#this is me reminding not only myself but YOU too my friend!
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Gojo Satoru x older reader (7 age gap) headcanons


Synopsis - as a.normal adult that lived a stressful life , who thought she'll get a reason to live, pushing all the stress aside.
Warnings ⚠️ - f!reader , older reader. Reader is 28 and he is 21! A university student.
© not canon this is just a work of fiction, fuck off if you are pissed.
♡ Younger gojo - You first meet Satoru at a café near his university, where you often stop by after work. He’s loud, effortlessly charming, and annoyingly persistent when he notices you.
♡ Younger gojo - He overhears your conversation with a friend about work stress and, in typical Gojo fashion, inserts himself into the conversation with a teasing remark.
♡ Younger gojo- He starts showing up at the café more often, making playful comments about how it must be fate that you always run into each other.
♡ Younger gojo - He shamelessly flirts with you, dropping cheesy pick-up lines like, "So, how does it feel to be my ideal type?" or "You're a whole seven years older? Damn, you’re basically my cool, sexy senpai."
♡ Younger gojo - He teases you about your ‘serious adult job,’ acting mock-impressed whenever you talk about work responsibilities.
♡ Younger gojo-Despite his playful nature, you notice he actually listens when you vent about work. He remembers little details,your annoying coworker’s name, your favorite way to destress,and brings them up later in thoughtful ways.
♡ Younger gojo -You hesitate at first because of the age gap. Seven years may not be huge, but you still see him as a reckless, flirtatious university student.
♡ Younger gojo You remind him, "Aren't you too young for me?" only for him to smirk and reply, "Nah, you're just too perfect for me to ignore."
♡ Younger gojo - He works hard to prove he’s not just some immature kid. He’s persistent, but not in an overwhelming way he gives you space while making it clear he’s serious.
♡ Younger gojo - He loves calling you "Ms. [Last Name]" just to see your reaction. You roll your eyes, but he sees the small smirk you try to hide.
♡ Younger gojo-He lives to fluster you, whispering teasing things in public just to see you struggle to keep your composure.
♡ Younger gojo-He insists on paying for dates even though you earn more than him. If you tease him about it, he pouts dramatically: "Let me be a gentleman, okay?"
♡ Younger gojo-He loves stealing your work shirts or sweaters, claiming they ‘smell like you.’ It’s his comfort when he’s drowning in university assignments.
♡ Younger gojo-You’re more level-headed, but he has a way of making life exciting. He drags you out of your routine, making you loosen up and have fun.
♡ Younger gojo-He’s surprisingly good at giving emotional support. If you ever feel overwhelmed by work, he makes you take breaks and does something stupid just to make you laugh.
♡ Younger gojo-But he’s still Gojoz,immature at times. He complains dramatically when you act too much like an ‘adult’ “Babe, stop being so responsible and come play with meee.”
♡ Younger gojo-You find yourself being the one reminding him to study, eat properly, and sleep on time. You joke about babysitting him, but deep down, you don’t really mind.
♡ Younger gojo - He casually talks about the future with you, dropping comments like "When I graduate, we should move somewhere nice."
♡ Younger gojo - You worry about how people might view your relationship, but he never lets it get to him. "Who cares what they think? I have the coolest girlfriend ever, i mean mommy-" you smacked him.
To the ones Asking me if gojo was my favourite NO he is not ☹️ my suguru bby is, why do I create so much fics about him then?


Alright so Cannonically I m similar to gojo YES I m , like seriously. When I first saw gojo , I was like , he is me , I m him. So it's like , i know myself better than anyone else, that's why I make gojo fics more often, some fics are based on real life incidents 🫦


#jujustu kaisen#jujustu kaisen x reader#jujustu kaisen x y/n#jujustu kaisen x yn#jujustu kaisen x you#jujustu kaisen x f!reader#jujustu kaisen fluff#jujustu kaisen crack#jujustu kaisen gojo#jujustu kaisen gojo Satoru#jjk#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk gojo#jjk gojo Satoru#gojo Satoru#gojo Satoru x reader#gojo Satoru x y/n#gojo Satoru x you#gojo Satoru x yn#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x yn#gojo x y/n#fluff#jjk fanfic#jujustu kaisen fanfic
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Champagne Coast, JOE BURROW.
“Finishing 8 or 9, tell me what’s the perfect time. I told you i’ll be waiting hiding from the rainfall.”



◦pairing: ¡long hair!joe x ¡college student!reader
◦summary: fwb, no attachment relationship, attachment problems, forbidden type of love. +18 readers only!
◦description: academic pleasure is your thing, and that means that you put nothing over your education. literally nothing. but when a long-haired football player that just got transferred from the north just pops in front of you, it’s too hard to say no to him.
◦n/a: i’m doing this for my latina girlies (like me! <3). she has curly hair and slightly tanned skin.
Mornings were always the hardest.
Not because I wasn’t a morning person—I was, to some extent—but because they reminded me of how much I had to do and how little time I had to waste.
My alarm went off at 6:30 a.m. sharp, vibrating against the nightstand with a persistence I could never ignore. I didn’t allow myself to hit snooze. I couldn’t afford to. Instead, I threw the covers off, stretched until my spine cracked, and made my way to the tiny bathroom in my apartment, eyes barely open as I turned on the sink.
The mirror reflected my exhaustion back at me. Dark circles had made a home under my eyes, the evidence of another night spent hunched over my laptop, working through notes, assignments, and emails.
I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and tied my hair back into a loose ponytail before heading to the kitchen. Breakfast was always a rushed affair—black coffee, a piece of toast if I wasn’t running late. Today, I had just enough time to spread some butter over it and let the warmth seep into my fingertips before taking a bite.
As I stood there, leaning against the counter, I flipped open my planner, its pages filled with neatly written notes, deadlines, and reminders. Between classes, assignments, and shifts at my internship, every minute of my day was accounted for.
But today felt different.
Excitement buzzed under my skin as my eyes skimmed over a note I had scribbled down the night before: New project meeting – 2 PM.
My internship had been one of the best things about this year. It was demanding, sure, but it gave me a sense of purpose. The chance to work on something real, something tangible. And today, I was finally getting assigned to a project I had been hoping for.
I double-checked the details, making a mental note to grab an extra coffee before the meeting. If I was going to impress them, I needed to be on my A-game.
After slipping into a pair of jeans and pulling on a navy-blue sweater, I slung my bag over my shoulder and stepped outside. The crisp morning air bit at my cheeks, the sky a soft, muted blue, but I barely had time to appreciate it. My days ran on a tight schedule, and I had no room to fall behind.
The walk to campus was second nature by now. I moved on autopilot, weaving through streets and past coffee shops, my earbuds in, music humming softly as I mentally prepared myself for the day ahead.
By the time I made it to the library, my coffee was already half gone, but the caffeine was finally kicking in. I settled into a seat by the window, pulling out my laptop and opening the file I had started last night. I had about an hour before my first class—plenty of time to go over my notes, make sure I hadn’t missed anything.
This was my routine.
And I liked it this way, but today, my friends had another plan. Rachel and Nathan have been keeping me busy about every single gossip on this campus, and the new one was The transferred quarterback from Ohio State. And of course, the whole campus needed to celebrate.
I wasn’t planning on going to the party that night. It was the kind of LSU house party that smelled like cheap beer and desperation, packed with sweaty, screaming students all trying to forget their midterms or bad decisions. But my roommate, Rachel, had another plan.
A few hours earlier, I had been sitting in my psychology class, half-listening as the professor droned on about the power of love in humanity. It was some philosophical tangent about how emotions, particularly love, played a crucial role in human development and scientific progress. I struggled not to roll my eyes. Love, to me, had always been a concept romanticized beyond its worth. Sure, it made for great literature, but I had never been convinced that it held any real power beyond that.
When class finally ended, I packed up my things and headed to the campus diner, where Rachel and a few other friends were already gathered in a booth, their laughter rising above the chatter of the busy place. Jess, my best guy friend Nate, and his roommate Lucas were already deep in conversation when I slid into the seat beside Rachel, who immediately pushed a menu toward me.
"Are you actually eating or just here to mope about your long, miserable week?" she teased.
"Neither," I replied, scanning the menu without interest. "I just need a drink."
"That’s the spirit!" Jess cheered, raising her iced coffee like it was something stronger.
"So, you’re coming to the party tonight?" Lucas asked, drumming his fingers against the table.
I sighed. "Yeah, but I’m not really in the mood for it. I just need to blow off some steam."
"That’s what parties are for," Rachel said. "Besides, have you heard about the new transfer? Joe Burrow?"
Jess wiggled her eyebrows. "Apparently, he’s not just good. He’s supposed to be the guy. Like, NFL material."
Nate scoffed, leaning back against the booth. "Everyone’s acting like he’s a god or something. He’s just another quarterback."
I shrugged, uninterested. "I’m sure he’s good at what he does, but that doesn’t mean he’s obnoxious."
Rachel smirked. "So, you’re saying he’s just a great professional player who happens to be really good?"
"Pretty much. I don’t get why everyone acts like he’s the second coming or something."
"Because he might actually be," Jess said with a dramatic sigh. "And you, my dear, are going to meet him tonight."
Nate chuckled. "Yeah, maybe you two can talk about quantum physics and see if he can keep up."
I rolled my eyes, but I knew there was no escaping it now. The party was happening, and whether I liked it or not, Joe Burrow was about to become part of my night.
[…]
I got to the party slightly late. My friends were already over there, bouncing over songs that we used to listen to together and talking louder above the speakers. To me, that was irritating. I love parties, but after a long week of work, the last thing I wanted to do is partying all night on a friday.
The music thumped through the walls, a steady, pulsing beat that rattled through my ribs as I wove through the crowd, my plastic cup clutched loosely in my fingers. I wasn’t even sure what was in it anymore—some neon-colored mix of whatever they had at the bar—but I had taken exactly two sips and decided I didn’t need more.
I was about to turn around when a voice cut through the noise.
“You’ve been standing there for a while.”
I looked up.
I turned, expecting one of my friends, but instead, I was met with someone unfamiliar. He was tall—really tall—with messy blond hair that fell over his forehead, and sharp features that the dim lighting only made more defined. His sweatshirt hung loose on his frame, sleeves pushed to his elbows like he had just come from somewhere else, and the cup in his hand was barely touched.
“I was just—” I hesitated, glancing at the dance floor. “People-watching.”
A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Yeah? Anything interesting?”
“Not really,” I admitted. “Just the usual: drunk freshmen, a couple making out in the corner, a guy who’s definitely going to regret that keg stand tomorrow.”
"You don’t look like you’re having fun," he said, his voice cutting through the noise of the party.
I raised a brow. “And you’ve been watching me?”
He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “I just noticed. Everyone else is either dancing, drinking, or trying to do both at the same time. You, though? You’re just… here.”
I huffed, half amused. “I guess I’m not very good at parties.”
He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Nothing wrong with that.”
I turned my head, surprised he was talking to me. "That’s because I’m not."
He smirked. "Then why are you here?"
"Peer pressure."
"Same."
I looked at him, doubtful. "I find that hard to believe. Isn’t this your crowd?"
He shook his head. "Not really. I’m still figuring out who my crowd is here."
I hummed in response, not sure I believed him. He was too comfortable, too effortless in the way he carried himself.
"What’s your major?" he asked.
"Psychology," I replied. "And you?"
"Consumer and family financial services.”
I raised a brow. "That’s oddly specific."
He chuckled. "Yeah. I like numbers."
"So, you’re actually smart?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.
“But I’m here cause of football.”
I raised a brow. “Of course, you do.”
He chuckled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I shrugged. “You have that whole… football player look.”
He looked vaguely amused. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Not necessarily.” I took a sip of my drink. “I just feel like I already know your whole deal.”
Joe leaned in slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Yeah? And what’s my deal?”
I pretended to think. “Cocky, thinks he’s smarter than he is, probably way too competitive.”
“You don’t know me at all. He laughed, a deep, genuine sound that made something flicker in my chest. He stepped closer, but at a safe distance "I like to think I'm smart. Want to test me?"
I leaned against the counter, intrigued. "Alright, what’s the capital of Lithuania?"
"Vilnius."
I blinked, impressed but unwilling to show it. "Okay, what’s the powerhouse of the cell?"
"Mitochondria. Come on, give me a hard one."
I bit my lip, thinking. "Fine. Who wrote ‘Pride and Prejudice’?"
He didn’t even hesitate. "Jane Austen."
My mouth parted slightly. "Huh."
He grinned. "Not what you expected?"
"Not even close."
He tilted his head, studying me. His blue eyes went all over me, starting at my face and getting down all over my body. "What about me gave you the impression I wasn’t smart?"
I hesitated, but he was looking at me with genuine curiosity. "The hoodie, the wristbands, the fact that this house is a frat-football house. And, no offense, but most guys like you care more about throwing balls than reading books."
He let out a breathy laugh. "Fair enough. But I promise you, I’m more than that."
I found myself wanting to believe him.
“Oh, I bet.”
The night stretched on, and we kept talking. The party faded into the background. He told me about growing up in Ohio, about transferring to LSU for a fresh start. I told him about my dream of being a psychologist, working with kids was my whole goal.
At some point, we ended up outside on the porch, sitting on the steps as the humid Louisiana night wrapped around us. I hadn’t realized how much time had passed until my phone buzzed with a text from Rachel: "Where r u???"
I looked at him, his hair messy from the night, his blue eyes watching me like I was the most interesting thing in the world.
"I should go," I said reluctantly.
He nodded, but there was something in his expression that made my pulse skip. "I’ll see you around?
I hesitated, then smiled. "Yeah. See you around."
As I walked away, I felt his gaze linger. And for the first time in a long time, I wondered if maybe, just maybe, I had been wrong about people like him.
[…]
The city buzzed with the hum of conversation and the scent of freshly brewed coffee as we walked the familiar route to our usual spot. The sun had begun its slow descent, painting the sky in warm hues of orange and pink. It was the kind of late afternoon that felt like a soft exhale after a long day, the air thick with the scent of summer and distant laughter from students scattered across the campus.
Rachel, Jess, Nate, Lucas, and I had just wrapped up another draining day—classes, internships, and the slow crawl toward graduation looming over us like a deadline we weren’t ready to meet.
"I swear, if I have to listen to one more professor drone on about case studies, I might actually drop out," Rachel groaned as she linked her arm with Jess’s.
"You say that every semester," Nate teased, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
"And yet, here I am. A survivor," Rachel shot back, flipping her hair dramatically.
I trailed slightly behind, exhaustion weighing on my shoulders. My internship at the counseling center had been particularly draining today. A few tough sessions had left me with more questions than answers, the complexities of the human mind unraveling in ways I hadn't yet learned how to piece back together.
"I don't know how you do it, Y/N," Lucas said, as if reading my mind. "Listening to people’s problems all day would drive me insane."
I smirked. "That’s kind of the point. Psychology is about understanding people, not just fixing them."
"Yeah, yeah," he waved. "Just remind me never to tell you my problems."
We finally reached the café, a cozy little corner of campus life where we had spent countless hours avoiding responsibilities. The scent of espresso and fresh pastries welcomed us as we pushed through the doors, greeted by the comforting hum of low conversation and the occasional clatter of dishes.
Sliding into our usual booth by the window, we settled in, each of us instinctively knowing our roles in the ordering process. Rachel and Jess debated over which overpriced latte to get, while Nate and Lucas argued about football stats neither of them would remember in an hour. I, meanwhile, busied myself scrolling through my phone, half-listening to their conversation.
That’s when the notification popped up.
A follow request.
Joe Burrow.
I frowned slightly, the name unfamiliar for only a second before my memory caught up. Joe Burrow, the new player. Why was he texting me like that?
And then, a message.
“Finally found you. Do you know how hard it was to track you down?"
I blinked, confused.
Then another message appeared.
"It’s Joe—the guy you thought was dumb. We met at the party last Saturday."
The guy I met at the party.
Joe Burrow, the quarterback.
The transferred dude and the new quarterback were the same person.
My stomach did a weird little flip. I had spent the entire night talking to him, intrigued by the way he had effortlessly thrown back every challenge I gave him. I had walked away thinking I’d never see him again.
And yet, here he was.
I stared at the screen, my mind racing with possibilities.
"Earth to Y/N?" Jess’s voice broke through my thoughts.
I looked up, realizing they were all staring at me.
"Who’s got you looking like you just saw a ghost?" Rachel asked, sipping her drink.
I hesitated, my fingers hovering over my phone.
"No one," I said, too quickly.
But the smirk on Rachel’s face told me she wasn’t buying it.
And truthfully? Neither was I.
I stared at my screen, my heart pounding for reasons I couldn’t explain.
And he texted me again.
"So, did I pass your intelligence test?"
#joe burrow#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow fan fic#joeburrow#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow fluff#joe burrow x reader#bengals#joe burrow smut
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Guess who is back with another absurdly long reblog? Me! Its me :)) and its so much better because im reading a fic by my bbg peachy who had such an entrapping writing style that i cannot seem to pull myself away from and just get lost in.
I want to start this by saying i love this idea so much im such a sucker for soulmate aus in any form but this one is just wrapped up so nicely in pain and angst and i just couldnt be happier to be putting myself through this slowburn because its burning and im nearly as masochistic as reader for putting myself through this is the best way possible. Like ‘all of it plunged you into what was probably the darkest period of your life, making you realize how truly ugly your bond was, because it was either an endless cycle of intensifying pain—feeding off your soulmate’s suffering and giving it right back to them until it returned to you—or nothing at all. and when you woke up empty, feeling nothing foreign that had become an important part of you over the years, it was as if you had lost the constant touch of a lover. even if that touch had only ever caused pain, you still tried to get it back.’ im rolling around the floor right now because im just so in love with this concept and how much they crave the pain because its all they have known to love about the person they have never met but are bound to- like pls pls pls pls pls i love them-
the faint touch of guitar strings on the tips of your fingers had become cruel, invisible marks and calluses, awakening a habit of scratching the pads of your fingers with your nails, trying to get rid of the sensation. the habit stayed—but because you missed the way it felt now. How am I to sit here and be normal when all i can think about is how they have to go about their day feeling the other without knowing them and just loving this pain and missing it? No i cant be normal bc i love it too much-
it felt like you had known him your whole life but had just forgotten. And if i cried? If even just a little tear fell? Because i wanna just let them fall bc damn my heart- niiiinnnnnaaa you did this to me fix me- and you have bc i love the silly little banter and inside jokes littered throughout this- i actually find myself giggling and smiling over their interactions like its so serious to me- and also yeonjun asking about the cross stitching like ugh i love it just like the guitar thing its so simple and yet its not it not.
I love it like this- you felt… weird. it was a long-forgotten feeling, so you didn’t recognize it at first, but you felt like a child whose best friend's parents had come to pick them up from kindergarten, so not only you were left without your best friend, but alone in general, because the other children had already left, and you were left to wait for your own parents. longing and disappointment were a bit too strong of words for that, but it felt like them, in that childish way. Ugh just i love this and their feelings i love their feelings feel more actually so i can sit and sob no biggie-
and moment of silence for my sanity at this the pain caused by him was delicious. it reminded you of caramel—his touches were drawn-out, hot and so, so sweet. no pleasure had ever come close to the sweetness of the pain he was inflicting upon you—he took his time, making you savour everything he was giving you and crave more. it felt like he was everywhere, coating every inch of your body; pain, just like honey, glazing every nerve—you could feel him tugging your hair, fist firm against the back of your head, could feel his fingertips sinking into the flesh of your thighs, craving to leave marks on you—you prayed they did—and his nails digging into your skin as he ran his hand down, leaving trails along your legs—just as burning and sweet as melted chocolate. his fingers around your neck felt like the only necklace you would ever want to wear from now on—hand firm, warm and sweet too. Yeah i've lost my mind because i love your writing soooooo much pls im eating this up like its not even funny-
he started losing himself in the fantasy, much more dangerous than the one he had dreamed about, but he was in too deep to stop, because you—the one from the dream—was her. the one he had craved so much but had buried deep inside, down to the last thought. the one who wanted everything he wanted to give and could give—in exact same amounts. just perfect for him down to the smallest whimpers of pleasure found in the pain he gave you. NNIIIINNNNAAA IM SENDING THE BILL FOR MY THERAPY-
i've lost my mind and it only gets better wtf because this fic had sick comfort my favorite and im just so happy i could cry because oh to be taken care of by yeonjun where you're delirious with a fever- ugh im so excited to start part two i swear it's insane like this set up is just so perfect im ready im more than ready im insane and i have only peachy and maybe yeonjun to blame- ill be back with more reblogs as i keep on reading but ugh yeah im done let me get off here before i just copy paste the whole fic into the reblog like a psycho <333
₊ ˚ ⊹ ♡ . ⠀wild roses | chapter 1 ; the roots
⠀⠀⠀neighbour!yeonjun x fem!reader
♡ you're here ♡ | to chapter 2 →
genre ; soulmate au, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, humour, smut wordcount ; 17.5k
warnings | tags ; unhealthy relationship with pain [mentions of self-inflicted pain]; yeonjun does some kinda questionable stuff; a bit of self-hate and self-pity.
smut warnings ; dom + soft sadist yeonjun x sub + soft masochist reader. wet dreams, heavily based on pain kink [choking, marking, spanking and so on]; male masturbation.
✉ notes ; oh wow... my first collaboration event ever and it was AWESOME. the idea was just incredible and i'm honoured to be a part of the event and write for the idea. i want to thank each one of beautiful talented moa who took part in the event, please-please-please, read other event fics, all of them are wonderful
i got a tiny bit carried away, so there are going to be two more parts. that just... happened. i was possesed
⠀⠀⠀[ event masterlist | my masterlist | wild roses masterlist ]
it felt like a cruel joke of fate, destiny, the universe or whatever force might be pulling the strings of your life. you were sure you could post an advertisement for your services—“spend a few days with me and find your soulmate. 100% guarantee”, because yet another one of your colleagues had returned from her vacation particularly glowing—she had met her, her soulmate, the one she had been waiting for her whole life.
she couldn't keep quiet about it, and you couldn't blame her, despite the tiny, bitter part of your mind whispering that you were a lucky charm for everyone else, leaving yourself with nothing but emptiness and heartbreak. you'd only been working here for a year, and four of your colleagues had found their soulmates before your very eyes—five, including the one who had announced it today—and each time, the quiet whispers of pity behind your back only grew louder. of course, you heard the hushed “shh, don't be so loud” that meant to show care—you had stopped paying attention to it long ago.
the bond you had once shared with your soulmate was a complicated one, tangled in endless conditions and rules, most of them uncertain, suspended between truth and myth. it had already felt impossible to navigate it, while you still had it, but now, when it was broken for years, finding them felt like a distant dream. you weren't even sure if they were still alive, if you were being honest, but thinking about it unsettled you to the point of near-physical pain, so you chose not to think about them at all.
your mind sometimes thought differently, though, keeping you awake until early morning and haunting you with visions of you staying alone until your last days. on those days you’d find yourself deleting your browser history in shame and embarrassment on your way to work—“would you know if your soulmate had died”, “is it possible to get another soulmate”, “is it possible to have more than one soulmate”, “wild rose bond”. you hated those nights and the days that followed, because your brain wouldn't stop overanalyzing everything you'd read, twisting every possibility into something even more unbearable—hope.
but more than anything, you feared returning to the dark months after you had felt your soulmate for the last time. looking back, you wondered if their heartbreak had somehow resonated with your own—the one that had started just a few hours before. you had felt a faint sensation of nails dragging down your back from your shoulder blades, as if someone was scratching at your skin with their nails, but it wasn't your back, it was their back. you had thought you were devastated then, but a few hours later, when the real weight of it hit, you felt like you couldn't breathe anymore, and it wasn't your pain.
all of it plunged you into what was probably the darkest period of your life, making you realize how truly ugly your bond was, because it was either an endless cycle of intensifying pain—feeding off your soulmate’s suffering and giving it right back to them until it returned to you—or nothing at all. and when you woke up empty, feeling nothing foreign that had become an important part of you over the years, it was as if you had lost the constant touch of a lover. even if that touch had only ever caused pain, you still tried to get it back.
you didn't know if you were trying to get your soulmate to respond to you, or if, in some twisted way, you were just to mimic the pain they had once caused you—desperate for anything that might keep you from feeling so utterly alone. but it never worked—they never replied and you never felt any relief.
and now you felt yourself slowly sinking into that darkness again—the more happy stories told behind your back you heard, the stronger the itch in your fingers became. what if—just a tiny what if—they would reply to you if you pinched your arm just a little? what if they pinched back? what if you could finally do something you had wished for years you had done earlier—agree to meet somewhere through morse code? the sickening feeling of hope was so much worse than that mutual heartbreak had ever been.
you shook your head—no. the “unbreakable bond” that was supposed to never fade—not by time, not even by death—was broken, and the was nothing you could do about it. maybe some people were simply meant to stay alone, and maybe you were one of them. so what? surely, you weren't the only unlucky one like that, there was no way everyone in this world had a person they were destined to live and die with. after all, you could be your own soulmate—at least that bond would never shatter.
the overly confident thoughts, which felt more like bravado than anything sincere even to you, took up all your attention, and you reached out for your coffee cup, completely forgetting it was still too hot. the burn on the pads of your fingers made you wince, a quiet "shit" slipping past your lips—all these existential crisis thoughts, that were creeping in more and more often recently, were making you a bit too careless, and that was a dangerous match to the way you were starting to perceive pain. again.
“you okay?”
you looked up at soobin—another one of your colleagues, but not annoying one— and pressed your lips into a thin line. “i’m fine. please don’t join them in looking at me like i need pity, i beg you.”
he smiled and shook his head. “wasn’t going to. you’re overthinking it, you know?” he glanced over your shoulder at the suddenly quiet, happy circle before returning his gaze to you. “well… you’re overthinking my behavior, i guess…”
you sighed—of course. “they’re looking, aren’t they?” he replied with a tiny nod, making you bury your face in your hands. “with pity?” you mumbled, your words muffled.
“yeah…” he admitted, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. he wasn’t one to enjoy much attention, but sitting across from you left him no choice when their conversations inevitably turned to soulmates. “hey,” he tried to get your attention, holding out his paper cup to you over both of your monitors. “it’s the same as yours, but not as hot anymore. haven’t drunk it either.”
the man was a savior sometimes. you took his cup, giving him yours. “thanks. what would i do without you?”
“drown in pity gazes and whispers?”
you laughed. “most probably.”
he smiled at you, glad that your face was no longer painted with ridiculously funny determination he knew you faked—trying to make yourself believe it—and got back to work, mirroring you.
but you had trouble focusing on your work anyway, and the worst part was your boss, who kept throwing worried glances at you whenever he passed by—it felt like a few more found soulmates in your branch, and he'd start asking if you wanted to take a day off or work from home for a few days whenever someone said. after all, whenever someone announced—because it was impossible to keep it inside—that they had found their soulmate, he always reacted the same way.
you already had the ick from the word—soulmates this, soulmates that. all those “don't worry, you're still young” reassurances coming from people you had met maybe three times in your life while making yourself a coffee in the office kitchen. it wasn't even about your age—though there were countless depressing myths about soulmates and age, especially when it came to wild roses—it was about the nature of the bond itself that made people pity you.
you had no idea why in the world they cared about their colleague—nothing more!—finding or not finding their soulmate. and worse, you'd never told anyone about your lack of one, nor about what kind of bond you had. yet, somehow, someone must have seen your mark—which wasn't too hard to notice, but the situation had to be very specific for anyone to actually see it—and now people knew about it before they had even met you, the rumours about you entering the room first.
as if that wasn’t bad enough, at some point, they started matchmaking you with any soulmate-less new colleague. you were still sure those glances at you interacting with soobin meant something, just because he didn’t have a soulmate either. it was funny how they barely cared that he wasn't a wild rose—and you didn't even question how they never seemed to care about what the two of you actually thought of it, just being two introverts in an office full of extroverts.
but soobin was nice enough not to care about it and was basically the only person here you talked to about something other than work, and you were thankful he was there for you without trying to assure you that you were still young and that your soulmate was still out there somewhere. he knew everything that had happened around your bond and understood that wild roses didn’t have it easy, so he never bothered you by feeding the hope you kept buried deep inside.
“you know…” soobin started while you two were packing up to go home—you both started your workdays half an hour later than everyone else, meaning you stayed half an hour after everyone left, which was basically the reason for shifting your work hours in the first place. “i haven’t met my soulmate either, and…”
you shook your head, giving him that ‘are you serious?’ look. “soob, don’t start. you haven’t met them because you either work or play league.”
soobin laughed, nodding. “you’re right. but i just wanted to say that soulmate or no soulmate, it doesn’t define you—or anyone—as a person,” he smiled reassuringly, grabbing both of your jackets and handing you yours. “you’re perfectly complete without someone who was chosen for you by something unknown.”
you nodded, biting your lip and fidgeting with the pull on your jacket. he always knew what to say, and it was always sincere—probably, because he was in the same situation as you, but with a completely different perspective on it. soobin seemed much more mature than you could even hope to be. no—you pushed these thoughts away. you weren’t going to pity yourself. he was right—it made no sense.
“thanks, soob. you always know the right words.”
he smiled. “i could say i’ve been there, but i think they bother me much less about not having a soulmate,” he scratched the back of his head in thought. “male advantage?” he assumed, and you both laughed—maybe it really was male advantage. “keep you company on your way home?”
you shook your head, checking the time. “you won’t be home by seven if you do,” you patted his shoulder, and he tilted his head in question. “it’s thursday. your league-i-promise-she-is-just-a-friend will be waiting for you,” you sing-songed, making him press his lips together in an attempt to hide his smile—a failing attempt—and you couldn’t help but mirror it.
soobin opened his mouth to tell you something, but it seemed like every thought he had about his “just friend” only made his smile grow bigger and harder to hide, so in the end he just shook his head with a shy but obviously happy smile. “okay. you sure you'll be fine?”
you nodded, giving him a quick goodbye hug. “completely. be safe too. and don't stay up too late!” you waved before turning around. soobin was a nice guy and deserved all the happiness in the world—you hoped things with his “just friend” would work out, whether she was his soulmate or not.
still, your head felt like a too-crowded beehive, a dozen thoughts overlapping each other, refusing to let you focus on any of them before stealing your attention away to another. you had a bond when you were younger. yes, now it was a distant memory that felt more like a dream—you weren’t even sure you would recall how it felt to experience someone else’s pain or discomfort, but you refused to believe you’d been imagining it for almost ten years of your life, ever since you first understood that some feelings weren’t caused by yourself.
and that connection… it was supposed to be unbreakable, because it was one of the strongest bonds between soulmates—it was based on pain. you could never stop experiencing it, even if it happened rarely, you would still burn your tongue on tea from time to time or hit your elbow in just that spot, and your soulmate would feel it, just as you would feel their pain—there was no way to break it. that’s what you thought, at least—before it was broken.
these thoughts kept looping in your head, all the information you had read about the bond between wild roses throughout your life swirling in your mind, as if you hadn’t already gone over it hundreds of times, trying to find something you had overlooked—something that could solve the problem you had. but that kind of connection was surrounded by chaos of myths, assumptions, and lies from people pretending to be wild roses. you could never know what was true unless you experienced it yourself and, preferably, discussed it with the other end of the bond.
and you weren’t even sure of what you had gone through yourself, because you had no idea what your soulmate had done for you to mirror their pain more intensely. it was believed that the strength of the pain you felt from your soulmate grew with distance, and you assumed that, a few years before the heartbreak and the breaking of your connection, they had moved far away from where you were—probably another side of the world. the faint touch of guitar strings on the tips of your fingers had become cruel, invisible marks and calluses, awakening a habit of scratching the pads of your fingers with your nails, trying to get rid of the sensation. the habit stayed—but because you missed the way it felt now.
the quiet ding of the elevator pulled you out of your thoughts, even through your earbuds. you opened the case, carefully placing each one inside while waiting for the doors to open, and your soul almost left your body when they did, hand flying to your chest to calm your racing heart—a man was sitting on the floor, headphones on his head, too immersed in something on his phone to notice you.
you knew the man—he was your neighbour, but you had never really talked to him, so you weren’t exactly sure how to get his attention, especially since he was wearing headphones. so you stood in front of him like a complete weirdo, looking down at him, your brain still not fully functioning after a busy workday that was made worse by your overthinking.
but you didn’t have to do anything—he noticed you almost immediately, looking up and quickly standing, pushing his headphones down to his neck. “oh! hey. don’t be freaked out, please,” he said, holding out his hand for a handshake. you hesitantly took it, shaking uncertainly—his hand felt… nice. “i’m your neighbour from—”
“apartment 139, yeah…,” you finished for him slowly, your hand still in his, now just held. “just across the hall. i see you sometimes, but you never greet back, always wearing headphones,” you shrugged—it wasn’t a big deal. he never seemed rude, more like he was always in his head, his hands and head making little weird moves, so you assumed he was dancing to the music in his headphones, the outside world forgotten.
“oh…” he pulled his hand away and ran his fingers through his hair. “i’m sorry. i tend to get too into my work sometimes, not noticing anything or anyone around.”
you shrugged again, pulling your keys from your pocket, the bunch of keychains jingling softly. “it’s fine. just be careful on the streets. sometimes drivers are…” you scrunched your nose, and he chuckled. “reckless? some make me wonder if anyone can just go and buy a driver’s license now, without even graduating from elementary school, where they give you basic knowledge on traffic rules.”
he looked at you with an amused smile, and you mentally slapped yourself—it was your first conversation, and you were already burdening him with the grumpiness of a ninety-year-old lady no one liked. no wonder your soulmate had broken the bond even before meeting you, the thought made you smile mentally despite how bitter it actually was—it was a good joke. you made a note to repeat it to soobin tomorrow when telling him about encountering your neighbour.
but he only laughed, nodding a few times. “i see where you’re coming from. you can never be too careful when it comes to traffic,” he adjusted his headphones, turning them to rest on his collarbones with the ear pads facing in, and your gaze fell to the bare skin of his upper chest for a brief moment, making you involuntarily touch the tight collar of your t-shirt.
“so…” you fidgeted with the strap of your bag nervously—small talk was nice and, dare you to say, comfortable, especially considering you'd never talked to him before, but he couldn't be sitting here for no reason, could he? “what happened?.. i mean, why were you sitting here?”
“oh! right,” he cleared throat. “i lost my keys. i was going to call for locksmith services, but i don't want to lockpick the door to the corridor,” he paused, because it suddenly started sounding stupid, but shook his head—too late to rethink it now. “so i was waiting for someone to open it.”
you nodded a few times, and he let out a breath—at least you weren't looking at him like he was a complete idiot, and he certainly felt like one. you simply took the key and opened the door to the corridor, letting him in before locking it behind you—he thought that he probably should've been nicer to you instead of just giving a tiny nod as a greeting once every few weeks, which, as it turned out, you didn’t even notice.
he dialed the locksmith service, throwing glances at you as you unlocked your door. he noticed you pause, your key still in the lock, fingers rubbing it nervously as you stared at it, seemingly lost in thought. he wanted to ask you if everything was okay, but the moment he opened his mouth, a man on the other end of the phone line introduced himself and asked how he could help.
you glanced at your neighbour as he turned away, still on his phone, his hand rubbing the back of his head. eavesdropping wasn’t good, but you wondered—if the locksmith was going to take some time to arrive, maybe he’d need a place to wait? you could invite him in… he seemed like a nice person, so— you shook your head, he’d probably prefer to wait at the convenience store across the street. with that, you pulled the key out and opened the door.
“at least half an hour?” he asked, checking the watch before chuckled. “of course. not like i have any other choice,” he listened to whatever the person on the other end was saying before nodding. “yes, five minutes is fine. thank you,” the ‘beep’ of the ended call was almost loud in the empty corridor as he turned to look at you, still standing by your ajar door. “thank you. really,” he smiled warmly. “i’m yeonjun, by the way. it was nice to meet you.”
“[ yn ]...” you replied quietly, still debating whether you should invite him in—half an hour seemed long, but then again, sometimes waiting for an elevator to arrive could take five whole minutes. if he was unlucky, he’d only have time to buy something at the convenience store before having to come right back. no, you thought. don’t be stupid. “it was nice to meet you too,” you almost shut your front door when you realized how much of an idiot you were—just a few minutes ago you basically locked him in the corridor. “wait.”
“huh?” yeonjun looked up from his phone, confused. ‘wait’ for what?.. not like he had anywhere to go right now.
you grabbed the spare key to the corridor door from the key rack and walked up to him, holding it out. “here. you lost yours, and i have a spare one, so you can take it,” you felt so stupid, but it was too late to back out now. “for now or til you get a new one or… or you can keep it,” you finished quietly, each word sounding worse than the last.
yeonjun smiled and shook his head. “i have another one at home, don’t worry. i won’t need it until then anyway, i was going to wait here.”
you pressed your lips together, cheeks burning, before asking quietly. “how would a locksmith get inside here?..”
yeonjun froze. he hadn’t thought about it at all. it was almost funny—how he, the one who had that confident, almost intimidating aura, had somehow managed to make himself look like a complete idiot in front of his nice neighbour. not only had he lost his keys, but he also couldn’t think thirty minutes ahead. usually, he didn’t care much about what people thought of him, but he still expected himself to feel ashamed now. but he wasn’t. somehow, it felt like you wouldn’t see him that way—probably because you were just as awkward.
he took the key from your hand, the little rose keychain getting his attention, as its tiny silver thorns nestled against his skin. yeonjun looked up at you, puzzled—a rose keychain wasn’t strange on its own, he had seen countless of them, but most didn’t have a stem, let alone thorns. he felt his heart skip a beat—the small silver trinket reminded him of a part of himself that he tried to ignore. you only shook your head, though, clearly telling him to not pay any attention to it. but he still didn’t like coincidences like that one.
you nodded goodbye to him one more time and had already turned away before pausing and biting your lip. “look,” you said before you could stop yourself, turning back to face him. the worst thing that could happen? he would decline, and things between you two would get awkward. but—if you were honest—what things? there were no ‘things’ between you two. you took a deep breath. “you can wait for the locksmith at my place, if you want. it’s warm, and you wouldn’t have to sit on the floor or stand for half an hour. if you want.”
it was inviting. it sounded really nice, actually. yeonjun already felt like his butt was as flat as the floor he’d been sitting on for an hour before you appeared and saved him from what he jokingly thought of as flat-butt disease. but you had just met—neighbours or not—and even though he knew he had no ill intentions, he wasn’t sure you felt the same way. making you feel uncomfortable or, worse, unsafe in your own home was the last thing he wanted. “are you sure it'd be fine? we just learned each other's names a few minutes ago.”
“well…” you frowned and tilted your head—what kind of things was he thinking about? “yes?.. i mean, do you have any… bad intentions?”
yeonjun was taken aback by your question. “um, no?” oh god, pull yourself together, yeonjun! why do you sound so unsure? he cleared his throat and repeated more firmly. “of course, not. but… is that it? you're just going to believe my ‘no’ and let me in?”
you took a few steps toward your door, glad to see him following you. “yep?.. do you really think maniacs would ask in the first place?” you asked him, opening the door and stepping aside to let him in.
yeonjun glanced at you, narrowing his eyes. “do you really think maniacs would just say ‘yeah, of course, i have all the bad intentions in the world’? it sounds…” he tapped his chin, pretending to think. “naïve?”
“yeah? then why would you put these thoughts into my head? sounds like you’re giving me a lesson on how to spot a maniac,” you said, hanging your jacket on the coat rack and pointing at the free hook next to it. yeonjun immediately got the hint and hung his jacket there too, without letting either of you get distracted from the conversation. “so—” you glanced down at his shoes. “i can give you slippers, if you want. brand new. still unpacked even,” you added, waiting for his nod and little ‘thanks’ before continuing. “so. why would one of them do it? give me a lesson on it, i mean.”
yeonjun let out an exaggerated, dramatic sigh. “to lull your vigilance, of course. to make you ask yourself exactly that question and come up with an answer that it doesn't make any sense for a maniac to explain things like that, so it can only mean that this person isn't one,” he ‘explained’, waiting for you to take your shoes off and walk further into the apartment before crouching down to untie his sneakers—he didn’t want to risk making you feel uncomfortable, like he was looking up your skirt.
“ah, really?” you held the slippers out to him. “why would you—or maniac—tell me that, then? why give further explanation?” you asked, waiting for him to put the slippers on and grab his bag before leading him toward the kitchen. you were enjoying this conversation a lot. maybe even a bit too much, but who cared? “no, no, no, let me answer it myself. to lull my vigilance?”
“exactly!” yeonjun sat down on the bar stool, his smile wide—not because you got something ‘right’ in that silly little banter, but because it felt so comfortable. he couldn't believe you two had never talked before, given how easy it seemed for both of you. “the same thing, but a bit more layered.”
“wow, you seem like a really thought-out maniac, yeonjun. just piling on layers to lull my vigilance,” you sighed in exaggerated awe, pressing a hand to your chest with a little bow of your head. “it's an honour.”
“well,” he shrugged nonchalantly, straightening his back in mock pride. “just doing my best at everything, you know?”
you let out a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. he was… cute. funny too, and so easy to talk to—it felt like you had known him your whole life but had just forgotten. it wasn't unusual for you to get loud or talkative, but you usually needed more time to get used to someone before feeling comfortable enough to do so—much more time. but it wasn't like that with yeonjun; he made you feel at ease around him almost immediately. you assumed it was his confident aura that didn't waver even when he was being playful or silly. that level of confidence, unspoiled by arrogance, was truly admirable.
you bit your lip, though—you weren't sure how to reply, but you gaze fell on the coffee machine. “do you want something to drink, by the way?..” you asked, washing your hands in the kitchen sink. “i don't actually have too many bottled drinks, but i have a coffee machine, ice and a bunch of syrups, or i can make you tea.”
it actually sounded tempting. yeonjun still had a bit of his coffee when he left the elevator on this floor and realized he had lost his keys, but that was long gone. he hadn’t risked leaving the spot to buy something to drink, afraid someone would come home while he was away, so now he was pretty much thirsty. but he wasn’t sure if he preferred burdening you over just waiting for half an hour, so he shook his head.
“no, thank you. but… do you mind if i wash my hands?” yeonjun asked, getting up and rubbing his palms on his jeans. and then what? what was he going to do when he came back after washing his hands? he wasn't socially awkward, but staying with a barely-not-a-stranger in a small space with no one else around—and no alcohol to loosen the atmosphere? he should've just agreed to the coffee to make things a bit less awkward for both of you—he doubted you'd eat or drink something while he was just sitting there. was it too late to say he'd changed his mind?
“oh! kitchen sink or…” you walked out of the kitchen and he followed you, standing next to the kitchen door in the hall. you pointed at a door. “the bathroom is the only door to the right. a small gray towel on the towel rail is for hands, and…” you turned your head to look at him, still leaning on the door frame with the front of your shoulder. “i can bring you another towel if you want to rinse your face or anything. it was washed and dried that morning, so you can be sure it wasn't used.”
yeonjun blinked a few times, looking at you, his mind completely blank—he couldn't even find the words to describe how… adorably weird everything you were doing and saying was. why would you ask him if he wanted to wash his face? it was fine and clean—he had checked in the mirror by the door when he entered out of habit—but you were still unbelievably nice, offering another towel in case he wanted to do it. it felt like the thoughts in your head were completely random, yet it was interesting that you weren't afraid to say them out loud.
“no, thanks. just hands,” yeonjun said, giving you a small smile before following the direction you had pointed to.
you watched him shut the door before turning back to the kitchen—it wasn't that you felt like you had to keep an eye on him, making sure he didn't wander somewhere he wasn’t supposed to, it was just somehow he already occupied your thoughts, and you only snapped out of it when he disappeared behind the door. but as you sat at the bar table, your overthinking started again. everything was… weird. good, but still weird. you’d never met someone you clicked with this quickly, and it felt almost… suspicious.
you threw a glance toward the bathroom as if you could see through walls, before shaking your head—you had been overthinking too much lately. if you were honest, you always did. maybe it was time to stop thinking and just… be? just accept that you had met someone you felt comfortable with immediately, without questioning it? making new friends—ever heard of it? you thought. yep. it was time to just live your life without looking back at any soulmate issues—past, present, or future.
yeonjun found you with a strangely determined expression on your face and chuckled to himself. he liked that you were like an ajar book—not fully open yet, but easy enough for him to read at least your basic emotion, and it also seemed like you weren’t trying too hard to hide them either. he thought that maybe he should be just as honest.
he cleared his throat, getting your attention. “i know i said no,” he started when you looked up at him, all your focus on him immediately, “but i think i’d actually like something to drink,” yeonjun admitted, watching you standing up immediately to start preparing something, but he was quick to reassure you. “water would be fine, though.”
you paused, hand on the cupboard, looking at him. “water would be ‘fine’ or ‘preferred’?..” you asked, unsure if it sounded too blunt—you didn’t want to sound pushy or impolite, but you could make him something specific, if he wanted. it wasn’t a problem.
yeonjun hesitated, but admitted nevertheless. “to be honest, i wouldn't say no to some tea. i guess it's a bit too late for an americano,” he smiled warmly, sitting back where he was sitting before, his eyes following your movements.
he was surprised to see how excited you got, reaching for a box on the top shelf, standing on your tiptoes, the tips of your fingers trying to grab it. he had to almost force himself to stay where he was, resisting the urge to rush over and help you—the scene inside his head immediately played out in slow motion, filmed in third-person with a random lyrical song and that weird corner-whitening effect they always used in dramas for moments like this. he cringed at the thought.
yeonjun still kept an eye on you in case you asked for help or needed it if everything started tumbling down, but you successfully won that round against heights and gravity, placing the now-open box in front of him. it was filled with different colourful foil bags—he was sure anyone would find something they liked here.
“you can choose any you want,” you said, grabbing the kettle to fill it with water the moment he nodded and started going through the box. you turned the kettle on and were about to sit back down when you suddenly realized you were still wearing your office clothes. “do you mind if i go change?..” you asked hesitantly, but yeonjun only nodded.
“of course. i promise to behave,” he lifted his hands in mock surrender, smiling—and making you smile back—before you disappeared around the corner, and he returned to choosing tea, wondering which one both of you would like.
you tried to change quickly, not wanting to make yeonjun wait, but you froze the moment your gaze fell on your reflection—the t-shirt you were about to put on still in your hands. a huge mark, resembling a thorned rose stem, stretched from your left collarbone down to your right ribs, crossing your chest in a jagged line, and stood out even in the dim light of your bedroom.
involuntarily, you pressed your fingers to the top thorn, right under your collarbone, as if expecting to feel it pierce the skin of your fingertips. it didn't, though—of course, it didn't—the skin felt the same as the rest, smooth and unbroken. if you didn't look at it, you wouldn't even realize it was there—you wished it was that way. ut no, you knew every detail of it. you knew the exact placement of each thorn, each uneven ridge in the stem. you knew where it started and where it ended. you could draw it with your eyes closed and get every millimeter right.
the way you tugged the t-shirt on was almost harsh, the tight collar scratching your nose slightly on its way down—you just wanted to hide that reminder as soon as possible, even though you knew you couldn't keep running from it forever. one day, you would have to accept it as part of you—which it was—and stop seeing it as a reminder of your broken future, misfortune, and a cruel fate. but not today. maybe, one day, your view on it would change naturally, when the way you saw soulmates did?..
but for now, you would opt for t-shirts with tight collars and turtlenecks, whenever someone else might see you. alone? crop tops and tank tops were fine—if you tried to avoid looking at the mark—but not in public, and not in front of someone you barely knew. for many other reasons too, of course.
when you entered the kitchen again, yeonjun was almost done choosing the last kind of tea—he grabbed the foil package from the box and placed it on the table next to six others. he turned to you, a bit surprised at your precise timing, and gestured toward the table. “i chose the ones i’d like to try. the final choice is yours,” he said with a smile, leaning his back on the wall and watching you.
his choices were great. at first, you thought about suggesting that each of you make tea in your own cup to avoid drinking something you didn’t like, but all seven options were good, so you could actually brew tea in the teapot for both of you.
you took two packages and placed it closer to him. “one of these. i can't choose,” you said, turning to the kitchen counter to grab the teapot and pour hot water into it, bringing it to the table along with two cups. yeonjun handed you the tea bag that he had chosen, and you dropped it into the teapot, waiting for the tea to brew.
as yeonjun busied himself putting the packages back into the box, the kitchen fell into silence. it wasn't the tense, uncomfortable kind of silence you might expect—it was a soft one, where both of you seemed to be lost in thoughts without worrying about getting silently judged for not supporting some awkward small talk. it felt like either of you could start or continue a conversation easily whenever you wanted, so there was no need in trying to fill the air with meaningless, forced words.
you were already sipping your tea, when yeonjun's voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “there’s a lot of handmade stuff,” he noted, looking at the wall to the side of you. you followed his gaze and nodded, waiting for him to continue. “a great variety too. sewing, collages, patchwork, crocheting, pressed flowers, diamond mosaic… have you done all of that?”
you nodded, taking another tiny sip—your tea was still too hot. “yep. all of these were done by me,” you said, glancing over the countless little handmade things scattered all over the wall, and it felt like you lwere looking at them from a completely different perspective than before. “but i do none of these seriously. it was… some kind of attempt to find myself,” you admitted. a failed one, you added mentally. none of these felt completely you.
“successful?” yeonjun asked, his gaze fixed on a small patchwork of a rose, the only rose work out of a dozen—it would’ve been almost cute with the pale pink flower, some parts not sewn to the canvas, giving it some volume, but, just like the keychain, this one had thorns, carefully stitched onto the dark green stem. he lifted his hand to touch them almost unintentionally, but stopped, glancing at you.
“you can touch,” you said, and he gently pressed his finger to the top thorn of the rose, making your heart skip a beat. the stem was a smaller version of the mark you had on your chest—you made it in hope it would help with accepting your hopeless soulmate situation—and it felt strange, seeing how gently and cautiously yeonjun's fingers caressed it exactly where your own fingers had been not so long ago. you shook these thoughts away, though—close stitches were just nice to touch. “but no. not successful, as you can see in variety,” you chuckled.
yeonjun hummed—your works looked neat, at least in the eyes of someone who only knew the names of some of them, so if these were some of your first works of every kind… you were impressive. “do you like roses?” he blurted out and immediately realized the question made no sense—your apartment wasn’t full of roses, he had focused on only two things just because of his own issues.
but you simply shook your head and let out a tiny, sincere laugh. “i don’t. hate them, actually,” you admitted, making him nod in acknowledgement. “i know it makes no sense that i made that one—” you threw a glance at the patchwork he had been paying so much attention to.
“no, it’s fine,” yeonjun interrupted. “i can see why you’d want to make it despite disliking roses. the picture itself is beautiful,” he said. he used to hate roses too, but he’d learned to only hate one. he caressed the length of the stem one last time, not noticing the way you swallowed thickly at his words and movements, eyes glued to his finger. he turned to you with a smile. “i have a silly question, but i assume you cross-stitched too, and i’ve always been curious about something.”
the speed with which yeonjun switched topics almost gave you whiplash, but you tried to compose yourself. “uh, yes. yes, when i was a child. not a too enjoyable activity for me, but i did.”
he tapped the pad of his finger with his nail as if imitating a needle. “do people often pierce themselves while cross-stitching?”
you tilted your head—the question wasn’t exactly weird, but it was unexpected. “i don’t think so?..” you weren’t completely sure, since you’d never really discussed it with anyone—you’d only had your own experience. “i mean, you might when you only start, but you learn to avoid it pretty quickly, and pierce your skin on accident to the point where it hurts, maybe… a few times in a few projects?”
yeonjun hummed, his thumb rubbing the pad of his pointer finger on his left hand. maybe they were just careless?.. or it wasn’t cross-stitching at all? what else could it be, then? just sewing?
you thought for a second before continuing. “but… i guess some people use their finger pad to feel the needle while piercing the fabric or canvas?..” you said, uncertain if that’s what he wanted to know or if it made any sense in general. “you know… instead of turning the canvas back and forth, you just control the needle with one finger on the back and another one in the front,” you tried to mimic the moves but it looked ridiculous. “it doesn’t really pierce the skin, but it’s technically poking your finger with a needle constantly…”
yeonjun frowned, trying to recall the feeling. “does it hurt? or is it just uncomfortable?”
but before you could reply, his phone buzzed, breaking the conversation. he threw a quick glance at the number and grabbed the phone, accepting the call hurriedly, mouthing ‘locksmith’ to you. you nodded, watching his back as he rushed to the front door, quickly tugging his sneakers on, phone pressed to his ear with his shoulder, the rose keychain attached to the corridor key dangling out of his back pocket.
you felt… weird. it was a long-forgotten feeling, so you didn’t recognize it at first, but you felt like a child whose best friend's parents had come to pick them up from kindergarten, so not only you were left without your best friend, but alone in general, because the other children had already left, and you were left to wait for your own parents. longing and disappointment were a bit too strong of words for that, but it felt like them, in that childish way.
yeonjun stopped in the middle of tying his shoe, though, listening to what the person on the other side had to say, before slowly untying his shoes and taking them off. he ended the call and turned to you, making you look at him in question.
“something happened, and they had to move me further in order…” he mumbled, sitting back, embarrassed now at the way he’d hurried to leave the table. he only wanted to deal with the locksmith as quickly as possible so he could get back and continue talking to you, but by the way you looked at him—a tiny bit like a beaten-up puppy—he realized that it looked completely opposite of that. “they said i have to wait for an hour or two. they’ll call ten minutes before arrival.”
you nodded, rubbing the edge of the cup nervously. was he going to leave, as he now had much more time to go back home from some cafe and didn’t have to stay at your place? you didn’t want him to, but at the same time… you wouldn’t be surprised.
yeonjun, on the other hand, was unsure how to show that he wanted to stay without making you feel like you had to let him stay if you didn't want to. but… food was always an option, wasn’t it? “it’s around time for dinner. are you hungry?”
“oh!” you didn’t even realize that you were hungry, too consumed by the conversation. you stood up and went to the fridge. “i can cook somethi—” you paused, your shoulders falling—it was almost empty. just some snacks, milk and an egg. you were going to go to the convenience store after changing into something more comfortable, but that lost keys situation messed it up.
yeonjun looked over your shoulder at the fridge, holding back a chuckle—a typical fridge of a bachelorette (he assumed you were one based on the way your apartment looked), his own looked exactly the same. but it actually made the situation much better. “i can order something if you want? or we can go somewhere,” he proposed. “a friendly dinner as a thank you for giving me a place to wait.”
you froze for a second—he wanted to stay? you cleared your throat. “ordering something sounds great,” you admitted, shutting the fridge and sitting back. “i’m craving pizza, to be honest.”
he smiled widely. you didn’t want him to leave—it was great. “pizza it is!” he unlocked his phone, laying it on the table between you two. “choose anything you want.”
you started scrolling through the app. “i’m the host, i’m paying…” you mumbled, adding a pizza and a drink to the order. yeonjun replied with a little ‘mhm’, turning the phone to himself. you wish, baby, he thought, choosing food for himself.
of course, you didn’t pay. yeonjun had sworn he chose the “pay on delivery” option and even took your card when the doorbell rang. his face had been so trustworthy, you didn’t think twice. but it turned out his skill at lulling your vigilance was far better than you could expected. when he walked into the kitchen carrying the pizza boxes and a plastic bag of drinks, his expression was one of absolute shock. he announced that something had gone wrong—the order was already paid for. and, of course—how could you doubt him?—he had absolutely nothing to do with it. perhaps, he suggested, some kind soul (most likely a very handsome one, he added) had paid for it instead.
yeonjun had a way to make the atmosphere around him lighter and people around him more comfortable, you didn’t have to spend too much time figuring it out. but he also seemed to be stubborn—if he wanted to do something and thought it was right, he would do it, or find a way to do it if he was told not to. and he didn’t feel any remorse for that. but at the same time it was… fine? you didn’t want to confront him about paying for pizza, because you could easily find a way to return the favour some time later. ‘later’. the word made you feel warm inside, and you pushed all the questioning thoughts aside. yes. later.
“so,” you got yeonjun’s attention and he looked up at you, his mouth full of pizza—as if he tried to push the whole slice into his mouth without biting, which was almost cute—so you continued. “pineapple on pizza. yes or no?”
he made a face, which was ten times funnier with his stuffed cheeks. “absolutely no,” yeonjun announced as he finally managed to swallow. “like, absolutely. you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. you just shrugged, your face sly, and he made an expression of pure horror. “don’t tell me—i can’t believe i’m living next door to a psychopath! were you lulling my vigilance for the past hours just to hit me with this news?”
you couldn’t help but laugh your heart out at his endless drama skills, and he obviously had troubles keeping up the act and not laughing too. “it’s not that bad, yeonjun. don’t be so judgy! did you know,” you pointed at him with a pizza crust before biting into it, “that sweet and sour sauce is heavily based on pineapple juice?”
yeonjun rolled his eyes dramatically. “everyone knows it, girl. but it’s different,” he made a huge accent on the last word. “okay. my turn. mint choco ice cream.”
you scrunched your nose. “nope. but don’t tell me it’s a yes from you,” you warned jokingly and he smirked in response. “and you dared to call me a psychopath?! you? a mint chocolate ice cream lover?” it was getting harder and harder to keep your laugh inside, especially as he kept on laughing himself, but you tried to do your best. “i’ll be much more careful while leaving home now.”
“actually,” yeonjun tried to say it through laughter, but was completely failing. “it makes you a psychopath one more time, because mint choco is awesome! so you’re a double psychopath while i,” he pointed into his chest, “a poor victim of someone with questionable taste.”
you shook your head—you felt so full, content and comfortable now, it was almost unbelievable, but you loved it. “okay, expect a few tones of mint choco ice cream at your door as revenge for your shameless lie about paying for pizza.”
yeonjun laughed. “you don’t really understand the concept of revenge or punishment, do you?”
“invite me when you’re trying to find a way to store it, and ask me that one more time,” you stuck your tongue out at him, your cheeks already sore from laughing and smiling. “you’ll be watching it slowly melt while not being able to do anything about it, because you don’t have enough cold space.”
yeonjun pressed his hand to his chest, absolute terror all over his face. “a psychopath, no doubt… will you tie me down and feed me pineapple pizza next?” he asked, doing his best to keep his face straight.
“well, if that’s what gets you going…” you winked at him, but the ridiculousness of the exchange made you crack into a grin and laughter.
he moved a bit closer to you over the table and whispered. “really wanna know?” he winked back at you, but he was so bad at it, basically just blinking with both of his eyes, making your smile only bigger.
“okay-okay, keep it to yourself, perv,” you replied through laughter, and yeonjun moved back with a grin of a winner, grabbing another pizza slice.
talking with him was easy—he knew so much, able to continue basically any conversation, but most of them still were silly and ridiculous. you talked about everything and nothing at the same time, getting to know each other better all the while. yeonjun was a choreographer and a dance teacher. he used to be a dancer in his late teenage years, but eventually started giving lessons, making his own choreography and, well, giving lessons on his own choreography. he joked about missing the sore muscles after endless dance practices some days but always reminded himself he wasn’t that young anymore.
at some point you both somehow stumbled into a soulmate topic. it was a pure accident—you wouldn’t be able to recall how it happened or what led to it even if you tried, but you quickly changed the subject to friends, and you could swear he looked relieved for a second before composing himself. but even just a few words were enough for you two to realize that you both had some issues in that area and wandered around soulmate-less.
you barely even noticed how another hour passed, and yeonjun’s phone buzzed with a call from the locksmith. he didn’t rush to take the call that time, though, knowing it’d only mean that this tiny two-people party was over, as if the longer he would take to answer, the more time he’d get with you. but he knew it didn’t work that way, so he accepted the call and listened to the locksmith, who was saying he’d be there in ten minutes.
yeonjun ended the call, and stayed still for a second, looking at his phone screen before tapping a few times and holding it out for you. “save your number, please. or kakao id. whichever you prefer more.”
you hesitated, but he shook the phone softly to hurry you a bit, and you obeyed, taking it and typing your kakaotalk id in the “add friend” section. you paused, thinking of a way to save yourself, throwing a quick glance at yeonjun. he wasn’t so smiley and warm anymore, clearly dissatisfied—you were surprised how strongly his mood affected the atmosphere around him. or was it affecting just you?.. you typed in the safest option you could come up with—‘[ yn ], apt. 138’ —and tapped “add” before handing his phone back.
yeonjun looked at his screen, noticing the ridiculous name, small smile appearing on his face, as he quickly opened the editor and changed it to ‘little psycho’. he made sure you could see it just to witness your reaction, and he didn’t regret it a second, because you looked at him with one of the cutest angry expressions he had ever seen—your lips in a small pout and brows frowned.
“i’ll save you as ‘mr. maniac’ then,” you stated, but it only made him smile. you realized you were happy to make him smile and be the reason why he stopped being a thundercloud with tiny lightnings all around him—even if it was just for a second.
“please, do. i like the way ‘mr. maniac’ and ‘little psycho’ sound,” yeonjun said, checking the watch—he had to go soon. “i’ll even put red velvet’s ‘psycho’ as your ringtone, hm?” he proposed it like it was the best idea in the world, smug about coming up with it. the lyrics flew quickly in your mind, making you press your lips together, and he noticed it immediately. “no, nevermind, sorry—”
but you composed yourself quickly. “but only if you’re getting stray kids’ ‘maniac’ as yours. fair and square,” you said, trying to keep the most serious face you could manage, holding out your hand to “seal the agreement”. yeonjun took it just as seriously, shaking it a few times, but not letting go when it was clearly time to do so. you tilted your head in question, and that was the moment you realized you should never expect anything good from that man.
yeonjun stood up from the bar stool, placing his other hand behind his back and bowing slightly as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a feather-light kiss to the back of it. “deal, milady,” he said, a foxy smile playing on his face—you were sure he wasn’t even trying to hide it, no attempt to pretend not to do it on purpose just to play with you!
you narrowed your eyes at him, turning your hand a bit to pinch the skin between his thumb and index finger, making him tsk at you, but it quickly turned into a chuckle when he noticed the way you hissed as his ring scratched exactly the same spot on your hand.
yeonjun's grin grew bigger at that. of course, he didn't do it on purpose, but it was funny nevertheless—the way your intent to “hurt him” turned against yourself. “the revenge was quick that time, wasn't it?” he asked mockingly, with no actual bite to his words, and somehow he was sure you knew it. his phone buzzed, though, and he realized he’d lost track of time again. “i’ll text you, okay? ‘mr. maniac’. don't forget,” he warned jokingly, trying to make you smile as he saw your face slowly falling.
you nodded and followed him to the front door, watching him open the corridor door for the locksmith and let him in. they both came closer to you, the man asking for yeonjun's id to confirm he was living there. you almost retreated to your own apartment, not wanting to create a crowd when it obviously wasn't needed, when your eyes fell on yeonjun's wallet that he had taken out to get his id. inside, in a small window people usually used for photos, was a tiny pink pressed rose bud, the little flower made your heart skip a beat. why would he have something like that?.. even the locksmith's question didn't tear your attention away from it; it was yeonjun's soft, almost concerned ‘[ yn ]?’ that pulled you out of your head.
it was impossible to describe how embarrassed you were, trying to quickly recall what the question had been. “uh, yes, that man is my neighbour. of a few years,” you said quickly, and the locksmith nodded, giving yeonjun his id back and saying something about two confirmations being better than one, to which you only nodded absentmindedly, image of the flower still in front of your eyes.
you waved yeonjun goodbye and mumbled something about having a good day to the locksmith before disappearing behind your door—completely unaware of yeonjun’s worried look.
the moment the door was locked, the last ‘click’ going through the heavy air, you realized how stupid you were for overthinking it—it was probably a little nothing from someone important. a girlfriend, perhaps. yes, he didn't have a soulmate, but that didn’t mean people who hadn’t met their soulmate couldn’t date anyone else—after all, your own soulmate did the same thing so many years ago. and you wouldtoo, you admitted to yourself, given the opportunity—that endless chase for someone who was god knows where, if they even were, was exhausting.
you didn’t even turn away from the door yet when your watch buzzed and you saw ‘be a cute psycho, not a sad psycho ;)’ on the screen. you looked into the peephole, and there he was—sending his failing wink at you and making you smile. you unlocked your phone and sent a quick ‘okay, mr. maniac’, accepting his friend request and changing ‘choi yeonjun’ to the nickname he wanted. you thought for a second before taking a screenshot of his name and sending it to him, getting a reply almost immediately—’good girl’. you paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure how to reply, when another message came in: ‘tell me when i’m too much, okay? don’t put up with my behaviour if it makes you uncomfortable’. it was nice—really nice, warmth spilling inside, as you sent ‘okay. but it’s fine so far, don’t worry’.
the conversation didn’t stop there—just like you two were talking about everything and nothing when yeonjun was sitting in your kitchen, you continued talking through texts, completely losing track of time—friends, families, funny stories from work. turned out he was three handshakes away from you—one of the guys who took yeonjun’s dance lessons about a year ago and became his good friend was regularly playing league with soobin. the guy he moved to japan a few months ago and kept complaining to yeonjun that his playing buddy chose a girl over him until three of them started playing together.
it was past midnight when yeonjun said that it was time for you two to sleep, and you couldn’t even fight him on it—you tried to, but he kept correcting your sleepy typos instead of answering, and you quickly realized once again it was useless to go against him, because he would find a way to get everything done his way. so you wished him sweet dreams and locked your phone, putting it on the bedside table, your sleepy gaze still glued to it. you hoped yeonjun wasn’t finding you annoying—you liked talking to him.
just like your head was full of him for the previous few hours, your last thoughts before finally falling asleep were the same.
the pain caused by him was delicious. it reminded you of caramel—his touches were drawn-out, hot and so, so sweet. no pleasure had ever come close to the sweetness of the pain he was inflicting upon you—he took his time, making you savour everything he was giving you and crave more.
it felt like he was everywhere, coating every inch of your body; pain, just like honey, glazing every nerve—you could feel him tugging your hair, fist firm against the back of your head, could feel his fingertips sinking into the flesh of your thighs, craving to leave marks on you—you prayed they did—and his nails digging into your skin as he ran his hand down, leaving trails along your legs—just as burning and sweet as melted chocolate.
his fingers around your neck felt like the only necklace you would ever want to wear from now on—hand firm, warm and sweet too. if only he tightened his hand—he did so immediately, making you roll your eyes and part your lips, and he didn't let the opportunity go to waste, sliding his index and middle finger into your mouth, the other ones and thumb digging into the gentle skin of your cheeks.
but the most delicious pain was brought by his teeth, sinking into the skin of your neck and chest, holding it as he sucked the soft surface in, making the lonely thorny stem on your chest bloom, as he held you pressed into him. it was as if he wanted to merge you together, never letting you leave him, and you would beg him to even sew you two together just to never stop feeling that pain. would beg for more of it.
you felt him part your legs, one hand still on your neck, another one digging fingers into the inside of your thigh as he opened you for him, sinking his teeth into the flesh of the other thigh. he leaned in, and the feeling of his warm breath between your legs made you lose the last shred of sanity you still had after all the sweet torture he put you through. at least, you thought so until his wet, warm tongue pressed against your aching clit.
you arched your back, clenching the bed sheet in your hands. “yeonjun—” you choked out, eyes flying open, heart pounding in your chest. the ceiling of your bedroom felt pressing and heavy, trying to bury you under its weight, as if the guilt and disgust at your own dreams weren't heavy enough.
everywhere his hands had been just mere moments ago felt dirty, as if every inch of you was covered in filth instead of the sweet honey his touches had coated you in. you wanted nothing more than to go shower and scratch away the remnants of the disgusting dream you’d had, but even the thought of touching yourself—not sexually, just touching yourself anywhere—made you want to throw up.
yeonjun was nothing but kind to you, making you feel warm and comfortable, asking if you were fine with his behaviour almost on the clock, and you paid him with having a fucking wet dream. not even a soft vanilla one—though, that one wouldn't have made the situation much better—but a dirty one, where you craved him to hurt you, and absolutely nothing was fine about it. it was that stupid masochism again, the one you tried so hard to ignore.
you sat up slowly, wincing at the uncomfortable feeling between your legs—you touched the fabric and it was basically soaked, feeling under the pads of your fingers adding to the guilt, because you weren't sure when was the last time you'd been that wet. you had to pull your panties off just not to feel your wetness against your skin—cool night air making you hiss.
the floor was cold under your bare feet, but you didn't care, finding a clean pair and pulling it on almost violently. you needed some water—your throat and lips were dry, and you prayed to all the gods that you had been just as quiet while having a wet dream as you were while touching yourself. if you remembered correctly, your and yeonjun's apartments were mirroring each other, meaning his bedroom was just behind the wall from yours.
you stood by the counter, your fingers clutching the glass—you two were sitting just a few hours ago behind your back, and you wondered how you'd be able to look him in the eyes now, if you couldn't even look at yourself.
just a wall away from where you were only a few minutes ago, yeonjun stirred awake with a soft groan on his lips, head thrown back. his heart was beating like crazy, and his entire body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, as he struggled to catch his breath and grasp at least one coherent thought amidst the dozen flying through his mind. but most importantly, he wanted to focus on anything but the images that stayed in his head even after he woke up.
yeonjun couldn't believe these thoughts, these fantasies were back. they weren't too hardcore, but he still had been pushing them down and ignoring their existence for years. no matter how he tried to phrase it, none sounded good—‘i’m a sadist’? he was, but he was a softcore one—that wasn't what anyone would think when hearing the word, though. ‘i enjoy causing pain’? it was even worse. and even knowing the truth himself, he couldn't accept it, too afraid of being labeled a psychopath. again.
but they were back, and in the worst way possible—dreams. something yeonjun couldn't control. and what dreams they were—about the sweet neighbour he had only started getting to know better, and never wanted to make her feel uncomfortable. but his brain thought differently. too differently, throwing in images of the way your skin felt between his lips and teeth, of the way his fingers fit perfectly around your neck, as if it was made for him to hold it, of the way you trembled and clenched at every little glimpse of pain he was giving you.
yeonjun felt himself twitch in his boxers—pictures too vivid in his head. he ran his fingers through his hair, pulling the damp bangs away from his sweaty forehead and tugging at the roots. he didn't want to do it, truly didn't, but it was almost hurting, and his free hand—almost on its own accord—drifted down to jerk his tank top higher and then palm his hard cock through his boxers. he groaned at the feeling that was releasing at least a bit of pressure—pressure so unbearable, it almost shadowed the guilt he felt over thinking about you in such way.
the fabric was soaked through with precum, and yeonjun pushed it down with a quiet, low moan, freeing himself, his pulsing cock slapping against his stomach and leaving a smear of precum on his skin. he wrapped his hand around the shaft, stroking it slowly, images from the dream finding its way back into his mind—he tried his best to keep his fantasies to the needed minimum, not letting anything else in. he was doing it only to get rid of a boner.
but you felt so good beneath him there, your expressions, your sounds, the little trembles of your body and the way you clung to him, begging for more—all of it was sweeter than honey. yeonjun couldn’t stop his thoughts from wandering. was it possible to make you even sweeter? of course, he thought, cock twitching in his hand even before he finished the thought. because he could want anything, crave anything and you would give it to him, because you craved the same thing. like his lost puzzle piece.
yeonjun stroked himself faster, his grip tightening around his throbbing cock as he started losing himself in the fantasy, much more dangerous than the one he had dreamed about, but he was in too deep to stop, because you—the one from the dream—was her. the one he had craved so much but had buried deep inside, down to the last thought. the one who wanted everything he wanted to give and could give—in exact same amounts. just perfect for him down to the smallest whimpers of pleasure found in the pain he gave you.
the thought made yeonjun groan, his hips bucking up into his fist as he felt his release building fast. he could almost hear your mewls and sobs of begging to never stop, feel your hands on his body, holding him and accepting him and his every dark part. he came, biting into his lip hard to muffle his moan of your name, as thick ropes of cum painted his stomach and hand.
yeonjun tried to catch his breath, guilt slowly creeping in—much stronger than before—but there was something worse. the word was still bright, almost blinding in his mind, and he couldn’t believe a mere wet dream and just jerking off had awakened in him something that he had been hiding from himself for nearly a decade.
he looked at his hand, covered in cum, in disgust and grabbed the pack of facial tissues, pulling them out harshly to get rid of the reminders of everything that had happened. yeonjun wasn’t disgusted by his cum—he was a grown up, after all—but he hated everything that was somehow connected to it this time, and tissues weren’t enough. he threw the box somewhere on the bed and got up to go to the bathroom to at least wash his hands properly.
yeonjun didn’t even bother to wipe them dry, just pausing in the doorway on his way out and shaking the drops off, as his gaze fell on the key you had given him, the silver rose keychain dangling down from the shelf, reflecting a light that went through the window from somewhere outside in the night. it was too dark to see the thorns, but he knew they were there, mocking him with the cruel coincidence.
the way yeonjun tugged his tank top off on his way to the large mirror was almost cruel—he couldn’t care less if he tore it, he needed to look at it. he turned his back to the mirror, looking at the reflection over his shoulder, and there it was—mark of a wild rose, a thorned rose stem crossing his back. looking at it was almost foreign, feeling like a distant memory of someone who he had been years ago.
yeonjun had always thought he was lucky to have it somewhere he just couldn’t see it—wild roses didn’t always find their soulmates, and their marks were a constant reminder of that, so he felt sorry for those who had to look at it regularly. he had the privilege of only seeing his own when he wanted to, and he never did—he hadn’t seen it for years. but had it helped him now?
had his dismissal towards it helped him, when his tired and stressed brain clung to the nicest and most relaxing thing that had happened to him in weeks and distorted it into something dirty and disgusting, which had awakened a craving for something that he had given up on getting long ago, because his soulmate was nowhere to be found?
had his pretending helped him, when he came with the thought of just being accepted?
everything melted under the morning light, though—just like how it could turn the monster in the dark corner into a coat carelessly hung on the coat rack, when you were a child, in the same way, it transformed all the thoughts, fears and, most importantly, guilt into indifference for both of you.
in the darkness of the night, you weren't sure how you could even think of yeonjun, but now, as you were applying healing lip balm to you sore lower lip—that you, perhaps, had bitten too hard last night—while trying to type with your other hand, you didn’t see any problem—you couldn’t control your dreams. your brain had probably been so overloaded with yeonjun for hours before you went to sleep, that it just continued thinking of him even subconsciously. god, you even had a wet dream about soobin once, after you two stayed in the office until almost midnight and you were just too tired.
yeonjun would never know about it anyway—unless you told him, and you surely weren’t going to. you were going to just go with the flow and let stuff happen the way they were supposed to, without ruining everything for yourself by feeling ‘guilt’ and ‘disgust’ toward your subconscious. you would just deal with the consequences later—if there would be any, of course. you sure there wouldn’t be.
and it was the same for yeonjun, who was almost embarrassed with how dramatic he had been in the dark shadows of his apartment and thoughts, longing for a soulmate who would ‘accept’ him. yes, his soulmate would—just as he would do the same for them—because his darkness aligned and blended perfectly with theirs. that was the point of soulmates. but who said his soulmate was the only one who could do it? his friends accepted him—yes, it was different, but it was still acceptance. who said there was only one person in the world that could accept him as a lover? bullshit.
and when it came to the filthiness of thoughts yeonjun had about you… he wasn’t so sure it was truly you, if he was being honest. in the chill morning air, it felt more like a phantom of his soulmate—one he secretly craved so badly to hold—had shaped itself into your form just because he spent so much time with you yesterday. it probably had to do a little with you as… you. too little. almost nothing.
so yeonjun had almost no remorse sending you a good morning text in the form of ‘so, are you having pineapple pizza for breakfast? or are you going to add pineapples to kimchi maybe?’. before he could even wonder if it sounded a bit too rude or aggressive, you hit him back with ‘okay, jokes aside, serious question now. do you put choco mint ice cream on your fried chicken or do you prefer to dip it?’, making him smile—you matched his sass, and he loved it.
yeonjun asked you if you wanted him to keep you company on your way to the ground floor, so you wouldn’t get bored waiting for the elevator and in it—a kind man he was—and you hesitantly agreed, not wanting to burden him, but keeping in mind that he was the one who offered. he didn’t have to, but he still did, so it was safe to assume he at least had no problems with it—and at most, wanted to. so you chose not to think for him and just be honest.
it was awkward, leaving the apartment and seeing him by your door, waiting for you, but you brushed it off—it reminded you of a friend waiting for you to walk to school together, and it wasn’t a big deal. what was a big deal was the way your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, images from the dream still haunting you, a weird feeling blooming in your lower stomach. seeing him after the way you had felt him in the dream was unsettling, but you tried to push the images away—of course, they were still there, barely any time had passed.
it was the same for yeonjun, his breath hitching when he saw you—so composed and neat compared to how messy and ruffled you had looked in his dream and his fantasies. he quickly corrected himself—not you. his soulmate. with your appearance, but still not you. but he didn’t realize that it took him a bit too long until your question pulled him from his thoughts.
yeonjun was looking at you so intently that you felt an almost overpowering need to make yourself seem smaller. he couldn’t read your mind, could he?.. “is there something on my face?” you asked uncertainly, your hand shooting up to touch your lips. you didn’t have a coffee mustache, did you? that’d be so embarrassing!
“huh?” yeonjun quickly ran his eyes over your face. “no, nothing,” he shook his head, but almost immediately narrowed his eyes, leaning in just a bit closer, making your eyes widen. but then he shook his head and straightened back. “nope, nothing.”
that man was something else, you thought. “what did you think you saw?” you asked curiously, as you both headed to the elevator hall.
“hm?” yeonjun threw a quick glance at you. “it seemed like you had a whole pineapple slice in the corner of your lip,” he shrugged nonchalantly, but the tiny smirk tugging at his lips gave away his intentions to tease you. he continued, “probably imagined it.”
you quirked an eyebrow at him, keeping the play up as you stepped into the elevator. “really? just a few hours with me, and you are already imagining pineapples everywhere?” you leaned your back against the mirror, watching as he stood a bit to the side to adjust his hair. “what’s next? ordering pineapple pizza in the middle of the night so no one sees it?”
gosh, yeonjun thought, throwing a quick glance at your reflection. you fit right into the circle of people he enjoyed spending time with. and what was even better, he knew he’d always have the last word with you. “mhm,” he turned to you. “wait til you look at mint choco ice cream in a convenience store, and the next second, you find yourself eating it with a tablespoon in the middle of the night, thinking of me,” he smirked.
you rolled your eyes playfully, covering up the weird way your insides reacted to ‘thinking of him in the middle of the night’. “you wish,” you stuck your tongue out at him, knowing he’d take it as your defeat. yeonjun seemed to like making you flustered and having the upper hand, and you could get flustered easily sometimes and had never been too sharp-tongued, sometimes struggling to come up with extremely clever and sassy responses—but he didn't seem to mind.
but ‘keeping company to the ground floor’ became ‘keeping company to the nearest bakery’ to get morning coffee for both of you—yeonjun said that he since was already outside, he might as well use the opportunity to get americano for now and some baked goods for later. you weren't sure who was the first to joke when he handed you your cup, but his question about whether there was a pineapple slice in your coffee blended with your question about him deciding against adding chocolate-ed toothpaste to his coffee this time, and neither of you had even finished—your shared laughter filled the little bakery instead.
when you parted your ways, though, yeonjun realized that while talking to you made his exhausting thoughts disappear and he could just stop worrying about basically anything—which was only weird because you had met a little over twelve hours ago, as his friends were able to do the same—whenever you two weren’t talking, his mood became even worse than before, thoughts about not meeting his soulmate yet coming back to haunt him. he thought he had stopped caring a few years ago.
it wasn’t easy to keep himself from turning around to look at you, but he managed to, gripping the cup in his hand tighter, the ice cubes clicking together and cooling his skin even through plastic. was the temporary happiness worth the dark thoughts that crept in the moment he hadn't heard from you for a minute? he wasn't sure. it still wasn't too late to go back to being just neighbours—you still had nothing between you two except one and a half inner jokes. it'd be easy to pretend things just didn't work out.
yeonjun unlocked his phone, the chat with you still open on the screen. his eyes ran over the lines of the morning conversation, a soft smile appearing on his face. he wasn't sure he could do it—to pretend it just didn't work out—because it did, and your messages were perfect proof of it. he wasn't a weak man; he knew how to fight bad habits and addictions, and he could fight this one too, but… did he want to?
you, on the other hand, felt like you were shining from the inside. it seemed like the universe, destiny, fate, or whatever else was up there had heard your intentions of letting the soulmate situation go and sent yeonjun to support you along the way. maybe yeonjun was a sign, hitting you right over the head, telling you it was time to move on and focus on something else. for example, building a good friendship with someone nice and kind? it probably was. what else could it be?
it became a regular habit—not a daily one, but yeonjun kept you company on your way to your work until the bakery at least two or three times a week, when his schedule allowed him—sometimes, his lessons started early in the morning, and he left while you were still sound asleep. he usually told you about it the morning of the previous day, adding something like “just don't miss me too much” or “i hope you won't cry on your way to work”.
yeonjun developed a habit of visiting the bakery and paying for your regular order beforehand these days, but of course, when you asked him about it, he had sworn it wasn't him—just some other kind and extremely handsome soul. perhaps the same one that paid for the pizza the first day. but you weren't going to let it slide, so whenever you both visited the bakery, it turned into a competition who could pay for both orders faster, and eventually two orders became one—to make it impossible to have a tie and to minimize the playful wrestling your competition was turning into.
what surprised you the most, though—because yeonjun's desire to pay for you didn't—was that he and soobin somehow got into contact, probably through beomgyu, and almost made a schedule. whenever soobin couldn't walk you home after working extra hours—either because he had his own plans or because you were the only one who stayed behind—yeonjun was right there, waiting for you. you knew you could tell soobin you wanted to go home alone that day, and he'd text yeonjun, telling him not to worry, but somehow, you were sure yeonjun would still come, not wanting you to walk alone when it was getting dark even before you left work. and you liked spending extra time with him, so you never fought him on it.
every time yeonjun saw you and your bright smile directed at him, he thanked his past self for deciding against pretending things between you and him didn't work out. he realized it wasn't you who was a problem despite triggering these dark thoughts, he was one—he had never really worked them through, choosing to just ignore them until they disappeared. and he thought they had, but of course they hadn't. yet somehow, it felt like just your presence was slowly healing him, motivating him to work his issues out, and it was getting better, even though he never shared his burdens with you.
unexpectedly enough, you hadn't visited yeonjun's apartment in these two months, and he had only visited yours on the day you two talked for the first time. your schedules just didn't seem to match well enough—your nine-to-five job barely aligned with his packed weekday evenings (some days he had to rush back to the dance studio after walking you home) and almost full weekends, where he could have up to twelve hours of lessons each day.
“as i spent two hours at your place the first day,” yeonjun once stated while walking you home, your fingers wrapped around his arm, as he held an umbrella over you both, “it'll be only fair if you spend just as much time at mine,” he threw his regular glance at you to check if you were fully shielded from rain.
it pulled you out of your head and you looked at yeonjun with a little ‘hm?’ but your brain caught up before he could repeat himself. “two hours? don't tell me you're going to set a countdown and push me out the moment it runs out,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow.
“nah, don't worry,” yeonjun assured you, poking your shoulder. “i’ll set a countdown and won't let you out until it goes out,” he paused for a second, wondering if he should say that, but jokes like that had become more or less regular between you two pretty quickly. he just hoped you'd tell him if he ever made you feel uncomfortable. “might even tie you up, hm?”
you looked at him with ‘are you serious?’ expression, trying to contain your smile. “you're such a perv, jun,” you said, shaking your head, but you weren't serious about it, and he knew it—you often were the one to start these jokes. “how did we get from jokes about tying you up to jokes about tying me up, though?”
yeonjun shrugged. “got to know each other better?” he was only half joking—he had enough experience to be almost completely sure where exactly you leaned on that… coordinate line. and considering you were keeping up with that direction of jokes, he assumed he was right.
you narrowed your eyes at him—were you that obvious? “what does that mean, choi yeonjun?” you asked with mock pressure, but he only laughed, shaking his head. “are you free to hang out today?” you asked quietly, hoping he was. why would he mention it in the first place if he wasn't?
but yeonjun only shook his head, sighing. “no, sorry, mouse,” he squeezed your hand on his arm with his in an attempt to comfort you at least a bit. “i have classes in twenty minutes and almost til midnight,” he said. he hated to upset you—you never said it outright, but he could hear it in your voice. and he knew he’d hear that little hint of disappointment now too.
of course, he did… you nodded, eyes glued to the tips of your shoes. “okay…”, you mumbled, looking at the reflection of you both in the puddles. it was his job, and he already somehow managed to find time between classes to walk you home when soobin couldn't and woke up early some days to keep you company on your way to work. you wished you could hide your emotions better, but it was difficult to pretend with him. you wanted to be sincere. “sorry. don’t think about it, okay?”
yeonjun pressed his lips together—you both still hadn't passed that stage. you could show your emotions to each other, but never really shared deep feelings, quickly pushing them away and covering them with a smile. and he couldn't ask you to open up, because he wasn't sure he would be able to do the same. “okay,” he smiled warmly at you. “i’ll record myself dancing between classes and send it to you, okay?”
you nodded, already happier—you loved watching him dance because you could see how much he enjoyed doing it, basically shining from the inside when he was doing it, his happiness almost contagious. and yeonjun enjoyed showing his skills to you too—he had only showed you his dancing in person a few times, but each time you looked at him with such awe, as if he were performing miracles rather than just moving his limbs. it fed his ego to no end, if he had to admit.
a few weeks later, though, yeonjun managed to free up his schedule a little and finally invited you to his place, swearing he didn't have any mint choco ice cream there, and you promised your pockets were free of pineapple pizzas. he had admitted he had nothing against pineapples on pizza less than a week after joking about it for the first time, and you said you were only joking about mint chocolate too, but the joke still stuck—it was your first inside joke (or the second one, after the one about yeonjun being a maniac one).
you found out he played guitar—the tips of your fingers itched at the memory, but you pushed it away—but he hadn’t played much recently, barely having time to practice anymore, so he figured he had probably lost all his skills. but yeonjun tried to remember a melody, playing it for you as you sat in his living room, watching him try to recall finger placements. and he was actually good, making you wonder why he gave himself so little credit sometimes. he was a great singer too—another skill from his middle school years—and while the highest notes weren’t his strongest suit, his soft, breathy singing was one of the nicest voices you had ever heard.
since then, yeonjun managed to free up even more time to spend it with you and his other friends—he was glad you motivated him to do it, because he realized he had been overworking himself like crazy for the past two years, taking on more classes than he could realistically handle while still enjoying his job. he could finally sleep properly too, minimizing the number of classes that started too early or ended too late, which also gave him opportunity to meet his old friends more often and spend time with you at his or your place almost on daily basis.
it made you both slowly start opening up to each other about your current problems—work, friends, families—as you sat on the couch late at night,the room dimly lit by a paused movie or tv series on the screen, a slightly open window letting in cool air and making you wrap your blankets tighter around yourselves. all of it made the atmosphere too comfortable, almost intimate, making each of you think about the things that were burdening you and stealing the desire to keep them to yourselves when getting asked about them.
often, you were the one who shared your burdens, and yeonjun listened, giving advice or, more often, sharing his point of view on the things you were worried about. you never expected him to be so emotionally mature, if you had to admit—he was extremely stubborn and even short-tempered some days, occasionally seemed to have issues when his authority was questioned, and you had noticed some light possessive tendencies, but his advice was always great, and most of the time, he was able to help you decipher your own feelings and emotions when you were completely confused.
yeonjun preferred to keep his burdens to himself—not just from you, but from almost everyone. he was the oldest in his friend group, and didn’t want to burden others in general, especially the ones who were younger. and, he once admitted, he also felt even more protective over you. he never said why, but you knew—he saw you weak. not in a bad way, just as someone who needed protection, and he wanted to take that role, which meant he wasn’t allowed to make you feel worse in any way, even if it was worrying about him.
but at the same time, yeonjun tried his best to open up about things he was sure wouldn’t worry you too much—an annoying person in his class, spoiled milk because he forgot to put it back in the fridge, or a takeout order that was delivered wrong. things that made him annoyed or angry, not upset or hurt, because he was afraid you’d mirror his feelings, and being annoyed was much better than being upset. but even so, it still helped him open up more and more to you.
the only thing neither of you ever mentioned in these months was soulmates—the first slip into that topic had drawn a line you both didn’t want to cross, realizing how difficult it was even without knowing the details. mostly because it was the same for both of you. but at the same time, neither yeonjun nor you worried too much about it recently, too focused on maintaining a newly found friendship. of course, some dark thoughts still haunted you in the dead of night, but it happened much less frequently.
wet dreams started happening more frequently, though. so often, you didn’t even bother anymore, simply going right back to sleep after waking up from another one in the middle of the night. all of them were based on the same thing—pain, which was more or less understandable, given your type of soulmate bond affected your relationship with it a lot. but you couldn’t wrap your head around yeonjun being the one in your dreams. he seemed so gentle with whatever he touched, so soft, a complete opposite of how he was in your dreams, and despite him being an extremely handsome man and everything anyone could want in a partner, you weren’t sure you were sexually attracted to him. at least, not until yet another wet dream that made you look at him differently for a few days.
for yeonjun, it was even worse—the fantasies he had been suppressing for years started creeping closer to the surface, which didn’t match well with his already naturally high libido, more free time from work, and not wanting to look for a friend with benefits or even a one-night stand. some nights he even managed to jerk off and clean up while being half-asleep, waking up in the morning with only a fleeting memory of what had happened. he felt more annoyed by it than guilty, but refused to admit it even to himself—the thought felt extremely selfish and wrong. he wasn't sure why you were the one who pushed his pain kink to the surface, unable to find an answer no matter how much time he spent thinking about it.
it became such a regular thing for both of you, that you just went about your days like nothing had changed, neither of you trying to put any distance between you. you kept getting closer, and at some point, yeonjun gave you a spare key to his apartment—he wasn't sure why, but said it felt ‘natural’. you joked that at least he wouldn’t have to worry about losing his keys anymore, before giving him a spare key to yours—it felt ‘natural' too.
while you barely used yeonjun's, he used yours almost regularly—his uneven working schedule was giving him an opportunity to go grocery shopping in the middle of the day sometimes, so he started buying groceries for both of you, so you wouldn’t have to bother with it after work, leaving them at your place. of course, he always asked beforehand if he could come into your apartment or if you'd prefer him to keep them at his place until you could take them later, but you had no problem with him visiting your place, so you always gave the green light.
yeonjun never took it as a “permanent green light” though, and kept asking for your permission. so when one friday evening you texted him about not feeling too well and probably having a cold—just to explain why you couldn't hang out with him—he asked if he could check on you in the morning and maybe cook something for you. you agreed hesitantly, under the condition of him not getting too close to you so he wouldn't catch a cold too. you both knew perfectly well that he'd do whatever he wanted anyway, but it was obvious he wouldn't visit you without your permission. still, he'd worry his ass out if he didn’t, so you just agreed—you’d take care of him if he got sick.
in the middle of the night, your fever got much worse, your temperature rising significantly and you were so cold, that you could do nothing except pull thick warm pajamas over the skimpy top and shorts you usually slept in and add another blanket, wrapping yourself in two of them like a hot, feverish burrito. and that was exactly how yeonjun found you in the early morning.
it was still dark, but yeonjun decided he could check your temperature in the dim glow of the city lights filtering through your window—he didn't want to wake you by turning on the bright lights, so he stepped to your bed, already feeling uneasy at the sight of how little of your face was visible between the uneven layers of blankets. and it only got worse when he crouched down next to the bed and touched your cheek with the back of his hand—you were practically burning.
yeonjun almost jumped up, quickly slapping the nightlight lamp you had on your bedside table, the room filling with a soft yellow glow as he started unwrapping you from the layers of blankets. “come on, mouse, don't be stubborn,” he mumbled, when you tried to cling to the fabric, but he was stronger in general and you were weakened by the cold, so he had no problem uncovering you. “shit… are you trying to burn yourself alive?” he cursed, when he saw how thick your pajamas were.
but that's when yeonjun froze, towering over you, his knee on the bed as you tried to keep warm, curling into a ball, your back facing him. he wasn't sure you were wearing anything underneath—panties, most probably, but a top…? cautiously, he slid the pajama top up your back, revealing the thin fabric of a crop top, damp with sweat and clinging to your skin. your skin felt like fire under his fingers. shit, he thought. please, don't hate me.
he turned you on your back, trying to tug your pajama top off, but you clung to his arms with quiet sniffles. yeonjun thought his heart was breaking at the way you kept softly sobbing his name, saying how cold you were—he wasn’t even sure how you recognized him in that state, but you did.
“baby,” he whispered, trying to lift your arms, but you only tried to wrap them around him, desperate for even a bit of his warmth. “we need to lower your temperature. please, let me take this off.”
you only whimpered his name again, your nails digging into his forearm. “jjun-ie… it’s so cold,” you sobbed quietly, and yeonjun’s heart skipped a beat—you had never called him that way before, and the way you did now made him want to protect you from everything. or give in. but he knew better. “you’re so warm…”
yeonjun hushed you, quickly throwing a glance at the medicine and glass of water on your bedside table beside the thermometer—you prepared it before going to bed. good girl. “i’ll warm you, i promise,” he murmured, pressing his palm to your side—your temperature was only getting higher. “just let me take this off, okay?” he said, tugging the pajama top up slightly.
you nodded with a quiet ‘okay’, and yeonjun, finally getting permission even though a questionable one, pulled the over your head—at least you cooperated now—and froze with it in his hands, his eyes locked on your skin that wasn’t covered with the short top. he almost forgot how to breath.
when he realized he had to undress you, he had told himself this was nothing, that he had seen enough women naked before, that there wouldn’t be anything new. and there wasn’t anything new. but there was something he had never expected to see—the mark. the one that resembled the one on his back. the same mark he had seen on the bodies of other wild roses he knew. half of the stem hidden beneath your top.
you were a wild rose. yeonjun felt like a complete idiot—everything had hinted at that. all the wild roses he knew disliked or even hated roses before meeting their soulmate, yet they always had something connected to roses on them. some wore jewelry, some had keychains or little paintings of one in their phone case. he had a pressed rosebud in his wallet, and you never took off a velvet bracelet that—he now realized—would look like a thorny rose stem if you laid it down.
you had some issues with connection or your soulmate—yeonjun didn’t know the details, but he had never met a wild rose who had it easy. that type of bond being probably the least stable and the most unpredictable one. and you also tried your best to be extremely carefulб even in your clumsiest moments—that was something wild roses learned early on. and, well, you hadn’t met your soulmate, which wasn’t too strange before, but made sense now—many wild roses wandered alone for a really long time.
yeonjun almost touched the thorn under your collarbone as if hypnotized when your sob of his name pulled him out of the haze. you sat up, reaching for him, and he was actually glad you did, because he needed you to take your medicine. he sat on the bed next to you, and you clung to him almost instantly, one of your hands slipping under his hoodie to press against his back, as you tried to warm yourself. he froze—his own mark was there, and even though you couldn’t feel it, it still made him feel weird.
but yeonjun only adjusted your position slightly, settling you between his legs, your side pressed to his chest. he suddenly felt weak, wondering if the discovered information was already taking its toll on him. but he shook his head—not the right time to think about it. he popped the pill out and grabbed the glass, placing the medicine in your palm and guiding the glass to your hand, his own holding it over yours in case you were too weak.
you stopped sobbing about being cold, though you still shivered and trembled slightly in his arms. maybe, the fresh air in your room had cooled you down a bit, clearing your mind, but either way, yeonjun was glad you had calmed down a bit—it made you much more cooperative. you took the medicine almost without needing his words, earning a quiet ‘good girl’ from him, which you probably paid no attention to.
your arms were around yeonjun’s waist the moment he took the glass away from you, holding him tightly as you pressed your chest against his as much as you could in that position. he quietly asked you if he could take off your too-thick pajama pants as well, and you nodded with a quiet ‘yes’, your head resting on his shoulder, breath warm against his neck. you even lifted your hips slightly to help him pull your pants down, getting another ‘good girl' in response.
yeonjun put the thermometer into your mouth and rested his palm on your bare knee, as you pulled your legs closer to your chest, cold now as your pajamas were gone. he tried to warm you at least a little, but mostly, he let you warm yourself against him the way you wanted to, like your own personal human heater—it was the first time you two had been this close, and it was extremely close compared to the simple hello and goodbye hugs, which had been the closest you’d ever gotten. and he was too lost in thoughts anyway to think about how to warm you actively without crossing any boundaries.
somehow, the discovery was horrifying, and mostly because yeonjun had no idea why it scared him so much. was it because it made him feel so much more protective over you, knowing perfectly how painful that type of bond could be? or because of how close it would naturally bring you together in search of comfort whenever it came to anything about soulmates? or maybe because he knew he would have to open up now and tell you who he was—because he knew who you were, and it would only be fair. because he was afraid to open that pandora’s box he called his soul. afraid to do it again, and realize, too late, that he had chosen the wrong person. one more time.
but as you finally fell asleep on his shoulder, your breathing even, your hold loosening and your skin no longer burning—the second temperature check confirming it—yeonjun knew he would never tell you how much you clung to him or how helpless you had sounded, unless you remembered it yourself. he didn't want you to feel embarrassed, especially when there was nothing to be embarrassed about in the first place. he caressed your cheek without thinking, surprising himself both with the action and with the way you instinctively leaned into his cool hand.
carefully, yeonjun laid you back down on your bed and covered you with a thin blanket, holding himself back from pressing lips to your forehead the way his mom always did to him, even when he had grown up. he got up slowly—he still felt weak, but he had to cook something for you, so you’d have something to eat when you woke up. he slapped the nightlight one more time to turn it off, and threw one last quick glance at you before leaving the bedroom.
you were much more surprising than he could ever expect, and he had no idea what to do with these surprises.
♡ you're here ♡ | to chapter 2 →
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hi! i just wanted to say that as a very traumatised autistic person, your piece An Autistic Social Butterfly's Guide to Making Friends has brought me close to tears. i have faced ostracism my whole life, from early childhood, when my parents were physically abusive, to primary school age, where i was regularly bullied and isolated, to high school where i started dealing with heavy mental health issues as a result of continued ostracism, including suicidality, depression and anxiety. my whole life i’ve been told that whatever i was facing was something of my own creation, and despite my autism diagnosis at 13, my parents never ceased this mantra. when in high school i met a group of queer neurodivergent people at a very vulnerable time in my life (i had just been unceremoniously removed from my turbulent friend group and would spend days at a time at school not speaking to anyone) i immediately decided to shed my more outspoken personality that would complain if someone did something i didn’t like, and allowed these people to cross my boundaries again and again, because to have friends, even if they were awful to me and made me feel like a burden for struggling, was better than being alone again. very long story short, 5 years after meeting them, i completely cut them off in 2024, but as they were my only point of social connection, i found myself becoming far more of a hermit than i ever wanted. but because of my history of constantly being harmed by people i met, i decided that friendship wasn’t worth it and that i didn’t want to get to know people if this was how i was going to be treated over and over again. i’ve been ignoring my own social needs for over half a year, trying to heal from the immense amount of pain caused by being ignored by my ‘friends’ whenever i clearly stated that i needed attention, i needed help that wasn’t going to end with me in the psychiatric ward (i have been forcibly incarcerated in the psychiatric ward and drugged upwards of 10 times). but your article, and my own self exploration with being a trans ? who likes to wear dresses and also loves being hairy and giving head to men is slowly reminding me that i can find people i care about again and who care about me, and your article has given me practical steps to do so. the realisation that i don’t have to orgasm to enjoy sex, or receive mutual physical stimulation from my partner has taken a burden off of my shoulders that i didn’t know was there. from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
wow thank you Anon. I have been through the ringer too and I understand those waves of isolating to protect oneself after having been subsumed by friend groups in the past and how impossible it can feel at times that youll ever find people you can really be open and yourself with. but they are there. oh my god are all the freaks out there each one a unique baffling configuration and you can find them and connect to them and build something for yourself from all those relationships and do your own thing and it can be great.
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I really appreciate you reblogging that post about how difficult it is to quit an addiction. I myself am currently struggling with a sugar/caffeine addiction, and I drink way too much coke cola (and if I can't get my hands on some, energy drinks). It's nice to be reminded that it's not just me who is constantly thinking about how good it would feel to have juuust a little more, even if I said I would stop. I've tried to quit it multiple times, and each failed attempt disheartens me greatly and makes me feel weak willed, even if I rationally know everyone battling an addiction has those moments.
Sugar addictions often aren't treated as seriously as the "scary" drugs or smoking, but it's just as damaging to your health and difficult to quit, especially when the human brain is hardwired to want sugary, fatty foods. I hope one day to be strong enough to resist those cravings and get my health back on track.
You can become addicted to anything that makes you feel good. People are getting addicted to AI chat bots for god's sake, it doesn't even have to be quality stuff as long as it gives you that rush of dopamine it can reel you in. Now, some things are better designed to addict you, drugs and alcohol, sugar and caffeine, but that doesn't mean you aren't still getting that good feeling. Even if you don't get it every time, even if you only get that hit the first time, humans will chase that first high for the rest of their lives. It's the reason people stay in abusive relationships, things will never be as good as they were at the start but there's this silent promise that they might be.
Anyone can become addicted to anything. And I'm not saying that to scare anyone, but more to make the point that no one is above addiction. Addiction is not a moral failing, or a weakness, it's a human survival tactic. We want the thing that makes us feel good, that keeps the loneliness at bay, that stops us from feeling bad things even if they do that by keeping us from feeling anything at all. Our brains want that dopamine shot, even when reasonably we know whatever is giving us that shot is bad for us.
Getting past an addiction is hard no matter what that addiction is. I try to tell people that they need to find something to redirect that craving towards. For one of my loved ones we're working on finding a painting class and a book club because they've realized that a lot of their relapsing comes from feeling lonely. For you, maybe having a chew fidget would help, or keeping fruit on hand, or (if you're like me) purging your house of all sugary snacks. I can't keep sugar in my house or I'll eat it, so I don't buy it. It sucks, I want it, but I know myself and I know that the best way to keep myself from doing something is to try and remove as much temptation as possible.
It's much harder for me to justify leaving my house to go get candy than it is for me to get up and get a chocolate from the pantry. Or if I really want a sweetie, I have to figure out making it myself. Which means I can try and figure out a healthier option to make. Idk it's a long road, and something like sugar/caffeine/alcohol is so ingrained in our society that it feels impossible to avoid.
I have a friend who used heroin (now clean, I'm so proud of her) and she always said the hardest part of recovery was giving a shit about herself. She said there was always going to be part of her that wanted to use, so she had to make the rest of her louder, had to find reasons to care enough not to go back to her old habits. She got a lot of tattoos during her recovery, reconnected with her mom.
Not to say that addicts don't care about themselves, or that you don't care about yourself, I always thought she meant it more in the way of a parent caring for a child. You know, you don't let kids do something just because they want to because you care about keeping them safe. In the same way you sort of have to parent yourself. Say you've got sugar at home even though you don't, promise you'll make yourself donuts and then quit as soon as you get home because you don't want to boil oil. Learn to make croissants and then never make them again because they're such a fucking hassle. idk
You're not weak because you have trouble telling yourself no, people generally have trouble with that. You're just a person trying to listen to your body. It's just too bad your body isn't always a great judge of what's good for it.
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i love taking my time. i love working slowly. i love creating things at my own pace
#something something i won’t over think my consistency on my sims four blog#i will i post when i am ready. it is not my job#because why do i stress about not posting quick or often enough. gah thats so silly ….#we’re all just here to have fun. i don’t need to worry about anything else other than having fun w this blog#anyway. say it with me. i love taking my time. i love working slowly. i love creating things at my own pace 🧘#this is me reminding not only myself but YOU too my friend!#all that being said i am working on things between life beating my ass. mwah 🫡
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She felt her phone vibrate, and figured that Javi had replied to her or her friends were checking in. Both were items she'd tend to in a bit, since she had chosen to engage in conversation with Nate. "You?" She asked incredulously, only because last night, he sounded so nonchalant about the cleaning crew taking care of it. It also didn't make much sense, his mother would surely have a fit seeing him like this. Though, that was almost an amusing thought. "That is pretty great, I have to admit." Ivette was intrigued, there was no denying. So, she stood up from her seat and followed after him. "How's the cleaning going then? Earlier start than right now? So you're an early bird." It was not even seven yet, and he had already been gone when she awoke. "I slept pretty well," she couldn't help but be truthful. "The air was fine, I didn't even realize the air conditioning unit had to be switched. So, you're clean up crew, maintenance. Is there something you don't do around here?"
It was a start. They were not lifelong friends that she'd share every single thing with, but they were exchanging more than a few words. So, hopefully that was the start of a good thing. It just didn't help that everything she had been keeping at bay for so many years, begged to be released now. "I wouldn't want to interrupt your cleaning routine. Unless you wanted food?"
Ivette turned in the direction of the whistle to see the hand asking Nate for some instruction, and hearing him reply in Spanish, it made her heart skip several beats. Oh, he sounded amazing in spanish, it made her weaker than she wanted to show. "Hm, okay yes. Breakfast would be great, if you let me help. As long as you give me some guidance, admittedly my cooking skills are not all that great."
As they headed towards the kitchen, she took a seat at the kitchen table while Nate spoke to another person. It'd only be a few minutes. Ivette took her phone and saw the familiar notification, opening the email, eager for her friend's wisdom. Reading the name she chose to give when asking for advice way back when made her smile. It did kind of feel like her name now. Though, she did feel bad that she was not being completely truthful with him. It was ironic how she was honest with him with her most vulnerable parts, but not the simple things like her real name.
I did promise to write when I got a chance. I also just had forgotten how much quicker email is over handwritten letters. Though, those were fun. It's not that I regret it, I just know it's not going to help in the long run. Even more so when I know it's not going anywhere. What stopped me, good question. Remembering that he left me was a big one. I've tried moving past that, but it hurts still. Last time I told him that, he still left. I think I'm serious Javi, I have been holding on to this because I don't know, even now - I wish he had loved me enough. But, like we've said before, I can't change someone's mind. So I guess, it'll just be a while before I can rip off the bandaid. I'm here for a few weeks. It is terrifying! Even more terrifying, I'm trying to be friends instead. I'm just unbelievable. You always know the right thing to say, it's amazing (and very scary sometimes). Just wish i could do a bit more to give back some of the help you've given me. How are you doing? You're also still front of line for that elixir. Everything going okay in your world, or more love troubles plaguing you? Thanks, you're the best. You remind me to be productive, I should do that too. But, I might've become a big fan of mojitos last night. True that, a moment to myself might clear my head. It's either that, or running back home.
His phone chimed in his back pocket and that had him stop what he was doing to tend to it. A bench across he saw and sat on it. Putting his feet up to lean over the arm to respond. A small smile crossed his features as he saw the email from his pen pal. The person who had become a friend in the months they'd started talking. The first thing that had him intrigued was how similar they were to each other. How their lives seemed so similar. They found common ground and that was the start of their friendship.
As he read the email he sighed and somehow this read like his feelings had spilled onto the page. Writing back was easier than he thought.
hey marina! I didn't think I'd hear from you since you went back home. But I'm glad to see you back in my email notifications.
Mistakes aren't often mistakes like people think they are. Do you regret what happened yesterday? If you went back would you regret it? You're not giving yourself any credit there. What stopped you? Was it your fear of knowing what he'd think and not what your mind would conjure up? The way I see it is if you're serious about moving on and getting over him then you'll need to put yourself first and rip the bandaid off. I know it's scary and I wish I could tell you that elixir is ready because you know I'd be the first to take it. But, you're hurting yourself by not being honest. Don't do it for him but for you. You deserve a chance to move on from the pain.
Thanks, believe it or not going to try to be productive. I hope you have a good day despite having to see him around. Remember; you're not stuck there. If you need to take the moment for yourself and leave if it gets too hard.
With that he put his phone back in his pocket and got right on moving the trash bags out of the walkway. The task at hand had him so focused that he nearly missed Ivette's voice. Slowly turning his head, he chuckled and dropped the bags at his feet. "You'd think huh, but no. You're looking at it. Cleaning crew is me. I am the cleaning crew." he smiled as he picked up the bags again and gestured her to follow him if she wanted to keep talking. "Usually get an earlier start but we went to bed later. Which is okay, still getting it done. How did you sleep? Was the air okay in the room? I have yet to change the air conditioning in the room. Working my way toward it."
Being friends should be easy but he knew that everytime he'd look at her his heart would thump. "I know it's early but did you want food? I can make the kitchen my next stop?"
"Chavo," the hand whistled and asked him where he wanted the tables. Nate turned and laughed, "dejalo ahi. Dame dos horas y lo pongo atras." Nate looked back at Ivette and smiled. "Okay, hungry?"
#rancho nate hellooooo indeed!!!#sad crew we need to make t-shirts tambien#ivette aqui confessing to pen pal 🤭🤭
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I hope everyone whos walked behind me today has acknowledged the fact ive just been staring at rivals magneto for the past hour
#snap chats#new title at school ‘guy with the kirby geadphones and nice outfits and looks at pictures of magneto and professor x all day’#a friend invaded my Magneto Staring timr and assaulted my ears she was SO MEAN TO ME TODAY#she always mean to me tbh ….. she thinks im a weirdo for being an introvert like girl i cannot physically make you understand my brain#i asked the universe to be nice to me today and instead i get called an unlovable cat that’ll get returned to the shelter after a day OK#ALSO I TOLD HER I WAS 23 NEXT MONTH AND SHE SAID TWINK DEATH?????#THATS NOT. i was so appalled. what is she talking about im not ……. ok……….#had to delicately remind her she’ll be 23 soon too like Girl 💀💀💀💀💀#and then i told her i wad filipino and she was like ‘oh are you onea those whove never been to your home country’#ok well Miss Ma’am i regret to inform you the us of a IS my home country#its so lame tho cause all my sibs got to go to the philippines before i was born 😭😭😭😭 this family HATES ME#‘like idk just the way you talk….’ we TALK THE SAME. YOU AND I ARE ON THE EAST COAST /WHAT/#‘snap was this just an excuse to rant’ NO. i jus wanted to say i wanna play rivals ……. also eriks very handsome in that game….#but like we know that i can only repeat myself so many times …#anyway ima finish this fuckass lunch so i can actually finish my shit so i can MAYBE. look at magneto in-game BYE
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#brooo how do you join small fandoms that operate as established friend groups as a newcomer I've only been on the “establishing” end 😭#like toku//twt is so hostile save for certain mutual circles idk how to integrate myself anywhere#doesn't help that I've had no energy for drawing lately to maybe get ppl to interact first#maybe I should try do smth for the next gavv episode...#I would like to just talk to ppl directly but I've only watched 2 seasons and am shy. plus there's so many random rude ppl#that many accs limit replies anyway. fuck my stupid Baka life#I crave... human connection XO *dies of embarrassment*#I'll just try posting more w keywords for now#I don't wanna start too many new kr seasons if I can't discuss them w ppl while doing so cause the excitement is too much to be alone w#in the meantime I might pick up android kikaider after finishing w tho so I have smth to do#plus I've been meaning to get into showa era toku anyway that was like... the whole point originally#man this reminds me of how I need to interact w spg more too. I have so many cool spg moots I'm in a limbo between coexisting and wanting t#befriend#aauadhkf the mortifying ideal of being knownnn#psii.txt
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this is my little girl 💖



she’s running low on time with us, and my dad has been saying things along the lines of ‘this is why I don’t like pets’, because he finds the grieving process so hard.
I don’t fault him for that, he just feels loss deeply and deals with it differently.
sometimes I even find myself falling briefly into the same thinking. ‘what if making a different choice all those years ago saved me and my family from this grief and this pain?’
but I also know there’s no way I would make a different decision. no amount of grief could outweigh the joy she’s brought us over these last fifteen years. the laughter, the comfort, the connection.
I think about hikes with my dad when she was tiny and able bodied and would race up ahead of us on the trails and then race back to check on us. I think about the first time she saw snow and she instantly turned into a tiny fluffy bunny rabbit, hopping through drifts that were ankle deep for us but nearly buried her, and the matted snowballs she came away with, looking like a tiny curly haired yeti.
I think of her interrupting GrammE and John’s wedding along with Sagie, confusion turning into laughter as they sped after each other across the backyard ceremony. I think of my mom, lonely on the island and isolated during covid, telling me that Ginger was her saving grace.
and these don’t even scratch the surface. fifteen years of love she’s given us.
so yeah. losing her is going to damn near break me and I know that. but I wouldn’t change it for the world.
#you don’t have to read the post I just want people to look at my baby#if you have non-human family members give them a little extra love#I’m trying so hard to remind myself that not only have these last fifteen years been a gift#but these last six months or so have been a straight up miracle#I love her so much#I worry about how my mom is going to cope with her loss#she’s my best friend but she’s lived with my mom since my mom moved out#and so she’s been a daily companion to her and part of all of her routines#on one hand I’m relieved because caring for a dog especially an aging and disabled one#is a lot of work and my mom herself is already disabled and needs additional help#(and sometimes that resulted in me worrying that both of them weren’t getting proper care for their health)#but on the other hand I do think Ginge had been the biggest part of combating loneliness for my mom#especially after losing Tan#anyway I’m uh maybe crying too much to type now so I’m gonna call it#but I might post more photos of my little old lady baby over the next few days#because I love her and I think other people should too lol#personal#tw pet death#tw pet loss#(she’s not gone yet to be clear but I’m tagging these for other people’s sake bc I know it’s upsetting)#(she’s in the final days/weeks of kidney failure just in case anyone is wondering why I’m making assumptions about her passing)#toy poodle#poodle#pet#dog#puppy
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they call me the griever because halfway through a thing I enjoy I’m already sad that it’s closer to being over
#blue chatter#trying to work on not doing this#and just enjoying the thing in the moment#this happens to me a lot with school breaks and such#like ‘oh I love being on spring break but I’m sad bc I’m already 3 days in’#‘oh I love summer vacation so far it’s too bad it’s already a month over’#and I’m like NO!!!!! blue!!!!!!!! you’re missing the point!!!!!!!!#you have the joy *right now* and you are SPOILING IT bc you’re too busy looking ahead to when it will be gone!!!!!!!!!#it happens with friend visits a lot. it’s less bad now but it still happens.#like. the first time I visited friends over spring break I woke up in the early morning of the last morning and just cried#because I only had a few hours left before I had to get on the plane home#and I start hurriedly stuffing seconds and minutes into my mouth and refusing to swallow#because maybe if I just cling extra hard then the time won’t pass-#but it does pass. and that’s okay. and I know that’s okay because life had more joyful things after that moment#had I stayed there on that day I would have been frozen as a much more miserable person#my friends themselves would have been very different people#I mean. fuck. between then and now two of us figured out our genders. both of them got married. they moved somewhere else now.#there’s a lot of little joys that got left behind there. a church they loved. a local park. mountains and windy streets.#but I wouldn’t hold ourselves there. which I try to remind myself when I start crying about lost time again#because yeah. this will end someday. human lifespans aren’t infinite.#but the future is full of life I still have to live. there’s no saying that I can’t have good things again.#and this period of my life is rapidly rushing towards a much more uncertain future and I know that and it’s scary#I know I have about 11 months to make several very adult decisions that will determine a lot of my future#but no matter what I choose this period of my life is not wasted#and I don’t need to hurriedly optimize every second and mourn losing them#and I know that. and I still feel sad and mourny. but that might be more indicative that I’m hungry or smth.
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dating an art student was so crazy I'm just thinking abt that one birthday I had where my ex got me stickers from the etsy of the person they were cheating on me with....
#they made them address the thank you note to me and everything ajskfjfkfb. i didnt know they were cheating at the time but wow...#every time i break out my sticker collection and see them im reminded of it. but i cant throw out the stickers theyre deltarune ones 😭#like they were a rly cool artist.... just unfortunate that happened 💀#the drama was insane. my ex only wanted to sleep with them but they (other person) wanted them to break up with me so they could date#but my ex dumped them rly harshly for suggesting that i guess 'romantic' cheating was a step too far even for them lmaooo#i heard abt their breakup secondhand and god could they be cruel sometimes. they made fun of the sex theyd had w them#to all their mutual friends n everything i actually felt so bad for the other person when i found out. at least our breakup wasnt that bad#i only finally got that cruel side of them directed towards me like a year after when they wanted us to stop being friends#but yeah. its also funny in a way bc my ex only suggested i had adhd bc the other person did too + struggled a lot with rsd#which i guess they found out when they broke up with them. and then looked at that and thought huh my gf is kind of similar...#and this was like. 2 years before i even considered i had adhd myself and sought diagnosis ahdkfidjcjdjfjfjfkdbfnf#this made me go look the other persons art page up on instagram + then i recognised some of their friends/flatmates art pages and i found#their (my exs that is) grad year film which is still being shown at animation festivals... good for them good for them#i dont think they have an art page themselves tho cuz they were always v shy and weird abt sharing art on social media#like everyone else except them is tagged on things... shame i wouldve liked to see what they were making now. even if we're not friends#also one of their old roommates made some REALLY similar squid game fanart to mine like a month after i posted it huh..#not mad abt it or anything i think its cool i just didnt realise they showed my art to their friends. thats cute#ah this was years ago anyway. getting my head out of the rabbit hole#im gonna go play some elden ring and then maybe do smth fun in my sketchbook we shall seeee#.diaries
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HI TUMBLRR it’s me
#I ate ramen just now it was soooo god I think ramen is just it just is better after 10pm#im right#ughhh ok that actually reminded me earlier my classmate was making an Asian people eat dogs joke like he put on this awful accent and he wa#all like ‘dog tastes so good with rice’ and then he did other stuff too#but what really made me upset is that someone who I thought was my friend found it really humorous! wow okay!#I know it’s not really a big deal but im still kind of sad like I’ve lost all my respect for you now#anddd they were my only friend in the class so now I’m stuck there for the rest of the semester I guess . I mean I’ll still be nice to them#but I just don’t think I can bring myself to like them anymore sorryyy . not really . but kind of#idk if I’m overreacting . in elementary school though people would make jokes actually about me eating dog and it always made me really sad#but I never held it against them cause we were children#but now I feel like you’re old enough to know what you’re laughing at..#wow ok this really derived away from me being on tumblr and having just ate the worlds best ramen#well . not really I mean it was good but I’m allergic to normal noodles and I need to eat rice noodles and they’re not bad I just don’t lik#them as much Lol#I feel like my actual posts say nothing but if anyone ever reads the tags they probably know everything about me..#I use tumblr to complain half the time loll and I used to post my drawings more but I haven’t made any good drawings recently😭😭😭BUT WAIT!#i have a comic I’ll post in October we’ll see how far I am in it by then…#im like . halfway done with chapter oneeeee so maybe like I’ll post all of chapter one on hallowern.. how does that sound… cause actually#for those of you who don’t know my story has ghosts in it#im like trying to keep it a little silly right now but the tone might shifftttt idk!!!!! we’ll seeeeeeee cause actually I have NOT worked#out the entire plot.. just like. most of it.#but I keep having ideas like midway through ughhh it’s an endless cycle!!!!!#like Francis . she used to be a random character who shows up once but then I was like . wait no! anjali should have ghost friends! and tha#that’s how Francis came to be#and actually today I kind of finalized her design^_^ albeit in my math notebook lol
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working with children really will make you examine your thought processes and emotional reactions like nothing else. I've found myself being so much more thoughtful in my daily life about how I respond to my emotions and environment, as well as the reasoning behind why others behave the way they do
#yesterday i got really frustrated and overwhelmed at one point because this one little girl keeps getting really upset when she cant help me#like shell ask to help and i wont have a task (or ive run out bc shes already helped) shes capable of so i tell her that#and thank her for being thoughtful and helpful. admittedly the first time this happened i was really frustrated w her already#bc she had made a huge mess doing something i told her not to do and then didnt want to clean it up and she only came back#and asked to help because her friend had been helping me. so i was like girl. you didnt even clean up the last mess#but i also had nothing for her to do. anyway she started screaming and hid under a table so then her friend did it sith her just. because.#idk kids will see their friend freaking out and they do it too. and i understand it but my god. i dont deal well with really loud noise#and she did it again yesterday. i let her help me and then i ran out of tasks and she started crying and saying i never let her help#and for some reason there were like 6 other kids in there all wanting to help so then several of them started freaking out#and i could not handle it. i literally told my coworker like im about to cry right now lmao#and later the little girl was like wanting to hug me and talk to me and acting like nothing happened and i found myself wanting to withdraw#like i was feeling like i wanted to avoid her and not speak to her or be cold but i also knew i didnt want to treat her that way#and i took a couple minutes by myself and thought about why i felt that way‚ what the effects of that would be‚ and how the kid felt#and i really just had to remind myself that she was feeling just as many emotions as i was but that shes only had 6 years#to learn how to manage them and deal with them in a productive way. she wasnt trying to upset me. she wasnt trying to make me mad#she was just dealing with her emotions in the only way she knew how. and im an adult and if she can get over it i really need to get over it#long ass tag story sorry
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GRRRRRRR I hate how wulbren makes barcus feel like he's lesser. it's so clear that he's an abusive, manipulative shithead who doesn't care about an utter sweetheart like barcus. but he probably is nice to barcus here and there, when he needs something, and barcus clings to those moments despite everything. poor guy fucking feels the need to make excuses for wulbren and is so clearly broken up when wulbren barely gives him the time of day after all the HELL he's been through. shit that he would have easily died from, had your PC not come to his aid. I fucking hate wulbren so fucking much. rot and die, asshole.
#bg3#bg3 spoilers#thoughts about media#I want to be more articulate but it is 4 am.#wulbren literally reminds me of a shitty friend I used to know.#was friends with her for 10 years. and I did the same thing. I took her bullshit for a Long time. made excuses. clung to the good moments.#I tried to change myself to make her happier too. and what did I get? the same bullshit poor barcus got.#I fucking cannot WAIT to give wulbren what he fucking deserves.#cause barcus has been through hell and fucking back for this fucking wad of used toilet paper.#barcus you deserve so much better my darling. please join my gay polycule. astarion only bites corydalis. I promise.
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Which ninjago characters do you ship?
i kinda default to platonic friends in a group like that if i dont have strong opinions on ships, but the stuff undercover at that bar with snake jaguar and rocky dangerbuff did make me think zane and cole were pretty cute, so if i had to pick a ship, probably that one. and i love the idea of qpr zane and pixal too, that is extremely good to me, so the three of them poly in some way is cute but i havent actually thought about it too much.
i dont think theres really any pairings ive seen around tumblr that i hate though, (other than i dont ship lloyd with any of the other ninja bc im pretty sure hes a lot younger, although if im honest i dont remember all the timeline details of the show)
#the only one i dont super like is jay and cole but thats just bc i really love their besties dynamic i struggle to see them as a ship#thats more like i cant personally see it rather than disliking it cause i do really like them as platonic best friends#honestly to give you more than this id have to go back and remind myself of all the dynamics cause i hadnt really thought about it#i also dont know how old morro is ive seen him shipped with ppl too i assume hes the same age ish as the main 4 and not like. 25 or smethin#i do KIND of think kai and jay is p cute i havent put much thought into it but i think theyd be the sort to use bro and babe interchangeabl#and thats very funny to me#ask#ninjago#is that my tag i forgor i think so#maybe ill start a#ninjago stuff#tag for misc
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