum on the dark curls on his happy trail.

“Fuck, yes.” Leon whimpers when you wrap your digits around his cock, squeezing it, oozing more precum, coating your fingers as you stroke him slowly. His hips eagerly thrust to meet your movement.

“So, so pretty.” The blush on his cheeks somehow deepens at your words. His head is spinning, and not just from your touch. He roughly grips his silken sheets, bunching them up. You thought he was pretty?

“God, baby, you’re the prettiest.” 

Fuck, had he said that out loud? 

His back arches as he nears his orgasm, pleasure rushing through his body. His thighs tremble as he spills his cum, coating your hand. You don’t stop tugging on his weeping cock, living for the little cries he makes from being overstimulated.

“Don’t, m’ sensitive– shit,” Leon whines, and you finally take your hand off his spent dick, admiring his cum dribbling onto your fingers. Leon props himself up, chest heaving as he tries to collect himself.

“Did I say you could cum?” you tease. Leon’s eyes widen for a second before pleading for forgiveness.

“I- I didn’t mean to. God, I’m so sorry. I’ll be your good boy.” He sniffles softly, and you take pity on his cries. You’ll punish him another time.

“It’s okay, honey. Can you open wide f’me?” you say. Leon does as he’s told, parting his lips and sticking his tongue out. You wished you could take a picture. 

You place your index and middle finger on his tongue, pressing down. Leon wraps his lips around your fingers, sucking his cum off them. Moaning softly, he peers up at you through his lashes and gags when you push your fingers further down.

“You’re such a slut, Leon,” you say, pulling your fingers out his mouth, lips slicked with his spit. You flicked his nipples, causing him to moan loudly. His cock is beginning to harden once more.

“I’m your slut.”

“Think you can go one more round, baby?” you asked, hovering over his rock-hard cock, before sinking down. Your drenched pussy through your thin shorts stimulates his overly sensitive dick, and he groans softly, squeezing your waist.

“Wanna take care of you too, angel,” he murmurs into your ear as you grind yourself onto his erection. “Can I eat you, please?”

“Maybe next time, honey.”

“Fuck, okay. Can you kiss me?” You press your lips to his softly, and he whimpers sweetly into your mouth. Pulling away from him, you take your shorts and panties off, and they’re fucking drenched. Leon tugs your tank top off, and you giggle at his eagerness.

Your body, so soft and warm, is pressed against Leon’s. It’s almost enough to make him cum, and he’s not enough inside you yet. You slide your dripping cunt along his shaft, ensuring he’s fully hard. Leon fucking whines each time the tip of his cock nicks your entrance, begging to plunge in.

Every time the tip nudges your clit, your cunt clenches, and each flutter sends his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Please, angel. Fuck me. Use me– I don’t care. ‘M all yours.” You guide his cock to your entrance before finally sinking down slowly. The tip enters you with a soft moan. He’s so fucking thick. Once fully sheathed in you, you grip his shoulders for support.

“You’re all mine to use, right? F- Fuck, you’re stretching me so good, Leon.”

Your tight walls hug him so tightly, and when you bounce on his cock, each drag of his sensitive dick adds to the building pressure in his tummy. He filled you so good, reaching spots you didn’t think were possible as you used him like your toy.

Leon thrusts his hips to meet your pace, your ass slapping his thighs, making obscene sounds. He can’t get enough of you. From your tits bouncing as you rode his cock, or the expression you hold when he hits that special spot. 

It’s so much better than he has imagined.

He rubs your clit with his thumb, a broken whimper leaving him when your gummy walls clench around him tightly. The pressure in his tummy was rising, and you were no better as he played with your clit.

“‘M so close, sweetheart. Can I cum in you, please?” he pleads, his hips stuttering to meet each of your moves. His pink lips parted, eyes barely stayed open, and he looked utterly ruined.

“Yes, baby.” You trail kisses along his neck, sucking marks along the column of his throat. You’re pleased with yourself that you’re the reason he has those marks now. Each bruise you suck on his flesh adds another butterfly to his tummy. He’s all yours now.

“Cum with me, please.”

After a few more thrusts, the pressure within him bursts he cums inside you, filling you with his warm seeds. You climax along with him. Your cunt spasms around his sensitive cock, gushing its arousal, clinging to his happy trail.

You collapse on top of him, your head falling on his shoulder. Leon kisses the top of your head, nuzzling into your hair. You try to get off to clean yourself and Leon up, but arms encircle your waist, preventing you from doing so.

“Stay with me, sweetheart. Don’t want you leaving.”

You comply, laying with him, your skin, sticky with sweat and cum, clings to his as you both enjoy each other’s embrace.

[heats-lover-girl]

Funny moments with your baby/toddler.

Feat. Kid, Killer, Heat and Wire

Tw: toilet water, cussing, mentions of throwing up

(I'm gonna give the babies names, if you dont like the name you can change it. But all but one are scottish oriented.)

Kid:

When Kid doesn't get his way, or if he doesn't like something, theres usually a grunt or growl of frustration that follows. Eilidh, your one year old, happened to pick it up the day you where getting her to try a new food.

You had Eilidh in a high chair that Kid made, smacking her little hands on the tray as you spooned some mashed peaches into her mouth. Eilidh's happy face turned sour and she let the mashed food dribble down her chin, "Oh no, Eili, did you not like it?" you giggled. All you got in return was furrowed brows and a growl, it made you pause for a moment before bursting into laughter.

Kid walked into the room seeing his daughter with a disgusted face and his wife practically on the floor beside herself, "What the fuck is going on?"

You look at him with mischief before looking at your now grumpy baby, "Watch, Eili, do you want another bite?" you raise the spoon back to her mouth and she backs away as far as she could before letting out another growl.

It was like a flip switched in Kid's head before he started laughing too. "You copying daddy, pip squeak? That's great!" All he got in response was a now hangry Eilidh yelling and slapping the tray.

"Ok, ok. Let's try something else. I'm sorry baby." You giggle out.

Killer:

Victoria had Killer wrapped around her little finger, so when she asked her daddy if he wanted to play tea party with her, you bet your ass he put everything down and played tea party with his little girl.

So there he was, sitting in a tiny chair in the bedroom, drinking 'tea' (It was really water that Victoria was getting from the connected bathroom). And Killer hyped her up by telling her how great it was.

Every time she brought him another cup he told her it was better than the last, until you came in looking for him.

You watched her bring him his (fifth) cup before asking, "Where is she getting the water?" Killer turned to you, "The bathroom, why?"

You looked him in the eyes with a knowing smile, "Kill, she's two, she can't reach the sink." you tell him.

Killer sat there before looking down, "No, no she can't." he says defeatedly. He stood up, "Exuse me miss Victoria, Daddy needs to go to the bathroom." you look at him, "What are you gonna do?" "Purge."

Heat:

Alisa was a quiet child, in fact, you and Heat where sure she was mute. Both of you where fine with that of course, worried sure, but you and Heat where teaching her basic sign language so she could still communicate with anyone in case of an emergency.

It was a random morning on the Victoria, Ailsa sat between you and Heat so you had an eye on her in case she choked on her food.

That particular morning Heat thought it would be funny to steal one of his daughter's pieces of bacon and winked at her when Ailsa caught him

And in true three year old fashion, this offended her, so while in the middle of you talking with Killer you hear "Mommy," followed by, "Papa stole my food!"

It was silent before the table burst out laughing (you think Killer is laughing, his shoulders are shaking)

You and Heat sat gobsmacked (Your husband more so betrayed than anything) before laughing at Ailsa's confused face.

Guess you didn't need to teach her sign language....

Wire:

Wire had Adair with him in the navigation room while he was writing down charts. The six month old laying in a bassinet, quietly looking at his surroundings with Wire slightly rocking it every once in a while.

The navigator went to erase a mistake when the paper ripped (I hate it when that happens), and was startled to hear a small giggle in the once silent room.

Wire looked over to his son to see Adair's gummy smile and huffed a smile, he turned back to his desk and grabbed an extra piece of paper before looking at his son again. "This funny?" He asks before ripping it.

Adair was sent into full body giggles, his laughter filling the room as Wire continued to rip up the paper, hearing the noise as you passed by, you stuck your head in. "What's going on?" You ask.

Your husband looked at you, " Its funny, Mama's" he says before ripping another piece, sending Adair into another round of giggling. "Ah." You laugh.

[dovveri]

kidnapping 101

synopsis: who dared kidnap you? you were the mafia boss of your city who the hell had the audacity to pull a move this big?

warnings: guns, kidnapping, swearing, mafia stuff yk but like its comedic? so its not srs or angsty

w/c: 2.6k

a/n: put off posting this bcs i wanted to add more plot more word count but then that anon said they dont read long fics anyway so i cbb. it's implied momo x reader but it can also just be everyone friends yay

.ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊°.~♡︎

you had a straw bag pulled over your head and felt hands shoving you into a hard wooden chair, hands tied behind your back. you huff, unbelieving of the situation you've found yourself in, but try to keep yourself collected enough to assess the situation and to not let your attackers know they had caught you by surprise.

you doubt anyone could guess you were a mafia boss in your day life. you were just another university student after all. funnily enough, university students were also your main customer base, they needed cheap, accessible drugs, and you provided. though they never dealt with you personally, you were worth much more than rookie errand runs and simple intimidation.

so how the fuck did these people find out who you were?

you were captured coming out of the university library, you weren't even up to anything illegal today. you just wanted to get away from all the responsibilities underground and actually get some study done for once. you didn't get to catch a glimpse of your assailants before you were drugged and fell unconscious.

you strain your ears, trying to hear the muffled whispering going on.

"-what? what do we do now?"

"how am i supposed to know?!."

"i don't know you're smarter than me!"

"ugh oh my god i can't believe nayeon put us up to this. did we really just drug someone?! wait fuck- look she's waking up-"

the bag is pulled off your head and you snarl unceremoniously, blinking to adjust to the dim light in the room, quickly surveying your surroundings and tugging on your restraints to check on them.

huh. they were only loosely tied up, you could get out of these easily.

you squint at the two girls in the room, they had to be around your age, but you had never seen them before. they weren't on any of your watchlists and you'd know if they belonged to rival mafia gangs.

"who are you?" you demand, voice authoritative and loud, forcing them to shrink back into one another, unsure of what to do.

"w-who are you?!" one of them squeaks out.

you blink.

"you two drugged and kidnapped someone you didn't know?"

they exchange glances, before looking back at you, "well... when you put it like that..."

"momo!"

"what?! she's right sana! what are we doing?!"

"i don't know!"

"neither do i!"

you watch them bicker, fiddling with your restraints and slowly undoing them without catching their attention.

"okay that's enough. who asked you to capture me?"

their faces whip back to yours, one of them, momo, speaks up again. "um... i'm pretty sure we're not meant to tell you that."

"nayeon right?"

she gasps, "are you a mind-reader?!"

you scoff, "i heard you talking when i was waking up."

momo mutters to herself, blushing for having thought otherwise.

"who is nayeon?"

sana speaks up this time, "our friend."

"and your friend asked you to... kidnap me for what reason?"

"erm..." they look at each other again, silently communicating and nervously flitting their eyes around the room, "we're not entirely sure."

"are you two her slaves or something?"

"what?! no!"

"then why are you doing whatever she asks?"

"because she's our friend!"

"right... slaves."

they frown at each other, unsure of themselves.

"so you both don't know who i am?"

"no. should we?"

you're interrupted then, the door to the room opening loudly and another woman striding in.

she pauses when she sees you, blinking slowly, and then she turns on her heel, eyes ablaze and in panic.

"guys who the fuck is this?!"

"how are we supposed to know?! you asked us to kidnap them!"

"what the fuck?! i didn't ask for you to kidnap anyone! i asked for you to steal the answers to the exam next week!"

"no you didn't!"

"yes i did!"

"that's not what you said momo!" sana turns to momo, pointing a finger at her accusingly.

"wha- nayeon you told me you needed to interrogate the person who wrote the exam!"

"that was a joke momo i didn't mean literally!"

"you need to specifiy!"

"what?! why would you think i meant kidnap them?! that's not normal!"

"i thought you were doing it for the thrill or something!"

"sana! why didn't you stop her?!"

sana shrinks, hiding behind momo, "i dunno you've asked us to do some pretty weird stuff before nayeon... it wasn't that out of line."

"what!? like what?!"

"don't put me on the spot! i can't think of anything right now! like- like- like that time you asked us to set off fireworks and we ended up setting the school on fire!"

"that wasn't- you weren't meant to build a bonfire in the middle of an empty classroom! of course the fire would catch!"

"that was my idea...." momo pouts, looking adorably embarrassed.

nayeon sighs, turning back to you, "i'm sorry for all this. this has been a major misunderstanding. are you- do you want us to do anything for you? you won't take this to the police or anything right..?"

you chuckle, the situation absurd to you, how two girls managed to kidnap the most powerful mafia boss in the city by accident.

your thoughts are interrupted by hushed bickering behind nayeon.

"what are we gonna do about the drugs?"

"i don't know give them back to the person that gave them to you."

"they looked scary though..."

"momo why did you accept drugs from a random person anyway?"

"we needed a sedative to kidnap them!"

"you did what?!" nayeon flips around again, eyes comically wide.

momo flinches, backing up into sana who yelps when the other girl steps on her foot in haste, "erm- we- uh..."

"you drugged them?!"

"well-"

nayeon's flipping around to you again, going as far as to bow down and get on her knees, putting her forehead to the floor and apologising profusely, "i'm so sorry! i'll take responsibility for their actions please don't take this the wrong way we really didn't mean to and this has all just been a big misunderstanding-"

you can't help but burst into laughter, shoulders sagging in relief now that you realise you're not in any real danger and your identity was still safe.

they look between each other a little confused, still concerned you were going to turn them in or ask them to do something for you that would be less than ideal. you think it's very cute honestly, you were always surrounded by too-serious mafia security and people asking you what to do, it was refreshing to be around people who knew how to let loose a little. money was important to you as a mafia boss, but you wished your organisation knew how to have relax a little more, the bad guys were always meant to be more lively after all.

"sorry- this is just quite funny, i don't think i've laughed like that in a long time."

they exchange nervous glances again, keeping their distance. you stand, having undone your restraints long ago, stretching a little with a curious glint in your eyes.

sana and momo gape at you, "h-how did you- were you always- didn't we tie you up?"

you shrug, shaking your hands loose for effect, "they weren't hard to undo."

"o-oh... wait who are you again?"

you stretch out a hand to the three of them, "l/n y/n. nice to meet you all. and you can relax, i won't be pressing any charges. you're safe."

"r-right..." nayeon comes forward and shakes your hand gingerly, letting it go as soon as she could and shrinking back next to the other two.

you raise an eyebrow, "so where'd you get such a strong sedative momo? it's alright if i use your names right?"

"y-yes of course." nayeon responds for her, but momo looks back at you, thinking before she replies.

"erm... well i was kinda just asking around outside the campus bar- obviously i didn't say we were going to use it to kidnap you, i just thought uni students might have some sort of access to like party drugs or whatever. i didn't realise it was going to knock you out like that-"

"and who gave you this drug?"

"erm... he was one of the older students i think... the most notable thing about him was his hair. he had big orange hair, curly, it made him kinda look like a clown."

your eyebrows crease together in a frown, so that's why the drug had worked so well. it was one of your own. you were only asking momo to see if there was suddenly new competition around campus for your drug business, but it seemed kim heechul, one of your drug pushers, had made moves of his own.

"what did he say to you?"

"he just told me what kind of drug it was. he didn't even ask me to pay actually- that was the main reason i took it. he just said if i was looking to have a good time this would be the perfect drug for it."

your mind works quickly, piecing the pieces together, anger bubbling up inside you at the realisation of one of your employee's actions.

"a-are... are you okay y/n?" momo looks concerned, stepping forward hesitantly.

you purse your lips, "i'm sorry momo. i just need to make sure... you didn't take any of this drug for yourself did you?"

she frowns, "no. why are you asking?"

you breathe a sigh of relief, "that's good. you three may not know this, but the drug you used to sedate me was mine. i kind of... control the drug market at our uni. i probably should've said that in my introduction to you all. i'm a mafia boss. it's also why i'd never go to the police and turn you in, that'd probably be exactly what they wanted... me to waltz right into a police station where they could hold me indefinitely."

they stare at you in shock, slowly coming to their senses.

"wait so... why would you tell us this? are you not afraid we'll turn you in?"

you laugh, "no. because we're at what you'd call an impasse. you turn me in and i turn you in. so the best solution for both of us is to do neither."

"oh..."

"anyway, i'm sorry you had to go through that momo. the ass that gave you those drugs has already been on a short leash. he probably intended for you to take the drugs and to take advantage of you while you were out. i may run one of the biggest crime organisations in the city but i still have morals. i mean- don't get me wrong i can see why he'd want you you're drop-dead gorgeous but if it were me, i'd just ask you out like any other normal person."

they stare at you while you ramble, still trying to process all the information they were learning, and trying to match their stereotype of a mafia boss in their heads to the girl their age dressed in an oversized hoodie and fluffy pyjama pants in front of them.

momo squeaks, "o-oh!"

"-like you're kind of adorable and really you're just my type which also grosses me out because why do i have the same type as that clown kim heechul- like you don't gross me out sorry i didn't mean for it to sound like that although i think it's quite well established by now that i think you're really attractive so it's definitely not you and kim heechul is definitely getting shot and-"

"woah! woah woah slow down i don't think anyone needs to get shot- um and it's okay you don't need to apologise- i probably should've known better than to take free drugs from a random person on the street..."

you frown, "don't say that. why don't you come under me? i wouldn't want anyone taking advantage of you like that again. and you won't have to worry about stupid stuff like whether or not it's your fault for being adorably innocent, you'll have my full protection."

momo blinks, looking at sana and nayeon for help.

you misunderstand, thinking she's worried about her friends, "your friends can join too. it's decent money, and i won't make any of you do anything you're not comfortable with. i get it y'know? i'm only able to pay for college because i do this, and i'm good at making other people do the dirty work. dangle some drugs and money and people will do anything for you."

nayeon lets out a sound of disbelief, "...this is a joke right? like surely this is a joke. sana pinch me."

sana does exactly that, but nayeon yelps, "not that hard!"

"you asked me to pinch you!"

"yeah pinch me not crab claw me!"

"i just got my nails done it's not my fault!"

before you can laugh at their antiques the door behind them slams open, people rushing in with guns pointed. there's a few screams before hands are clamped over mouths and you feel yourself be surrounded.

you react instantly when you see one of the intruders grab momo by the neck, pointing a gun at her head. you lurch forward, pushing past the people surrounding you, knocking the gun out of their hand and hitting the back of it into the person's head, rendering them unconscious with the force of your blow.

you quickly check on momo, helping her up and inspecting her neck, fingers tingling from where your skin meets.

"boss- what- are you okay?"

"shut up! i was fine! god can't i have a single day to myself without you numbskulls barging in?" you bark with your fingers still daintily checking momo's neck for any marks.

"you- you were kidnapped boss we were just-"

"i'm fine now aren't i? i can take care of myself. i don't need you all watching my every move! i'd like to have some privacy to myself every now and then." you turn back to the bodyguards looking awkward and shuffling around in their bulky protective wear and guns.

"y-yes boss. sorry boss."

"wait for me outside." you sigh, flicking your wrist in annoyance, "and find kim heechul. i need to have a word with him." you add as an afterthought.

they shuffle out the door they came through, mumbling apologies and tripping over themselves. you roll your eyes, refocusing back on the other women in the room.

"i'm sorry about that. are you guys okay?"

they stare at you, faces tinged with red, nayeon speaks up first. "so you weren't joking..."

you shake your head, "and i'm serious about coming under me too. i'm kinda afraid to say it but if word gets out that i was kidnapped, some of my rivals might go out looking for you three and try to recruit you for themselves. they'll treat you a lot worse than i will. and they generally won't take no for an answer..."

"but you'll take no for an answer?" sana chirps in.

"like i said- i don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to."

nayeon and sana look between them, but momo shrugs, smiling up at you, "i'm in. i like you. you're funny."

you grin at her, justifying the immediate connection you felt with her just by being able to anticipate the kind of person she was.

"well if momo's in i'm in." sana agrees happily, slinging an arm around momo.

they look towards nayeon who rolls her eyes and groans, "someone has to make sure the two of you don't kidnap the wrong person again right?"

they all break into laughter and you join them, feeling like you had people you could almost call friends for the first time since you'd started your mafia business.

[genderqueerdykes]

One of my friends went on a whole rant about how they hate men and think they're all bad, it made me feel super unsafe and scared. I don't know how to go about telling her to just... Not? (I'm a trans man btw and she knows this)

that sucks so bad, i'm sorry that she did that. right now people are taking things out on people who haven't hurt them and it needs to stop. she needs to care about how that affects you.

some talking points you can use would be

You're still a person. It might be good to gently tell her things like "Hey, I'm still a person, and my feelings matter," and "This is making me feel unsafe. I'm not sure if you realize that you are also creating a hostile environment and it's not fixing anything."

Pointing out that pathologically avoiding men will keep her trapped in her trauma indefinitely and that all she's doing is avoiding coming to terms with the specific injustices she has faced so she can move on to a happier, more complete life.

Pointing out that is paranoid thinking, and it might be good to point out that she's not the only woman on planet earth and the men around her are not salivating to assault her in specific.

Pointing out that this is catastrophizing behavior and black and white thinking. Instantly assuming the absolute worst about of group of people is catastrophizing, which is not a healthy thinking pattern. "Woman good" "men bad" is black and white thinking, which is also not a healthy thinking pattern.

Pointing out that hurting someone else just because you have been hurt is perpetuating the cycle of abuse, and that she as a woman is capable of abusing other people, including men.

This is judgmental behavior and she would be hurt as fuck for strangers to assume she's stupid, pathetic, weak, can't think for herself, can't defend herself, can't ever do anything for herself strictly just because she's a woman. Doing it to someone else doesn't make it right.

The people she is profiling as men may not be men- they may be closeted trans women, transfems going stealth, intersex people, and so on. they may also be queer. they may be a trans man, a gay man, a bisexual man, an intersex man, a polyamorous man, an aromantic man, an asexual man, a bigender man, a genderfluid man, a nonbinary man, a genderqueer man, or any other kind of queer man. She does not have special laser vision and cannot tell strangers' genders just by looking at them no matter how they present outwardly.

Claiming that one gender is wholesale better than another is exactly why we have misogyny & woman hating in the first place. Demonizing and villainizing a gender is where this all started.

Surrounding herself with women will not keep her safe because women are 100% capable of abusing, hurting, torturing, bullying, sexually assaulting, injuring and killing her. Women can be and are dangerous at times as well.

Women are not defenseless soft pathetic weak little waifs who can do no wrong and are constantly victims in every single scenario. Women should not be allowed to dodge accountability by virtue of being pathetic scared defenseless weak women, as this is misogyny, and women are accountable for their actions just like everyone else.

Women are not inherently comforting or nurturing. Women are not always focused on taking care of people and sometimes do enjoy hurting people who haven't hurt them.

Women are capable of lying, manipulating, stealing, and gaslighting.

The most dangerous people in the queer community right now are cis women, in the form of terfs and radfems. Women do not always have everyone's best interests in mind.

Pointing out that the concept of manhood and the existence of men isn't what hurt her, and that specific individual men were the ones that hurt her, and that she's not holding those specific men accountable by blaming their genders instead of their actions.

Doing this to and showing hostility toward men will not motivate them to treat women and femmes any better.

Saying that all men are inherently evil and predatory is allowing them to dodge accountability for their actions by saying "men are just like that". It doesn't give them a chance to improve and grow, which is something men are 100% capable of doing.

and if you can't bring it up to her, don't feel bad. people are literally proud of being judgmental assholes right now and it's sad as hell. treating men like this isn't going to fix any of this. best of luck to you, i hope she smartens up and learns that this isn't helping her at all. it's just turning her into a bitter, jaded asshole

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

It's quite important to me that Jason and Bruce's conflict is not a misunderstanding.

I truly believe that if each of them had perfect omniscient knowledge of every detail of what happened surrounding Jason's death, not only would they still have conflict, but they would still have the SAME conflict. Neither the question nor the answer of Under the Red Hood's climax would change.

Sheila's betrayal is often known about in canon (frankly there is no way anyone but Jason should know; it is deeply unclear to me why comics allow others to be aware of this) and it does nothing to change anything.

Bruce's one off attempt to kill the Joker at most changes a few lines during Jason's plea to let him kill him ("Please! I know you wanted to, I know you tried to once, what changed? Did you forget about me? Did you stop caring? Did you fucking well forgive?! You for whom vengeance is your only life?")

Learning about the people Jason saved doesn't do much to assuage Bruce's horror at what Jason has become ("Each life is precious, unique, irreplaceable. It does not absolve him.")

Learning exactly what was done to mourn him modifies the depth and force of Jason's fury some ("You buried and destroyed all trace of me, the actual person, didn't even try to tell Dick, and then blamed my death on my own irresponsibility?!") But otherwise does very little.

Talia's involvement being revealed does nothing, because frankly she didn't do much of anything except stall this confrontation and give him a knife. It's a really cool knife, granted, but it sure as fuck didn't convince Jason this needed to happen!

The exact details of Tim's induction into the role have the largest effect - on an issue that is utterly tertiary to his main conflict with Bruce ("Oh wow, cool, great, the new kid you got to emotionally support you actually volunteered, and has parents so his entire well-being doesn't hinge on your approval. Congrats on approaching the bare fucking minimum! Now, wouldn't you agree that you have a duty to protect him by taking care of the murderer who killed me?! Instead of fucking demanding that he be good enough not to get killed?!")

I have a whole damn post on the can of worms Jason understanding the events of War Games would open! ("YOU LET ANOTHER ONE OF US DIE WHILE I WAS GONE?!?")

I am convinced that the only ways in which their conflict becomes less intense is through a misunderstanding.

And I like it that way. I'm really, really glad it's not a misunderstanding, and that it can't be resolved through better communication. Their issues are real and meaningful and cannot be swept away without one actually conceding to the other's demands.

[gothoffspring]

This is my blog and I truly do not give one single fuck who I offend or upset. FUCK greenllamas. 🤷 FUCK lazy early access creators, fuck anyone who actually supports these lazy ass creators monetarily (if you download their cc for free like i do idc), fuck the entire system that ended up getting us to the point where """"""cc is a luxury """"

I know some of y'all havent been in the community for long but if you had any idea what it used to be like... This is absolutely pathetic. It'll never be as fun as it used to and it's because of greed point fucking blank

I fucking hate EA and I hope they die a miserable death as a company. There isn't one redeeming thing about them as a company, as a game studio, as an employer. They're fucking trash and they destroyed my favorite game of all time. Absolutely shit on it. decimated it. The game we have now is a fraction of what it should be and it's because of EA.

I fucking hate the culture surrounding custom content, the fact that it's NORMAL now to hop on and start your patreon with your FIRST EVER CC POST. Come the FUCK on.

There are so many shitty, greedy, negative things happening in this community and I will speak on them, i will bitch about it, and that's never changing lmao. I will also continue to uplift free cc creators and people in the community who do this for fun and passion not money. But don't tell me I'm "just being negative for no reason" or "tearing others down". Yeah I WILL tear you down if you use the community for financial gain in the laziest way possible because you deserve that shit. And yeah, I WILL continue to be fucking negative because I refuse to be a simmer who sucks ea's ass and ignores all of the huge fundamental problems going on in the community. Id rather some ppl in the community hate me for being outspoken than to just sit around and not say shit.

[talaok]

The cheating

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You misinterpret a situation and think that Joel is cheating on you.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, misunderstanding *not proofread*

| Request |

"where's Joel?"

"I'm happy to see you too Ellie" you joked, easing her backpack off her shoulders.

"No, I just mean, he usually picks me up from school" she explained

"He was busy today" 

"doing what? What's more important than me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"first of all, I love the way you think, never change it, second off all, I don't really know, he went out in a rush"

"He didn't tell you?"

"no, not really"

"oh I'm gonna have a field day scolding him about not declaring where he's going like he wants me to do"

"he does that because he loves you"

"yeah, well, it's time he gets a sip of his own love" she air-quoted the last word, making you smile.

"you little demon" you chuckled, pulling her closer as you started walking off.

"what the fuck?" you exclaimed, as you swung her backpack on your shoulders "What the fuck do you have in here?"

She looked up at you, a malicious glint in her eyes

"Have you ever heard of books?"

__ __ __

"So how was school?" you asked, as you rounded a corner to get onto the main street.

The wind was blowing but the sun was up in the sky, resulting in the perfect temperature.

The pebbles under your feet sounded with each step as the commune's buildings started surrounding you.

"useless, as usual," Ellie grumbled, her tone scarily matching her dad's. 

"oh c'mon, I'm sure you learned some interesting things"

"nope"

You glared at her "Did you at least have some fun?"

A smile crossed her face "That I did" she said, "Me and Dina found a dead frog!"

"ew! gross!" you grimaced "You call that fun?!"

She laughed "I do, it was so soft and... sticky" She touched her fingers like the feelings still lingered on them, and you watched with more than a bit of terror as her eyes sparkled at the memory.

It was at times like this you wondered just how much she had taken from Joel.

"I'm gonna puke" you commented, making her snort 

"Relax we didn't do anything bad, Dina insisted we gave it a funeral"

"thank god" you breathed a sigh of relief "That poor thing,"

"We buried it under a tree and gave speeches and everything, it was really moving"

"What did you say?" you asked, as you surpassed the refectory

"You know, the usual stuff" she shrugged "How good of a frog she was, how she'll be deeply missed yadda yadda yadda"

"of course" you chuckled "the usual stuff"

She smiled too now "I'm fucking starving" she moaned

"language" you reminded her, and as usual, got in return the same scowl that told you: first just how hypocritical that was coming from you, and second, that she was never gonna listen to you, and you both knew it.

"Why?" you ignored her look "Didn't you eat?"

"Today was vegetable loaf day" she responded like that was enough of an explanation.

"So what? That sounds good"

"it may sound good, but when you get that green goo on your plate I promise you're gonna change your mind"

"goo?" you made a face

"Yes. Goo." she repeated, "They say Ms. Meril dumps all the rotten vegetables into a pot and then adds a special ingredient, that I personally believe to be..."

You had stopped listening to her a while ago as your eyes stared at the image in front of you.

You would have recognized that hair from a mile away.

He was there. Joel was there.

And not alone.

Your eyes fully focused on the man and woman in front of the pub.

You could see they were talking, and not just that.

Her hand was on his chest, as she stood so close to him they could probably taste each other's breaths.

You couldn't see his face, Joel's face, your boyfriend's face, but what you could very well see was that he wasn't pushing her away or protesting in any other way.

If you hadn't known any better you would have thought they were about to kiss.

And just then, you realized that you did, in fact, not know any better. 

You felt your heart speed up, as your feet slowed down, unconsciously coming to a stop.

That's why he had to leave in a rush?

To go fuck another woman?

As much as you felt the rage boiling inside of you like a fire, what really prevailed was the pain of the realization.

You stood there, watching them, as tears clogged your throat.

So much for I love you

So much for I was lost before you

You could physically feel your stomach twist and turn and suddenly you were nauseous.

All this time, you thought, and he's cheating on me

"Hey, you ok?" Ellie's voice was distant, muffled behind the wave of emotions coming at you.

When you didn't respond, she followed your line of sight, still firmly pointed at the pair.

"Oh fuck" she said quietly, making everything worse.

You had secretly wished she would have seen something else, given you an explanation, and laughed at how crazy you were being, but her tone told you everything you needed to know.

"I'm-I'm sorry y/n" 

Never, had you heard her stutter.

"I can't believe this- he's an asshole, I'm gonna-" she took a breath "I'm gonna beat him up, and he's gonna regret this, I swear"

As much as you wanted to laugh, you feared the moment you opened your mouth a sob would have fled it instead.

"I can't believe this" she repeated, and the truth was, you couldn't either.

You were happy. There was nothing that didn't work, you had a great relationship, you barely fought, you loved each other's presence, everything was good... or so you thought at least.

And he had thrown it all down the drain

And for what? For some slut he just met?

No, you immediately stopped yourself, No I'm not gonna be one of those women that blames the other woman.

This is all his fault. 

He's a cheating, lying bastard who doesn't deserve a minute more of my time, you decided, taking a breath.

"Let's go," you told Ellie

She frowned, confused "A-are you sure"

"let's go"

__ __ __

Ellie hadn't left your side for a second. 

You were sat side by side on the couch, your gaze fixated on the chimney in front of you, as Ellie probably rummaged through her mind to think of something to say.

You were frozen. All the anger and the pain mixing together to create a seeming numbness.

"Listen I-" 

Ellie's words immediately stopped when the front door opened.

"Hi, I'm home!" He half yelled from the entrance.

"Hello?" He spoke again once he didn't get an answer.

His heavy steps sounded against the floor as he started walking to the living room.

"Where is every-" he stopped once he saw you "There you are, why didn't you answer?"

The confusion on his face only multiplied once you took both your expressions in.

"what is it?" he asked, clueless "I'm sorry I couldn't come get you today something came up"

"Yeah, something," Ellie remarked, disappointment clear in her tone.

Joel frowned "What are you talking about?" he asked, "what's she on about?" he turned to you now.

You were about to speak when the girl beside you interrupted you.

"You know very well what I'm talking about Joel, don't play dumb"

The wrinkles on his forehead increased as his puzzlement persisted.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," she said "I can't believe you would do something like that, especially to y/n"

"what are you-"

"we saw you" Ellie anticipated his question "In town"

"I don't kno-"

The girl wouldn't let him speak, and you'd be lying if you said that didn't make you feel a tiny bit better.

"there's no point in lying anymore we saw you with our own eyes Joel"

He looked at you once again, and you adverted his gaze to look at the very angry girl at your side.

"thank you, Ellie, but I think I can take it from here"

She hesitated, looking between you two "You sure?"

"yes" you swallowed your nerves away "don't worry"

She shot Joel a look for far longer than necessary and then finally got up.

"alright" she nodded "I'm gonna go next door then, but if you need anything just yell," she said, starting down the doorway, but not before stopping at Joel's side "And you... I'm not talking to you anymore" she decided, getting out and closing the door behind her.

The silence that filled the room was louder than any sound you'd ever heard, except the one of your pounding heart of course.

You stood up, walking to the other side of the couch so you were facing him but you were still carefully distant.

"What is going on?" Joel finally spoke

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that you needed to keep your cool because you're sure as hell not wasting any voice or tears over this asshole

"Joel I know you're cheating on me, or at least have cheated"

"What?"

"When I was getting Ellie home from school we saw you in front of the pub"

You watched as realization crammed his face.

"y/n that was not what you think"

"I'm sure it wasn't Joel" you rolled your eyes "Listen I don't care for any lame excuse or apology, I just need to know one thing... why?" you said "You at least owe me that. Everything was good wasn't it? What was it that made you feel the need to go and fuck some other woman?" for all your promises your voice was getting louder.

"I didn't- y/n I've never cheated on you"

"stop lying!" you burst "Be an adult and fucking own up to what you've done!" 

"y/n" he stepped closer to you and you took a step back.

"stop" You put a hand in front of you, signaling for him to not take another step "Answer my question"

Now he took a breath. And god if you didn't want to punch him.

You're frustrated? You're mad? How do you think I feel?

"y/n" he spoke again, his tone more even, "I swear to god sweetheart I have not cheated on you. The woman you saw me with is Jessie, She's just Tommy's friend. Nothing happened, Of course, nothing happened baby, I love you, you know that. I would never hurt you”

“Oh please, so you're telling me all of Tommy's friends get their mouths that close to yours?"

His lips gaped open, as he struggled to find the right words.

"Alright," he breathed, convincing you you were about to get a confession.

A mix of nausea and homicidal rage electrified your body.

"She is... well, she had been- flirting with me," he said "But I've never led her on, sweetheart, I would never do that, I don't have eyes for anyone but you" he sighed, and his deep brown eyes were pained "Listen," he took a step, and this time, for some unknown reason, your feet wouldn't budge, "My brother called me about an emergency and I rushed there to help"

"an emergency at the pub?"

"just-" There was anxiety and sadness creeping up his voice "Please let me finish, I swear it's not what you think baby"

"fine" you nodded

"I helped him out and he invited me for a drink over at the pub and I accepted. We talked for a while and then when I was about to go, Jessie showed up, and she was trying to get me to go to her house, to which I said no and headed out, but she kept following me until we were outside, and that's when she cornered me and I decided it was time to stop being nice and tell her I don't want anything to do with her"

Silence fell again.

"I can call Tommy if you want, he saw all of this"

"Like he wouldn't lie for you" you commented

"You're right, but you also know how strict he is about these things"

that's true, you had to admit.

"Please sweetheart" he begged, his hand trying to grasp at yours "Y/n I love you, I love you more than anything, I'd give my life for you, I'd do anything for you" he promised "I know it's hard to believe me but I swear to anything and anyone you want that I'm telling the truth. we can even ask Jessie if you want, just please- I need you to believe me" If he sounded desperate it's because he was.

"If that's true why didn't you push her away?"

"I-" he stuttered "I didn't because I didn't want to cause a scene, I just wanted to talk like a civilized person, like you always say I should do more"

You bit your lip, trying to make some sense of the mess in your brain.

"Joel" you huffed "Are you being honest? Because I'm giving you a chance to come clean now and if I were you I'd take it"

"I am" he answered within a second "I am sweetheart, I'd never cheat on you, you're the love of my life for god's sake," he said, his hand finally grasping yours.

You looked up at him, and a dark pang of surprise came over you as you noticed the glinting glaze on his eyes matching yours.

"please" he murmured "I can't lose you y/n, not over something like this. I understand how you could have misread things, I do, but I promise that's not what happened." he breathed "I'm yours y/n, I only want to be yours" 

Your eyes fell to where your fingers intertwined, all the memories rushing back like a raging river.

"You promise?"

"I promise," he said, and you believed him. because this was Joel Miller we were talking about, the man that you had fallen for since he first saved you, and kept falling for each time he saved you again. He was a good man, no, not the traditional definition of that term, but to you, he was a good man, the best man.

"alright" you decided "Seems like I'm gonna have to have a talk with Jessie"

"And I with Ellie" A small grin tugged at his lips

"Oh she's pissed alright" you chuckled "I don't know if I'd do that if I were you"

[bluegekk0]

I feel like people can't tell a difference between someone saying "Silksong needs to come out faster" and "the silence from TC is frustrating", if you voice an issue with the situation everyone assumes you mean the first.

No, I don't care if the game takes a long time to develop. I don't want it to be rushed, they should take as much time as they need. My issue is that the communication from TC is non-existent. We don't know ANYTHING about the state the game is in, the last post on their socials was a merch reveal from 2023. They said they would update their blog, the same blog that's been dead since 2019. People PAID EXTRA during the kickstarter for the DLC that became Silksong, the least TC can do is post an update every now and then to show those people they didn't get scammed. Do I think it was a scam? Fuck no. But I wouldn't blame those backers if they started having doubts.

If the game takes 5 more years to come out, I'm perfectly fine with that. Like, seriously. They can take however long they need, I understand that. But the least they can do is communicate like they said they would. I'm sure it would also make the noise surrounding the game a lot less toxic if people had any idea about, well, anything. Just anything, literally anything. I know it's just 3 people, but a tweet once in a while wouldn't hurt, right? Not even asking for devlogs, just anything.

Of course, there's no excuse for people being actually shitty towards them. Some people go too far, fuck those people. You can have issues with what's happening and not be a jerk about it. But I also don't think it's fair to completely reject any criticism just because it's 3 people working on the game. They're doing great with the game, I'm sure of that. But unlike the first time, they have a large fanbase now, so I don't think the same radio silence from the past really works here. People want to know more about the game that's been in development for half a decade, I think that's understandable? Do they owe it to us? Well, I'd say they owe it to the backers, at the very least, since they already gave TC money for it.

[karlachismylife]

And We Just Disagree

CW: gn!reader, hurt/comfort, mentions of arguments (no actual fighting written), reader is having bad feelings, but it's a good ending, smoking.

(Title from "We Just Disagree" by Dave Mason)

Having arguments is always hard. No matter the point of disagreement, no matter how big or small, loud or quiet, they always leave you miserable whenever you fail to find a compromise or convince someone to accept your point of view. Every fight strips all your defences clean off, right to the bare, hurting periosteum, scraped with the harsh blade of someone's animosity.

You'd rather never argue at all, but there are times where you can't just accept whatever you're given. You're not afraid to stand your ground.

But God, it never gets less exhausting. Especially with Simon.

You don't fight often, and whenever you do, you find a solution sooner or later. After sliding through the loops of the barbed wire he surrounded his six-layer walls, you found that he wasn't as bad with disagreements as one could think. He never yells, never lets offensive words spill from his lips - whenever he says something harsh, he's just beng honest. Maybe you'd preferred a little more sugarcoating, but you didn't choose this man for being easy to deal with.

Maybe that's why having actual fights with him hurts so fucking much. Because you want to be as gentle and accepting with him as possible and you know the wish is mutual, but sometimes you just bloody can't.

That's when you find yourself feeling vulnerable and unsafe in your own apartment. As if every time you lose Simon's unconditional support for whatever reason, you lose your home entirely. He stops whatever discussion you were having, pinches nis nosebridge, blond eyebrows painfully furrowed, and throws a gruff "I need a smoke" your way before slipping away to the balcony.

Outside the apartment door to smoke at the communal staircase, if he needs more time.

Going out for a whole circle around the apartment building - once, when you honestly thought you might break up over the issue.

Today is a balcony day. It's a slight consolation, but it fails to reach you as you curl up in a ball of gloom and misery on the living room couch - the balcony is in the bedroom - and feel your fingers get cold and unpleasant nausea rising somewhat up to your solar plexus. Not all the way to the throat, but it isn't any less irritating; your body knows something wrong and tries to tell you.

Stupid body that doesn't understand it's not an issue you can just resolve by puking a poisonous fruit out or cuddling up to the members of your pack for warmth. A genius and yet such a useless evolutionary mechanism.

The balcony door closes with an echo that makes you uncomfortable. Simon walks silently, a literal Ghost no matter the size, every creaking floorboard memorized without even trying, but you notice his shadow in the corner of your eye and feel the couch dip heavily underneath his mass.

He brought cigarette smell - a tangy clove aftertaste of an expensive, fashionably black cancer stick - and outside's coolness to the living room. It's the only familiar thing about a man that feels no closer than a stranger in your depressed post-fight misery pit.

"Lookin' good, love." His voice startles you, not because you weren't expecting to hear him speak, but because it sounds exactly like that - like a stranger just coming up to have a chat and hopefully learn your name, phone number and relationship status.

"You're not so bad yourself, I suppose." Your answer is a bit distant, but you accept the game. If it's strangers he wants to play, you'll be a stranger. No one said you have to be a convincing one. "I like you."

"I like your eyes," Simon retorts immediately, a small movement indicating he's turned his body towards you in an invitation. "Even when they're sad."

A tired sigh. You're tired. Your eyes are tired. Your body and mind are tired.

"I don't want to be sad. Not when I'm with you."

"I want to make you happy, then, love." He's being sincere. Just a lad offering something so simple and yet dsirable to someone he took a shine to.

Can he make you happy right now?

"I want to kiss you." It's not the solution to all problems, you know that, and yet you out your wish since it'll probably make the pathetic feeling of your own smallness go away.

"I want to kiss you too."

You finally turn to him, offering him to drown in your upset eyes, and Simon meets your gaze with the same solemn expression, a sad frown on his face right up until his big hand - smells uniquely like a hand of a man who just had a smoke - cups your face and pulls you in for a short, soft, shallow kiss.

Your stranger's kiss.

"Let's talk about it again, lovie," he whispers, resting his forehead against yours and brushing his thumb along your jawline reverently. "'M not gonna talk until ya say everything ya want, a'right? Will listen. We can resolve this, I know we can."

He's right. And he's there for you, so you can be there for him too. You clutch his loose T-shirt right under his collar and sigh, looking down as you feel warmth seeping back into your body reluctantly.

"Wanna kiss a few more. Then talk."

This is definitely not something Simon will ever argue against.

[just-french-me-up]

For the kiss prompts, Dreamling and joy, happiness, or adrenaline?

@just-j-really said : I meant joy, /habit/ or adrenaline lol. Should've just used the numbers.

How about I give you joy AND adrenaline? I can't get Olympics AUs out of my skull so here it comes! This is 100% inspired by Manon Apithy-Brunet's victory and what came afterwards! Also Death is called Thana in this, cause I couldn't have her go around named Death, so Thana, because Thanatos and all that

"And we're back with James Anderson at the Grand Palais, where the men's foil final is about to begin."

"Indeed, Anne. Team GB's chance to snatch the first gold medal of its history in men's foil fencing! The stakes are high at the Grand Palais tonight, but Team GB can count on Morpheus Endless after the stellar performances he gave us earlier today."

"It's going to be one for the ages!"

"It sure is!"

**

11-13

Hob had lost any semblance of control over his nerves ten touches ago, his legs bouncing up and down relentlessly while his eyes burnt holes into the piste below. Two touches. Two touches to strike gold. He could do it. He was so close.

The South Korean fencer on the other side of the piste wouldn't go without a fight, though. Morpheus was faster, but his opponent was taller, more imposing, covering more ground. Every touch scored was given right back, filling the Grand Palais with the deafening roar of the audience. It is too loud, Hob kept telling himself. He hates it when it's loud. It was everything, the lights, the sounds, the screams... God the overstimulation going on under that mask, he could not even fathom.

Morpheus lunged forward, aiming at the South Korean's flank. Hob felt his breath catch in his throat.

12-13

The room exploded again, members of the audience standing up, waving flags and signs. Hob buried his head in his head.

"God, I can't even watch."

"He's going to be alright," Thana told him, her hand braced against his knee.

Before Hob could look up, cheers erupted again, louder still. Thana's fingers tensed around his knee.

"Fuck! Who scored?"

"He's almost there! He's going to make it! Hob, he's going to make it!"

12-14

One more. One more to the title of Olympic fucking Champion. Hob hadn't even noticed he'd stood from his seat, his heart beating in his ears. He could not even hear the crowd. All he could focus on were the lights. Red or green. Red. It had to be red. Please let it be red. The South Korean came at Morpheus, lunging forward. Morpheus parried, lunged, fleche at the ready.

The red light blinked, sending the Grand Palais into a frenzy. It happened all so quickly, Morpheus yanking off his mask, his face glowing both with pride and relief, erupting in a disbelieving chuckle as the audience chanted his name, Thana's arms squeezing Hob tight, her voice saying words he could not make out under the uproar surrounding them. He did it! He fucking did it!

He didn't know at what point his entire body had decided to move, but Hob found himself rushing down the stairs leading to the pistes. Security met him at the bottom, preventing him from going any further.

"I'm his husband!" he kept saying, oblivious to the fact he and the man standing in his way probably didn't speak the same language. "I'm his husband! I'm―"

In a desperate attempt at communication, he waved his athlete badge under the man's nose. That seemed to do the trick, as the security guard stepped aside, leaving Hob free range to run up to the piste.

His chest could have burst from pride seeing Morpheus there, victorious, facing the crowd, sweat dripping from his brow, years of effort and sacrifice leading him to that very moment. Morpheus Endless, gold medalist, Olympic Champion.

As their eyes met, something in Morpheus seemed to give, all the pressure escaping his body as he fell to his knees, letting go of his foil to wrap his arms around Hob, the strength in them gone as the crowd and cameras, everything other than them, vanished.

"You did it," Hob took his face in his hands, ecstatic. "You did it, duck! You did it!"

Morpheus could barely speak, going from uncontrollable laughter to choked sobs. He pressed his forehead to Hob's before kissing him hard, salt, exhaustion and gold in his tongue. Hob leant into him, his hand combing the back of his hair, bringing them closer. The cameras probably got an eyeful, but who cared. Gold medalist was a once every four years kind of title.

And he couldn't wait for Morpheus to kiss him in front of the whole world again in 2028.

Send me a kissing prompt?

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2023: 4-Orange (SUB)

Damian sighed as his brothers argued. They all wanted him to socialize more and were trying to figure out the best way to do it.

"Just go up and talk to someone." Jason declared.

"It's not that simple or he would have done it already." Tim stated.

"Tell someone a pun." Dick smiled, "It always works."

"No it doesn't." Jason argued.

Unbeknownst to their younger brother, the all had different goals in mind for him. Yes, the wanted him to socialize more, but for different reasons. The eldest wanted him to simply make a friend. Jason thought it was better if he landed someone's number so that he could communicate through text. It seemed the simplest option. He wouldn't even have to talk in person. Tim was hoping he'd get a girlfriend and would stay out of the manor more.

Damian sighed as he walked up to a girl with sketchbook open at the outdoor café. She seemed really into what she was drawing. She hadn't even noticed him. He quickly cleared his throat. When she looked up, he saw the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen and he was surrounded by blue eyes at home.

"Orange you glad you met me?" he quickly spoke, holding up a cup of orange juice.

The girl remained silent and looked at him confused. Embarassed, Damian pulled out the earpiece his brothers had given him and slammed it on the table.

'Idiots!'

Marinette looked at the earpiece and smiled softly.

"I'm assuming someone was telling you to say that." She spoke.

Damian froze and looked at the girl across from him.

"Yes." he whispered.

"Oh, thank kwami." She sighed in relief.

Damian looked at her in shock.

"If you were serious, I would have told you to fuck off." the girl giggled.

Damian smirked, "Is it okay if I sit here?"

She nodded.

"My brothers are attempting to get me to socialize more." he explained.

"Well, you're off to a good start." she stated, "Puns aside."

"I take it you don't like puns." Damian commented.

She rolled her eyes, "I've heard enough to last me a lifetime."

"Ex boyfriend?" he questioned.

"Flirty guy who wants to date me and thinks flirting with puns is ideal." she commented.

"You've met my older brother?" Damian asked, shocked.

She giggled and questioned, "Is your older brother blonde?"

"No." Damian answered.

"Then there's two idiots like that." she replied.

Damian sighed and rubbed his forehead, making her laugh.

"My father does it as well." she continued.

"My apologies." he spoke.

"Marinette." the girl smiled.

"My apologies, Marinette." he declared, "I'm Damian."

His brothers watched in shock as he took a seat a the table.

"I told you a pun would work!" Dick exclaimed, "Puns always work!"

"Then, why did he take out the earpiece, Nitwit?" Jason asked.

They put their binoculars up and saw their youngest brother smile.

"He better make her a friend, at least!" Jason snarled.

"Why?" Tim questioned.

Jason snickered, "She made him smile."

'Don't fuck this up, Damian!'

The Wayne boys were eager to know what happened once Damian got home. Dick just smiled in anticipation of a thank you. The moment Damian walked through the door, they were by his side.

"So, how did it go?" Dick smiled.

"Did you make a friend?" Tim asked.

"Please, tell me you at least got a name!" Jason shouted.

"It was alright." Damian commented, "I can't say we are friends, but I did learn her name."

"Yes!" Jason cried, "Baby steps!"

Dick smiled joyfully, "See, I told you puns always work."

"They don't." Damian stated, "She was about to tell me to fuck off."

Dick stared at him in shock as the other two laughed.

"You thought you were so cool." Tim laughed.

"She also stated that some blonde continuously flirts with her with puns." Damian announced, "She tells him to leave her alone constantly. Her father uses wordplay as a form of laughter as well, but she only accepts his commentary."

Dick sighed as Damian walked away, leaving the other two to playfully comfort and tease him. Damian walked into his room and locked the door. He pulled out his phone and looked at the new number in his phone.

'Marinette. She's not a friend, yet, but it was nice to talk to her about art.'

TAGLIST: @maribat-calendar-events @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @missmadwoman @meira-3919  @princessdaisysolosyourfaves @blep-23 @fangirlingfanatic @darkhinauniverse @ravenr22 @im-a-satanic-ritual @ravennm84  @bianca-hooks123 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @starling218

[wonwoonlight]

dear autumn / jeon wonwoo

➝ Wonwoo x Reader (ft. Joshua, Seungcheol, Mingyu, etc.)

➝ nonidol!au // angst???? // romance // fluff?????? // drama...ish??? // soulmate!au // somewhat past life!au

➝ word count: 18k (lol🧍��‍♀️) // playlist🎶

➝warnings: curses, lots of pov changes i'm sorry lol, i'm honestly not sure if the pace is a abrupt or not?, i'm not sure how you'll like this OC, she cries quite a lot towards the end sddfgd, that's about it i think

➝A/N: happy birthday, wonwoo❤ shoutout to @ahundredtimesover who's not even a carat but readily brainstormed with me when i asked🥺😭 also special thanks to @sleeplessdawn @twogyuu @savventeen for sparing your time to talk with me when i was unsure where to go with the plot💕💕 i'm gonna talk more on the author notes at the end instead of here. enjoy! hope you'll like this and don't hesitate to drop by and tell me what you think abt it even if you... don't like it sdjhfbsjhdf

In a world where everyone bears the soulmate mark to find the one heaven perfectly made for them, Wonwoo is an outlier with no marks in sight. But he has more pressing matters to attend to because he remembers his past life and the promise he made to his soulmate that he’d find her again no matter what. Alternatively, He didn’t think he’d be reborn in a world where you are made for someone else.

Wonwoo isn’t sure when it began. But he’s eighteen when he knows why they appeared and realizes that the memories in his head do not belong to his current lifetime.

They come to him through his dreams; sometimes long, sometimes short. At first, he thinks his mind is just playing games with him, but when he wakes up with an almost perfect recollection of whatever his older self in the dream did, he eventually realizes they aren’t simply dreams.

They’re his memories from another lifetime. Which one, he’s not sure. Wonwoo imagines they’re pieces of a puzzle–a very big one–making a bigger picture he doesn’t really understand at first until he does. Until it clicks one day why the dream has been getting longer and why he’s getting them in the first place.

He’s not himself when the dream happens, more like a shadow that watches from the sideline. He’s been seeing this older self of his for quite some time; he can’t be much older than he is now, probably in his mid twenties or so. 

It was weird at the beginning, knowing how he’d look (looked?) in the future (...in the past? Fuck, this is confusing), but it was even weirder to watch himself with a girl that he seemed to be so very much in love with. Not that he can’t blame his other self. They’re soulmates, after all, if the identical marks on their wrists mean anything.

The word doesn’t even sound bitter in his lips anymore, and he wonders if it ever was.

Sure, he used to question why he’s an outlier and why he deserved to have no one when everyone else around him has someone predestined for them–someone that the universe deems just right and someone that will complement them in ways unimaginable.

He’s never angry though. Just a little lonely.

It’s not easy to be surrounded by people who are happy with their fate, who have someone that they know is their person for as long as eternity allows them to live. People are subtle with their pity when it comes to him and Wonwoo would like to think it probably has to do with the fact that Wonwoo doesn’t seem bothered at all.

Outliers aren’t that rare; perhaps one every one hundred people or so, and they’re not ostracized from society, just that they need to handle the pitiful looks every now and then–which never stops being annoying.

Wonwoo knows there’s a community for people like him though he has never been one to seek companies. He’s fine the way he is. He’d attend their gatherings when it’s one of the rare days he feels like being social, but he doesn’t attend enough to feel any kind of kinship towards them. They’re just some people who he somewhat sympathizes with.

Naturally, it means the community becomes a place where people try to find their romantic partner. After all, it is frowned upon if you try to date someone with a soulmate even if they haven’t met their other half.

…Which makes it awkward when they break up because even if the community isn’t very small, they’re still a minority and they need to stick together.

Hence, Wonwoo never really bothers.

It’s not like he’s into the concept of romance. When he was a kid, it simply didn’t appeal to him. During high school, games were more worthy of his time than anything. And during university… How could he when he’s been dreaming of the same girl over and over again? Any other romance potential simply didn’t register in his mind. His parents, who obviously had no idea about the dreams, tried to talk to him about it; to try dating and find love but quickly changed their insistence once they realized their son wasn’t too bothered himself. 

He doesn’t even know if she’s alive in this lifetime, and yet…

“You’re really moving, huh?” Seungcheol brings him out of his mind, reminds him that he’s packing and he needs to get things done.

“They knew I’d be the one most willing to move away.” He shrugs. “Everyone else has their significant other here. Pretty sure they asked Namjoon first but with his pregnant wife and all–yeah.”

“I’m sure you’re still a choice because you’re competent.” The older guy reassures him. “What do you need me to do to help?”

“Help me throw away those bags in the living room, please.”

“Got it.”

Five minutes later, Seungcheol pops back into his bedroom.

“Are you throwing this away too?”

Wonwoo looks at the postcard in his hands, a look of recognition passes through his face before he takes it from him before he says he’s keeping it. The older guy throws him a curious look, but Wonwoo doesn’t offer any explanation so he leaves him be and returns to the living room.

“Autumn, huh.” He mutters to himself as he stares at the rows of yellow trees and ginkgo leaves adorning the ground on the postcard.

Autumn in the city is beautiful, Wonwoo has heard. He doesn’t know how it would be more beautiful there than here with the buildings and the busy lifestyle, but perhaps he’ll take the time to find out now that he’s moving there.

Maybe he’ll find out once he’s seen it himself.

And maybe…

Maybe he’ll also–

“Should we have some jjajangmyeon for lunch? I’m starving, man. Think I’d be able to eat two servings and an entire plate of dumplings. What about ordering some shrimp also? I think–”

Yeah.

Maybe.

Four months pass by in a blink and July comes around.

The city life is better than Wonwoo expected, but it’s not like he has any particular expectations to begin with. He’s a twenty six years old doing a regular job, living a regular life. He doesn’t have any grand plans in life, doesn’t strive to climb the corporate ladder nor make any difference in the world.

By theory, he should be some kind of a main character: an outlier with no soulmate mark and memories of a past life? Wonwoo would’ve written a book had he possessed any sort of literature gifts. But he can even barely express himself, let alone pour them into writings, so there goes his spotlight. 

Plus, it’s not like he has ever told anyone about the memories. He tries looking things up online, and except for some ridiculous claims that were eventually proved to be false, he barely finds anything about it that would help. And if he could find nothing in the wonderful, vast world that is the internet, he doubts he would find answers in the real world.

So he’s just another guy. Another Jeon Wonwoo in the sea of people that would pass by people’s lives and lots would forget about.

And he doesn’t mind.

He really doesn’t.

But if there’s anything he could wish for…

He looks down at the small birthday cake his brother has ordered from the delivery app for him on behalf of his parents, the package greeting him in front of his door when he has just gotten back from work. He doesn’t really celebrate his birthdays, and usually only does so if the people around him encourage him to, namely Seungcheol and his family.

Though, now that he’s actually by himself in a city he’s still trying to get familiar with, it does feel a little lonely to be celebrating it alone, if you can even call it that. At least there’s a cake from his family and he might as well keep up with the tradition.

He lights up the ‘27’ candle and stares at it for a few seconds before he closes his eyes and makes a wish. A familiar smile he’s only seen in his dreams flashes through his mind, the warmth of the small fire blankets his face for a few seconds before it goes out.

I hope I can find you… whoever you are.

He dreams of another memory that night.

But, for the first time, he’s not watching from the sideline. The love of his life is pressed to his side as she urges him to blow the candle and make a wish. She takes his face while hers scrunch up into a smile, wishing him ‘happy birthday’ that he doesn’t think is the first that day before leaning in to kiss him on the lips.

He catches a glimpse of the single ginkgo leaf on her right wrist, the same exact thing on his left.

Wonwoo wakes up with a jolt before he could taste her lips against his, a thunderstorm outside his window and another inside his heart.

Despite being born in the season, Wonwoo isn’t fond of summer.

It’s too hot and there’s almost nothing he can do about it. He would’ve stayed inside 24/7 if he could, but that’s out of the question because he needs to go to the office and the amount of people in the public transportation is not something he looks forward to.

He doesn’t like winter for basically the same reason: it’s too fucking cold.

Spring and autumn are nice. But Wonwoo has a pollen allergy so he can’t enjoy the blooming season even if he wants to.

So if someone asks what his favorite season is, he always says autumn.

Wonwoo isn’t sentimental enough to actually have opinions about seasons. Like he said, he doesn’t like summer and winter because they’re extremely hot and cold respectively. He doesn’t mind spring but he has pollen allergies. And so he’s left with autumn.

It’s all just practical.

But, if there’s one season that actually means something… it’d also be autumn. And it doesn’t even have much to do with the actual season. It’s the memories it carries.

Yeah, that’s what he’ll call it.

Memories.

Because no matter what–

“Get going, will you?” Someone grumbles and goes past him.

Right, another reason why he hates summer. People get (rightfully) annoyed all the time and everyone wants to hang out near the Han river, him being one of them.

What can he do? He was already outside due to prior meetings, it’s hot, and being near the body of water sounds like a good idea if there’s any. He just happens to be in the area and he supposes why not. It’s been quite some time since he’s spent some time outside by himself, anyway.

At least he’s by himself so it’ll be much easier to find a seat. –Or so he assumes as he sighs,  still trying to look for an empty spot to sit down ten minutes later. He doesn’t find any, if only because the only one-person spots available are surrounded by couples making googly eyes at each other.

Eventually, he finds one a little further away and settles there with his plastic bag filled with a canned highball and a bag of chips. It’s only somewhere after two in the afternoon, a weird time to be drinking alcohol, but he sighs blissfully at the first sip and stares mindlessly at the people around him.

He likes people watching, though he doesn’t make any grand scenarios about them in his head; simply thinks about how he’s only one of many in the sea of people. That he can be special but he chooses not to be. On the contrary, he likes to pretend that he’s normal; that he has a mark somewhere hidden on his body and he just simply hasn’t met his soulmate. That his dreams are simply dreams.

Or maybe they are nothing but dreams.

Maybe he’s simply thinking too much about them.

Maybe he’s just projecting the ideal life he’d have had he not been an outlier.

He blinks.

Why… had he not considered that before?

Sure, he feels too strongly about them (and Wonwoo isn’t even an emotional person) and is way too conscious because they feel real, but what if his head really is just messing with him? What if they really are just illusions and–

“Hey, sorry, do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full and you’re the only one by yourself so…”

Wonwoo looks up at the weirdly familiar voice, freezing when he recognizes the person in front of him at once, the word coming out of his mouth before he even can stop himself.

“Autumn?”

Surprise colors your face at the name, your head empty because you honestly have no idea what to think. You don’t even have it in you to be suspecting, just very fascinated and somewhat nostalgic in the matter of seconds.

It’s been some time since someone calls you ‘Autumn’; the nickname that your late grandfather would always call you by because he said it’s his favorite season and you’re his sweetest grandchild. A few of your relatives adopted the name even though they outgrew it almost immediately after your grandfather passed. You’ve never told anyone outside the family about the nickname, not even your closest friends, as you’d like to keep it dear to your heart.

And it still stings to think about it after his passing ten years ago.

Several seconds–minutes?–pass like that, with you and this stranger looking at each other, mouth a little ajar, unsure what to say. But he breaks the silence first, shakes his head before he apologizes.

“Uh, sorry. You just–umm, uh, look like someone I know. You can sit down, sure.”

You nod and whisper a ‘thanks’, holding back the urge to ask him about his friend who apparently looks like you and shares your old nickname. But the silence that looms over you both is a little suffocating, and your usual extroverted self who never hesitates to talk to new people seems to die in front of him as you ponder if it’s okay to start a conversation with this handsome stranger.

Perhaps it’s just the weird interaction earlier, you think to yourself, the memory of your grandfather and your favorite nickname that no one except your family knows filling your chest with warmth. The last time you heard someone referred to you by that name was probably a decade ago, and to be referred to ‘Autumn’ again after so long… you wonder if you should’ve told someone about it if it inflicts this much fondness within you.

Or maybe it wouldn’t be so special if you had.

“So you have a friend who looks like me and is called ‘Autumn’, huh?” You try to maintain a confident smile, pray that you’re simply imagining the slight shake in your voice.

The stranger flinches a little, a gesture that you’re not sure what to make of, but then he nods and offers you an awkward smile. “Yeah, something like that.”

“You know, it used to be some sort of my nickname as a kid.” You’re not sure why you’re telling him this, but you are and it’s almost comical the way his lips open a little in surprise before he mutters a small ‘I see’. You offer your name to him, and thank him once again for letting you share his spot.

“Don’t mind it.” He smiles tightly before returning the gesture, and you can’t help but wonder why the name Jeon Wonwoo rings something in your head even though you’re sure you haven’t met this guy. You’re pretty good when it comes to remembering names and faces. You’ve never had any friends called Wonwoo, though you recall there were probably some people from your year in school and university who share his name. 

Never a Jeon though. And he doesn’t look familiar at all, so you’re sure he’s not a friend of a friend that you might’ve seen in passing either, but… why does he feel familiar?

You shake your head before you let go of the thought, and then rummages through your bag to look for your drink. You take everything out of the way only to find your bottle lying sadly at the very bottom of your tote bag, when you look up again, you see Wonwoo glancing at the book you’ve put on the table.

On Soulmates: Love without Commitment

Xu Minghao

You hope the way you put everything back to your bag is subtle, like you’re not trying to hide the book you’ve been reading and the glimpse into your mind that people can easily decipher from your choice of literature alone. His face doesn’t tell you anything though, and it’s his next question that gets your heart beating in irregular beats.

“It’s quite the book, isn’t it?” He takes a sip from his can. “Gave me insights that I didn’t know I needed.”

“Right!” You reply with exaggerated enthusiasm. But can anyone blame you? Anyone who catches you reading that book always gives you the side eye, some people who are frontal even asked why you’re reading something that sounds as stupid as a flat earth. “I haven’t finished, but it’s so interesting to read why the author thinks soulmates aren’t it because it doesn’t give you a choice and everything about the relationship is a given. That perhaps the love that people who don’t have the soulmate marks might be purer because they choose to love and they put effort into it. I’m currently on chapter 7 and–”

You stop when you realize you’re rambling, words of apology on the top of your tongue when you see Wonwoo tilting his head in question. Not in judgement because you’re enthusiastic about it. Not in annoyance because you talk too much when it hasn’t even been twenty minutes since you’ve met him.

“Why are you stopping?” He asks, further making you speechless with the genuine interest in his voice. “Chapter 7 is about fate and destiny, isn’t it?”

You cough a little to hide your flustered face, a little too excited to finally find someone that isn’t against you reading this essay. You’ve been wanting to talk about it with someone–anyone–, all those hours you’ve spent on countless communities online with people who share the same sentiment as you not being enough.

“Yeah. I’m almost done with the chapter, though I haven’t been able to pick it up again these days.”

Wonwoo hums, seemingly deep in thought before he asks you again. “What do you think about it?”

“Fate and destiny?”

“Yeah.”

“I think it’s bullshit.”

He looks at you in surprise; whether it’s because of your choice of words or because of your opinion, you don’t know. But he doesn’t look like he’s going to jump at you for having such an opinion, so you continue even though he didn't ask you to.

“I’d hate to think that someone–something out there has enough power to decide what’s going to happen to us moving forward. That everything we do is predestined and that we have no choice whatsoever in life because it’s fated to be and it’s thanks to the universe that something happens a certain way.” And then you add, your voice comparably smaller as you suddenly realize you’re being too open with this stranger. “It feels… confining…”

He nods as he opens his bag of chips, putting it right in the middle as if telling you it’s okay to take some.

“I agree.” He doesn’t meet your eyes as he says this, looking straight over the Han river like he’ll find an actual answer there. “If it’s true, it’s very cruel for some people to know that their life is fated to be miserable and can do nothing but accept it.”

“Right? And, personally, I don’t know how I feel about the soulmates concept. You know how in the book it says that soulmates might take each other for granted because they’re meant to be together? Or that they simply accept the other person because, apparently, they’re their person? What if the universe messed up and you’re paired with a serial killer or something?”

Wonwoo looks at you alarmed, and you laugh before you say that you’re just speaking in general. He hesitates before he asks, unsure about where you actually are when it comes to soulmates. Are you this opinionated because you don’t have a soulmate? His heart skips a beat at the thought of it; or perhaps you simply hate the idea of it regardless. But before he can actually ask the question, his eyes fall to the side of your neck, and he notices the strings of flowers on the side of your neck, something that you also notice–so you clear your throat to dart his attention away.

“You feel… strongly about it, don’t you?” Wonwoo settles it at that, not wanting to offend you somehow. He doesn’t deny the mixed feeling in his heart as he realizes what it means. You have a soulmate. Even though there’s a chance that you don’t want them, you still have a soulmate and whatever feeling that’s brewing on the pit of his stomach, it’s not a good one.

What was he expecting, anyway? That if somehow he found you in this lifetime–which he did, what the fuck. It’s you who found him, even–you’d happily take him in your arms? The bitter taste on his mouth is getting worse by the seconds, only now realizing that even though he’s been wishing he’d find you, he never has any real plan about what to do if he actually did.

It helps that he doesn’t actually think he would, so he can hold on to it like a dream that would never come true. Something he holds dear in his heart but doesn’t really need to take responsibility for because it’s not going to happen. Something that somewhat keeps him going and some sort of wishful thinking.

You shrug, not offering any explanation.

He doesn’t press.

“I think.” He begins, looking at you this time, and if anyone ever asks, you’re going to deny the way your heartbeat picks up and up and up the more he looks into your eyes, your face getting hot like a high school girl with a crush. “You can always go against your destiny if that’s what you choose to do. If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path? Perhaps it’s just one of many and you can try taking another road to see if you’ll like it more. Even if they exist, it doesn’t mean you have to follow them all the time.”

You lay in bed thinking about his words that night, wondering if it’s as easy as he makes it to be to get away from your path and try a new one.

You dream of Wonwoo, a birthday cake, and a ginkgo leaf mark that you’re sure was not on Wonwoo’s wrist when you saw him earlier that day.

You wake up wishing you’ll meet him again.

Joshua, you’ve always known, is the ideal partner that anyone could ask for. He’s sweet, he takes care of you well, is respectful, and you honestly feel bad for not returning even half of what he feels for you.

You love him, you really do, but you don’t think what you feel for him is strong enough to be considered in the same league with the love that people believe soulmates should have for each other. It’s nowhere near there.

You love him, he’s very important to you, and you’ll drop anything for him if he needs you. But you know something’s wrong when Joshua starts talking about living together, marriage, and family, and dread is the only thing that fills your chest.

You know something’s wrong when you don’t feel the butterfly nor the fireworks that everyone–and you mean everyone–says they experience when they meet their soulmates.

It was nothing like that for you; you knew he’s your soulmate, and if there’s anything right about what people said regarding your first meeting, it’s true that it just clicked that it’s your soulmate in front of you. But your heartbeat picked up for all the wrong reasons that didn’t have anything to do with rush of excitement nor romantic expectation. You were a little anxious, even, but you couldn’t do anything when Joshua immediately recognized the feeling once his eyes met yours and he ran to you like he’d give you the world right that very second.

There was nothing magical about it.

You’re not sure how you feel either about the universe giving you the perfect partner by theory, but also somehow shaping you into a person that believes the whole soulmate thing is bullshit. It doesn’t seem to matter whether Joshua notices your lack of romantic reciprocation or not, because Joshua still treats you like you’re the love of his life and he looks at you like you’re his whole galaxy.

Or perhaps he mistakes the way you care for him as romance?

What a fucking drama you live in.

“What got you thinking?” You blink at his voice, and Joshua looks at you amused as he settles right beside you despite the heaps of empty space on your sofa. “You’ve been zoning out a lot these days.”

“Have I?” You ask, accepting the way his arm automatically goes behind you on top of the sofa head. You like his warmth, you really do. You like–no–you admit that you love a lot of things about Joshua and you’re glad you met him even though you absolutely abhor the soulmate system.

You love his eyes, the way they seem to stare into your soul and are able to tell what’s inside your mind most of the time.

You love his hands, they always know to wrap around yours when you need it most, pull you closer when you stray away because something distracts you along the way.

You love his voice, so calm and soothing that you would ask him to talk you to sleep through the phone on nights sleep refuses to find you, the way he’ll hum when he’s in a good mood though he never actually sings in front of you because he says he can’t carry an actual tune otherwise. (Two years since you’ve found each other and you’re still on a mission to make him sing because you just knew he sings well.)

But, most of all, you love the way he treats you.

The way he’ll ask if he’s not sure what you want him to do, the way he’ll carefully thread through your mood when the day hasn’t been good, and the way he gives you space even if he wants to be near you all the time.

He respects you. Not only as his soulmate but also as a person, and you can’t thank him enough for that.

Perhaps that’s why it hurts much more now; why guilt is eating you inside out because you can only think about Wonwoo and his words when Joshua is right next to you, his thigh pressed against yours and his thumb caressing your shoulder over your shirt.

If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path? 

You force back the tears before they can actually form, gulping before you tell him it’s nothing.

“Should we go out?”

“Where?”

“Hmmm. Namsan? We can take a walk, get you off your mind.” His smile is kind, and you feel like crying again because of how considerate Joshua is. He doesn’t even ask, doesn’t push even once just in case you’ll crack. He simply accepts that you don’t want to talk about it and offers you something that might help.

Why the fuck aren’t you in love with him when he’s your soulmate and he’s as perfect as someone could be?

His arms envelop you and thrust you into his chest before you could break, and you manage to hold it for three full seconds before the tears stubbornly fall and you whimper softly into his hold. Joshua doesn't say anything, doesn’t hush you and asks if you’re okay.

No.

He accepts that you’re not okay and you don’t want to tell him about it. That you’re crying and he feel so fucking useless because he can’t do anything to help you with it.

That you’re hiding something from him that’s possibly making you cry even though you never did before. 

Still, he holds you close and lets you cry.

You grasp the front of his shirt as you try your best to stop your tears. You don’t even know why you’re crying this much, but you suppose between the stressful week and the whole Wonwoo situation, the guilt combined with Joshua’s innocent look trigger something within you.

“I’ll just get you some water.” He whispers against your head once you’ve calmed down, squeezes your shoulder and then lets you go. He’s back not even a minute later, and you thank him as you take your mug, embarrassed when you wipe the remaining of your tears off your face. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You manage to whisper, too embarrassed to even look him in the eyes. 

His smile is meant to be comforting, but thinking yet again about the reason why you even cried to begin with, it only makes your heart squeezes painfully.

“You probably need it. You know I won’t judge.” He caresses your cheek as if to make sure to get rid of all traces of tears there. He searches for your face, as if he can tell what’s inside your mind just by doing so, and for a moment, you’re afraid that he really can; that he’ll see the man that you’ve met once some time last week clouding your mind like there’s no tomorrow.  “Do you want to go for a walk anyway? Perhaps you need to get out of the house for a bit?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” You reach up to circle your fingers around his wrist, smiling back at him because despite everything, you’re still thankful that the universe thinks you’re deserving of someone like him. You’re still thankful that you get to be on the receiving end of his affection.

Joshua leans forward to kiss your forehead, lingering for a good few seconds before he tells you to get ready.

It doesn’t take you too long to get ready, nor does it take long for you two to arrive at Namsan. Climbing the stairs to get to the park, Joshua asks instead if you’re willing to just go further up to get to the peak where the tower is. You’re not exactly dressed for climbing (though it’s really just stairs, stairs, and more stairs), nor are you in the mood for it, but you think exhausting your body is just what you might just need so you can pass out the moment you reach your bed later on.

He extends his hand, and you take it with a smile despite the pinch in your heart. You spend the first ten minutes in silence, hand in hand as you ascend up the seemingly never-ending stairs.

Already out of breath, you begin to doubt your decision of climbing up when Joshua speaks. 

“I haven’t gone here in so long.” Undeniably, it’s a very nice weather out. You being out of breath has more to do with your lack of exercise on a daily basis more than anything, but even in your predicament you can still appreciate the night view around you. As much as you feel like dying right now, you know you don’t actually regret it.

“Yeah? Me too.” You grip his hand tighter for support, then ask if you could rest for a bit when you see a rest stop. Joshua laughs as you ask this, though he nods and hands you a piece of chocolate the moment you both sit down on an empty bench overlooking Seoul from where you’re at.

“You’re a lifesaver.” You moan as you take a bite of the chocolate, leaning your head on his shoulder and stretching your legs. “I haven’t climbed in so long. My legs will fall tomorrow, I’m sure.”

“I’ll run a bath for you before I go home tonight.”

You try to trample the way your heartbeat picks up; not because you’re fluttered, but because you’re once again eaten with guilt by how perfect Joshua really is. He doesn’t exactly know how you feel about soulmates; you’re not cruel enough to say things right to his face. 

But you know for sure that he’s aware of your choice of literature.

He doesn’t comment on them, and you try not to read them when he’s around. But he once caught you reading on your phone over your shoulder and you sheepishly said you simply find those essays interesting.

Joshua isn’t stupid, knows that there’s a reason why you find them interesting, but he chooses to be in ignorant bliss and says you’re free to read whatever you want and there’s no need to justify yourself to him of all people.

Yeah, because it’s totally normal that your soulmate is interested in reading essays on why soulmates are bullshits.

Forty minutes later with some short breaks along the way, you finally reach the top. There aren’t as many people, and you walk around for a bit to let your legs relax before finding yet another bench to sit on.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been here at night.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Sure is different from being here during the day.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Joshua agrees, his palm absentmindedly caresses your thigh as if it helps relieve your sore muscle.

“Should we have some cup ramyeons?” You suggest, pointing to the convenience store you pass by earlier. “I think I can do some if I share with you.”

Joshua nods, but before he can offer to go, you tell him he can rest instead.

“I’ll go get it. Should I buy two or are you fine just sharing one with me?”

“Two is fine.”

“And the usual drink?”

“And the usual drink.” He grins. “You sure you can take everything by yourself?”

You roll your eyes in mock annoyance, exhaling a ‘duh’ as you tell him to just wait.

Pleased that the convenience store isn’t crowded either, you hum as you go through the snack isles instead. Knowing yourself, you’ll probably only eat two thirds of the cup ramyeon and wolf down the snack instead if you buy some; but you don’t see why not because Joshua’s there to finish your food anyway. Plus, it’s a nice night out and that’s enough to justify your choice of dinner.

Juggling two big cups of instant noodles, a packet of cheese, a hotbar, and a bag of shrimp chips isn’t your talent, but you manage and you drop them on the cashier before quickly telling the cashier you’re just going to grab a drink real quick.

Almost bumping into the person behind you, your apology is stuck in your throat once you realize who’s the person exactly.

What the fuck.

“Oh…” Wonwoo says in surprise, the words seemingly out of his mouth before he even realizes. “Hi…?”

You give him an awkward smile and nod before quickly going to the drink aisle. Apologizing once again to the cashier who’s still scanning your purchase (and to Wonwoo) once you return even though it’s barely been five seconds.

“Need help?” Wonwoo says good-naturedly, gesturing to the amount of things you’ve just bought.

“Hey, I–”

Wonwoo looks at you staring between him and the guy who has just entered. Getting the hints immediately that his help isn’t needed, he smiles before paying for his stuff and leaves the convenience store.

He looks spitefully at the night sky, it’s so unnecessarily pretty too, unsure if he wants to curse whatever’s up there that of all days he decides to go outside, he just has to see you again. With another guy at that. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions. The guy could simply be your friend for all he knew.

But if there’s one thing that is Wonwoo, he’s quick to put pieces together. From your panicked glance and the way you tense when you see him, he knows. Perhaps it’s also just intuition. But he just knew that man, whoever he is, is the one that heaven has decided to be the one for you.

He exhales a deep breath before finding a secluded place somewhere behind a tree, carefully hidden to minimize any chance of being seen by you (or seeing you with your soulmate). He would’ve immediately left if he could, but he’s only arrived and it feels like it’s such a waste for him to leave just like that despite the situation.

What even is the situation?

He’s been thinking a lot since he met you, if he wants to seek you out again and what he wants to do if he does. The thought is no longer so much of a wishful thinking like it used to be. He knows you exist now. You’re actually living, you’re real, and you have a soulmate that is not him.

It sounds so much like an exaggeration, but he’s never felt so empty after going home that night, thinking about you and your soulmate. Do you live together? Do you care about him regardless of your stance on the whole soulmate thing? Does he treat you well? Does he get to hold you while you sleep? Does he–Fuck.

Wonwoo hates being like this, and he’d love to say it’s gotten better the more time passes by, but it has only gotten even worse because his dream is getting longer and even more prominent since meeting you. And what he hates most is he’s started to feel more and more strongly about you even through his dreams.

What is one supposed to do when they fall in love with an illusion that has a counterpart living in the realm of reality? He’s pretty sure no one would have the answer.

He glances up at the sound of faint laughter, seemingly so loud in the silent night, or perhaps he simply picks it up because he knows exactly who it belongs to before he even sees you. He bites his lip at the scene he’s witnessing: you, laughing with your soulmate at god knows what.

He can’t blame the guy for looking at you like you hold the universe for him. After all, Wonwoo would probably do exactly the same thing had he been given the chance. His past self from another life could vouch for that.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, he’s not sure, you end up sitting a good distance away from where he’s at, your back facing him as you settle beside the man destined to be with you. You’re not too far that he can’t see your side profile, which gets his heart both squeezing in pain and fluttering at the same time.

He doesn’t even know that was possible.

Wonwoo looks far to the distance, at the endless night sky that’s so unnecessarily full of stars today of all day. He wants to think the universe is mocking him, playing a joke on him for being alone by himself on such a beautiful night, making him watch you laughing with your soulmate as the cherry on top.

But he knows he’s not that special.

He’s just one of many; his misery wouldn’t be all that amusing for the universe.

Scoffing at the thought of the universe, he lowers his eyes from the sky only to accidentally meet yours.

Is this the work of the universe too?

Nah, he shouldn’t give too much credit to the damn thing. But, then again, blaming it for every single thing that went wrong in his life has proved to be some kind of comfort if he’s being completely honest.

You offer him a small smile anyway, not even waiting for him to return the gesture.

It hurts still to see you with your soulmate, sharing food and talking about what he assumes to be nothing and everything. But as he lays in bed that night and thinks about your smile, he admits that if the universe lets him meet you in this lifetime, perhaps it isn’t so bad, after all.

Wonwoo has always liked the number three.

Third’s time the charm and all that jazz. He doesn’t hold on to it religiously, just some fun little routine that he finds amusing. When he takes an item in a grocery store, he takes the third one from the front; when he goes to the convenience store because he needs one (1) thing, he takes two small snacks so it’s three items in total; on the rare days when Wonwoo feels like trying a new drink in a cafe, he’d just choose the third item in the menu.

It’s fun.

Today, Wonwoo’s supposed to meet Mingyu for a little get together. He’s the first friend he’s made in Seoul, a guy that’s a little too flashy for his liking but is still a good person nevertheless and definitely a much better company than most people that he’s made to be acquainted with in the new city. 

He’s not too excited about the invitation, but doesn’t see why he should turn the younger guy down when he has no plan during the weekend, and, as much as he loves staying inside, the four walls of his apartment is starting to feel a little suffocating because it’s almost been a month since that night he randomly went to Namsan and saw you, and… he hasn’t gone out for anything that’s not a necessity since then.

So when Mingyu asks for the third time since they got to know each other if he wants to join him on a night out or not, he decides he should also appreciate the guy’s persistence despite already being turned down twice before.

Anyway.

He was supposed to meet him for a little get together. Apparently, Mingyu’s version of ‘a little get together’ is to invite a group of friends that Wonwoo obviously doesn’t know for dinner and only notifying him of the additional party thirty minutes before their promised time.

He exhales. It’s too late for him to bail. Right now, his hope is only as high as the ground: he simply wishes he wouldn’t return home socially exhausted.

It’s a small pizza diner inside an alleyway where they promised to meet. And Mingyu along with his friends thankfully arrive at the same time as him so Wonwoo wouldn’t need to go inside and look around like a fool, wondering where his table full of strangers and a slightly familiar friend is.

He’s not close enough with Mingyu to say he’s comfortable around him, but he’s still the most familiar face between the four faces in front of him so he decides sitting next to Mingyu is the best choice. Thankfully, the younger guy doesn’t seem to be the type to push him to interact with new people immediately.

Thirty minutes into dinner, Wonwoo can tell Mingyu probably brings these friends around because he thinks Wonwoo needs to meet new people (or maybe he thinks it’ll be awkward if it’s just the two of them?). It’s easy to tell that he’s brought the friendliest people who’s just loud enough, who understand that Wonwoo’s quiet but still able to naturally included him in conversations without making him feel bad about being, well, quiet (god knows how many people have tried to make him feel bad for staying quiet during conversations).

Jungkook is a friend from high school, he’s learned, apparently one of Mingyu’s closest friends. Jeonghan is a senior from his previous company; someone that he didn’t know he’d end up being close with because, at first, Jeonghan was obviously just someone he had to work together with. Jisoo, he finds out later on, is Jungkook’s ex-girlfriend before he found his soulmate, though they treasure their friendship too much to cut each other off.

Except for Jungkook, the other two friends seem a little unconventional and Wonwoo doesn’t understand how Mingyu ends up being close enough with them to go out together like this.

He doesn’t ask.

“We’re planning on bar hopping.” Mingyu tells him, and Wonwoo feels dread fill his chest at what this might imply until Mingyu adds, “You’re free to leave if you don’t want to go with us though! I understand it might not be everyone’s thing.”

Weirdly, Wonwoo now wants to go because he’s been given the freedom of choice. Plus, at least he knows he’d be surrounded by these people and he can go home at any time if he wants to.

“What kind of bar?”

“Definitely not clubs pretending to be a bar.” Mingyu jokes. “Maybe wine or cocktail bars?”

“Sure, I’ll come then.” Wonwoo shrugs, then tells Mingyu he’ll probably return home first if he and his friends are planning to go until morning, to which Mingyu nods and says that it’s no problem at all.

Wonwoo doesn’t really understand the concept of bar hopping. He’s always been curious about it, but never curious enough to actually do it. So he supposes it’s also his curiosity that pushes him to say yes. He kind of wants to see what it’s all about and he doesn’t think he’d have another opportunity where he might remotely enjoy the experience if not now.

The first cocktail bar isn’t that great, if only because the place is small and it feels like everyone can hear what they’re talking about. They each have one drink and immediately leave for the next one. They go to a wine bar, and Wonwoo is pleased to know the alcohol in his system (and the current company, he’s sure) has made him more relaxed than he had been the past week. 

After an hour or so, Mingyu decides he’s had too much energy and asks if it’s okay to move to an open bar that’s not as noisy as a club but is still noisy enough for people to enjoy the music and fill the dancing floor.

Normally, Wonwoo would say no. But he surprisingly still has enough social battery and thinks might as well go all out while he’s at it. It’s not often that he’s in a social mood.

The bar is a little too noisy for Wonwoo’s liking, though the half part of the building has no roof so it’s not too loud nor suffocating. After ordering their drinks, Mingyu and Jungkook head to the dance floor. Jisoo and Jeonghan stay at the table with him; Jisoo says she’s not really in the mood to dance while Jeonghan says his soulmate is picking him up in a bit so he’s just going to stick around til then.

It’s thirty minutes later that he leaves and Wonwoo’s now left alone with Jisoo. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is a little awkward and Jisoo seems to share the sentiment as she tries to find topics to talk about.

They end up talking about literature and movies, and Wonwoo has to lean forward to be able to listen to her clearly over the music until she eventually moves to sit next to him so they can talk easier. He notices Jungkook glancing every now and then, and when Jisoo follows his gaze, she chuckles a little and shakes her head.

“Sorry. It’s just a habit of his, don’t mind him.”

Wonwoo blinks, unsure. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I know a lot of people find his stares uncomfortable.” She shrugs. “He’s just protective of me. It’s nothing, I promise.”

Wonwoo’s not nosy. But between the alcohol in his system, his remote curiosity, and the way Jisoo looks like she wants to talk about it, he kindly throws the bait.

A subtle one, though.

“How did you end up being close with Mingyu?”

“Through Kook, at first.” Mingyu and Jeonghan don’t refer to Jungkook with that name, he notes. And a part of him wonders if it’s a nickname that Jisoo has for him or if it’s just how his girl friends call him. “We dated before. But we broke up because, well, he found his soulmate and… Mingyu was kind enough to keep me company and made sure I was okay after the whole ordeal. I’m not sure why he felt the need to do that, but I’m thankful regardless. So… yeah.”

He bites the question about soulmates. Doesn’t ask why they tried dating each other if they knew they aren’t soulmates, but he does wonder about how she must’ve felt or how she’s feeling right now. He can’t exactly compare his situation with hers, because as much as he’s going through a… heartbreak, it’s somewhat onesided while Jisoo actually had a relationship with Jungkook.

And she still has to be friends with him.

He doesn’t know if it’s the universe or Jungkook that is cruel.

Or perhaps Jisoo is a masochist.

Apparently, she’s also very honest when she’s tipsy.

“I’m an outlier.” She smiles bitterly after downing a shot, then she pulls up the sleeve of her cardigan and shows him what he assumes to be a trace of a soulmate mark; a faint outline of a snowflake that’s barely visible unless you actually take a look at her wrist. “I hav–had a soulmate. They died before I even met them and that’s why the mark… burned.”

Her chuckle is nowhere near amused when Wonwoo’s eyes widen in surprise, and she answers before he even asks as she pulls down the sleeve of her cardigan.

“It literally burned. I was sixteen; and I was out with Jungkook getting ice cream when it started to burn and he had to witness me being all hysterical, crying as I told him my wrist burnt and it felt like it’s going to fall off.” She doesn’t look bitter at all as she talks about this, just very sad and perhaps even a tad bit nostalgic. “He was fourteen. A little shorter than I was at that point, but he tried his best to tug me to a secluded place so people wouldn’t stare despite my struggle because everything hurt and I just felt like crying, hugged me to muffle my scream, and stayed with me for hours after that even though I was just zoning out, not saying anything.”

Wonwoo isn’t sure if it’s a story for him to hear; but Jisoo looks like she needs it (or is it just the alcohol?) and the least he could do is to listen. At least he can rest easy knowing this story wouldn’t be going anywhere else.

“I knew what happened even though I didn’t know by theory. I could feel it; felt the connection that was only faintly there just… gone. Jungkook took me home and told my parents about what happened. Of course they knew what it meant and they thanked him before sending him home. I couldn’t really talk for weeks, the emptiness and the burn were too prominent for me to be doing anything. My parents told the school I was sick so I was dismissed from classes.”

She pauses, and for the first time, Wonwoo can tell exactly what she’s feeling: she’s numb and she’s exhausted. There’s no trace of tears in her eyes. They’re void of anything and Wonwoo suddenly feels an odd sense of affinity the more he listens to her.

“Jungkook… stopped by everyday even though he didn’t know what actually happened. He probably had an idea, but he didn’t press and he talked to me about anything and everything even if I didn’t say anything–said from the beginning that I didn’t need to answer, that he’d do all the talking for me.”

Wonwoo doesn’t need to listen to the rest of the story to know why Jisoo still treasures Jungkook as…, well, whatever she regards him as right now. He doesn’t want her to talk about more sad things like how she ended up dating him and how she broke up with him, so he offers her what he could: honesty and a change of topic.

Even if it’s only a little.

“I’m an outlier also.” He says quietly that Jisoo almost misses it. “Doesn’t have a soulmate but… it’s complicated.”

Thankfully, Jisoo doesn’t pry, simply takes another shot and offers a cheer to him.

“Sucks to be us.” 

It’s weird, but Wonwoo finds himself chuckling before he takes his own drink and clinks his glass to hers and takes a sip of his highball.

“Sucks to be us.”

His mind wanders to you, thinking if he could stand being in Jisoo’s place had it been like that for him. He had only seen you with your soulmate from afar, had only talked to you once, and it hurts anyway.

Why is he cursed with the memories of his previous life, again?

He’s been mentally restless since that night. How could he not when he keeps on seeing you everywhere? His dreams are getting more and more prominent and so are his feelings. He keeps on thinking he sees you somewhere–everywhere–only to realize it’s not you, just ghosts of you haunting him in every person that he sees.

How fucking stupid, falling in love with a series of images and illusions.

Drinking the rest of his drink, he shakes his head and winces at the alcohol and at how his mind is playing tricks once again. Perhaps drinking alcohol hasn’t been the best option if he ends up imagining you even here between the blurry images of people.

Fuck, he’s down bad.

In such perfect timing, Mingyu and Jungkook return to the table, so Wonwoo leaves Jisoo with them and excuses himself to the restroom. He looks at himself in the mirror, and then looks at his phone only to realize it’s already almost one in the morning. Perhaps it’s time he goes home; the talk he’s shared with Jisoo proves to be more mentally exhausting than he thinks it is.

He almost bumps into someone on his way out, hands reaching out to the person in front of him in reflex only to let go just as quick once he sees your face once again. Christ, is he that drunk? He really needs to go home.

That version of you is very pretty too, fuck.

“Uh… Wonwoo?” He’s even imagining your voice now? “Are you… okay?”

He looks up in alarm once he realizes you’re real. It’s actually you in front of him and you’re not a figment of his imagination. He opens his mouth to say something, but someone bumps into you hard and you tumble into his chest.

Wonwoo’s breath is caught in his throat at the turn of events, but his arm catches you anyway and glares at the guy before he looks down and asks if you’re okay. You look as flustered as he’s feeling, and he hopes the loud music is enough to cover the sound of his heartbeat.

“You’re okay?” It’s stupid how disappointment fills his chest the moment you step away, a sense of longing already making its way to his heart.

He needs to get away.

“I—yeah.” You look unsure and Wonwoo doesn’t like how your body screams uneasiness.

“Are you by yourself?”

“No?” Now you sound unsure, and even though Wonwoo is also another stranger in the sea of strangers, he thinks he trusts himself better than any other people here to help you if you don’t want to be here. “Well, I was with my friend but she… yeah.”

You’re biting your lip, as if afraid he’d scold you (Why would he? He’s not your boyfriend (Wait. No. Back pedal, back pedal)). Fuck, fuck, fuck. He swallows hard to calm himself down; this is not the time to imagine what it’d be like to be your boyfriend.

“Come on.” He says as calmly as possible, his fingers balled into a fist to stop himself from taking your hand in his. He considers bringing you to his table, but he doesn’t know how he should introduce you to his party so he quickly texts Mingyu he’s going home because something turns up before he leads you out of the club.

It’s silence filling you two despite the somewhat noisy alley you’re walking through, and you don’t know Wonwoo enough to be able to tell if he’s pissed or what; but he does seem tense and you’re the one uncomfortable with the unnerving silence.

“I’m–I’m sorry.” You try to open a conversation. Wonwoo stops in his tracks and turns to you in confusion. “You were probably there to have fun or something… Sorry I made you get me out of there.”

He shakes his head, and your heart relaxes when he smiles a little. “It’s fine. About time I go back anyway. Do you mind if we stop by a convenience store for a bit?”

It’s then that you realize you’ve been blindly following him. You don’t even know the guy. You’ve met him twice before, and your second meeting barely even lasts five minutes, yet you readily follow him because you know you’ll be more comfortable with him than there–more safe, more… secure.

Fuck, you didn’t even ask him where he’s taking you earlier. It was almost automatic the way you followed his steps. You try to convince yourself that it’s his familiarity that makes you feel safe. Because even if you don’t know him that well, his face is still one imprinted in your head so it’s normal that you’d feel safer than you would with any other person in that club.

Plus, you’ve talked to him once before and he at least passed the vibe check, right?

But as you pile these thoughts in your head, trying to justify the uncalled feeling of security this stranger brings you, deep down you know why exactly your anxiety seeps away at the sight of him earlier, why your shoulders drop down in relief, and why your chest is no longer filled with dread. 

“Here, have this.”

That’s why. You think to yourself.

Wonwoo isn’t smiling at you, but there’s a kind of warmth that he radiates as he hands you a drink and ushers you to sit on the table in front of the convenience store. There’s a certain warmth that reaches you as he sits in front of you and places a hot bun on the table, pushes it towards you without saying anything.

You watch him slot his hands into the pocket of his jackets, and you suddenly wonder if he gets cold easily. It’s not that cold outside, though you suppose it is one in the morning and the wind picks up a little at times like this.

“Thanks.” You mumble as you wrap your fingers around the small bottle of warm honey water. You can’t help but smile at the drink of his choice, a little funny how he didn’t get you a hot chocolate or tea; something most people would usually get. “Can I ask why honey?”

He blinks, as if not getting what you’re talking about until you hold up the glass bottle for him to see.

Wonwoo panics a little. He has bought the drink without thinking, a part of his mind that stores the information about you from his dream making him do so. In fact, it was only yesterday that he dreamt of you drinking one.

The dream is still vivid in his mind. He dreamt of you sleeping, and he assumed he was trying to sleep himself when you jolted awake out of nowhere, eyes frantic and hands flailing around looking for him. He saw himself whispering words of comfort to you, and he saw you burying yourself into him like there’s any space between the two of you before he pulled away and said he’d get you some drink from the kitchen.

You had smiled weakly at the sight of your favorite drink, a warm honey water that always comforted you at nights like this.

“Do you not like it? I can get you something else if you want?”

“No, it’s fine.” You smile, something inside you blooming dangerously at his words and what you may or may not be implying with yours. “Just… I usually drink those too. Some of my friends judge me for that.”

He’s more surprised about the fact that you share this with your past self more than anything, but, still, he asks. “Huh? Why?”

“Just because it’s unusual, I suppose.” Shrugging, you proceed to open the lid and take a sip. “Not a lot of people drink this, you know? Or, at least, they drink it cold. I prefer it warm.”

He wonders if you share anything else with your past self. So far, there’s been two: Autumn and this drink. Would you be suspicious if he threw it out there? Would you freak out?

“Someone I know eats watermelon only if it’s frozen; I’m sure it's just a preference on your part.”

You smile shyly as you answer him, an image that’s forever burned into his mind. “I do that also.”

His mind runs a thousand hundred scenarios of what this could mean, wonders if it’s simply a coincidence or if the universe is on to something.

“Aren’t you special,” he smiles tightly, hoping  that you don’t catch upon his awkwardness.

“Thank you for putting it that way.” The sound of your laughter makes him want to be selfish; to drag out conversations and spend as much time as possible with you even though he knows you have a soulmate. Is it considered cheating like this? Is he immoral for wanting this? “My friends also judge me because I don’t like cheese cake, cheese sauce and anything cheese flavored even though I don’t mind an actual cheese.”

“You… don’t like cheese cake?” Wonwoo blinked, unsure if he heard right. He wasn’t a cheese lover or anything, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone who grimaced at the word ‘cheese cake’.

“They’re too… cheesy.”

“Autumn, it’s called cheese cake for a reason.”

“And the texture… yuck.” You grimaced before telling him to stop talking about it before you lose your appetite.

“Are you judging me too?” Your voice snaps him out of his gaze, and he blinks a few times before he shakes his head no. This can’t be good, fuck. It’s been less than 10 minutes since he’s been talking to you, and yet his heartbeat is out of control and the fact that you share a lot of things with the illusion of yourself that he’s developed an attachment for isn’t good at all. 

He tries his best to remind himself that his feeling isn’t real; that perhaps he’s too blinded by something that he’s been holding on to and he doesn’t know what to do now that it’s somewhat changing. That he’s confused and he shouldn’t do anything that would cause him further confusion.

But with you in front of him, as real as you can be, smiling and launching into a bunch of topics that is actually dear to his heart, he can’t help but indulge his feelings and bask in your presence, in your smile and your voice, in the sound of your laughter and the way you lean forward so you can speak to him better, a habit that he notices the you in his dream also had.

So he lets go.

Whatever consequence that awaits him, he’ll face it when it comes. Right now, he just wants to pretend like you don’t have a soulmate who’s probably waiting for you back home–who may be worried sick because you haven’t looked at your phone even once since the moment he sits down in front of you. 

Wonwoo isn’t usually selfish and he hopes that the universe will let him go this one time for wanting to be–for wanting to keep you to himself even for a limited time. Even if you aren’t aware of it.

This chance might not come again, he tells himself. The chance of talking to you under the stars in front of a random convenience store at ungodly hours, like you’re just two people talking to each other–like soulmates isn’t a thing and he’s free to feel whatever it is he’s feeling.

He wants this, he realizes as his eyes flicker down to your lips for a few seconds, subtle enough for you to miss. He wants a real memory of you. Something real that he can keep to his heart, something that isn’t a part of his dream and a fragment of his memories. And even though he’d go home feeling empty and he’d curse himself tomorrow, it doesn’t matter because what matters now is that you’re here with him and he’s going to take as much as you’re willing to give him.

“I’ve finished reading the book, by the way.” You open another topic. A controversial one, if you may say so yourself, and you know deep down what you’re trying to do by saying this even though you’ll deny it if anyone asks.

“Oh yeah? How do you find it?”

“I think I agree with most of what he said.” You bite your lip, your mind wandering to Joshua for the first time since you saw Wonwoo. “I just… I don’t know. I’m not anti soulmate, I just don’t see why you should succumb to your… instincts? Feelings? And simply accept your soulmate without thinking too much about it.”

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything for a moment and you wonder if he disagrees with you or if he’s simply gathering his thoughts. He seems thoughtful, perhaps trying to find words that won’t offend you before he offers you his opinion.

“Can I ask why you started thinking that way?” he asks instead, and it’s your turn to be silent and arrange your words.

Because you don’t know. 

You can’t tell since when do you feel this strongly about the soulmate situation. You used to be quite indifferent about it, not having any opinion whatsoever though you sure weren’t as excited as the other kids your age when it came to romanticizing anything about soulmates.

Your friends would talk about their dream scenarios of the first meeting with their soulmates, or they would go on and on about looking forward to meeting them.

But you were never that excited.

It was just another thing in your life: like eating ice cream or trying out a new cafe. There’s nothing so special about it.

“I think…” You contemplate, wondering if you want to be that honest with this beautiful, familiar stranger in front of you. “It was when I met my soulmate?”

Wonwoo seems surprised, probably not sure how to interpret your words and you don’t blame him at all.

“Sorry?”

“You know how people say that there are… fireworks? And butterflies? Just those big, grandiose feelings blooming inside your chest at once when you meet your soulmate?” He nods, trying to see where you’re going with this. “Well, I… didn’t feel those when I met mine. Sure, it all made sense and it just kinda… clicked in my head. Like a moment of eureka, if you will. But I wasn’t… excited or anything of the sort. If anything, my heartbeat picked up because I was anxious, already worried about what he might expect of me and all that.”

You refuse to look at Wonwoo. You’re not sure what kind of answer that you expect from him, but he doesn’t seem like he’d judge and, between the ungodly hour and the little alcohol that’s left in your system, it feels relieving to finally be able to say this out loud. 

You’ve never been able to. Not only because people would call you crazy, but because you know no one wouldn’t not judge you for it.

But here in front of Wonwoo… Jeon Wonwoo who you’ve only met for the third time in your life, you feel safe for reasons that you can’t comprehend. 

So you continue. You’ll blame it on the alcohol tomorrow morning, even though you know you’re not intoxicated enough for it to be the case. You’ll justify yourself by saying Wonwoo isn’t a friend and he knows no one in your life–that if this goes south, you technically wouldn’t lose anything.

Yeah.

That’s how you’ll go down this road.

“I mean… I love him, you know?” You would’ve seen Wonwoo’s face drop had you not been busy staring at your nails, still too afraid to look at him despite the resolve you’ve made. “But not… that way.”

“Like… platonic?” Wonwoo offers, careful.

“Yeah…” You bite your lip, trying to stop the tears that suddenly blur your eyes. “Like platonic.”

You hate yourself for the way your heart lightens at your own words. Because even though it’s something that you’ve thought of once before, you bury it so deep somewhere you can’t reach. You never say it out loud to anyone; never admit it to yourself even though you know it’s true.

And to say it like this to another person–out in the open… You hate yourself so fucking much because it’s true and you’re somehow going to hurt Joshua even if you don’t mean to.

Wonwoo panics at the sight of your tears, at the way your lips tremble and the way he’s sure your nails are digging into your palms. He doesn’t know what to do, unsure about what he can do because you’re…, he winces as he thinks to himself, not even a friend.

What is the appropriate distance he needs to keep? Is he even allowed to comfort you? He can’t even be relieved at your revelation because you’re obviously not fine and there’s something churning at the pit of his guts the longer he sees you try to stop yourself from crying. 

It’s when a sob eventually escapes your lips that he stops thinking. Because how can he stand still when you’re there crying like you’re admitting a crime worthy of a death sentence? When you can’t even lift your head because you’re trying so damn hard to hide your face and your tears?

He hears you gasp when he wraps his arms around you, something that he wishes you’re okay with, and if there’s anything Wonwoo would describe as magical, it’s the way you perfectly fit against him as you press yourself closer for comfort, your forehead on his neck and your tears warm against his skin. He’s sure he’s just making things up, but it feels like there’s a soft wind going through his whole body, leaving trails of goosebumps on his arms.

It’s probably not the most appropriate moment for him to be feeling that way, but he doesn’t have time to be guilty because it seems like you somewhat share the sentiment–pulling away like you’re electrocuted before you look at him wide-eyed and gaping.

“Won–”

“I’m an outlier.” He cuts you off, riding the rush he’s feeling across his body and letting his honest words get out before he can think too much. He doesn’t know why but he feels like he should tell you and he should do it right now. “I don’t have a soulmate and–”

“Kiss me?” There’s urgency and a slight tremble in your voice as you ask this, fingers grasping the material of his shirt tightly like it’s your lifeline. 

“But your soul–”

“Wonwoo, please?”

It’s hard to tell who moves first, or perhaps you two move at the same time, but the moment his lips meet yours, Wonwoo would like to retract his statement earlier about your embrace being magical because it’s nothing compared to this.

It’s absolutely nothing compared to the thousand fireworks exploding in his chest at different intervals–never stopping and electrifying in the most pleasant way possible. He doesn’t know it’s possible for humans to feel this way. Is this what people with a soulmate feels like when they meet their soulmate? Isn’t this what you said earlier: fireworks and butterflies?

It’s not even butterflies in his stomach. He’s pretty sure there’s an earthquake down there. But, the most important of them all, it feels right and it makes sense even though it shouldn’t be. 

The longer his lips move against yours, your fingers grasping the front of his shirt to pull him closer while his fingers thread through your hair to pull you closer, the more it feels like… fuck, he hates to say it but, it feels like it’s meant to be.

It’s only because you both need to take a breath that you pull away, and Wonwoo doesn’t think it’s possible for his heart to run even faster than it already is, but it is because, Christ, the way you look like you’re in a trance and your slightly swollen lips are doing things to his heart that he has never experienced before.

It’s a mystery how long you spend looking at each other like that in silence, wrapped against each other without saying anything. He wants so badly to just kiss you senseless once again, but the gears in his head are starting to turn and he knows the right thing to do is to talk.

You have a soulmate. But you asked him to kiss you and he did. And it was magical and all the good things he’s heard before, but it’s not supposed to be… right?

“What was that?” You whisper, more to yourself than to him. “I… I don’t understand?”

He whispers your name softly, trying to pull away only for you to pull him closer again, your eyes full of distress and your body tense, a complete 180 from how you were just seconds ago.

“W—why?” You look at him like he has an answer. But he doesn’t, because he’s not even sure what you’re asking about and he’s still trying to find words to say. “This… this is what they say about–about fireworks and… and butterflies but… you’re not my soulmate? What does this mean?”

Wonwoo tries once again, this time reaching out to caress your hair to calm you down. It helps, because your shoulders visibly relax and he reminds you to breathe. You refuse to let go of him though, and his heart squeezes painfully at how shaken up you seem to be.

“Hey, I’m–I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He tells you softly, trying to appear calm even despite what he’s feeling inside. But he can’t show it. Not when you look so lost and your feelings are presumably all over the place. “I’ll just… get some stuff inside. I’ll be back in a minute, I promise.”

True to his words, Wonwoo comes back not even a minute late with a pack of tissues and two water bottles. He opts to sit right beside you as he hands you the tissue and opens the water for you.

“Here, drink this.”

“Thanks.” You murmur quietly, embarrassed now that you’ve (somewhat) come to your senses. There’s a thousand questions running through your head, some of them hateful, loathing yourself for asking another guy to kiss you when you have a soulmate who’s probably worried sick at home because you haven’t texted him at all since you left the club.

But you have more pressing matters at hand–like why did Wonwoo actually kiss you, and why did it feel like how people around you have been describing what it feels like to be with your soulmate? And… Did he say he’s an outlier?

“Feeling better?” His voice is meek, like he’s not sure if it’s okay to talk to you. But you’re too all over the place to think about politeness and whatnot. It’s a trainwreck inside your head. Your head isn’t dizzy because you’re overthinking; it’s dizzy because you’re thinking of too many things at once–it’s thought after thought after thought after thought. They’re colliding and everything’s a mess.

“You felt that too right?” is the first thing that you manage to say and it’s only after you say it that you realize how horrifying it would be if Wonwoo says no.

He nods, albeit hesitantly, but you don’t really mind because you’ll take anything right now. “It’s… what was that? Why… Why do I feel it with you but not Joshua?”

Joshua is your soulmate, Wonwoo registers in his mind, and he looks at you helplessly, his heart dropping a little at the mention of his name. Should he tell you? About the dreams and the memories? He thinks the dreams and the memories are simply, well, dreams and memories after he met you and Joshua all those nights ago.

Perhaps he really is just an outlier, a special one at that, but that’s about it. He has trampled any hope of making something out of his dreams when it’s clear that you belong to someone else in this lifetime. The universe that gifts him the memory of his past life with you, one that arranges another meeting in this lifetime with you, is the same fucking universe that decides you have a soulmate and it’s not him.

What the fuck was he supposed to do?

But with how he–and you, apparently–feel earlier, he doesn’t think it’s a meaningless coincidence.

He might’ve considered it as one if it was only him feeling it. That he might’ve been desperate and any contact that he was to have with you would simply be magical because it’s nothing but an illusion on his part.

But you?

You’ve just said you feel it too, whatever it might be. And he feels a glimpse of hope even though the whole situation is completely fucked up and there’s no way to get around it without hurting anyone.

How would you feel if you knew?

Would you freak out?

Would you hate him for hiding it?

Would you think he was planning something against you?

Would you laugh at his face and call him crazy?

“You know something.” Your voice brings him back to reality, your eyes searching his face. You don’t sound accusing, you sound downright confused and, dare he says, a tad bit hopeful. “There’s something you’re not telling me… right?”

Wonwoo takes a deep breath and braces himself for whatever he might need to face afterwards. He owes you that much, he thinks to himself. To a certain extent, his memory is your memory, and if you’re as distraught as you seem to be, he hopes this would help you somehow.

“I remember my past life.” He says as calmly as he can, carefully hiding his fear somewhere behind. “They come to my dreams. I thought it was just dreams at first, but they’re… memories and they’ve been getting longer since I met you. Clearer, too.”

It’s hard to say why you’re not freaked out, why you simply believe him like it’s not the craziest thing you’ve heard in your life. But if the universe can decide two people are destined for each other and grant marks to people to seek their other half, why should this be regarded as impossible?

“Did you… know me in your past life?”

Wonwoo smiles bitterly, and it takes everything in you not to reach out to cup his cheek–tell him that he can be honest and you’re going to listen to him no matter what.

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“As honest as you can be.”

“I might sound crazy.” He whispers, basking in your touch. “This… might affect you in a bad way.”

“Crazier than you remembering your past life?” You smile a little as you say this, which he returns. He appreciates your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere, and he reaches up to take the hand that was cupping his cheek, his fingers tighten around yours before he braces himself once again.

“You were my soulmate.” He rips the bandaid in one go, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to say it otherwise.

It’s hard to describe what you’re feeling: your breath is caught in your throat, the revelation means more than you thought it would. But it’s not shock that’s filling you up. No. It’s recognition, acceptance, and tears because things finally make sense.

“I promised you that I’d find you again in our next life and–”

It finally fucking makes sense why you always feel like there’s something missing in your life, why Joshua’s arrival doesn’t fill it up even though you secretly thought it would; why you feel that pull with Wonwoo since that first time you met him.

You remember that day still. You were just taking a walk, there was no plan whatsoever to sit around and spend time out in the open when it’s so hot outside. But you had seen him by himself, and it felt like time stopped for a few moments and you were enchanted. You felt compelled to look at him–to approach him and ask if it’s okay to take the empty seat on his table.

It wasn’t magical, your first meeting, but something about Wonwoo had pulled you in and you didn’t even try to question it. 

The shock you felt when he called you ‘Autumn’ never really died down. And while you tried to convince yourself that it’s simply because it had been a long time since someone referred to you with that name and it was a nickname that is so dear to you, you could feel deep down that there was something else.

And then there was that dream.

Wait.

Right, that dream. 

Is that dream…?

“Ginkgo leaf?” You whisper out of nowhere, trying to recall what you saw all those nights ago. “Was that your mark? In your previous life… was that your mark?”

It’s his turn to look at you in shock, the way he’s gaping at you wide-eyed giving you the answer you were looking for.

“H–how?”

“I had a dream, once.” You’ve never felt this vulnerable in your life, but how can you not be when it feels like you’ve just found the reason you’ve been seeking for your whole life? “It was… that night we met… at Namsan. It was your birthday and we were celebrating with a cake and–”

“Hey, breathe?” Wonwoo cuts you off, and you squeeze his fingers in return, only then realizing that you’ve been holding hands the whole time. “Take your time, okay?”

“And I saw the ginkgo leaf on your wrist…” You finish, trying your best not to glance at his wrist even though you know it’s not there. “I didn’t get to see mine though, and that’s why I didn’t assume you were my soulmate.”

“I see…”

You hate how defeated he sounds. And for all the time you’ve been doubting the universe, questioning its means and cursing its ways, you don’t know what to do right now.

Should you be cursing it some more for putting Wonwoo in that position? For making you feel the way you feel only to find out the reason why is because your heart is apparently caught in the past? What does this make Joshua? What does this make your entire relationship with him?

You ask about his dreams, and even though Wonwoo is hesitant at first, he gets more comfortable the more he relays them. And you feel like crying because, apparently, all of them are about you. There’s not one single dream that doesn’t have you in it, and it feels like a punch to your guts to know that he has to live his life with this replaying in his mind, that he can’t even talk about it to anyone because he doesn’t want to risk it, that he’s been keeping something this big for his whole life because he doesn’t really have any other choice.

You grief about the memories you don’t have. About what could’ve been and about the pain Wonwoo has to go through by himself because the universe has arranged you to be with someone else when he’s been seeing pictures of you with him in his dreams.

“What… what do you think we should do?” You throw the question out there, hope that someone has the answer. But Wonwoo stays silent, and he looks at you with eyes full of yearning that wrenches your soul. You know what he’s trying to say. You’re the one who has a soulmate. Whatever that he might want with you, what he might’ve imagined throughout the entire time he has those memories, they all don’t mean anything because you’re off limits.

“I don’t… think there’s anything that we can do.”

“But–”

“It’s okay.” He shakes his head with a sad smile. “I didn’t… I wasn’t expecting anything. I didn’t even think I’d be talking about this with you.”

“But, still!” You’re grasping his hand tightly–as if he’ll be gone if you let go even slightly. “This… this has got to mean something!”

“You have a soulmate.” He reminds you, his voice shaking. And tears blur your eyes once again at how resigned he sounds, but can you blame him? The universe has fucked him up in more ways than one, you would’ve lost it a long time ago if you were him, but here he is, taking care of you still even though it might make things worse for him.

“Do you love me?”

Wonwoo exhales deeply, pressing his lips together to hide the fact that they’re trembling because he’s so close to tears.

“I know my past self loved you more than life itself.”

“Do you love me?”

“Look–I…”

“Because there’s—there’s clearly something because my heart feels like it’s about to burst and I already want to be with you all the time.” You cry as you honestly bare yourself in front of him, as you tell him all the emotions that have been going through you since the kiss you share with each other minutes ago. “I don’t… I’ve never felt like this before and I’ve always questioned why–wonder what went wrong and if there’s some kind of mistake. But I couldn’t do anything because supposedly he’s my soulmate and I’m supposed to accept that. Because it’s a given and it’s obvious and there’s just no fucking reason for me to question it.”

Wonwoo lets his tears fall as you say all this, his hands warm against yours and he relishes at the way you’re holding on to them tightly, like you want to convince him that there’s something–some way to go around this.

“But you just gave me a reason to question it now.” You sob, reminding him about the talk you had the first time you met each other. 

If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path?

You must look absolutely hideous right now, with tears all over your face that won’t stop no matter how many times you wipe them. But you don’t care, because you finally feel content with him beside you. Because even though it’s selfish and you would need to figure out the whole Joshua situation, you’re not going to let go of the person who finally makes you feel complete, who makes you realize the things your friends have been saying are all true: that it just makes sense, that it’s practically binding to the point where you even hate to think about having to separate with him after this night ends.

“You told me I could always go against my destiny if that’s what I choose to do. Why are you not letting me? Do you not feel it?”

“I do. I swear, I feel it too.” He wipes the last of his tears and calms himself down, makes you panic when he tries to let go of your hands only for his palm to rest warmly against the side of your face. “But you have a soulmate and it’s not something that you can decide by yourself. It wouldn’t be fair to him, don’t you think?”

“Has the universe ever been fair to you?” You ask him, wondering how he can still have this much consideration for someone who he should’ve harbored ill feelings for.

“It leads me to you, doesn’t it? In two different lifetimes too.” He smiles and caresses your cheek, wiping your tears also. 

“Please stop making me cry.” You whisper weakly, certain that your eyes will be red and puffy once you’ve stopped crying.

Wonwoo chuckles at this, and the sound of his small laughter brings a smile out of you despite the tears.

“I’m not saying you’re not in your right mind. But perhaps… we’re too high on our emotions right now, don’t you agree?”

You don’t. You really don’t. But you get what he’s saying so you nod and instead bask in the way his thumb is caressing the apple of your cheek.

“So what do you suppose we should do?

“You… might want to think this through and have a talk with… Joshua.” It’s bizarre to hear Joshua’s name from Wonwoo, but you know he’s right and if… if you want to try whatever it is you’re going to try with Wonwoo, you don’t want to do it in hiding and you don’t want to betray Joshua’s trust and respect more than you probably already have at this point. He might hate you, he might not accept it, but you have to at least try and a part of you believes Joshua would understand somehow. “And then we can decide from then?”

“Okay…” You close your eyes and lean forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder, feeling his arm pulling you closer and trying to memorize his scent and his warmth to calm the erratic beat of your heart. “Okay.”

Wonwoo takes you home, sitting a good distance from you in the taxi like you both weren’t pressed against each other just minutes prior. But you know why he’s doing it, and you still appreciate him for going with you just to make sure you’ll go back safely even if he doesn’t have to.

For the first time that night, your mind wanders to Joshua. About how you should approach the subject with him and all the consequences you might need to face afterwards. It’s not going to be pretty even if Joshua somehow understands: what would you say to your family? To his family?

But you can’t let go of Wonwoo. Not now that you’ve met him, that you’ve found out what his existence means to you and you’ve felt all the magic you’ve been hearing from other people.

You wonder now if the reason why you’ve questioned the whole soulmate system is because it doesn’t apply to you personally. Because you didn’t feel the pull and all that should’ve come along with the first meeting.

Now that you’ve felt it with Wonwoo… You glance at him, which Wonwoo catches almost right away. He smiles at you, though you can tell his eyes are full of worries, his mind probably elsewhere. You don’t blame him though, what has transpired tonight is beyond the two of you; it’s only right for him to be out of it.

You suddenly feel like one of those stupid main characters in a romance movie, one who would throw everything away for a man they barely know. But your heart knows Wonwoo, yearns for him before you even know it. In a world where two people are destined to be together… you don’t think it’s stupid of you to want to do this.

When the driver tells you that you’ve arrived you hesitate before you get off, not wanting to leave Wonwoo. But he smiles in encouragement, tells you that you have his number and you’re free to text him after you’ve figured things out.

He omits Joshua from his sentence, but you know that’s what he means.

“Hey.” He calls for you right when you’re about to close the door and reaches out to squeeze your hand once, letting go before you can return the gesture. “Don’t rush it, okay? Take your time. I’ll be waiting. You know I’m good at that.”

Wonwoo waits.

Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months.

There’s a reason why he gave you his number instead of asking for yours.

He wants you to be ready before deciding anything, wants you to make the decision that you think is best for you.

He knows he’d call you right away if he has your number, to make sure you’re okay and to see how you’re doing.

But that’d be even more painful, he feels like. More painful than a thousand scenarios going through his mind because he’s by himself. At least like this, he knows it’s nothing but scenarios that he comes up with; nothing is real and it’s all in his head.

Like his dreams.

Like his memories.

He exhales as he looks at his phone once again, waiting for your message that isn’t coming.

The third time Wonwoo meets you might be the last time he sees you, after all.

Three months later, October comes around, yellow leaves telling him that autumn has arrived. Not his Autumn, obviously, and he glares at the ginkgo tree he passes by that is still annoyingly green even though everything else has started to turn yellow.

The third week of October, you finally text Wonwoo, apologizing for the time you took and asking if it’s still okay to see each other even though it’s been months since then. He says yes, of course, and you’re currently sitting anxiously in the taxi on your way to his place.

You don’t know how Wonwoo is going to take what you’re about to tell him and you don’t think it’s wise to be having this conversation out in the open; hence why you’re thankful that he agrees when you ask if it’s okay to talk in the privacy of his walls.

“Hi.” He opens the door, offering you a small smile that you return tightly. It’s weird that you immediately feel at peace in his presence despite the anxiety that has been building up in your chest. 

“Hi.” You press your lips together, exhaling a deep breath before you apologize to him once again. “Sorry it took me quite some time to text you. I didn’t want to… rush, like you said.”

“It’s okay.” You know it’s not, you can tell by how tense it is and how forced his smile seems to be. Plus, it doesn’t take a genius to know why he looks like he hasn’t been getting decent sleep because you know you probably would’ve looked the same if not for your makeup.

He ushers you to come in, tells you to sit down on the sofa and offers you a drink, in which you say you’re fine with just water.

Wonwoo returns with a cup of warm tea though, and he says that he’s put some honey in it, that you look tense and hopefully the drink helps.

“I figure you’ve made up your mind?”

Truth be told, you can’t even begin to imagine what’s been going on inside Wonwoo’s head. You offered yourself to him only to go missing for three months straight, not even a text that tells him that you’re okay and you’re not forgetting him. 

But you didn’t want to text him when things were uncertain, not with what happened right after you got home–with what went down between you and Joshua.

You couldn’t.

That’s why you’ve only finally managed to text him a few days ago. With things being in the clear, you can finally talk to him and decide what’s going to happen moving forward.

“Give me a chance to explain?” You look at him hopefully.

“I wouldn’t tell you to come if I wasn’t going to listen to you.” His smile lifts parts of your tension, and you take a deep breath before you begin, already having imagined this conversation a hundred times in your head. 

“Joshua was there when I came home that night.” You bite your lip, already feeling like crying as you recall that scene in your head. “He was on the floor, passed out. He wouldn’t wake up no matter how much I shook him, and I realized he was clutching his neck–right where our soulmate marks are. It was hot, like it was burning before, and I called the hospital right away and–”

“Wait–burning?” 

“Yes and… and the mark was fading and it was only hours later that I realized mine was fading also.” You swallow hard at this, a painful wave crashes against your heart as you recall his face when he came to, when he told them what happened and when they told him what actually happened.

“It just… started burning out of nowhere.”

The doctor glanced at you, your eyes were puffy from crying even more than you already did before that, your fingers tight against Joshua’s because you thought you’d lost him.

“Did you feel the burn also?” The doctor pulled you out after Joshua fell back asleep, a conclusion already knitting itself together in her mind. There’s no way you’d be fine enough to stand on your own feet if you had felt the burn, but still, she had to make sure before jumping into conclusions.

“No…” You sniffled. “I… was out with… a friend and he already passed out when I came back home.”

“No pain, at all?”

You shook your head, mentally and physically exhausted after everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours.

“No. I–He’d be fine, right?” You asked in desperation. “What… what happened, exactly?”

“We need to run some more tests. But… you’re sure you didn’t feel anything at all?”

“No, I didn’t. I really didn’t. Does that mean anything?”

“They… they said it’s the universe… taking our marks from us.” You force a smile just right after the first tear falls, your feelings still all over the place even though almost three months have passed since then. “Apparently, it had happened before. Though it’s been fifty years or so since they last heard of a case. They couldn’t really tell why it happened because there weren’t many cases to study and compare, but I felt like… I might have an idea why it happened so I met the doctor privately and told her about you.”

Wonwoo holds back the urge to reach for your hands that are balled into fists, to free your lower lip from your teeth because he’s sure you’d bleed if you bite down just a tad bit harder. 

“She said that there’s a possibility that I was right. That… the universe is rearranging my soulmate because I met you. It’s not unheard of, but it’s not something that you’d even find in books because it’s some sort of myth at this point.”

You look up to meet his eyes. His heart breaks at how sad you look, and the protective feeling from three months ago when he saw you crying at one in the morning returns at once. He’s not sure if it’s okay to comfort you this time around though, because by the way you’re relaying the story, he can’t tell at all where you stand exactly.

“I was debating with myself whether it would be better to tell him right away or wait until he got better. But Joshua… caught on easily that something bothered me and it just… came out. I didn’t say your name, and I only told him what he might need to know: that I met someone and it just… made sense.

It wasn’t easy. He was the one laying on the hospital bed but he was also the one comforting me. And I felt so bad and I kept on apologizing to him but he said it’s okay and he understood. That it’s not my fault because he knew I didn’t have a say in how I felt.”

From the thousand scenarios Wonwoo has imagined in the three months you left him in silence, this is not one of them. He can’t even begin to imagine how painful it must’ve been for Joshua, both physically and mentally. His mind takes him back to Jisoo, about what she said about the burn she felt and how it affected her after.

How could Joshua say that in his position?

For what it’s worth, Wonwoo is glad to know that you were meant to be with someone as caring as Joshua is–who is so understanding that he would withstand that kind of pain and said it was fine. That he doesn’t blame you for it.

But where does this leave the two of you now?

“He asked me what I wanted to do now that we’re… no longer bonded by the marks. And I told him honestly that I don’t want to lose him; that I still… love him even though it’s not how he expected me to. That I understand if he doesn’t want me around because it can’t be easy to look at someone who used to be your soulmate.”

You’re sobbing at this point, and he hands you some tissues to wipe your tears, reminds you to breathe before you continue.

“Can you… can you hold me, please?” Your voice is small as you say this, as if you’re uncertain whether you’re allowed to ask that. Wonwoo is glad you did though, because he immediately comes closer and pulls you into his chest, offering you whatever comfort he might be able to give that way. “Sorry, I just–”

“Shh. It’s fine.” Whatever the outcome of this conversation may be, this is the least he can do for you. And perhaps a little for himself also, because it’s painful to see you cry and not able to do anything at all. Because he’s been dreaming of hugging you–the you in this lifetime, not the past one–and he’s not going to pass any chance that’s presented in front of him even if it might be wrong. He still doesn’t know how your talk ended with Joshua, but if you asked him to hold you… that should mean something, right? “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?” You sniffle, pulling away to look at him.

“It is my place, so.” He tries to joke to help you relax, and it works because you weakly hit his chest before you exhale another deep breath and continue after Wonwoo makes you take a sip of your tea.

“He… He’d like to keep me around too.” You say quietly, your tears now replaced with hiccups. “But not now. Because it still hurts and… and he says he’d contact me once he’s ready.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

You shrug, burying yourself further into his neck. Is it bad that it feels so right to do this already? Is it bad that you’re doing this when you’re still trying to move on from your guilt?

“I honestly have no idea… But… Well, he says he wants me to be happy with you and that he doesn’t want me to not give you–us–a chance because I feel guilty towards him. That… what’s done is done and he’ll eventually be okay.”

“He’s very kind, isn’t he?” He comments instead, unsure how to feel after everything you’ve said. A big part of him is relieved, but it’s still hard to be completely happy when he knew it cost someone the kind of pain that would last a lifetime. 

“The kindest.” You smile for the first time, agreeing with him. “I think that’s also why I’ve always had this guilt within me, you know? Even before I met you. Because I just know I can’t return his feelings but he was supposed to be my soulmate.”

“I understand.” He whispers against your head, leaning his cheek there. “Is that also why it took you three months to text me?”

“Partly… yeah. I ended up taking care of him until he got discharged, and we decided to just… talk to our parents separately about what happened and what… might happen moving forward. And then I spent some time arranging my thoughts and cleaning up his stuff from my apartment. I haven’t given them back to him, but they’re all in a box in my place. So… yeah. Sorry for not texting you at all.”

He hums and holds you tighter, feels the way your arms are also hugging him in apology. He doesn’t press about your parents, he supposes you would’ve talked about it if you want to. But you’ve just relayed a very emotionally loaded story which must be very exhausting in itself.

“I did tell you to take your time.” He says, a smile blooming into his face at what he says next. “Thank you for coming back to me.”

“Thank you for letting me come back to you.” You say instead, pulling away from him to meet his eyes. Your eyes must be puffy from all the crying, gosh, you seem to be crying all the time when you’ve only seen this guy four times in total. You wonder if you were this much of an emotional wreck too in your past life, but you decide against asking about it because it does not matter now.

Your past lives might be the one that eventually leads you to each other; but Wonwoo has probably had enough stories regarding the past life and you don’t see why you should talk about it when you have the future in front of you.

“They’ve stopped, you know?” Wonwoo suddenly says.

“What have?”

“The dreams.” He presses his lips together and looks at you for comfort, which you readily give as you squeeze his shoulder. “They don’t appear anymore. Like, completely stopped. I do dream of you, but not… you from the past life. Just you.”

“How do you know it’s not me from the past?”

He takes your hand before he answers, gently lifts it up to point at your empty wrist and smiles.

“Because there’s no mark on your wrist.”

“Ah… right.” You lean forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder, and you spend a moment like that: your body pressed against each other and the ghost of his lips on top of your head.

It’s then that you whisper, a little afraid but also hopeful–perhaps even excited at what the future might have in store for you two.

“Are we really doing this?”

“A little too late to not do this, I think.” He jokes, which earns him another hit on the chest and a glare that doesn’t affect him at all. He cups your cheek and looks into your eyes, making you shy from the sudden attention. “If you want it then I want it. Easy as that.”

You press your lips together and bask in his stare, get lost in his eyes as you finally try to let go of the guilt holding you down and focus more on the certainty that you felt that night you tried to convince Wonwoo to do something about your situation.

“I’ll be okay.” Joshua reassured you for the nth time as you dropped him off his place, your second home that you probably wouldn’t be able to visit until an indefinite time. “Don’t worry too much about me, okay? You know how I am.”

“I’m really–”

“I don’t want you to apologize again.” He cuts you off, his voice stern. “I don’t blame you, I really don’t. I’m happy to know you’ve met someone that has made you complete. I’m sorry for not being able to do that to you. It must’ve been hard for you all those time, hm? So try to be happy now. Don’t think too much about me. I will be okay, trust me on that. I’ve never gone back on my words, have I? I don’t regret the time I had with you and I don’t want you to feel guilty for not feeling a certain way.”

“Let’s do it, then?” You say, wanting to make sure like there’s any way Wonwoo would say no. “Fuck the universe, right?”

Wonwoo laughs and gently squishes your cheeks before he nods, his forehead leaning to rest against yours, his breath warm against your face even though his lips aren't touching yours just yet.

“Fuck the universe, indeed.”

It's later that night that you point at the inside of his wrist and gasp when you check yours: identical marks of a twin gingko leaves intertwined with each other adorning your wrist and his.

Wonwoo grins.

His Autumn is finally here.

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don’t allow any reposting, translation, and any other kind of redistribution of this fic. Please tell me if you’re aware of anyone doing this without my permission.

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pls tell me if you wanna be removed btw it's totally ok, no hard feelings!!

A/N 2: well, if you're reading this, thank you once again!! i have never written this trope before and i honestly can't tell at all if you'll like it or not. but i wrote this for wonwoo's birthday, so hopefully i'll have it in me to accept it if it's not your cup of tea. but anyway, it's been some time since i write anything this long also--didn't even know i had it in me to still write anything this long, and it kinda made me realize that... this might be my last long piece for a quite some time. it's not easy to write this, to see my notifications everyday and see less and less feedbacks while the likes take up 95% of them. i've said it before, but it gets discouraging the more it goes. i'm not announcing hiatus or anything, but i hope you know where my blog stands at this point. happy birthday once again wonwoo, my muse, the loml 🥰💕

[safety-pin-punk]

hey queer nd teen here i've been really interested in punk culture and the message drives me to tears but i'm scared of being called a poser because i feel like a coward

i hate cops and i think they should fucking die and the government is fucked and we have to look after each other. but i feel backed into a corner because i'm surrounded by family who would laugh at me and just wouldn't understand and i don't feel like i can Handle it but i Want to

as a shy and nonconfrontational teen with a shit ton of anxiety to boot i dunno. i admire brave hardcore punks who beat up cops and nazis but i Can't Be That

no need for a response but it would be nice

When I was a teen, I was told by my best friend that I could never be a punk. That I would never be a punk. But here I am. I was a shy quiet kid, and I’m still pretty quiet and prefer to avoid confrontations when I can. My point is, these things don’t prevent people from being a punk if its in their nature

Not all punks are the big tough punks who can physically fight those fights. Though they are a very important part of our community. But we also have plenty of disabled, neurodivergent, and chronically ill people who are just as punk, and even people who are just not into violence. They are advocates, they are researchers, they are community care takers. Being a punk isnt all about fighting evil. I actually think thats not the best way to look at it at all. Being punk is about caring for your community. And while ‘fighting evil’ is a part of it, there are a lot more things that entails.

If you truly want to be a punk, it seems like you are already going down the right path. You alluded to a not so great home life where it might not be the best idea to dress in alternative styles. You could always start with smaller, more subtle things. Or you can just wait until you can move out to start exploring that. Remember, being punk is more than just an aesthetic, and while the aesthetic may look cool, it is by no means a requirement to be a punk (honestly half the time I run around it cowboy boots and a flannel - in the winter I usually add the hat too)

You are a teen still. Growing and learning about yourself and the world around you. And so are your peers. Any teen who calls you a poser is being a jerk and doesn’t know all that much about the scene. Any grown adult that calls you a poser is probably a poser themselves who refuses to acknowledge that not every person comes from the same background. But I also feel like it’s important to tell you that what anyone else says shouldnt matter that much. Even if it feels like it does, if you let their words matter to you, you are giving them all the control.

Its okay to be young and not know a lot. Its okay to not dress alternative for any number of reasons. Its okay to not feel like you could go off and fight bad people. None of those things make you a poser.

[genderqueerdykes]

ik there's a lot of examples of why transandrophobia is "valid/real" and whatever. but I think one that stands out to me is when people make comments like "men shouldn't rest or feel safe until menstruation products are free/men have 0 say in any laws surrounding uteruses/men can't ever know what it's like to be a *insert traumatic experience commonly happening to young girls*" and stuff of the like. just conversations that ignore a large portion of the tmen/masc communities existence (and probably some intersex folk too yh?? and enbies who are like man-aligned or js like. yeah transandrophobia effects a lot of ppl) and experiences and I'm like. so what word do I use to describe this? "just use transphobia" what if I want a word to describe my unique experiences for once that isn't an incredibly broad one for the whole community?? Maybe I want one that quickly describes this unique forgeting tmen exist completely js so you can angrily yell at men without repercussions.

what if I'm sick of yelling "transphobia!" just to be told "oh... no I'm talking about CIS men" as if I'm not actually a man, that cis men are more man than I will ever be and like this is a good thing. or being told I'm being hostile and are proof testosterone makes you evil. what do I call it then. you can't separate the man from trans, I'm a TRANS. MAN. and I deserve a word to describe the things I've experienced just like transfems and transwomen and nonbinary people without being told I'm "speaking over anyone"

idk, food for thought maybe infighting and attacking your own community isn't the way forward. maybe hating men, trans or not, will never be the liberating progressive feminist movement you think it is. maybe just maybe hate is not something you're immune to just because you're hated. maybe we all need to calm the fuck down and revaluate some shit and process our own bigotry /nay

this is a great ask, thanks for taking the time to send this, i appreciate you for telling your story and giving feedback. this is the exact reason i made a post a few days ago about how we have to stop holding back on having genuine conversations about queer experiences and the diversity and struggles transness bring. no trans person has it easy. none. we all suffer because cisheteronormative patriarchy hates the concept of transness. it hates trans men and mascs too

just conversations that ignore a large portion of the tmen/masc communities existence (and probably some intersex folk too yh?? and enbies who are like man-aligned or js like. yeah transandrophobia effects a lot of ppl) and experiences and I'm like. so what word do I use to describe this? "just use transphobia" what if I want a word to describe my unique experiences for once that isn't an incredibly broad one for the whole community?? Maybe I want one that quickly describes this unique forgeting tmen exist completely js so you can angrily yell at men without repercussions.

This entire line of thinking has been so pointlessly rude for no reason this entire time. This is legitimately one of the dumbest, pettiest things I have ever seen in my life and I'm saying it like it is: trans women and transfems do not own the concept of having a specific kind of oppression when it comes to transness. Whether or not you want to accept that trans men are also oppressed under patriarchy isn't our business. But it's the truth. And getting upset because transmascs and men wanted to coin "transandrophobia," what exactly is that solving? Genuinely how is that talking over trans women.

what if I'm sick of yelling "transphobia!" just to be told "oh... no I'm talking about CIS men" as if I'm not actually a man, that cis men are more man than I will ever be and like this is a good thing. or being told I'm being hostile and are proof testosterone makes you evil. what do I call it then. you can't separate the man from trans, I'm a TRANS. MAN. and I deserve a word to describe the things I've experienced just like transfems and transwomen and nonbinary people without being told I'm "speaking over anyone"

Absolutely, you and every other transmasc and trans man and related person deserve to be able to discuss your struggles and experiences. Let's have an honest conversation about it for once. Creating a term, and thus a space and forum where people can go to to have a conversation, share experiences and identify with one another means that there is now a dedicated space to having that conversation. That space is not built directly on top of transfem and trans woman spaces. It is built beside it, laterally. This means that if people want to talk about the specific forms of transphobia trans men, transmascs, and some intersex, nonbinary, genderqueer, genderfluid, bigender, agender and other queer people, there is a specific space to do it, reducing the amount of people who are in specifically transfeminine spaces talking about struggles that are not the same.

Having different terms is a very good thing because it means that people who share the same experiences can come together. This means that trans men and mascs now have a place to talk that lowers the chances of them accidentally or even intentally talking over trans women and transfems. This has never been a bad thing. It's a good thing. If transfems and women get to make specific spaces for ourselves, so are transmascs and trans men. They don't have to "just use transphobia". What they're experiencing is unique to them and you don't have the right to tell them what they are and are not experiencing.

If you as a trans woman or transfem do not want to hear about how transmascs and trans men have it, please feel free to go to spaces that are focused around transfems and trans women where you can talk about the similar experiences you have. Don't take our space away from us just because you don't want to listen, though. Trans men still deserve to be able to talk. You don't have to shut up trans men in order for trans women to be heard.