#the intricacies for each song if people have questions

[homosubtext]

omg speak now and red are also my favorite albums, just letting you know that you have taste <3 also you should totally drop your sakuatsu playlist, i would love to see it (no pressure)

we simply have taste. we just get it.

okay 🤭🤭 here it is 🤭🤭

pls everyone feel free to ask questions or tell me your thoughts on songs or them or anything really. i can probably recall the exact thought process i went through that made me add a song to the playlist LMAO

[payphoneangel]

For the ask game 1, 11, 24, 23 :))

what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

Oh boy, starting off with a bang! Uhhh this question is very broad so I guess I'll interpret 'things' as like, events. I could go media but ehhh i think events are more interesting.

1.1 I had a rare and severe disease as a child that deeply impacted how I view mortality, comfort, and the field of medicine. Luckily, I have essentially 0 lasting health impacts from it so it's all just emotional stuff! Hooray!

1.2 My parents split in my early teens, changing not only my living situation but also how I viewed the concepts of home, family, and romance/marriage. It also was the catalyst for which started repressing all of my emotions, something I had to work hard to unlearn in my late teens/early twenties. It was a good life lesson, to say the least.

1.3 Also around my late teens, I figured out I was genderqueer! This has changed a lot, both the intricacies of my gender itself, and how it's impacted my life. Everything from the way I look/speak, how I navigate interpersonal relationships, and how I conduct myself in public are impacted by my complex relationship with gender. It's fun and exciting and freeing and enlightening, but it's also frustrating, isolating, confusing, and downright scary sometimes. I wouldn't have it any other way.

11. what do you consider to be romance?

Tbh, it's something that has been on my mind quite a lot recently! Short answer: I have no clue 😅

Long answer: I have only recently just had the revelation that I cannot tell the difference between platonic and romantic attraction. I'm not even sure romantic attraction is something I'm capable of experiencing. I can recognize (and enjoy) romance in fiction, I sing along to all the love songs, I do my best to understand the feelings of those around me when they talk about romance. But for me? I don't know. I know I've loved people, deeply and earnestly-- I love people now. But every time I try to enter a romantic relationship with someone, I feel like I'm just doing what's expected of me; going through the motions of 'what romance is supposed to look like' without actually feeling it. It's hard to say though, it's hard to identify the absence of something. How do I say I can't feel these feelings if I don't know how to identify them? Or is that in and of itself my answer? To me, there isn't anything I'd only do exclusively with a romantic partner. I don't know what romance looks like because I'd happily do anything passionate, caretaking, or intimate with a friend. But I'm told there's supposed to be extra feelings, so... here I am.

23. say 3 things about someone you hate

YESSS TIME TO BE A HATER. Okay uhhhh 1) expected me to be responsible for an entire dnd group's happiness despite my own joy becoming less and less frequent when playing (exacerbated by playing become a literal obligation) 2) assumed he knew my own needs and solutions to my problems even when I DIRECTLY STATED OTHERWISE 3) decided i had daddy issues because-- and I cannot stress this enough-- I played a warlock in his stupid campaign. Then he tried to therapize me about it. thru dnd. Needless to say I did not stay in that campaign (despite his best efforts to not let me quit)

24. what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

Ahhh I could connect this to any of the earlier questions but I suppose since I'm answering these on here I'll say this: My improvement in writing!!

Spn really got me into writing fic. Outside of taking a creative writing class in college, I haven't done any writing outside of scientific writing since I was a teen. I had a lot to learn and relearn! It's been really rewarding to send my drafts to my beta reader, and watch the amount of edit suggestions lower with each project as my writing skills have strengthened. Of course, I still have more to learn, but honing my writing skills is something that brings me a lot of joy; and it's been very fun to write fics that other people enjoy too!

ask me some stuff

[tellmegoodbye]

✨️ weekend wip game ✨️

Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more). (There are also questions for artists/GIF creators below).

Or: harley attempts to answer the following questions without responding with push coda for half of them. 😂

Thank you @lemonlyman-dotcom and @thisbuildinghasfeelings for tagging me!

1. List your WIPs.

First I will list the WIPs I'm actively working on because there's only two of those

Push coda - we all know about this one

5 scenes before the wedding and 1 after - this one is pretty self explanatory, and I've shared some snippets from this as well

And these are the WIPs I have planned for the future

3x08 + 3x13 coda - this is pretty much what it says on the tin

hurt/comfort fic - two parts, the first one being hurt TK and the second one being hurt Carlos, this fic is going to focus on the unique ways they take care of each other

"green eyes" fic - this one was inspired by a song and the plan is to do an entire s1 fic from Carlos' perspective, but we'll see what happens

spicy fic (that is the working title we're rolling with for now) - this is essentially four chapters of pure smut with a ton of different emotions rolled into one ultimate spicy experience...at least that's my vision as of now

murder mystery AU - I still desperately want to write this, but the problem is that I initally outlined it for gallavich, accidentally deleted said outline (that I spent months working on) and now I'm considering switching it to tarlos

2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest?

Push coda!! My beloved and belothed...I swear to god this was not meant to be as long as it ended up being. It's currently at 27k and I'm still stuck on this one scene that's bugging me, but the end is in sight!

3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest?

I have no idea what came over me when I wrote the majority of push coda...that's the longest thing I have ever written as of now.

I'm sure the murder mystery fic will end up being longer if I do end up writing that, but out of the five different future WIPs I listed it's the least likely to see the light of day just because time is a factor for me.

4. Which WIP is your favorite/the most enjoyable to write? Why?

I think the spicy fic is going to be extremely enjoyable. I have so many ideas for that one!

5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?

Definitely the murder mystery fic. There's a lot of intricacies in that fic and it took a lot of planning when I initially outlined it. I'm usually a more "go with the flow" writer so it's very out of my element.

6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about? Why?

Probably push coda right now just because it's been a while since I've written and now that it's nearly done I'm afraid it's too long or that the pacing is weird, but I've been staring at this thing for so long that it's hard to be objective about it.

7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why?

All of them, hopefully. I'm scared to ask people but it's always nice to have an extra set of eyes, especially if you've been working on something for a while.

If anyone is offering, I wouldn't say no. 👀

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writers block?

All of them!

9. Which WIP has your favorite OC? Tell us about them?

I have an OC in my murder mystery AU that is very interesting in my opinion. I can't say a lot about this character without spoiling anything, but let's just say this character is a lot of fun to write. I also don't often make OCs, so that was a fairly new experience for me as well.

10. Which WIP is the sexiest?

WIP that is currently in progress? The 5+1 fic has a smut scene at the end that I've really been enjoying writing. If we're talking about my future WIPs, then of course it's going to be the spicy fic!

11. Which WIP is the angstiest?

Push coda! Some of the 5+1 fic is also pretty angsty, but I think as of now push coda is winning in that regard.

That's just what I've currently written. I have a feeling the hurt/comfort fic is going to be pretty angsty as well.

12. Which WIP has the best characterization in your opinion?

I'm not sure. I always try my best when it comes to characterization, but in terms of what I've currently written, the push coda delves much deeper into the characters' emotions than the 5+1 fic does, but that's probably just because I have a lot more written for push coda.

13. Which WIP has the best scene setting in your opinion?

Push coda for sure. There's just something about the combination of bad weather and angst. Very visually satisfying for me.

14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on?

........push coda, again.

15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why?

I have high expectations of everything I write. I'm definitely a perfectionist.

16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?

I never remember my dreams, but I think about my fics a lot! Part of what helps me visualize the scenes I write is by letting them play out in my head like a movie.

17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other fics don't?

The 5+1 fic is a new format for me! It's been a challenge but also a lot of fun.

18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humor?

I don't write much humor. I'm sadly not very good at that.

19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process?

I have no plans for this but I would absolutely be interested in an outside POV fic, especially a character like Owen. I could totally write a whole fic from his perspective.

20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs.

Push coda has some song lyrics included in between each scene. The lyrics are from this song.

-

I'm not sure who has and hasn't done this so open tag. Feel free to tag me if you do this!

[strifesolution]

The last chapter was so good!! And since you were talking about the fic's details, I was wondering about the playlist (I am listening to the main one on a daily basis) and I imagine that every songs were carefully chosen. I can guess what some songs mean about 5r6c. Like, From Eden is probably about Eden and Callie. You also mentioned that Genghis Khan is Dan and Wilbur's song.

Would you mind explaining how did you choose these songs and how some of them are related to the fic ?

(If this is too bothersome or would spoil too much of the fic, feel free to ignore the question)

LET’S GOOOO we’re so happy you like the playlist :D you’d be correct, most of the songs are chosen pretty deliberately, though a handful are more just there for the “vibe” of the AU rather than specific lyrics.

Link for anyone who hasn’t seen it; we update pretty often! I added Flu Game last night actually. Expect... a lot of art for this AU with the new Fall Out Boy songs LOL

Since there’s… a lot of songs, and a good amount of them would be kinda spoilery, we’ve both chosen one of our favs and wrote up a little analysis.

Here’s Van’s (@irished-lads) of Neon Moon by Brooks and Dun copied straight from our DM’s

~~~

fun fact, this is one of the songs i listened to on repeat while writing the earlier chapters. this is the ideal chapter 16 song in terms of story and vibe, and while an early 90's country song may have not intended to talk abt the intricacies of gay cowboy polyamory, I Sure Can Make It Do That.

peep the beginning;

There's a rundown bar 'cross the railroad track / I got a table for two way in the back / Where I sit alone, and think of losing you

thinks about kevin and sean having their degrees of feeling alone at this point. sean's always had a little bit of a thing for dan (not to mention kevin flirting with sean nigh all the time- note that kevin's only had to pay for one drink), and while kevin may be. erm. Physically Intimate (this is a pg-13 blog) with dan,he also wants more. its that disconnect that him and dan has that feels a mile long. Now. see the chorus:

Now if you lose your one and only, / There's always room here for the lonely

well hey. look at that. some of the loneliest guys in aurora sitting next to each other in a bar sharing a bottle of whiskey. they're friends, sure, but in that moment (ch 16), they recognize that they both can be more than that. to each other, and to dan. theres always room here for the lonely.

~~~~

And here’s mine (Emma here!) of STRIKE 3 by Ferry

This song is where the lyric in the fic's description comes from; it’s one from the PMV series Parties Are For Losers. You don’t need to watch the series to get the gist of the song (it is really good though!) but within the context of the narrative, the singer is voicing their frustrations as they desperately try to help those they care about who keep putting themselves in harms way. “You spin the barrel of a fully loaded gun” is just a fancy way of saying “STOP BEING RECKLESS!!!” because, y’know, it’d be a literal death sentence to play roulette if the gun is fully loaded...

In terms of 5r6c… well, one of the fics' central themes IS protecting the people you love. Dan continuously worries about what life Daithi and Brian had before this that made them criminals, and Sean and Kevin are protective of Dan, thinking Daithi and Brian are dangerous in arc 1, and suspicious of Spiff in arc 2. Here’s a bit from the first chorus…

"If there's no winning, might as well just have some fun." I want to scream, when will you get it through your skull that I will not let you drown? "The light is gone, the thought keeps running through your mind, but fearing life is easier than fighting, right?" Oh please, just hide behind this back of mine and save your helpless spite.

Which is peak sheriff’s office argument back in chapter 7...

I also really like the first verse relating to Daithi and Brian in the gang.

Channeling love through the fear of being torn apart by crowds of your barbarian peers. The human filth around us wants to trample all that is dear under the guise of watchful reason.

We learn from…pretty much every time one of them brings up Evan that it is NOT a very happy place to be, particularly in Brian’s POV of chapter 9.

Lastly, we have the pre-chorus.

A thousand years ago, it was a tepid autumn day. A lock has sealed this door— But no more.

If you recall in chapter 16, we learn the raid on the farm where Dan’s family died was in the fall (not directly, Dan always visits the bar on the anniversary and Sean makes the connection himself…but anyway)

...this is because ding ding ding of this song!

Unfortunately I can’t really talk about the last chorus and outro without SPOILING EVERYTHING so you’ll just have to guess from there ;>

~~~

Hopefully that's some food for thought! Honestly we COULD go over every song on the playlist but then this ask would be WAY too long. Just really quick: Hell's Comin' With Me is a HUUUUGE full story song but I really can’t say who it's about without giving away everything, Ambrosia Wine is the Kiwo/Mango dynamic, and Devil's Train (not on Spotify but would be on the playlist if it was) is gonna fit really well for the next few chapters!

[offleurs]

♕ →  myhyun​

surprisingly, an embarrassed 'oh, fuck' was not at the forefront of his mind. it was, instead, an overwhelming feeling that he had done something wrong and was being exposed (similar to when an indigo member would walk into his room unannounced and he had to close his laptop, fast).

yehyun stood up, dusting off his dustless shirt. "no, uh, i'm sorry," for all he knew, he could have been singing the song entirely wrong (although it didn't feel wrong). he was singing with his heart and didn't pay much mind to original adlibs; he was simply fucking around. fucking around with a company senior's song -- now the embarrassment was settling in.

"is this," his hands waved towards the empty space. "is this room yours?" he swore this was meant for indigo's pre-rehearsal, but who really knew. yehyun was known to get times and places mixed up.

he tilted his cap upward, making it so his eyes weren't hidden by the brim, "it's a really great song, by the way." he could have probably talked for an hour about the intricacies in the lyrics, the producing, every little detail that was stitched perfectly into the melody, chorus, you name it. but he stopped himself there.

"how are you, uh, enjoying chicago?" where that question came from, he, too, did not know. perhaps it was the echoing hardwood flooring that made the space between both him and her so much more empty, creating a gap he needed to fill.

Interrupting had never been her intention, she had never wanted to make him feel uncomfortable as she had obviously done. The soloist had been just curious, and maybe she should have knocked before walking in like she owned the place, but then she wouldn't have listened to him singing. Now, that would have been quite a loss.

"Why are you sorry?" It was flattering that people liked her songs enough to sing them with such emotion that had her heart clenching tight, making her chest feel too small to contain it with each breath she took. For a moment, he had made it his, and that was the beauty of music - people could express themselves through it, walls completely down, the world forgotten if only for as long as the melody kept playing.

Seonhwa shook her head as she walked closer, looking around. "No, mine is the next door. I'm sorry. I heard you singing my song and I couldn't help myself." Which had probably been rude. The singer probably hadn't meant for anyone to listen to him, and she had just done whatever she wanted, as usual.

Oh. The corner of her lips tugged into a sweet smile, always in awe that others appreciated the words she wrote when it really all came from her heart, and sometimes they didn't even make sense to her, so why would to other? INVU had meant everything to her - it was an album, a song, that she had worked hard on for months, as therapy and a way to move on from something that was rooted deeply within her heart. "Thank you. I really enjoyed listening to you. I have to confess that I had never listened to a cover until today."

The soloist leaned against a wall, hands behind her back, as she looked at the taller idol. "Chicago is nice. I admit that it's more interesting than other cities we have visited lately." Not to say they had been boring, but they had and Seonhwa was glad that they were finally going to better places. "And you? There is a lot to do here, it's been busy." When she wasn't practicing, of course. "You know, when I wrote INVU, I wasn't planning to release it." → @myhyun

[silverfoxlou]

I'm soooo excited for the album I honestly cannot wait so I wanted to ask you to rank the song by the titles and what we know about them so far ! and you can add what do you expect from all of them if you have certain expectations

Many many weeks later.. my apologies.

I don’t know if I can rank the songs because I’m so excited for every single song. But there are some songs I’m more curious about simply because of what we know about them so far

- That’s The Way Love Goes

The Oli love song 🥺. I’m imagining it as Louis writing about Oli singing Chiquitita to him. And how it always has to be the album closer (see below)

- Saturdays

People at the listening parties said they cried. And Louis said it was emotional doing the vocal for that song. All his songs are sad.. so for Louis to single this out to be an emotional song? We’re fucked. And it’s the longest song on the album…

- Silver Tongues

The title is just so intriguing. Silver-tongued apparently means “able to speak in a way that makes other people do or believe what you want them to do or believe”. But the song was described as joyous? And describing the intricacies of his relationship?? And it’s his favorite song so you know it’ll be one of the best on the album

- Chicago

If there is no mention of the ass tattoo, is there even any point?! But jokes aside. He also said recording this song was emotional. A deep song about a post lover… also for personal reasons I need to hear this song now

- She Is Beauty We Are World Class

Louis?? Using a gendered pronoun?? Honestly I just wanna know what this song is about? Is it cheesy? Is it a deep philosophical take on some social issue? It’s one of the dance-y songs

I’m also so curious to see if each version of the album will feel different or tell a slightly different story based on the order of the songs. Why does All This Time get moved up? Why do Angels Fly and Common People get moved down? Why is Holding Onto Heartache added just before That’s The Way Love Goes? Why is Paradise added before Holding Onto Heartache? So many questions. And one month exactly to find out..

[tourdion]

what do you like about leonard cohen? basically all i know about him is that he is (was?) a singer-songwriter who wrote for example famous blue raincoat. had dark eyes. think he was a jew but could be wrong. anyway, what's special about him to you? really wanna hear:)

well well well well... you definitely came to the right spot... or maybe the wrong spot if its too overwhelming to properly describe & it is 2am but well.... first essential key context is there was a time in my life where with absolutely 0 exaggeration at least 90% of the music i was listening to (often actually a lot higher then this) was leonard cohen like my question every day wasnt hmmm who do i want to listen to 🤔 but specifically which leonard cohen albums do i feel like listening to & with every single one of his albums i had some extended phase where i was completely obsessed with it for a while & i do deeply love every single one & listened to 1000 hours of leonard cohen one year... actually i even have a screenshot of one of those timewhizzs websites with a bar chart for that year demonstrating the extent of my insanity ill try to find it.....

so this is just the preface..... also i just realised im literally wearing a leonard cohen t shirt rn 😇

i think i have to say the one thing that i find really special about him is his depth.. sounds like such a generic way to describe poetry and music but i mean it in a lot of ways... first that in every single line has been created with so much intention and contains so much meaning.. one example of this is in the song take this waltz (which may be my favourite song ever) which is a translation & adaption of a lorca poem which includes a line leonard cohen added himself "theres a bar where the boys have stopped talking theyve been sentenced to death by the blues" which refers to a time that lorca met up with hart crane with a mutual friend translating for them who eventually left as they came to a gay bar bc he was straight so they could no longer communicate & eventually lorca was killed by spanish fascists who wore blue uniforms & hart crane killed himself like there is a whole story in just these two lines and multiple meanings within this as well

i remember when i first got extremely intensely insanely obsessed with him after you know only being casually obsessed for a few years it was via this song and i didnt even know the story behind this line yet but actually even then it already was my favourite.. but i remember thinking how there was so much intricacy in each of the worlds in these songs i specifically remember thinking that i wished i could just live in his music for a while (then proceeded to do exactly that for the next year 🤓)

another thing is there have been so many cases with so many of his songs that i have just listened to that one song on repeat for days and unlike so many other people his music never ever gets boring after this and actually just gets better as you gain a deeper understanding

another song that i find really fascinating is obviously famous blue raincoat but the thing that really fascinates me is it is really actually so vague but the story it creates for people is often very vivid or at least obvious seeming... so many articles/reviews/quiz answers/people ive interrogated over the years have had so many insanely different interpretations & while sometimes people maybe less secure in their answers like oh i havent listened that much i might be wrong etc the basic premise of the song is mostly just assumed to be as they think & its the details that are less clear but these "basic premises" are always so different & this is what i love!!!!

lets end with a tale from my childhood... so i was a very out of touch child who hadnt watched shrek or the x factor so the first time i heard hallelujah was in my school choir & to make sure we remembered songs properly we werent allowed to read words to songs and i remember being so stunned by the beauty of the words when the choir teacher read those lines to us...

also realising i havent really touched upon my deepest love for him even at all yet but i was frantically drawing diagrams between his songs and constantly having to add more details because there is always just so much there in all his writing.. so my main obsession is his religious/romantic ambiguity & from his very first novel to his last albums he released in his 80s there are still common themes & its just all so insane

so this is a picture of my diagrams i could find quickly on my phone but its very likely that more couldve been added since......

[he-who-writes]

Ten things I love about you (and the one thing I can’t stand)

1. Every Tuesday morning, you wake up early because you have a 9AM class and you stop by your favourite coffee shop on the way. You sit at the table closest to the front window so you can people watch. You always order an egg and cheese croissant with a cappuccino (with a dash of cinnamon sprinkled on top). You’re so polite and friendly to the employees and other patrons, and you never leave without tipping.

2. Your favourite band is My Chemical Romance even though you were born in 2005, because it’s your big brother’s favourite band. You even have a shirt from their Black Parade world tour, that you actually stole from your brother’s closet before moving out here for college. You know all of their lyrics by heart and you love singing their songs in the shower.

3. You’re very food adventurous, more than anyone I’ve ever known. It’s like nothing is too bizarre for you to taste; I’ve seen you try all sorts of meat and even insects, and one of your favourite meals is frog legs, which I have to admit sounds disgusting to me. But you speak about food and all of its intricacies so passionately that it’s almost impossible to dismiss your words. You really just love to explore options and try new things.

4. You collect noodle stopper figurines, which wouldn’t be such a big deal if you didn’t assign each of them specific brands and flavours. At first I thought it was a coincidence that your Blue Rose Hatsune Miku always sat on Chef Woo’s Thai lemongrass cup of ramen but after a while, I realized that she never sat on any other cup. I always wonder if you’ve written down your sorting system somewhere or if you just naturally remember who goes with what cup. It’s such an adorable (and very specific) quirk.

5. On Friday nights, when most of our classmates go out to drink and party, you spend the evening at the library. I thought you were studying at first but unless you have an exam coming up, you just read for fun. The silence is almost deafening some days, because nobody is there but us. You sit at a table with a few books, usually really niche non-fiction stuff, and you flip through them until something really catches your attention. Nature, historical facts, true crime, politics, societal issues - there’s nothing you won’t read. You’ve taken out “Other-Wordly: Words Both Strange and Lovely from Around the World” three times already, maybe I should buy it for you on your birthday.

6. You talk in your sleep. A lot. And you also laugh the cutest laugh like someone in your dreams tickled you. Most of what you say is nonsense, real words but strung together in sentences that nobody awake would say in any context. I’ve heard you ask questions so absurd that I had to cover my mouth to avoid waking you up with my giggling, and I have to admit that I’ve recorded you a few times just so I wouldn’t forget all the funny things I’ve heard.

7. Your cat Milkshake is spoiled rotten. I know this sounds like a critic but it’s something I adore about you. Maybe it’s because I grew up around men who didn’t show much feelings, or only owned dogs, but your relationship with your cat is so special. I didn’t even know you could take cats out on walks before I saw you put Milkshake into his little harness to tour the neighbourhood. The fact that you have tiny seasonal bandanas for him melts my heart. And I know you hold full conversations with the little guy, where you give him his own little voice and everything.

8. You have the funniest way to sneeze. I’m so used to the stereotypical loud sneeze from men in my life, but yours is so unusual. It goes up in pitch in one syllable and then down in the second, like a word, like you’re an alien who read that the onomatopoeia for sneezing is “achoo” and decided that you should try to emulate it. But you’re an alien so you have an accent on your “achoo” and it doesn’t sound quite like the way we say it. It’s so hard to explain but it’s so delightful and always makes me smile.

9. At least once a month, you have a virtual movie night with your dad. You’re both fans of horror, thrillers, sci-fi, and similar genres so you try to always watch new releases that sound interesting when they’re available to stream. And you’re not scared of crying when something tragic happens, even in front of your father, who never berates you for it even though he’s from an older generation. Your favourite movie is The Invitation and your father really loved Parasite - both are awesome movies, by the way.

10. You have a hidden tattoo on the side of your left thigh. You never show it but you really should, because it’s so beautiful. The way the artist rendered Hokusai’s The Great Wave off Kanagawa in full colour, using a shade that perfectly replicates the rich Prussian blue used back then is spectacular. It really looks like a woodblock print that somehow fades seamlessly into your skin. I don’t know why you hide it, or what it means to you, but I could look at it for hours and never get bored of it.

With all of that said, I should really tell you what I can’t stand though, right? Communication in relationships is paramount after all.

What I really hate about you...The one thing I despise.

Is that you don’t know that I exist.

[pascalishere]

I wanna write a concept album where the kayfabe is that it’s a Greatest Hits album from a band that doesn’t exist. The band in question would be similar to the Beatles or Fleetwood Mac, or Pink Floyd, legendary classic rock acts with a a fuckton of drama. Each of the fictional band members would be uniquely horrible, irredeemable monsters. Every song would be faux-philosophical and meaningless, or just be about the writer being awful people. I want one track to be a bog standard love song where the members get into a full out fist fight while the drummer improvises. The album would be a satire of the popular rock music that came out of the 50s-70s, purely because I loathe that kind of music.

Two problems:

1. I don’t know how to write music

2. I’m pretty sure that my hatred of classic rock is blinding me from any of the qualities and intricacies that it does have. In order to effectively satirize something, you have to know what you’re talking about I’m pretty sure. I think this idea was mostly borne out of my Dad playing too much Steely Dan while I was growing up.

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

Hi are request open ? If they are could I request some HCs on Gajeel with Lucy or Lisanna, in a platonic way please 💗

All i'm hearing is triple brotp

Gajeel often goes to Lucy when he's stuck with something in his songs and needs help with the formatting or swapping out words to help the song flow better. She's his beta if you will. He just kinda wordlessly slides some papers her way and disappears. It's how they communicate.

Lisanna likes grouchy people (lookin at you Laxus), meaning that she likes bothering grouchy people so Gajeel was an instant target for whenever she had shenanigans afoot.

Gajeel wasn't sure what impression he was supposed to have of Lisanna when she came back. Initially he was assuming a mini Mirajane but when he saw her running around the guild like a mad woman and causing problems on purpose he was just like 'Ah shit. Got a second Salamander.'

He does like her more than Natsu though. Natsu's annoyance inspires violence, Lisanna's annoyance just makes him wanna jump in a convo with her a trade spicy quips. A tolerable annoyance.

There's a running joke between Lucy and Gajeel about him eating her keys. Lucy's being a bother? Threaten to eat her keys. Virgo or Loke being a bit too much? Threaten to feed it to Gajeel. Lucy jokingly saying she's gonna stop being a celestial mage because people keep challenging her for her zodiac keys? Feed it to Gajeel. It's all in good fun.

Lisanna has no filter whatsoever. She can and will ask a million questions at rapid fire and will not let up. She's not asking invasive questions but god, shes asking about his piercings, why his eyes are slit all the times unlike the other slayers, shes asking which metal is his favourite, shes asking about his criminal record, asking about his hair care routine. She's tiring she wants to be and is the only person who can successfully get Gajeel to disappear from the guildhall. (This is deliberate on her part bcus she wants to see how long he can hold out.)

Lisanna- 'Gajeel i have a question! :)' Gajeel, activating iron shadow mode and melting away to the shadows-

He and Lucy pull on each others hair when they want to get the other ones attention. Listen i can't explain the intricacies of their friendship, they're just like that.

Gajeel uses both of their heads as an armrest. It is his god given duty as the tall friend to do this to them.

Gajeel got Lisanna to shut up exactly once and only once. She came up to pester about something and he just, finished his drink and rested the mug on top of her head and walked away. She was frozen in shock for like 2 minutes at this before she recovered and yote it at him. Lucy was on the floor and wishes she had her lacrima rolling to capture the magical moment.

[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. 

[sunnyville36]

Mamihlapinatapai {part 2}

Thank you all so sooo much for the kind feedback on part 1! Part 2 is coming at you now! 💜

Need to catch up? {overview} {part 1}

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader

Themes: royal au, medieval au, court intrigue, arranged marriage, original characters, mutual pining, slow burn

Warnings: injuries, mentions of death/war/murder, emotionally abusive parents

Rating: Mature

Word count: 4.5k

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Mamihlapinatapai - (noun, Yagán origin) a silent acknowledgement and understanding between two people, who are both wishing or thinking the same thing (and are both unwilling to initiate)

A Summer’s Ball  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

The next few days were just as tumultuous as the first, Chan and Korenna slowly progressing from treating each other with complete silence, to short-lived bickering, to finally being able to hold a civil conversation for at least a few minutes.  You escorted them to more ceremony preparation meetings, then to councils with the foreign affairs ministers, the historians, the priests, each one stressing how this union would be a stepping stone in your two kingdoms’ relations and they should think of it as a huge honor.  You couldn’t help but feel sorry for the both of them, being reminded over and over how their lives were simply a means to an end, to be controlled at the whim of their fathers’ aspirations.

A turning point finally came when the three of you visited the city surrounding the palace grounds, the prince refusing to miss his weekly visit to the village market.  Chan loved to interact with his people, to support their businesses, to hear their grievances, to show he cared.  You followed behind the two of them as you walked through the plaza lined with stalls, Chan waving to each of the merchants, Korenna watching him with a mix of reservation and admiration.

“Your people seem to be thriving.  I wish I could say the same about our villages.”

You eyed Chan, knew he was forcing himself to hold back a biting remark, likely about how if Lajor’s people were currently suffering, it was the monarchy’s fault.  He finally came up with a question, trying his best to keep the conversation going.

“Have you brought up your concerns to your father?”

“I’ve tried, but he doesn’t want to listen to anything I have to say.  All he cares about is what he thinks is right, no matter who suffers for it.”

Chan nodded solemnly, “I can understand that.”

Korenna gave him a somber look and appeared to have something more she wanted to say, but was promptly dragged off by a small child wanting to show her his father’s bakery stall.

You nudged Chan’s arm.  “See, she’s not so bad, Your Highness.  If you give her a chance.”

He started in the direction of the princess, turning to walk backwards and smile at you with his arms out in a lighthearted shrug, “If you say so.”

***

That evening the king was hosting a ball, to celebrate the engagement of the prince.  You’d helped Chan dress, his midnight blue velvet ensemble and dark hair set off against the silver crown he wore making him look more like a deity of the moon than an earthly prince.  Then you had gone to assist Korenna.  You couldn’t deny how beautiful she looked as you watched her from across the room, her champagne colored gown and perfectly curled blonde hair standing out against the relatively muted colors worn by the other attendees.  She was standing away from Chan, talking amongst a group of noblemen’s wives and other high powered ladies, but her eyes never strayed far from his back as he talked with Minho and some other knights around a wooden table in the corner.

“You look quite stunning tonight, Y/n.  Purple is definitely your color,” came a deep voice on your left, and you turned to see Prince Felix approaching you, his small frame clothed in a breathtaking deep red suit.  The younger brother of Prince Minho, Felix had the sunniest personality of anyone you’d ever met, quite contrasting to his voice but in perfect harmony with the bright smile he flashed as he reached your side.  It had been several months since you’d last seen him, his studies as apprentice to your kingdom’s Chief Healer taking him to the academy in the highlands far away from the city.

“Prince Felix!” you exclaimed, arms reaching to pull him into a quick hug.  “I could say the same for you; that red suits you perfectly, Your Grace.”

Felix laughed, releasing you from his hold.  You and he had been close friends since childhood, ever since, at the age of 5, he’d stepped on the hem of your skirt and you’d pushed him into a mud puddle, causing guards to rush over and attempt to have you arrested.  His mother and the queen had stepped in, calming the guards as you remorsefully reached out your hand to help him up only to be pulled down into the mud next to him, the both of you dissolving into fits of laughter.

“I’ve missed the city.  And it seems the city has missed me for all the excitement it’s spun up in my absence.”  His eyes followed your gaze to where Korenna had made her way over to Chan, and watched as she led him out to the quiet balcony overlooking the gardens.  “How are you taking all of this?”

“I’m fine, Your Grace.  What reason would I have not to celebrate such a momentous occasion?”

Felix fixed you with a knowing look, but dropped the subject, content to stand with you at the edge of the dance floor.

“Y/n, I thought I told you not to let Christopher and the princess out of your sight,” came King Bang’s voice from behind you.  “The last thing we need is for them to get into one of their verbal sparring matches with the whole court present.”

You turned, lowering your head to the king.  “Of course, Your Majesty.”

You left Felix next to the king, his expression turned to one of distaste at his new company, and walked quietly out onto the balcony where the couple was talking.

They were standing closer together than you had ever seen them, leaning forward against the railing’s edge.  They seemed to be deep in conversation, Korenna actually reaching her hand up to place it on Chan’s back.  It didn’t feel right watching them without their knowledge, so you cleared your throat loudly, causing both their heads to snap up.  Chan looked slightly embarrassed, his head tilting forward, but Korenna’s expression was almost unreadable.  She stood staring at you for a few  seconds, then pursed her lips, nodded her head to Chan, and walked back into the main ballroom as you approached him.

“I apologize, Your Highness, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Trust me, Y/n, you didn’t,” came Chan’s tired reply.  You wanted to know if she had upset him, to know how you could comfort him.

“What were you discussing?”

A soft song started to make its way out from the half-open door.  Chan looked up at you, completely ignoring your question.

“Dance with me?”

Several seconds went by in silence.  He reached out his hand, eyes imploring you to say something, to say yes.

This was dangerous.  You couldn’t think of a worse position to be caught in, dancing with a betrothed man far above your stature.  But you also couldn’t think of a way to say no to him.

You took his hand and he pulled you flush against him immediately.  You tried to resist the urge to place your head on his chest, but the feeling of being in his arms was too much, made you feel so safe.  So you laid your cheek there and felt a low hum come up through his chest.  It was quiet for a while, the two of you simply swaying back and forth, not doing any particular dance.  You felt his head rise from where it had been resting on top of your head.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, but you look gorgeous tonight Y/n.”

“You told me that earlier, Your Highness.”

“I know.  I wanted to tell you again.”

Then he placed his head back down and you continued to spin in slow circles until the song ended.  He brought your movements to a stop, taking your hand and kissing the top of it as he leaned forward in an exaggerated bow, “Thank you for the dance, my lady.”

You looked at him with a small smile.  “You’re welcome, Your Highness.”

He returned your smile, turned, and walked back towards the party.  You felt your chest tighten, feeling a little too much like your dance had been his way of saying goodbye.

Thinly Veiled Threats  |  Kingdom of Gu, 6 years ago

“Watch out!”

You turned towards the direction of the voice just in time to see Chan break through the wooden fence in front of you, thrown off his horse by the force of the lance he just took to the chest.

The prince had just turned seventeen, which made him eligible to compete in the annual Four Kingdom Competition, where knights, lords, and even royalty from the continent’s four greatest kingdoms met to determine who among them would be crowned victor in a series of strength tests.  His father had of course insisted he enter on his first eligible year, which had led to the activity you were currently engaged in, training a boy who was used to classrooms, libraries, and diplomacy lessons the intricacies of hand to hand combat.  The tasks ranged from archery to sword fighting, wrestling to jousting, and while Chan knew his way around a broadsword and shield, it was clear that the latter of those was not going to be Chan’s strong suit.

You walked calmly towards where he sat on the ground, knowing he would only be more embarrassed by any attempts to rush to his aide.  He was sitting up, so you could tell he wasn’t badly injured, but his right hand still stretched across his abdomen to clutch at his left side.  He’d been hit there at least three times now, and if you had to guess, what was once a bad bruise was more likely a patch of broken skin at this point.

Voices floated around you as you pushed your way through the small crowd that had gathered around him, many asking the prince if he was alright or giving unsolicited advice on how to avoid the outcome he seemed to be cursed with.  You picked up on the voice of a squire, one who served the boy who had knocked Chan down most recently, as he nudged the side of the older boy’s arm.

“You could have gone a little easier on him, you know.  His mother just died.”

Great.  Just what you needed; a physically and emotionally wounded Chan.

“Alright, give him some room everyone.  His Highness is fine; go back to your own practicing.”  You shooed away the stragglers and knelt so Chan could wrap his free arm around your neck, hoisting him up and slowly making your way to the infirmary tent.  Leaning him against the side of a cot, you reached for the clean cloth and distilled vodka; this was going to hurt like a bitch, but Chan could take it.

“You’re pulling back too much and too early, it leaves your side vulnerable,” you said, carefully easing off his ripped tunic so you could tend to his wound.

He stayed silent for a few moments, fingers gripping harshly against your shoulder as you cleaned the cut and wrapped a bandage around his midsection.

“I…,” he trailed off, seeming to struggle to find the words he was looking for.  “I’m a coward.  I’m a failure and a coward and everyone knew it except me, until just now.”

His words knocked the wind out of you.  You knew he was ashamed (entirely unnecessarily) when he couldn’t hold back the tears at his mother’s funeral while his father maintained his perfectly stoic expression (that heartless bastard), knew he was self-conscious about his fighting abilities, but you’d never heard him express that insecurity so directly before.

“Your Highness,” you spoke softly but forcefully, hands cupping his face to make him look you in the eye, “you are one of the bravest men I know.  You have one of the hardest burdens a person can bear on your shoulders, have had it since you were born, and you carry it with grace and dignity and compassion.  You inspire me and countless others every day with your strength and generosity.  You are not a coward.”

He looked back at you, and suddenly you felt yourself being engulfed in his embrace, his legs parting to pull you close to him.  He wrapped his arms tightly around your chest, his head pressing into the crook of your neck.  Slowly you brought your hands up and began to rub small circles on his bare back.  This was the most emotion he’d shown since that night you stood beside his mother’s bed, watching as he held her hand and whispered all the things he wanted to tell her one last time.  You were a little overwhelmed, but mostly happy, happy that maybe he was feeling again.  Eventually you heard his quiet voice next to your ear, “Thank you, Y/n.”

Then he released you from his hold, donned his shirt, and walked back to the jousting pitch.  You watched him go, until a deliberate cough came from behind you, shattering your reverie.

“I suppose he’s lucky to have you.”  The words spilled from the king’s mouth, his signature gravelly voice seeming to chase all other sound from the tent.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, I hadn’t noticed you were here,” you spoke, bending into a curtsey.

“It seems it is quite easy for the two of you not to notice others when you think you are alone.”

You blinked, unsure of where the king was going with his remarks.  He sidled up to you, close enough you could hear him at a whisper.

“I may have owed your family a debt, but that has been repaid ten-fold.  I know my son, know he would never be led astray of his responsibilities unless you gave credence to those thoughts in his head, fed his intimate physical desires.  So do not delude yourself into thinking you can take him from me, little servant girl.  And if he ever does come to me, asking me to set aside our laws, our traditions, so he can marry you, I’ll know what you have done, and you will never see the light of day again.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Satisfied with your response, he left you there, his words staining your mind like the bloody cloth you clutched in your hands.

The Hunt  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

How he managed to get his father to agree to this you had no idea.  But Chan always was very convincing when he needed to be.

You were preparing for a day’s long hunt.  In all honesty it was an excellent idea; it would give Chan space to be himself after having been shut inside the palace for two weeks, preparing for his impending nuptials.  Normally this was one of your favorite activities to do with Chan and the knights; getting to ride, to spend time in the woods, maybe use your bow.  But the one condition of the king’s agreement had been that Korenna was going too.

She’d been different with you, with everyone really, since that night on the balcony, avoiding attempts to make small talk and speaking harshly when she made requests.  You didn’t want your relationship with her to turn sour, seeing as you’d soon be serving her for the rest of her life (and yours), so you held your tongue and pressed on with your duties.

Chan’s black courser and your chestnut palfrey were saddled, and you were in the midst of preparing a well-tempered white mare for the princess.

“Good morning, Y/n.”

You looked up, seeing the dark head of hair and upside down smirk belonging to Prince Minho smiling down at you as he leaned over your kneeling frame.  “Good morning, Your Grace.”

You were not as close to Minho as you were to Felix, but you had always gotten along well, your similar sense of humor and affinity for archery solidifying your friendship.

He offered his hand to pull you up, which you accepted.  “I’m glad you will be joining us on this outing, Y/n.  I’m not sure I could handle Chan and Korenna on my own, even with 5 other knights to accompany me.”

You hummed in agreement, finishing attaching the bridle around the mare’s head.  “I’m not sure you could either, Your Grace.”

Minho let out his signature high pitched laugh as the rest of your party approached, and the two of you maneuvered to the front of the pack as you set off towards the nearby woods.  You all rode in silence for a while, riding not typically being an activity that required much talking, until you heard Korenna speak from her position next to Chan in the middle of your group.

“So, who is the best at the strength tasks of the Four Kingdom Competition?”

A strange question to ask so out of the blue, but you supposed it was somewhat relevant to the situation at hand.

“His Highness is an excellent swordsman,” you replied, looking back slightly in their direction.

“Sir Jeongin has given us all a run for our money in the wrestling ring,” you heard a voice from the back say.  He must be one of the other knights in your party.

Chan replied next, “Minho is a skilled horseman, beats me in the joust nearly every time.”

Minho’s eyebrows rose up at that, smirking as he rounded out the answers, “And Y/n here is an expert marksman.  She’s the best I’ve ever seen with a bow.”

You thanked him mentally, hoping he could read it in the look on your face.  You weren’t about to boast about your own talents to the princess, but it was nice to know that she was now aware you weren’t just some lovesick girl who followed the prince around, that you actually took your responsibilities seriously.

“Really?  And who taught you about archery, Y/n?”  You thought you heard a touch of menace in her normally high pitched voice, but brushed it off.

“I’ve had many teachers, Your Grace, but the first was my father.”

“How very… non-traditional.  Where is your father now?  I’d love to meet him.”

You saw Chan and Minho tense in their saddles, well aware of what your answer would be.

“He died, Your Grace.”

“Oh,” said Korenna, her voice noticeably softer now, “I apologize for bringing up a sore subject.”

“It’s alright, Your Grace,” you replied.  “It was a long time ago.  You couldn’t have known.”

An uncomfortable silence fell on the group then, but luckily your first planned stop was not far ahead.  A small grove of trees surrounding a clearing was where you usually began the hunt, splitting off in different directions and meeting back there before sundown.  But because you had the princess with you today, it was a more laid back affair, and you’d planned to have a picnic of sorts before you continued in earnest.

Everyone set about unpacking the sacks that carried your meal for the day.  You uncorked your canteen, taking a sip before heaving an exasperated sigh.

You’d forgotten to bring extra water for the horses.

You called over to Chan, where he stood spreading out a blanket for Korenna to sit on.

“Your Highness, I’m going to the creek to get water for the horses.”

Chan looked up and you could see the smile on his face from where you stood across the grove.  “I’ll go with you!” he said happily, only to have his arm tugged back by the princess next to him.

“You are not a servant, Chan.  I’m sure Y/n can go by herself.”

Your loud conversation had caught the attention of the rest of the group, who were all looking over at you in interest.  You were surprised by her bluntness, but she did have a point.  “Her Grace is right, I don’t need you to accompany me, Your Highness.  I simply wanted to tell you where I was going.”

Chan gave a side glare at Korenna, but agreed.  “Fine, but you shouldn’t go alone.  Sir Jeongin - “

A tall boy, clad in the red, black, and gold uniform of your knights, walked over to the prince.   He was no more than eighteen, must have only just taken his oath.  You remembered his name from the earlier conversation about the strength tests, impressed he was making a name for himself so early.

“ - please accompany Y/n to the stream to fetch water for the horses.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

So the two of you set off, leaving the rest to their meals.  You didn’t really need a knight for protection, but your heart warmed at the gesture of Chan not wanting you to go alone.  You arrived at the bank of the creek and began filling some extra pouches you had brought with water.

“It’s so much quieter here,” Jeongin commented absentmindedly.

Despite the sound of the water running, you agreed it did seem calmer here than in the grove you came from.  As you knelt by the edge of the stream, you noticed large patches of grass surrounding some nearby trees had been pressed down.  Curious, you walked over to the area, observing the singed ground and muddy boot prints on the rocks, telltale signs of human presence.  You hadn’t run into anyone else on your walk over, but maybe there were some others out riding today.  Raising your head, you called to your companion, “Sir Jeongin!  Were there any other hunting parties out today?”

“Not that I know of, Miss,” Jeongin replied, his expression revealing he was rather confused by your question.

You looked around again, and that was when you noticed the torn piece of blue fabric latched to a jagged branch on a nearby tree.  Your blood ran cold and you grabbed Jeongin’s arm, breaking into a run.

“We need to get back to them.  Now.”

You’d made it about half way back to the grove when you heard a scream, you and Jeongin sprinting to reach the clearing.  But when you arrived, the scene was entirely not what you expected.

Your mind had immediately gone to the Lajorans when you spotted that piece of cloth on the tree.  But here you stood, watching men clad in your own colors raise their swords to clash with the group of knights who’d accompanied you and the royals.  Your eyes frantically searched among the chaos, looking for Chan, but before you could spot him you noticed Korenna, hiding alone behind a large rock at the edge of the treeline.  You pulled Jeongin back behind a tree, gesturing in her direction.

“Do you see the princess over there?  You’re going to grab her, get on a horse, and ride back to the palace now.”

Jeongin was looking at you with wide, scared eyes; his mouth was open, not making a sound.

You shook his shoulder.  “Sir Jeongin, do you understand me?  Do not look back at us, just take the princess and get her to safety.  I need you to do this.”

Your words seemed to finally reach him, and he set his mouth in a straight line.  “Yes, I can do that.”

“Good.  Go.  And don’t look back.”

He left your spot behind the tree and you turned back to the action in the grove, still trying to find the prince.  Finally your eyes landed on two men standing back to back, swords flying as they blocked the attack of about 6 different men.

Chan and Minho.

You started towards them, reaching for your own sword, when you spotted someone perched in a tree right outside the circle of men.  The attackers started to pull back from around the two princes, and you could see exactly who the archer had in his line of sight.

You screamed his name, sprinting to cross the clearing and threw your body in front of him, arms outstretched.

You felt a sharp pain in your left shoulder as you fell against Chan’s chest, his arms coming up to catch you.

“Y/n!  Y/n!”

Trumpets were blaring from the direction of the castle as Minho dragged Chan back, still desperately clutching you in his arms.  The attackers were dispersing and you heard the sound of a voice saying “Chris”; it took a moment for you to realize it was your own.

“I’m here, Y/n, I’m here.  Just hold on please.  You’re going to be okay, just please hold on.”

The last thing you saw were his eyes as your vision went black.

Of Flower Buds and Roots  |  Kingdom of Gu, 16 years ago

“Mother, when will they be here?”

You were standing in the open-air courtyard at the front of the palace, your mother’s hands on your shoulders.  The two of you had moved to the palace a few years ago, when your mother had gotten a job as a servant there after the war ended.  Today, you were told, would be the day you were to start your position there, as personal attendant to the young crown prince.

“I’m sure soon darling.  Remember we never rush royalty.”

As you waited, your eye was caught by a small boy standing with a large scary looking man.  He looked to be about your age and was holding a tiny bouquet of wildflowers in his hand.  The man seemed to be trying to take them away, but the boy clutched them to his chest.  A woman who you thought you’d seen before approached them, glaring at the man, who backed away from the boy as she took his hand.  Then, they started walking towards you.

Your mother tightened her grip on your shoulders, bending into a curtsey and pushing you down with her.  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.”

“The pleasure is ours,” came the queen’s pleasant voice.  She knelt down between you and the boy.

“You must be Y/n.  This is my son Christopher, the prince.  You will serve as his attendant.”

You stared at the boy, his eyes even with yours, hair mussed and shirt covered in dirt.

“He doesn’t look like a prince.  He looks like me”

“Y/n!” your mother gasped, the queen chuckling slightly and calming your mother with a hand on her arm.

“You’re right, he might not look like one yet.  But it’s going to be your job to help him become one.  Do you think you can do that?”

You pondered her question and finally said, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

She smiled and stepped aside, placing her hands on Chan’s back and pushing him forward.

“Hi Y/n!” the boy said excitedly.  “My name’s Chris.  Or Chan.  Either’s fine!  I brought you these flowers!  I thought they might look pretty in your hair.”

He extended his tiny fist holding the flowers and you took one from the bunch, pulling back your hair and putting the flower behind your ear.

Chan’s face immediately lit up in the brightest smile you’d ever seen, his eyes crinkling cutely.  “I was right!”

From that moment on, you decided there was nothing you wouldn’t do to see that smile on his face.

{part 3}

[shorkbrian]

Problem

Prelude - Don’t come @ me pls I tried to be pOeTiC and artsy okay lol

Pairing - Keigo Takami X Reader

Warnings - no NSFW, religion, blood mention, nonconsensual touching.

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/4SQ0ytpTP8v1Rx8FWR22cv?si=d_i0QJowT9yF-b6rZMOKvw

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People often don’t notice the little, gradual problems.

Cluttered desks, dishes in the sink.

The thing that stands in the corner at night.

You only noticed it after it started to move, creeping closer, sitting in your chair, bright golden eyes piercing through the dark.

His name is Keigo, he tells you, and there’s no reason to be afraid.

Of course, that doesn’t stop fear from icing over your veins, stomach twisting, hands clutching at your blankets as if they were a shield to protect you from the strange entity that had haunted your bedroom for so long. You had done so well, pretending that the shadow was nothing but a trick of the light, that there was nothing there except a chair filled with dirty clothes.

He doesn’t come any closer, crosses his legs in the chair he occupies, tilting his head as the two of you stare at each other.

His name is Keigo, and he’s an angel.

-----

The angel has been with you all your life.

He is able to recount the days you’d spent in your room, crying and begging God for something different, to take your pain away. The moments you thought you had been alone, forgotten.

The troubles you’d overcome, the faint flashes of happiness that filled your life and made you feel light and warm.  Keigo even remembered the color of your bedroom walls in your childhood home, the small scribbles you’d made in the corners, near the baseboards. How you’d get in trouble for leaving your mark on your world, be punished for taking up space.

You were too young to remember that.

But Keigo remembers.

He was there for all of it.

When you confide in him your fears, small whispered thoughts, Keigo listens.

“I feel so lonely all the time.”

“You may feel lonely, but you’re never alone. The plants in your window love you, for you give them life. Your bed welcomes you with the arms of a lover after a long day, loves to hold you in it’s embrace. The ground welcomes the steps of your feet, how you shape it’s very existence just by being present. You’re an entire ecosystem, your flesh sculpted from the earth. Your blood is brewed from rainwater, thousands of creatures live inside of you and on your skin. And of course, you have me. I am never far from you, you’re never truly alone.”

Life doesn’t seem as bad.

-----

The angel usually only appears at night, when you’re tucked in bed, fresh from a shower. You’ve come to like his visits, no longer feel trepidation when he shows up in the corner, materializing out of thin air.

He doesn’t look like what you think he should. There are no heavy wings, no  countless eyes, no sharp halo adorning his head. No white robes or silken clothes, just tattered jeans and a hoodie.

But he doesn’t look exactly human either, with his golden skin and molten eyes. His fingers are long and slender, made for music and praise. The curve of his soft lips makes it easier for him to worship, to condemn or guide his charge.  Hair that looks too soft, like liquid gold that flows from his scalp. You want to touch, but you’re afraid to ask.

You notice that the plants in your house flourish at night, when Keigo is around. The tender stalks seem to reach for his presence, follow his form greedily, as if he has a gift that he’s withholding from them. Flowers bloom and vie for his attention, and Keigo laughs, touches the petals gently and watches the blossoms burst with color and growth.

His existence as an angel is unquestioned, not when he proves to you that he knows you to a degree that you don’t even know yourself. The freckles decorating your skin, those are all from him. It’s true that they’re angel kisses, given to the people they favor, that they watch grow.

They’d dusted across your nose as a child, light and varied. Darkened as you’d gotten older, appearing on your hands and peppered over your face in no particular pattern.

It makes you blush, and at first you don’t believe him, thinking he’s playing with you. But Keigo moves to the edge of your bed, gently takes one of your hands in his own, and lifts it to his lips.

A freckle appears when they press to your skin, a dark mark pushing to the surface.

You spend the next day looking at each of your freckles in the mirror, studying the marks that mar your skin. They’re sprinkled across your shoulders, you’re collarbone, your ankles. It’s strange to think that each mark is evidence of a kiss. Why would the angel kiss you?

When you ask him the next night he visits, Keigo pauses.

“Sometimes… there’s a hole in your soul, and that’s just the way things are. And you try to fill it with various things; songs that make your heart waltz, views that make your eyes long for more, raindrops against your skin. I’ve found the most effective way to fill it is with being with the person who makes the world seem less bad.”

How can an angel feel incomplete? “Are you not God’s perfect creation?” You ask.

Keigo sighs, and says no more.

-----

“Why is that book your favorite?” Keigo has read it before, scouring the pages to try and find pieces of you in it. He’s read all of your books, picked up every single thing you’ve ever touched, ever looked at, jealous of the way it had caught your attention.

You don’t know.

You don’t know why you love the book clutched in your hands. You just do. Keigo thinks he understands.

He’s been visiting earlier and earlier, while the sun still rests above the horizon. The angel never asks about your day, he’s there for every moment, just never visible to you.

He’s the warmth that soothes your skin when it’s cold out, when you’re afraid that your jacket won’t be enough to stave off the chill.  Keigo whispers reminders into your ear, a little tickle that helps you remember to turn in sale reports on time, or what time you’re supposed to meet with a new client.  He never gets the credit for all that he does, but that’s okay.

Your thoughts turn to him constantly, mind churning with questions. Why show himself now? Is that allowed? What is heaven like? Is God kind?

Keigo brushes these questions off, frowns when you ask them. He won’t talk about his holy father, nor his own role as a guardian angel. You learn to hold your tongue.

The angel prefers to talk with you, or sit in silence as you tend to your evening tasks. You think he might be lonely.

——-

You wake up sometimes with warmth still on your skin, more freckles dotting along your body.  But there’s already so many, the new ones go unnoticed.

Keigo is never around those days.

“Why do you not visit?” You ask him, saddened by his absence. Was it something you did wrong? Were you no longer worthy of his presence?

“I met someone that reminds me of warm toned skies. I’m afraid of what I might do to them.”

You don’t know what that means. Asking the angel to clarify results in a long silence, and you look out the window of your house to take in the stars, the clouds that try and hide them from view. You wonder if Keigo knows their names.

“I saw you in my dreams” Finally, the angel answers, golden eyes fixed on his hands folded in prayer in his lap.

“You dreamed of me?” You didn’t know angels could dream.

“At first…. Now I think of you. I..... I love you on purpose, I love you intentionally.” The confession is weighty, said slowly and quietly. Golden eyes find your own and search for acceptance.

What do you do when an angel confesses their love? 

When you stay silent, Keigo disappears.

Sleep does not come easy that night.

——-

“Nothing you humans do ever matters. All that really matters is what you do.”

He’d appeared after a time, a few weeks where you stared at the chair in the corner and saw nothing. You weren’t sure if you were glad that he was back.

Keigo was critical of your actions, hovering behind you while you tended to the plants in your home, lounging on the counter while you cooked meals, sitting near you while you read and making you nervous at his unwavering company.

“So the meaning of life is to give life meaning?” You had answered his subtle jab, and Keigo had shown you his teeth in a smile. It looked much less like a smile, more like a gesture of a puppet, a mockery of a human with too many teeth. He didn’t say whether you were right or wrong.

Safety was no longer the prevalent feeling when Keigo was around.

The angel does not have the same restraint he used to exhibit. He touches you now, unashamed of his needy nature, how he craves your humanity, fascinated by the intricacies of your life, the thoughts that run through your head.

It makes you uneasy, his hands cold as ice when they find your own. But who are you to tell an angel they are wrong?

He never misses a night spent in your presence, even when you think he does. The angel waits till you’re asleep, creeps past your defenses and indulges in human comforts.

You always murmur in your sleep when he slips into your bed, when his cold, cold vessel presses against your warm body. Keigo wonders if he could steal some of your warmth, carry it with him.

“You look perfect even when you’re half asleep and not speaking proper English. I am so in love with you, it feels like I’m floating all the time” You don’t hear his words, but he says them anyways.

-----

His residence is overbearing.

You find yourself spending more and more time away from your home, spent at work, where he doesn’t appear. Nights are spent with friends, drinking in their homes, sharing stories about romantic endeavors.

A small part of you knows that Keigo must be nearby, being your guardian angel. But he never materializes around other people.

The angel grows desperate for your company, invades any spare moment you have, while you’re using the bathroom, showering, when you’re early for a meeting and alone in the conference room.

His demeanor is casual, relaxed, but you begin to see the outline of his wings, blood red plumage displayed across his back.

Strong emotions bring out their wings, you had learned. A dropped glass had wings flashing behind Keigo as the angel was caught off guard, and you’d begged for him to show you them.

He couldn’t make them visible at will, he had explained. They only showed if an angel was experiencing strong emotions, strong feelings.

Their appearance now made you afraid.

You tried to talk to Keigo one rare night you spent at home, work out your differences and soothe his feelings towards you, the jealousy and the anger that sank deep into his being.

“I don’t know how to make this better. I don’t have feelings for you the same way you feel for me” You had confessed.

Keigo’s eyes had blazed, yellow fire flickering in the iris.

“My body forgot what it felt like to be warmth. You’re the sun that I step into, the rays that fall upon my back and warm my wings, the heat that fills my heart and spills from my lips.”

He was passionate, gripping your arms with too-hot skin, and it burned.

“Before you go to sleep at night, you water your flowers, your plants. In the light of your window I can see your body wrapped in your nightgown, and you’re indistinguishable from the blossoms.”

The pain seared deep into your bones, and you felt anger, true anger at the celestial body in front of you. Never had you asked for his affection, for his protection.

“I have thought about my love for you, and the ways I could describe it are innumerable. You’re so human and it makes me want, and I don’t know what to do with the fire burning within me. I love you-“

You’re screaming at him then, and the sky turns dark the same moment you thrash out of his burning grip. Harsh words are said, things you should’ve expressed months ago, when the angel broke your boundaries into pieces and did what he pleased.

But the courage was here now, the bravery to defy an angel, to say that it was wrong, that you didn’t want them around anymore.

The sky crackled with lightening, and Keigo’s wings filled out, full of sharp, dangerous feathers. You had wondered about the color, why they were red instead of white, but as it began to rain, the red sloughed off, dripping to the ground in thick rivulets.

His blood-red wings were colored with the spatter of the sins he’d committed. But Keigo never talked about his sins, never about heaven.

Now he did, shouting at you with his thunderous voice, telling you of the lengths he had gone to in ensuring his existence in your life. How he’d begged at the feet of God to be allowed to show himself to you, to express the desire growing inside of his traitorousus body.

How he’d been shamed, shunned.

He’d shown himself to you anyway, took each reprimand in stride. When another angel had been assigned to you after the golden one’s confession, Keigo had broken, fought with teeth and claws.

The blood of his brothers tainted his wings.

So much had been sacrificed to stand by your side.

There had been no grand plan, Keigo had seen you and knew he wasn’t like the other angels. He was different, able to feel and touch and learn.

The two of you scream at each other, you spitting hateful things, how you wish he would leave you alone.

Keigo doesn’t care, you’ve made him feel and he’s not letting that go.

Lightening strikes a tree and it erupts into flames, and the tears running down your face are hidden by the pelting rain.

You hate him, he scares you.

It’s said out loud, and the angel stops in his tracks, looking at you with emotions you can’t begin to understand.

He leaves in a rush, his wings still stained red despite the cleansing water streaming along them.

——-

Keigo leaves you alone.

Your flowers start blooming again, even without the addictive presence of a holy angel.

The freckles dotting your skin fade, and you don’t mind, you don’t miss the marks that litter your thighs, your chest, the marks you’d never allowed to be made.

Life is okay again. You can breathe.

“It’s cold again and I miss you” His voice makes you drop the glass in your hands, and it shatters against the floor.

His wings materialize for a second, red as blood, dripping.

But then the angel is waving his hand, and the shards of glass on the ground are gone, the puddle of water, his wet wings.

Keigo has something to say to you, and he wants you to listen.

“I’ve got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you. But I didn’t. And, in truth, it was maybe better that I didn’t - I say that now, though it was something I regretted bitterly for a while.” He keeps stepping closer to you, until he’s in your space, heavenly body inches from your own. He feels like marble, a chill emanating from his golden skin.

“More than anything I was relieved that in my unfamiliar wanting-to-talk state I’d stopped myself from blurting out the things on the edge of my tongue, the things I’d never said, even though it was something I knew well enough without me saying it out loud to you like this….. which is, of course, I love you”

“This won’t work, Keigo.” You explain, voice small. “We aren’t the same. I have someone out there meant for me, and it isn’t you.”

He frowns, takes your hand in his, interlaces your fingers. The angel presses a kiss to your knuckles, the same as he did the first time you met him.

“If soulmates do exist, they’re made, not found. You build a relationship with the person that makes your heart happy. I demand the labor of love so that I may make it. Craft so that I may make it art. So that I may make it mine.“

You don’t get any more say in the matter.

-----

His love is all consuming.

It grows and burns with each moment he spends with you, leeching off of your warmth.

People often don’t notice the little, gradual problems.

They don’t notice until the problem becomes unfixable.

[firelord-suki]

firelord-suki fanfiction masterpost

- Are there still beautiful things?

Summary: Levi and Hange were childhood best friends until his father was arrested and he had to move to another city. Now, twenty-one years later, both encounter each other again and have a chance to reignite their friendship. Will friends all they'll ever be? Is there a chance to build something more?

Inspired by the Taylor Swift song "Seven"

- Of thorns and petals

Summary: "Hey, Levi..." Hange smiled widely and prepared to ask him a stupid question. "No." They pouted. "You didn't even know what I was going to ask." "You were going to ask me to spend Valentine's Day with you." "Wrong!" They raised their finger at him like just they won an important argument. "I was gonna ask you to spend Valentine's eve with me. I can't leave the shop on the 14th."

Or a self-indulgent flower shop AU about two broken people dealing with grief and learning how open up again.

- Unkissable

Summary: "Both versions are horrible,"

"Greek myths tend to be." They were right. Greek tales were full of tragedy and death. Icarus, who flew too close to the sun. Medusa, who was abused, vilified, and then killed. King Midas' gold touch gift soon became a curse. It never ended well.

"Tell me a nice one," Levi asked, trying to get them to talk, trying to cheer them up. "No deaths, no terrible endings. Just a good, kind one."

- What the water gave me.

Summary: The Royal Mail Ship, or in short, RMS Titanic, was a 270 meters long, 28 meters wide structure. It weighed 45 thousand tons and could travel up to 24 knots. It received its name after the Titan legends Hange loved so much as a child..."

Hange Zoë is the only child of one of the most important men of Paradis Island. However powerful her family had become, she was kept in chains from her desired future, detained from her true inquisitive nature.

After boarding the ship of dreams, facing a night filled with nightmares and dealing with arranged proposals, Hange met Levi Ackerman, an underground boy who might help her to pursue true freedom.

Or A Levihan Titanic AU I decided to write instead of sleeping.

- I say that I hate you with a smile on my face.

Summary: “Separating from each other once was hard enough, but having to deal with that fate with each new visit was almost unbearable. Sometimes, Levi could hardly enjoy Hange’s company, the fatality of their separation always hanging in the air like rain waiting to pour.

With every departing hug shared, with every accepting tear shed, Levi left a bit of his shattered heart there. He’d murmur reassuring phrases to himself, just a few more years and she’ll be home.

Just a few more years. But that certain promise started to sound more like wishful thinking each time he whispered the words.”

Levi and Hange's relationship took a sharp turn after she decided to study abroad, both struggle and wonder if it's worth it to continue with their romance between constant fights and a growing distance.

- The intricacies of female sexuality.

Summary: “A guest forgot… something in their room.”

Levi raised a brow, trying to understand why exactly was that his problem. “Something?”

“She wouldn’t tell us what it was.” The blond general manager explained fast. “She said Hange would know..."

OR a Hotel AU where Levi and Hange got into an embarrassing situation.

- Two single beds.

Summary: "But his thoughts traveled back to her figure in a tight dress, dancing around with guys he didn’t know, their hands touching her body in places Levi wished he had the courage to. His mind wandered to what was going on behind the bathroom door, Hange naked and wet from the running water. He wished he could barge in and stay under the shower with her, panting and moaning until both were lying in the floor tiles."

- The silence of the flowers.

Summary: Levi said nothing and focused his attention on the endless sky that covered an endless scene. “Are you proud?” Hange continued, their words getting lost in the breeze.

Levi wished those words could reach the dead.

We’re here. Are you proud of us?

The only answer they got was the silence of the flowers."

- Open when I'm gone.

Summary: "She had learned, from a very young age, that every living being is born, grows old, and then dies. Some are fortunate enough to have a meaningful life before dying, or are lucky enough to afford it.

It’s a shame really, that Hange barely had the time to fully and unashamedly live before death decided to pay a visit."

- Our Little Talks

Summary: "It's been five years, seven months, and twenty-two days since Hange Zoe’s death, and Levi Ackerman had been avoiding the subject for just as long.

Hange was gone. She had left. And a piece of him was taken with it. To avoid any more missing pieces, to avoid more heartbreak, Levi ignored it. Those five ignorant years felt longer than necessary. Ignorance took more of him than grief."

The one where Hange's ghost decided to pay a visit to help her best friend heal (direct continuation to “Open when I’m gone”)

- Hidden in the woods.

Summary: With the beginning of the second world war, thousands of children were taken away from their homes in the urban areas and directed towards the rural parts of England for their safety. Hange Zoë, a 12-year-old girl, and daughter of a renowned Royal Air Force pilot, stood amidst those kids.

Saying goodbye to her father and brother wasn’t an easy task, especially when the chance of tragedy striking her family once more after her mother’s death was still present, but the prospect of meeting a new place and its people was an inviting experience to the girl.

Her new home carried a lot of novelty, and ever since Hange arrived, the forest that surrounded the place seemed to call for her soul to come inside. With the help of Levi Ackerman, a closed-off resident of the town, Hange wants to find out all of the secrets that lay beyond the path of those tall and ominous trees.

-  A million years of waiting.

Summary: Hange decided to give up on chasing useless dreams – or that’s what they tried to believe. The long-lost memories continued to make appearances during the nights, the phantom touches from another life still reverberated on their body, and the absence of someone else grew bolder with each passing day.

During those days, weeks, and then months, longing and loneliness walked hand in hand. The more they dreamed about the unknown, the more they missed it.

- Paradis Hotel

Summary: “Let’s make a bet right now.” Hange proposed, flaunting a wide grin once Levi glanced in her direction.

“What kind of bet?” He couldn’t help but ask, despite the logical side of his brain screaming that it was a terrible idea to fall in further into Hange’s playfulness. That was his workplace, after all.

“If I’m right, you’ll have to wear a maid costume for an entire shift–”

“Absolutely not.”“If I’m wrong,” She continued, promptly ignoring his protests “you get to go on a date with me.”

 -  Sentimental 

Summary: They started moving from side to side, not quite aware of the particular steps of that local dance and loosely following the lazy tempo of the song. The movements were slow and careless, something completely different from their affair. Their relationship was always sharp and methodical; secret encounters away from the spotlight, different hotel rooms that smelled like liquor and roses, late-night conversations about the future of their careers, and an unspoken agreement to never fall in love, after all, they didn’t need another set of problems.

With the whole picture into perspective, Hange had been playing a losing game. Sometimes, all she wanted to do was let go of the ledge and just fall.

-  Bound by time

Summary: Levi was so damn lonely that he traveled miles just so he could sit against the ruins of the past to write in a stranger’s diary, wishing for an answer. And for now, there was one. Someone to share his thoughts with, someone who waited for him too. There, Levi didn’t feel so damn lonely anymore.

“Hey, Hange. Tell me more about the stars.”

Reincarnation AU. Levi and Hange communicate through entries on the same diary.

-  Before fate pulls us apart

Summary: "He had been denying his feelings for so long that he didn’t even know what to call them.He had found the person he cared for the most, yet, under the heavy fog of love, he knew there was nothing he could do to protect them forever. His insides blazed on fire, the smoke would suffocate him slowly. 

But if it would kill him anyway, why not take this chance? Now, not later. Now, before the war pulled them apart again."

Prompt: Levi and Hange go on a not-date with the ODM gear.

[westmoor]

of men and horses

It’s a common misconception that Jaskier favours the winter season. 

He likes it well enough, truth be told, and he’ll hardly complain about generosity shown by the esteemed and wealthy that request his presence (and puts him up quite handsomely) at courts and castles to add a dash of colour to otherwise dreary months.

But the life he chose for himself is one of travel and adventure, and as much as he revels in all the intricacies and intrigue of life among nobility, it holds little in competition with life alongside a Witcher.

As such, the first week is always the most enjoyable. Sinking into a cushioned chair in heated chambers after every night after a rich supper, letting the chafes and scrapes of the road fade from his skin and the weariness to seep from his bones. 

An audience of fresh faces, and the ability to take the sidelines and enjoy the layers of courtly drama that didn’t directly involve him (yet.)

New connections to make, old ones to catch up with.

The first weeks are always the nicest.

After that, the restlessness sets in.

His legs, not used to settling, have soon wandered down every hall. No corner of the courtyard left uncircled. The woods, if the estate has any, seems disappointingly void of fearsome beasts.

Most places have stories that he occupies himself with uncovering, some many layers deep, that turn into a song or a story of its own.

This year he’s hardly so lucky.

The lord is an old acquaintance, friendly but drab, and he understands fully why his presence in their midst was desired. The bard seems to be the most interesting thing to pass their land in the past five years or so. These people, Jaskier thinks, have altogether far too few worries.

The first week has barely waned by the time he tires of the confines of the upper class and extends his periphery to the stables and kennel.

He’s come to feel at home near a stable, he finds, though riding was never his sport. A stable is a stable no matter it’s location on the continent, the smells and sounds blending into each other from one to the next.

And then there are the people. Quiet or chatty, but earnest and hard-working more often than not. There is something about the gentle tones and steady hands of men who handle horses that makes to soothe the ache that settles in a Witcher’s bard’s heart in the first weeks of winter.

His hosts keep a good stable, as he had expected, knowing their hobby of not just hunting but breeding and training horses fit for the task. As a result, the yard is teeming with life even when the ground freezes under sheets of white. Seasoned mounts taken out for exercise, greener ones finding their footing, yearlings being taught foundations from the ground.

Jaskier takes to watching them work, in between trading stories and songs and conversations. He is at his core an aesthete, and can appreciate the visage of a fine specimen atop a fine mount even if it’s not within his particular field of study.

He ends up not just watching the riders, however.

There’s a mare. A young deep red bay bought from a trader all the way down in Cintra that autumn. The head groom had sung her praises at first, practically waxing poetic about balanced structure and the ease of her gait, but as time wore on his tone had soured somewhat. 

She is, as one of the stableboys put it, a hellion.

Jaskier adores her.

It has become a habit of his over the past handful of days, wandering down to the paddocks after breakfast to watch an otherwise capable horseman fail to mold her into something more agreeable.

There is little progress to be had, and the workers have already started lamenting the likelihood of her being sold on in spring, too headstrong and too temperamental to suit his Lordship’s preferences.

Jaskier can’t help it. 

Watching her huff at pressure and wheedle her way out of tension, and occasionally deer-hop her way over fences and leaving her rider in the muck, tugs on something rather close to the spot in his heart warmed by the sight of broad-handed grooms humming softly to their favourites. 

He has even succeeded in bribing his way into her good graces, armed with apples and candied sugar, a feat he’s rather proud of.

The downside to this routine is that he spends such excessive time thinking about Geralt, in addition to the time he would normally spend thinking about Geralt, that when he rushes down from the main hall one frosty morning and sees a black-clad fellow in the yard, he very nearly goes right past.

It had snowed in the night, morning cold freezing it to dust over branches and parapets, now drifting down as powder with the gentle breeze. Fogged breath drifts along a stubbled cheek, crystallizing in silvery locks.

The moment between Jaskier’s heart skipping a beat and his mind catching up to reality nearly has him going face-first down the stone steps.

“Geralt!” he exclaims, confusion warring with disbelief but both losing out to joy.

The way the Witcher’s eyes light up at the sight of the bard is enough to drive him closer, stopping just short of throwing his arms around leather-clad shoulders and drawing the larger man in for a hug. 

The relief washing across Geralt’s face at the friendly reception provides all the warmth he needs, however. As unexpected as his arrival is, it pains him to know that Geralt might think his presence unwanted and it costs him nothing to prove those ideas false.

“What a surprise! I must admit I didn’t expect you so soon, though I’m glad to see you still hale after four entire weeks without me.” 

There is a genuine question in that statement, but he has a handful of theories relating to the answer, gleaned from his friend’s disposition and the apparent lack of hurry.

“Roach twisted a fetlock just past Hagge,” he says, and something heavy settles in the pit of Jaskier’s stomach. “Couldn’t make it to the mountains before the storms set in.”

“Oh.” Rifling through his admittedly limited knowledge of animal medicine yields little, but he knows the speed at which Geralt travels, and combined with the tension in his jaw - Roach is hardly a yearling. She has been a Witcher’s companion longer than him. “I’m sorry. Is she..?”

“I left her with a farmer. The one with the werewolf problem.”

Jaskier nods, he remembers it well. A good man, he’d paid handsomely with what he had. His son had been a journeyman at the time, though by now he should be a trained blacksmith in his own right.

There are worse lots for a horse to draw, he supposes. Besides, he wonders how many of Geralt’s noble steeds had earned a retirement. 

“I suppose I’ll have to visit next time I pass that way,” he says, at the lack of better comfort. The lines at the corners of Geralt’s eyes soften a fraction, and he knows it’s right. 

A thought stirs at the back of his mind, like opening a door, just a crack.

Maybe. Just maybe.

Geralt doesn’t look too torn. Resigned, if anything.

Sometimes, Jaskier figures, one just has to try.

“Well,” he says, suddenly decisive, and this time he does step up and clasp a hand over Geralt’s broad arm. “If you’re not too tired - your baggage can wait, I’m sure - and if you don’t mind indulging me, there’s someone I’d like for you to meet.”

[starlightshadowsworld]

Jason was someone who knew the value and the importance of a good night sleep. And life on the Argo ll showed him that the others were lacking in that department.

And without quite fully realising it, he studied them and found solutions that maybe they hadn't even realised.

(Or, Jason is distressed team mum and wants to help everyone get some sleep)

He'd find Percy drifting off while sat on the sofa and would inquire that the other slept. Percy would give him a fond and amused grin "yeah, I will." But Jason can see the bags under his eyes and the way he's slower to react (not by much of course, it was Percy after all impulse was kinda his thing) and resists the urge to shake his head.

Instead Jason goes over to the window, and feels his power fill the air. A cool gust of wind and the trickling of rain start to appear, followed by the cool lapping waves of the sea (because of the wind) and Percy listens to them absentmindedly but only takes a few minutes for him to nod off on the sofa, lulled by the sounds around him. Jason had heard him fondly talk of Montauk, of a rainy cabin by the sea and Jason knew at once what to do.

A light swirl of wind picks up the blankets from his room and tuck him in, a pillow pet wedged in his arms.

Jason finds Leo tinkering in the engine room with Annabeth by his side. They've thrown themselves into another invention and happily explain it to him. And while most of its intricacies go over his head, he praises them regardless (and tries not to frown at how surprised they are, especially Leo to receive genuine praise. That he files away for later.)

His points of going to sleep fall on death ears of course, but he's caught them before they've started to consume any caffiene. Jason takes a deep breathe and mumbles some words in a language he's never truly used before. But Leo does, freezing in place and staring at Jason in open mouth surprise.

It's a song Reyna sings, has sung to Jason more times than he can count. On cloudless night skies full of stars, when all they have is each other to hold on to. Jason doesn't completely known the language but Reyna uses it when there alone, he wants to know because he knows just how important it is to her.

Tears well up in Leo's eyes, his body sags and his eyes flutter sleepily like Jason had hoped. It reminds Leo of his Madre, and warmth wells up in his heart. To seal the deal, Jason hands over a blanket with all the importance of a treaty and mimes for Leo to put it around him.

Leo raises an eyebrow, still reeling from the song and does so. He gasps in surprise, for this is a weighted blanket that seems to by magic dull the anxiety that wells up in his friend. (Jason is certain that weighted blankets are just magic). He gives Jason a grin but for once it reaches his eyes, eyes that shine witb gratitude "okay okay, I'm going to sleep Jase if you're gonna go through all this trouble."

Annabeth looks like she's about to protest for all of 3 seconds before shaking her head and bade Leo goodnight. She gives Jason a calculating look "I'm assuming you're doing this with everyone." Jason nods, open and honest because he has nothing to hide and knows how much that means to her. Annabeth stares at him for a few seconds, before nodding, accepting it.

"We have been... Running ourselves ragged I suppose...." To Jason that's an understatement, she can read them all but he can read her 2. He can see just how much she's struggling to keep herself together. Otherwise she'd probably have put up more of a fight to his plans. "So, care to tell me what you thought of for me?"

Jason smiles, taking out a book and pressing it into he'd hands, she raises an eyebrow and makes what's halfway between a snort and a chuckle. "You want me... To read till I sleep?" She asks, Jason nods absolutely serious. Annabeth isn't sure how to react that but finds no harm in it and does so. She's about 5 pages in when her head falls onto the pillow beneath her and softly snores.

Annabeth had been that exhausted that few things wouldn't have made her fall asleep. That is if she were anyone else, but she was Annabeth. She was someone who's guard was raised at all times, so he made his intentions clear and handed her a book to help her sleep. It wasn't that the book was magic or anything it was even what it contained though that was important.

It was on keystone arch way design, an architectural style that had been pioneered by Romans. This particular book was one of Jason's favourites, and by giving her a book important to him, about something he cared about he was able to gain her trust. Jason had relaxed Annabeth enough that her guard dropped momentarily so that her tired body was able to win out.

Jason had no doubt she would read the book the next day and bookmarked it for her, using the wind to gently send her to her room.

He found Frank polishing his bow and talking to Hazel. Jason strode over to them and told them that it was late and they should rest. That they had a big day ahead of them and he wouldn't want them to get hurt through their exhaustion.

And while the words were casual enough, they bore with them a certain edge. Not harshness or even cruelty but a certain form of confidence that spoke of authority. Now Jason didn't have authority, not here but he used to. Frank and Hazel has known him for a while personally but not as long as he'd been their Praetor and Jason knew instantly that they'd recognise his tone.

But he didn't leave it there, otherwise he'd have felt cruel and cold, and besides it wasn't the whole plan. Jason smiled warmly, and began to tell a story. Like so many he'd shared at a campfire after long days at Camp Jupiter. Hazel curled up beside Frank who stifled a yawn, the almost Prateor voice had got their attention yes.

But the story pulled them in, just like it always had. It was one they'd heard a thousand times of a mission a former Prateor had been on but Jason weaved words like magic and before he was finished they were out like lights.

He smiled fondly, just like than and wrapped a blanket around them and left once they were comfortable.

Piper was sat by one of the windows, staring into her blade in deep thought. Jason clears his throat to make his presence known and she jumps slightly, waving at him once she regains her composure. "Oh, hi Jason. What's up?" She tries and fails to hide her true feelings. Piper's afraid, and Jason knows it. He asks her if she can fall asleep and she shakes her head silently. Jason nods, expecting as much and sits beside her.

Instantly she rests her head on his shoulder, it takes a few seconds but she voices her worries. Her anxiety and fear about their mission, and he holds her close. Jason let's get it all out, even prompting her at times before consoling and comforting her. He addresses every one of her fears with a realistic but kind response, it reminds him of new campers still learning the ropes and asking a billion questions all at once.

He comforted them, answered their questions and made sure they knew he was always their to support them. Jason comforts Piper the same way, bringing up that she has improved, how far they've gotten and holding her close.

And it helps her relax, much like it did to them in the past and once she does she starts to yawn. He gives her a pointed look and she laughs tiredly "fine I'll get some rest, only if you do as well." Jason nods, watching her go back he'd to her room.

Of course he will, he fully intends to keep that promise like all the rest. The rain is more natural now, perhaps he'd initially caused it but oh well. Jason thinks of the seven, or rather the six and how they've worked their way into his heart. He thinks of Reyna and knows she'd have been amused of his efforts as she always is.

And now Jason finds himself able to sleep, now that he knows everyone else is well and truly resting. And that's what he feels as he drifts off to sleep curled up in a nest of blankets like the wolf he is.

When Nico joins them, and everyone notices him having trouble sleeping there is little surprise among the six when Jason quietly approaches him.

It's a lot less surprising when they see Nico drinking hot chocolate at night and discussing Mythomagic strategies with Jason, as his eyes begin to flutter, that remind him of so much of late night conversations with Reyna on days that have been so hard on them both.

Because every now and again Nico will drop in something serious in their friendly banter and Jason will not belittle, nor ignore nor make light of it or coddle him but listen and ensure he feels listened to. Because that he finds is what Nico needs... And if he manages to hug him at some point and get him to sleep that's a definite plus.

(Really wanted to hammer it home that Jason makes others feel comfortable by addressing who they are as people and uses himself to help.

With Percy he uses his powers to remind him of his safe place when he's in distress.

With Annabeth he uses his passion and being a literal open book because he knows she values and needs trust and safety.

With Leo and Nico it was his friendship with Reyna, of how they've both helped each other when there hurting and applied what he's learnt here.

With Frank and Hazel and Piper it was his role as Prateor, the knowledge of how to help tjise who are openly hurting and want that support and telling stories because that's what helped campers like Frank and Hazel are to feel better.

Because helping others is such a core part of who Jason is)