#Hence the blocking and this final block being permanent

[eveningepiphany]

welcome to the final show | H.S, part 3

my masterlist!

part one and part two!

summary: harry goes over to y/ns hotel for a good old room service dinner, also getting a little tipsy on wine, while starting to blur some lines. and it’s not long before things are no longer just between the two of them.

warnings: fluff, swearing, alcohol, getting a lil wine drunk, paparazzi, being confused on if you’re falling in love or just really good friends.

a/n: i’m so excited to finally have this written for you all! i’ve had some pretty bad writers block, hence the delay in getting it to you, but thank you so much again for your support and I hope you enjoy <3

———

There’s a certain type of attatchment that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s when things start to flourish. Maybe with a hobby, a passion, or a new found person. One your brain decides to put all its focus and interest on, to the point it’s all consuming.

This one gets stuck to you like glue. Hard to shake in the sense of no matter how hard you try to ignore it, it’s all you can think about.

Losing yourself in daydreams of something or someone without even realising, until you’re reaching for anything that will bring you closer to filling that need.

That’s exactly what’s leading you to be reaching for your phone at any given point of the day.

You imagine many perceive it to be a permanent growth on your person. But you can hardly help it. Texting is a simple way to reach someone. Feel connected.

So, safe to say you’ve messaged Harry more than your own family over the course of this trip.

You’ve become attached. To Harry Styles. Again…?

Of course, being a huge fan it’s easy to say you should probably already be accustomed to this, given your level of obsession.

But this is a whole other ball game. One that is becoming like an internal battle. Your already unhealthy and predisposed infatuation paired with now a real physical connection is enough to render you useless.

You reach for your phone. Text him, your brain begs. You consider. No, stop being clingy you loser, your brain rolls her metaphorical eyes. You place the phone down. Stare at a wall. Think about him. Rinse, repeat.

Not normal, you don’t think.

However, you search for some kind of justification. That you’re just good friends, and all that shit. It’s normal to miss someone you’re friends with.

If he considers you as that.

Which you would hope since you’ve been texting him enough it would be concerning if he saw you as just some mutual of his.

You’re also sitting in a cafe, unfortunately without him right now. Eating a croissant wishing that he were here. Allowing your gaze to linger on the chair across from yourself, imagining his solid frame filling up the empty space. What he would do if you stood up and ran a hand through his hair, maybe lent down a little so you could just—

The ring of the bell atop their entrance chimes and drags you out if your dangerous and spiralling thoughts. And for some reason get excited like you’ve somehow manifested this man to walk through the cafe door by thinking of him.

Feeling silly at the nag of disappointment in your stomach as you see an ordinary bloke saunter over to the till.

Maybe one you would check out, or emit some kind of interest in before you properly met Harry. You would feel disloyal now. Like the parasocial relationship has entered an entirely new level of psychotic.

If it’s still parasocial, that is. Or if now you’re just simply a girl with very cloudy and mixed feelings about a very beautiful man.

You audibly sigh out. Eating the final bite of your admittedly delicious croissant and picking up your phone.

You type out a message, sending it before you can even think it.

I’m in a cafe right now without you and you’ve honestly ruined them for me. I miss you and your free cups of tea.

Without me? Rude.

You laugh at his quip, watching as the little bubble pops back up indicating he’s typing.

I’m out right now, but if you’re not busy later we can do something? Go out or I can come over to yours.

You pluck mindlessly at your bottom lip with your teeth, how could you say no to that?

You stress over it either way.

well, you’re very welcome to come over to my hotel room. we can order room service if you want?

To this he texts back an agreement, seemingly keen. And you realise immediately you have to tidy your room before he comes over.

You swing him the location of where you’re staying, including your room and floor number.

Thank you love, ill be there in like 3 hours say? If that works for you.

At that, you stand, because who are you if not over-prepared. And it was time to go make sure your room didn’t like a war had been waged in it when he came over for the first time.

Cant be having a bad impression, you figured.

———

You did in fact rush back to your hotel complex. Not even stopping a crepe stall you passed by, which had to be a first for you. You clean the place until it appears well-kept at the least.

And once you’re finished, you easily fall back into overthinking the whole thing. So excited, yet getting those anxious jitters like a caffeine addict 12 hours no coffee.

Which is why you decide to busy yourself with an afternoon shower. And at the time you’d still had over an hour to go.

You take of course longer than you intended, and shortly after you come out there’s a knock at your door, easily making you jump as you tug a shirt over your head. Regretting the last minute decision for a shower since now you have wet hair and probably look like a right mess.

But it’s not like you can leave him out there while you go blow dry your hair, so you rush over to the door, and tug it open.

His brows shoot up, and a smile slowly blooms on his face as he takes in your appearance.

Your hair is still near dripping, and you stand in bike shorts and a loose tshirt. The most casual he’s ever seen you. Which he loved the look on you more than he admits to himself.

“Hi darling,” he smirks, a warm feeling settling over him as he keeps his eyes on you.

“Hey, Harry.” You stand for a few moments longer, finally shuflling out of his way to let him through the door. He is adorning a white shirt and has the cutest little bandana around his neck.

“I’m sorry,” You laugh, gesturing him inside, “I was drastically overestimating how long it would take me to shower… hence why im in this state.”

He pulls a hand from behind his back, a cup being presented to you.

“Don’t be silly, y’not in a state at all.”

“You’re joking—“ You gently take the cup from his ringed hands, “Harry!”

“M’sorry, m’sorry. I saw a coffee van on the way and I couldn’t help myself.”

“Did you get one for you?”

“No, but I did have a little sip of yours.” He confesses with a quiet laugh. But he quickly busies himself with your room, padding around and peeking out the balcony window.

You take a sip, watching him examine your space. Grateful you cleaned it.

He asks you a few questions about random things in your room, and you settle yourself on the foot of your bed, cross-legged.

You didn’t really think about the lack of seating in your one man room. But this hardly bothers Harry, since he’s scoped up the room service menu from wherever he found it, and sat next to you.

“Alright… what d’we have.” He talks to himself, opening up the menu and scanning over the foods.

You discuss the options, settling on a pizza and pasta to share, because, well, you’re in Italy.

The night progresses easily as time always seems to do when you’re together, and you fake fight over the best kind of pasta sauce. But he lets you have to last slice of pizza so peace is made shortly after.

“Should we order a wine or something? T’wash the pasta down.” He suggests as the sun begins setting.

“Why not, I won’t say no to some wine.”

That gets ordered to your door, and you go from the foot of the bed to lazing at the head of it. Sipping on wine and recounting old stories, or discussing stupid topics.

“Do you think the chicken or the egg came first?” You swirl your glass around, eyes shifting to look at his side profile as he gazes at your roof.

His cute nose outlined by the warm light off the lamp, which you flicked on in the corner after it got dark.

He bursts out into a laugh, “what kind of question is that?”

“I feel like it indicates the sort of person someone is.” You shrug, smiling.

“What like it gives you an intel on my personality?”

“Something like that.” You nod, “and decides if we have to stop being friends, if you answer the wrong one.”

He grins, “Well, maybe tell me which one to pick so we don’t have to do that.”

“Awh, so you don’t want to stop being friends?” You coo, still staring at him, watching as his eyes flick from the roof over to you.

“Of course not, who else am I meant to go on cafe dates with.” He laughs.

You’re both teetering on the edge of being tipsy, and it’s evident in the way you’re both talking to one another. Borderline flirting, probably a more fitting way to describe it.

“True, because I’d be very hard to replace.” You snort with sarcasm, taking the another sip of wine.

“You would be! I love our little dates.” He smiles, the second time he’s dropped the word date in the last minute.

You’ve scooted closer to one another somehow. Shoulder to shoulder as you steal glances of his beautiful face. Maybe this was subconscious, or on purpose. But you’re drawn to him like a magnet.

“So do I…” You flush.

“I’m a little tipsy.” You clarify, breaking the searing eye contact and looking at the near-empty glass in your hand. A fourth refill would easily tip you over the edge.

He lets out a quiet laugh, “Wine gone to y’head too?”

“Mhm, and I have a track record of poor decision making when I have too much of it.” You recall the plenty of times you did the stupidest shit just because you were wine drunk. Hoping that does not happen tonight.

“Might have to see it one day.”

“One day…” you agree, but you realise that you’re not really in Italy for much longer. You have about a week and a half left now.

“I… Harry,” you turn your body to face him, and he sits up a little, noticing the almost serious tone to your voice.

“I’m leaving soon.” You blurt it out, because it’s the only topic of conversation you’ve both been steering clear of. The thing neither of you want to address because eventually this won’t be easy to do. Who knows how many miles could get out between you.

And it almost hurts you to admit yourself because… where exactly does that leave you both?

Does your contact end when you leave Italy? Do you become people who occasionally text on a bi-monthly basis?

He draws a breath, “So am I.”

You let out your own tortured sigh, turning to pop your glass on the beside table and then lean your head onto his shoulder.

Your heart jumps at the contact, and somewhere in your brain, sober Y/N lets out a gasp, because she would never have the balls to do that.

So the wine maybe was a great idea…?

He wraps an arm around your back, “I go back to London after this.”

“Second week of August as well?” You pray it’s not earlier than the start of the month, since tomorrow is literally the 1st.

“Yea, the 13th.” He nods and it’s the only tiny shred of relief you’re getting from all this. That there’s still time left.

“I fly out on the 12th.” You say quietly.

But there’s a small silence that consumes you both for the first time since you met. Because you’re kind of exasperated for options right now. What do you say to someone who is going to inevitably slip from your grip.

You shake your head at nothing in particular, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders, since words really weren’t going to cut it.

Somewhere in his muddled brain he notes this is the second time you’ve ever initiated a hug. And he leans into it, the arm he had around your back tugging you infinitely closer.

Your cheek is pressed to his neck, and you swear you feel his lips ghosting over the top of your head.

Slowly, you pull back. And he watches you with sharp green eyes. You hold that gaze, until he’s the one that breaks it. Stifling a groan with his hand, covering his face.

You look at him quizzically.

“I like this more than I probably should.” He gestures now between the two of you.

You chuckle, a tiny flutter in your stomach announcing it’s presence.

“So we’re making the most of the time left in Italy, then?” You put forward, ready to nearly wipe your schedule clean for the man.

Which, who could blame you?

“What are y’doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing, if you’re the one asking.” You laugh, and he smiles wide at your comment.

“Oh, is that so darling?”

You roll your eyes in attempt to be convincing, “of course, you always buy me tea so…”

“Well, that decides we’re going to another cafe I suppose.” His hand reaches for his phone strewn on the quilt somewhere, pulling up google maps to find some nearby cafes.

You perch your head back onto his shoulder to watch him scroll through the options. He stumbles on a beautiful looking one, less than a 10 minute walk away. He looks to see if you approve.

He peers down to where you rest on his frame, smiling unwillingly at the sight of you. Your own eyes trailing up to meet his.

And he swears they linger on his lips. Just for a fraction of a second.

“Mh, what d’ya think.” He gets out, voice suddenly several octaves lower. Almost gravelly.

You almost audibly gulp at the sound of him. Hyperaware of his existence right now, you could nearly zone out thinking about the strength of his arm muscle that’s right now pressed against you.

“Yea… yea that looks amazing. And tomorrow, what time?” Your hands fiddle with themselves in your lap.

“How about 1, since you’re probably gonna wanna sleep in a bit.” He suggests, free hand pushing his curls from his eyes.

The way he knows you’re probably going to want to sleep in. God.

“I’m down.” (Bad)

A smile erupts over your face, and you almost forget that the clock is still ticking. That you only have so long left here.

Which ‘almost forgetting’ isn’t enough to stifle the urge to use it as some kind of yolo shit. Because that is unbelievably strong. Like why not just invite him to stay the night?

Maybe another glass of wine and you can gaslight yourself into cuddling him and just falling asleep. He wouldnt leave unless he had to, so it’s an almost flawless plan.

———

The plan infact, was flawless.

To say the least, he slept at yours. In your bed.

I mean you don’t really remember it, since you talked into the early hours of the morning and drank some more alcohol to really top it all off.

You woke up under the covers, still clutching onto Harrys side.

He was already awake, scrolling on his phone, seemingly unbothered by the fact your head had taken residency on his chest.

You take the initiative to glance at the time in the upper-right corner of his phone, a little shocked when it reads 11:47am.

You do groan at the morning light streaming in the windows immediately after seeing the time though.

“G’morning. D’ya have a headache?” He asks with what you can only assume is the end of his morning voice. Which although just a taste, is enough to send you spiralling.

It’s also around now you realise he’s stripped down into boxers— still clad in his white shirt. What the fuck!

You struggle to form a coherent response.

“Morning. A little.” Your voice comes out as a hum.

Somehow, considering you’re cuddling him right now and you literally just slept in the same bed all night, both of you outwardly are quite relaxed about it.

Nothing is awkward. It feels lovely.

“I want a croissant so bad.” You huff, sitting up, stomach growling like as if you hadn’t eaten in a whole 24 hours.

“So, you’re the kind of person that’s hungry immediately after they wake up?” He laughs, hand coming to push the locks of your bed hair out of your face.

Outside of the sheer domesticity of that (which makes you literally have heart palpitations), your hair is a proper train wreck.

The humidity in Italy has made it horrific.

“I guess I am right now?” You reply to his previous ask, combing your fingers through the locks.

“Jesus Christ.” You curse at its uncooperativeness.

“Y’know that episode of friends where Monica complains about how the humidity fucks her hair, she was so right.”

“I love friends.” He immediately gasps, nearly jolting upright in excitement.

You laugh at his enthusiastic reaction, noting that you have to somehow find time over the next week to watch an episode or two with him.

“And if it’s any consolation, I think your hair looks great.”

“Yea well, it’s not like you’d really be able to relate to the frizzy hair. Since yours look so perfect all the time.” You joke.

This evokes a genuine flush on his face, “Alright, Y/N, calm it down.”

He’s laughing but you swear he actually looks a little flustered. Without the wine as a confidence booster, he seemed like suddenly he didn’t know how to take a compliment.

Unbelievable to you since he probably gets that many a day from strangers on the street.

“I, am going to get up and get ready then, so we can go out and eat.” You state, excited to be seemingly spending the majority of the day with him.

He holds back the urge to beg you to stay in bed with him, and says something nonchalant as if he doesn’t mind you getting up. But when you pad off to the bathroom he stares at your now empty space. And immediately shivers at the lack of your body warmth, despite the already warm humid weather.

After a few trips in and out of the bathroom you come out looking beautiful. And he has to get himself up and ready to go in attempt to not overthink it.

You craved his closeness the whole time it took you to prepare for the day. Every few minutes you’d get this almost overpowering urge to just go out there and throw yourself back into his arms.

It’s borderline pathetic. But now you’ve had him in your bed, his strong arms coddled around you, it’s very hard to not to be just that. His physical presence is perfect and comforting. You’re attached to that as much as any other aspect of him.

He puts on his pants, which were folded neatly on his own bedside table, plucking out the car keys in his pocket, “Im gonna nick down to my rental car, because I have an extra button up in there, so I’ll wear that out.”

He comes back and changes into said white button up, stripping his worn shirt off and leaving it somewhere.

Just like that, you’re ready to go, and you both decide to walk the short way there. It was too nice a morning to not.

The whole walk you’re chatting away as usual. But it’s paired with this newfound physical aspect. The way you so obviously want to be close it hurts.

Yet somehow you both act like it’s nothing. That the brushes of hands and shoulder as you’re in step beside each other is a simple coincidence.

And that when you get breakfast, the two croissants and shared cookie is just a friendly thing. In your head you’re even playing off the touching all throughout breakfast.

Which sounds dirty— but just the little conversational touches. Like a hand reaching out to touch a forearm in laughter, acting as if it adds something important to the moment being shared.

Or that somehow when you leave the cafe, with two takeaway cups of tea, the hands that end up interlinked softly between the two of you is just…

Well… who even knows anymore?

Because you’re walking through italy beside Harry— who is talking about his favourite kind of playground equipment, regardless of if he’s a near thirty year old man— all while holding your hand.

And to take a moment, because it’s important, his hands are everything they’re talked up to be. Littered with chunky rings and calloused fingertips from the years of guitar playing. Yet contrasted by his soft palms, which cups yours with this delicateness it almost brings a tear to your eye.

You also pray that your own hand isn’t sweating profusely in his grasp, because you wouldn’t put a clammy hand past yourself. The already humid weather paired with your anxiety surrounding this whole situation is quite literally the match made in hell.

Nothing about this can be passed off as casual to your brain anymore. You’re literally about to implode.

But you strive to hide it. So you solider on.

“I’m a seesaw girl okay. Hear me out—“

“No, I can totally see that!” He interjects, and you chuckle at his quick agreement to your statement.

“Right? They are so much fun. And even though I nearly took a tooth out playing on one when I was 7, I can still recognise they are superior.”

To that he laughs and bumps his shoulder into yours, “I mean I love that. I’m probably a swing person, I feel like no matter the age I will always be down for it.”

You can agree that a swing is a solid second favourite for you. And as you talk about that point with him, you don’t realise you’ve walked the whole ‘scenic’ route back to your hotel until you turn the corner and the entrance is around the corner ahead. And the way you went usually takes an extra 20 minutes.

It went so fast.

“Are you gonna head off or… come back up with me?” You ask gingerly, the hand not interlaced with his fiddling with the fabric of your clothing.

“Not sick of m’yet?”

“Never…” You shake your head, smiling as he gleams at your answer.

“M’flattered. The feelings mutual love,” he chuckles, “However I do have to go remind my family I’m alive. But it’ll only take about a day until they’re pleased for me to ditch them.”

Gently runs his thumb over your knuckles, whether it be subconsciously or not, “So tomorrow night ill come back over to yours for dinner if you y’want?”

You smile, a little sappy over the way he’s working a plan out like you’re both teenagers, “Yea, thats perfect, and we can try something else off the menu.”

“Maybe, if you want,” he begins carefully, “after that you can come over to where we’re staying. Meet my mum and sister. They’ll love you.”

Now you’re nearly bursting at the seems, “Oh, I would love that, H!”

“Okay, it’s a plan then.” He agrees, pulling his keys from his pocket.

You bid your farewells for the night, unlinking hands and being left with a tingling sensation in it, one that you wonder if he’s also getting.

You go to your hotel room and feel full with joy.

He is all too sweet for this world. And you’re a little obsessed.

———

Although Italy being in Italy feels like being in a bubble, and like you’re so far away from the real world, it is unfortunately a purely mental one.

And there’s one thing about a headspace like that, and it’s just how quickly it can be popped.

At midnight that night a notification pops up on your phone, one that when you open, you have to physically put your phone down.

harryflorals:

what do i even caption this post because is that who i think it is or am i officially delusional? “HARRY WITH A FAN FROM THE LAST SHOW, HOLDING HANDS IN ITALY!” correct me if I’m wrong YALL idek anymore.

And this time, there’s no grain saving your ass. Because this was taken on what, quality wise, looks like a digital camera.

Which has made it so painstakingly obvious that it’s you. And you don’t even remember it being taken?

It was when you were walking back from the cafe, holding hands probably talking about fucking seesaws.

And everyone has caught on fast, because in the comments it’s an all out frenzy.

So, cats officially out of the bag.

———

y’all can expect a part four considering i lowkey left this on a cliffhanger 😝 so its on its way my loves

update: next part, PART 4!

taglist:

@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @Iquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss @hsstylesrings @saturnheartz @victoriasigaard @lilfreakjez @mrsvxder @skxawngs @theekyliepage @hannah9921 @shiffpring @multifandomsw @roslastyles420 @slutforcoffein @kittenhere @stylesfever @butterfly-lover @daniizstyles @padf00ts-l0ver @sunflowervol18

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love

[answrs]

Readmores And You - A Really Great Tumblr Feature!

(this is technically directed at stuff I've seen in a specific tag because of the content of said tag makes it more likely to spoiler things, but it applies to anyone likely learning the ins and outs of a new site. speaking of which, hello! welcome to tumblr!) (this got. longer than anticipated. apologies, I get bogged down in trying to make things as clear as possible. ^^")

I've seen this a lot recently in the VC tags especially, where the post goes something to the effect of "tw bloody animal!" then like six periods and the images of whatever dead thing the post is about.

I recognize this is probably being carried over from some other website (...reddit probably? maybe insta?) but please. I appreciate y'all so much for trying to do what you're doing. but this method of hiding pictures isn't effective on tumblr, but there is an infinitely better option!

"but why? it works fine on other sites?" firstly, a few extra lines typically don't even take up enough space on mobile (let alone desktop) to hide your pics, so even at a glance anyone is likely still seeing at least the top half of whichever picture you posted before even noticing the trigger warning on top. second, because you have to scroll all the way past the images at the bottom of your post anyway to get to the next one on your dash/in the tag/etc. so if someone comes across your post and the trigger warning is applicable as something they want to avoid, unless they have access to a keyboard to use a keybind shortcut that ive been here 12 years and still cant remember, they can't see any other posts after it without either having to scroll through the pics or outright block you. which is... not the most ideal of options I would say.

"but what else am I supposed to do then!?" I hear you ask.

READMORES!

tumblr has a wonderful feature known as a "readmore" that's built into the site! it creates a break in your post, which hides any content - be it words, images, whatever - that you place underneath it, not showing it unless the person viewing it clicks on the words "keep reading" (formerly "read more" - hence the name :D).

Cool, how do I do that?

on mobile you can place one by tapping an empty line and clicking the grey squiggle icon from the selection that allow you to insert an image/vid/link

which will place a squiggly line into the post you're making:

(desktop uses the same icon, it's just in a more compact row of icons.)

you can drag it around after placing it too, just like photos. (note: mobile can get finicky with this and it's usually just easier to remove it -click the big red X- and add it in the new place you want it.)

EDIT: some of the versions of mobile editor are broken and don't show the icons. to add it in manually type ":readmore:" (with the colons, but not the quotation marks) on its own line. Thank you for the reminder, LovingTogetic!

this is also a nice way to keep your blog tidy and not swamped in long and/or spoilery posts (say if you're posting 5k word fics, or extensive meta, or gushing over the ending of the latest game or TV show most people probably haven't seen yet)! it's not required, obviously, but it's generally considered a common courtesy for others that will be seeing your post cross their dashboard.

finally, an example of the readmore in action:

(ta-da!)

have fun out there y'all, I hope this is helpful ^^

as an aside (I wasn't sure where to put this but under the break seemed appropriate), you may also see a lot of personal/vent posts be fully under readmores as well, even if the post is only a sentence or two long. this is mostly so followers don't necessarily see it unless they specifically click, but there's a more frustrating history to it becoming a thing: when a post is reblogged, any content above the break is permanently frozen as it existed at the time, but anything under it will reflect edits made to the post. while not common, a certain type of user sometimes browse the various "do not rb" tags and will purposefully reblog personal posts in order to upset and distress the users. putting those things under a readmore make it so even if that happens, the text can be deleted from all iterations of the post. recently the site rolled out an option to lock a post to reblogs, but you gotta mess with the settings and it's mostly a habit after a decade here dealing with the nonsense.

[vnyverse]

A/n: sorry if this feels rushed, I’m wanting to be consistent but I’ll still be editing this!

Being childhood friends, and on top of that, having Yuna as your originally betrothed wife, it was easy for anyone to see that they shouldn’t mess with her, or you’d see it through that they’d get it from you. It could be a simple little busted lip or a good old pinky removal with a refreshing alcohol soak. All changed however with her father’s passing, as no one else within her family held a position in the gang, other than her cousin, Ryujin, and it was decided that you’d have the final say as to who you’d like to marry, as heir apparent to the gang and the family fortune. You didn’t let this translate to any form of controlling yuna’s life, she was free to do whatever she liked-date, pleasure or love.

Driving past every streetlight on the highway, the bursts of bright light seemed to coincide with every beat of what was blasting through the speakers, yet tension hung in the air as neither of you looked at each other for the entire ride, let alone share words with one another. Riding shotgun, her slow blinks into the faraway cityscape seem to be a mirror of how her desire for material wealth had her discard all exclusivity in your relationship. It wasn’t like you couldn’t live without her either, really, as time passed there were no labels on your relationship and you could have girls over with a simple text, but something about this girl was just so enchanting. You admired her confidence, and as a child you’d always blush when she called you her wife, you still do when the the term is jokingly brought up by her on occasions she was drunk and you were her desired chauffeur.

A mistake was made. Letting your ego get the best of you, one phone call and some secretly taken pictures uploaded by yuna’s friend yeji, had you seriously regret your actions, hence the sudden meet up with yuna. One quiet dinner later, you knew you messed up. Her gaze no longer hung onto you like it used to, and her hands seemed to just have been on her lap for the whole of dinner when they’d normally be rested on the table-another sign of her discomfort.

Now you wished the blindingly bright red street light could for once be brighter and just permanently impair your vision, deprive you of sight and erase your existence. A chrome silver supercar pulls up beside your vehicle, with its owners’ haughty eyes eagerly eyeing yuna, and before long red turns green, the very girl beside you rolls the window down and smiles, and your surroundings seemed to blur, as you remember that was the very playboy she used to fool with for an allowance. You sometimes couldn’t help but wonder about what exactly you were. Best friends? Platonic soulmates? Friends with benefits?

Sure, the douchebag of a loser had money, some two block hairstyle that was styled the same way as half of Korea, and a nice car, but what exactly was so special about him? Yuna couldn’t do any better? Surely she could, you were right beside her, was she too blind to notice?

Yuna’s expression however turns into one of discomfort as he sticks his tongue out and taunts her, calling her degrading names. “Dirty whore” was what you heard, following her instinctive grabbing your arm for comfort, despite her unconsciously digging her nails a little harder than usual into your dress shirt, that was all you needed to give in to her and her antics and put a stop to what was a perceived Cold War between both of you.

Speeding off to your apartment, you comfort the girl with greater confidence, assuring her that you’d make sure that small fry would be gone within the next few days. Placing your thumb below her eyelids to wipe away her tears, you listen to her sniffling as she felt dirty, ashamed, as she has had no choice to mingle with men so as to gather intel for the gang. Removing your coat, you place it over her, interlocking your fingers with hers, not before pressing a chaste kiss on her fingers. Her hands soft like feathers, yet her nails digging into you gave you a little pain. Surely you could do something to better comfort her, or so you thought, you weren’t wrong, for what came later would be often reviewed in your memory.

Before long, you had arrived at your apartment, but now long elegant fingers pulled at your garment as you tried to park the vehicle.

“What’s wrong yun” spilled out your mouth, her blatant stoning at your face while you were trying to park the Maybach was worrying, but what was more worrying was that you notice her nails have been chewed- another bad habit she had when she felt anxious or helpless.

“Are you really going to marry yeji?”

“Do you not want me to marry her? Besides, where’d you hear that from?”. It was nonsense, you knew deep within that yuna would be on your mind even if you married yeji, and besides, you hadn’t an interest in yeji as comparable as you did in yuna. She brought out whatever good was left in you, a rarity considered you’d lived a life of sin. Killings, contracts, and intoxication weren’t exactly any good, but necessary for business. Drawing smiles from you and convincing you to do good on your own terms made you sure she was the one you wanted to marry.

“No, you know I don’t like sharing my wife with others.”

This time around however, she didn’t seem to be joking. She brushes her bangs aside, mustering up all her courage to place her lips on yours, while removing her coat, placing arms around your torso, in a fashion that seemed impatient, yet eager. You reciprocate, hand gently carding into her scalp to pull her deeper into the kiss, your free hand roaming on her thighs. Her porcelain like pale skin was smooth and tender, almost as if she would disintegrate of you so much as give her thighs a squeeze. It didn’t though, as you swiped your thumb over her thigh, gave it a reassuring squeeze and broke away from the kiss.

“Adorable, she’s the possessive sort.” you thought. Now you were no stranger to the degree of her jealousy, but you very often struggled to decipher the solution to her anger.

You were young, but being in a criminal organization had honed your ability to judge human relations, and you wouldn’t be more sure you wanted to be with yuna. Her presence breathes life into you, she quite literally settles internal issues when you’re away, pulls you to meetings with rival gangs, and still does chores for you just as she did years ago, even though you both know she doesn’t have to.

My eyes are up here, you thought. The confident girl you admired had now turned into a pathetic mess, hiding her face in your scarf, not knowing what to do. She honestly didn’t know where to look, like she’d been melting under your skin.

Back in your apartment, she helps herself to some aged wine. There’s an observed familiarity with your apartment- she knows where everything is, the wine glasses, the calligraphy ink, even the important contracts and something about it drives you crazy, seeing the girl of your dreams all domestic, yet able to appear so powerful at times. You loved pampering her, but you’d never tell her, justifying your bias toward her as following through with her father’s deathbed wish to have you take good care of yuna.

With a swift snap, you remove your belt and prepare to wash up, silently agreeing on yuna taking your bed while you take the sofa, just like how it’s always been when you were kids. Hair now all tousled, you return to the bedroom with yuna dressed in your white dress shirt, but all you could see was how cute she looked in oversized clothing.

“y/n, I hate to be a bother, but, hey, do you still remember the promise you made when we were kids?”

Oh, she was getting there.

But of course you remembered, the innocent promise to take her as your wife on her fifth birthday before you even knew what love meant. You promised to treasure her for as long as life goes, cater to her every want and need, ensure she never gets hurt. Had you seen to it as strictly as you should’ve, the said girl might have cried lesser tears. Forgetting material wealth and status, it sometimes seemed like you were never a fit to her. You secretly wished she could marry a decent person that would make her happy, and most importantly, bring stability in her life, as she had went through too many situations that could’ve been prevented. Being part of a gang had its dangers, and this was an obvious fact you tell newcomers, but when it came to yuna you felt like you would take a bullet for her. It seemed like she caught ahold of your introspection, as your eyes couldn’t betray your thoughts. She sees the slightest delay in your straightening of posture, gaze downward as you try to remove your tie, but she steps in before you dwell on the matter any further.

“good, so you remember.” Was what was implied through her gentle smile. Without hesitation, she takes small strides toward you, and helps you with removing your tie. You entertain her actions, training your eyes on hers. She loved to put on shows for you, and it evidently was time, she thought, to put one on now. Tie now forgotten and laying on the ground, as if an accessory for the very marble flooring, you pull yuna in by the sterling silver necklace you gifted her on her fifteenth birthday, and with sensuality like never before she places her hands on your chest, slowly gliding up, before pausing for a brief moment to unbutton her top before pushing you down to the bed behind you.

Big doe eyes on you, showing innocence and want, yet the upward curve of the corner of her lips challenged you to do something about the situation. Moving your hand to her hips, you give her a tight squeeze before she now sits down on you, now biting her bottom lip while looking at you like an obedient puppy. One that was now of all times acting tame, when her usual behavior was anything but behaved. Placing your palm under the dress shirt, the pearl colored linen rides up her toned torso, and hardened nipples poke into your palm. Already so worked up? Drawing slow circles to her areola, giving the bud an occasional squeeze or two worked out airy breaths from the girl, which unfortunately meant that her nails were digging into your back and deep red lines would appear on your back the following day, not that you minded though, maybe they’d make a nice accessory. Your free fingers stretch her pretty mouth out, something you had been thinking of doing for some time, to see how the tongue she likes to stick out so much when she smirks feels, as she tries to control her euphoric reaction but to no avail, biting down harshly on your finger, leaving drool trailing down your wrist, eyes rolled back into the caves of her sockets, possibly ascending to the highest of heavens, or conversely perhaps down to the deepest depths of hell with how she indulges in pleasure.

Now it was time to address the heat blooming between her thighs, which had her thrust into you like an animal in heat. Angling herself such that her bare neck was on full display, you take the chance to decorate your canvas. Leaving little purple reddish clouds with your teeth, with your canines dragging across her fair, milky skin, you moved your attention below before you got too preoccupied with marking her up. Now she was a grunting mess, yet at a loss for words as she seemed to only speak with her eyes, expecting you to decipher a “fuck me already” from a frown, gaze lowered to meet yours and fluttery lashes.

Deciding to finally give in, your fingers take an extra shift to find their way into her now sopping panties, and work like a machine, making languid thrusts that ended with a curl of the fingers, feeling for the spongy tissue that drew out something between a high pitched whine and a scream from the girl before you. Before long, she calls out for your name, and hides her visage in your hair, ragged breaths approaching you in the form of whimpers and heat. With each thrust you feel her grip on your back tightening, the very veins on her neck more prominent, complementing the already purple-red patches on her neck you could say you were proud of.

Her chest rises and falls quick, a signal she was fragile, maybe short of a thrust or two before seeing stars. You let her ride it out, and reciprocate, making a scissoring action with your fingers to stretch her cunt out, at the same time praising her for taking your fingers so well. She clenches against your fingers, thighs threatening to collapse and you take in her ruined state. If looks could kill, you’re sure you would’ve been killed multiple times over- her dark velvet lips accompanied by sweat hanging on her temple, the gentle slope of her nose bridge, long lashes appearing longer than usual when her eyes are closed all point to a fucked out, red faced yuna, a sight that would give anyone a nosebleed. You swear she had drawn blood from your back, now with the very same crimson that harmonized in long lines across your body. You could never deny her anyway.

It seems like she’d never been stretched out and pleasured this well, seeing that she remains unmoving, deep in your embrace, panting not dying down anytime soon. Giving her a few teasing slaps to her cunt, she twitches, and she recovers, now gazing intently at you, lethargy hanging in her face, yet she manages a sly smile and a lick of her parched lips.

“Satisfied, angel?”

[vyragosa]

could write paragraphs about anything for no reason of course but about the ear biting

the fact that not only is it still not that well-known of a fact that it surprises many, that many years after the game release, and essentially triggered only if you go against the narrative flow “refusing to attack higgs and only blocking”

a final waltz playing with beautiful violin, the consequences of a refusal to fight leaving a permanent mark on sam with no signs of healing at all and continuing to play the game with the mark of a mangled ear in plain sight

the subsequent defeat of higgs being known as something inevitable by both the player and most likely, by higgs himself hence his own refusal to fight any longer only shortly after, it’s less of a fight for dominance and more of measuring the lenghts the other would go to rail against the inevitable on a personal level rather than on an extinction level

so higgs leaving such a mark purposefully, knowing his own defeat would come, implying the certainty that sam would survive

you don’t exactly aim to leave a mark of yourself on someone you believe would disappear alongside you.

[bloxfruitsvalues]

Sand Blox Fruit Value

About No Content Blox Fruit

The Sand fruit is a rare Elemental-type acquired from the game Blox Fruits. Making its debut on the 7th of July, 2019 under the name “sand update”, it gained popularity because it can be used for both pvp and grinding. It can be bought from a blox fruit dealer the Sand Blox Fruit Value is 420,000 Beli or 850 Robux (in-game currency). While unawakened sand might not be strong in pvp alone, it has elements which makes it useful for farming. On the other hand, awakened sand greatly improves it by giving wider range higher damage faster speed, longer stun and more flexible move sets thus making it good at both PvP and bounty hunting.

Pros & Cons

Normal No Content Blox Fruit Pros

Immunity to Elements: Blocks most basic attacks. Good against bosses that need grinding: Stuns and deals decent damage. Easy to get: Uncommon makes it relatively cheap

Awakened No Content Blox Fruit Pros

Great for PvP and Bounty Hunting: Buffs moves and adds flexibility. Better Mobility: None of them are restricted to the ground. Instinct Breaker: Every move can break an opponent's instinct.

Normal No Content Blox Fruit Cons

Weakness towards water type enemies: 2x damage unless you have shark race Poor mobility: No dash ability or double jumps etc.

Awakened No Content Blox Fruit Cons

Same weakness as regular one: 2x damage if hit by enemy using water moves Still lacks powerful mobility: Despite some improvements being made in this area Not Effective Against Teamers: Struggles when outnumbered by opponents

No Content Blox Fruit Value

Whether physical or permanent versions, there is a significant difference between these two kinds’ prices. Physical version costs 420k beli which falls under tier C fruits hence considered cheap. Aspects like its demand being low among players who rate it 2/10 and the continuous decline in its value reflect this categorization. Nonetheless, the physical fruit is undervalued since people no longer find much use for them thus reducing their popularity and usefulness within the game overtime. On the flip side permanent sandy is valued at 5500k beli which is high compared to other fruits. The demand is moderately estimated by 5/10 scores showing that there are still few individuals interested in buying it frequently. Value changes slowly but more stable than when dealing with physical quantity counterparts but still overrated because an individual may pay higher than necessary amounts for such items during gameplay. This could be due to realization among players about how much stronger they become once awakened thereby enhancing abilities relevant to different fights.

Final Words

Blox Fruits’ sand power-up occupies a distinct position within this game owing mainly just elemental properties as well potentiality towards getting awakened. Although the unawakened variant can help one save money while grinding or engaging basic pvp, the awakened one has greater enhancements thus making it more expensive and slightly demanded too. However both types possess certain weaknesses especially regarding their mobility besides being easily defeated by water attacks. Therefore appreciating intricate sand blox fruit values shall enable better choices in terms of acquiring and using them throughout playtime Read the full article

[fluffypotatey]

alright so. the block man infodump

so, this story begins in march (?) 2021. it’s a beautiful day, sun is shining, and minecraft youtuber grian announces a new series called third life, where he and his friends play a modified hardcore world together in which each of them has three lives. on your first and second lives, you are not allowed to initiate pvp, but on your third life (aka red life) (each of the “lives” correspond to traffic light colors, hence the fan nickname traffic life series) your goal is now to kill other players. since then, four other iterations of this series have been released, each with their own gimmick.

when a player in this series dies while on their red life, they are permanently out, and their series ends. and in every season, the same player has died first every time: jimmy (username solidaritygaming). once was sad. twice was embarrassing. after three times, we started joking about a curse. and by the fourth season, we were theorizing in earnest (this being despite the random and unscripted nature of these series- his deaths were essentially due to a combination of tunnel vision and bad luck. fandoms just love pulling narratives out of our asses). and now, finally, something monumental has happened: his curse has finally broken. he wasn’t the first to lose his final life.

he was, however, the second, and he only got about ten minutes to celebrate his finally defeating the curse before his own series ended as well.

(and, of course, now that he’s broken this string of bad luck the fandom is now scrambling to justify it in terms of the fanon narrative that we made up. which is equal parts funny and frustrating bc that means that lizzie’s (username ldshadowlady; the player who died first and broke jimmy’s curse) death is made all about someone else, and her story is already sad enough as it is) (but that’s a story for another time when i’m not sleepytired 👍)

well obviously the curse works the same way lives work in this traffic light world but just in reverse

[praglechiropracticblog]

Chiropractic care vs pain medications: Which one is the right approach?

After a long day at work, you get a stiff back and find it hard to sleep. So like every normal human being, you open the medicine cabinet and take a painkiller to get a goodnight’s sleep. 

A Pain-reliever pill offers immediate relief and makes you ready for another hectic day at work. However, you need to keep in mind that life is full of challenges and every other day you get to experience some sort of body pain. Is it appropriate to take a painkiller daily before bed or you should consider finding a Tallahassee pain chiropractor for a natural pain-management approach?

Let’s discuss what are the pros and cons of pain medications and chiropractic care and which one is the right choice for you.

What are the benefits of taking painkillers?

Pain medications are highly effective in reducing pain sensations.

These drugs immediately block the pain signals and make you feel better.

Painkillers are easily available and can be used to relieve pain immediately.

What would be the possible harm if I take painkillers daily?

If you take painkillers daily, these drugs can cause gastrointestinal problems.

Long-term consumption of NSAIDs can also cause permanent damage to the kidneys.

Beware if you take opioids for pain relief, these can be addictive. 

Other risks of taking pain medications every day include constipation, nausea and respiratory problems.

What are the advantages if I choose the best rated chiropractor near me?

A massage therapist chiropractor gently uses their hands to manipulate your spine. If you are in pain, book a session for chiropractic adjustments. Spinal adjustments and manipulations are highly beneficial:

It is a drug-free approach to pain management, hence it is a safer treatment choice.

Along with pain relief, chiropractic sessions are equally beneficial for your joint mobility and muscle tension.

Routine chiropractic care is even helpful in improving your posture which reduces the risk of future pain and injuries.

It is a natural healing process suitable for people of all age groups. 

What are the potential risks or side effects of chiropractic care?

Chiropractic care is a drug-free, natural, safe and side effect free approach to pain management. Generally, there are no potential risks associated with their treatment choice. However, mild soreness or discomfort at the treatment site can be experienced for a while.

The known complication of chiropractic care is nerve damage, which is very rare. Make sure to find a highly experienced Tallahassee pain chiropractor to get top-notch treatment. Chiropractic care should only be given by a highly trained and experienced chiropractor. Lack of experience may increase the chances of complications, so make an informed decision and choose the best chiropractor. 

Final verdict

If you need immediate pain relief, you may occasionally take medicine. However, for chronic pain, regular consumption of painkiller drugs can be fatal. The correct approach is the holistic care provided by a chiropractor. They don’t just work on the root cause but also help in reducing future injuries. 

When you search for the best chiropractor near me, you get recommendations from Dr. Eric at Pragle Chiropractic Clinic. He is a highly experienced chiropractor in Tallahassee offering best-in-class treatment for neck pain, back pain, shoulder pain, whiplash injuries and headaches. 

[thatyamiguy-blog]

Busted little reaper (bleach)

Life just wasn't fair. it was a fact that had been pounded into Ichigo over and over again in his life and even though he had done more then a few things to right the scales, to be a champion of justice there was just no fighting it: every now and then life was just a shit sandwich and you were forced to take a bite. If he had ever doubted that fact before, after today it would be driven home permanently in his brain as Ichigo was about to go on a roller coaster ride of sorts, going from massive ups to massive downs.

The day was a shitty one for the most part, between having to go and waste his lunch hour killing a bunch of hollows and thus missing out on trying out a new burger place and then getting hit with both a pop quiz and getting a book assignment back and getting not even a fail, a note to do it again and to actually read the book this time. Add in Rukia and Orihime becoming closer and closer and always looking at him and giggling and Ichigo was more then ready to just go home and bury his face in his bed and sleep the rest of the damn day away, only to find a box in his room. "Your dad said it showed up sometime this afternoon and then warned me if I opened it before you could he'd duct tape me to the back of the toilet again.. Not that I needed that threat, I'm a nice guy who would of respected your privacy." Kon said, mashing away on a controller and playing some sort of dating sim game.. the closet the plush could get to getting laid. the controller required a certain amount of force and Kon's plush body made that hard to pull off hence the mashing. "you can lie your ass off all you want, I'm not setting up a date and letting you take over just so you can try and get some. Last time I almost got put on a list.." Ichigo said, coming over and starting to open the box and then getting a look inside and closing it quick, a HUGE grin on his face. "You need to get the fuck out of here, Now!" "Jesus who pissed in your co-" Kon started to say, then the plush found himself being picked up by the back of the head and being hurled out of the window, sailing away and clearing at least a block if not more, a cry of he'd remember this fading away as Ichigo closed the window and drew his blinds shut. Rushing back over to the box and a quick glance to make sure his door was closed, Ichigo started to pull the contents of his order from Yami Corp. out of the bulky box, having not expected said delivery for anther 2 weeks! "Things are finally looking up for a change!" Ichigo coo'ed, not realizing how badly he was tempting fate as he tugged out not only just a light blue onesie/diaper shirt that the bottom had LOAD's of room for puffy bottoms and hard big over sized snaps on the crotch AND a pair of light blue booties with a matching set of mittens.. he ALSO took out a huge package of Yami Corp. super crawlers. the package looked big enough to hold at least 20 of any other normal adult baby diaper and much more then that if just a legit adult diaper for incontinence, but instead the package held a mere 6 diapers but there were massive and promised that there was no way any little who wore them would be able to waddle more then a few steps without falling down. the price was insane for just six diapers but Ichigo knew he wasn't going to get THAT many chances to indulge this side of him and had gone with a 'go big or go home' mentality when it came to this, though this would be his first time in actual baby gear and diapers, not just making use of towels and safety pins. He had been bummed out when he had gone to order the clothes and they didn't have any black in stock, but given the choice between Cotton candy pink or baby blue, he'd figured he'd made the right call. there was other goodies in the box as well, a large Yami Corp. mute button brand pacifier, with a strap you could attach to make it a paci gag and the nipple was nice and big with some holes in it and a screw cap on the front of it, you could open it and put in tiny soaps so the big baby would be getting a constant mouth washing and had come with a sample bottle of 5 soaps. Ichigo thought about making use of them and the strap but for now he'd just nurse on the paci like a good baby of his own free will. Laying out one of the MASSIVE diapers and sliding his clothes off Ichigo paused for a moment, realizing that while he had ordered A LOT of things, including a sample bottle of some mad lax, he hadn't ordered baby powder. "..eh, I can tank getting smacked around by a hollow the size of a skyscraper.. I can handle a little diaper rash." he said, unwilling to take the time to put his clothes back on and go and get the baby powder out of the bathroom. Naked and shivering slightly from excitement Ichigo plopped down on the diaper and took 4 of the 10 mad lax pills dry (and ignoring the warning to only take two at a time) and then letting out a stream of baby babble from excitement he tapped the diaper on and just closed his eyes, hands on the front of it and and rocking back and forth for a few seconds in total bliss.. and unaware that this was all gonna come crashing down very soon.

Reniji was both understanding of the girls plight and frowning as he listened to what Rukia and Orihime were telling him, about how the two had slowly fallen for each other and how well, Ichigo wasn't much of a boyfriend, he always seemed wrapped up in his own thing and would put a wall up when asked about it. Rukia who had shared a room with him (Via his closet) had noticed it as well, and had head him saying weird and strange things in his sleep but even as a close friend she had to agree he wasn't a good boyfriend and well, the two just felt RIGHT when they were together. He was with them outside of a small café about 2 blocks or so from Ichigo's and had listened to them before giving his opinion. "Still, While I totally get it and you two ARE cute together, you really need to tell Ichigo about what's going on so he's not blindside by th-" Reniji started to say, only to get smacked in the back of the head by Kon and make him end up splashing his hot coffee on his shirt and jump up shouting and trying to tug it away before it scalded his chest while the girls rushed over to Kon. "Oh you poor thing! Are you ok?" Orihime asked, cradling Kon up and hugging him, making the Plush squeal with delight as his face was forced into her boobies. "What's going on, is Ichigo under attack?" Rukia asked, tugging his head back and giving him a look. "OH YEAH, MAKE SURE -HE'S- ALRIGHT!! I'LL JUST SUFFER OVER HERE IN SILANCE!!" Reniji growled. "You never do anything in silence.. Orihime, go heal the big baby while I find out what's going on." Rukia said, unaware of the irony of her words.

Blissfully unaware that he would be having visitors soon, Ichigo instead was finding out that getting diapers as big as he had and trying to get the onesie on by himself wasn't as easy as he had assumed it would be. In a battle that left him winded and sweating a little Ichigo flopped back, looking up at the ceiling after FINALLY getting the crotch snaps done up. "Jesus Christ.. I think I had a easier time killing Aizen then getting that on!!" he huffed, wondering about maybe trying to get someone to help him with it next time. A quick mental montage of trying to decide who to ask and all of it ending the same, with whoever he asked just pointing and laughing and Ichigo decided that he'd just get smaller diapers next time, as for the rest of this pack he'd go unsnapped. Spotting the booties and mittens across the room Ichigo realized just how bad he'd been squirming and rolling around trying to get the crotch snaps done up and gave a sheepish grin, then stood up and went to walk over to go and get them.. and made it all of 3 steps before falling down on his massive diapered bottom with a eep and a sweat drop. "Heh, oh yeah.. Man, talk about a product that lives up to it's hype.." Rolling onto his hands and knees and feeling his tummy start to rumble and gurgle, Ichigo crawled over as fast as he could to the mittens and booties and with a bit of effort (due to his MASSIVE diapered rear) managed to get the booties on and then the gloves, making a mental note to put the bootie on first next time. 'Heh.. This is both fun AND a learning experience!' Ichigo thought as he got back on all fours and wiggled his butt, then caught a look at himself in the mirror. Looking back at him was a big silly baby with a massive diaper butt and a red face and Ichigo couldn't help but break out into giggles and started to chat at his own reflection even as he tried to get his paci in his mouth only to find the mitten made his hands useless. "You, are just a total goo goo gaga big dumb baby and deserve to be trapped in diapers and remain a widdle virgin cuck! you don't need a girlfriend or even a boyfriend, you want a caretaker who'll keep you right where you belong!" he giggled, getting the paci set up so the nipple was pointing up and bent his head down taking it in his mouth. As he bent down the cramps hit a high note and Ichigo who had experimented with laxatives before and found most of them to be (Pardon the pun) utter shit, realized that Yami Corp mad lax was once again a product that lived up to it's hype. As a series of gross wet farts erupted out of his bottom, they were muffled by the thick diapers though they somehow didn't hide in the stink at Yami Corp. prided itself on it's anti stink guard tech, knowing that far more big dumb babies wanted to suffer their own stink then didn't want to. And since only the biggest and dumbest babies or a kind but teasing dom would offer these kinda diapers, they believed in giving the customer what they wanted. Sweat was pouring off of Ichigo's face as he started to unleash a massive mess in the seat of his diaper, quickly filling them up and sucking hard on the paci as he spread his legs more and pointed his butt up, his forehead on the floor as he took the single biggest dump of his life and halfway though started to wonder if he'd even have fucking bones left!! The diaper, despite having more then enough room one would of assumed to handle a mess, managed not to leak but at the cost of puffing out rapidly as Ichigo put it though a bigger stress test then it had gone under back at the factory and as he slowly finished up, the crotch of the onesie was staining, formally white diaper (now a ugly brown) was poking though the cracks. Wheezing and exhausted, Ichigo weakly pushed himself up, paci still in his mouth and debating crawling over into bed and he went to turn around.. and turned to see Orihime, Reniji holding Kon and Rukia watching him, all with a mixture of confusion and amusement on their faces. "..Soo.. you feel better now?" Orihime asked, sweat dropping. In response a final blort came out and the crotch of the onesie popped open, as the paci fell from Ichigo's mouth. "Sooo.. Is that a yes or a no?" Rukia asked, holding her nose and breaking into a huge grin.

The foursome had arrived not too long ago  and let themselves in via a spare key Rukia had 'forgotten' to give back and had made their way up to Ichigo's room, standing outside his door and hearing lots of fumbling about and a TON of crinkling coming from his room. "..what the hell is that?" Rukia asked, whispering and raising a eyebrow. "it sounds like.. but no way.." Reniji said, blushing a little and giving Kon a little hug. "Enough of this, let's bust him doing whatever it was that was sooo secret he had to chuck me like a football!" Kon growled softly. Opening the door and ready to yell surprise, they were instead all rendered speechless as Ichigo was talking to himself in the mirror, at such a angle he couldn't see them and hearing his little speech, the girls both broke into big smirks and Reniji blushed even worse, squirming a little. Before any of them could of even thought of saying anything though the big baby had destroyed the seat of his diapers, funking up the room and making the girls hold their noses and wave hands, Kon cover his nose and Reniji just took in deep breaths. "H-How much of.." Ichigo squeaked out, his paci falling out of his mouth and her got up on his knee and whined as the back of his diaper squished and smushed against his heels and legs. "We came in as you were talking to yourself." Rukia said, walking over to the window and opening the blinds and opening the window to Reniji's disappointment. "O-Oh..um.. W-would you believe me if I said this was.. A mind control thing?" Ichigo asked, bringing his mittened hands together and Reniji realized with delight he was trying and failing to poke his fingers together. "Heh, Nope. Not at all. Buttt I have to say, this kinda works out Ichigo!" Orihime said, going to walk closer to Ichigo and wrinkling her nose as the smell got even worse the closer she got and retreating back a few steps. "O-Oh? Are you.. a mommy dom?" Ichigo asked hopefully. "Not q-" Orihime started to say but Reniji cut her off. "Before you say anything, the little guy should have his stuffie." Reniji said and started to walk over even as Kon realized what he meant and tried to tug himself free/claw his way out. "DON'T YOU DARE GIVE ME THAT THAT SHIT SWELLED BIG BABY! HE SMELLS WORSE THEN THREE OF HIS DADS HOUR LONG SHITS!! RENIJI I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL END Y-" Kon cried out, only to be muffled as Ichigo took the stuffed lion from him and hugged him deep to his chest then got a evil little grin on his face. "Kon, are you the reason the girl and Reniji knew to come here?" He asked. "I PLEAD THE FIFTH!" "I'ma take that as a yes. Time for smelly justice!" Ichigo giggled and as the girls watched on with disgusted horror and Reniji grinned with delight, Ichigo raised himself up a bit and then got Kon under his butt and planted it back down even as the poor stuffie screamed in terror. "Jesus, I've watched Hollows slowly rip apart reapers and I think that's the most horrible thing I've ever seen.." Rukia muttered, staying close to the window. "It's not horrible, it's cute!' Reniji argued and got a look from the girls who then shook their heads and went back to the original plan. "ANYWAYS.." Rukia started. "Ichigo we actually came over here to tell you something.. Me and Orihime have started dating and well, she's here to dump you, much like you dumped your diaper." "W-What?" Ichigo whined, jaw dropping and sagging down more, putting even more of his mush tush on Kon's face. "But it's all good! you wanted to be just a virgin big dumb baby and this way me and Rukia can be together all happy, and you get to make poo poo pampers! Everyone wins!" Orihime said, a big bright smile on her face, then a muffle cry for help was heard under Ichigo's butt. "er..almost everyone." "sooo yeah. She's dumping you, we're gonna be dating and I think we'll leave you alone to process that and .. don't worry. we won't tell anyone about this as long as you don't like, try and get us involved. I'm sure being dumped and having just poopie diapers is like, totally a thing for you anyways." Rukia said, coming over and taking Orihime's hand and they started to leave. "W-wait um.. can you maybe do ONE last thing before you leave?" Ichigo whimpered, blushing and squirming, looking down at the floor. "..Depends on what you ask, I'm not changing that diaper." Rukia said and looked over at her girlfriend, who nodded her head in agreement. "Yeah, no diapie changes." "C-Could you both.. Flip me off and call me a loser before you leave? Pretty please?" Ichigo asked. Reniji was all grins hearing that and nodded to the girls who both broke out into laughter and they nodded as well. "Well sure, I mean.." Rukia started. "We were just trying to be nice.. but as a last request I think it's MORE then doable!" Orihime finished. The pair cleared their throat then in stereo flipped Ichigo off and said. "SO long crinkles, have fun being a smelly LOSER!" and then they kissed while still flipping him off before walking out of his room and for the most part, out of his life. The effect on Ichigo was predictable, as he jerked and spasmed, having a hands free orgasm in his smelly diaper and as it ended he looked over at Reniji, who still hadn't left. "So.. Now that your single and in need of a caretaker.. How do you feel about a daddy dom?" Reniji asked, figuring there was really nothing to lose. "Uh.. R-Really?" Ichigo asked, figuring it was all just a joke as what he'd just done started to come crashing down on him. "Really real. I love big dumb stinkers like you and somebodies gotta look after you now." Reniji said, leaning down and ruffling Ichigo's hair. "Heads up though, I expect to be paid in hugs and kisses, Your never gonna get laid." he added with a wink. "heh.. W-watch me argue." Ichigo coo'ed and leaned up for a kiss, giving Kon just enough room to cry out even as the stinker and the new daddy smooched. "OK, THIS IS SWEET AND ALL, NICE KODAK MOMENT, BUT SOMEBODY GET THIS SHITTY DIAPER OFF OF ME, I'M GONNA SMELL LIKE A DIAPER PAIL FOR A WEEK!!" he cried out. Reniji, knowing Ichigo would be the type to like squishing his mess around AND wanting to keep the stuffie from ruining the moment, pressed Ichigo back down making the big baby giggle even as Kon sobbed.

The end.

[lovesthecure]

Being aplatonic makes mutuals kinda tricky sometimes apparently

[wincore]

romeo roulette | jung yoonoh

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader

summary: if finding your soulmate is the same as a damn game of russian roulette, you are determined to not pull the trigger at all. except, you know who your soulmate is and he doesn’t—and given a choice to pretend, you find that jaehyun is the lesser of the two burdens to bear.

genre: soulmate au, office au, fake dating, fluff (a lot), angst (a little), romcom, magical realism (??)

words: 21.2k

warnings: language

song recs: playlist here !

a/n: behold ! a kdrama compressed in a fic ! ok i was lying there was more than a little angst but all in good fun <3 i have never experienced working in an office (thanks to the panny) but i tried making it as accurate as i could !! hope you have fun with this <3

It’s not that you’ve never been looked at with a lover’s gaze, it’s just that whatever look Jaehyun has been giving you is mildly uncomfortable. It’s not supposed to be that way. Hell, even his hand clasping yours are a little too clammy for your liking.

Jung Yoonoh. Get your act together.

You wish he were a better actor than this. For someone used to eyes on him in each and every room he’s in, he’s not very good at making eye contact. You’ll be saving this performance. Not to stroke your own ego but at least you know how to behave under strong gazes.

There are three people staring at the two of you and your fingers intertwined, scrutinizing your postures and the expressions on your faces. Maybe Jaehyun should face them instead of glancing at you wordlessly. He’s a terrible liar for someone who acts so smooth. 

You look up with a short smile. The aforementioned three are your coworkers—former class rep at uni and your current boss Doyoung, your friend Soojin and Jaehyun’s friend Sicheng from IT. None of them look happy—like it concerns them. If there was a competition for nosy coworkers, this entire group would be winning awards left and right (and that’s including you). 

They’re going to find out, an annoying voice giggles inside the quiet corner of your brain. Like hell, they will. You didn’t take up acting lessons in college for nothing. You just need to focus on the details.

This whole charade dates its beginning to a week ago. 

If someone were to tell you Jung Yoonoh from marketing is your soulmate, you would most certainly either laugh or take it as a genuine insult. Hence, you were glad when you found that he isn’t. 

It was an accident. You had glimpsed at his soulmark, right below his collarbone, at a particularly wild office afterparty—and somehow, you thought it was fitting that his tattoo was a little red heart. For someone born on Valentine’s day (which you know from a night out with coworkers, not because you’re remotely interested), if his soulmark was not something as disgusting as a heart, it would be the textbook definition of irony. But then again, fate is a funny thing. Your soulmark is a heart roughly the same size, with a little more intricacy in the form of a piercing arrow.

Despite all, however, if someone were to ask you if Jung Yoonoh is the worst person to be your soulmate, the answer is no. You can name at least five coworkers off the top of your head that you’d choose him over. You would choose him over Doyoung (and especially his nagging), you would choose him over Taeyong because he’s too hot and you also don’t like men in a higher position than you are, you would choose him over Jungwoo because you suspect he’s secretly a furry. Jaehyun is certainly better than your deskmate Dongmin who, despite an angelic smile, is: a) too distant to make actual conversation with, and b) in a relationship despite being your soulmate. Sweet-tempered Dongmin doesn’t even know it’s you. You’d love to be the bearer of bad news but this one—you’re not exactly ready for it yourself.

So that’s the explanation for why you hunted down Jaehyun and in a desperate attempt to not seem pathetic, coerced him into a role that has carefully picked benefits for either of you. You just have to bite the bullet sometimes.

“And I get what out of this?”

“Me? Temporarily, that is.”

Jaehyun laughs in amusement and you drop your smile, almost offended. If you were a gift, you’d certainly be an attractive, spicy, hot one—he doesn’t have to look at you so incredulously. In a neat business suit, Jaehyun is as kempt as ever though his tie could do with some more work.  As an HR assistant, his appearance pleases you. However as a person, the perfection annoys the hell out of you. He could show himself to be more human. It would make your job (both the actual and the metaphorical) easier.

“I’m leaving,” he announces with a nonchalant exhale. “You keep messing around during work hours like this and people are going to think you’re jobless.”

“Wait!” 

You jog up to him and block his path, crossing your arms as you huff at his indignance. 

“I said no,” he repeats, and when he tries to evade you, you push him back with your palm flat against his chest. Jaehyun doesn’t show any more discomfort than usual, biting the inside of his cheek.

“You haven’t found your soulmate, right?” you say, taking a deep breath. If you have to resort to psychological warfare, so be it.

His smile wavers and he straightens, no longer leaning against the printer desk. “No. How does that matter?”

“It matters because you’re going to be my pretend-soulmate. Now, don’t be a pussy.”

He opens his mouth and closes it, furrowing his eyebrows. “You can’t always trick me into doing what you want.”

“I’ll ask Doyoung if you say no.”

“See—enough with the tricks, they don’t work anymore. I’ve known you for two years.”

“I really will ask him.”

“Not convincing enough. You don’t even talk to Doyoung outside work.”

You groan into your hand, taking a few moments to come up with another plan. How is your obvious charisma not enough? You certainly can’t tell him how rejected you feel with the whole Dongmin situation even if his rejection hasn’t officially come yet. It’s too embarrassing for a grown adult to go through. You don’t mind being lonely for the rest of your life if you’re successful. There’s a price tag on each decision you make anyway.

“I’ll treat you to lunch every day. I’ll pay.”

You cross your arms, tapping your foot in anticipation. They say the way to a man’s heart is through the stomach. Besides, Jaehyun hates spending his lunch money on himself. This ought to do something.

Jaehyun places his hand in front of his mouth in mock surprise. “Oh no, out of your beloved paycheck? That’s kind of scary, honestly.”

“Jaehyun. Stop messing around. I’m being serious.”

He purses his lips, hesitation across his face. You don’t like the way he thinks, with quiet, lost eyes and no clear giveaways on his lips.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

You smile in relief though you try somewhat to not let it show on your face. 

“On one condition.”

Your eyes dart across his face, nothing that tells what he might suggest next. You hate when you don’t get to decide on things.

“You have to come visit my family next month and pose as my soulmate—”

“No way.”

“—and when this whole game you’re playing is over, you’re going to say I rejected you.”

You stare at him, weighing the odds. 

“Fine,” you say finally, voice pitched in slight annoyance.

Jaehyun shrugs.

“But I tell my parents that I rejected you. Or they’ll come after you with a task force or something.”

You mutter the last part.

He grimaces, holding his breath for a good few seconds and then letting it go.

“Alright. It’s not like mine and your parents know each other—or will ever meet.”

“Fine then,” you say. “We have an agreement.”

“We have an agreement,” he repeats.

Now, back to more pressing matters. The people in front of you aren’t a stupid lot—even if you've seen Doyoung spend $500 on plush toys, seen Sicheng absentmindedly walk into a desk and pretend to not be in pain for the next five minutes and Soojin somehow convinced a senior to get her coffee because she thought he was an intern (in her defence, it worked). 

The only way is to act through. You clear your throat.

"We… we discovered it last week. Our signs match."

Technically, you drew an arrow with a permanent marker over Jaehyun's tattoo in an attempt to resemble yours. It's not awful, but perhaps not perfect. 

“Discovered? Like just happened to find out?” Doyoung asks.

“Isn’t Jaehyun’s on…” Soojin leans in to whisper hurriedly in your ear. “On his butt? Did you guys sleep together?”

You contort your face in disgust. “The what? What? Who told you that? And no.”

Soojin makes an ‘ah’ sound and leans back. “I should stop listening to office rumours then.”

"You should." You glare at her.

Sicheng is the only one without questions at the tip of his tongue but the look on his face worries you most. 

“I’ve never seen your tattoo, now that I think about it,” he muses, turning to Jaehyun. “Although we’re roommates.”

Jaehyun clears his throat, looking around with shifty eyes. "Why is… why is everyone looking so suspicious?"

"It's just… so sudden," Soojin says, looking around at the others.

"Yeah," Sicheng mutters.

"Soulmate fraud is a big deal too, you know that right?" Doyoung informs. "You could get put in jail."

You throw up your hands in exasperation. "Why would we pretend? We don't have any reason to. And, uh, you're sure about the jail thing?"

You look at Doyoung, hoping your question didn’t come off too squeaky. 

"You’re right,” he says, sighing. “It’s so unlikely for soulmates to work in the same company, let alone the same building.”

“Oh, yes, I’m so lucky,” you mutter under your breath.

Doyoung sighs. "Look, we're happy for you. It's just that… it's a little sudden."

"Literally what I just said," Soojin says.

"Literally what she just said," Doyoung agrees quickly, not wanting to pick a fight. Sometimes you wonder who the real boss is.

"Look, just because we don't even acknowledge each other or find each other remotely attractive or wouldn't even be each other's office Christmas card candidate—"

Jaehyun nudges your side with his elbow and gives you a look that seems a lot like "You're making it worse".

You clear your throat. "That's what happens to most soulmates! You think you're going to land the perfect one and boom. You get a chump from marketing."

Jaehyun makes a sound of protest. "I didn't want a snob from HR either."

The two of you glare at each other, and you find that clenching his jaw makes Jaehyun slightly (around 0.05%) more attractive, or at the very least more bearable to look at.

Doyoung gasps. "Okay, I get it. You're having adjustment issues. I know a guy for that. He's helped every newly found soulmate couple adjust with each other."

"We don't need that," you interrupt, offering your fakest smile.

"You do," Doyoung responds, his smile equally fake. "I'll drive you this weekend if you're free. He’ll give you one free session. No more, because we all know how capitalism works."

People have got to stop copying your fake smile. You wish you could have it copyrighted because after all, it’s the same smile that tricks interviewees into thinking they got the job. It’s not evil if you say it isn’t. You open your mouth, look at Jaehyun doing the same and when you can't come up with an excuse, give up and nod. 

"Don't look so resentful," Doyoung says, tone slightly complaining. "I'm not doing this as your boss. We were friends in college and I'm just doing you a favour. A friendly favour."

Soojin hums in deep thought. "I feel like this is some sort of nepotism."

"I feel like you should open a dictionary once in a while," Doyoung mutters, only to get a vaguely threatening look from Soojin.

"Anyway," Sicheng diverts, eyes curious when he turns to Doyoung. "Why did you call us here?"

"Ah." Doyoung's eyes widen. "I heard promotion rumours."

Sicheng lets out a loud huff of annoyance. "You summoned us here for company gossip?"

Doyoung crosses his arms. “So, you’re not interested?”

“Who said that?” Sicheng responds quickly, leaning in.

The five of you huddle closer in a circle, looking as conspicuous as a cult. 

“You guys know that Jinyoung’s leaving, right?” Doyoung starts.

Soojin gasps audibly only to get a smack on the arm from Doyoung. “Why’s he leaving? He's like employee of the month every month. ”

A few chuckles pass through the group at her discontentment from months of losing out on the title.

“I heard he found his soulmate. Lucky ass gets tax benefits too now,” Sicheng complains. “Why is he leaving?”

“Oh, look who’s interested in gossip now,” Soojin coos.

Sichengs turns red in the face and looks away, clearing his throat. “You’re gonna answer my question, Doyoung?”

“Oh! Right.” Doyoung looks up from a text. “He got rejected by his soulmate.”

Soojin covers her mouth this time when she gasps and you can’t say your jaw doesn’t drop as well. 

“Rejected? Like our picture-perfect Jinyoung got rejected?” you repeat, trying to process the information. “Please don’t tell me he decided to be an idiot and sign a mutual rejection.”

“No, he didn’t lose his senses,” Doyoung responds with a duh undertone. “He’s getting the compensation money.”

You sigh. “Man, I feel bad for him.”

Jaehyun hums in agreement. There’s a hush over the group and you feel fear rise in your chest. You don’t want to be rejected. You’ve seen how happy Dongmin looks with his girlfriend—he’d reject you in a heartbeat. Of course, you could just receive the compensation money from the one-sided rejection and get it over with but you refuse to. It hurts to not be wanted. It hurts to not be wanted by someone who’s supposed to want you. To be specific, it hurts your pride. Every time you see the damn arrowed heart on Dongmin’s wrist, which he tries so hard to cover with his watch, you feel like throwing up. You’re glad yours isn’t as easy to spot—resting right above your hip bone.

“Anyway, someone’s getting promoted to that HR specialist position.”

You gasp. “Is it me? It’s me, right?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes and you elbow him. “What’s with you?”

“Don’t get too excited,” he says, shrugging. “Isn’t it stupid to get your hopes up over a rumour?”

Doyoung breathes out. “Wow, (name) really sucked the life out of you, Jaehyun.”

You glare at him when Soojin breaks into a fit of laughter. “You- you know what that- you know what that sounds like, right?”

Your face contorts into disgust and you shake your head. “Let’s be more professional, alright, Soojin?”

She clears her throat and straightens her clothes, like a teenager being reprimanded. “I’m your senior. It’s embarrassing when you say that to me.”

Jaehyun speaks up and turns to you. “I think lunch break is almost over.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So?”

“You’re forgetting something.” He smiles, dimples showing, but his eyes come off menacing.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You forgot about that stupid lunch promise. 

“Hey. Professional,” Soojin warns.

You groan and link your arm through Jaehyun’s, making him bite back a smile. What is it with men and getting weirdly happy about lunch?

“We’re gonna go get lunch,” you announce.

“Ooh, (name)’s ditching quality time with coworkers for dates now,” Soojin coos.

You roll your eyes and exit the office, stopping to wait in front of the elevator.

“I think that went well,” Jaehyun says, shrugging lightly.

“Shh. What if they hear us?”

“Do you think they’re X-men? We’re a long corridor and closed doors away.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “Still…”

Jaehyun’s smug smile makes you want to smack it right off and this isn’t the first time you’ve felt this way with him. You swear he’s not as bad as some of the guys you’ve met but Jaehyun is simply annoying. An A grade nuisance. You can trust him though. If Soojin says he’s a reliable guy, you’ll believe her—she doesn’t bluff when it comes to seeing right through men, though she does have a tendency to believe stupid rumours.

“Your acting was shit though,” you snipe.

Jaehyun lets out a low sardonic laugh. “At least I was subtle when I was messing up.”

You cross your arms and huff. “You know what? You can take the next elevator ride.”

“Huh?”

You step into the elevator just as the doors open and quickly jam your finger to the close doors button. The look of betrayal on Jaehyun’s face is subtle but it’s enough to satisfy you. As the saying goes, when one door closes, another one opens—it’s very applicable to elevators. He can take the other one.

However, almost immediately after, the elevator doors open and you groan, opening your mouth to send a sarcastic congratulations to Jaehyun for pressing the button on time.

Your words hitch on your tongue. Dongmin greets the two of you with a smile, standing beside Jaehyun, who has his eyes averted from you.

“Hey,” Dongmin greets. “Congratulations. I heard the news.”

“Thanks,” you croak, clearing your throat with a bit of heat on your cheeks. Jaehyun looks like he might burst into a fit of laughter any moment and you shoot him a subtle glare.

“Where are you headed to?” You ask.

“Oh, I’m going to grab a sandwich from the cafeteria.”

“We’re also headed to the cafeteria,” Jaehyun declares, with a smile that’s almost devilish.

“No, we’re not,” you say quickly, making Dongmin raise an eyebrow. You hold back a groan. If only Dongmin weren’t raised to be the politest man you know and a little bit more of an asshole. 

You hum and turn to Jaehyun. “I told you about that new cafe. Remember, honey?”

Dongmin makes an ‘o’ with his mouth. “Nicknames, already? Ah, I’m so jealous. It must be great to get along with your soulmate.”

Oh, the sweet summer child that Dongmin is.

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “Oh, won’t it take too long, darling? We have—”

He makes a show of checking his Rolex, a gift he received from his superior that he spares no chance to flex.

“—Around ten minutes left.”

You hold back a groan and plaster on your smile. “Come on. Now is the best time.”

“That sounds like a load of—”

You elbow Jaehyun hard in the gut and a restrained sound dies in his throat, eyes widening in the sweet look of discomfort taking over his features. You smile triumphantly and turn to Dongmin with an immediate change of expression.

“I’ll see you in office later,” you say, bowing slightly.

Dongmin nods and gets off on the fifth floor. You watch in quiet relief as the elevator door closes and turn to your dear companion, irked.

“Did you have to do that?” Jaehyun asks, voice raspy with pain.

“You deserved it. Don’t you dare make this a bigger mess than it already is.”

“You came up with it.” Jaehyun straightens, finally. Apart from the few loose strands of his neatly parted hair, he doesn’t seem all that disgruntled.

“And we’re going to set some ground rules,” you declare, closing your arms.

Jaehyun straightens to his full height, the space between the two of you diminishing. 

"Okay," he agrees. "Then we both get a say in it. It's a contract, after all."

"Fine. First rule, no being weird around Dongmin."

Jaehyun chuckles. "I think you need to be more careful about that than I do."

You pat his cheek. "Focus. Just don't- don't be around him for too long."

Jaehyun purses his lips. "Why are you so uncomfortable around him? I thought you were doing this because you didn't want to reject him."

You glance away, feeling uncomfortable. "It doesn't matter. I just don't want him to know."

Jaehyun hums. "Fine. My turn. No calling me a chump."

Your cheeks puff up as you try to contain your laughter. "It bothered you that much, huh?"

Jaehyun furrows his brows. "No one's ever called me that before. It's always 'oh my god, he's so handsome, who is he?' or 'ooh, I might faint from how hot he is'."

You giggle. "Alright, handsome."

Jaehyun exhales, his puffed cheeks making him look like a resentful five year old instead of a grown man with a professional job. You pause before you get back on track.

“No nicknames,” you blurt. “It’s weird when you call me something endearing. And your flirting feels kind of threatening.”

“What do you mean, baby?”

“See! You’re doing it again.” You cross your arms at the look on his face; anything close to victorious over Jaehyun’s features is unbearable to you.

He raises his arms in exasperation. “How are we supposed to make this work if we act like we don’t care about each other. Guess why Doyoung’s taking us to couple therapy?”

You huff, slightly pissed off. “You’re saying it was my fault?”

“I’m saying we could have avoided that with better acting.”

“You think you’re so—”

The elevator door opens with a ding on the first floor and you turn to find a bunch of interns back from their lunch break. It would be much less of an awkward affair if you and Jaehyun weren’t well into each other’s personal spaces, noses almost touching and with a mutual glare which could be easily mistaken for a look of something more sensual. You jump away from Jaehyun and leave the elevator as fast as you can, feeling far too conscious of yourself. With long strides, you exit the corporate airs of the building to a sunny, fairly populous sidewalk. 

Jaehyun catches up to you, bending and trying to catch a glimpse of your face with an incredulous smile over his.

“Don’t say a word, Yoonoh.”

“Ooh, you’re saying my name now.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“I find it plenty funny.”

“That’s because of your trash sense of humour.”

“Mhm.”

“Don’t look so smug.”

Mondays are the days that make you want to scream in agony, not Thursdays—though they are pretty high up on the worst days of the week list. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe pretending to be in love with someone you simply cannot be in love with is an awful idea. 

Soulmates don’t need to be in love with each other, you think to yourself. There’s plenty of soulmates who are just in it for the financial benefits; you can just pretend to be one of them. This dilemma is starting to fray your nerves and Jung Yoonoh, with his lax disposition and dimpled cheeks, is making it worse. And to top it off, you now have to take him to your favourite (kind of secret) cafe in the name of the lies that slipped your tongue. It was supposed to be a quiet comfort spot for you.

You blow a puff of air out and dismiss the thought. Comfort spots aren’t real anyway when you’re all grown. There’s bound to be a breach. 

However, you will not let the (lacking) romance department of your life get sorted out by someone who doesn’t even know you. Lady luck would be an acquaintance to you at most. If fate is a game of chance after all, you might as well be the one spinning the roulette. You look at Jaehyun, piecing together the perfect plan for this seemingly frivolous play-pretend. The game is in your hands now. 

You blink at the figure of Jung Yoonoh under February sunlight on a modestly busy sidewalk. It’s not something to be surprised at—however, the stark contrast in attire makes you stare longer than you intend to. Wearing a black graphic hoodie and pair of worn out jeans, Jaehyun looks about as casual as you can bear. It’s always weird to see coworkers out of formal clothing.

“Are you just going to stare at me till Doyoung comes and picks us up?” he asks. 

You roll your eyes. 

“You look nice,” he says, and you glance down at your outfit with a flush of heat over your cheeks. It’s just a short A-line skirt, stockings and a sweatshirt. This is as basic as you get. What’s worse is that his comment didn’t sound sarcastic.

“You- You look nice too. I guess.” Once in a while, you will say something extremely stupid and pretend it never happened. The frequency increases around Jaehyun for some damn reason.

“You guess? I’m pretty sure I look more than nice.”

“And how long did you look at yourself in the mirror and practise catchphrases this time?”

Jaehyun’s ears turn the shade of cherries and you press down your smile. You knew that time you caught him talking to himself in front of a car window would play to your advantage. 

“What’s that you’re holding?” you ask, eyeing the plastic bag he’s holding.

“Ginseng,” he answers, staring blankly at the cars passing by. “I heard the couples therapist is in his sixties so he might find it useful.”

“Oh, old people stuff,” you muse quietly. “That’s quite thoughtful of you.”

You should’ve brought something, you think for a moment before realizing that couples probably don’t give separate gifts. 

“Thanks,” you mutter.

He raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

You shake your head. “Anyway, we might as well kill some time. Twenty questions. Let’s go.”

He laughs. “What are we, in college?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Don’t make us sound like we’re thirty. I bet you’re the kind of guy who has his retirement plan figured out.”

“Wrong,” he emphasizes, face leaning closer. 

“Fine. I’ll start the questions, you unsalted block of butter. How many relationships have you been in?”

Jaehyun opens his mouth and closes it, ears turning red. “That’s your first question?”

You roll your eyes. “Okay. I’m guessing it’s single digit and on the lower side.”

He rolls his eyes. “How many relationships have you been in?”

You shut your mouth. There’s a moment of silence, a breeze passing you by, carrying winter away in its arms to make room for spring. 

“Never found a relationship worth it,” you mutter, glancing away. 

Jaehyun hesitates before opening his mouth. “Me neither.”

“Good thing for us, eh? Love makes people crazy.”

Jaehyun faces you with a clipped smile. Never did you think Jaehyun from marketing would be relating to you on a personal matter.

“Oh, but I’ve had enough hookups and I can bet you’re mediocre at best in bed.” 

Jaehyun glares at you. “I am not and I can prove it to you.”

“Is that an invitation into your bed? No, thanks.”

He opens his mouth to retort but is interrupted by the Hyundai Grandeur pulling up to the sidewalk and rolling down the driver window to reveal Doyoung. He looks as overworked as usual, but his eyes are more tired, a bit of makeup covering the dark circles. You’ve heard his soulmate is a makeup artist for an idol group and wonder how they even came to be. Does fate throw darts randomly and pick its choice?

“Get in. Quick,” Doyoung instructs. “I have to drop you off and head home. My family is visiting. I didn’t even get a warning and they think I’m in a gay relationship with Taeyong because we still have our friendship rings from college.”

You want to laugh and agree but Doyoung looks rather pissed off so you hold it in. The two of you do as told, getting in the backseat and shutting the doors in sync. The car smells rather leafy mingling with the scent of fresh clothes and you eye the jar dangling from the rear-view mirror. You open your mouth to ask what scent that is when Doyoung’s voice rings out.

“What’s that?” Doyoung signals to the bag with Jaehyun.

Jaehyun looks down. “Ginseng extract.”

“Oh, the gift pack?” Doyoung asks. 

Jaehyun nods and Doyoung chuckles, shaking his head. “If that’s for Mr. Lee, forget it. He hates gifts. Something about inward appreciation and shit.”

Jaehyun groans, massaging his forehead. “What do I do with this then? Is this guy a priest?”

“Give it to Doyoung,” you suggest. “His family’s visiting.”

You hear an audible hum of approval from the driver seat and turn to Jaehyun making a face of reluctance. Maybe he isn’t so magnanimous after all, you think smiling.

“You’re both quite tame today,” Doyoung remarks, just when the silence is starting to swallow the inside of the car. “Makes me wonder if you need Mr. Lee after all.”

“We actually don’t…” You shake your head. “We’re here and it’s free so why not?”

Jaehyun shoots you a questioning look. It’s not like you can cancel when you’re in Doyoung’s car and already on the way. You’ve known your boss long enough to know the wrong answer to his questions. You look outside at Seoul streets and sigh. 

Jaehyun looks at you, your focus elsewhere and wishes this would end already. He has no idea what overcame him to accept your ridiculous offer but he must be just as ridiculous. At the very least, he finds you quite lovely to look at—not that he’d ever admit it to you. The foundation to this weird bickering friendship (if he can call it that) would be ruined by that. His ego, however, has been boosted up a few notches from the fact that you called him for help. He looks outside the window, holding back a smile. It’s a sunny day.

The therapist, Mr. Lee’s office building is a fancy one with an even fancier lobby. Baby pink leather couches cushion your bum nicely as you wait for your appointment. The architecture is that of a corporate firm and you feel quite at home with the large glass walls by the revolving door. This therapist guy must be rich as hell. The receptionist wears a formal uniform; her blouse is light pink with a grey pencil skirt and you like the look of it. You wonder if asking her where she bought it is time-appropriate. More couples sit around you and you, unfortunately, have to scoot closer to Jaehyun as a result. You do not want to catch that disease they all have. Why are they even here for therapy if they’re smiling at each other in that sickly enamored way? 

Now that you’re here, you’re starting to feel that this arrangement was ill-decisive. You should’ve done a better job of acting. You wonder if you can get a refund for that college course on acting, pouting as the ticking wall clock gets on your nerves. Even the marble floors are pink; the walls are mahogany red and there’s a heart-shaped wall clock, and should you glance around more, you’re going to nauseate yourself. This guy certainly takes his job seriously—or just really likes pink-red themes.

A woman in her early thirties exits the elevator and announces your names, and you click your tongue at the fact that she used Jung for your surname. It sounds distasteful. 

You follow her, starting to get nervous. You really hope this Mr. Lee isn’t as good as Doyoung says he is. Your fraud falling apart within three days is too embarrassing a defeat, not to mention bordering on illegal if found out. What the fuck does the government care about broken hearts and beneficial relationships? It’s so nosy. You understand the financial situation in case of happily bonded soulmates but apart from that, there really shouldn’t be this much discrepancy in the name of love.

Love drives people crazy. You’d rather not lose your good sense in the name of something so inane. After all, money makes the world go around, not love. 

Restricting a gag at the deep red heart on the door, you push them open with Jaehyun to find an old man sitting on a similar baby pink couch as in the lobby. He gets up to greet the two of you, the wrinkles on his face deepening when he smiles. Despite everything, he has a sort of grace to him, the one that comes with growing old elegantly. An upbeat song plays on a record player attached to the wall, although at a very low volume, and the tune reminds you of Animal Crossing. 

“Doyoung told me about the two of you,” Mr. Lee says, gesturing at the two of you to sit down. “How long has it been since you found out?”

“Six days,” you answer at the same time Jaehyun answers, “Four days”.

The two of you look at each other.

“Four-Six days. We didn’t keep track.”

“Ah,” Mr. Lee says. “How do you propose to celebrate your anniversary?”

You hesitate opening your mouth and declaring that you don’t really need to do that crap. Mr. Lee notices your expression and breaks into gentle laughter. 

“I’m kidding. Anniversary dates don’t matter,” he laughs. “It’s okay to celebrate your 100-day on the wrong day. Don’t worry.”

You purse your lips. To your dismay, Jaehyun isn’t as bothered by the sickly pink environment and Mr. Lee’s relaxed demeanour.

“I have a hundred percent success rate,” Mr. Lee assures the two of you, looking directly at you.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” you mutter under your breath and get a nudge from Jaehyun, who has his politest smile on.

You can’t believe Jaehyun has a better customer service mode than you do. If you didn’t know him, you’d be fooled into thinking he’s the nice guy character every office has. Unfortunately, that one goes to Dongmin. You hate getting stuck with nice guys (unless they offer financial stability).

“I think Doyoung might have been exaggerating,” Jaehyun explains calmly. “Whatever he told you.”

“He told me the two of you have a bickering problem. And staring at each other when the other isn’t looking.”

You cough. “That is not true. The staring part.”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes at you. “I knew you were checking me out,” he mutters.

You roll your eyes. “Keep dreaming, Jaehyun.”

Mr. Lee laughs. “Your bickering seems to be quite affectionate. I don’t know what that boy was worried about.”

You press your lips together into a thin smile, annoyed that anyone would ever describe your interaction with a man as affectionate. It makes you feel like an idiot. You were always better off alone—the universe was wrong to assign Dongmin to you. Maybe you needed to see the apparent love of your life clearly in love with someone else to snap you to reality.

“However, what is a playful lover’s fight in the beginning can turn into real fights.”

“Right,” you mutter. “It’s all fun and games in the beginning.”

“The two of you have almost no animosity—you’ve known each other before you discovered the soulmark, right?”

The two of you nod, having already reconciled yourselves to this session. It’s a one-time thing, you tell yourself. It will be over soon.

“The soulmate information shouldn’t influence the relationship you already had. If anything, it should be drawing you closer. First time awkwardness is common.”

He’s starting to sound a lot like your high school sex ed teacher. You get the idea to pretend to be sick and get out of this early.

“Company policy too,” Jaehyun mutters. “Unofficial company policy makes office romance out to be some sort of sacrilege.”

“You know, I was the CEO of your company so I do know the policies,” Mr. Lee says, smiling in the confident, reserved way senior citizens offering wisdom do. 

You choke on the water you were taking a sip of, a coughing fit overcoming you and Jaehyun hesitates before awkwardly patting your back.

“Huh? CEO? I’m sorry?” you manage. 

Mr. Lee lets out a loud, hearty laugh. “I stepped down two years ago.”

“That’s when I joined,” you and Jaehyun say at the same time.

Mr. Lee smiles at the two of you wordlessly. “I have an idea for the two of you. Why don’t you try turning your ‘I’s into ‘we’s? Do some activities together and when you talk about it, you’ll find yourself much closer.”

You narrow your eyes. “You know, Mr. Lee, I’m a little curious about your relation with the company—”

“My recommendations won’t help you get promotions faster.”

“Dammit.”

Jaehyun chuckles beside you but a glare from you turns it into a suppressed smile. The one thing that wouldn’t be a waste of time opened its door and closed it right back. 

“But you know how promotions work,” you press, leaning forward.

An alarm rings, so pleasant in tone that you know it’s a Samsung. Unfortunately, it’s the ugly flip model and you question Mr. Lee’s taste (and wealth).

“Oh, look, time’s up,” Mr. Lee announces, and you think you catch a hint of nervousness in his voice. 

Jaehyun springs up before his ears turn red, embarrassed by the gusto with which he himself got up and looks at you expectantly. You get up, sighing.

“Next time, Mr. Lee,” you warn. “I will get those details.”

“I charge by the hour.” He smiles.

“Stop threatening the therapist,” Jaehyun mutters to you, taking your arm and turning to leave.

“Oh, and,” Mr. Lee calls. “It’s always better to be honest than to pretend.”

You blink in surprise when Jaehyun tugs at your arm, bowing in thanks and leaving the room with you.

“Was it just me or did he see through us?” you whisper to Jaehyun.

He shakes his head, whispering back, “There’s no way he could tell. He’s probably referring to something else.”

“Like what?”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer.

“Tell me, are you always so domineering towards strangers even?” he asks. “I just thought you liked to press my buttons because I’m easygoing.”

You scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not as cool as you think you are, especially since you get so hot and bothered by me.”

“It’s just you,” he whispers earnestly and your pulse rises. “No one else.”

You cough to kill the awkward silence and walk faster to the elevator. Jaehyun follows at a leisurely pace and it’s never occurred to you before but the sound of someone’s footsteps can also be annoying, proof currently standing beside you.

The elevator doors open, and much to your appallment, a young couple happens to be full blown making out inside the elevator, hands where there certainly shouldn’t be in broad daylight. Jaehyun whips his face away, clearing his throat loud enough for the couple to detach themselves from each other and hurriedly exit, fixing their clothes on the way.

“So he wasn’t lying about the success rate,” Jaehyun states quietly, a look of resigned horror on his face.

You can’t even respond for a few moments, following him into the elevator and shaking your head to get rid of the thought that inevitably jams itself inside your head. It might have a point, however.

"Maybe we should kiss too," you think out loud.

Jaehyun stiffens, looking at you with wide, fearful eyes. "No."

"We have to kiss, we're dating!" You exclaim, hands on your hips.

"We're not actually—ah, whatever. It’s not worth bickering with you."

"Why? Afraid you'll fall in love with me?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, and you’re suddenly aware that your bickering keeps drawing you closer to each other, your faces nearer than you’d realized.

"If anything," he starts with a confident smile. "You better not fall in love with me."

"Oh, please. You're taking this way too seriously."

"You're the one that wants to kiss me."

Your cheeks heat up. "You're- I- That's not—argh, fuck you."

Jaehyun looks smug, and you have the unstoppable urge to punch it off his face. You take a deep breath. Violence is not the way, (name).

“If we were a few years younger, you’d be begging for mercy under me,” you seethe.

Jaehyun’s eyes shift over your face in confusion, ears burning bright red with each passing second. Before he can open his mouth, you let out a short yell.

“Not like that, you pervert,” you say, leaning away from him. 

“I didn’t even say anything. On an unrelated note, were you a delinquent in school?”

You roll your eyes. “Kind of. I had a temper and a sharp tongue.”

“And now you’re a people pleaser. That’s quite the development.”

You smack his shoulder. “You’re getting on my nerves, punk.”

He makes an ‘oh’ with his mouth before smiling. “You totally did the delinquent accent.”

“I’m guessing you were the shy, little boy who flushed red at conversations about kissing.”

Jaehyun clears his throat in annoyance. “I was not. I was quite popular in high school and college, you know?”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “It’s that face of yours.”

“Sorry, what? I didn’t catch that.”

“Oh, look, we’re on the first floor.” You exit the elevator, leaving a puzzled Jaehyun to follow in stumbling steps.

“I don’t think Doyoung’s picking us up,” you state. “You take the bus? Or do you have a car to flex? I don’t ride in anything below a Tesla, unless it’s Doyoung because he’s technically my boss.”

“You’ll have to do with good old rented Hyundais,” he answers.

You exhale. Maybe he’s getting used to you. The bus stop is opposite the building, the structure squeaky clean and a bunch of people waiting on the seats. It’s a busy place and you wonder if the scammy-therapist-slash-your-former-ceo’s business has anything to do with that. You sit the first chance you get, shoulders pressed against Jaehyun’s for the lack of space and admiring the passing traffic. Seoul really just depends on the lenses you see through. Work days make the screen tinted grey and blue and you hate them often but some days, it’s good to experience those. Weekends are brighter, sunny and usually not with Jaehyun but he doesn’t really put a damper on them either.

You scan his side profile, a little envious when you realize that his confidence isn’t misplaced. You might have trained yourself to be more of a pleaser over the years but he’s the sort of person people come to like naturally. Moreover, his skin is perfect and his hair is always looking styled even in a mess. Fate and Life are partners in crime when it comes to being unfair.

Jaehyun turns to look at you and you snap your head to your lap, turning on your phone and staring at the homescreen for a good few seconds.

“Twenty questions,” Jaehyun announces. “Let’s play again. I’ll go first. Do you check me out when I walk away?”

“What is this, playing my own cards against me?” You scoff. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“So, yes or no?”

“Sometimes,” you mutter. “But it’s not the good kind of checking out. I’m checking out how terrible you look with your mess of a tie.”

Jaehyun laughs, the sound a hearty rumbling sort and you can’t help but smile back at that. It’s kind of cute when he laughs—the sound of it and the way his cheeks are dusted pink.

“My turn,” you say with a cheeky smile as you lean in to whisper. “Have you ever had a wet dream about me?”

Jaehyun chokes on air, coughing out the surprise as he stares at you dumfound. You stick the tip of your tongue out and throw him a wink, thoroughly enjoying this victory against him. It feels great to fluster someone like Jaehyun.

“No,” he says with clear emphasis. 

“Even the night you said I was so unbearably hot very loudly to Sicheng?”

Jaehyun leans back sighing, covering his face with his hand. “I was tipsy. And it was my first night out with coworkers. Give me a break.”

You giggle. “Honestly, it wasn’t that bad. There were worse incidents that night. An intern threw up on Doyoung’s shoes—I can’t even imagine the horror the poor girl experienced.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, smiling through his hand. 

“Have you ever sent nudes?” you ask, wiggling your eyebrows.

He sighs. “Maybe. Have you?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?”

He curls his lips. The answer seems to be no but you’re at least seventy percent sure he would be attracted to you in a world where your personality traits weren’t being nosy and annoying.

“Do you think you’re a good kisser?” Jaehyun asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Definitely.”

He scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You cross your arms.

He shrugs, leaning in slightly as though flirting (if he had the audacity). “We could test that.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. “What happened to no kissing in the contract?”

“It’s not officially there.”

You roll your eyes, glancing away. “You know, I’m starting to believe you were some sort of desperate fuckboy in college.”

“I- I was the hottest dude on campus and if we went to the same college, you would be pining after me. I literally had the Campus Prince title and girls would follow me to see me in class.”

He crosses his arms, a frown tugging down his lips.

“Ooh, Jung Yoonoh’s getting fired up,” you say in a monotonous voice. “Wonder how many girls you pulled with your chewed up fuckboy dialogue.”

Jaehyun scoffs but he clearly finds your accusations amusing, as hinted by his unbothered smile. He asks a question again.

“What’s more important to you—truth or happiness?” 

The question catches you off-guard. Jaehyun’s eyes are delicately curious, nothing too strong and even so, you find yourself holding your breath under his gaze.

“Huh?”

“Twenty questions. We were playing?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

“Right.” You clear your throat, rubbing the back of your hand. “I… I’d choose happiness, I think. I’m… I’m not sure.”

“Really?” He doesn’t look too hellbent on taking apart your answer so you breathe out. He’s starting to pry into you finally. “I think the truth will make you happier.”

“That’s not- that’s not always true.” You look away, hoping the quietness of your voice ends the conversation there. You don’t know how to talk about it—you never really have. You’ve ugly cried over the lack of your love life to a stranger after five shots of whiskey but you don’t think you can talk about things like this sober. You don’t even know why you answered. Jaehyun makes you feel oddly comfortable.

Jaehyun shrugs, getting up when the next bus halts in front. 

“What did you major in?” you ask, following him.

“Business,” he answers before thinking. “Kind of hated it. But I started out with IT and that was somehow worse.”

You gasp, taking a seat beside him on the bus. “I started with IT too! It was a nightmare. You took that Database Management course?”

Jaehyun smiles. “It was like the course equivalent of reading the back of a Wi-Fi Router.”

You laugh. Maybe he isn’t so different after all. 

“You know, you do look like a business major,” you hum, furrowing your brows as you pretend to scrutinise him.

“So, you’re indirectly saying I either look like a rich kid or a jackass.” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

“They’re both the same thing.”

The laughter from the two of you makes an old woman behind you grunt in displeasure and the two of you apologize. It’s nice to talk like college kids again. The Seoul sunlight shines on Jaehyun’s face and you bite back a smile when his dimples appear. They aren’t all that bad. If you get along like this, there’s no reason to worry about fate and the universe and other superfluous things offered to you on a boring old ceramic plate. It’s a smooth ride.

Your eyes drift to Dongmin’s workspace instinctively and you shake your head. This is exactly why you were avoiding him and even started the entire fake relationship with Jaehyun. You’d choose fake dating a (good-looking) chump from management over embarrassment and possible heartbreak any day.

You groan internally before glancing again and find the desk empty. Surprised, you blink and turn only to scream at Dongmin’s figure behind you.

“Shh!” he says urgently. “Don’t move. And don’t panic when I say this but there’s a bug on your shoulder.”

“What the fuck? Get it off, please,” you say, voice choking up.

Dongmin rolls up a stack of papers and you let out a low screech. “Don’t kill it on my shoulder!”

“Sorry,” he says and your eyes soften as he gently pushes the paper against your shoulder and takes it away. You breathe a sigh of relief and he signs you a thumbs up as he wiggles the paper in the air outside the window. 

“You saved me,” you say, smiling.

He returns it, his most beloved eye smile making you wonder if you made the right choice. Wouldn’t it be fun to just crash everything and watch it burn? You know you want to. Benevolence and grace were never your style. However, it’s his smile again that stops you. Maybe you don’t really want to be the bad guy after all. You’re sparing him from confusion and dread.

You’re sparing yourself from rejection and inevitable loneliness (yay).

It’s been a week, discussing details with Jaehyun before the both of you collectively decided to just wing it and hope you’re not caught. After all, there’s no real way to prove you’re not soulmates if you’re careful enough (the same way you can’t prove someone’s cheating if they’re careful enough but that’s quite a depressing analogy). Perhaps if you renounce the soulmate benefits (and Dongmin didn’t smile as often at you), it would be less morally taxing. You, however, are greedy. When you want something, you’ll do anything to get it.

You stare at the computer screen and sigh, cross checking the employee records for incorrect data and your eyelids start to droop. Of all the days, you just had to be assigned the most boring task on a Friday. You also should’ve gotten sleep instead of getting mad at Jaehyun’s dry responses to your plan of action. It was perfectly viable; unnecessary, but perfect nonetheless.

Soojin rolls her chair backwards into yours. “We’re going drinking tonight. Wanna come? You can bring your boy-toy too.”

You roll your eyes. “As much as I’d love to call him that, he’s still the chump from marketing for me.”

“Or,” Soojin emphasizes. “Your actual soulmate. How lucky is it that you work in the same building, in the same company?”

“I’m not sure if you’re being ironic.” You scroll through the database with trained eyes.

“I’m not. A lot of soulmates don’t even get to see each other because of their line of work. It’s so tragic.”

You’d be glad if you didn’t get to see Dongmin ever too. But you’ll keep that to yourself. You hum in response and hear a sigh from behind you.

“Let’s have fun,” she whines. “Is Jaehyun that much of a downer? He’s one of the hottest dudes in the building. I thought you’d be cheery.”

You pause and think to yourself. She does have a point. You’re definitely supposed to look happier. Your soulmate has the looks of a model and fifteen year old you would fawn over him no doubt.

“It’s the work,” you answer. “I’m working overtime to compensate for my rent.”

You work overtime anyway because you hate heading home to an empty apartment. 

“Ah, you signed a new lease, right? Near Songpa?” Soojin looks at you with pity and pats your shoulder. “You know what? I’ll treat you to drinks tonight. You deserve a day off, missy.”

You smile. “Thanks, Soojin.”

“And,” she adds in a singsong voice. “The love of your life is here.”

You furrow your eyebrows before tilting your head and almost sighing in exasperation at the figure of Jung Yoonoh outside the glass door. He may not show it, but you know distress when you see it. You’ve seen enough squirming undergraduates at company interviews. 

You quickly get up from your seat, praying that he didn’t mess something up. However, you find it cute when he looks like this, the urge to fluster him even more presenting itself to be rather tempting.

“I think you have a sick obsession with me, Jaehyun.” You cross your arms after closing the door behind you.

He exhales, closing his eyes for a moment before taking your arm and pulling you away from the door. 

“Woah, this isn’t high school. You can’t just pull me into a corner to make out.”

Jaehyun’s ears flare hot red and he clears his throat. “You’re in high spirits today.”

You weren’t, actually. Somehow, teasing Jaehyun gives you the same rush as caffeine. You just love when the nonchalance on his face turns into discomposure.

“I came to give Doyoung these files. Or you, since you’re practically his assistant.”

You ignore his comment. “There’s clearly something else.”

“The team sports event is coming up,” Jaehyun starts, hesitating. “I’m not managing it this year. I have to participate.”

“So?”

“So Dongmin has a higher chance of finding us out. What if he sees my mark in the changing room and it all goes to shit?”

“Great! He’ll think you’re his soulmate and I’ll be spared from this nonsense.”

“I’m being serious. It’s already difficult living with Sicheng and having to change with my doors locked. It’s kind of suspicious.”

“Do you guys sleep naked with each other or what?”

“No, but I do sleep with my shirt off.”

“Ugh. Why would you give me that image?” you complain. The image isn’t bad per se but it’s not what you need right now.

“You clearly liked it,” he mutters. 

You furrow your eyebrows. “You’re not doing this just to give me a load of unnecessary anxiety, are you? Do you know how swamped with work I am?”

“No, of course not,” he answers, no indication of which question he answered. “Also, is there a reason Soojin’s glaring at me?”

You wave your hand in dismissal. “It’s just the haven’t-warmed-up-to-coworker’s-new-boyfriend glare. Don’t worry about it.”

He doesn’t seem too relieved but you have more anxious thoughts invading the privacy of your Friday evening. You have to keep up your composure. It could happen one way or another, perhaps in a situation better than a team sports activity, but you have to figure it out. You reject your soulmate anyway—the same way he would.

Glaring at Jaehyun one last time, you get back to your desk. Jaehyun looks at your receding figure and finds himself checking you out, the largest blow he’s taken to his dignity. He shakes his head, breathing in and out. This is so not like him. He’s supposed to be the suave, handsome guy who people can’t seem to get to and yet—yet, you do it so easily. It’s unfair. He swallows his heart and tells himself he’s too old to feel this way. He’ll just drown himself in work and pretend love is a commodity like everyone else with a corporate job is supposed to. 

“You know,” Soojin starts when you get back. “Jaehyun kind of looks high if you look at him long enough. Weed is illegal though but who knows? Maybe he’s a bad boy deep down after all.”

“Which rumour have you been paying attention to now?” You sigh deeply.

Soojin laughs. “It’s funny to hear everyone’s opinions. Even if most of them turn into scandalous tall tales.”

“Anyway,” she continues. “I’m clocking out. I’ll get Jaehyun to take you to the sake bar.”

You look at her, puzzled.

“You’re a matching set now,” she follows up and you groan.

“Don’t give me that cr—”

“Toodle-oo! Let’s have some fun before we’re grey and old, eh?”

You sigh and nod. Maybe you should look into a caffeine fix, even if it costs you a mental power outage at the end of the rush. It’s not like you to be so down on a Friday but alas, Fate is as miserable a woman as you are. The sake bar is starting to sound good.

Or, you could always watch a few ASMR cooking videos instead of staring blankly at the employee records. Either way, this Friday better improve by tonight.

“This is going great,” Soojin says, louder than she probably intended after her fourth shot.

“Of course it is,” you mutter. 

You haven’t yet had a chance to drink more because of two reasons: one) Soojin is hogging the alcohol and two) it would be embarrassing to get drunk in front of Jaehyun. Adding to your misery, Soojin has been gushing over her soulmate and the way she always makes breakfast for Soojin, listing off every single recipe she’s made. You would love to listen but you’re a tiny bit past your limit.

“Wooh, Jaehyun, you look hot,” Soojin whistles, in more of an older sister manner. “I can almost see your tattoo. Why don’t the two of you show us at the same time and we can take a commemorative picture?”

You cough loudly. “Mine’s on my waist, Soojin. I’m not ready to expose skin.”

“Right. Sorry.” She turns back at lightning speed to bother Dongmin with her stories, who smiles at her politely. It seems so genuine that you’re slightly enamored with it for a moment. There’s Jungwoo from marketing beside him, some more HR employees and thankfully, no interns. Doyoung is the only one partly miserable in the lot, talking into the phone for half an hour now. 

“Shit.” Jaehyun nudges you and whispers, “I forgot about the tattoo. This T-shirt makes it very visible.”

You look at him, alarmed. You fix his jacket, startling him, and pull the zipper all the way to his neck, making sure to backhand him on the chin.

“There.”

“It’s hot in here.”

“What do you want me to do about it? God, you’re like a child.”

“I’m like a—okay. Just cover my tattoo with foundation or something.”

“You think I carry around a whole bottle of foundation?”

Jaehyun blinks, deeming it safer to keep his mouth shut. 

“Okay. Fine. I have an idea. Come to the washroom with me.”

“Oh my, this isn’t your making out in the corner type of thing, right?”

You glare at him and he shuts up, following you quietly to the surprisingly clean restroom. The fact that it isn’t gendered makes you very glad. You make Jaehyun sit on the low enough basin counter and push your knee against it to balance yourself as you take out a permanent marker from your bag.

“I hope Doyoung doesn’t fire me for sneaking away,” you mutter angrily. “He didn’t even make me receive his calls all day.”

Jaehyun scoffs lightly. “Please, Doyoung adores you and your work ethic. He talks about it more than what I need to overhear. That and Taeyong’s detailed aquarium maintenance rules.”

“He does?”

Jaehyun clears his throat and you hold back bombing him with more questions till you’re done with painting an arrow into his tattoo.

“Isn’t it weird?” He looks at you with round, curious eyes. “Yours is a heart. Mine’s a pierced heart.”

“Hm. Funny coincidence.”

“Do you have to sit on my lap for this?”

“I’m not sitting on your lap,” you hiss. You are kind of close. You train your eyes on his collarbone as you pull his neckline down. 

It would be so embarrassing to be caught like this. You’d rather be caught making out with someone in the broom closet. You hold back a pained sigh. Jaehyun has some nerve speaking to you when you’re already annoyed with him. Couldn’t he just have worn his business attire? Why does he get to go home early? Taeyong is far too lenient a boss. You start swearing internally, getting nervous when you think about the consequences of your actions.

“Has anyone ever filed a complaint against you?” Jaehyun asks, and you nudge his chin upwards to draw the line on his tattoo.

“For what? Being perfect and successful?”

“For that attitude. The ‘take what I want’ attitude.”

You roll your eyes. “No. You’re saying it like I’m awful to the core for trying to take what I want. I haven’t got such a bad soul, you know, as souls go. You wouldn't write articles about how good a soul it is but… it’s well enough.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow and you avert your gaze from his eyes. This sort of proximity shouldn’t be bothering you, you shouldn’t be rambling.

The door opens right then and in a fit of panic, you do the unthinkable. You press your lips to Jaehyun’s and pray that whoever walked in has no idea who you are and more importantly, can’t see the permanent marker in your hand. 

“I’m so sorry!”

You know that voice. You half regret it when you hear it. Dongmin exits the bathroom as quickly as he entered and you pull away to look at the empty space. Beside you, Jaehyun stays so still that you forget he’s there for a moment. You breathe out in relief though part of you still feels a heavy ounce of regret.

You turn back to Jaehyun and find his doe eyes soft and lost in thought.

“I get it now,” Jaehyun whispers. “It must hurt. That he doesn’t care about the system.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That he’s so reckless about discarding you.”

You separate yourself from him further, standing up and brushing your clothes. “You’re overstepping.”

“Sorry,” he responds quietly. 

There’s a pause.

“Did you just kiss me right now?”

“Shut up. I didn’t want him to see us and especially this.” You wave the marker in front of his face.

“You just kissed me in a fit of panic. That’s the first time I’ve seen someone respond to panic this way.” Jaehyun looks a little too smug.

“What are you implying?” 

“You wanted to kiss me.”

You scoff. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself.” 

You want to knock the smile right off his face but you stick to flicking his forehead, his yell of surprise satisfying. This Friday night was supposed to get better. In fact, you are going to make it better if life won’t. The soju won’t drink itself and you deem that Soojin has had enough. 

Ignoring Dongmin’s confused look, you order far too many soju shots to be considered healthy. As you promised yourself, you are going to make this Friday better.

//

You just had to go and get drunk. Jaehyun stares at you, blinking slowly and wondering just how much you can embarrass yourself before it becomes a burden for him. He has to get you home; you’re practically a matching set now. But are the halves of a pair supposed to take care of the other when they get drunk?

“You know what, guys?” You announce, standing up abruptly and immediately getting pulled back to your seat by Jaehyun. It doesn’t stop your mouth however.

“I hate the stupid system,” you continue. “To tell the truth—”

He smacks his hand over your mouth. Jaehyun has had enough of the silent mini heart attacks you give him. The rest look at him with puzzled looks and he can’t even bring himself to give them a polite smile before dragging you out of the bar. The night breeze is cold enough—maybe it’ll sober you up.

"You're so annoying, Jaehyun," you mutter, massaging your forehead. "Did you know that?"

Or maybe it won’t.

"Never heard that before."

"How do you always keep to yourself and still be the center of attention?" You cling to his arm for balance. 

"Have you considered that maybe a polite man isn't as scheming as you think he is?"

You curl your lips. "Stop using big sentences. I hate that I barely know you, and I know everyone."

Jaehyun purses his lips. "You just enjoy the power that comes with figuring people out. Don't you?"

"Whatever you say. I want life to be a nice and smooth ride but then again, I can't even face my soulmate." You let out an airy laugh. "I didn't really need one though."

Jaehyun laughs in disbelief. "You look like you're dying of loneliness."

"Ooh, that's a big claim, Yoonoh."

"You say I keep to myself but what about you? You like hiding, don't you?"

You laugh. "Is this the part where I say we're nothing alike?"

He purses his lips, shaking his head in dismissal. He's just tired of chit-chat with someone who smells like she robbed a liquor store in Itaewon.

“You must think I’m some sort of selfish, vapid, work-obsessed overachiever,” you continue, tilting your head with a blank look in your eyes.

“Well, not exac—”

“But guess what? Your opinions are invalid, Jung Yoonoh. You’re just some chump from marketing. A very good-looking chump but still.”

Jaehyun swears under his breath as you fling your arms open in the same manner a speech-giving patriot fighting for freedom would. Unfortunately, the freedom struggle is private in this day and age, and you just smacked him in the nose instead.

You sigh deeply and he looks at you again, warily now as he holds his nose.

“You’re not exactly wrong either. I’m so empty. Like a bottle of soju with no soju. Could you bring me some?”

Jaehyun massages his temples and solidifies his resolve. He’s had enough stares from people on the sidewalk. With delicate concern, he holds you up with one arm around your waist, balancing your weight evenly so you can stand. Promptly, you bury your face into his neck and an embarrassing, high-pitched squeak evades the filter of his mouth. You’re just so adept at making his days (and nights) worse.

Jaehyun tries his best to carry you to the parking lot without any signs of struggle but good lord, are you uncooperative. Once he’s down lugging you to the passenger seat, he breathes out in relief at long last and makes sure you don’t fold in over yourself dozing off the seat. Getting you to sit up, he finds himself smiling the slightest bit at your smudged lipstick. Even like this, you’re quite pretty. 

Realizing what thought came over him, he shakes his head vigorously as if he’s committing a horrible crime. He just has to get you home—Soojin had texted him the address prior to the outing just in case—and then he can go back to pretending whatever he even is supposed to.

The sports event is really just HR and Management trying to one-up the other in a more quantitative way. You’re not really fond of the sweat and heavy breathing that comes with physical exertion if it’s for the sake of competition. Competition is such a childish, masculine way of handling things, especially emotions.

HR is leading in wins, however and that means you have something to rub in Jaehyun’s face. You hate participating but you’re not allowed to opt out without a medical certificate. At least one competition, and you had to choose the three-legged race. All these potential partners, and Dongmin had to choose you.

“I’ll win,” you tell Jaehyun, stopping by him once you exit the changing room. The indoor stadium is usually a recreational facility for senior employees but on sports day, it’s closer to a gladiator arena. The seats are green and occupied by grinning employees, most of them glad for a day off but also upset they don’t get to attend their personal affairs in it.

Jaehyun stops himself from rolling his eyes. “Shouldn’t it be a ‘we’? You need a partner. Oh, are you sad you can’t pick me?”

“Not at all.” You cross your arms, annoyed at his mock pity. 

Right then, Dongmin jogs up to you in a blue tracksuit. His hair sticks to his forehead because unlike you, he takes sports very seriously. Jaehyun, on the other hand, just seems to enjoy the competition. As a guilty pleasure, you’d like to see the two of them compete one day. That would be a competition worth betting on.

“I’ll have to borrow your soulmate.” Dongmin laughs. “The race is starting.”

Life strikes again with its poorly timed irony.

“Don’t mind me,” Jaehyun says politely.

The race is easier than you thought it would be considering most of the other employees struggle with teamwork. You’re the HR team for a reason. But then again, you feel a certain hollowness pervade you while you’re pressed to Dongmin’s side. Wouldn’t it be nice?

All you can think is that Dongmin and you are perfectly in sync. The realization comes off as sad despite your victory and the wide grins on both of your faces. 

Jaehyun purses his lips and gives the two of you a nonchalant look. He’s avoided getting caught in the changing room quite well. For some reason, he’s glad that you’re winning but also dissatisfied about it. He would certainly feel different if he were participating in that race, wouldn’t he? He would win. Losing a competition is a huge blow to his ego. Lately, he seems to be losing a lot of races. The two of you have been growing closer and he doesn’t mind late night discussions about flawed systems and childhood memories; but the fact that you’re growing on him is something for him to be on edge about. He’s never felt so close to someone, and still so far.

“Oh, they have good chemistry, don’t they?” Doyoung comments beside Jaehyun, before taking a sip from his bottle.

“What chemistry?” Jaehyun snaps and Doyoung almost chokes on the water.

“Chill out, man.” Doyoung eyes Jaehyun’s figure in concern. “She’s like officially yours.”

Jaehyun refuses in a series of sputtering responses. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not jealous. I’m not that kind of man.”

“I didn’t paint you as that kind of man either,” Doyoung mutters before speaking up. “But love, Jaehyun. Love’s a weird thing.”

Jaehyunn ignores his comment and walks down to the grounds, jogging up to you. He immediately forgets to say anything at all. Smooth move, Yoonoh.

You just stick out your tongue at him subtly.

“I told you we’d win,” you say.

Jaehyun crosses his arms. “Congratulations. I thought you, quote, hate this stupid competition for dunces.”

You clear your throat and Dongmin laughs beside you. Before he can offer his bottle, Jaehyun offers his own in a rush. You raise an eyebrow but don’t question it.

“You guys really are a perfect pair.” Dongmin laughs. “Sometimes I wish Mijoo was my soulmate.”

You give him a pitiful smile. There go your happy feelings of victory.

“But I’m happy this way.” Dongmin nudges your shoulder with his. “Don’t give me that look.”

That is not the look he thinks you were giving. You smile. 

“What about this? We can go on a double date! Those are fun, right?” Dongmin muses, crossing his arms.

“No,” you and Jaehyun refuse in a panic, and Dongmin blinks in confusion at the overwhelming response.

“I'm more of a homebody,” you explain.

“Yeah, me too,” Jaehyun agrees.

It makes Dongmin laugh aloud. “Oh, fate didn’t go wrong with the two of you.”

Your smile wavers. Did it go so wrong with you and Dongmin? Jaehyun’s hand brushes yours and you look at him. A perfect side profile and flushed hot cheeks with dimples to die for. You wouldn’t mind being in love with him. You don’t mind love much at all. 

Shaking off the thought, you watch as Dongmin leaves the two of you to run to the changing rooms. Eyeing Jaehyun’s red team sweatshirt with “Management” in big typography over the chest, you look back up to his face. 

“Why did you jog over here so desperately?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Jealous?”

“Yes. I am irreparably in love with you.”

He leans in quickly and you flinch, making his dimples show up.

“Asshole,” you curse. “I’ll file you for harassment. Don’t do that again.”

“Isn’t it harassment when you feel me up while you draw—” Jaehyun leans in to whisper. “—the soulmark?” 

“I would never have my hands near your greasy existence if I could,” you huff, scandalized. 

But the thing is, Jaehyun is getting better at this game of flustering each other and you don’t like it one bit.

“Hey, you know Dongmin’s girlfriend?” he asks suddenly. 

You nod. “Kind of. I’ve seen her pictures on Instagram.”

Jaehyun pauses before humming in realization.

You cough. “Not that I was stalking them or something. Obviously.”

Jaehyun gives you a knowing smile but doesn’t question anything, much to your aggravation. It would’ve been better if you had a chance to prove you weren’t stalking them but then again, that is exactly what you were doing.

“Well, we went to the same college. Same major too.”

“Are you serious? Wait, how do you know? Does this mean you stalked their Instagram too?”

“Too?”

“Shut up.”

There’s a beat of silence. 

“She’s not exactly the evil homewrecker type,” he says.

“I know that,” you snap. If anything, you feel like the evil homewrecker even if Dongmin’s supposed to be your soulmate.

They’re so reckless. Jaehyun was right—you do blame them in a way. They don’t care who they trample under their nauseating parade of romance. But then again, that parade is better than a personal rejection.

“I’m just saying… don't hold it against them.”

“I don’t remember asking for advice, Jung Yoonoh.”

Jaehyun shrugs, dropping the issue. The preparations for the next race is starting and it has something to do with passing balls from basket to basket—you get bored already when you see Doyoung stretch before shaking hands with Taeyong.

“Wanna get ice-cream? We funded the food truck this year.” Jaehyun looks expectantly at you.

“Sure.” 

You contemplate holding his hand for a moment but let that thought bury itself. You don’t have to pretend right now. 

Much to your despair (or delight) however, Jaehyun takes your hand absentmindedly as he walks towards the exit. It’s not that you’ve never held hands before, it’s just that Jaehyun’s skin is soft against yours.

“I can’t believe you and Mijoo were in the same course.”

It seems she’s ahead of you in every direction you look to tread on. Of course, you will not be telling Jaehyun that. You don’t exactly feel jealousy—can’t feel jealousy when your life is perfect as it is. And for Jaehyun? You hate to admit it but you’d trade places with Mijoo any day.

“Well, she didn’t really like socializing back then so I didn’t know we were in the same program either.”

You chuckle, glancing down at your intertwined fingers despite your best efforts. It feels nice like this. It feels nice to be wanted by someone—even if it’s a lie.

“Do you think- Do you think they’re brave?” You ask. “They didn’t even hesitate to disregard the system.”

“I think people in love are always brave.”

You hum, looking down at your feet. All the more reason the system fucked up. You were never even supposed to be partnered up. You’re not brave—the face you put on is. The idea of love seems to get further and further away from you.

Just then, Jaehyun tugs at your hand, walking slightly faster and making you complain as you jog to catch up with his long strides. The food truck is fairly large, on the street outside to the stadium entrance. February is catching up with its heat and you curse at global warming for this hot winter day.

“You can take up to five scoops of different flavours,” he informs you, grinning sheepishly. “I guess the cups aren’t large enough for beyond that.”

“I didn’t know you were this passionate about ice-cream,” you say.

“Sicheng rubbed off on me.”

You laugh. IT must have given Sicheng enough stress to develop a sweet tooth. You love the HR Department when you look at the others in your company.

Jaehyun has a nice smile. You don’t know why you think that but you do and now you can’t focus on anything apart from the pink dust sprinkled over his cheeks and the handsome dimples that accompany. You don’t want to stare but clearly, Jaehyun must have been blessed by some divide being if not for fate. Maybe he’s a mess up like you. As far as you know, his soulmate doesn’t exist. That little red heart is so simple that none of the soulmate designs match it.

A rather repulsing part of you is happy about it. You like the feel of Jaehyun’s hands. You like the way he looks at you. You wouldn’t mind it if he were yours.  

Jaehyun’s house is as cosy as his mother makes you feel. It’s been a while since you’ve been home and if you were perhaps less emotionally constipated, you would have tears welling up in your eyes. There’s quite a few relatives too but then again, every Asian family jumps at the chance to celebrate something as mediocre as engagements and marriage and soulmate findings. Apparently, hormones are perfectly fine to them once you’re not teenagers anymore.

This isn’t so bad. What was so scary about meeting parents again? Jaehyun’s dad did challenge you with a questionnaire but lucky for you, you know exactly how interviews work. You’ve got enough information on Jaehyun from the man himself for this visit. The briefing he gave you was boring though; you already know what you need to know about Jaehyun.

You sit at the table, while most of the other guests work in the kitchen. Jaehyun’s mother asks you questions about your life, friendly and welcoming in every way possible. Mothers are truly god-sent. You wonder how she produced someone as far from divine as Jaehyun. (Except in looks, perhaps.)

You say that out loud and get a sharp quip from Jaehyun, his mother’s eyes lighting up at your childish interaction.

“Oh my, fate is never wrong!” She remarks with a wide smile. “I’ve never seen Jaehyun open up so much with anyone before. He was such a shy boy in school, you know? All the girls would send letters and confessions and he would just turn red in the face.”

“Mom.” He smiles all too sweet at her but you can see the panic in his eyes.

She rolls her eyes before turning to you. “Darling, you have no idea how proud I feel to see him this at ease. I was honestly getting tired of all the ‘your son is so polite and well-mannered’ comments. Some bickering ought to do him good.”

“Mom,” he repeats, straightening. “I think auntie needs some help setting up the table.”

“Don’t shoo me away yet. I have to tell (name) about the time you were elected class representative in middle school. And all those sports and acting awards.”

“You don’t have to advertise me, Mom,” he says, dropping his face into his hands to rub at his eyes, already growing tired. “I’m already- I’m already hers.”

His mother coos and apart from the expected deep red flush on Jaehyun’s skin, you find yourself feeling hot in the face too. Jaehyun’s aunt calls for his mother right then and you watch as she makes her way to the kitchen entrance, the two women glancing at you and giggling to each other over some shared words.

Jaehyun takes the opportunity to grab your hand and walk away to a more obscure part of the house upstairs. With significantly less relatives, it should be a good hiding spot unless discovered by his giggling cousins that he refuses to introduce you to. 

“Aw, what a shy baby,” you coo, smiling at the thought of a younger, easily-flustered Jaehyun.

His ears are bright red and you think that he’s still easily flustered. He just doesn’t show it much anymore—there’s only one dead giveaway.

“Forget everything my mom said,” he instructs. “It’s not important information.”

“Oh, no, darling. Your mother is a gold mine of vital information. You know what? I’m going to go chat her up right now. I’m sure you were quite the teenage dream I should know about.”

Jaehyun grips your wrist before you can escape, pulling your closer.

“Don’t.”

You don’t know if it’s the proximity or the fact that there are most definitely a few family members that could walk in right now—but you find yourself embarrassed as you look at his face. It’s very pleasant, handsome even, and the strands of his hair look irresistibly soft from this distance. You reach your hand out and brush the hair out of his eyes, almost instinctively. 

“You have nice eyes, Jaehyun,” you say out loud, not sure why. He doesn’t fluster this time but it makes you all the more aware of your nearness.

Your eyes glance at the bottom of the staircase to see a little girl, around nine, hiding from behind the wall that separates the dining room and the kitchen. You return your gaze to Jaehyun with a smirk.

"We should kiss right now. Your little cousin's watching."

Jaehyun looks mildly disgusted. "Why would I want to kiss you in front of my cousin?"

You roll your eyes. “You don't get it, do you? The fastest way to convince a family is through rumours.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. "So?"

"Oh my god, you're an idiot. Nosy cousins are the most effective way to spread rumours."

"Ah." Jaehyun looks enlightened enough for you to continue.

"Okay, but first you need to have these mints." You take out the emergency mints from your purse.

"What? I don't need mints. I have nice smelling breath.”

"Everyone needs mints, Jaehyun. Especially men."

Jaehyun sighs heavily. You take the opportunity to grab his wrist and pull him into a corner. 

"Have this mint or else."

You hold his face between your thumb and forefingers, cheeks squishing under the pressure as you force a mint in. He lets you do it for some reason, looking lost as he gazes at you. 

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh my, you're enjoying this. Pervert."

"Wha—what? You have to stop thinking you're hot shit, oh my god. I just got distracted for a bit."

"By me, right?"

"No! I just zoned ou—you're enjoying this."

You bite down your smile but a giggle escapes you anyway. Jaehyun rolls his eyes though he smiles, looking far too close to irresistible when his dimples show.

"You can't keep teasing me," he says, voice low.

"I've been doing it for two years. I'm pretty sure I can do it for at least two more."

Jaehyun scoffs, laughing at your statement. "You know what? I'm going to get back at you from now on. I've been so lenient."

You snort before pressing the back of your fingers to your nose. "You? You're going to get back at me? You’re good at lip service, Jaehyun."

“Huh. You might be right about that.”

There's a beat of silence and you look at him expectantly. In the next beat of your heart (or lack thereof), he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours, surprising the life out of you as your back hits the wall. It's not just a touch either, his mouth moves over yours and when your knees feel weak, you reluctantly admit that the rumour about Jung Yoonoh being a good kisser is true. Maybe his body count isn't a lower-end single digit after all.

He pulls apart with a short smile tugging at his lips. "Satisfied?"

You sputter out a response before clearing your throat. “I- I don’t think anyone really saw us in this corner.”

Jaehyun makes a low humming sound. “Or you could just say you want me to kiss you again? I know I’m a good kisser.”

“Fuck off.” You punch his chest, eliciting a quiet grunt from him.

You move away from him, peeking from behind the wall. Oh, she saw it alright. The giggling gives it away and the fact that a few more younger cousins have gathered. This is ridiculous. The fact that you wouldn’t mind more is even worse.

You turn back to Jaehyun with steel-set eyes. “No more kissing. Ever. Never again. Kissing is officially banned.”

Jaehyun looks perplexed. “I thought that was a good kiss. Did you not enjoy it? What do you mean no kissing?”

“And I take it back.” The heat on your face is still burning steadily. 

“Oh, I see. You liked it so much that you’re embarrassed.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“So I’m right?”

You roll your eyes and quickly walk down the stairs, a few words of complaint left hanging in the air as Jaehyun follows behind, stumbling over the steps.

Jaehyun likes how comfortable this is. He doesn’t mind glaring daggers at each other but this is fun too. It’s like he doesn’t have to be careful about the lines he might be crossing—there aren’t any damn lines at all. He can’t call it love, at least not by definition, but something is there. Something that is solid enough and heavy enough. Something he would be ready to hold on to.

You laugh at a joke Jaehyun’s dad makes. A family is the only place to feel at home. It might not be yours but maybe at the end of the night, you can convince them to disown Jaehyun and adopt you as their child instead. His cousins seem to be interested in the same things you were as a high schooler and it surprised you. Your job lets you advise the older cousins in a fairly friendly fashion. The little ones seem to like your dress and you find them far too adorable with their pink cheeks and dimples, much like Jaehyun’s. Speaking of which, he definitely got them from his dad. You look around and wonder how Jaehyun has so many female cousins and not an inkling about how women work. 

It doesn’t hurt anymore that Dongmin discarded you so recklessly.

He’s wrong. Jaehyun’s wrong. It doesn’t hurt—didn’t hurt right now at the very least. When Jaehyun kissed you, you didn’t think of Dongmin or his girlfriend or anyone else. You thought that Jaehyun’s skin is somehow always the right temperature. 

You shake your head. Jaehyun drives your getaway car and you shouldn’t get too comfortable in its worn-out leather seats. This shouldn’t be any different to you; you aren’t supposed to find love in every corner. This was all a survival instinct. 

The more stories Jaehyun’s mother shares with you over dinner, the more you find it comfortable to be here. You don’t feel this welcome in your own apartment (although, there isn’t exactly anyone else living there but you and the goddamn pigeon that wakes you up at six in the morning). The more the night progresses, the more you want to believe in this lie. Jaehyun glances at you from time to time, his gaze neither uncomfortable nor harsh and you smile at him when he does. Right now, there is no loneliness and the air is warm and smells of freshly cooked food; the way familial love works is such a mystery. You feel content.

“Why are we doing this again?” you lean in and ask Jaehyun, eyes focused on the TV as he tries to fix it.

“Because I need to get out of work, and fulfilled soulmates get a day off on Valentine’s day.”

You nod. “Your apartment kind of stinks. I feel sorry for Sicheng.”

“This is clean,” he defends, pointing at the lack of any visible mess in his room. His work table, however, has too many items scattered over it to be called neat. There’s a fairly large TV attached to the wall and you’re a little jealous about it. You only ever watch shows on your (quite beloved albeit small) laptop. The blinds aren’t fully closed, the evening city lights trying their best to pry their pervasive fingers in and add something more to the peach hue of Jaehyun’s room.

The doorbell rings just in estimated time for food delivery, a sigh leaving your mouth along with a ‘finally’. His place is strangely comfortable and much less of the war zone that you expected. There’s no reason to feel awkward, really, or even the bubbling in your stomach. You’re not seventeen, in your crush’s house. Jaehyun isn’t even someone you like that way.

It’s just two friends hanging out and watching a movie and doing other friendly activities. Two friends hanging out on Valentine's day. Two friends who have kissed more than once.

What do lovers do anyway?

This thing with Jaehyun has turned into clandestine smiles at the office building, subtle texts of ‘did you eat?’ and ‘good morning, idiot’, racing hearts at brushing hands on the occasional off-work hangouts (you refuse to call them “dates”) and overall, a lot more pink hearts floating over his head when you see him. It’s positively appalling. 

You don’t mind it one bit.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” The delivery man wishes as he leaves and you feel a sudden rage bubble up in you. 

“Ah, does he think every couple celebrates Valentine’s day? And just because we’re in the same apartment means we’re a couple? Wow.” You cross your arms, scoffing. “Who’s he to wish me?”

“Why… Why are you getting mad?” Jaehyun asks quietly, slightly confused.

You glare at him, your anger not quite dissipated and walk back into his room, placing the box of confectionaries on the bedside table with a loud thud. Jaehyun follows, placing the drinks rather clumsily beside it. He gives you one last look of concern before settling down on his bed.

You let out another huff of complaint.

"Does everything have to be heart-shaped?"

You stare at the nauseating display of baked goods delivered in a pretty heart-shaped box. The brownie is in a clear plastic box that has a tiny bouquet of hearts atop it, the coffee cups have heart stickers around the rim, and the pastry itself is heart-shaped or rather, two halves of a heart. One of them is strawberry pink and the other chocolate brown.

“You seem… suddenly fired up,” Jaehyun comments quietly.

You don’t really care if you look crazy to him right now; he’s already seen the worse parts of you. You’re just so annoyed at all this red and pink that was delivered. Aren’t cafes supposed to stick with that beige-cream palette? 

While you contemplate, Jaehyun tears the little sugar packet and attempts to open the lid of the cup at the same time, your blood pressure rising at the sight because you were half sure he’d spill the drink. After much difficulty, he shakes the packet trying to get just enough sugar but of course, like the clumsy oaf he is, he misses almost entirely, spilling sugar over his coffee table. It’s oddly endearing but that’s a thought you’ll keep to yourself.

He turns to you with a sheepish grin and you give him a look of distaste.

“You are a sorry excuse of a person, Jaehyun.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t mess this up.”

You turn to look him in the eyes, the honey shade alluring under warm apartment lights. They really are pretty. 

“I, and every other sane human being, would not mess up adding sugar to a cup of coffee.”

“You faltered for a moment there.”

That was not the reason you faltered. You roll your eyes and look away, taking a sip of your drink and sighing at the taste.

“How do you even like Americanos? Don’t you like a bit of cream and sweetness?”

 “I don’t really care for bitterness,” he answers.

“Wow, you must be a masochist.”

“And it’s quite obvious you’re a sadist.”

You snicker. “That makes us quite the pair.”

“I would like that sentence in a non-BDSM context, thank you.”

Jaehyun turns on the TV and the Netflix logo animation pops up. You raise an eyebrow at his ‘Continue Watching’ list, eyeing Bridegerton and Sweet Home, and wondering if he could be any more of an enigma. You can’t possibly figure him out at this point. You groan when he picks a title.

“Ugh. Do we have to watch a romantic comedy?”

“What? They’re funny. And I thought you liked those 2000’s movies.”

You believed in unicorns and sock goblins and love back then too. These days, you hate to see other people in love, especially when it’s fake. The movies you loved are now the movies you hate. The couples you eyed with delight at parks and cafes are now the bane of your existence. In fact, you’d go as far as to say that you enjoy the digital fireworks from a couple having a massive online breakup. Things falling apart are entertaining when it’s not happening to you.

You purse your lips. Can't you see other people happy without wanting to tear it down for yourself?

“Fine. But I’ll pick the 2000’s romcom.”

Jaehyun shrugs and hands over the remote. You see Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds on the poster and click on it immediately. The Proposal has a good enough comedy to romance ratio, in your opinion.

“I’m kind of surprised you came,” he says quietly.

“Why?” You raise an eyebrow. “Is it because of the suggestive nature of visiting someone’s apartment on Valentine’s day? Did you think we’d be doing something… more fun?”

You lean in and bat your eyelashes suggestively, although you’re clearly joking.

“I think you should know better than to get mouthy with me,” he answers as he leans in further, making your heartbeat hike at the proximity. Maybe he’s figured you out. Wouldn’t it be so nice to figure each other out at the same time—like puzzle pieces fitting together?

You move away from him. “Well, it’s not like I can go anywhere else. And I didn’t want to stay in my own apartment.”

“Maybe you enjoy my company?”

“Look, I would be sipping my coffee at a perfectly aesthetic cafe if it weren’t Valentine’s day.”

He raises an eyebrow at your nonsensical declaration and you sigh, trying to explain yourself.

“Cafes just terrorize the single folk on Valentine’s day. You should always go with Netflix,” you say.

“And chill?”

“Do you even know what that means?”

“As I’ve told you so many times, I am not stupid.”

You inhale, an idea presenting itself.  

“Hey, since we’re technically a couple, shouldn’t you be sharing your Netflix password with me?” you ask, pressing your lips into your cutest smile.

“No.”

“You’re so stingy,” you mutter. It was worth a shot.

Jaehyun laughs, your hand reaching out to poke his dimples but you stop yourself. You weren’t supposed to get this comfortable. This wasn’t your place to be. Lost in thought, the moving screen leaves you unfazed and you can’t look at him anymore. However, Jaehyun reaches out right then and wipes at the space beside your lips, your focus lifting from the beginning scenes of The Proposal and latching onto Jaehyun’s lips.

There’s a pause, your head clearing itself of thoughts when you make eye contact with him. Soft hair, doe eyes, full lips and dimples—he’s so damn attractive, it hurts your existence. Does he have to be this close to you? You have mixed feelings about that look in his eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers suddenly.

“Yes,” you answer.

If you look from a rational point of view, you should not have said that. You should have said anything but that. But you don’t want to think right now. Jaehyun’s touch is warm over your skin as his hand rests under your jaw and the other on your waist.

You should not have said that. But you feel loved.

Somewhere along, you find yourself parting only to kiss again, the feeling of skin so delightful in a way you’ve never experienced. Your shirt hikes up and you see Jaehyun eye the little heart with the arrow—the sign you so despised with a gentle smile.

“It’s pretty,” he whispers.

It’s pretty but it isn’t his. He doesn’t have to look at you like that—he’s come a long way from nervous glances and now he’s the one making you nervous. Just say it isn’t love and it will be alright.

You part, sobering up for a moment and you disentangle your limbs to sit at the side of his bed.

“What’s- What’s wrong?” Jaehyun whispers.

You exhale.

“All my life, I wait and when it comes, it’s all wrong,” you say, staring at your lap. Self-pity is the most disgusting kind of pity to feel. You’re past crying at things like this. You’re past crying for an ounce of romance, every time you listen to a love song on the radio or look at an Instagram post of a couple or pass by lovers on the sidewalk content with each other. You don’t even have cats to return home to. Modern loneliness is wearing you down but you can’t believe in fairytales anymore.

He scoffs, smiling bitterly. “I don’t even know if this is worth losing my dignity over.”

“Jaehyun—”

“We can’t pretend anymore—I can’t pretend anymore,” Jaehyun exhales. “I want you enough to forget the system. Give me an answer. Please.”

You don’t mind forgetting the system right now. Jaehyun’s lips are always the right temperature; the warmth of his body seeps through his shirt as you press yourself to him in a hug. He’s perfect and right now, you want to believe he’s perfect for you—even if he isn’t, you want to believe it into existence.

You cup Jaehyun’s cheeks, unsaid emotion in his doe eyes, and kiss him. This time, you mean it with every ounce of your being. There’s no more flustering each other, just the hot flush of intimacy when you feel skin that doesn’t burn you. It’s just the right feeling. There’s no way this can be wrong. 

Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself? You wish the voice would pipe down. It’s a coward, fearing fate just as everyone else does. But you are better than that, and this feeling is too enjoyable to let go. You don’t want this to fade.

Just then, Dongmin’s face comes to mind and you think that maybe if you kiss someone else with all you have, you don’t have to think of your shortcomings ever again.

Jaehyun pulls apart and you miss the warmth.

“You’re not… You’re not thinking of me, are you?” he asks. 

You don’t answer, even if the silence is overwhelming.

“I’d rather not have you close your eyes and think of someone else when I’m in front of you.”

“I’m sorry” is all you can say.

“You can at least pretend to love me.” His voice is a hoarse whisper. “Could. It’s not like this was ever supposed to work out.”

You gulp, looking away. “Jaehyun, come on. That’s not like you. We were- we were just… having fun.”

He takes a deep breath. “It hurts to not be wanted by someone you want. You know that. So why are you doing this to me?”

Because misery likes company.

“I’m sorry.”

It seems the phrase you barely uttered when you were younger is tumbling out of your lips in a mixture of grief and pity. Perhaps it’s karma. Perhaps it’s fate. Perhaps it’s just the consequences of your mistakes.

Jaehyun parts his lips, a sigh departing. He leans in again, pushing away all of his thoughts. A little more hurt won't kill him tonight. How and when did you bring him down to his knees?

However, he's stopped by your hands against his shoulders, his lips hovering over yours.

"Let's stop," you say. "You're right."

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

“I don’t- I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.”

You wish you could be brave enough to burn the instruction pamphlet from destiny. But right now, you need to get away from Jaehyun, away from any more misery business.

“I’ll get going,” you say, gathering your stuff. 

Jaehyun hesitates but doesn’t stop you. He would never stop you, can’t stop so how could he even dream of stopping fate? This can never work out. It felt right in the moment but you don’t know anything more than that. You can’t close your eyes and pray everything disappears. No one else will solve your problems for you, you know that.

It’s time you start fixing the mess you made. You leave with a polite goodbye and hear a loud sigh behind you once the door is closed. Blinking away the urge to walk back in, you take long and quick strides to the elevator. You’re going to fix this.

Maybe if Lady Gaga’s ‘Poker Face’ wasn’t blasting at full volume at this stupid office party, you could be thinking a little straighter.

He was right. You can’t pretend anymore. There were thousands of ways this could have gone better. You didn’t have to pretend to be soulmates when you’re not. You could’ve discarded your belief in the whole system like Dongmin and Mijoo and dated someone out of spite. You didn’t have to drag Jaehyun into your sorry mess. You need to take out the nail you hammered into your own foot.

It’s the first time you’ve visited the rooftop restaurant from the company’s subsidiary chain of high-end restaurants but you imagined it would be bigger. It’s the news’ fault for making this place seem like a football field. However, you might be feeling that way because the distance between you and Jaehyun is suffocatingly small as is the distance with Dongmin. You don’t need to see Jaehyun tonight.

You don’t intend to make your confession a public affair and you certainly don’t believe in tack things like atonement. However, improvement begins with a step in the right direction. Maybe you’ll be a better person after this. Maybe you’ll still be as annoying and pushy as ever. You need to get it off your chest so you can proceed with the already tedious journey that comes with a soulmate rejection. You wonder why there’s so many man-made laws about soulmates when fate has made it complicated enough as it is. Love is the same as legalese when it comes to this system.

You flit about the crowds, smiling and greeting people and swerving away from Jaehyun every time he tries to approach you. You’re trying to make a good decision for once. He better not intrude. You’re wearing pink too, for the first time in a while: a satin shirt, pants and blazer set in dull pink.

“Dongmin,” you say, pulling him by the sleeve of his blue tux, and away from the rest of the HR team. “I have to show you something.”

“Hm? Show me?” He blinks at you. 

You get him to follow you to the inside the premises, stopping when you’re far into a 

“Uh?” Dongmin looks around before leaning in to whisper. “You’re not plotting to murder me, are you?”

You blink, and he laughs at you incredulously. “Why are you so serious?”

“I was lying,” you rush. “With Jaehyun. He’s not my soulmate. You are.”

Dongmin blinks in confusion. “Are… you joking? That was a weird joke but it could pass as funny—”

“Dongmin.”

You pull out your shirt from your pants, exposing the tattoo on your hip. It’s the little arrowed heart that has been plaguing you for years but now when you look at it, you feel no animosity. After all, it’s been through the same things you have. 

Dongmin’s face falls into stunned silence, eyes fixated on your waist.

“That’s- That’s my—what is this?”

Russian roulette is certainly not the same without a gun.

“I lied, Dongmin,” you answer, fixing your shirt back in. “I was so afraid of your rejection that I made an even larger fool of myself.”

His initial shock seems to have partly subsided.

“You… Why didn’t you tell me?” He looks momentarily hurt.

“You have Mijoo, Dongmin. I can’t ruin something like that.”

A love that doesn’t need fate to fix it.

Dongmin glances away in guilt and sighs, though the sound is croaky. This must be more than what he can take.

“I’m sorry,” he says, haltingly. “I hurt you, didn’t I? When I thought I was being brave, I hurt you instead.”

You smile bitterly. “We all hurt someone, Dongmin. I still have to fix that one for myself.”

He scans your face, lips trembling slightly as unspoken words die on them.

“We’ll tend to the legal stuff later, hm? No compensation. We can file a mutual rejection.”

“But—”

“Shh. I’m happy enough as coworkers and I get paid more than enough for this job. Might get a promotion soon too.”

You wink at him with an added finger gun, trying to play it cool. Despite everything, a weight feels lifted from your shoulders. Now that you are truly alone, you might as well embrace this growing loneliness crawling under your skin. Discomfort could be something you can get used to. 

When you get back to the warmly lit rooftop, the HR team looks at you curiously. You have the most self-destructive thought you’ve had in a while and tell yourself, you might as well if you've come this far. This is it. This is your social death. Honesty is the best policy, unfortunately.

“Dongmin and I have the same soulmate mark,” you announce. “We’re soulmates but we’ll sign a mutual rejection.”

Doyoung looks almost like he’ll faint and Soojin’s mouth is so wide open, you could practice throwing some mini basketballs in. This is your team—almost a second family, and it’s time you stop trying to hide yourself or disguise your feelings as something they’re not. They’ll get over it, as will you.

“J-Jaehyun?” Soojin looks to your side and you turn to find Jaehyun frowning.

“You could’ve discussed this with me,” he says, an odd sound of relief in his laugh. 

It hurts to look at him but you muster up your strength.

“I’m sorry,” you say, facing him. “I didn’t want to drag you into this hell with me.”

Into this loveless hell made for you.

“(name).”

It’s so painfully quiet in this corner; there are so many eyes on you and only the hurt taking shape in Jaehyun’s eyes knock some sense into you. 

“I’ll leave first,” you say, bowing as you take your leave.

You brisk up your pace and exit the venue as quickly as you can and into the building corridor.

Unfortunately for you, you recognize the pair of footsteps that follow you—both of them having their timings wrong. Boys don’t chase after the girl when she’s walking away. Boys should leave a girl alone when she feels like she’s about to cry.

You turn to face two men and groan internally. This is the worst possible situation—you’d rather crawl into a hole than look at either of them. The corporate light shines harshly on either of their faces but the look on them is so earnest, you want to close your eyes and scream. You don’t mind being alone. You were overstepping when you wished you weren’t.

“(name),” Dongmin starts. “I’m sorry it turned out this way. If you’d told me, we could have talked this out.”

A light scoff leaves Jaehyun and Dongmin purses his lips. It’s kind of funny watching both of their tall frames in hesitant postures and you cross your arms. You’re going to deal with this quickly like you always should have. If you’re dealing with fate, you need to have a clear head—and fortune doesn’t favour fools. Being with Jaehyun was nice but he is not yours. Dongmin may have been assigned to you but you’d rather not ruin someone’s relationship.

“What would we have talked about?” you ask. “Compensation charges? Apologies?”

You see a hint of positivity on Jaehyun’s face and turn to face him, frowning.

“And you. Don’t look so smug. You’re the reason I realized this crap. It hurts. Like hell.”

He opens his mouth but no words come when he’s far too taken aback. He can’t offer consolation now, not after everything. You knew this would happen. You would undoubtedly end up wishing you didn’t fall in love with him on the day you leave.

“(name). Listen to me,” Dongmin calls again, voice gentle.

Jaehyun sighs. “We’re both fucking this up, dude.”

Dongmin takes a sharp breath.

“You know, soulmates can be platonic,” he reasons, looking only at you. “People are made for each other differently and maybe you and I—”

“You’re just making her feel worse,” Jaehyun cuts him off.

“How do you know that?” Dongmin asks, finally turning to him. “Because you’ve spent a month or two with her? I’m her soulmate.”

“I think a month or two is much better than a stranger with the same damn birthmark.”

“Oh come on,” Dongmin scoffs. “The system exists for a reason.”

“I don’t give a shit about the system. The same as your girlfriend—oh, sorry, did you forget about her already?”

“It’s not like that.” Dongmin quietens. “We’ll figure something out.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. They’re worse than you are—honestly, you don’t know what you expected from the timid emotional maturity of men. Both of their polite facades have melted and you’re starting to miss their sweet-tempered work demeanour.

“Come with me,” Dongmin tells you.

He wraps his hand around your wrist and tugs, Jaehyun visibly tensing up at the gesture. He presses his tongue against his cheek in annoyance but refrains from doing anything rash. You feel sorry when you look at him.

“Dongmin,” you whisper. “Can we- can we have a moment?”

Dongmin nods in understanding and exits the hallway to cool off with a few splashes of water in the washroom.

“Would you go with him?” Jaehyun asks, jaw clenched. “An acquaintance as most? Are you willing to run into the arms of fate that you hated so much?”

He looks bitter and you can’t think of a sugar-coated response. You’ll just have to tell him how you feel.

“I need to sort things out, Jaehyun. This—”

You point from him to yourself.

“Couldn’t work out thanks to fate. Dongmin and I will never work out because he’s braver than I am. You know he’s doing all of that just so I don’t get hurt, right? He’s not suddenly in love with me.”

Jaehyun purses his lips, looking down to his feet. Is it so bad that he let jealousy get the best of his mouth? Envy isn’t so awful. He looks from your eyes to lips and wishes he were young enough to believe in fairytales.

“You don’t have to be brave,” he whispers. “You don’t have to be so brave to fall in love. You don’t have to be brave to stay with me.”

“We tried, Jaehyun. And we can’t cheat fate. That, at the very least, requires bravery.” 

You press your lips into a thin line. It hurts. It hurts so bad to look at him and face the consequences of this flawed design. It’s unfair. It’s unfair that you have to follow the rules even after trying your best to break them. 

“You wish you never met me, don’t you?” you whisper. “I made a mess.”

Before he responds, you bow in a short goodbye and walk towards the elevator. There’s no footsteps behind you, no Prince Charming. It’s just you and your high heels clacking against the cold marble as you head back to an empty home. You always thought freedom would feel different, that distance would give you perspective. It just feels awful when no one is around you at all. When you have no one to pick up morning calls from, receive texts from asking if you ate, spend time in peace without uttering a single word—are you free or are you lonely?

The rules state that the two of you are different. It is true. You are as different as love in real life and love in the movies; and neither of them have happy endings now.

You wish you drank some more last night if you were going to embarrass yourself like that. Thankfully, it’s the weekend and you have two more days to figure out how to face your coworkers. You frown when you think of Jaehyun. Were you wrong to tell him that you simply couldn’t choose him? What if fate is right and it falls apart? You stir your morning coffee, the will to drink it fading slowly. It’s already fallen apart—and it wasn’t fate who did that, it was you. Should you have taken his stupidly warm hands and asked him to follow you? You don’t understand how it works at all.

Centuries of questioning what love is, poking and prodding at it like a lab sample, and there’s still no perfect answer. Love is blind. Love is cruel. Love is a fever. Love is temporary insanity. Love is acceptance. Love will set you free. There’s just too many variations. You can never tell if fate is meant to make it easier or worse. 

No one questions you at the office and you're not sure if you’re glad or aggravated. Only Doyoung shoots you a pitiful look which you brush off and immediately get into work. Embarrassment is only real if you acknowledge it. However, every time Dongmin tries to talk to you, you ask for space and even alone in your thoughts, you don’t get it. They just have to drift to Jaehyun.

You wonder if what he said was true, that he wanted you enough to forget the system. It’s clearly ruined now. The spiral of thinking has you zoning out during work more often than not and even Doyoung ends up reprimanding you for your lack of focus. Sometimes you want to snap but other times, you’re just hopelessly reciting the events over and over in your head. This was supposed to happen, wasn’t it? You don’t even have the strength left in you to blame it all on Jaehyun.

You pace in the corridors after work, contemplating popping by the Marketing Department. What could go wrong? Sure, it was a little dramatic of you to leave like that but everything can be fixed, right? You groan. What you were supposed to be fixing, you made worse. Are your hands cursed or something? You shake your head, returning to your desk to gather your belongings and head home.

Unfortunately, the sight of Doyoung sitting in your chair alarms you and you stop a foot away. 

“If you’re going to reprimand me for watching cat videos instead of checking the employee records, I can assure you my efficiency is still top-notch.” 

“You’re—what? Never mind.” Doyoung shakes his head. “Can you give this ginseng pack to Jaehyun? I owe him.” 

Oh no. You know where this is going.

“You know I’m going to keep that for myself, right?” You make a face. “I’d rather die than face Jaehyun right now.”

Doyoung shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll be the one running to you. This is in case of an emergency.”

You give him a fake smile and Doyoung shakes his head. “Good to see you’re still great at pretending to be fine.”

You sigh. “Thanks for looking out for me, bossman.”

Doyoung blinks, hand covering his mouth when an audible gasp leaves him. “Woah. I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you thank me. But don’t call me bossman ever again.”

“Noted,” you say, taking your bag and leaving with a short goodbye. You’re lucky he lets you off work early, even if you never took it. Employees usually can’t leave until their superiors does and if you were a senior employee, you’d be giving your juniors quite the hell.

You seem to be good at concocting hellscapes. Perhaps, you should look for job openings in the underworld. One last thought of Jaehyun exits your head and you take the bus home, admiring the city you live in and the warmth of people and their relationships. You don’t feel jealous; you just bask in them for the time—be it a mother and her son or two bickering sisters or a lovely old couple. That’s how it’s meant to be, then. That’s how love works.

Jaehyun smacks his head against the sofa armrest for the fifteenth time in a row.

“Dude. You’re going to permanently ruin the fabric.” Sicheng says, eyes trained on his laptop screen.

“I should’ve said something more.” Jaehyun’s voice is so zombie-like, he thinks he should cast himself in the Train to Busan sequel as an extra.

“I’m glad I’m not you,” Sicheng mutters.

“Can you give me some sort of consolation, at least?”

“That’s not what I’m your friend for.”

Jaehyun sighs and resumes smacking the back of his head against the armrest. He really needs to figure this out. After all, he can’t really Google the solution to this.

“One thing doesn’t make sense,” Sicheng says, finally looking up from his screen. “Why do you have the same mark as (name)’s if you’re not soulmates?”

“You’re so incredibly—but adorably—stupid, Sicheng. She drew it in with a permanent marker. She kissed me too! It was sudden and weird but I didn’t mind it.

“Yikes.” Sicheng makes a face. “So… you didn’t take a shower for how long now?”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

“The ink hasn’t washed off. I heard you singing in the shower yesterday, how could you not have washed that off? Ugh. Don’t tell me you miss her.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen as he jumps up and rushes to the washroom. Looking into the mirror, the tattoo poking out from his T-shirt resembles yours a lot more than his. The arrow is still drawn in. Jaehyun’s shoulder slumps. He doesn’t know what he was expecting. Turning the tap and letting the water flow, he wets his hand and rubs at his collarbone to remove the arrow.

Except it doesn’t budge. His skin turns painfully red from the rubbing but the ink, which usually washes off in less than five minutes has no intention of leaving. Did you use a different brand of marker the last time? When was it anyway? 

Jaehyun breathes out, firming his resolve. He needs to be with you.

Sicheng blinks in surprise as Jaehyun grabs his car keys, not even bothering to change from an all-black getup of a T-shirt and jeans like some emo teenager, and shuts the front door behind him. Not even a ‘goodbye, I’m leaving!’

Sicheng sighs. Love makes people crazy. He’s not falling into that trap when his soulmate literally doesn’t exist, the same as his soulmark. It seems the contestants in this game are full of exceptions.

You hit your head against your pillow. To visit Jaehyun or not to. You haven’t left your bed since you woke up around seven in the morning, and now it’s ten. Your bedsheets are a mess because you’ve rolled around too much on them (in despair, not with someone unfortunately).

You need the quiet sometimes to let your mind rest, to let your heart rest. You needed time. But maybe it’s been long enough and now you’re just searching for excuses to hold on to your last shred of dignity.

You lift your head up and glare at the box of ginseng on your table. Should you? You reluctantly get up, feeling a sting of pain in your back for lying in that awkward position for so long. Right when you’ve put on your slippers, the doorbell rings and you groan. How did the package you stress-ordered last night arrive so early? These deliveries are getting faster and faster.

You walk to the front door and open it thoughtlessly, freezing up at the sight. Your first reaction is to cover yourself. You’re not exactly your best-looking version at the moment. Jaehyun’s dark circles almost match yours but he’s better dressed than you are—in a black T-shirt and jeans while you’re wearing a Gudetama pajama set.

“We’re not just friends,” he blurts. “We’re not soulmates but we’re not just friends.”

“Huh? Oh my god, this is the most embarrassing I’ve looked.”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows in a question look. 

“That’s not important! Look—”

He pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. His hair is so disheveled and messy, he barely even looks like the same well-maintained marketing employee you know. 

Jaehyun tugs at his T-shirt, pulling down to reveal his tattoo—albeit with your marker-drawn arrow through it. He does have a pretty well-built chest, you note before chiding yourself for getting distracted.

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you, uh, need help scrubbing it off or something?”

“No.” Jaehyun lets out a huff of exasperation. “It won’t wash off. If it’s what I think it is—”

“Miracles don’t happen to people like us, Jaehyun,” you say quietly.

He gulps. “I don’t know about miracles but… I just needed an excuse to see you, I guess.”

You look up, a rose blush over Jaehyun’s bare face, and run your finger over the tattoo, sighing at the warmth of his skin. Your hand travels up to his cheek, resting atop it while you muster enough courage to look Jaehyun in his chocolate brown eyes.

You pull away. This isn’t the time. You still have an internal crisis to sort out. Are you even deserving of love? It makes much more sense if the answer is no. 

However, Jaehyun pulls you in by the waist, his right palm warm against your cheek.

“I don’t care what anyone says.” He runs his thumb over your cheek in a painfully fond manner. “You’re worth more than the price I pay for this.”

He leans in and presses his lips to yours swiftly, your head clearing of thoughts almost immediately. It feels so right, you can feel the spark, the red thread around your skin, hear the bells. This kiss was far more perfect than it was supposed to be.

You part, gasping. Jaehyun blinks at you, breathing heavily.

“Kiss me again.”

Jaehyun does as told and you might just believe in miracles this way. With his hand around your waist and in your hair, his lips over yours and the low rumbling laughter that parts the two of you—you might just believe in miracles. You might just believe that love isn't something you deserve by earning.

“I like this,” Jaehyun comments. “I like the way this is.”

You press your finger to his lips. “I think you should shut up and kiss me some more.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I know you’re sexually repressed as of now, but that’s no reason to take advantage of me.”

You scowl, punching him on the shoulder and moving away from him.

“Come back,” he complains in a quiet voice.

“I am not going to do that.” You cross your arms.

“Come on,” he mutters, inching closer as you inch away, till your back hits the couch and you tumble backwards onto it, your legs on the headrest. Jaehyun laughs at your position, leaning in to keep his hands on either side of you, a doting look over him.

“Hey, did you know if I kicked my leg up, it would hit you in the balls?”

“Please don’t do that.”

You giggle, Jaehyun’s nose rubbing against yours in a bunny kiss. 

“Is your place usually this much of a mess?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. 

You sigh heavily. “I was having a bad day, okay? Or… a bad weekend.”

“Do you even have food?”

You look away, crossing your arms. Jaehyun sighs and shakes his head.

“We should go grocery shopping. How do you live like this?”

You scoff. “Oh, spare me the lecture. I’ve heard enough horror stories about your room from Sicheng. You can’t hide from me by sweeping your clothes and belongings into his room.”

“Snitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You can’t help the giggle that erupts from your mouth and you immediately cover it. Jaehyun smiles at you fondly and you look away, unable to bear that gaze of his.

“It really won’t wash off, by the way,” Jaehyun states, scratching at his collarbone.

You narrow your eyes, smacking his arms away to roll off the couch. Taking his wrist, you walk into your bathroom and turn the tap on. Something’s strange. But also strangely right.

“Look, I already tried—ow! Don’t rub that hard!”

You blink in confusion, trying again despite Jaehyun looking like his soul already left him. It doesn’t work. Your marker isn’t even that permanent. At least his regenerating skin cells should get rid of that arrow. Unless the ink was deep enough to pierce all the layers, as in a soulmark.

You gasp.

“You were right!”

“I told you s—”

"That's the point, isn't it?" you say, realization dawning as your eyes widen. "To see if people will question the system at all."

Jaehyun shrugs. “Maybe.”

"Oh, all those unhappy marriages that could have been saved," you say as you exhale. 

Jaehyun chuckles lightly. "I think that the point was, people can be happy without their soulmates. It's whoever you make one out of. Or I Googled too many articles on anti-soulmate propaganda."

You smile, leaning in to press a kiss against his cheek. Watching his ears turn bright red is the cherry on top.

“Okay, fake-boyfriend-turned-real-soulmate.” You give him a cheeky smile. “Did you rethink your decision about sharing that Netflix password with me? I get the girlfriend free pass, right? Right?”

“I didn’t even share it with my mother.”

You whack his arm, him possibly used to it by now, judging from his lack of response. 

“Idiot.” You cross your arms. “We can Netflix… and chill then. God, I can’t believe I said that.”

Jaehyun breaks into a chuckle. “You’re so pushy.”

 “And you like being pushed around, nerd.”

“Who said that?”

Jaehyun wraps his arms around you, spinning you so that your back hits the door. He leans in to kiss you again and you smack your palm over his pouted lips. You laugh at his face, his eyes brimming with confusion.

“You’re in my apartment. I make the rules here. Think twice before you start a game with me, Mister.”

His shoulders droop. “Fine. Can you at least let me kiss you four times a day?”

“Five times, if you ask.”

He laughs before leaning in again. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“You are one hell of a woman. Emphasis on hell.”

You laugh and grab his collar, pulling him in for the kiss that seals this deal.

You realize a few things in the moment: a) You don’t have to play roulette to find love, b) You don’t have to pick your poison to find love, and most importantly c) Love is right where you make something of it. Fate is still not in your good books but if it bends to you this way, you don’t mind at all. If Jaehyun kisses you like this every day, you don’t mind one bit. 

[willwriteforhugs]

you saved me- park seonghwa

seonghwa x reader - one shot !

word count: 2k

genre: fluff, meet-cute

synopsis: a busy and cold winter day leads you to a (very close) brush with death. but a stranger seems to be in just the right place at just the right time...

warnings: mentions of loneliness, near car accident (nothing too serious)

a/n: 

me as i open tumblr with the intent of actually posting for once: god i need to go post something so i feel less bad about being alive

so, anyways. first seonghwa fic- which is really just a long drabble. i always knew i wanted a seonghwa meet-cute, and this idea just seemed to suit him... please remember that this is for entertainment purposes only, though, so be respectful! (also, ^^^THIS genre of seonghwa pic, with the grainy filter and the tan...bruh...)

 anyways, i hope you enjoy, and as always- thank you for reading :)

- - -

your breath comes out in short, angry puffs, which you can see reflected in the cold afternoon air. the temperature in seoul is absolutely freezing, and you are not dressed for it. when you had left for work this morning, (in your standard sweater + jeans combo) you clearly were not anticipating that the sky would dump snow all day long. you long desperately for your warm winter coat.

so now, here you are: jogging, but only as quickly as you feel is safe in this weather. your condo is only a few blocks down- hence why you had walked in the first place, and why you hadn’t brought cash to pay for a bus. but god, the cold is just piercing.

the streets are practically empty, because of the terrible weather. so, at the very least, you are spared the embarrassment of having to waddle awkwardly on the ice in front of others.

but, to add to the stress- your day had seriously not gone as planned.

 when you first took it, you thought that the simple receptionist job would be easy- and doubly so with the convenient location. but these past few weeks were proving you wrong, today especially. while being distracted by coworkers, you accidentally put an important client on a somewhat permanent hold, and ruined a potential sale. as if that wasn’t enough, the next call you routed to a completely different office by mistake, earning you a strict talking to by the supervisor. 

so, to put it plainly: you were tired, annoyed, and cold. so. freaking. cold.

heaving a sigh, you continue your jog/waddle towards your street corner, which is two intersections away. faintly, you can hear a city bus approaching, the one that always stops near your work building. from where you are standing, the bus will be driving perpendicular to you, and you cock your head in thought. you don’t need the shuttle itself, since you live so close, but you wonder how close the bus is now...

feeling a sudden burst of energy, you speed up a bit, challenging yourself to beat the bus to the empty corner, even though you know it won’t stop there. this is something you do often- set up little games for yourself. it’s mostly an attempt to stay busy, but- though you’d never admit it, it helps with the loneliness too. when you race against the clock (say, to make a speedrun to the copy room at work) it almost feels like you are competing against an old friend.

you obviously know that you can’t beat the bus, but the thought itself is entertaining, so you throw caution to the wind. your feet slap the pavement as you run, and you hear yourself laugh a little. the cold air rushing by your cheeks helps distract you from your own thoughts.

you sprint through an empty intersection, and as you approach the final corner- having obviously lost the race to the bus- you begin to slow down a bit. but as you near the end of the sidewalk, (which is parallel to the moving bus, whose hulking body is getting ready to pass you) you feel your previous momentum get the better of you. 

you stumble off of the curb- and right into a vicious patch of ice on the waiting asphalt. 

it happens in slow motion: your feet slide harshly backwards, and you scramble for any traction- but to no avail. you hear yourself cry out as you fall forward, right into the path of the oncoming shuttle.

you slam your eyes shut.

but instead of hitting the ground, or the bus, a sudden weight catches you around your middle and lurches backwards. you scream again, certain you’ve already died.

you hear the sound of the bus honking as it speeds by- the only thing traveling faster than it is your frantic pulse.

you hit the ground hard, with all of your weight on your left shoulder and hip. even so, you start with the relief of knowing the bus didn’t even graze you. 

only after a moment do you realize why it hadn’t.

someone had caught you.

grabbed you from behind, and used their whole body weight to get the two of you to safety. 

you lurch forward, startled. as you turn around, you see him lying on the ground, in the same position you were in just seconds before- and you meet the eyes of the person who’d just saved you. 

it’s a man- a young one. and good god, he’s beautiful, too. the boy on the ground before you is seriously the epitome of korean beauty- large, dark eyes, an open face, and full lips. as soon as he opens his mouth, you wonder at how his teeth could possibly be so perfect.

it takes you a moment of staring before you realize he’s speaking to you. 

“um.” your voice breaks. “what?”

the boy scrambles onto his knees, shuffling towards you. “i asked if you’re alright- are you hurt?” his voice is concerned, and his hands flutter about your face- too wary to touch you, but clearly wanting to.

his eyes are more genuine than you can even take in, and you hesitate at the whole scene- what the hell is happening? did you hit your head?

you stutter, trying to make sense of the situation. the boy leans back on his heels as you finally catch your breath. 

your words are breathy, but deliberate. “you- you saved me.”

the boy tilts his head slightly, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards. “yes, i suppose i did.” a beat passes before he continues. his eyes, though now bordering on playful, still look worried. “you probably shouldn’t be running in this sort of weather.”

you heave a sigh that comes out in a laugh. “yeah, i realize that now.”

your counterpart picks himself up off the ground, brushing off his front. he then extends a hand towards you. you stare at it for a moment, confused. for a moment, he looks down at you intently, waiting. your puzzlement passes, and you blush as you cautiously place your palm in his, allowing him to help you up. 

“i’m seonghwa, by the way. park seonghwa.” the man- no, seonghwa looks down at you, letting his sentence hang.

you clear your throat, feeling a harsh wave of embarrassment at the situation. “um- i’m y/n.”

seonghwa nods at you, taking a step back. his brow is furrowed. “well, y/n-ssi- you didn’t actually tell me if you were hurt or not. do you feel dizzy? nauseous?”

you throw your hands up in protest, not wanting to cause any more distress than you already had. “no, uh- i’m fine, really. maybe a little bruised, but i’m okay. i think it would be a bigger problem if you were hurt...”

you are not exaggerating- you can only imagine the guilt you would feel if he’d been injured. 

seonghwa represses a smile. “i’m alright too. you did startle me, though. thought i was about to witness something pretty terrible...”

at this, you give a surprised chuckle. “yeah, i’m so sorry...you really came out of nowhere, huh? i seriously didn’t even know you were there until i was on the ground!”

this time, it’s his turn to laugh. “yeah, those bus stops provide great cover.”

the two of you settle into a stiff silence, and you can practically hear your heart pounding- both with leftover adrenaline, as well as the sudden nerves that seonghwa was giving you.

“here,” he says, breaking the quiet. “take this.” he shrugs off his long winter coat, and before you can argue, he’s reached over and settled it on your shoulders. the relief is near instantaneous, but you find yourself a bit too tongue-tied to thank him.

you sigh again, determined to get the words out. “oh, god, i really am so sorry about that, um-” you stutter. “i really should thank you, for the coat. but also-” you take a deep breath. “thank you, park seonghwa, for saving my life.”

at this, the man actually blushes. he reaches a hand to rub the back of his neck. “no, really, it was just a gut reaction...”

you shake your head, insistent. “it doesn’t matter. i could have died, but you prevented that. now-” you can feel yourself gaining confidence. “what can i do to repay you?”

seonghwa’s face, which had previously harbored a look of child-like innocence, suddenly turns mischievous. 

you tilt your head, indicating an answer.

his smug smile is full now, chin tilted upwards. “i actually do have a request.”

“okay, shoot.”

“you’ll do anything i ask?”

you frown, narrowing your eyes in an almost flirtatious way. “i suppose i have a few limits...”

to your surprise, seonghwa interrupts you, eyes twinkling. “you’ll repay me- by allowing me to take you out on a date, y/n.”

your mind goes fully blank for a moment. 

...huh?

you blink in shock, not being able to suppress your initial reaction. “wait, come again?”

“will you go on a date with me?”

you stare at him- this terrifyingly beautiful man was asking you on a date? after you’d fully humiliated yourself in front of him? what on earth?

suddenly, before you can even finish the thought, you find yourself nodding. “i suppose i can arrange that.”

seonghwa’s smile is completely smug at this point. “does tonight work?”

you bite your lip, heart pounding despite the chilly weather. your voice comes out in a whisper: “yes, i suppose tonight works.”

seonghwa tries to bury his smile and looks at the ground. “that’s great.” he pauses, allowing his gaze to flit back to you. “do you- i hope this doesn’t sound weird, but do you want me to walk you home?”

you smile, but shake your head. “it’s alright, i live close. here- i’ll give you my number, though.”

you dig through your work satchel for a piece of paper and scribble your phone number on it. when you extend it, he accepts the slip, still trying to suppress his grin.

a beat passes, and the two of you look at each other intently.

and with that, seonghwa reaches down and gently takes your hand, glancing at your face to make sure the action is alright with you. when you don’t pull away, he lifts it up and presses a soft kiss to the top of your hand, holding your gaze the entire time. his lips are cold, an unlikely and romantic nod to the temperature.

you feel your neck and cheeks go red, but you smile in an attempt to seem casual. “thanks again, seonghwa. for helping me.”

“of course.” the man’s eyes are twinkling again. “as grim as it sounds, i’m sort of glad it happened. if it hadn’t, i probably wouldn’t be talking with you right now.”

you smirk in what you hope is a flirtatious manner. 

“well,” he continues. “don’t let me keep you. after all, you’ve got a date to get ready for.”

seonghwa begins to walk away, then turns back. “although,” he calls over his shoulder. “i’m pretty sure the guy you’re meeting with won’t care what you’re wearing. you could probably show up in your pajamas and he’d still think you were gorgeous. just for the record.”

before you could manage an answer, he turns on his heel and strides away- but even from here, you can tell he still has a goofy grin plastered on his face.

heart pounding, you turn and make your way towards your apartment building. 

despite yourself, you also can’t seem to keep the grin off of your face.

[gold-eye]

another gold-eye analysis: wither roses

finals have ended, and hence my analysis resumes. obligatory prefaces: spoilers for Dream SMP lore, and I’m referring Only to characters. 

okay, I've been thinking about this for about a year now. let’s talk about wither roses. of course, there’s its obvious ties to the wither, which in turn links it to so much other violence - certainly, we’re all aware of the role withers have played throughout the lore. but i want to look specifically at the wither rose.

Roses, in general, are linked to love - be it the scarlet rose for passionate love, a white rose for innocent love, or a blush pink rose for blossoming love. When we turn to a black rose, things get a bit more complex. Depending on the period when the flower appears, it represents birth and renewal or death and tragedy. The simplest combination of those two is change, be it positive or negative. Referring back to the rose’s origin of love, it could be turned into “a love of that which changes” or “a love for change itself.” 

Within the scope of Minecraft mechanics, the wither rose gives the withering effect. It drains one’s life, making it difficult (if not impossible) to know how much health you have left. In the simplest of terms, it is a corruption of the life that players have come to know.  

Knowing that there is also a regular rose, one can’t help but wonder what must have happened to create the wither rose. Perhaps it was once a rose as we would recognize it, but something must have changed. The wither rose is a twisting of life until it is almost unrecognizable, save by name. 

What catches my eye is Kate Greenaway’s Language of Flowers, wherein she refers to white withered roses as “transient impressions.” Greenaway doesn’t mention black roses at all - the above definitions are pulled from other references - so we are left to make our own conjectures. personally, i take interest in the black withered roses being the inverse. the white withered rose indicating a lack of permanence would imply that the black withered rose indicates a damning permanence. factoring in the black rose’s symbolism of death, it becomes an extended death that never leaves you. as the name implies, it could simply be death with reference to losing all canon lives - or it could be a state of limbo. not quite dead, not quite alive. continually in the process of dying.

Now, you may be asking - where do wither roses tie into the lore? 

We don’t see wither roses often on the DSMP, and when we do, they seem to be intentionally placed. Here are some brief initial thoughts, from which I invite you to make your own hypotheses. 

Dream XD’s lore video: In the background of the room where Punz and Dream stand, we see a handful of wither roses. From my perspective, this hardly needs more explanation: Dream keeps Lazar and Vikkstarr in a perpetual state of undying - reviving them over and over. I’ve already talked a bit about this - you can see my post about the deaths in Dream XD’s lore video for more. 

One more thing of note on this: there’s a distinct camera shift in the video from Dream and Punz to focus on a wither skull in the background. It takes three wither skulls to spawn the beast: Dream and Punz make two, with the third in the background. Driving the wither symbolism home, aren’t we? 

The Banquet: Wither roses appeared on the table of the Red Banquet, just a few blocks away from the Egg itself. The Egg is another marked instance of a corruption of power. Hell, the Egg is known for making its way into people’s minds and corrupting them. In my mind, the presence of wither roses marks the Egg’s corruption as something greater. From the Red Banquet stream, we know that the Egg requires energy from deaths to hatch. Perhaps some of that energy is taken from BadBoyHalo and Antfrost, as well as other members of the Eggpire, but the Egg still needs them to further its own goals. So it leaves them in a state in between - their life being drained away, but their death is unreachable until they are no longer of use to the Egg. 

Later on, Tubbo and Ranboo return to the banquet room. Tubbo takes a wither rose from the table. I haven’t had the chance to watch the VOD to know exactly where it goes, but it does suggest the potential for a darker path in Tubbo. Personally, I think Tubbo deserves the chance to move past any previous inhibitions and fucking assassinate someone - Sam would be my choice, given his recent actions. (Edit: I mean, he did a little bit. But still. Let Tubbo go batshit. He deserves it.)

Tales from the SMP - The Maze: Everyone received a wither rose at the start, and they played a prominent role throughout the stream. When they’re sent back to the beginning, and the gamemaster reveals what happened, the meaning of the wither roses becomes clear. Life in the maze is a rose - it has an ending, even if it has thorns. When the gamemaster sends them back to the end, it transforms and reveals itself as a wither rose. It’s not a life, nor is it a death, and the harm is real and painful. 

The Inbetween: (Written before The Maze.) This one ties in almost directly to the idea of the wither rose being an extension of death or something in between. The Inbetween is exactly that - it’s not quite death, nor is it life. When we finally see Karl make it to the Other Side, he is greeted by a white tulip, which often symbolize forgiveness. It’s almost sweet, in its juxtaposition: the Other Side greets him immediately with forgiveness after the In Between spent so long threatening Karl and the people he cared about if he strayed even slightly. 

The Syndicate: This one will depend on how you feel about the Syndicate. Some will say that the syndicate is corrupt - they’ve taken power on their own terms. Personally, I prefer to think of it this way: by the very nature of the Dream SMP, their work will never be done. Destruction will follow in their wake for as long as the server exists, because the very evils that they seek to destroy are what make the server what it is.  

Hannahxxrose: Hannah has always been connected to nature.  Hannah’s house used to be surrounded by roses. Over the course of many lore streams, we see wither roses begin to appear amidst them, harvested during a time of peace. This is strange, in many ways - why would she intentionally surround herself with roses that give her a weakening effect? The answer lies in her potential. Perhaps she is beginning a route down a darker path. Perhaps she is still suffering at the hands of someone else who has twisted power for their own means. Or perhaps she has grown tired of her passive growth and has decided to wield her roses - red and withered alike - for her own means.  

The commonality between all of these instances: power. These are instances where people have taken power into their own hands. One could argue that this is a corruption of the game itself - Minecraft is designed to allow the player freedom in what they choose to do, from speedrunning to storytelling. When certain players take such power into their own hands, it changes the way that the game is played, and over time, it can change the player as well. 

Only time will tell where the next wither rose will put down its roots. 

[prettycooregrey]

aaaaaaaa @yukiyuuki‘s tags are so good it makes me want to talk abt what I think this panel means some more,,,,

the panel in question:

Post under the cut!

So when I was in middle school I had this blowout fight with my dad about something stupid and it escalated into yelling. But y’know, yelling back at your parents gets you in even deeper shit, so like... it’s best not to.

We had this cheap set of window blinds at the time that we got from a discount outlet that were “supposed” to look like wood but were really just plastic and tbh you couldn’t fool anyone. So in the middle of this fight I feel like I’m going to explode because I’m trapped in a fight with my dad and he’s yelling at me--instead of yelling back, I turned around and sank my teeth into the blinds like a bite block.

Again: these were made of cheap plastic and it left a very clear indent of my teeth. But the blinds were newish, they were a pain in the ass and took two men with DIY know-how to put them up, and my parents had to be careful with money, so they weren’t replaced for many years after. Any time I walked into the kitchen I would see it, and I would feel (irrationally, mind you) ashamed at my “loss of control.”

That’s what the phone is to Mike.

He’s had it for a very significant portion of the comic, over 40 chapters.

This is Call Waiting, page 2. It was posted in June 2011, just over ten years ago now. This is a very long ways back from the current chapter (Eternal Flame).

Oliver’s commentary on the page notes that Mike’s family is pretty comfortable as, in 2008, an iPhone would have been pretty expensive -- especially for a teenager. Mike was so desperate for the phone that he cashed in his birthday and Christmas presents for it so he could text Sandy.

sidenote: It’s been mentioned, probably by Mod Brambles iirc, that Mike’s lockscreen has never changed. It has always been this picture of Sandy from when they were much younger.

During their fight/breakup, Mike threw it very hard and with very little care across the room, causing the screen to crack. Presumably, like my window blinds, this serves as a permanent physical reminder of what happened that night. The phone is his link to Sandy, and represents nearly the whole of their relationship. Every since getting together, Mike and Sandy have met face-to-face twice, and all other communication has been through letters and phone lines. Mike’s cell phone is representative of them as a couple.

And... it’s about what you’d expect from two teenagers who have nothing in common.

In page 64 of Eternal Flame, Mike looks down at his cracked screen and tells his friend that they’re going to “get rid of distractions.”

As yukiyuuki said in their tags, this doesn’t just mean Francis. It means Lucy, too. Mike intends to continue his relationship with Sandy through the phone (with promised schedules calls and more frequent replies). But every time he unlocks it to text her... he’s going to see these cracks in the screen.

another sidenote: I don’t believe Mike would go out of his way to fix the phone within the confines of the narrative. The phone is expensive and a repair would be as bad--touchscreen electronics, if not insured, can be less costly to just replace instead of fixing. And while Mike gets along with his parents, unlike my relationship with my dad, he still understandably shrinks like a violet when they’re angry at him. also, Vero would have to dedicate writing/art to a scene as such and she has better things to be working on irt the comic it’s gonna be soooo funny if I’m wrong.

anyway.

additionally, there’s plenty of analysis on the way Mike sees cheating/cheaters and @bramblepaws​ put it a lot better than I ever could have, check it out here. the point is that he takes loyalty and commitment very seriously. while it wasn’t technically cheating since she’d dumped him immediately prior, I’m willing to wager that the fact that Mike went out and kissed Lucy as soon as he was cut loose is going to weight very heavily on their relationship for the rest of the time they’re in it, even and especially if it’s only by his own guilt. he absolutely saw this as a hiccup and not a true breakup, since it probably didn’t even last an hour. so not only was Sandy compromising fidelity, (wrt to Bramble’s post: “I really love him”/”you’re so... nice”), so was he.

after all, this wasn’t exactly the same at the other two kisses they’ve shared...

One of these things is NOT like the others, if you catch my meaning.

And while none of these kisses were technically cheating on Sandy or disrespecting his feelings toward her (the first two were before they got back together and the third is, of course, right after their breakup/makeup), Mike has always looked back on them as such because they represent the idea that when Sandy left, Mike fell in love with someone else and therefore he wasn’t “loyal enough,” hence the trauma surrounding being perceived as a cheater by his peers.

yet another sidenote: it occurs to me that these three kisses each have different instigators. the Confrontation one is instigated by Lucy, the Pillow Talk one is instigated by Mike, and while you could argue that Mike instigated in Eternal Flame, the truth is that they both made the decision and came together into that kiss and therefore it was a mutual decision.

so yeah. not only does Mike have another “tally” in his Wasn’t Faithful box, self-imposed and self-inflicted as it is, but Sandy does as well. Sandy’s as-of-currently [checks time] 4:51pm 7/15/21 emotional unfaithfulness (we don’t know how far it goes as the camera’s not on her, but it was unfaithfulness) paired with this third kiss is the coffin for Mike and Sandy that December was for Mike and Lucy (and in a previous post, I described Mike’s behavior toward Lucy in Eternal Flame as the “final nail,” and while we have yet to see Mike and Sandy’s this is a good way to frame the countless parallels between this chapter and December).

Neither of them are going to be able to forget about it. they’re attached to the point that I would describe their relationship as nearly codependent, and absolutely toxic... but it’s no longer a genuine relationship either of them are taking genuine pleasure in. they’ve each has encounters where they’ve experienced pretty explosive chemistry with other people, but they’ve been together since they were kids and for fear of hurting each other and in the unknown variables of new relationships, they’ve decided to stay together.

(please wear safety goggles in the fireworks lab, folks.)

but again, they won’t forget what happened here, and it’s going to have ramifications for how they move forward. the only thing they’ve done by getting back together is delayed the inevitable and gotten other people hurt in the crossfires.

and that’s what the crack in that panel means.

[lesmond-sycamore]

OH SHIT I FORGOT I FORGOT TO DUMP ABT MY S3 SOREN WHOOPS

OKAY SO first of all I want to say that the biggest reason I think he'd be the final boss is because of the fact that he's literally called the Builder of Worlds in the intro of "The Order of the Stone" like. hello? sounds a little more impressive than "The Redstone Engineer," "The Rougue," and "The Warrior" imo. also, he has a book in every world in the Portal Hall + Fred's Keep, meaning that he's been to all of these seemingly impossible places only available to powerrful people (the Old Builders and the Admins). how else in the world would he be able to get to these places without being powerful himself?

also, the command block. holy shit where did it come from? you can't craft one (there's no proof Ellegaard's would've actually been crafted), so where did it come from? my answer: Soren spawned it in as a way to show off his powers without seeming like he did it on purpose. he tells Jesse that initially, the Order did actually rough it out on adventures, but once they found the command block, they began to use it and rely on it more and more. this begs the question: if Soren's so powerful, why would he go through the trouble of using it? for that, let's look at his past

in my s3, it's explained that Soren created every world, and had 3 children who created the dimensions. "The Sun" created the overworld so that the inhabitants of the worlds could live happily in the day, "The Moon" created the Nether for the adventurers of the worlds, and "The Star" who created the End for ████████████████. these three were dubbed as "The Creators," and they worked together when creating the dimensions, and sprinkled in a litte bit of each other's dimensions in each other ("The Moon" made the nights filled with monsters and filled the End with loot to entice people to journey through the dimensions, "The Sun" made glowstone/shroom lights in the Nether and made end rods in the End to show that no matter the outlook, there's always light (they also made chorus fruit in the End so that people would have something to eat), and "The Star" made the Endermen available to every dimension so that way they'd ████████)

after that, he dedicated admins for every world who would use the dimensions to sculpt the worlds how they saw fit, make/remix mobs, and add their own blocks/mechanics/etc, but most of them became corrupted, ran away, or killed. because of this, he wanted to wipe everything and start again, but he wanted to give his worlds the benefit of the doubt and so, he decided to explore them, hidden amongst the common folk

in every world he traveled to, he was alone, scrounging for resources, not able to use his powers so that he could experience life the way the people who lived on the worlds did. it was... humbling, really. not using your powers is a nice way to really feel alive after getting what you wanted with the clap of your hands for thousands of years. he ended up running into the Old Builders soon after they had formed and joined them (hence the book A Man Voyaging Forever from his time alone). it was with them that he researched and created the redstone heart (hence The Redstone Heart in Harper's lab).

he actually watched The Games (and occssionally participated in them), but once Hadrian and Mevia began to become corrupted, he and Harper dipped to Crown Mesa, where after some time, PAMA happened, and he dipped because PAMA chipping him would be catastrophic. once reaching the world where "A Portal to Mystery" takes place, he began to occasionally study enderman and followed them around, observing them in their hauntings (hence Walking Among the Enderman). unfortunately that world was difficult to really observe them because the world prefered to spawn zombies at any given chance, so he dipped again.

when he made it to Sky City, Benedict was incredibly useful to his research. he befriended Isa and asked her only for the endermen spawn eggs, and in return, he would give her information about mobs that he had acquired over the years so she could know how to get/use the best drops mobs had to offer (hence Habits of the Endermen, whixh he gifted it to her once completed) the only issue was that he couldn't fully observe them in the overworld and thus, he dipped.

that brings us to the world of Fred, Xara, and Romeo. he had joined The Oasis and befriended the admins (although they didn't know who he actually was) and was actually very close friends with Fred. Fred inspired Soren to break the cycle and start a permanent life here (hence A Brave New Enderman), but after Fred died and the world was bedrocked over, he tried to dip again, but was horrified to find that the portal he used to get there was gone. turns out when the Old Builders got to that world to kidnap competitors, they broke and replaced the portal so that it would be on the surface. with this, Soren began a quest to find the portal.

however, once he got to the surface, he had nowhere to start, so he went adventuring again to search for clues. turns out that when you don't adventure for a while, you get rusty, and he almost got seriously injured during a fight with a hoard of spider jockeys. but just when he thought he was going to get seriously hurt, someone (or rather, some people) jumped in to help. these some people where Gabriel and Ivor. the two had become adventuring buddies because Gabriel was the perfect fighter and Ivor was the perfect brewer and enchanter, and they worked really well together. Soren was invited to join the two due to his extensive knowledge of the world, and because he had the ability to be a great member physically once he got back into the swing of things. soon, Ellegaard and Magnus joined the team, and they became the "Stone Age" (this name was changed after the Ender Dragon encounter because they needed something that sounded cooler). at this point, he was quite truthfully happy

but then came the command block. Soren had always carried it as a fail-safe, but when the group began to take on more dangerous challenges and almost fatally wound themselves, he began to use the command block. he had planted it so that it had seemed like it was discovered, but he knew the truth. and with that, he began to use it. not because he wanted the easy way out like Ivor believed, but because he didn't want lose any more of his friends.

that brings us to s1. with Soren losing Magnus/Ellegaard and seeing the destruction and pain he himself had caused because of his command block, he did what he knew best and ran away, leaving his only friends to fend for themselves.

now let's talk about season 2. Ivor doesn't know where he is, but my s3 explains that Soren's lack of an appearance in s2 is because of the fact he was once again trying to run away from his problems, but he still doesn't know where the portal to the portal hall is, and was just roughing it out once again by himself. that is, until he encountered a very particular enderman that doesn't seem to be under the control of the Ender Dragon. despite this new companion, once he's heard about what happened to jesse and the admins, he realizes just how badly he set up the worlds and is back to thinking about wiping the universes clean and starting over, and now, his plan is already underway (hence why the au Jesse shows up in the first place)

now, you may be wondering "how does that make him the final boss?" well, it's simple. before he becomes the last boss of the series, there's another adventure right before it that involves "The Sun," "The Moon," and "The Star" that takes place as the first arc of the game. by the time that arc is finished with, the universes that are being wiped are getting closer and closer to the world he inhabits, making Jesse the only one able to stop him and save the day

[thehotspurs]

profuse amounts of maxiel rambling below, because there’s this one damn song that just reminds me of them so much and i can’t hold it in any longer

SO THE SONG “DECEMBER” BY NECK DEEP RIGHT-

i added it onto my maxiel playlist on spotify a while back and only just sat down and properly clocked how much the lyrics apply to them??

(OBVIOUS DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS ALL IN MY IMAGINATION OKAY NONE OF IT IS REAL (well okay maybe like i little bit might be) TAKE IT WITH A PINCH OF SALT)

“stumbled round the block a thousand times, you missed every call that i had tried so now i’m giving up”

(for context, this song is in max’s POV cerca 2018) the idea that he’s spamming daniel’s phone, trying to get an answer whilst he’s most likely very drunk cuz he’s all depressed from dan leaving is just something that would happen plz

“a heartbreak in mid december you don’t give a fuck, you never remember me”

MID DECEMBER. dan’s last race for red bull was the 25th november, he’d most likely be finished up with everything red bull related in mid december, hence max’s obvious crippling heartache and worries that daniel will basically forget about him once he leaves rb

“while you’re pulling on his jeans, getting lost in the big city”

HIS jeans you cry?? WHOSE??? well, wish i could give you an answer but alas i can’t - that line always escapes my explanation :| could maybe make a tenuous link to “his jeans” meaning some form of renault clothing but hey i’m tryna keep it as real as i can when i’m literally attempting to make lyrics fit to two completely unrelated people! “getting lost in the big city” is just monaco i guess, maybe LA cuz dan loves it so much??

“i was looking out our window, watching all the cars go”

they live (lived?) in the same apartment building!! chances are they share the same view, hence the OUR window

“wondering if i’ll see chicago, or a sunset on the west coast or will i die in the cold, feeling blue and alone”

i just imagine this as max wondering how he’ll spend his winter break: 1. with dan in chicago (or pretty much anywhere in the US) 2. with dan in perth, hence the “west coast” (tenuous, i know) 3. at home in monaco by himself or in holland, without dan (which is devoid of sun and warmth because he’s missing dan)

“i hope you get your ball room floor, your perfect house with rose red doors”

rose red doors. rose red doors. rose red doors. its no secret dan’s dream was/is to drive for ferrari, and what colour do ferrari drive in? rose. red. his perfect house i see as the perfect car (aka one that isn’t as shitty as that 2018 red bull) with the rose red doors as the rose red livery. max hopes dan gets his dream one day, even if that isn’t with him

“i’m the last thing you’d remember, it’s been a long lonely december”

for better or for worse, max is the last thing daniel remembers of redbull. and again, with dan leaving rb officially after the last race in november, max truly is having a long, lonely december without him

“i wish i’d know that less is more, but i was passed out on the floor. that’s the last thing i remember it’s been a long lonely december”

max doing what every good angsty bitch does and drowning his sorrows in alcohol ❤��� perhaps he intended on apologising to dan but drank too much and fucked it up? who knows (not me, i’m just the messenger of whatever my brain brings up at 3am)

“cast me aside to show yourself in a better light, i came out grieving, barely breathing and you came out alright”

it’s no secret rb favoured max and yet forming this exceptional partnership where they respect each other on track and care too much meant no normal team principle would ever think about splitting them up, but dan can’t deal with being the second driver, and so has to cut ties to try and make himself as an individual look better to escape rb. in the end, max loses his best friend, his rock, his anchor, whilst daniel gets what he wanted all along

“but i’m sure you’ll take his hand, i hope he’s better than i ever could’ve been”

bit of a reach (but we love those here), dan shaking cyril’s hand to formalise those contract negotiations and finally getting out of rb. max knows how much he hated it, and he hopes renault can offer daniel what he couldn’t - happiness and success

“my mistakes were not intentions this is a list of my confessions i couldn’t say”

max didn’t intend on causing the crashes in hungary or baku and he’d never dream of wanting rb to favour him over dan. but he just can’t seem to admit it

“pain is never permanent but tonight it’s killing me”

he knows he’ll get over it eventually, but time heals and the wound is ✨fresh✨

“i miss your face, you’re in my head, there’s so many things that i should’ve said”

this is fairly self-explanatory, max just can’t stop thinking about what he could’ve done to stop dan from leaving

“a year of suffering, a lesson learned”

2018 was one big year of suffering. the retirements, the crashes, the contract politics. it was torture.

the rest is pretty much just repeats of the chorus so i won’t bore you with that!! but yeah, my rambling is over. if you made it to this point fair fucking play, i apologise as well because my 3am thoughts are never easy to read.

i’ll link the playlist below if you wanna listen to over 24 hours of songs that remind me of maxiel, no i’m not okay but thanks for asking.

[bts-roses]

Spilling Coffee | 3

➼ summary: You’ve always prided yourself in being a naturally graceful and reliable person. So an internship at BigHit seemed like a walk in the park. That is, until a certain goof slide-kicks you off your feet and makes your life a whole lot harder.

Or 

Namjoon is a misunderstood klutz and y/n thinks too much.

➼ pairing: idol!namjoon x reader

➼ genre: fluff, angst (i’m sorry!!!), idolverse

➼ word count: 2,900

previous | 

‣

You know, Namjoon is certain that he isn’t as clumsy as people make him out a bit. Is he prone to falling over every once in a while? Sure, who wasn’t? But he was sure that he’s not the stumbling fool that people make him out to be.

That was, until he met you.

After coffee incident #2, you started becoming less nervous and more acquainted with him. (Your little crush on the idol has also grown exponentially, but let’s just forget that.) At last, the days of you running away from him were in the past.

It was a few months into your internship that you noticed the changes. Panicked glances evolved into acknowledging smiles in the hallways. Running away from attempts at greetings turned into comfortable small talks in the elevator. Your fear of a certain man jumped into a fondness for a man you could call an acquaintance.

But one thing never changed: Namjoon was still a clumsy piece of shit.

You giggle silently in the meeting room when you make sudden eye contact with Namjoon, who was trying to hide the newly broken water glass, across the room. He shakes his head and starts quietly laughing, exchanging knowing glances with you every so often.

“Okay,” Your boss starts, “Here are the statistics of last year’s sales growth. As you can see...”

The project Mrs Lee was talking about to you was the plannings of the merchandise for BTS’ world tour in the upcoming month, hence the group’s presence in the meeting. Your dedication to your work scored you the temporary role of your boss’ assistant for the duration of the project. You would be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying every single minute of it. Of course, you still had to go on coffee runs and so on but you just knew, Mrs Lee was finally warming up to you.

“I don’t know what to do with this.” Namjoon groans, holding the broken glass in his hand. The meeting was finally over.

“Put it in the bin, you dummy.” You point out, chuckling at his antics.

You don’t notice him smiling at the sound of your laughter. There’s a moment when you are waiting for the elevator doors to open that’s silent. He glances down at you humming a familiar tune and his heart warms at the sight.

“How has your day been?” He starts, making his way into your usual small talk.

“Better now that I’ve seen you break that glass.” You point towards his hands, giving him a mischievous nudge.

“I don’t even mean to do these things you know.” He pouts, “I don’t know why it’s always me.”

You both walk into the square room, shoulders brushing against each other. You smell his scent, loving the way it fills up all of your senses. You unconsciously grin. The pair of you continue your small talk.

These little moments always make your week. You liked learning small trivial bits about him no one else knew. You liked hearing him talking about his day, listening to the passion in his voice when he talks about his fans. Every time you feel yourself falling harder after every word exchanged. You crave more.

Before the conversation can get any deeper, you reach the floor he is needed on. A place where you don’t belong.

“That’s me.” He simply says, turning to give you a little grin.

You hum in response, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. That’s all these moments are: little. Insignificant.

“I’ll see you around okay?” He states, walking backwards without any caution.

Before the doors fully close, you catch him tumbling down on his ass. The ends of your mouth turn upwards and you roll your eyes. He’s so stupid.

Namjoon gets up once he can no longer see you. Turning around with a small spring in his step and a smile permanently plastered on. Maybe walking backwards isn’t the best idea, but Namjoon begs to differ if he can catch just another glimpse of your face.

‣

Namjoon feels his life rush by, not even realising a week has already passed because he’s been mostly locked up inside his studio. He just cannot finish this song. It’s been driving him nuts. There’s just one part that’s missing and he’s been pulling his hair to figure out what it was. Deciding it was best to go get fresh air, he leaves his studio.

On his way out, his heartbeat accelerates when he notices you walking nearby, holding a brown envelope. Without thinking about it, he starts dashing towards you with a smile. Your eyes move towards the sudden motion and they brighten up at the sight of him.

“Hi.” He breathlessly greets.

“Hi.” You reply, mirroring his big grin. God, you’re so cute.

“Uh, you off somewhere?” Namjoon asks.

“I was actually looking for you.”

“M-me?” He stutters, “why?”

He watches your arm move forward to give the envelope to him. He grabs it and looks up at you in confusion.

“Mrs Lee told me to give it to you. I don’t know what it is.” You explain, a pause, “well, I’ll get going now.”

Quickly, you stop moving when you feel his warm hand wrapped around your wrist. You look down, admiring how big his hands were compared to yours.

“No!” He exclaims, “I mean, um, do you want to see my studio? It’ll only take a minute, if you’re not busy?”

“Sure.” You agree thinking he just being nice, you were done for the day anyways.

You look around his studio, smiling at the warm and cozy feeling it radiated. The boy gestures for you to sit down on the couch while he moved to sit on his office chair. Sitting down in his studio, he suddenly felt self-conscious. You guys have never sat down and talked before. Your conversations always occurred when you both were walking places and they normally were cut off short. Now you were both alone in a room. His palms started sweating at the thought.

“I haven’t been seeing you around much.” You point out, trying to fill the silence in the room.

He frowns at the realisation. The man hasn’t seen you all week. He’s missed you.

“Yeah. I’ve been in here working. Guess I got too into it.” He admits, looking down at his lap.

You nod in understanding. It goes quiet again. Glancing up at his face you can tell that he hasn’t been getting rest and you frown at the thought. For the past few months BTS was supposed to be having a small break but you guess that they still must’ve been working hard. Even more so with the tour coming up. You look at the time. It’s just turned six. He should go home, you think. Before you get up and leave, hoping that gives him the opportunity to get sleep, he opens his mouth.

“How was your day?” He asks, an expression you can’t read on his face.

Great. Small talk. Again.

“It was alright.” You smile politely, “And yours?”

“It’s been fine.” He says, not knowing why the conversation was dying all of a sudden. It normally flows automatically.

Feeling awkward, you take in his appearance: he’s dressed comfortably in an expensive hoodie and loose pants. Because of his importance, he doesn’t really have a dress code and he can wear what he wants. You would be killed if you came into work so casual like that. You compare his attire to yours. Dressed in the uncomfortable second-hand dress you had to sew so it could fit, you think to yourself. You don’t belong here.

“So...” He begins, “are you hungry? I can order some food here.”

Your face turns in confusion at the randomness of his suggestion.

“Do you not wanna go home or something? Or are you not still working?” You query, looking at his computer with his song on.

Namjoon follows your eyes and turns back to see his computer. He sighs, “Nah I’m having a bit of a block right now and frankly, I’m starving.”

“As long as I’m not intruding, then sure.” You comply, secretly wanting more time with him.

“Great,” he reaches for his phone, “We should get some pizza, I know a really nice place that makes the best Hawaiian pizza.”

“You’re disgusting.” You unconsciously remark. Your eyes widen at your sudden outburst.

The man turns back puzzled, “Excuse me?”

He gazes at your face bursting out in laughter and he can’t help but to join in, realising the reason for you unexpected insult. He stands up from his chair, moving to tower over your sitting figure in attempt to intimidate.

“Does my pizza preferences not please you, Miss L/n?” He jokes, drowning in the sound of your giggles.

When he sits down next to you, you push him with in feigned repulsion. “Of course you would like pineapple on pizza.” You tease. 

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” He fakes his hurt, “Trust me, the pineapple pizza from this place will be the best pizza you’ll ever try.”

“Alright, bet.” You challenge.

After eating (turns out you still didn’t like the combo, as expected), the two of you fell back into a comfortable conversation, discussing anything and everything that came into mind from your favourite type of ice cream to his past lovers. Inwardly, he feels shock when you tell him that you never had dated seriously before. Regardless, he was utterly charmed by you, hanging on every single word that came out of your mouth. He likes the fact that you had similar values as him and he could only gape in awe when you passionately talk about the different political and social views that he was also enthusiastic about. But he additionally adores how you both had different tastes in certain aspects and he valued the fact that he could learn new things about life from you. He smiles to himself. It’s as if you are each other’s counterpart: your personalities blending almost perfectly together. He realises that this was the first ever in-depth conversation between the two of you and he could only hope it wasn’t the last. He wanted more.

You both don’t even notice the time flying by, even when the digital clock strikes midnight. 

“Do you believe love can be formulated?” Namjoon queries, his head resting on the palm of his hand.

“Formulated?” you affirm, he nods his head.

“Like you can force it.” He explains, silently loving the way your face looks when you look curious, “I came across this thing where it was like, 36 questions to fall in love.”

“Oh, I’ve seen that.” you comment, “Do you think it works?”

“I’m not sure. Do you?”

“I feel like it could. The questions are supposed to make you vulnerable to the other person,” You justify, “And isn’t that what love is about? Being vulnerable and trusting to a person?”

His eyes soften at the sight of you and he couldn’t help but to request, “Should we try a question?”

You feel your heart going off again. Trying your hardest to not overthink his question, you attempt to casually say, “Okay.”

Namjoon gets his phone out and searches for the list of questions. After a minute, he decides on asking the very last question, thinking it was the most interesting to discuss.

“Right, remember we have to be 100% honest.” He continues when you nod your head, “ We have to share a personal problem and ask the other’s advice on how they would handle it. We also have to ask each other how you think the other is feeling about the problem.”

“You just had to choose the longest one didn’t you?” You tease lightheartedly, chuckling along with him before going quiet to start thinking of what to say.

“Should I go first?” He asks, the atmosphere turning serious.

“If you want.” You stare at him, giving him your undivided attention.

“Right, so um, you might think it’s really stupid or something.” He insecurely says, regretting his suggestion.

Quickly you dismiss his worries and you hold his unoccupied hand without thinking. When he looks up he meets your eyes.

“We have to be vulnerable, remember?” You kindly encourage.

“Okay.” He pauses, glancing at you before starting.

“Sometimes, I feel like I don’t deserve all of this.” He gestures around him, “All of this recognition, all of the people around me, all of the money. People looking up to me. Being people’s role models. Sometimes it feels as if I’m not right for that role. And I know, it’s so stupid because I worked so damn hard to be where I am now and I’ve went through so much shit, I know that. But I just can’t help but to doubt myself, you know? Last year it was all I could think about. It’s gotten better now but once in a while it crosses my mind. Like, am I actually deserving of all of this love?”

The distress on his face causes your heart to twist. He sits there defenceless, all his walls broken down. He’s so painfully beautiful. Stillness lingers the room. 

Namjoon silently winces at the silence, he looks up at your face, about to dissolve his speech.

“You deserve to be loved.” You wholeheartedly whisper.

You grab his slightly shaky hands and earnestly gaze into his eyes. His heart starts pounding against his rib cage. Suddenly, all he can think about is what it would feel like to feel your love.

“You deserve to be loved.” You repeat, “Everything you have right now, no one else deserves it more than you. I know I can’t fully understand how you feel but I know that your work makes people feel things and for that, you have the right to be loved. As for my advice, I would say to think about any moments, no matter how small, from when you do feel deserving and don’t be shy to ask for some validation once in a while. But I’m just glad you don’t feel this way as much now.”

Before you process it, his arms wrap tightly around your shoulders, “Thank you, y/n.”

“It’s no problem. And, I don’t know if it’ll make you feel better, but when we talk you never fail to make me smile. So if you’re ever doubting yourself, at least you know that you make a positive impact on someone.” you say into his chest, smiling fondly.

Slowly moving away from you, he looks down at your face inches away from his- the glow from his computer screen illuminating your features. You’re absolutely breathtaking. Slightly intimidated by his intense gaze and embarrassed by your confession, you move away swiftly. 

“My turn.” you point out, cheeks slightly flushed from the intimacy, “It’s kinda funny. I feel like it’s the opposite of yours.”

You laugh a bit and the man beside you gives you a questioning look. The raw air in the room encourages you to open up.

“I’m scared that I’ll never be loved.” you meekly say, “I know I’m only in my early 20s but the thought of ending up alone terrifies me. A-and it sucks because I feel like I have so much love to give but no one to give it to. I’ve always been a hopeless romantic so I’ve always dreamt of being in love. I think I’m tired of being alone. I just want someone’s love. So, what’s your advice for that?” You joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Without warning, you feel his hand on the back of your neck, which ushers you forward until your lips touch. Your eyes close at the soft feeling of his full lips that were starting to move feverishly against yours. When you wrap your arms around his neck, he lets out a content hum, letting his arms fall around your waist. He kisses you deeper after you grant his tongue access past your lips and you feel your whole body on fire from the contact.

It was when you felt your lungs begging for oxygen that you broke the kiss with your eyes still shut- trying to savour the moment. Opening your eyes, you look up at the man in front of you. He has a glimmer in his eyes and a smile breaks out onto his face.

“Take mine.” He responds to your question. You feel his breath on your nose, “Take my love.”

A strange feeling builds up in your chest. You imagine going on dates with him outside, the sun glistening on his tan skin. You imagine countless late night conversations like this one. You imagine how much your parents would adore him when he comes to visit. You imagine endlessly kissing him. The feeling bursts throughout your body.

You’re starting to fall in love with him.

Then your mind does the thing it does best: overthink. Alarmed at the sudden panic in your face, Namjoon starts to reach out to you and, for the first time in a while, you run away. 

And all he can do is helplessly watch you leave.

‣ 

a/n hello! it’s been a while. thank you for reading, i rlly hope you’ve enjoyed!

taglist: @alinerl @kim-jias-den @657mg @jinjccns @loonyginger​