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isaiditspossible · 6 months ago

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Joss deserves a bit of verbal ass-whoopin even though some twitteroni's screenshots you shared are either blatantly lying or being misleading on purpose, but what's the point of sharing those infuriating tiktokers takes on Gawin? Why give clout to people who are obviously either very stupid or very malicious? Now Gawin is getting hate for being a professional actor who earned this role by winning audition. What's Gawin supposed to do according to these people? Refuse the main role in MGB and Only Friends and stay jobless forever? Leave GMM? Change Joss' politics? Real talk, have any of you ever tried and succeeded at changing political leaning of your coworker? Well, try that irl and see what happens! Now, I can't help but notice your seemingly neutral, but low-key strange jab at Gawin for him not being vocal about issues online. Are we talking about the same Gawin who is known to be chronically OFFline since... forever? Gawin who disappears from the world for months, sometimes a whole year, and his fans wonder if he's alive? Gawin who only remembers his password when P'Tha puts a gun on his head? Seriously? Why can't one of the most inoffensive guys in GMM just be left alone? And funniest (actually saddest) part, people are now sussing him because he spent a few years in high-school in Pennsylvania?? And because apparently (according to you) he's hanging out with GMM gym bros?? The "bros" I've seen Gawin hang out in gym with: Dunk, Book, Arm, Off, First. Are we even serious here?? Maybe I'm too sensitive, but it's honestly hurtful when someone like Gawin, who's never said or done anything wrong or offensive, gets dragged for no reason whatsoever. Just leave him out of this sh*t and let him be his awkward introverted self in peace. Thanks and goodbye

Hi Key, your post is the second I've seen that hinted at Joss but without further explanation. He generally has a positive public perception and I only know him from 3WBF (which I liked), so I'm curious where this shift in perception is coming from recently.

Would you mind making a post or directing me to where I can learn more about his general...situation.

I apologize if this is intrusive since I know you don't like to engage in Fandom Drama and like to keep your space positive, but I don't have XTwitter and his Tumblr tag is usually quite dead.

Thank you in advance!

Why I Don't Fuck with Joss: An Extremely Academic Essay of Words and Screenshots

Hi Anon!

I normally would have DM'd you an answer to this, but since you sent the ask anonymously and you were very kind in how you asked, I didn't want to ignore you.

However, two things:

I do generally make it a policy to keep my negative personal thoughts about certain actors to private conversations or, y'know, Discord servers, just to keep it off public platforms where toxicity is already rampant. In this case, though, I think the situation is interesting enough to comment on. (Plus, y'know, I'm amazed he was even managing a comeback when he's been known to Be Like This for years.)

I didn't get a lot of primary sources for this post because quite frankly I don't like Joss and I don't want to look at his face any more than I already have. However, friends who've been following this more closely than I have were able to verify that there are sources out there for everything I'm going to mention. Just, y'know, don't use me or this post as a source. This isn't one of my Citations Included Posts, this is just a Why I Don't Fuck with This Guy Post.

So, for context, I made this post last month, and someone made a more explicitly worded reblog here that's honestly better if you're going in without any context.

Essentially, Joss has had a dodgy reputation for years, but I think because fan turnover is high in interfandom and he's never been in a BL series before, most interfans just know Joss as A Tall Man Who Likes Sportsball.

But when I got into Thai BL back in 2020, Joss was one of the first actors I heard of as ~Problematique~ so I looked into him, and what I learned made me go, "Ew," so I just keenly ignored him from then on. (General gross stuff like the Domundi boob-grabbing prank and some assorted Dudebro comments about women. I don't remember specifics anymore because he was barely on my radar, but a friend at the time who'd been in fandom longer basically told me, "Yeah, that's Joss, lol.")

Interestingly, before JossGawin became a thing, most interfans were rooting for JossLuke, but I think given how vocally left-leaning Luke has proven to be, I wouldn't be surprised if Luke saw the prospect of tying his public reputation to Joss and went, "lol no goddamn thank you."

Gawin, on the other hand, seems to be down for whatever GMMTV wants him to do, so he probably just sees Joss as a colleague he makes out with (acting is a weird job). He went to high school in western Pennsylvania, he has white relatives on his dad's side, and he hangs out with the Gym Dudes of GMMTV, so I'm sure he's completely desensitized and is one of those guys who thinks, "Nah," but doesn't go so far as to say, "Not cool, dude." The Gawin Caskey Method seems to be: throw a basketball, make out with a dude on camera, go home and eat an edible. Dismount.

Unfortunately, even though Gawin's never really made any political statements or taken any major stand for the queer community, he's gained goodwill that some people are now calling into question because of Joss.

Anyway, apparently Joss used to follow Andrew Tate on Twitter until Tate was suspended, so it seems a lot of people assumed Joss unfollowed Tate, but yeah, between the sexist comments, Boobgate, and admiring Joe Rogan, that was enough for me to physically recoil from the screen when I saw the teaser for MGB.

Okay NOW, everything from this point onward is new stuff I've learned over the past month that made me go, "Oh. So he's worse now."

Joss has apparently had that Joe Rogan quote pinned to his Twitter account since 2020, but people just shrugged it off because they like his man stomach or something? (I don't find him attractive, but even if I did, I truly don't understand how he made it this far. It feels like he's been pretty firmly canceled every year since I got here, honestly.)

I also didn't like him weight-shaming Gawin. There's some older clip of him calling Gawin fat, and I know in Asia it's more common to comment on other people's bodies and weight, but I also recently found out that he got Gawin a meat cake for his birthday because idk actual cake is for pussies? (Sorry, Anon, I was trying to aim for an objective tone but I abandoned it because I reeeally don't like this man.) And apparently a lot of JG fanservice is just Joss and Gawin at the gym so Joss can teach Gawin self-control or something? I've had their tag blocked from the beginning, so you'll have to look into that if you're curious.

Ah, and at some point in the last few months, Joss was apparently asked what his "type" is and he said something like "white, skinny English-speaking Europeans/Americans"(?) Which apparently made Asian women go, "Hey, c'mere real quick: good. Bye."

I also thought it was a huge red flag that Joss has been in the industry for years, and his domestic fanbase is still quite small. Others have pointed out that very few fan interactions with him are in Thai, and he's clearly courting a western audience both in his individual engagement and by partnering with a mixed American actor. When he did the LGBTQ+ panel last summer, apparently the reaction from Thai commenters was, "lmao why Joss?" not, "Oh yes, of course, Joss!"

So it seems like GMMTV has been trying to do a rebrand for Joss using Gawin and interfans more generally since Joss speaks English and interfans don't generally seek out the resources to do research. Remember last year when GMMTV announced that Y-MIND script competition? It was originally domestic only, but after Thai fans overwhelmingly went, "The contract terms here are wildly exploitative, so fuck off," GMMTV rereleased the promotional material in English and went, "HEY INTERFANS WANNA SEND US STUFF :D?"

That told me they really don't think especially highly of us.

On December 15th, someone pointed out that Joss didn't just follow Trump on Twitter, he also followed a ton of extreme alt-right accounts on Instagram. Not normal political figures, either. Obscure figures like Pearl, Candace Owens, that guy who was saying Your Body My Choice, and Andrew Tate's right-hand man, and more! Some of his fans tried to point out that he follows progressive Thai politicians, but as far as the American side, he only followed alt-right conservative accounts with zero liberal accounts.

Though, in fairness, someone did point out that Joss also follows famous progressive Democratic figures [checks notes] comedian Chris Rock and basketball player Stephen Curry.

So. Whoohoo for that, amirite?

Since Joss's fans weren't having much success defending him on their own, they threw some @'s at his account to get him to make some kind of statement that would somehow explain away why he was following a deep, deep alt-right fanatic like Pearl. (Spoiler: He didn't.)

The JossGawin International fan club even released the above statement to address the issue, then received such alarmingly vitriolic backlash from the JossGawin fandom for "betraying" Joss that the fanclub decided to deactivate entirely. (I have no idea if they reactivated or not, since I stopped keeping up with this whole debacle shortly afterward.)

One Thai(?) JossGawin fan actually seems to have used ChatGPT to create an English comment to chastise the fanclub for their lack of support in Joss's dire times:

Amusingly, rather than address his fans' concerns or unfollow any of the accounts causing the chaos, Joss instead just started deleting any comment on his Instagram that called on him to comment.

Five days later, he unfollowed 137 accounts. No idea how many of those were alt-right extremists and how many were just extra padding to make it look like a general cleanse, but it was at least fifty last I heard, and the fact that 1) it took him nearly a week to do anything but delete the comments calling him out, and 2) his first tweet after this whole mess was a quote-retweet of GMMTV's message welcoming Barcode into the company saying, "lol this kid looks like if me and Gawin had a baby" just goes to show how unthreatened he feels.

After all, Joss has been this way for years, and his upcoming series with Gawin is probably going to do numbers regardless. He's successfully rebuilt his stagnant career off the support of interfans, and he knows he'll be fine.

Even Foei has a show with Tay! We're all good here. \:D/

So yeah! That's why I don't fuck with Joss. \:D/

This'll be the last I say on Joss publicly.

I just figured I'd make one all-encompassing post so I can link back to this in case anyone asks why I'm not supporting any of Gawin's projects with Joss. It's a shame because I do really like Gawin, but this isn't even a hard choice for me to make.

Oh, and while we're on the subject: the director of MGB, Ark, is also Not a Good Dude by all accounts I've heard from multiple people who've interacted with him privately. I mean, he sure is queer, but he's also said to be a misogynist with some white-people-worshipping tendencies. He doesn't have the highest opinion of BL fandom in general, either, especially when you look back on his whole direction of IT'S NOT A BL Shadow. Just, y'know, another reminder that queer people aren't Virtuous or Evil by nature. We're a big ole clusterfuck of nuance, so you don't have to support MGB for Ark just because he's a queer man. I have zero proof that I can share publicly, so you don't have to take my word for it. Just, y'know, in case you were on the fence, I've heard he's a dick.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go write absolutely filthy gay porn to purify myself from writing Joss's name so many times.

#gawin caskey #joss wayar #venting #fluke gawin #rant #i love gawin for being chronically OFFLINE

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bisluthq · 1 year ago

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I don't know why anons are trying to dent that she didn't do those specific mashups for a reason. Like a literal line in the song is about some sleaze trying to tell her about how much her words are worth. Like that's a direct jab at joe who tried to imply ish in his daily mail article. We genuinely thought he was trying to exclude himself from the narrative but now it looks like he wants to get down in the mood. We'll, just so he knows, alwyn you will not win against a war of attrition against the taylor swift. He's jobless, got no career and couldn't get a starring role on his own break up album. A lot of swifties will finish him. Peace.

Enjoy “finishing” him lmfao. Then please check for black mold and get therapy. I’m not worried about Joe, because 1) idc that much idk him or her so like w/e 2) you actually won't because no one has ever "finished" someone online lol and your insanity is just making people who aren't totally batshit actually kinda like him. But I am quite genuinely worried about you guys lmfao because you people are NOT doing okay.

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arpov-blog-blog · 2 years ago

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....“America’s now in one of the strongest job-creating periods in our history, in the history of our country,” Biden said from the White House Rose Garden.

“It wasn’t that long ago that America was losing jobs,” Biden continued. “In fact, my predecessor was one of only two presidents in history who entered his presidency and left with fewer jobs than when he entered.”

As Trump was leaving office in January 2021, the U.S. had roughly 10 million fewer jobs than before the COVID-19 pandemic. He also left before vaccines to combat the virus had become widespread.

Trump, who has long boasted about the booming stock market during his tenure as evidence of a strong economy, has attacked Biden on the issue and touted his push to shore up manufacturing jobs in the U.S. in a video released this week.

Friday’s jobs report showed the U.S. added 187,000 jobs in August, while the unemployment rate rose to 3.8 percent. Economists had expected the U.S. to gain 170,000 jobs and maintain the July jobless rate of 3.5 percent. “We created more jobs in two years than any president ever created in a four-year, single four-year term,” Biden added, noting the U.S. had a 6.3 percent unemployment rate when he took office at the end of Trump’s term."

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perpetual-canon · 2 years ago

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Perpetual Canon Chapter 1. Light in The End of The Rabbit Hole

before / 2. “we go way back” II - 2/2 / next where it started / navigation / about the story

Russ turned to Noodle.

“So that's your friend?”

“Yeah,” she said. “‘Ts ma bestie. Great guy.”

Russ raised his eyebrows.

“We go way back,” she added defensively.

Ace blinked. Alrighty then.

(ABOUT) THREE WEEKS AGO

To be honest, no person in their right mind would go to the club to listen to a solo bass performance.

Ace tried to master acoustic guitar back when he was a kid, but apart from bringing some skills and some change on the streets, it made him bored outta his mind. Besides, Ace couldn’t even mask his mediocre skills with singing. He was no Ed Sheeran, that much he knew.

But bass was another story. Ace was leaning mainly on intuition while learning to play, and all jokes about bass players aside, it proved to be possible to reach a somewhat decent level just by lots and lots of improvising, and some solid pointers from Grubber.

So one thing led to another, and Ace landed this part-time gig downtown. He was hired by a fairly successful local cover band for a set of services, which included:

1. Playing before said band in bars, to make up for them being constantly late due to various “mystical coincidences”. (Ace suspected the lead guitarist's drug addiction. It was quite mystical how she fell from the stage a couple times already in the past week Ace has been working with them.)

2. Watching over the band and being their designated driver in case something goes wrong. (Things did go wrong for them pretty often.)

Unfortunately, considering the quality of bars the band was performing in, unless you were Jaco Pastorius, there was always a slight risk of being shot on stage. So Ace’s act usually was brief and involved a lot of guitar-slapping.

Apart from that, it was nothing special – worse than it could’ve been, but better than the jobless void Ace was stewing in for a whole year. To be honest, it was hard. When he and the boys were living in a leaking bus on a literal dump, Ace was a proper leader, capable and (allegedly) even fearless. Now, when they finally were able to afford renting a flat, everybody proved to be more capable than him. Everyone managed to find decent jobs, and they even started a fund for Lil Arturo’s college. Sure, for now it was just a jar in a closet. But a big, promising jar. Full of wonders yet to come, as Big Billy used to say.

And then there was Ace. 20-something, good for nothing. He has been doing odd jobs, but couldn’t settle anywhere for long. Maybe he looked too much like a street rat to catch the eye of proper employers. And, in all honesty, he was one, no avoiding it. Wasn’t looking good in a resume tho.

So no, Ace was not complaining about the gig. He was just observing, making notes. Wasn’t his fault notes came out to be sorta greasy.

After Ace finished his routine, he sat down at the bar.

He watched the band perform, and let the familiar numbness blur the uncomfortable pangs in his chest. As a cover band, they accepted requests. Sometimes they were hilariously bad. Right now someone ordered Nickelback and it was a jab at the vocalist’s pride, so instead of singing properly, he was hissing like bacon on fire.

Ace swirled on a bar stool and heaved a deep sigh in hopes that the bartender would take pity on him. The bartender wasn’t impressed, but rewarded him with a glass of water.

The night was still young and people just started to gather, so the bar was not very busy.

Ace was wearing his dark shades again, and so could stare at people busying around without drawing attention. Some might say that only douchebags wear shades in the building, but Ace was ready to accept any label as long as it came handy.

Aside from a couple of obvious regulars, there was also a tiny woman in a sickeningly bright hoodie. She looked quite out of place, like a teen who wandered in to take home her drunken father.

She sipped whiskey on rocks.

Maybe she was the drunken father.

Even with the hood covering her bangs, Ace couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something familiar about her. He vaguely hoped that it wasn’t because she was Asian and he had sight problems. He didn’t want to be That Guy.

In the meantime the band had finally finished torturing people with their take on Nickelback and got to another request.

“Somebody is feeling nostalgic!” the vocalist yelled in the mike. “Here is “Feel Good Inc”! Without the rap part tho, sorry”.

Ace felt a tingle of warmth rise up from under the dull blanket of boredom. To be honest, that was him who left this request. He figured that if he is going to sit here at the bar with only water in his system, he might as well try to enjoy it. And he knew for sure that this was the only Gorillaz song the band was capable of playing.

Humming under his breath, Ace glanced at the girl again.

She looked sorta tense now. She finished her whiskey in one gulp and called the bartender.

From the corner of the eye Ace saw her showing something to him. It looked like some piece of paper. Whatever it was, the bartender shook his head with a blank expression.

The girl was visibly disappointed by that and slided down from the stool, clearly about to leave. But then she looked up – straight at Ace.

He quickly darted his eyes back to the stage, burning with sudden embarrassment. The girl’s look was pretty intense.

By the time the vocalist reached the second windmill, she was already gone.

Only way later, when Ace was driving drunken band members home at night, it suddenly hit him. The reason why she seemed so familiar.

But it couldn’t be true. His vision must’ve been playing tricks on him.

It couldn't have been muthafuckin’ Noodle from muthafuckin’ Gorillaz.

The club was way more sleazy than the one they played at before. Ace half-expected that someone would throw a bottle at his head at some point during the performance. The band climbing on the stage was still hungover and slightly high, so for them the possibility was still on the table. Ace was already bracing himself for driving them all to the hospital instead of their houses.

Unfortunately it meant that, once again, he couldn’t get even a fucking Margarita.

Ace quickly slided between people and furniture, trying to find the least grease stained place for himself and his bass. He was pretty sure at least three couples were already fucking in darker corners of the bar.

That’s when he saw her again.

Same hoodie, same complexion. It was the girl.

She was diving through the crowd like a little koi fish, with a joint in her fingers and a hood on her head. Heart-shaped glasses sparkled dully under the dim lights.

Now Ace could say that he was quite intrigued.

Hypothetically, yes, it could’ve been Noodle. He was aware that The Band was staying in Detroit. But what could’ve prompted her to visit such smelly places? Aren’t stars supposed to club at the tops of skyscrapers with Snoop Dogg and Martha Stewart making brownies, of something?

How dangerous exactly was it to get mixed in this?

So far things have been pretty intense. The guitarist ended up in ER two times in the last week, and the drummer caught some STD that didn’t allow him to sit properly.

But all this meant nothing to Ace. His thoughts were completely occupied by the hoodie girl.

For the last five clubs and bars they’ve been playing in, she was always there. She usually arrived well after the band started to play and there was a decent crowd in the venue already. She was always covered up in some way, took something to drink and chatted with the bartender. Then she disappeared.

By this point Ace was pretty sure that she was, in fact, the Noodle from Gorillaz herself. He’s made a point to google paparazzi photos just to compare how she would have looked without makeup and photoshop, and it was a match.

This time Ace was expecting her. The curiosity was bothering him like fleas (And he knew the feeling, the metaphor was quite literal here).

Would he get a chance to talk to her, to learn about why she keeps visiting all these places? Would it be better to ask her directly? Wasn’t she a direct person? What were the odds she’d hit him directly in the face?

As always, Ace sat down at the bar. Watching the drummer suffer on stage was quite entertaining, but he couldn’t stop looking around, waiting for a glimpse of the pink hoodie.

“Hey,” the bartender snapped his fingers, to get Ace’s attention. “You can’t sit here”.

Ace stared at him blankly, trying to remember if he did something to piss the guy off in the past. He appeared quite generic.

“Unless you buy a drink, you can’t take up the space. I don’t make the rules”.

Ace looked at the plaque behind the bartender. It said “My Bar – My Rules”. Right.

“Sorry chef. Ain’t got no money tonight. But you see, I need to watch those fuckas on stage. I’m, how do you put it… their nanny”.

“I don’t care, mate. Unless ya skinny ass ‘bout to order somethin’, Imma callin’ the security. We’ve got a hit up ‘bout ya folk, that stuff disappears here and there after ya’all performance. And from what I’m lookin’ at, you better leave the premises and wait for your friends outside”.

Ace clicked his tongue.

Fuckin’ band had a chance or even a plan to throw him under the bus for whatever junk they’ve smuggled from those shitholes? Not cool.

“That’s a shitty team to be on, that’s for sure,” chimed the voice from behind Ace.

He turned around.

The one and only Noodle from Gorillaz plopped on a stool beside him.

“I’m buying, man,” she said to the bartender. “Long Island for my friend here. And make it longer.”

She saluted Ace with her drink.

Bartender shot them a weary glance, but obliged.

Ace stared at Noodle, desperately trying to find some words to say that would not sound completely and utterly dumb.

“So,” he said.

“So,” she repeated. “Wassup?”

“Drummer got an STD and can’t sit properly,” blurted Ace. His cheeks burned. By the end of the sentence he was already accepting his imminent death.

Noodle raised an eyebrow and shot a quick glance on stage.

“Shit,” she chuckled. “I thought he was just energetic.”

“Gettin’ a solo in the middle of the chorus? Yeah, you can say so.”

Noodle snorted in her drink, splattering whiskey all over Ace’s shirt.

Great.

PRESENT TIME

“Music,” stated Noodle with a strainingly wide smile. “That’s how we know each other! Ha-hah”.

Russel was observing her quietly, with some sort of underlying intensity. Sure, it seemed that he was doing everything intensely, but Ace still panicked – just in case.

“Look, he’s got a guitar! So yeah. We jam sometimes. Don’t we?” She slapped Ace’s shoulder, probably dislocating it forever.

“We sure jam,” croaked Ace through the pain. “We jam very much”.

before / next where it started / navigation / about the story

#gorillaz #noodle gorillaz #ace copular #murdoc niccals #stuart pot #russel hobbs #power puff girls #ppg #PC!story

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lightshcwer · 4 months ago

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clover's hand shot up to cover her mouth as laughter bubbled out of her. she'd hoped to keep up the act a little longer, but this was too good. ivy was adorable, and she wasn't sure ivy even realized just how much. "i'm not gonna cuff him immediately. this is a date, vee. it's like... a trial. why not do it?" she shrugged. still, as she spoke, she couldn't help but wonder how much her friend would let slide before actually giving her a piece of her mind. sure, she'd thrown a few jabs here and there, but clover was greedy. she always wanted more. "jobless is a compliment in your case, babe. so yes, you do," she teased. "besides, who said anything about not being paid? i'll cover your meal," she bargained, lifting her glass for a small sip.

setting it down with a soft sigh, her gaze flickered back to ivy. "i don't know. what if dad cuts me off at some point? i have to think ahead. and i'm not cut out for stealing. so maybe being a trophy wife is my best bet." the words were barely out of her mouth before she had to fight back a grin. she didn't believe a single thing she was saying, but she was having too much fun to stop now. at the mention of her date being a bad kisser, clover spluttered. "have you met frederick before or something? you seem to have a lot of opinions, vee," she mused, voice laced with barely contained laughter.

"never thought dating ugly men would ever be one of your desires." ivy deadpans, sighing as if she is genuinely disappointed in her best friend. not every assumption made about ivy is correct, but one of them is — she is superficial, but isn't it human nature to be drawn to pretty people and pretty things? "you're asking me to play bodyguard from afar and it's not even paid? do i look that jobless to you?" though the idea of crashing clover's date — only for the sake of it, not because of her cursed feelings whatsoever — is admittedly fun, ivy would rather not see clover attend the date at all. then again, clover is a grown woman and doesn’t need ivy’s permission to do whatever her heart desires. "you have enough money to live a hundred lifetimes and splurge in every one of them — you don't need a rich man." she points out, her tone matter-of-fact. with the wealth of their respective families, they could have their own army of sugar babies if they'd wanted. she bites the inside of her cheek in defeat, stabbing harder with the plastic stirrer at the lemon slices of her drink before downing it altogether. "yeah, yeah. whatever." she mutters, her annoyance seeping through the cracks of her usually composed demeanor. "i heard he's not even a good kisser." among other things. it is a small world and ivy is well-connected, which means that she hears all kinds of gossip, and she's not above using that knowledge to her advantage.

#˳೫˚∗ ivy kim #=͟͟͞⚝ 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗦 : CLOVER.#drag her ivy #shake some sense into her!!! >:)#⁎ ˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ : I'LL WAIT FOR QUEUE THERE.

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theconstitutionisgayculture · 4 years ago

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Singapore Anon again. It's been a while, and things have only gotten worse. From 15 Jan 2022, unjabbed employees will not be allowed to return to work even with negative tests, essentially rendering them jobless. The government is also "encouraging" citizens to get the boosters, and aims for 50% of the population to be boosted by end-Jan. Kids are also beginning to be jabbed. I know this sounds overdramatic, but please share this with everyone. I don't know what else I can do.

I'm sorry things are getting worse for you guys. I wish you had some way to get out of there. It's so important for us to not comply or get complacent and accept passports and mandates.

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helly-watermelonsmellinfellon · 8 months ago

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I'm finally back at the house.

The biggest issue that I didn't have time to get into in prior reblogs, was the fact that Bethy came to my room to tell me that Dave's dumbass friend, accused me of stealing the coffee that they drink every morning. And he told Bethy that if I don't give it back, he's coming to me room to get it himself.

This guy and I got into an argument a few weeks back because I was asking my mom about absentee ballots and he interrupted our conversation to stand over us making snide remarks about democrats and liberals and even followed me outside, making these comments as I had to wait for a Walmart order and the delivery guy was a black man, who had to hear a lot of M@G@ bullshit, as well the jabs about how I wasn't responding. So, I simply stated, "I don't break bread with Nazis," and got a snort from the delivery dude and a rant about how 'it's just politics' from the idiot.

Ever since then, for a guy who was supposedly unfazed by my words, he's been trying to claim I'm stealing his stuff at every opportunity.

He is homeless. Jobless. And a drunkard. He uses his disability payments on beer. He buys 2 24-pack cases every few days because he goes through them so fast. Everything my Ko-Fi and Patreon makes, goes to mom. She gets about $300 from me a month, which is basically me paying rent for this bedroom and the right to use the bathroom. That money often gets us food and toilet paper when we're out by the middle of the month.

He does not help with anything.

So, mom messaged me the other week to tell me he told Dave I ate his Pop-Tarts. They were about 5 weeks old and were on top of the fridge the entire time. I took one packet for myself, and mom saw there were Pop-Tarts and asked for some. I gave her the other box up there as it went untouched and unopened. Mind you, SHE bought them. He then started claiming I was drinking his soda.

Mom buys all the drinks. She drinks the ZERO versions of stuff these days whenever she gets it but gets a regular version 'for the house' as she calls it. That also sat there for 5 weeks because no one apparently liked strawberry Dr. Pepper(I think that's what it is). I asked to try one and she said sure(it was gross btw). He saw me take one. He whined to Dave about me taking his drinks.

The drinks that are for him specifically are Pepsi. Of all the things to accuse me of stealing, Pepsi would make more sense as it's close enough to Coke, but mom gets me Fauxke from Walmart now and then so I wouldn't even need it.

What I know is that while he was in prison for a month for assaulting a state trooper, Bethy got ahold of his card and used some of his money for groceries. On one hand, theft, on the other hand, if she didn't, he would have been several hundred dollars over the $2,000 max disabled people are allowed to have in the US. So, he would have lost his disability benefits entirely if she didn't use his money to get us food.

He first claimed not to care because he was glad not to have lost disability. Then a day later told Dave he was pissed and wanted all the money back immediately. Then said it didn't matter, and he didn't actually care all that much. Then barged into Bethy's room to scream at her over stealing his money. Then tried to claim a bunch of unrelated purchases were also her fault(they weren't) and tried to corner her into admitting it(she didn't). He's been very nasty to her ever since then.

It's been one dramatic thing after the other these past few weeks, so before Bethy and I left to visit mom, she came to tell me he was accusing me of stealing the coffee. Because I was supposedly eyeing it up. And in her words, she told him that, 'Helen doesn't drink coffee, and how would she make it without a coffee maker?'. And he claimed I could use my mini rice cooker to do it, so then she asked why he hasn't seen me using/washing cups of any sort when I regularly bring my cooker down to clean it. And why hasn't he smelled the coffee being made if I took it for myself? They can smell when I make ramen/pasta/rice, but not coffee?

He threatened to come into my room and get it if I don't hand it over.

So, in front of her, I hid a bunch of stuff in different places, cleaned up a bit, and left the broom in front of my door inside the room. It would blockade the door with the brush against the right wall and the handle leaning on the armoire to the left of my door. It was tricky to accomplish with the door mostly closed and would be hard to replicate.

When we got back, the broom had been moved. And the cushion on the sofa was shifted.

Neither mom nor I trust him, so I hid both of our laptops in the back of messy drawer in my armoire before going to the hospital. I brought both tablets with me. I hid my chargers and PS4 controller.

Bethy went back to the hospital, and they've given her permission to stay with mom for the night.

Finally, while at the hospital, Bethy confessed that dimwit has also accused me of abusing his dog. He told Bethy I kicked his dog super hard and that I need to keep my hands to myself, and Bethy apparently asked him why he'd care about the dog anyway since he was punching him in the face the day before yesterday and loudly screamed that he wasn't going to feed him all day as punishment(which he did in fact do, so Bethy fed him on the sly and got yelled at for it). That shut him up real quick. She also asked when this abuse supposedly happened because I never come downstairs unless it's to use the bathroom, and that dog doesn't come near me ever because he's either laying between mom's legs or lying beside his owner at any given moment.

So, the panic from mom being hospitalized, getting stuck there for hours without a ride, and knowing this asshole was left free roam of the house for hours before Dave got back from work, had me stressed tf out.

Bethy thinks he might have gone into her room, though she wasn't too sure. He's been making all kinds of accusations as of late, so this is where we're at.

I hate having to rely on ppl for things cuz Bethy left to get something and I've been stranded at the hospital for 2 hours and visiting hours are now over.

#my anxiety is through the roof

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joonsdiary · 5 years ago

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the proposal

↳ part one of the: (not) the love of my life series

pairing. ceo!seokjin x hotelier!reader (female) genre. arranged marriage au // humour with a dash of fluff and sprinkle of angst (mayhaps future smut?) word count. 4,8k summary. after losing ownership of your hotel to the satan-spawned ceo-to-be, kim seokjin, you are forced by the powers that be (your parents) into marrying him. you agree under the assurance that you won’t be out of job, but with the title of manager instead of owner. as it turns out, he has other plans and approaches you with a proposal that’s hard to refuse.

note. a cliché, overused trope? check. a series with (maybe) no plot and is just about jin as a billionaire ceo? check. this was initially supposed to be a sequel, but i couldn’t follow it up with the same ambience and mood, so i decided to leave the drabble [as a standalone] and write a spin-off instead. this has been in my drafts for the longest time, so i’m excited to share to you a series that literally nobody asked for.

warning-but-not-really. not all corporate ceos are as chilled out as jin will be portrayed here. may give you high expectations of literally some of the worst people on this planet lmao also purely self-indulgent! read at your own risk tbh

the proposal | the first date | the ceo’s keeper | the engagement

The premise was simple.

Get married so you can keep running your hotel business or refuse and lose everything to the man your parents have personally hand-picked to become the owner.

Scratch that.

The man your parents sold your hotel to, thus making him the newly appointed owner.

Choosing the latter and having your freedom would mean giving up your hard-earned company to the lousy billionaire’s first-born son, who happened to own half the hotels in metropolitan Seoul.

The Kims.

Notorious for their enormous amount of wealth, their class, and having three strapping young men for sons who knew nothing else, but privilege handed to them in a silver platter.

Despite growing up in a well-off family, you’ve always taught yourself that independence and hard work was the key to success. You distanced yourself as much as you could from your parents’ money, stuck it out for four years in college, and graduated with a degree. Running the hotel full time while attempting to finish your master’s in business administration part-time had been the theme for the past year. Until your parents dropped the bomb on you.

Words like, do you really think you had full ownership of that run-down hotel of yours and we had to sell, or we’ll go under had been thrown around. As if keeping the secret of having a huge amount of debt would make you feel better about seeing your hotel assimilated into Kim Hotels. Not only would you lose ownership, but you knew that you were bound to get fired, if not demoted. It usually came with the change of proprietor.

Conveniently enough, the Kims had other plans. Their current CEO, Seokjin’s father, agreed to let you keep working as the hotel manager instead of the owner, which is honestly miles better to you than being jobless. But it came with a hefty price: you were to marry their oldest son, Kim Seokjin. They drove a hard bargain, and you found yourself agreeing. You loved the hotel more than anything you’ve ever owned; having to pour your heart and soul into making it worth being proud of. And you were. That’s why hearing your parents say that it was in debt felt gut wrenching.

Initially, you tried to get a hold of him, hoping you could convince him to re-think the situation. You thought perhaps the media had been wrong about him, and all the talks of him being a calculating corporate shark was a lie. Maybe he would let you work as the manager without having to marry him. But the COO of Kim Hotels refused to meet with you, despite hearing from your parents that he’d been “more than willing” to be married to you.

You scoffed at their baseless statement. Seokjin had a reputation for taking women to bed one night before leaving them to dust by the next morning. As if selling his soul to the devil in order to be worth billions of dollars wasn’t enough; of course, he was sleeping around as well. You weren’t one to judge anybody’s lifestyle choices, but you were sure that someone in that calibre wouldn’t agree to be wed to a person they hardly knew just because. There was something in your gut that told you there was more to the agreement than a simple arranged marriage.

Or maybe the feeling in your gut was due to the bad pasta you had.

“Good evening, Ms. Hwang.”

You’re greeted by Mr. Park, the doorman as soon as you enter the lobby, cradling a piping hot tea you hoped would alleviate the stomach cramps you were having. His smile gave away his old age, wrinkles dotting the corner of his eyes and the lines in his cheeks. You returned the gesture.

“How was your dinner?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you laughed softly, shrugging away your coat without spilling your drink. “I’m never eating out ever again. Please tell me Yoongi is in.”

He nodded, gesturing to the entrance not too far from the lobby. You bid him good night and head to the restaurant in the hotel, which was sparse with customers. Friday nights were usually teeming with life and excitement, but unfortunately business had been relatively slow all week. The worry pooled deep in your stomach – as if you needed any more ratification that your hotel needed to be bought, or you’ll close down.

“Yoongi! I need your cure-all soup,” you called out as soon as you sat on the barstool, propping your tote on the table. Jungkook waved at you from the far end of the bar, concocting a drink for the eager gentleman waiting in front of him. Yoongi popped his head out from the kitchen’s double doors to scowl at you but was met with your beaming smile.

He returned several minutes later with your request and you quietly thank him.

“Bad date?” he asked, wiping his palms over his well-worn apron. Jungkook had inched closer by this time, mindlessly wiping the area beside you.

You nodded. “And terrible food. I should’ve just asked him to take me here to Grigio instead.”

Yoongi raised his brows, but a grin was threatening to burst from his lips. “Why didn’t you?”

“He insisted on going to that posh new restaurant that just opened last week. Said it took months to book and he couldn’t just cancel on a whim,” you rolled your eyes, carefully blowing cold air into your steaming soup.

“This is why I told you to stop looking around,” Yoongi leaned into the counter, studying your expression.

“It’s cuffing season,” you joked. “Blame social norms for my behaviour.”

He gave you an impassive stare, before sighing. “You’re literally cuffed already.” He said, followed by a quiet, “I still can’t believe you’re getting married soon.”

You waved your right hand nonchalantly before lifting the spoon to your lips. You moaned as soon as the flavour filled your senses.

“Did you know you’re the best chef ever?”

“It’s just chicken noodle soup,” he said drily.

“Exactly! The simplest meal yet you manage to bring out so many spices at once.” He rolled his eyes at your attempt to boost his ego. Either way it was true; for you, nothing beat Yoongi’s cooking, no matter how simple he thought the meal was.

You forgo the tea and asked Jungkook for a bottle of white wine. “Nothing fancy — Les Capriades is fine. I heard they came in last month, and I have yet to try them.”

He nodded at your instructions before disappearing off to the back to find your drink.

“Stop avoiding the topic, Y/N,” Yoongi rested his chin in the palm of his hand.

“I’m not avoiding anything,” you stated confidently, yet you couldn’t meet his gaze. “The devil incarnate himself refuses to see me. I guess I’ll have to meet him at the altar.”

“Three weeks from now,” Yoongi said, almost exasperated.

“Until then, I’ll enjoy my freedom.”

“What freedom?” Yoongi scoffed, rounding the table to slide into the seat next to you. Jungkook returned with your promised bottle and your eyes beamed with excitement before quietly thanking him. “You didn’t even date around before any of this marriage circus happened.”

You agreed with the “circus” part and ignored the indirect jab. Besides not having a say in any of the planning for your wedding, your supposed fiancé refused to introduce himself when you tried to reach out multiple times.

Okay, perhaps it wasn’t multiple times. You called his office when your parents broke the news to you a week ago, but his assistant said he was busy with a meeting and that you should call back. You didn’t, and that was the end of it. You’ve been putting off trying again, but it’s been a week and he hasn’t contacted you back either.

Maybe it was mutual disdain; if one of you was testing the other to break, you didn’t want the first to be you. It already felt undignified to be marrying someone for the sake of keeping a semblance of ownership to your hotel, so you weren’t about to grovel and demand to be spoken to when it seemed like he wasn’t willing to spare you a second of his time.

Yoongi chatted for a bit before he had to go back to work, so you were left to pull out your laptop from your tote. For the next few hours you immersed yourself into finances, staring at the excel spreadsheet displayed on the screen far longer than was medically allowed. Surely, you’ll go blind before you see your hotel overcome the negative deficit you were in.

“See you tomorrow, Ms. Hwang,” Jungkook thrummed his fingers on the table as he passed by. You looked up in time to see him mime something unintelligible. Your brows raised in confusion.

“Your glasses,” he laughed quietly, fingers hovering close to your cheek. You mumbled a quiet oh, before pushing the rim higher until it settled snugly against your nose bridge.

“Thanks.” You sighed, tipping your head to one side. After feeling the satisfying pop! you turned back to Jungkook with a grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You slumped back to your work as soon as Jungkook was out of sight. Glancing at the clock on the corner of your laptop, it blinked 00:37, which automatically caused you to yawn. Yoongi should be out soon, so you willed yourself to stand up and prop the close sign by the entrance.

From where you stood, you could see the lobby clearly, as well as the spinning doors of the hotel entrance. A few patrons trickled in, no doubt coming in from their busy day, and filed sluggishly to the elevators where it would take them up their floors.

That was the most fulfilling part of being a hotelier to you. The satisfaction of giving people a comfortable stay, whether they were mere tourists or locals wanting a getaway from their normal life. It certainly isn’t as posh and sleek as the Kim Hotel with their towering glass buildings and boring black, white, and grey colour palettes. But what you had was something you were proud to consider your home, with the vibrant earth tones of the walls and furniture, as well as the rich velvet tapestry draped along the ornate windows. High ceiling chandeliers peppered the lobby, casting an ambience of warmth and security without lacking luxury.

“‘Night, Y/N.” Yoongi clasped your shoulder, startling you out of your mini daydream. “Stop using my restaurant as your office, will you?”

You mustered a small grin. “Bye, Yoongles. Drive safe.”

Yoongi turned to you as his face contorted violently. “I hate that nickname.”

“Love you too!” You called out as he exited through the revolving door before placing your hand down with a sigh. Back to work. You were about to turn and go back to your forgotten laptop when the door welcomed in another guest.

With bated breath you watched the man stalk towards you, eyeing you dangerously as if you were his prey. His midnight black suit made him look slim but highlighted his broad shoulders all the same. You were arrested at the spot, unable to look away and felt as if you’ve been robbed of oxygen. The more he stepped closer, the more unclear your thoughts became.

It’s not as if you hadn’t seen the man. He often appeared on several business magazines — gossip tabloids more so. Yet there was something different about seeing him in person, in front of you, in your hotel.

No. His hotel.

“Ms. Hwang. I was hoping to find you here.”

You blinked up at him, not trusting your voice to form words under such immense pressure. His usually slicked back ebony hair is more mussed; a day’s worth of stress was evident in his restless feature.

When you didn’t reply, he took it upon himself to study you from head to toe, and your body went rigid. Your long, honey-coloured hair had been tied up in a lazy bun and glasses framed your face. You didn’t bother changing out of your mini black dress from your date earlier, whose thin straps clung onto your shoulders for dear life.

You squirmed uncomfortably, finding a small ounce of strength to wrap your hands protectively around yourself. “What are you doing here, Mr. Kim?”

“Please,” he rolled his eyes, supple lips bending upwards for a grin. “Call me Seokjin. Mr. Kim is my father.”

And with that, he welcomed himself in the threshold of your restaurant.

Technically, it’s his restaurant now, too.

You let your anger simmer for a bit before turning to follow him.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you declared. It was hard to keep your annoyance down when he had showed up unannounced after ignoring your existence for a whole week.

He slid next to the seat you had claimed yours, and you almost tripped in your heels as you followed, immediately snapping your laptop shut. There was no new information he could have garnered from looking at the finances of the hotel, as he’s probably aware of them. But the thought of him snooping around made you feel queasy.

“I wanted to see what had my father so enamoured that he’d actually buy this…” he trailed off, waving his hand dismissively, “…hotel?”

You hated the underlying judgement in his tone of voice. You had also heard rumours that he’s unabashedly forward and hard to deal with, on top of all the other rumours that plagued him. So far, all the boxes in the checklist were proving to be true.

“It’s quaint. Not at all what I expected.” His gaze studied you momentarily, and you can tell he wanted to say more but he smartly held himself back. Good. You don’t know what you would do if he strung one criticism after another.

“Well, you’ve seen it. You can kindly screw off now.”

Seokjin seemed taken aback for a second, but his surprise didn’t linger. He leaned back on the stool and swiveled forward before pointing at the shelves lined with alcohol.

“I’ll have a whiskey, neat.”

In an attempt to ignore his ridiculous demand, you powered up your laptop once more. No way in hell would you let him step all over you, not even when he owned the hotel where you now stood. “You have very capable legs and arms. I’m sure you can whip one up yourself.”

Was this man joking? Granted, you know your way behind the bar since you had the privilege to work as a bartender for a few years during your college tenure. But that doesn’t mean he’s welcomed here to treat you as if you were a subservient of his. Which, semantics aside, you were, though that’s beside the point. But if he made an effort to come down here and order you around like a scullery maid in an attempt to intimidate you or put you in your place, then he was barking up the wrong tree.

“I was told you have terrific hospitality. I guess they were mistaken.”

Not for the likes of you, I don’t. You rolled your eyes, not bothering with an actual reply.

Seokjin maneuvered off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his cufflinks before he rolled his sleeves up meticulously. He then rounded the bar and began grabbing materials with familiarity, not stopping to ask where anything was located. You watched in awe from the corner of your eyes, attempting to be discreet.

“Want one?” he gave you a slanted gaze.

You wrinkled your nose in disagreement and raised your wine glass.

“A refill, then?”

Pressing your lips firmly together, you gave him a defiant headshake.

The mild shock of seeing him traipsing behind the bar had rendered you absolutely mute. The fact that he knew where everything was piqued your interest. Was it an outcome of years of experience as a habitual drinker? Or did he often just randomly raid bars, hence his extensive knowledge of their layout? You didn’t want to know, but at the same time you did.

It took him a while to find a coaster before settling back to the spot beside you. Typing away at your laptop, you refused to give him even an ounce of attention despite his attention solely being yours. The silence that ensued was more uncomfortable than anything you’ve experienced.

Suddenly, you were all too aware of your crooked posture and your body snapped, straightening your shoulders rigidly. It felt stupid, but necessary for the sake of your sanity to keep your façade. Although it crumbled ever so slightly when Seokjin laughed beside you.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel tense,” his voice was languid and inviting.

You steeled yourself, refusing to be lulled into a trance by his intoxicating presence. “What did you really come here for, Kim Seokjin?”

“She speaks!” he exclaimed, clearly amused. You turned to give him an impassive stare. “Do I need a reason to visit my fiancée?”

His statement caught you by surprise, your poor heart bearing the brunt of suddenly having to pump more oxygen than usual. It brought warmth to your cheeks and you allowed yourself to fall into the fantasy of marrying the most eligible bachelor in all of Seoul. The fantasy, however, was short-lived as his wink broke the spell you were under.

“Don’t worry, this will be strictly business,” his back straightened up on cue. You tried and subsequently failed not to watch the way his deft fingers moved to loosen up his necktie. He then slightly deflated with a sigh, before grabbing his drink and taking a sip.

For courage, perhaps? It brought a small amount of accomplishment to know that you might have The Kim Seokjin nervous before you.

“It’s about the wedding, which you know is coming up soon.”

This was it. The topic you’ve been narrowly avoiding for the past week suddenly poured on you all at once like a bucket of ice-cold water. It wasn’t the most refreshing way of waking you up to reality, but it got the job done.

“I hope you aren’t getting cold feet now, Kim,” he grins at your attempt at humour.

“I apologize for not getting back to you sooner, by the way. My secretary said you tried to get a hold of me.” You remembered the woman’s monotone voice on the other end of the phone call. Part of the reason why you were reluctant to call back was due to nervousness from hearing her apathetic voice.

You shrugged in response, finding him less of an asshole than you had previously. Was your expectation of decency so low that you found anything remotely human he did to be an act of chivalry on his part?

Yes. Yes, it was.

“I tried calling because I wanted to know if I would be able to talk you out of this deal.”

Seokjin was visibly surprised by your candor.

“Oh yeah, and how would that have played out?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Surely, it was too late to take anything back, so you tossed all caution out of the window. He might as well hear your piece.

“The ceremony preferably cancelled. The Hwang Hotel back to its rightful owner, as if the whole thing hadn’t occurred in the first place.”

Seokjin regarded you with amusement in his eyes. The warm lights of the Grigio soften his rugged features, making it seem like he was glowing. You came to understand how he had the whole country enamoured by him. He was distressingly handsome.

You gagged at where your thoughts ended up and leaned back a little, terrified of feeling too intimate with the man who had claimed your hard-earned success for himself. The hotel means more to you in ways you know Seokjin will never be able to relate. A man who, with a little twirl of his fingers, would be making more money than you could ever hope to imagine. They say no hard work goes unpaid, but for him it was probably akin to: No hard work, but I get paid either way. How comfortable must it be to sit atop that domineering tower of his, overlooking the city he practically owns?

“And what do I get out of that possible scenario?” he began after a brief pause.

You refused to wilt under his imposing gaze. With a confident voice, you said, “The satisfaction of doing a noble deed.”

He barked out a laugh, tilting his head back in obvious enjoyment. You didn’t share the sentiment as you sighed before removing your prescription glasses. Perhaps hoping for the impossible was futile, after all.

“Look, I don’t care about this little passion project of yours,” Seokjin waved his hands around condescendingly, and you felt a familiar pang of anger surging from your chest. “And you’re lucky my father swooped in to purchase this hotel before you went bankrupt.”

“Thank you for the constant reminder,” you deadpanned, but he ignored you and continued. The gall of the man to show up and ridicule you made you irate. I take that back, he’s still an asshole in every aspect imaginable.

“To be frank, I think we’re both in a pinch here. You want your hotel back, and I’m willing to grant you that tiny little wish.”

You perked up; interest piqued. But you felt an ultimatum coming, so you squashed all hope arising from his statement. There was always a catch.

“My parents have been grooming me to become CEO ever since I learned how to walk. For me, acquiring the position is a no-brainer.”

“But?” you offered, and his grin widened.

“But lately my father refuses to hand me the reins. He’s been wanting to retire, but every year he keeps sticking it out. Then I unceremoniously learned my engagement with you. All of a sudden, his mood shifted, and his plans for retirement began piling up.”

Your brows creased in confusion, unable to see how you fit into all of this.

“My reputation precedes me, so I’m sure you’re aware of what I’m insinuating here.”

Something clicks in your mind, and you willed yourself to hold back a scoff.

“Enlighten me, Kim,” you propped your chin against your palm. If you were going to agree to this, you might as well have a little fun for yourself.

“My parents aren’t amused by my…” Seokjin trailed off.

“Decision to debauch half the women’s population of Seoul?” you offered, unable to hold yourself back. You grinned triumphantly; he had set himself up for that moral beating.

“I was going to say my inability to settle down, but sure, we’ll go with that,” Seokjin was unfazed, much to your disappointment. “He hadn’t explicitly said it but seeing the way everything is being handled so quickly, I can tell it’s what he wants. For me to get married; then maybe he’ll consider giving me the position.”

“And you didn’t oppose?” you asked incredulously. It seemed at the moment you were the one who is prepped to lose the most. What if it wasn’t you who the Kims chose for their son? Were you supposed to just accept defeat and give up your hotel?

“Oh, trust me, I vehemently opposed,” you nodded at his statement. At least you agreed on something. That was a start. “But that’s partly the reason why I’m here.”

“What more can we possibly do? We’re basically left with no option,” you grumbled, turning back to your laptop. For you, there was no way around this. Both your families have decided for you, so you have to either fall in line or risk losing your business.

“What if I tell you we can go back to our normal lives a few months from now? We won’t be married to each other. You’ll have your hotel back, and I’ll still be the CEO.”

You inadvertently leaned towards him, eager to know where the conversation was going.

“We just have to convince my parents and yours, as well as the board of directors of Kim Hotels and the public alike how we’re hopelessly in love with each other.”

Your mouth formed into a visible scowl, forehead creasing in confusion. You searched for hints of frivolity, waiting for him to say just kidding! at any moment. But his stoic face told you that he was being serious.

“And we’re doing this because…?” your patience had worn thin, expression marred by weariness and fatigue. You had a lot to get back to; you didn’t have time for silly games.

“It will make the divorce more believable.”

You paused, the gears in your brain turning. The agreement your parents told you about hadn’t involved a divorce; so, you were curious as to where Seokjin was going with his idea.

He was offering you an out; a way to get out of his family’s mess unscathed. You’ll have your only prized possession, and he can go back to sleeping with as many people as he wanted while retaining his coveted position. The proposition was too good to be true.

“What’s the catch?” your lips pursed, and you found yourself considering his ludicrous proposal.

“No catch,” he holds his two hands up in surrender, the corner of his mouth forming a smirk. You eyed him with suspicion.

“Just that you give effort into this whole thing. Make my father and the board believe enough to think I’ve ‘cleaned up my act’,” he paused to roll his eyes, “so that they’ll hand me the position without question. I promise you full ownership of the Hwang Hotel, without debt, as soon as we separate.”

While your parents’ original plan had been to marry you off entirely (which you did not want at all) Seokjin was sensible enough to figure out that you had no desires of tying the knot to someone you barely knew. He probably shared the sentiment, hence his proposal.

“This doesn’t make sense though,” you said pointedly. “Wouldn’t they find out about your motives when we divorce? And our parents technically arranged this, so they’ll be mad — I’m sure yours will be more than mine.”

You’re all in for finding a loophole in this whole arrangement, but you’re not sure you’ll agree if it will give you more problems in the long run.

He shrugged, unconcerned. “They can question it all they want. But like I said, if we make it believable enough, we can always reason that we ‘fell out of love’.”

In an attempt to alleviate a developing headache, your hands slowly massaged your temples. The information was a lot to hand, but no matter how many scenarios you played in your head, they all seemed to have the finale you wanted. Regardless of what happened within the upcoming months, you were going to get your hotel back.

“If you’re really that worried, let’s just say I cheated,” Seokjin’s words snapped you out of your muddled thoughts.

Your eyebrows creased in confusion. “Wouldn’t that be worse for you?”

“The public already thinks I’m a man-whore,” he said wryly. “The board is not going to kick me out of office for something tedious like a divorce once I’m CEO. And I’m sure I can reason it out with my parents when the time comes.”

You laced your fingers together, hoping to wring the concerns away. There was no use in overthinking the situation; it certainly beats staying miserably married to someone you barely know.

You let out a shaky breath, before mustering the confidence to say, “Fine.”

“Great, I knew you’d be reasonable.” He flicked his wrist to look at his watch, gaze composed despite the tiredness in his eyes. “I’ll have my secretary e-mail you a written agreement.”

“Great,” you mimicked his deadpan tone. Gone was the casual Seokjin who paced around behind the bar with much familiarity. This was the COO of Kim Hotels Seokjin; precise and straight to the point.

Better get used to that.

“Thanks for the drink, future wife,” he slid off the barstool with poise, the distance between you and him closing ever so slightly. He smelled like pine and cedar, with a hint of citrus; it was enough for you to suddenly sober up, unaware you were inebriated, to begin with.

“No need. You forced your way in, anyway.” You said dismissively, pretending to switch tabs on your screen. Where was that random website you were looking at earlier?

With a quiet laugh, he turned to leave. You listened to his rhythmic steps and perked up when he paused.

“See you tomorrow, fiancée,” he said without turning.

“Tomorrow?” you tried not to give away the surprise in your voice.

“We have to start going on dates to convince them that we’re serious about this, right? Pick you up at eight, sharp.”

With a wave of his right hand, he stalked off towards the exit, leaving you alone in the restaurant.

Suddenly, the premise didn’t appear so simple. You reached for your glass of wine and finished the rest of your courage drink in one gulp.

NEXT ;

thanks for reading! feedback is always appreciated ;u;

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