#what does that say about meeeeee???

[thirteenemeraldcats]

10 characters from 10 fandoms!

tagged by @abubblingcandle and @kvetchinglyneurotic who are both so ridiculously talented as writers and SO ridiculously lovely as people that i am forever building metaphorical statues in their honour and tossing roses at their feet as they bow on the stage

Jamie Tartt (Ted Lasso)

Dick Grayson (DC)

Neal Caffrey (White Collar)

Prince Zuko (ATLA)

Peter Parker (Marvel Comics)

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless (The Sandman)

Buffy Summers (BTVS)

Spock (Star Trek)

Westley (The Princess Bride)

Donna Noble (Doctor Who)

I HAVE NO IDEA WHO HASN'T BEEN TAGGED!! (AGAIN!!) going to boop with no pressure @nativestarwrites @sighonaraa @fanficfanattic @orbitalpirate @anguishmacgyver @jamiepoptart

[not-equippedforthis]

forever mourning how granada holmes never adapted the three garridebs. diabolical. unbelievable, even. 'if you had killed watson you would not have made it out of this room alive' but in brett's frightfully intense and low, biting, hissing voice. the violent, wild stare versus the gentle hand on watson's knee. all of that precarious control getting flung out the window. the humanity of it. gritting my teeth can you fucking imagine.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

I THOUGHT SHURO WAS SO COOL AND RELATABLE, I DIDN'T KNOW THE FANDOM DIDN'T LIKE HIM??? WHAT??

[dunmeshistash]

Okay I think I'm ready to write the second part of this post about Milsiril

To make it easier for me I'll just divide this into her relationship with Kabru, Mithrun and Helki (her ex-canary prisoner teammate)

First about Kabru

This is an extra from the daydream hour 5. The caption says "Something like this might as well have happened" so its probably not canon but could be. I honestly think his reaction to Milsiril visiting and being overbearing says a lot about the type of relantionship they have. This is the fakest bitch in the whole of dungeon meshi, he never says what he trully thinks unless there's an advantage to doing so, he's a people pleaser that does and says anything to make people like/trust him. And yet he immediatly converts into "Mooooooom you're embarassing meeeeee" when he sees it's Milsiril.

This translation used "Mom" but as I understand the original he uses the more formal version so I think it would be closer to "Mother" but still he acknowleges her as his Mother, and he acts like her kid in every interaction we see between them.

I really don't understand where the idea that he learned to be fake from being "forced" to be her adoptive son comes from.

(Continuing under a cut)

The other interaction we see between them is the Kabru extra from the Adventurer's Bible

Kabru comes to her with a deep fear he clearly has had even before she adopted him, he trusted her with this fear and she did not disappoint him, she comforted him and then gave him the information he needed to believe what she was saying

I'd also like to point out in no moment she discouraged him from calling his his bio-mom "Mom". He also says she taught her children everything they asked

I doubt this would only be true for him, it also mirrors something she said in the manga

"You can go ahead and learn all you want about something else." I believe it when Kabru says she made every effort to answer her children's questions. I think this is also the way she expresses the love she has for them. Plus I love the thought bubble with Kabru mirroring what he learned from her. I also love this daydream hour, she sacrifices her own comfort to do something for Kabru.

Milsiril isn't a perfect mother tho, besides the fact she is overprotective she comes from a very different culture from her children. I like to call her Kabru's white mom cause I think that would be the real world equivalent. This extra is the one I think the most about showing this context perfectly

Kabru wants to share Utaya sweets but looks at his mom looking gloomy/rejected so he talks about fruitcake instead. This very rude for Milsiril to do since she's kinda trying to overwrite his actual cultural background, but I think its done more as a "I want you to like the things I like" rather than something nefarious, and once again Kabru doesn't hide at all his distaste for it, he does the bare minimum to please his mom since she's being dramatic but he doesn't lie to her, he shows how displeased he is about fruitcake, something he refuses to do when eating the harpy omelette that is way worse, because he must make a good impression for Laios. Kabru is honest with his overbearing white mom once again.

Now a little about Rin, from Kabru's context, this is her extra in the Adventurer's Bible

(look at Helki he's such a gremlin i love him) anyway, Rin has a trauma about elves, they really mistreated her so she hates them, but when they notice she isn't thriving they go to Milsiril for help (Helki specifically I'll talk more about him next). I think this indicates she really has a better understanding of short lived kids, her kids are thriving differently from the ones the other elves try to care for. I'd also like to remember she lives secluded from other elves so while Kabru probably had lots of interactions with elves during his life, most of it was probably spent with Milsiril and her other adoptive kids. She also asks Kabru if he would do this to help Rin, he isn't being forced or anything, I also think it's good that Milsiril knows she cant take in any more kids, this to me shows she's worried about the quality of life her kids have. That is all to say, Rin is the one with elf trauma, not Kabru, because Kabru had Milsiril to shelter him from them.

Helki

This will be short and sweet since there's barely anything about Helki, he's her prisioner companion from her time in the canaries, but he was pardoned after Utaya, it says so in the Canarie's Structure page in the new adventurer's guide but I cant really find it translated again... so here's google's machine translation (I remember it saying "Retired and pardoned as a reward after Utaya", something like that)

so officially he isn't a prisoner anymore, but I think he still works as a canary, even so he and Milsiril seem quite close, he is the one to go talk to her about Rin, He is there when she's training Kabru (both laughing at Kabru and then participating). I saw people theorizing she stays close to him because he is also someone who she can feel superior to, but I don't believe it at all, he's STILL in contact with her even after they have nothing to with each other, I think they really have a friendship, and there's no point where it seems like she feels like she's better than him or that he's less than her, people seem to interpret Milsiril and her relationships in the worst possible ways every time and I don't understand why.

This segways into Mithrun

I've also seen people assuming she only got close to Mithrun because now he needs her and has no power over her, once again with the theory that Milsiril surrounds herself with people she can feel superior to. But once again, Milsiril had a change of perspective about Mithrun after seeing his Dungeon

Rather than she feeling superior to him I think rather she realized he was just like her. (And I think she's friends with Helki for a similar reason, it's probably easier to see him as an equal than other nobles)

I've also seen this part used as proof of that. "He said that you've got suspicious ulterior motives and that I shouldn't listen to you" as if that's true, but this is past Mithrun, the one that didn't trust anyone and thought ill of all his teammates, ofc he doesn't believe someone would help him without an ulterior motive. This doesn't prove much about her real motivations.

Also before she showed up, Mithrun was being cared for by servants hired by his brother, he isn't someone helpless she has power over, he is still a member of an important Noble family that has a caring brother providing for him, he can do without Milsiril, he had done without her for 20 years before Utaya happened and she quit the Canaries.

This is all to say I think Milsiril is just a white(elf) adoptive mom doing her best, I don't see much of anything nefarious about her or her motivations, she is flawed as all the dunmeshi characters are, she isn't a perfect mom, she isn't an evil mom, she's just a person.

Elves in general also see short lived species as "children" so I imagine this makes her "You'll always be my baby" attitude way worse, she really treats pre-teen/teen Kabru like he's a toddler sometimes. But she also respected him enough to go all out in training him. I think they're a family with everything that entails.

PS: I didn't get much into Interracial adoption since this is something that happens irl too and I don't know much about all the issues that entails, but in the end, in this case, it seems like a net positive for the kids she adopts considering all we see about how she raised Kabru.

[stllmnstr]

sure thing – part one.

pairing: yang jungwon x f reader

genre: coworkers au, underground boxer jungwon

part one word count: 12.9k

warnings: swearing, descriptions/depictions of physical violence, blood and minor injuries, jealousy, a bit of a love triangle I’m SORRY, blonde boxer jungwon because yes I think that does warrant a warning, I had to split this into 2 parts because post block limit got me everyone say BOOOOO TUMBLR!!!!!!

note: this is what happens when you watch the no doubt music video and then also listen to too much chase atlantic. ALSO let me duck before the sacred monsters readers start throwing tomatoes at me I PROMISE I am working on part 4 I just... had this idea and it would not leave me alone. but cheers to another fantastic enhypen release (daydream and no doubt are both on repeat for meeeeee) and to my first jungwon fic. enjoy!

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

An employee in the marketing department of a large company, your days are filled with poorly worded emails, unrealistic deadlines, and passive aggressive friendly reminders from your superiors. On a particularly awful afternoon, a chance encounter with a coworker from the programming department down the hall is the first thing to make you smile in weeks.

But the more you uncover about Yang Jungwon and his mysterious injuries, flimsy excuses, and always occupied Friday nights, the more you begin to realize that you really don’t know him at all.

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

The printer is jammed.

It takes a very exaggerated eye roll and an embarrassing amount of self control to refrain from kicking the damn thing. Besides, you’re pretty sure your previous wording was too kind. 

Because a more accurate depiction of the situation would be:

The printer is jammed. Again. 

You’re not sure which cruel deity is responsible for the creation of Monday afternoons, but you’re sure they’re laughing at you now. Dressed in business casual and praying against all odds that the clock hanging on the office wall will start ticking a little faster, you almost wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Spare you from your misery 

And it’s not like a jammed printer is the end of the world. From a logical, unbiased point of view, you’re sure it’s nothing but a small, easily solvable problem. 

But it’s four pm on a Monday afternoon and you’ve had back-to-back meetings since you clocked in at eight this morning. The only real break you had lasted twelve minutes. Most of which were spent dabbing coffee stains from your blouse after Terry from accounting knocked into you in the staff kitchen. 

Your head is pounding and your feet are aching and your bladder is overly full and your left bra strap is starting to dig into your shoulder in a way that is entirely too overstimulating. 

And you really, really just need this report to print. 

After all, your boss made it very clear that you would not be clocking out for the day, no matter what hour of the evening it is, until said document is laid on his desk. Never mind the fact that you weren’t made aware of this demand until a handful of hours ago. 

So yeah, the printer jamming – again – does kind of feel like the end of the world. 

The screen is still flashing with an angry reminder to fix the paper jam in Tray 2. The instructions are starting to blur a little as you furiously blink away hot tears. 

You won’t cry at work. You won’t.

But your exhaustion is catching up with you, and the first thing it usually takes with it is your control over your emotions. 

The more you try to will them away, the more insistently they want to escape. 

Bent over the printer, you’re in the middle of trying to dislodge a particularly stubborn piece of A4 when the first tear finally does escape. It falls in a thick, wet train down the length of your cheek, settling for a moment at the base of your chin before dripping, a little pathetically, right onto the stack of papers in the printer tray. 

Your hands go slack on the sheet you’re warring with. 

For a moment, all you can do is sigh. Hang your head and hope some higher power takes pity on you. 

Stressed, burnt out, overworked. This was not how you thought you’d be spending your early twenties. But a salary is a salary, and fighting with an inanimate object on the worst day of the week keeps your lights on and your stomach full. 

Hunched over, you’re suddenly glad that the printer is kept in a separate room outside of the main office space. That there are no witnesses to your slightly pathetic meltdown.

Save for a few, it’s not like you care all that much about what your coworkers think of you. But the last thing you need to add to this day is a fresh bout of humiliation. 

Just one more minute, you tell yourself. One more minute of silence before you pull yourself together and finish dislodging the stupid piece of paper. 

It must be at least 4:10 by now, which means you have less than an hour to go. You can do it. You can. You just need one more minute of silen–

“Everything okay?” 

The sudden intrusion is so startling that your head jerks up in a subconscious reaction. Only, of course, to be met with the open printer tray you’re currently trying to troubleshoot. 

The clunk that echoes through the tiny printer room as your temple comes in direct contact with hard plastic is almost as loud as it is painful. 

“Ah,” you wince, hand instinctively flying to the side of your head. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, ____.” You’re not sure if your hesitation comes from embarrassment or the fact that you head is still spinning. Either way, you’re slow to move as you look up at your sudden audience. 

Over your shoulder, Yang Jungwon has nothing but apologies written all over his delicate features. Brow pulling into a concerned frown, he’s quick to kneel to your level. 

If anyone was going to find you like this, you suppose you’re glad it was him. A recent hire fresh out of university, Jungwon has carved out a quiet kind of reputation for himself in the office. 

His presence isn’t commanding, but it is steady. The kind of person that you never see get worked up or angry or even annoyed no matter how many last minute deadlines are assigned or how many printers get jammed when he really needs to use them. 

And from what you’ve gathered, he mostly keeps to himself. It’s not from a lack of effort on your coworkers’ behalf. You know firsthand that he’s been invited to multiple post work gatherings and weekend events. 

His popularity doesn’t exactly surprise you. Even with his quiet demeanor, he has a striking presence. One that makes you curious, leaves you wanting to know more. 

Never mind the fact that he’s absolutely gorgeous. 

Still, despite their efforts, you also know that he’s politely declined each and every invitation without ever giving any real explanation. 

In all honesty, you’ve always just assumed there was a girlfriend he was eager to run home to. 

But even that is nothing more than a mindless assumption. After all, you’ve only had a few interactions with him, and nothing beyond the typical small talk all office workers develop a talent for. 

Even now, he makes the simple button down and slacks he’s wearing look like they came right from a runway. 

You’re not quite sure why, but it almost makes you want to cry harder. 

At the very least, you’re pretty sure you don’t need to worry about rumors of you having a minor meltdown in the printer room spreading through the office. Jungwon might be a hot topic of office gossip, but he’s not one to spread it.

“I am so sorry,” he repeats, “I didn’t mean to startle you.” His words are spilling out a bit too fast, blurring into each other around the edges. “I just saw you in here, and I couldn’t tell if you were okay or not, so I wanted to–”

“Jungwon,” you interrupt. There’s no kind way of telling him that his rambling is only making your headache worse. That it’s only making your tears fall faster. Instead, you abet his misplaced guilt. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

A bit shakily, you muster up your most convincing smile. But your smudged mascara, slightly puffy eyelids, and still visible tear track suggest otherwise. 

Jungwon’s brow just pulls together a little further. “Are you sure?” He’s unconvinced. Taking a wary glance at the printer tray, he looks back to you with concern in his eyes. “That sounded like it hurt.”

“Really,” you force another weak smile. “I’m sure.”

“Can I at least take a look at it?” Guilt is still written plain as day across his face. 

Assuming he’s referring to the printer, you nod before taking one big scooch to the side. Within the confines of this tiny room, it only puts you closer to him. 

And it takes less than a second for you to realize your assumption was wrong. Because Jungwon doesn’t reach for that stupid piece of A4 still jammed inside Tray 2 or even the printer tray that just nearly concussed you. 

No, instead, his long fingers trek a steady path towards your hand. The one that still rests against your temple. Gently, he pries it away, replacing it with his own careful touch.

You’re all but immobile as gentle fingers press lightly against the side of your face, adjusting it slightly. His fingers are cool, soothing as he turns your injury towards the overhead light. 

Pliant in his hands, it’s all you can do to watch as his brow furrows in concentration, eyes scanning over your skin. Taking the skin of your bottom lip between your teeth, you pray he doesn’t notice the sudden heat in your cheeks. 

From this angle, with this proximity, you can practically count his eyelashes. They’re long, you notice. Long and wispy where they frame his dark eyes. 

“No broken skin,” he finally asserts. You can feel his breath against your skin. It takes nearly all your concentration to suppress the shiver that threatens to trace your spine. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if it bruises. There’s a bit of swelling, too. Keep an eye on it these next few days, and let me know if it doesn’t go down on its own.” 

You’re not exactly sure if Jungwon – quiet, gentle Jungwon – would be the first person you’d go to for first aid advice, but you nod anyway. 

And you’re not sure where it comes from, the sudden urge to cry again. But somewhere between the pain in your head and the soft probing of his fingers against your skin, emotions are starting to bubble beneath your stoic facade. 

It’s subtle, barely perceivable, but you can feel your bottom lip beginning to quiver. 

Much to your unending humiliation, you’re not the only one who notices. 

You’re not sure how he does, but he does. 

“Hey,” Jungwon tries. His hand is still on your face. His voice is impossibly soft, and it only makes you want to cry harder. You feel like a skittish kitten he’s trying to lure in from a rainstorm. 

His lips part as if he’s going to continue. They fall shut again before he can. 

Something in his brow softens. Concern is replaced with empathy. 

Hand falling back to his side, he suddenly changes the subject. “You’re in the marketing department, right?”

Lips still trembling, you turn your eyes towards the floor before giving him a small nod.  

From this angle, the only thing you see are his shoes. Standard leather work shoes, they’re slightly scuffed where they rest against the carpet. 

They still look formal, of course. Nothing that would raise any eyebrows in a professional setting. And from far away, you’re sure they appear pristine. 

But from this close, you can make out all sorts of rough edges. Little marks and dents and scuffs that serve as evidence of where he’s been. 

“Why don’t you head home for the day,” Jungwon suggests gently from above you. “I’ll let your team and your supervisor know that you’re not feeling well.” 

You take a deep breath, do your best to make sure your voice is steady before you respond. Shaking your head, you point out, “It’s almost the end of the day anyway–”

“Exactly,” Jungown nods, kind but firm. “There’s nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

“Actually,” you grimace, trying not to let the truth inspire another round of tears. “I need the report I was trying to print. I have to turn it in before I leave today.”

There’s a beat of silence. You’re worried that Jungwon will keep offering you too much kindness, so you rush to fill it. “It’s fine, though. I think the paper jam is almost fixed, and I already sent the report to the printer, so I’m sure it will come through in a minute–”

“Perfect,” Jungwon interrupts again. “I’ll take it to your boss, then. Alan, right? I’ve spoken with him before. I’ll also let him know that you went home for the day.”

“Jungwon, you don’t have to–”

“I know.” At the interruption, your eyes snap back to him. There’s an intensity in his eyes when you match his gaze. Something so sincere that it’s hard to look away. Even though you know your eyes are still shiny with tears you wish you’d hidden better. Even if the stress and exhaustion and weariness are probably written plain as day across your features.

“I know,” he repeats. “I want to. Go home and get some rest, okay?”

It’s probably stupid, to agree so easily. But something in his eyes has you believing, even if just for a moment, that everything will be just fine if you do what he suggests. That all of your concerns and worries will work themselves out and you’ll be able to come into the office tomorrow feeling refreshed for once. For the first time in a long time. 

So you nod. You let him help you up off the floor and don’t bother hiding your face as you wipe the last of your unshed tears from your eyelashes. It probably only smudges your mascara further, but you can’t find it in yourself to care about that, either. 

The printer is still jammed and your report isn’t turned in and you’ll have to walk past your entire team back to your desk to get your things on your way out. 

But for this fleeting moment, those worries feel small. Distant. Manageable. Able to be tucked away and saved for later. 

You still don’t know much about Jungwon. The only knowledge you have comes from speculation and wishful thinking. But now, more than ever, you really wish you knew something of substance. 

But you have no idea how to tell him that. Don’t know if you even should. So instead, you say what you can. 

“Thank you, Jungwon.”

For a moment, all he does is smile. It’s small, but it reaches his eyes. Makes them sparkle a little brighter. 

His voice, like the rest of him, is gentle when he says, “Sure thing, ___.”

…..

Despite the fact that it accounts for roughly eighty percent of your job, you prefer to avoid your email inbox like the plague. 

Most days, by the time you do get around to checking it, it’s already jam packed with unreasonable requests and last-minute changes and passive aggressive friendly reminders from your superiors. 

When you sit down at your desk on Tuesday morning, you’re extra reluctant. After the printer fiasco yesterday, you’re feeling particularly sensitive to all of the potential bullshit. And you have the distinct feeling that a rather nasty message about leaving the office early unannounced is surely waiting for you. 

But the inevitable can only be delayed so long. With a wince and a final swig of coffee, you muster the courage to give the mail icon on your desktop a double click. 

The top of your inbox is filled with the usual nonsense. A request for a meeting tomorrow morning on a project idea you’ve had finalized for months. An RSVP form for the optional, but highly encouraged, upcoming staff party. A reminder from your boss that final quarterly reports need to be submitted by Friday at the latest. 

A few lines down, though, something out of the ordinary catches your eye. Checking the time stamp, you see that it was sent right as the day started. 

From: yangj@vesselsoft.co 

Subject: Printer Issue Follow-Up

Contemplating for a moment, you frown. The first floor of Vesselsoft is no stranger to printer jams. They’re typical occurrences, not major problems to be resolved via email. You didn’t think there was a printer issue to follow up on. 

But it’s far more intriguing than anything else on your work account. So, ignoring all of the other messages, you open the email from Jungwon. 

Good morning ____, 

I hope you’re doing well. I wanted to let you know that the workroom printer jam has been fixed, and your report was delivered safe and sound yesterday evening. I also wanted to check in and see how your head is feeling. 

Best, 

Jungwon

You reread it. Once. Twice. 

It’s a simple message, all things considered. But it has you searching for subtext where there likely isn’t any. If anything, this serves as a confirmation of what you already knew about Jungwon. 

He’s kind. Considerate. The type of person that would help you fix a jammed printer and check in on you the next morning. Right when he clocks in. 

The type that could probably tell that your head was the least of your concerns yesterday, but still chooses to ask how you’re doing  without drawing excess attention to it. 

For a moment, you almost wish he would make a habit of attending after hours work events. You have the distinct feeling that sucking up to your superiors would be a little less awful if someone like him was around to do it with you. 

From: You

To: yangj@vesselsoft.co

Subject: Re: Printer Issue Follow-Up

Good morning Jungwon, 

Thank you for resolving that printer issue! And thank you for checking in. My head is feeling much better today. 

Thanks again, 

____

After a final once over, you press the send button, watching as the animation shows the message flying out from your inbox. 

You imagine it flying into his. It’s subconscious, the way you start to picture what his face will look like when he sees it. 

You know he’s in the programming department, which is on the same floor as your office. Honestly, you’re a bit surprised you haven't seen him around more. 

Will he smile, you wonder. Will he have that same, gentle fondness in his eyes he seems to carry with him everywhere?

You don’t get an answer to that particular question, but you do learn that Jungwon is an incredibly prompt communicator. 

It’s barely been ten minutes before your inbox is chiming again. 

From: yangj@vesselsoft.co 

Subject: Re: Printer Issue Follow-Up

Sure thing, ___. Glad to hear it. 

Jungwon

You can’t hide the small smile that threatens to turn the corners of your lips upward. It’s not like he’s done anything particularly groundbreaking. But even bits of kindness have become a bit of a rarity for you these days.

You can’t think of anyone else in the office that would insist on sending you home thirty minutes early and offer to finish up your work for you. You can’t think of anyone else who would have navigated yesterday’s fiasco with as much gentle care as he did.

You can’t remember the last time someone bothered to consider you. To lighten your load when they noticed you starting to sink under the weight of it. 

So you’re smiling. Despite the fact that it’s still a Tuesday morning and you have a long week ahead of you. Despite the fact that you’re still very much locked into a job you mostly despise. 

Mentally, you make a note to give some gesture of your gratitude. To do something that will brighten his day a bit, too. 

But you don’t know him. Don’t know how he takes his coffee or if he has a favorite brand of ballpoint pen or if he could use an extra favor from someone in the marketing department. All the sorts of things that coworkers do to show a little bit of appreciation. 

But the universe, at least in part, seems to be on your side today. 

When you head into the staff kitchen for your mid-morning coffee refill, you find it already occupied. 

It’s a bit ridiculous, the way you suddenly feel flustered. Have the urge to smooth your hair, fix your blouse. 

He has his back turned to you, and it takes you nearly half a minute of contemplation to decide whether or not to say something. In the end, the decision is made for you. 

Your phone lights up with an urgent request that you check over the second half of the report you – well, Jungwon – submitted last night. 

Sighing, you turn away from the kitchen. Your second cup of coffee, and a conversation with a certain programmer, will just have to wait. 

You do, however, notice one last thing before you go. Watching silently, you can’t help but smile a bit as you watch Jungwon add two sugar packets to his mug. 

Sweet, you think. Just like him. And now you have at least one bit of information to work with. 

After submitting the edits on your report, you decide to use your recently earned knowledge. Deciding that he’s worth the splurge, you open the delivery page of the cafe down the street, the one that’s ridiculously overpriced but undoubtedly makes the best coffee in the area. 

And when you order it in his name, a hot coffee with two sugars, you ask the barista to attach a note. 

Thank you again for yesterday. I hope this is how you like your coffee! 

An hour later, your inbox chimes with another message. 

From: yangj@vesselsoft.co 

Subject: Thank You

You’re too kind, ____. Thank you for the coffee. How did you know just how I like it?

All the best, 

Jungwon

If his words make you smile a little too hard, well, you figure no one ever has to know. 

The universe, however, would seem to have other plans. 

Of everyone in the marketing department, you find your coworker Grace to be the most bearable. A few years older than you, she was by far the most welcoming when you joined the team. 

And you have the sneaking suspicion she has just as much disdain for your supervisor as you, even if the two of you have never openly discussed it. 

Unfortunately, she does have the fatal flaw of never being able to finish her work day without getting herself involved in someone else’s business. For the most part, you’re spared from her nosiness. 

Mostly because your life doesn’t carry the same flair for drama that she loves most. But today, she decides to give it a shot anyway. 

Standing behind your office chair, she nearly startles you out of your seat when she asks, “Who’s got you smiling like that?”

Closing the email as quickly as you can, you turn to face her. 

“No one.” It’s too rushed, too evasive. She sees right through it. 

“Mhmm.” 

Heat rising in your cheeks, you double down. “No, really.” Scrambling for a lie, your eyes land on one of your desk photos. One that shows your childhood cat, affectionately named Mr. Snuggles by your elementary school self. “I just heard from the vet that my cat is feeling a lot better. I was worried she was really sick.”

It’s a bold faced lie. Mr. Snuggles has been dead since your third year of high school. 

“Ah,” Grace says. Her features fall slightly as she realizes she won’t be getting a worthy scoop from you. Realizing that’s probably not an appropriate reaction, she forces a smile. “That’s great! I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” you nod, hoping it will mark the end of the conversation. 

But Grace isn’t quite ready to let it go. “That does remind me, though. I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Uh oh. 

“You’re not seeing anyone, right?” You’re not sure how a sick cat would remind her of your dating life, but you suppose there are larger mysteries to be solved. 

And on second consideration – oh. Is it really that obvious? “No,” the syllable drags as you attempt to tread carefully. “Why?”

Grace shrugs, but the conversation feels more calculated than nonchalant. “I was at my friend’s baby shower a couple of weeks ago, and her younger brother just moved back to the city. He’s been living abroad since high school. He’s around your age and a total catch. I didn’t talk to him much, but he reminded me of you a bit. I think the two of you would get on.” 

“Oh,” is all you say. Your uncertainty must be written all over your features, because Grace is quick to continue.

“No pressure, of course. But let me know if you’d like me to pass his number along.”

Do you? It’s been ages since you went on a date. And even longer since you went on a date with someone you’d describe as a total catch. 

And apparently, your single-ness is painfully visible to the people around you if Grace was able to pick up on it so easily. 

Besides, it might be nice, you think. To have a conversation with someone that isn’t about quarterly reports or upcoming deadlines or jammed printers. 

But then your mind wanders to the last conversation you had about a jammed printer. To a set of pretty, dark eyes and a pair of gentle hands. 

To a string of email conversations that don’t really mean anything. But you almost wish they did. 

It’s messy, you think. Far from ideal. JUngwon might not be in your department, but he still works just down the hall. Inter company relationships aren’t forbidden, but they do carry a certain amount of risk.

Jungwon isn’t petty. He wouldn’t make your life a living hell if things were to end badly. But you might start feeling awkward in the staff kitchen and you might have to start timing your walks to the parking lot so that they don’t coincide with his.

Small adjustments. Minor inconveniences more than anything.

Besides, it’s all conjecture. 

You can count the conversations you’ve had with Jungwon on your fingers, and the majority have been channeled through your work email. 

It’s hardly romantic. 

But even as you try to see things from a detached, logical perspective, one thought keeps swimming back to you.

You think you could talk about jammed printers forever, as long as it was with him. 

Sighing, your heart can’t decide if it wants to sink to your stomach or crawl up your throat at the realization. 

Turning back to Grace, you just offer her a tight smile. “I’ll let you know.”

…..

In the coming weeks, your coincidental run-ins with Jungwon start to become more and more frequent. 

First, it’s the two of you just so happening to need a coffee refill at the same time. When your path cross in the staff kitchen, you raise an eyebrow at the sugar packets he adds to his mug and he shakes his head as you take a long sip of your plain, bitter drink of choice. 

Then, it’s the morning in the parking lot when the two of you just so happen to arrive at the same time, pulling into adjacent parking spots. His smile is gentle, albeit a bit sleepy, when he bids you, “Good morning.” 

Your heart flutters a bit when you return the sentiment. You do your best to ignore it. 

Next, you stumble across him in the staircase on an otherwise quiet afternoon. This time, however, he’s already deep in another conversation. Or, you realize at second glance, trying very hard to wiggle his way out of another conversation. 

For all intents and purposes, Jenna from the legal department is a sweet girl. A bit overbearing at times and doesn’t always take well to being told no, but she’s harmless for the most part. Smart and driven and you admit a little glumly, quite pretty. 

Even underneath the overhead fluorescents in the stairway, she manages to avoid looking washed out. 

They’re already talking by the time you get there, and the only thing you catch is the tail end of their rather one-sided conversation. 

“It’s a great place, really,” Jenna insists, smiling a little too brightly. “And the food is to die for. They’re always running really unique specials. I think you’d really like it.”

And you could just turn around and pretend not to have seen anything. You could just take the elevator instead. In fact, you probably should. 

But suddenly, it’s as if your shoes have been filled with lead. Feet frozen to the earth, all you can do is watch. 

“Oh,” Jungwon reaches for the back of his neck. “Thanks for thinking of me, Jenna, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.”

“Oh, really?” she pouts. “Is there another night that would work bett–”

“Jungwon!” Your voice is too loud, reverberating off the walls of the stairway in a way that has two pairs of eyes immediately darting towards you. And interrupting had seemed like a good idea a few seconds ago, but now you realize your fatal mistake. 

You have no plan. No idea what to say next. 

Still, you force a smile. “Just the person I was looking for.”

You don’t think you’re imagining it, the immediate wash of relief that colors Jungwon’s features. 

“Hey, ___,” Jenna waves, a bit dejectedly. She doesn’t exactly look pleased to see you, and you can’t really blame her. “Could you give us a minute? I was just in the middle of–”

“Sorry, Jenna,” you shake your head. “This is kind of urgent.”

“Right,” Jungwon nods, looking at you again. “We’d better go then.”

“But I–”

“See you around, Jenna.” You’re tone is too bright as you spin around, making a beeline back towards the door. A flicker of satisfaction warms in your chest when you realize Jungwon is right on your heels. 

He waits until the two of you are back in the empty hallway, closed door serving as a barrier between you and Jenna, before he speaks. 

Looking at you, he quirks his head to the side. “So, what’s the urgent thing you need help with?”

Oh. Right. 

Sighing, you decide honesty, or at least partial honesty, might be your best bet. 

“Sorry,” your smile is sheepish, “did I read that wrong? There’s nothing urgent. I just…” you trail off, searching for the words. “It just looked like you might have needed an exit.”

For a moment, he says nothing. The silence gives your mind too much room to spin

Maybe you did read things wrong. Maybe he was enjoying a perfectly pleasant conversation with perfectly pleasant Jenna. Maybe he was looking forward to going to a nice restaurant with her and trying all sorts of unique specials and–

“Thank you.”

“What?”

Jungwon’s eyes soften. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost describe his expression as… fondness. “An exit,” he clarifies. “I did need one. So thank you.”

“Right.” Your voice is suddenly breathless, and you can’t think of a good excuse for it. Feigning a nonchalance you don’t feel, you wave off his gratitude, “Anytime.” 

“Careful,” Jungwon warns, but the same hint of teasing, the same glimmer of affection, is still there. “I just might take you up on that.” 

“It’s a good thing I meant it, then.”

Jungwon’s features soften into a smile. A small one, meant just for the two of you. Reaching up, he pushes a stray strand of hair from his eyes. 

It’s only natural that you follow the movement. His hands are nice, you think. Long, lithe fingers, and–

You frown, eyes zeroing in on the knuckles of his right hand. 

Bruises, you realize. Dark, purple bruises span the length of his knuckles. Angry and mottled and from what you can tell, recent. 

And so many. You can’t imagine what he could have possibly done to earn them. 

Gaze still trained on the injury, your eyes widen. “Are you okay?”

It’s Jungwon’s turn to be confused. “What?”

“Your hand,” you nod at it. “Are those bruises?”

“Oh.” He shrugs, brushes it off like it’s nothing. But his hand falls to his side, obscured from your sight, all the same. “Yeah, I just slipped the other day trying to hang a picture in my apartment. The frame caught me funny when it fell.”

“You… slipped.”

Your disbelief must be apparent, because Jungwon is quick to add, “My hand slipped, really. My phone started ringing, and it caught me off guard.”

“Ouch,” you grimace. “That sounds like it hurt.”

Again, Jungwon shrugs. But his eyes are doing that thing again. Sparkling. “It’s not so bad.”

“Still,” you insist. “You should be more careful.”

“Yeah,” Jungwon agrees. It’s just the two of you, alone in a dimly lit hallway. His gaze is trained on yours. The distance between you is respectable, appropriate. Suggests that the two of you are coworkers and nothing more. But you have the distinct feeling that he’s not entirely talking about hanging pictures when he says, “I probably should.”

…..

The next morning, Grace is the first person you see as you walk into the office. And she’s already waiting for you. As soon as you come in, she hands you a coffee with an apologetic smile. 

“Uh oh.” You hang your coat, accepting the cup from her hands. It’s not unusual to receive coffee from a coworker, but it usually comes as a form of consolation. “What’s this for?”

“It’s from Alan, actually.”

Your lips flatten. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“It’s not that bad, really.” Grace’s smile is less than convincing. “He just wants us all to get together this Friday night after work at that bar down the street. Y’know, to network.”

You groan internally. There go your plans for a relaxing Friday at home. 

“How is it networking if it’s just our team? We see each other every day.”

“That’s the other part,” Grace nods towards the cup in your hand. “Didn’t you notice he pulled out all the stops? That’s from the shop down the road. The one that charges eleven dollars for a small latte.”

“Oh god,” you groan, this time audibly. “What else does he want?”

“We’ve all been strongly encouraged to invite people from different teams around the company.”

You suppress a strong urge to roll your eyes. “Of course we have.”

Privately, you think that if Alan wants to network so bad, he should be responsible for creating the guest list himself. Outwardly, you just sigh. 

As if you didn’t have enough on your plate already. Now you need to schmooze some other poor employee into wasting their Friday night talking about work. 

Sitting down at your desk, you take a sip of your coffee. It is admittedly delicious. The thought only makes you want to bang your head on your keyboard even more. 

The problem of finding a plus one follows you all the way through the afternoon. All the way to the workroom, where you once again stumble into a certain blonde programmer that’s beginning to feel like part of your daily routine. 

This time, Jungwon is alone. 

He’s frowning at the printer, brow furrowed. 

“Don’t tell me it’s jammed.” 

When he sees that it’s you, his features immediately soften. He smiles and something tugs at your heart. It’s enough to have you forgetting about Friday night, even if just for a moment. 

“No, thankfully. My computer just doesn’t seem to want to connect to this printer.”

“Mm,” you hum. “Send it to me, and I’ll try printing from mine.”

Jungwon shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll just go up to the accounting department and try their printer.”

“Jungwon,” you level him with a look. “You are the last person to be telling me I don’t have to do you a favor. It’s really no problem. Just send it over.”

“Okay,” he finally relents. 

Waiting for it to ping through on your end, an idea suddenly strikes you. You’re not sure if it’s a good one or if your judgment is starting to be warped by all of the toner cartridge fumes, but here, in a quiet workroom with nothing but Jungwon and a half-working printer to keep you company, you find a bit of your bravery. 

“I know this probably isn’t your idea of a perfect evening,” you start. Your words feel too loud in this tiny space. “But the marketing team is getting together after work for drinks this Friday night. We’re also encouraged to branch outside of our department and invite other company employees, so if you’re free, we’d love to have you.” The more you say, the worse it sounds to your own ears. Why would anyone, much less Jungwon, want to come to a work event for the marketing team. Suddenly embarrassed you even brought it up, you find yourself rambling. “The bar is actually pretty nice. It’s not super fancy or anything, but it has, uh, really great chandeliers. It’s a nice ambience, and–”

“___.” Jungwon interrupts with the sound of your name. 

“Yeah?” You’re trying not to sound too hopeful, but you have the distinct feeling that you fail miserably. Despite your hesitance, you realize something. 

You want him to say yes. 

You want him to give you a different response than he gives everyone else. A different response than he gave Jenna. 

You want him to say yes, even though no one wants to go to a work event for the marketing team on a Friday night. 

You want him to say yes anyway, because it’s you. 

“I’d love to, really.” He reaches up, scratching at the back of his neck. “But I’m busy Friday night.”

Short. Succinct. To the point. He doesn’t spare any extra details. 

You already knew it was a long shot. But it stings all the same. 

You wanted to be the exception to the rule. Someone that would finally get him to say yes. Or at the very least, someone he would bother to give an actual reason for his absence to. 

“Oh.” Your voice is smaller than you mean for it to be. “Of course!” And now it’s too loud, too bright. You can’t find the happy medium, can’t find your natural tone. “I’m sure whatever it is will be way more fun, anyway.”

Jungwon just gives you a small smile, not bothering to affirm or refute your assumption. Not deigning to add any more details. 

It kind of makes you wish that the ground would open up and swallow you whole. 

“Well, I should probably get back to my desk.” You don’t know why you’re scrambling for excuses. Jungwon clearly doesn’t feel the need to provide any. “Did everything print okay?” You nod towards the small stack of papers in his hands. 

Jungwon is still looking at you. His lips part, as if he wants to say something. Brow creased, it’s as if he’s at war with himself. As if he can’t decide what to say or how to say it. 

After a beat, his mouth falls shut again. He gives a minute shake of his head. You watch as his hair sways in time with the movement. 

“Yeah,” he tells you. But he still hasn’t bothered to look down at the document between his fingers. “Everything printed fine.” 

“Okay.” You nod again. “Good.” Your voice sounds hollow in your ears. “Well, I’ll see you around, then.”

I’ll see you around?

I’ll see you around?

It takes all of your willpower not to cringe outwardly. It’s the most awkward, stilted thing you could have possibly said, but you’re not sure how else to fill the stifling silence. 

“Of course,” Jungwon nods. “Have a good day, ____.” The worst part is that he looks like he genuinely means it. “And enjoy your Friday night.”

“Right.” Your smile is feeble, doesn’t reach your eyes. “You too.” 

You’re so caught up in your own humiliation that you don’t notice the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes either. “Sure thing.”

…..

Changing your clothes in the last stall of the office bathroom kind of feels like a new low for you. But by the time Friday evening comes around, the last thing you want to do is attend a mandatory – scratch that, highly encouraged – work event at a bar still wearing your blazer and slacks. 

The jeans and sweater you replace them with are still nice by any standard, but they’ll feel a bit less stifling after a handful of drinks. 

Grace, at least, seems to have the same idea. Deciding she’s by far the most bearable person of the evening, you slide down next to her in the booth. 

Of course, that thought only makes you think of another person you’d invited. Someone whose absence feels especially notable as you nurse the remnants of your first cocktail. 

You don’t really want to get drunk tonight. You don’t want to be here at all. 

You put in your forty hours of work this week, and the only place you want to be is at home in a pair of sweatpants. 

The only person that would have made it a little more worth it made it very clear that he had better things to do. The details of which, of course, he didn’t bother to share. 

The thought spurs you to take another long sip. 

You don’t want to get drunk. But you don’t want to think about him either. 

Besides, Grace doesn’t seem to share your reservations. 

It’s barely been forty minutes when she pulls out her phone, thoroughly tipsy, and decides that you are the best person to help her sort through her list of matches on her favorite dating app. 

“He’s cute, right?” She flashes her phone screen towards you. 

He is. You nod and tell her as much. 

His eyes might not sparkle very much. And his hair might not fall perfectly over his forehead. And he might not furrow his eyebrow in concentration whenever the printer in the workroom gives him a hard time –

No. 

Tonight is not about him. He made it very clear that he had no interest in being here tonight, and the last thing you’re going to do is spend the evening fixated on him. 

Grace, at least, seems willing to help on that front. 

“Oh,” she suddenly interjects from your side. “That reminds me. I’ve been meaning to show you a picture of my friend’s brother. You know, the one I mentioned a couple of weeks ago?”

It’s a bad idea, probably. You’re still feeling slighted and bitter and no matter how many times you tell it not to, your mind keeps wandering to Jungwon. 

Despite your reluctance, the cocktails are catching up with you. There’s a pleasant, slightly numb haze in your mind. It makes resistance feel futile. 

All you do is nod, and Grace starts searching for his social media profile. It takes her a few more tries than it would sober, but she does eventually find it. 

“Here,” she says, offering her phone to you. “His name is Jay. He grew up here until he left to go to an international high school. He’s been living abroad ever since, but he recently moved back. Their dad is pretty high up at a software development company. I think he came back because he landed a job there too.” 

You do your best to absorb the information, to nod along with what she says, but in all honesty, you’re quite distracted. 

Jay is quite distracting. His feed is well-curated without being overbearing. Covered in travel photos, unbelievably flattering candid shots, and stunning nature pictures, he immediately piques your interest. 

Not to mention the fact that he’s stunning. Maybe not quite as stunning as –

No. Again, you refuse to go there. 

You’re not sure if it’s the drinks or the photos or the spite that makes it suddenly feel like a good idea, but you’re telling Grace to pass your number along to Jay before you can think better of it. 

And if nothing else, at least he doesn’t seem like the kind of person that will make you wonder. Or even wait for long. 

You’ve barely gotten home, mind mostly clear even if it is still a bit muddled from the exhaustion of a long week, when your phone screen lights up with a notification. 

It’s just a string of numbers for now, but you’re quick to create a new contact. 

Hey, the message reads. This is Jay. Grace gave me your number. I hope that’s alright!

A few seconds later, another text comes through. 

Jay: How do you feel about art exhibitions? There’s one opening this weekend right next to one of the best coffee spots in the city. I’d love for you to join me. 

It’s simple. Straightforward. Not something you’ll search for subtext or pick apart for weeks. 

And it’s easy to respond to. 

You: That sounds great! I’ll look forward to it

…..

Another week at work passes with the same monotonous, sluggish flow as any other. But this time, it’s interspersed with messages you’ve started to look forward to. 

You’ve just sat down with your third cup of coffee on Monday morning when the first one chimes through. 

Jay: Good morning, ___. I hope your Monday is off to a better start than mine. 

A second message comes through. This one is an image. One that unmistakably shows a stack of papers covered in a dark brown stain you recognize all too well. 

You: Oh no! 

Pausing for a moment, your teeth worry at your bottom lip. Deciding to go for it, you send your own picture in return. 

The image of your full coffee cup goes through, along with another message. 

You: I think it might be. My coffee is still in my cup, at least

It takes him less than a minute to respond. 

Jay: Black coffee! Oh, you mean business. I’ll deny it if you tell anyone, but I always have to add sugar and cream to mine. 

You can’t help the smile that starts to spread over your lips. Sugar and cream. An aversion to bitterness. It reminds you of someone else that always adds a little sweetness to their –

Shaking your head, you force the comparison away. Putting the other man firmly out of mind, you decide to return Jay’s lighthearted message with one of your own.

You: Don’t tell anyone, but this is my third cup of the morning. 

Jay: Third cup of straight black coffee. Whew, remind me not to get on your bad side today. 

Jay: Speaking of which, do you always drink it black or could you be persuaded into something a little sweeter? 

He’s talking about coffee, yes, but it feels just a little bit like flirting. Biting at your lip again, you decide there isn’t much to lose.

Besides, it’s kind of… fun. You can’t remember the last time you were well and truly flirted with. 

You: Depends who’s asking

Jay: Hmm

Jay: I’ll have to work on my persuasion skills then

Jay: The place I’m taking you to on Saturday has an insanely delicious caramel latte, and I need to know what you think of it

You: Tempting

You: But I’m not sure I’m convinced 

Jay: I’ll work on that, then

You can’t hide your smile this time.��

A minute later, two more texts ping through. 

Jay: Duty calls, unfortunately

Jay: The rest of my Monday is stacked, so if I am slow to respond to any messages, that’s why. Enjoy the rest of your day, ___

He’s straightforward. Communicative. You appreciate the notice. The fact that if you do send another message without a response, you won’t have to waste your day wondering why. 

You: Ugh, don’t you hate it when you actually have to work at work?

You: I hope all goes well! Enjoy the rest of your day too, Jay

Setting your phone down, you return your gaze to your computer screen and unfortunately very full inbox. 

Your focus, however, remains half-occupied by a message thread sitting dormant on your tucked away phone. 

…..

Jay’s messages begin to become a highlight of your work day. Despite the fact that there’s often a large lapse in time due to both of your busy schedules, you start to anticipate every text he manages to send. 

And they only serve to build more excitement around your upcoming date. 

By the time Thursday comes around, you’ve all but mentally clocked out for the week. Refilling your water bottle in the staff kitchen, your mind is so occupied that you almost run right into the person coming through the door the same time you’re leaving. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was–”

“___.” The sound of your name stops you in your tracks. “Breathe,” Jungwon is smiling, but there’s a hint of concern there, too. “You’re okay.”

“Jungwon,” you exhale. Your frantic apology begins to subside, replaced by an overwhelming surge of self-consciousness as you tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

You haven’t spoken to him, haven’t even seen him, since he rejected your invitation last Friday. 

He’s not trying to pick at old wounds, but it still stings a bit when he asks, “How was Friday?”

“Oh, you know,” you shrug, “It was a typical work gathering.” Then again, it occurs to you that he might not know. Since he never bothers attending any of them. 

Not that it really matters. Besides, you’re lying a bit anyway. Typical work gatherings don’t usually end with you setting up a date. Not that you want Jungwon to know about that either. 

You can't pinpoint exactly why, but the thought of him knowing doesn’t sit with you quite right. Besides, it’s not like he’s ever shown any interest in your personal life, anyway. He would find it weird, most likely. Annoying, if you were to divulge any details. 

“Oh, well, I’m sorry again that I couldn’t come.” Just like that day in the workroom, he reaches back to scratch at his neck. You have the distinct sense that he’s the one who suddenly feels a bit awkward. “Friday nights are…” he trails off, “Friday nights are hard for me, usually. I’m always pretty free on Saturday mornings, thought, so if–”

“Don’t worry about it.” Oh god. Your intention certainly wasn’t to make him feel guilty for having a social life outside of the office. Suddenly worried that you read the situation all wrong, you’re quick to assure him, “You don’t have to come to anything that you don’t want to. And especially if you have plans already. I just asked you because my supervisor wanted us to invite people from other departments.”

If his face falls slightly, you’re too caught up in your own rambling to notice. 

“And, you know,” you continue, “since you helped me that day with the printer.” 

“The printer,” he echoes, voice suddenly hollow. “Right.”

“Right,” you echo. The room falls into silence again, and this time, it’s weighted with a horrible awkwardness neither of you can shake. 

“Well,” you finally say, holding up your bottle. “I got my water, so I’m gonna head back to my desk.”

“Yeah,” Jungwon nods. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you around?” It’s just as stilted as it was before, but you’re desperate for any way to exit this conversation. 

“Yeah,” Jungwon repeats. “Sure thing, ___.”

…..

By the time Saturday morning comes, you’re a mess of anticipation and frayed nerves. 

You’re early to arrive at the address of the coffee shop Jay sent you a few nights ago, but he’s already there waiting for you. And his social media might have painted an impressive picture, but one look tells you that it still doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing. 

Jay is gorgeous.

Almost as gorgeous as –

You kill the thought as soon as it comes. This day isn’t about him, and comparisons will do you little good. 

Instead, you refocus on your date. 

He’s polished and put together in an effortless sort of way. The kind of person that you see once in passing and then can’t stop thinking about for the rest of the week. His features are angular, sharp. But they soften into a warm smile the second he lays eyes on you. 

In the end, it doesn’t take him much convincing at all to persuade you to try the caramel latte. And he’s right. It is absolutely delicious.  

It was easy to fall into a natural rhythm over text, and your face-to-face conversation flows even better. 

He tells you about life abroad and all of his favorite parts of living in another country. He tells you about his family and what he missed most about this city he’s learning to call home again. 

He listens, actively, while you tell him the more mundane details of your own life. His questions are well-timed and never feel like interruptions. 

His kindness doesn’t feel like a facade. His interest doesn’t feel like a cheap trick to get what he wants from you and then disappear without a word. 

And when it becomes painfully apparent at the art exhibition that he’s far more well-versed in the subject than you, he doesn’t make you feel stupid. Instead, he takes his time explaining each piece. Highlights the aspects that would be most interesting to someone without any kind of background in art. 

He’s kind, considerate, and the day passes by in a blur of fleeting glances and shy smiles. At the end of it, he offers to drive you home and opens your car door for you. Small gestures that make you feel seen, considered. Valued. 

When he says goodbye with a hug that doesn’t last nearly long enough, the smell of his cologne is something you hope will linger as long as the memories of the day do. 

It’s easy, you think, as you watch his car drive away from your window. Jay is someone that’s easy to be around, to spend time with. 

And when he messages you later that night, reiterating his enjoyment of the day and asking to meet again, he’s easy to say yes to. 

…..

You’re not sure how, but the only person that seems even more excited than you about you and Jay is Grace. 

Despite the fact that your communication as of late hasn’t involved anything scandalous, she feels the need to rehash every detail until she’s heard it one hundred times. 

It doesn’t matter how many times you tell her that the last text message he sent you wasn’t anything to swoon over. In fact, it was rather short and unexciting. 

Jay: Have you seen my ring by chance? I remember wearing it that day I was in your car, and I haven’t been able to find it since then. 

But Grace won’t hear it. You’re not exactly sure what she heard from Jay’s sister, but she spends the rest of the coming week hounding you over the details regardless. 

The staff kitchen is hardly the place for conversations about your personal life, but the setting doesn’t seem to bother her at all. Instead, she pretends to be busy washing an already clean coffee mug while she asks again, “So you went out for the first time last Saturday, right?”

“Mhm,” you nod. 

“And then you got dinner together Wednesday night after work?”

“Yep.” You’re pretty sure she’s already asked the same question at least six times. 

“And he’s planning to take you out again this Saturday?”

“Right.”

“My god, you two are practically married.” She punctuates the absurd claim with a wistful sigh. 

“We most certainly are not.” 

“Okay, but you literally just met, and you’ve already seen each other twice with plans for a third.”

She does have a point there. Never mind the fact that you haven’t dated anyone in a while. It is a quick timeline, no matter how you look at it. But you’ve been itching to spend time with him ever since your first date, and Jay seems to be on the same page. 

It feels fast, yes, but it doesn’t feel forced. For you, that’s what matters most. 

That, along with the fact that a certain someone has been noticeably absent from your mind the more time you spend with him. For now, you’ll choose not to read too much into that. 

“God,” Grace sighs again. “I miss going on dates.”

“What are you talking about? Didn’t you go on one a couple weeks ago?” You distinctly remember helping her set it up that night at the bar after work.

“Well, yeah, but I mean good dates. You know, getting properly wined and dined and all that. I guess I’ll just have to live vicariously through you.” 

“We went to dinner once, and there was hardly any wine involved.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean. All I’m saying is you’re lucky to be seeing someone that actually puts in effort for your dates and doesn’t just take you to the closest bar to his office and hope that buying you a handful of drinks means he’ll get lucky.” Pausing for a moment, she looks up, eyes landing somewhere just over your shoulder. “Right, Jungwon?”

Immediately, it’s as if you’ve been submerged in ice cold water. Because there’s no way she said–

“Jungwon?” Turning around, you’re put face to face with the last person you wanted to overhear this particular conversation. 

“Hey, ___.” There’s a smile on his lips. Small as always, but something feels wrong about it. “Grace,” he nods at the girl over your shoulder. “Sorry,” he’s still looking at her, “were you asking me something?”

“No, we were just leaving, actua–”

Grace pays you no attention. “Just telling ___ how lucky she is that her man actually puts effort into their dates, since it feels like such a rarity these days.”

“He is not my man.” The glare you send your coworker is lost as Jungwon turns back to you, eyes wide, gaze indecipherable. 

“You’re dating someone?”

“I…” The easy, most available answer is yes, but you’re having a hard time getting it out. And there are other semantics involved. 

Are you dating? Not really. That usually indicates some kind of commitment, exclusivity. Going on dates might be a better way to put it. But clarifying that miniscule distinction for Jungwon feels strange for some reason. 

“My friend’s brother,” Grace supplies unhelpfully from the corner. “What can I say? I’m a natural born matchmaker.” Her proud smile is lost on the both of you. You’re only looking at each other. 

“Oh.” Jungwon’s voice is small, hollow. “That’s nice. I’m happy for you.”

You want to scream, just a little bit. Or maybe cry. You can’t make up your mind. 

And you’re not sure where it comes from, the sudden, overwhelming surge of guilt that begins to build in your gut. You can’t even decipher who it’s directed towards. Towards Jungwon? Towards Jay? Towards yourself? 

Grace, despite her self-proclaimed talent for setting up dates, is apparently incredibly inept at reading the room. With no prompting but her own, she’s pushing forward. “He lived abroad for a while and just moved back to the city, which is like, the perfect scenario for going on dates. And he’s always had a flair for romance. I remember–”

“Well,” you interrupt, desperate for an out, “we better get back to the project we were working on—“

“What project?” Grace, it would seem, is determined to be anything but helpful.

“You know,” you glare at her, “our project.”

“Right!” She looks sheepish, finally catching the hint. “That project.”

Turning back to Jungwon, you can still see the rigidity of his features. The tension that has yet to ease. “I’ll…” you’re not sure how to part ways now without making things worse. But it feels wrong to just leave without saying anything. For the third time in the span of days, you tell him, “I’ll see you around.”

And for the third time, he agrees, “Yeah.” This time, however, his eyes still flickering with annoyance, shoulders still set with residual frustration. “Sure thing, ___.”

It’s what he always says, you realize. But this time, it’s missing that easygoing, genuine lightness he usually says it with. 

This time, it sounds like rejection.

Yours or his, you’re not entirely sure.

…..

You manage to avoid Jungwon for the rest of the week. It’s ironic, almost. You were so worried about pursuing a potential relationship with him because you wanted to avoid this exact scenario. 

Now, a handful of dates with someone who is very much not him tucked under your belt, you still feel the need to turn and walk the other direction whenever you think you hear his voice or get a glimpse of blonde hair. 

But the office is only so big, and there are only so many corners to duck into. Barely a week has passed the next time you unwittingly bump into him. 

“Oh,” you startle slightly, walking into the workroom and already finding it occupied. And of course you’d run into him here, of all places. Kneeling in front of the printer, his brow is furrowed in concentration as he tries to dislodge yet another paper jam. 

“Sorry.” You’re not sure what you’re apologizing for exactly, but it feels warranted regardless. “I’ll just leave, and—”

“___,” he cuts you off with the sound of your name. Looking down at him, you're met with the expanse of his back. A button down shirt tucked into dark pants. Standard work attire that has no business looking this ridiculously good on anyone. “You’re fine. You don’t need to leave. Just give me a second, and the printer’s all yours.” 

You nod, even though he can’t see you. If the lack of a verbal response bothers him, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he busies himself with the jammed printer, muscles of his back flexing slightly underneath the fabric of his shirt as he tugs at the stubborn papers. 

Cheeks heating slightly, you force your gaze elsewhere. 

“There,” he says after another minute of adjustments. Standing to full height, he turns to face you. “All fixed.”

Looking up at him, you’re about to offer a quiet thanks when your eyes land on his right cheekbone. Specifically, the fresh cut that spans the length of it. 

The gasp the spills from your lips is entirely without permission. But you can’t quite help it. The wound is quite superficial, surface level at most, but it mars his otherwise perfect skin in a way you weren’t prepared for. 

Without your permission, your fingers start to reach towards the injury. They make it halfway before you remember yourself, before you regain your sense of reality. Your hand falls limply back to your side. 

“What happened?” You breathe. 

Jungwon’s brows draw together in confusion for a moment before a flicker of realization dances across his features. 

“Oh.” He exhales, fingers tapping against the broken skin of his cheekbone lightly. “Nothing. I just, er, fell the other day.”

“You fell,” you echo. Like all of his other excuses, it’s vague. Flimsy at best. 

“Yeah,” he confirms with a slight nod. Again, he says, “I fell.”

It’s evasive. And it feels like more than just an explanation for his injury. 

It feels like confirmation of the distance between the two of you. His final assertion that you’re nothing but a coworker to him. Someone that he tells edited versions of stories to, someone that he keeps firmly planted an arm’s length away. 

Fine. If he wants to give you shitty excuses for his Friday nights and his absences at work events and now his injury that very obviously did not come from a fall, that’s just fine with you. 

After all, he’s nothing but a coworker to you either. The upcoming date you have planned with Jay is enough to prove it. 

“Well,” you tell him, forcing a smile. The fake, disproportionately bright kind that you only ever use with your coworkers. “I hope it heals quickly.”

And then you’re brushing past him, making your way towards the printer as if he’s nothing but an obstacle in your path. 

Collecting your freshly printed document, you turn and walk out the door without so much as a backward glance. 

…..

Sliding into the passenger seat of Jay’s car Thursday evening, you feel the stress melting from your shoulders the second the door shuts behind you. 

This is something else he makes easy: forgetting about whatever woes you managed to acquire after a long day of work. Jay just smiles as you sit down next to him, turning down the volume on the radio as he asks about your day. 

Tonight, the two of you are headed to one of your favorite diners. Somewhere where you can chat and laugh and relax over a pile of french fries and obnoxiously gaudy decor. 

But before you turn down the street that leads to the restaurant, Jay asks if the two of you can make a quick stop. 

“I left my bag at the gym last night,” he explains apologetically. “Do you mind if I swing by and grab it real quick? It’s on our way.”

You reassure him that it’s no problem, and a handful of minutes later, the two of you are parked outside of a rather nondescript, faded building. 

Frowning slightly, your eyebrow quirks up in surprise. Although he hasn’t outright disclosed anything, from what you’ve gathered so far, Jay’s family is quite well off. The kind that pays for expensive memberships at bougie gyms with saunas and swimming pools. Not the kind that frequents dark, run down gyms in the middle of a random residential area. 

Pulling his key from the ignition, Jay turns to you. “You can wait here, if you want.”

“That’s okay.” You’re already unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’m tired of sitting, anyway.” You really are. Plus, you have to admit that you’re kind of curious. 

You fall into step at his side as the two of you make your way towards the building. The closer you get, the more decrepit it appears. Paint is peeling from the exterior, leaving it an odd, mottled brown color riddled with rust marks. 

Even the sign, Kang’s Gym, is small, faded, and only visible once you’re nearly to the entrance. 

Jay steps in front of you, holding the door open for you to enter. 

The inside, you realize as you step in, is in no better shape than the outside. The wall closest to you is lined with weightlifting equipment that looks as if it were pulled from past decades. 

Padding is torn in places, and questionable stains cover the place, accumulated from years of use. 

You’re about to ask him outright why on earth he patronizes such a run down place when your eyes land on the far wall of the gym. There, you think you find your answer. 

There’s no weightlifting equipment or cardio machines. Instead, the majority of available space is filled with several sets of boxing rings. Like the rest of the gym, they’re equally faded and worn with years of use. 

But the lighting in that part of the gym is noticeably better. Far brighter, more intentional. As if the rest of the gym is just for show and that is the true purpose of this building. 

You’re suddenly overcome with the urge to take a second glance at your date. 

He has a lean, athletic build, yes. The kind that you assumed came from some kind of regular exercise regiment and not his office job. 

But boxing wasn’t exactly what you expected. 

Jay turns to you. His expression gives nothing away, holds no indication that this is anything out of the ordinary for him. “I think I left it over by the locker rooms.” 

Encasing your hand in his, he leads you towards the rings. Several of them are occupied, mostly by one-on-one sparring matches. 

Walking past the first one, the two men inside the ring turn to look at you and Jay as you pass. 

“Hey, man,” the first one offers with a nod of recognition that Jay returns. As his eyes slide over to you, they widen slightly in surprise. Gaze falling to your intertwined hands, the man just shakes his head slightly before returning to his sparring partner. 

Moving past them, you shake the odd interaction from your mind. 

You spare fleeting glances for the rest of the people you pass. For a moment, you try to imagine Jay in the ring instead of them. It’s an odd contradiction with what you’ve come to associate with him. 

Easygoing. Considerate. Even tempered. They’re traits that feel at odds with the kind of stark physicality required in a boxing ring. 

Then again, the more you consider it, the more you start to make sense of it. Jay is all of those things, yes, but there’s also an undercurrent of something else. 

A quiet intensity he carries with him. Something he has control over. Something he can channel when needed. 

The more you think about it, the easier it is to picture him in the ring, throwing precise, calculated punches until victory rests on his square shoulders. 

You’d be lying if you said the mental image didn’t pique your interest. You’re about to ask him if he’ll let you watch next time he’s in the ring when a flash of color in the last boxing ring, the one closest to the locker rooms, catches your attention. 

It’s unlikely. It feels impossible. Even more so than the thought of Jay in a boxing ring. But as you draw closer, you confirm your suspicions. 

After all, you would know that shade of blonde anywhere. 

It takes everything in you not to stop dead in your tracks. But even as you continue forward, hand still encased in Jay’s, your eyes are trained solely on the space between Jungwon’s broad shoulders. 

It’s almost inhuman, the feline agility that he moves with. He’s smaller than his opponent, but he’s faster. Lighter on his feet. 

The punches he throws are dizzyingly accurate, and his sparring partner seems to think the same. A muted thud is followed by a string of expletives that become more clear the closer you get. 

“Jesus, Jungwon.” The man across from him is still a bit breathless as he recovers from having the wind knocked out of him. “Bad week at work or something?”

“C’mon, Heeseung.” It doesn’t sound anything like the Jungwon you know. Gone is the quiet friendliness you’ve always heard from him. His voice is still gentle, but it carries an unmistakable command. “Stop going easy.”

“I’m not,” the other man – Heeseung – argues. “What has gotten into you? It’s like you’ve been insane since that match last week.” 

“Whatever,” Jungwon scoffs, shaking his head. “Let’s just take five.” 

“Make it ten,” Heeseung goads across from him. 

Jungwon sends him a warning glare, but says nothing. Instead, he reaches for his water bottle at the corner of the ring, leaning against the ropes that enclose it. 

All you can do is watch, suddenly fascinated by the way sweat darkens his hair, trails down the length of his neck. Jungwon gives a quick shake of his head, sending his hair scattering over his forehead as he leans further into the ropes behind him.

Tipping his head back, his throat works against a swallow as he takes a long drink from his water bottle. 

Jungwon sets his water bottle down, turning towards Heeseung like he’s about to say something else when movement catches his attention. 

More specifically, your movement. His eyes fall on you, and for a moment, you’re rendered just as immobile as him. His gaze widens in recognition and then suddenly, he’s standing. 

Long strides eat up the length of the boxing ring as he crosses it, every step bringing him closer to you. With a distinct sort of grace and practiced ease, he jumps over the side of the ring, landing on his feet just as you and Jay pass him. 

With a hand on your shoulder, he stops you both in your tracks. His touch is gentle, but commanding. It leaves little room for argument. 

“This is the guy you’ve been seeing?” Jungwon’s eyes are molten lava. If you thought that day in the staff kitchen was the most visible emotion he was capable of mustering, you were sorely mistaken. The Jungwon that stands in front of you now is simmering with it, vibrating with barely contained emotions. 

At your side, Jay turns back. With your hand still enclosed in his, Jay’s gaze goes straight towards Jungwon’s hand on your shoulder. 

“Jungwon,” he nods coolly. 

Jungwon ignores him entirely. His gaze is still trained directly on you. 

Glancing between the both of them, the tension between them is palpable. Over Jungwon’s shoulder, you can see Heeseung leaning against the edge of the boxing ring as if he can’t decide whether to intervene or not. 

“Well,” you say, attempting to diffuse a bit of the rising animosity, “I guess I don’t need to introduce the two of you, then.”

This time, it’s you that Jungwon ignores. Turning to Jay, he’s all venom. “And you brought her here? What the hell are you doing?”

“Relax, man.” Jay rolls his eyes. “We’re just grabbing my bag.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you left here,” he bites. “You know better than to–”

Shaking his hand off your shoulder, annoyance makes itself visible across your features. It’s one thing for Jungwon to be pissy towards your date, but it’s another entirely for him to assume that you can’t handle something as mundane as a boxing gym. 

And if you're honest, the whole overprotective act just rubs you the wrong way. Why does he think he gets to ignore you all week at work and then act like he knows what’s in your best interest?

“I think I can handle watching people throw a few punches, Jungwon.” Your voice is all ice, and it changes his demeanor immediately. The anger begins to dissipate, leaving him with wide eyes that beg for your understanding. 

The frustration is still there, though. “That’s not what I meant, ___.”

“I don’t really care what you meant.” You’re not sure if it’s true, but you want it to be. For now, that’s enough. “Why don’t you go back to your friend and pretend like you never saw me. You’re good at that, right?”

It’s a low blow. And it has his features falling immediately, eyebrows slackening as if you’ve slapped him. 

His voice is notably gentler when he says your name. “___…”

This time, it’s Jay that speaks. “I suggest you listen to her, man. We’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Jungwon wants to say more. You can see it in the way his mouth twitches, in the way his shoulders still rise with tension. Finally, he relaxes. Just a fraction of an inch, but you know it’s over. At least for now. 

He doesn’t say anything, but he does take a step back. And then another. 

His eyes are still on you, even as Jay keeps walking, pulling you gently along with him. 

By the time he finds his bag and the two of you make your way back out, Jungwon is nowhere to be found. 

You can still feel eyes on you, though. 

This time, it’s Heeseung’s gaze that follows you all the way out the door. 

Back in Jay’s passenger seat, you turn towards your date, a million questions swimming in your mind. 

“What on earth was that all about?”

Jay just frowns, knuckles white against the steering wheel. Instead of answering, he asks a question of his own. “How do you know him?”

“What?” Too confused to protest, you answer. “We work together.” Then you repeat, “What’s going on?”

Jay sighs, leans his head back against his seat. “He’s in marketing with you?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Programming. I don’t want to ask you again.” This time, you can’t help the expletive. “What the fuck was that?”

“We…” Jay trails off, searching for an explanation. “We know each other.”

“Yeah, no shit. How?”

“We went to the same middle school, before I left for high school. He was a year behind me.”

“And what?” You ask, trying to think of what kind of feud middle schoolers could possibly have that would warrant tonight’s interaction. “He stole your lunch money and you never got over it?”

“Not quite.” His lips are tight. “Look, ___. I know you can’t help who you work with, but Jungwon… he’s not who you think he is.”

“And you are?”

Jay turns to you, hurt clearly written across his features. “That’s not fair.”

“No,” you argue, doubling down. “What’s not fair is giving me vague half truths about my coworker and expecting me to just agree blindly while you evade all of my questions.” A moment of silence passes. Jay says nothing. Finally, you tell him, “If you’re not going to be honest with me, then I think you should just take me home.”

“Wait, ___–”

“I’m serious, Jay. I’m not about to go have dinner with you and pretend that this didn't just happen. Just take me home.” Softening a bit at the obvious distress on his face, you add a quiet, “Please.”

You won’t compromise your boundaries, but you don’t have it in you to be needlessly cruel, even if his evasiveness bothers you to no end. 

Jay just sighs, pulling into an empty parking lot before turning around and heading in the opposite direction. Towards your apartment. 

The rest of the car ride passes in stilted silence, neither of you willing to break it. 

Jay is the first one to speak, but it’s not until you’re sliding out of his passenger seat, back turned towards him. 

“Good night, ___.”

For a moment, you consider just ignoring him. But it feels petty, even for these circumstances. For now, you’ll just have to trust that he needs time to find a way to tell you the truth. 

“Good night,” you tell him. But you still don’t look back.

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

READ PART TWO HERE

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

note: I AM SO ANNOYEDDDDD this was all supposed to be one long fic, not two parts, but tumblr's post block limit got me. Honestly I don't know how I avoided it this long. Anyway the second part is written and will be posted soon. In the meantime, let me know what you're thinking so far! As always, thank you for reading ♡

[c-duceusclay]

Let's fucking gooooooo

shutupshutupshutup

you're right but words still hurt

i feel like an anime character where the insults stab them in the chest a bunch.

[crushsblogstories]

Touchy Feely

How touchy I think some One Piece men are

WARNING(S)!

None of these are my characters!

Suggestive SEXUAL themes! MINORS DNI!

Swearing!

MINORS DNI!

Pronouns! Not specified

Time! Not specified

Touching! Is a given cause of the title..

NOT PROOF READ

What the frick guys... In my OP last os/hc I could make Sanji's name yellow. Now I can't ˙◠˙ I usually don't use 'y/n' but I did like maybe 3 times?

Luffy

I feel like he'd be superrr touchy but in the proximity way both decently and indecently

He is completely wrapped around you during cuddles and if you're a big spooner you're facing eachother cause he NEEDS to have his arms around you.

If he's horny his arms mayyy or may not extend to fondle or 'tickle' some places in a circular motion

Kisses you all over.

One time you were upset and absolutely would. Not. talk to him so he was full on on his knees with a singular tear

"Pleaseeeeee! Talk to meeeeee! I'm sorryyyyy!"

You wouldn't let him kiss you earlier that morning so instead he grabbed your hand and started kissing up your arm, up and back down your neck, and you stopped him when he tried going to your chest because you were openly on deck

PDA wise he has no boundaries, knowledge, or care of what should or should not be done or said outside of just you and him.

Still kisses you all over, gets wayyyy to touchy and fondles a bit too much sometimes even a hand down ur pants or up ur shirt What? His hands r cold

Will absolutely tell you if he's in the mood.

"I want to have sex." "What.." "I WANT TO HAVE SEX" for the island's whole market to hear

Woohoo wise he doesn't care. Touch, no touch, doesn't matter as long as you or he is getting it good. Will keep going until both of u actually CAN NOT MOVE and we all know he's energetic

Zoro

I feel like he'll hold your waist, stand directly behind u, rest his head on you, and so on.

He's the type to prefer you to hold his wrist or arm instead of holding hands but if you ask or prefer holding hands he'd 100% be open.

PDA wise go back to the first sentance. He believes anything he does to show how much he adores and appreciates you shouldn't stop just because of location or people.

That goes to say, he's also not as bad as Sanji. If he gets jealous? He will ABSOLUTELY say something sexuall, not sensual, something completly lewd and act on it later. If he's REALLY jealous he'll do it right then and there

(Some guy's flirting with you and Zoro, who walked away for like 2 seconds, overheard) "Can I just say, I travel a lot, I've been across the world, and I've never seen anyone as captivating as you. I'm glad I layed eyes on y-"

"They had one room left, we're lucky. Ready to go?" Let's be fr.. It wasn't really a question..

He completely ignored the guy's presence and went straight to you, playing with the hem of your pants/skirt. When the guy just stands there in shock he reahes his hands way to low.

Boinking wise he'll hold your hands over your head, grip your thighs when eating u out, just holds whatever is closest for that position.

Sometimes he'll grab your face when you kiss even if one of his hands are preoccupied (legit hovering over you.. GET THOSE GAINS)

Sanji

I feel like it takes the whole of him not to touch you sensually in public but he also doesn't like to do it often in case you take it as objectifying or he only likes you for your body/looks.

If you have a conversation about it he'd start after it but if not he'd slowlyyyy introduce it over like 2 years

His head is in your neck during all hugs kisses may be included

Secluded hugs might have his head in your chest, sometimes even eating you out/sucking your cock

PDA wise he usually has a hand on your hip, is holding you hand or interlocking pinkies, and will be down for you sitting on his lap.

The first few times u sat there you felt a surprise.

Anything private doesn't really change in public, he'll tone down what he really means or wants to do though

"I want to slurp everything you have/suck you dry then pound you so good all you can say is my name." {Translates to} *1 Neck kiss, *agreeance to whatever you said, *starting to rub inner thigh

Boinking wise it's all about you. If you like being touched best believe he's all over you. If you don't or it's to an extent he'd probably get turned on at the loss of contact but best believe you two are cuddling for and hour after the clean up.

He likes to worship your body like your a god(dess) so he's touching everywhere and fucking every hole that your comfortable with ofc

Again, if your not SUPERRR big on touching during sex he's kissing, sucking, and eating any and everything he can.

Usopp

I feel like he likes light touch and proximity in a lowkey wholesome way

He would absolutly melt at even the thought, mention, or ask of holding hands - In later seasons he would warm up to it

One time he held your hand up in celebration and forgot to let go. When he realized he was red asf

He would be the hugging cuddling type but like I said, when he gets more comfortable with it he'd probably just let his hands roam your body, just liking the contact, even in his sleep.

"Y/nnn" It was a sleepy moan, one hand roaming up and another down.

PDA wise he'd hold hands and interlock pinkies, sit next to you to touch knees or thighs and might play footsies if he can't

Woohoo wise? He likes to see you but gets embarassed if you see the faces he makes.

He'll hide his face in your neck or chest kissing it as he does for as long as he can before he absolutely needs to see you

He absolutely CANNOT do bondage he NEEDS to feel your skin on his other than being inside you (Or u inside him ʅ(o-<)ʃ *wink)

When I say absolutely cannot I mean his pp would go floppy if it wasn't you

But it be pretty hard for him to cum if that's a thing you're into

..

Get it? Pretty hard?

Anyways.. He'd still be down

A/N - IM WORKING ON THE LAST CAMPING TRIP I PROMISE PLSPLS

I'll try to get it out next week

[ssivinee]

❥ 𝙰 𝙱𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚈𝚘𝚞

Le Sserafim! Kim Chaewon x F reader [Soulmate AU]: In a world where, by the age of 18, you and your soulmate are gifted a book that links you to each other. You disliked the thought of a book dictating who she’ll spend the rest of her life with. Meanwhile, after years of owning the book, Chaewon realized you didn’t care to write in the notebook, using it as her personal diary, ESPECIALLY when the idol industry was beginning to fuck her over.

Word Count: 5.9 k

Author's Note: ya'll idek what to say, writing this was just so much fun, but it does feel a bit rushed so pls have mercy on meeeeee👹👹. BUT ONTO THE NEXT RAHHHHHHHHH

➳ Character Concept - Na Y/n

You were at home, buried in a stack of paperwork your boss and coworkers had piled onto you. The nine-to-five life shouldn’t be this brutal, but the workload hit you hard again. Being the new hire came with a catch: everyone seemed to drop their tasks onto you, and you weren’t in the position to refuse.

As you leaned back and stretched, your eyes drifted away from the papers, landing on the tall bookcase in your workspace. You weren’t much of a reader and rarely touched any of the books lined up there.

Most were your sister’s, left behind each time she visited, and when she didn’t bother taking them back, you’d eventually set up the bookcase instead of reminding her. It turned out to be the perfect place for one book in particular—the one you always avoided.

The book was a beautiful thing, really. It had a hardcover in a muted tea green, soft and elegant, with details engraved in dark green, gray, and sage. Intricate floral patterns ran along the edges, almost like ivy climbing an ancient wall, making it the most mysterious-looking book among them all.

Your name was delicately written on the spine in white cursive. As you looked at it, you had to admit it was the kind of book that could draw anyone in—if it didn’t carry the purpose it did.

In this world, everyone was destined to have a soulmate. From birth, every person had one match waiting somewhere, and at eighteen, you received a book like this one—a "mirror book," as people called it. The book was always explained as “one book split into two,” and each soulmate would receive a half.

Whatever your soulmate wrote would appear in your book, and whatever you wrote would show in theirs. It was a way to communicate without knowing each other’s names, faces, or locations, a silent promise between two people meant to be together.

When you first received it, you thought it was a fascinating concept: a link to someone the world had chosen just for you. The book had arrived out of nowhere, in a plain box on your doorstep.

You’d been a little curious then, but as the years passed, you left it unopened, letting it collect dust on the shelf. It had lit up often enough—sometimes three or five times a month—meaning your soulmate had written something. But you never looked. 

Right on cue, the book started glowing faintly, the light seeping out around the spine and pages, a warm, soft pulse calling for your attention. Before you could even consider reaching for it, though, your phone rang, breaking your gaze.

“Yes, boss?”

“...”

“I’ll have it done by morning.”

You hung up, rolling your eyes at the extra load. This was going to be a long night.

“Unnie, manager-nim asked for you!” The call echoed through the building, and Chaewon turned, catching the eager wave from the maknae, who gestured for her to hurry. Chaewon sighed, walking down the maze of hallways toward the conference room. Awards season was approaching, and she assumed this would be a meeting about the group’s recent success.

Inside the conference room, several higher-ups sat around a long table, each one wearing a mask that hid their faces and reactions. Their eyes shifted around, avoiding direct eye contact with her, which was never a good sign.

“Chaewon-ssi. Please, take a seat.” One of the men, scrawny and stern-looking, gestured toward the chair in front of them. She complied, sitting as they exchanged uneasy glances. 

The man cleared his throat and spoke, “Your latest comeback did amazing. With everything the group has gone through in the past year, this is a positive step forward.” Chaewon nodded, grateful to hear some acknowledgment of their hard work. But she could see through the act he was putting on. Their body language said more than their words.

A woman seated near the end of the table, probably the senior among them, coughed and caught Chaewon’s eye. “This isn’t enough, though,” she began, her tone dripping with the authority they always tried to wield over the idols. 

Chaewon adjusted herself in the seat, looking directly at the woman. “Not enough? Sales exceeded expectations, and the public response has been better than any release in recent months,” she replied. As leader, she knew their numbers inside out, and there was no way they could brush off the group’s success.

The woman only shook her head. “Still, it’s not enough. We need a broader reach and more engagement. We have high expectations for you all, you know?” 

Chaewon’s jaw tightened, but she kept her tone measured. “So, what now?”

A man leaned forward, expression blank but voice patronizing. “You’ll be entering a public relationship with TXT’s Yeonjun. We’re aiming for a six-month duration.”

Chaewon’s stomach twisted. She and Yeonjun had always been friendly, but this? It wasn’t what she’d signed up for. She was aware of the shipping and that some people even liked their friendship, but she didn’t think it would cause her to be in this position.

She knew her job required sacrifices, but the pressure from HYBE had been pushing everyone in LE SSERAFIM to their limits lately. Scandals over the past months had put the entire company on edge, and the members felt it—a growing resentment they couldn’t afford to show.

One misstep and they could lose everything they’d worked for. So, they remained civil, swallowing their frustration to keep moving forward.

Chaewon forced herself to keep a neutral expression, nodding as if this decision was acceptable. But inside, frustration was simmering, her fists clenched under the table. As soon as the meeting ended, she left, biting back any words that might betray her true feelings.

Back in the privacy of her dorm, she took a shaky breath, pulling her soulmate book from a drawer on her nightstand. The cover was a deep tea green, with dark green, gray, and sage details, and her name was written in fine cursive.

The book had been her lifeline whenever she felt overwhelmed or needed an escape. She opened it to a blank page, the edges of earlier entries slightly frayed from countless hurried scribbles over the years.

Chaewon hadn’t heard from her soulmate, not once since receiving the book. At first, she’d wondered if they just weren’t interested, but over time, she’d pushed that thought aside. Her schedule left little room for those kinds of distractions anyway. The book slowly became more like a diary, a safe place where she could let out the thoughts and frustrations she didn’t share with anyone else.

With a sigh, she picked up a pen and began to write.

Today was another reminder of how little control I have while I’m in this industry. They’re forcing me into a relationship with Yeonjun. He’s a friend, and this feels so wrong. I wish things were different. Sometimes, it feels like my life isn’t even my own. I joined this world to entertain and make music, to perform. But now, everything is about to be carefully planned and scripted, right down to who I’m supposed to “love.” They say it’s for the group’s success, to keep the fans engaged in any way, but I’m being used. I’m literally just a pawn in this damn company. And Yeonjun… deserves better than this, too. This just isn’t fair to either of us. I can’t even talk to the members about it. This is something I have to deal with myself. The members are trying to fake it and avoid conflict with the higher-ups. Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like if I could share all of this with my soulmate. If they’d understand. Or maybe they’d just tell me to hang in there, to keep going… But you’re silent, as always. Maybe that’s for the best. Maybe they’d just think I was selfish, complaining about things that most people only dream of. But sometimes I feel trapped, more than I ever expected.

She paused, staring at the ink as it dried on the page. The book remained silent as always, no answer appearing on the next page. She hadn’t let herself think too much about why her soulmate had never written back. Right now, it was almost better this way—just her and her thoughts. 

As she closed the book, she felt a little lighter, the weight of the day lifting just enough. Even if her soulmate didn’t write back, having a place to confide gave her a sliver of peace.

It was your day off, and things were going smoothly despite the usual workload. Your sister, Haeun, was visiting with your two nephews, who were busy turning your home into their personal playground. Meanwhile, Haeun sat on your couch, deeply engrossed in her own mirror book. Of all the books she’d left at your place over the years, that one was never one of them.

She had already met her soulmate, Junseo, years ago, so it puzzled you as to why she still read it so often. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Haeun asked in her usual goofy tone when she caught your stare.

You kept typing on your laptop but glanced up. “Just wondering why you still read that book so much. You and Junseo met six years ago.”

Haeun gently shut the book, setting it on the coffee table. “Because I like reminiscing about when we used to write to each other.”

Her response made you raise an eyebrow. You’d never understood the interest in the concept of it. “I don’t get it,” you admitted bluntly. “How can anyone let that stupid book dictate who they spend their life with? Isn’t it kind of deranged? I mean, sure, the world picks your soulmate based on your preferences or whatever, but preferences change all the time. What’s so magical about it?”

Haeun smirked, clearly amused by your usual skepticism. “You’re so closed-minded about the mirror book,” she said with a shake of her head.

“You don’t have to choose your soulmate. You can end up with anyone you want. But the soulmate from your mirror book? That’s a unique connection. It’s not just about preferences—it’s about something deeper. Like…” She paused, searching for the right words. “It’s like the red string of fate.”

Her explanation caught you off guard. All your life, you’d thought the mirror book only matched people based on their likes and dislikes by your mother and father. Yet Haeun was making it sound like it was something much more deeper.

“When I met Junseo a month after my 18th birthday,” she continued, her voice soft with the memory, “it felt like a part of me I didn’t even know was missing suddenly clicked into place.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying to dismiss the strange sensation her words stirred in you.

“When you meet your soulmate,” Haeun said, her eyes warm and knowing, “it’s not just love. It’s a kind of happiness you can’t find anywhere else.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, sure. Sounds like a fairy tale to me.”

Haeun groaned, clearly irritated. “Look, you don’t have to believe me right now. But there’s no harm in reading your book, you know?”

Her words lingered as the day went on. You spent time with your nephews, running errands, baking cookies, and even decorating a small cake for Haeun. These were the moments you loved—putting smiles on faces with little things. Yet, in the back of your mind, her suggestion gnawed at you.

That evening, after everyone had gone home, you found yourself sitting in your office, the tea-green book in your hands. Its presence felt heavier than it should, as if all the weight of the past seven years had settled in your lap.

You stared at the intricate cover, tracing the engraved details. The accents of dark green, sage, and gray caught the dim light, and your name on the spine gleamed in delicate white cursive. This book had followed you from place to place, always hidden—stuffed in boxes, shoved on high shelves, or buried in your bookcase.

Taking a deep breath, you opened it for the first time.

The pages were filled—hundreds of them, written over the course of seven years. The first few entries practically radiated excitement.

I can’t believe I got my book! I wonder what you’re like. Do you like music? Because I love it. I hope we have that in common.

The enthusiasm made you chuckle. Your soulmate seemed like a hopeless romantic, pouring her heart onto the pages. She mentioned being a trainee at Wollim Entertainment, and her youthful optimism was almost contagious.

But as you flipped through, the tone shifted. She grew demoralized, apologizing repeatedly for your silence, even wondering if she’d done something wrong. Then came a time jump—2018.

Wow, it’s been a while. I almost forgot this book existed. I don’t know if you’re reading it or if you’ve even opened it, but I think this book will be my diary from now on. Today, I finally debuted. It’s not under Wollim, but it’s a step. We’re going to be big. I just know it. The members are amazing, and we’ve already bonded so much over the course of a few months. I’ll always have their backs, no matter what happens.

You paused, curiosity piqued. She hadn’t debuted under Wollim?

Further entries painted a bittersweet picture. Two years later, there was another major update:

After a great two years, we finally disbanded. It was a bittersweet end to this chapter of my life. Our last concert was… emotional. Wonyoung and Yujinie wouldn’t stop crying. I don’t know what comes next for me. Back to training, I guess?

Tear stains dotted the page, their presence tugging at something in your chest. Her sadness felt strong, your heart feeling heavy at the sight of it, her uncertainty painful. You skimmed forward, finding more messages filled with longing for her old group and tentative hope for the future.

Finally, you reached the most recent entry, written just a week ago:

I don’t know how to feel. They’re making me go into a public relationship with Yeonjun. It’s for the group’s image, they say. I know it’s just business, but it feels wrong. I wish things were different.

The words sent a chill down your spine. Yeonjun? You didn’t keep up with K-pop much, but the name was vaguely familiar. You grabbed your phone and typed “K-pop Yeonjun” into the search bar. As the results loaded, one name stood out:

Kim Chaewon.

Your heart skipped a beat. Kim Chaewon? As in Chaewon from IZONE? Chaewon of LE SSERAFIM?*

Your fingers tightened around your shirt as your heartbeat quickened. Your soulmate is Kim Chaewon?

The thought left you reeling. She was a celebrity, and you? You were just an ordinary office worker. Insecurity crept in, making your stomach churn. What would she even think of you?

But maybe… maybe the first step was to stop overthinking and just write back. You reach for a pen, trying to piece together the first words you’d ever be telling her.

Hi. I don’t even know where to begin… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not writing back all these years. I promise it wasn’t because I didn’t care. I just—I didn’t know how what to think of this, to be honest. The idea of a soulmate… seemed fake to me. I thought it was better to live my life without the pressure of this book defining who I should love or be with. But after reading everything you’ve written… I realize how unfair that was to you. You’ve poured so much of yourself into these pages, and I left you alone in it. For that, I’m deeply sorry. I also didn’t expect you to be… well, you. I figured from context your Kim Chaewon. You’re not just anyone. You’re someone the world knows. Someone who’s achieved so much, worked hard, and faced many challenges. You’ve gone through a lot, and I can’t imagine how lonely it must’ve been to write in here, not knowing if I’d ever read it or respond. I’m also so, so sorry about what you’re going through with this “relationship” situation. You don’t deserve that. I don’t know what to say other than it’s unfair, and I wish there was something I could do to make it better. I’m not sure if this is enough to make up for all the silence, but I’m here now. If you want to talk, I’ll listen. I promise.

Chaewon was sprawled on her bed, the dorm oddly quiet for the first time in a while. Most of the members were out at the company for various schedules, but Chaewon had managed to secure a few hours to herself.

She had been trying to relax, scrolling aimlessly through her phone, but her thoughts were heavy, weighed down by the fake relationship looming over her.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, her mirror book began to glow.

She froze, her phone slipping from her fingers onto the blanket. The soft, ethereal light from the book seemed almost unreal, and her heart leapt to her throat.

It had never glowed before. Not once.

Her hands trembled as she reached for it, hesitant. The idea of opening the book and finding nothing—a cruel glitch in the universe’s matchmaking—was terrifying. But what if there was something?

Taking a deep breath, Chaewon flipped open the book to the latest page. Her eyes scanned the handwriting, unfamiliar yet strangely comforting. With each word she read, her chest grew lighter.

She pressed a hand to her mouth, emotions crashing into her all at once. Relief. Sadness. Hope.

Your apology softened the ache she’d carried for years. The acknowledgment of her struggles, of her loneliness, made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t expected. But more than anything, she was just grateful. She was grateful that her soulmate had finally reached out, even if it was just this once.

She let out a shaky breath, wiping at her eyes before they could spill over. Grabbing a pen, she carefully began to write her response, her hand steady despite the storm of emotions she currently felt.

Hi!  Thank you for writing to me. You didn’t have to, but I’m so glad you did. I won’t lie. There were times I thought you might never write back, and I convinced myself that was okay. But seeing your words today… it means more than I can put into words. You don’t need to apologize. I get it. This whole soulmate thing is overwhelming. Honestly, it scared me, too, when I first got my book. I kept thinking, “What if they don’t like me? What if I’m not enough?” But you are enough. You’re more than enough. Don’t ever feel like you’re not because of who I am or what I do. I’m just a person. I get scared and confused, too. I want to know more about you. Who you are, what you like, what makes you happy. Anything you want to tell me, I want to know. And if you’d rather take things slow, that’s okay, too. No pressure. Just… thank you for responding. Even if it’s only this once, it means the world to me.

Chaewon closed the book, her smile wide and genuine. It had been years, but finally, you made yourself known to her. The weight of uncertainty, the questions she had carried for so long—they didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

Without hesitation, she grabbed her phone and opened the group chat with her members.

Chae GUYS. MY MIRROR BOOK GLOWED.

The chat quickly exploded with notifications.

Zuha WOAHHH No way?? Are you serious?! 😲

Smiley Potato Well finally!!!!! What did they say???

Kkura unnie finally?? after all this time? what did you write back?? 🫣

Jennifer HOLD UP …what if it’s a scam? 🤔 soulmate catfishing could totally be a thing.

Chaewon rolled her eyes, laughing softly as she typed her response.

Chae i don’t think it’s fake! they wrote about stuff that only someone who read a lot of the book would know like the PR thing with Yeonjun 👹 they even apologized for not writing all these years

The chat went silent for a few moments, as if the group collectively held their breath.

Smiley Potato okay, but like are you sure they’re genuine?

Chaewon i am it didn’t feel fake it felt… real like they’ve been holding back for a long time but wanted to make things right 🙂‍↕️

Zuha awwwwww that’s so sweet 🥹

Kkura unnie well, don’t scare them off just take it slow

Chaewon nodded to herself, grateful for their support, even if some of them were skeptical. For the first time in a long while, her excitement replacing the weight of her worries.

The next morning, you sat at your desk, the tea-green book lying closed in front of you. Your gaze lingered on it, anticipation bubbling in your chest. When you finally opened it, the latest entry made you smile.

Chaewon had accepted your apology. She hadn’t held onto any anger or resentment. Instead, her words were warm, curious, and welcoming. It felt nice on your conscience knowing she didn’t hate you.

You leaned back in your chair, staring at the blank page in front of you. Your mind raced with what to write. It was weird, wasn’t it? Sharing your life with someone you didn’t even know? Still, she’d written so much about herself over the years. The least you could do was give her the same.

Picking up your pen, you began to write.

Hi again. I wasn’t sure if I’d write back so soon, but your reply made me smile. Thank you for not hating me after all this time. I guess I should tell you a little about myself?  But, to be honest, I think you might find me pretty boring. I work a dumb office job that keeps me way too busy, but it pays the bills, so I can��t complain too much. My real passion, though, is baking. I love making cakes, cookies, pastries—you name it. I dream of opening my own little bakery one day, but, well, starting a business here isn’t exactly easy. My parents live in Jeollanam-do, in a small village near Boseong. You’d love it there—the green tea fields stretch on forever. I visit when I can, but it’s tough to find time with work and everything. My sister, Haeun, lives closer to me. She’s married and has two kids who are absolute terrors but in the cutest way possible. They keep me on my toes whenever they visit. Oh, and my favorite color is green, probably because of where I grew up. It reminds me of home, of peace, of the simpler times before life got so… complicated. Anyway, that’s me. Just an ordinary person in a very ordinary life.

You paused, biting your lip as you reread what you wrote. Did it sound too plain? Too uninteresting? Shaking off the self-doubt, you finished your entry.

I hope this isn’t too boring for you to read. I’m sure your life is much more exciting. But I’d love to hear more about you, too. If you don’t mind, that is.

Setting the pen down, you closed the book, feeling both nervous and hopeful. You weren’t sure what would come next, but for now, it felt good to share a piece of yourself with her.

The next day, Chaewon’s schedule was packed with photoshoots and rehearsals, but her mirror book sat discreetly in her bag. During a break, she pulled it out, the soft green glow catching her attention. She flipped it open, her lips curling into a smile as she read your latest entry. Your awkwardness, your humility—it was endearing in a way she hadn’t expected.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “So ordinary, huh?” she muttered to herself, the amusement lingering in her expression. Her heart felt lighter, and for the first time in days, she didn’t feel so weighed down by everything else.

As the crew shuffled around, prepping for the next shot, she quickly grabbed a pen and began to write back.

I don’t know why you think your life is boring. Reading your words makes me feel like I’m learning about a whole new world. Honestly, your passion for baking? It's amazing. I can’t even crack an egg without causing a disaster, so I’m already impressed. Life on my end… it’s exciting, but not always in good ways, like this whole PR relationship thing. It feels like I’m constantly trying to prove something to the world, even when it doesn’t feel like me. Training life was hard, but this industry is even harder sometimes. There’s always something—rumors, hate, expectations. And now, with this, I can already feel the negativity piling on, even though I’ve been avoiding social media the past few days. My members, though, have been helping me get through it. Well, mostly. They’re a little skeptical about you, but I can’t blame them for being cautious. But you feel real to me. Your letters, your thoughts— calculated. They’re just you. And you’re cute, by the way. The way you write, stumbling over your own words like you’re nervous about sounding silly? It’s adorable. I hope you know that. I really hope we can meet one day. I don’t know when or how, but the idea of finally seeing you face-to-face makes me… excited. Nervous but excited.

Chaewon closed the book just as the photographer called her name. She tucked it away, a soft smile still on her face as she returned to the set.

What she didn’t realize was that fate was already weaving its threads, and it was only a matter of time before your paths crossed for real.

It was a random day when, Haeun, insisted on introducing you to a friend of hers over lunch. You hadn’t thought much of it at first—Haeun was always the social butterfly of the family, her circle of connections ranging from neighbors to industry professionals.

The three of you met at a cozy restaurant downtown. Haeun’s friend, Sojung, was sharp, poised, and had an air of effortless confidence about her. As the conversation flowed, you shared polite smiles and nods while your sister took the lead. But when the topic shifted to your baking, Sojung’s interest piqued.

“Haeun tells me you’re amazing at baking,” Sojung said, her tone warm and encouraging.

You waved it off, feeling a little self-conscious. “It’s just something I’ve always enjoyed. Nothing big.”

Haeun, of course, wasn’t having it. “Nothing big? Please. Y/n’s been dreaming about opening her own bakery for years. She’s just never gone out of her way to try and do it.”

Sojung leaned forward slightly, her eyes lighting up. “Actually, I’ve been looking for a new business venture. I’d love to help you make this dream happen.”

The words caught you off guard. You blinked at her, unsure if you’d misheard. “You’d… help me? Really?”

“Of course,” she replied, smiling. “I’ve got the resources, and if you’ve got the talent and the vision, we could make something incredible together.”

So the two weeks that followed were a whirlwind. Your mornings still began with your mundane office job, but your evenings and weekends became consumed with planning. Together with Sojung, you toured potential locations, sketched ideas for the bakery’s design, and worked on everything from color schemes to menu concepts.

It was exciting, yes, but also exhausting. Balancing your office work that your boss, Younghyun, gave with the demands of setting up the bakery left you with little time for anything else. Even writing to Chaewon, which had quickly become a bright spot in your life, had to be put on hold.

But when the bakery finally opened, it felt surreal. The storefront was everything you’d imagined—soft pastels, elegant displays, and the warm aroma of freshly baked goods greeting every customer who walked through the door. But in the chaos of launching your dream, you realized you hadn’t told Chaewon the name of the store.

That night, once the rush of the grand opening had died down, you finally sat down with your mirror book. Opening it, you felt a pang of guilt as you saw Chaewon’s last message still unanswered. Picking up your pen, you began to write.

Chaewon, I’m so sorry for not writing back sooner.   These past two weeks have been insane. My sister introduced me to a friend who offered to help me open my own bakery. It’s been a dream of mine for so long, but I didn’t think it would ever happen. Now it’s real, and I’ve been so busy trying to balance my job and getting everything ready that I haven’t had a moment to breathe. We finally opened today. It’s small but cozy, and I love it. I wish I could tell you where it is, but honestly, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that it even exists. Maybe one day, if we meet, I can show you in person? I hope you’re doing okay.  I know I’ve been terrible at keeping up, but I’ve thought about your letters a lot. Even in the chaos, they’ve stuck with me.  I’ll try not to disappear again, I promise.

With a deep breath, you closed the book, hoping Chaewon would understand. What you didn’t know was that your words would soon light up her mirror book, bringing a smile to her face during her own chaotic days.

The message from Chaewon came later that night, her handwriting as neat and lovely as ever.

Hey, Don’t apologize, really. I’m just glad you’re chasing your dreams.  It sounds like you’ve been through a lot, but I’m happy to know life’s heading in the right direction for you. Your bakery sounds so cozy, and I can already picture how it must look. I hope it becomes everything you want it to be. If we ever get the chance to meet, I’d love to visit. Don’t stress too much about writing back. Life gets busy, and I understand that. Just know that I’m always here, and I’m cheering you on from afar.

Reading her reply, you couldn’t help but smile. The warmth in her words, the genuine support—it was unlike anything you’d felt before.

In the days that followed, you did your best to keep up with her letters despite your increasingly hectic schedule. Your office job, under the relentless supervision of Younghyun, had become more demanding than ever. He piled project after project on your desk, and there were days you barely had time to think.

When you weren’t drowning in work at the office, you were juggling the new bakery, My Sweet Home. It was bustling with customers from the moment the doors opened. With only two employees to help you run the place, every day was stressful but you loved everything about it.

Even with everything going on, you brought your mirror book everywhere. During rare quiet moments, you would pull it out to read Chaewon’s latest messages, finding comfort in her words. Her letters became a kind reminder that someone out there cared about the small victories and struggles you were facing.

The following week, Yunjin heard about the opening of a bakery in Seoul that had been trending locally. Intrigued by the buzz, she convinced Kazuha and Chaewon to join her for a visit.

“It’ll be fun!” Yunjin chirped as they left their dorm. “And we can go incognito. Hats, masks—the whole deal. No one will know it’s us.”

Chaewon hesitated but agreed, curious about the bakery herself. The trio arrived at My Sweet Home to find the place packed with customers. The air was filled with the sweet aroma of fresh pastries and cakes, and every table was full.

“Wow, this place is popular,” Kazuha said, her voice muffled under her mask.

Yunjin nodded approvingly. “Told you it was worth the trip. Let’s grab a seat while we wait.”

Chaewon followed them inside, her gaze sweeping over the cozy décor. There was a warmth to the space that immediately made her feel at ease.

In the back, you were pulling trays of cupcakes out of the oven, each one perfectly golden and ready to be decorated. You had no idea that three idols were sitting in your café, let alone Chaewon herself. With a practiced hand, you quickly piped frosting onto the, now, cooled cupcakes, adding a sprinkle of edible glitter before carrying the tray out front.

As you stepped into the bustling café, your eyes scanned the crowd—and then froze.

There she was. Even with the mask and hat, you recognized her immediately. Her eyes locked with yours, and at that exact moment, your mirror book, tucked in the office area, began to glow faintly.

You saw the recognition in her gaze too, the moment she realized who you were.

Chaewon’s breath caught as she took in the sight of you. Despite the flour dusting your apron and your slightly messy hair, she thought you were beautiful, your eyes like a small puppy and your lips opened due to the shock.

You hesitated for a second before signaling toward the back with a nervous gesture, hoping she’d understand. To your surprise, Chaewon nodded and quietly slipped away from the table, leaving Yunjin and Kazuha to distract themselves with the menu who never noticed her disappearance.

In the small back room of the bakery, you paced nervously until Chaewon appeared. She closed the door softly behind her, pulling down her mask and revealing a warm, slightly nervous smile.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the reality of meeting for the first time sinking in.

Then, without warning, Chaewon stepped forward and wrapped her arms around you. Her embrace was gentle yet firm, and the faint scent of lavender surrounded you, soothing your nerves.

“Hi,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the emotions you both were feeling.

“Hi,” you whispered back, still processing the fact that she was here, that she was real.

“Uhm… I don’t even know what to say,” you tell here as the two of you came apart and she chuckles. “Well, I don’t think either of us were actually expecting this.”

"How bout' you start off with your name?"

You shake your head in a frenzy, "R-right. I'm Na Y/n. Nice to meet you, Miss Kim Chaewon." You reach out your hand for a handshake, but she gives you another hug, this one feeling more softer than the last. Welp, at least you now knew she was a hugger.

She then began to think, “So~ My Sweet Home is yours?”

You nodded shyly as she looks around, making herself comfortable quickly. Chaewon’s eyes then fall onto some papers and a four trays of mint green cookies beside them. She points then looks at you, “Those are?”

“Oh, matcha cookies and mint chocolate chip cookies,” you tell her, showing her the paper of the recipe you formulated a week back. As if Chaewon’s eyes sparkled, she yelps in excitement. “I love mint chocolate chip! …Is it okay if I try one?” You giggled, finding her cute, and nod. The cookies were still warm as she took a bite.

As she tasted its flavor, she made cute noises and did a little dance, shimmying her body back and forth, with her cheeks puffed up full of sweets. You just couldn’t help but giggled at her antics, she was too cute for your heart to handle.

“Yeah, having a soulmate definitely isnt so bad,” you blurted out. You didn’t mean to admit that out loud, but you did mean it. Chaewon looks at you, her curious eyes looking playful as well. “Really?” She asked in a tiny voice, struggling to speak with her mouth still full.

You nod with a smile of your face, “Really.”

[theheartmold]

The Wigmaker Job (Final)

Notes and Thoughts - Part 7

pt1 | pt2 | pt3 | pt4 | pt5 |pt6 | pt7

This is my final installment in my attempt to organize my thoughts nearly line-by-line as I go through and analyze the relationship between Lucanis and Illario. These are my personal opinions and I'm open to discussion about any points I present here. DISCLAIMER: These posts I'm doing are my own analyses and are done with the intentional eye to examine the relationship between Lucanis and Illario. I try to source all my assertions from what the text is giving me. This is not Lucanis critical nor should it be taken as such.

this is going to be a longer post because I'm going to try to cover the last of everything at once. also as my disclaimer says I'm really in this for the relationship analysis which means I'm going to be breezing over a lot of this final fight with Ambrose. okay all of my caveats out of the way lets dive in

Lucanis felt no sympathy. They were, all of them, Venatori supporters, who either knew what Ambrose was doing or chose to turn a blind eye to indulge their own vanity. Ignorance is bliss, not innocence.

hm. okay hang on this is a doozy right off the bat in terms of Lucanis's subjective experience and opinions re: the Venatori when we remember that he is an assassin. a professional who kills people for money. Does Lucanis remember that? or does he think himself better because he's walking into this eyes wide open? so fucking chewy love this.

we can discuss it a little more when we skip down into the scene to where Lucanis and Ambrose are actually exchanging dialogue. wheeeee

"Normally, there's no judgment—only a contract. But for you, Ambrose, I made an exception." The Wigmaker raised a brow. "Oh? What makes me so special?" "You upset my delicate sensibilities." It was Ambrose's turn to laugh. "I thought a Crow could stomach anything—for the right price." Lucanis leveled the Wigmaker with a pointed look. "Not red lyrium." "Morality is not static. Right and wrong are a matter of perspective."

This interaction, to me, is the thesis of Lucanis's character. We can go line by line and pick apart what each one means to get everyone thinking. Come on guys come with meeeeee!

Line 1: Illario has been referring to the contract throughout this entire short story and it's been a point I've hammered in at pretty much every turn: Lucanis is not thinking like an assassin. He's letting his emotions, his morality, take precedence over the job.

Line 2: well. i actually don't have so much to say about what Ambrose says here but it is a good question. what DOES raise Lucanis's hackles so much as to cause a CROW to change their modus operandi?

Line 3: Lucanis is deflecting with a bit of humor here. He's not above the same dry wit that Illario is prone to, though his is usually more internal throughout the story expressed through his narration.

Line 4: Ambrose brings up the same point—they are PAID, HIRED KILLERS. paid money to kill. What about a trained killer implies that they'd blanch at anything? They certainly have a reputation to uphold.

Line 5: I had to go back to look at the red lyrium mention earlier in the story. Quick refresher—Ambrose was using red lyrium to keep his victims drugged and subdued and demon fodder pretty much lol. But Lucanis wasn't necessarily appalled at the use of red lyrium—not like he's been consistently appalled and horrified on behalf of the victims and slaves that fall under Ambrose's shadow. It also makes the previous lack of sympathy to those being killed by the demons interesting—guilty and not worthy of Lucanis's sympathy + vengeance by association, even though Ambrose tramples right over his guests and kills them, too.

Line 6: THIS. It's an excellent point to make to Lucanis specifically; morality is not static. Right and wrong are a matter of perspective. Sure, it means nothing to most people coming from the guy summoning demons and drugging people with red lyrium and killing them. But… let's just compare Lucanis and Illario? The "right" thing to do was different for them—the "right" thing in Illario's eyes was to finish the contract and leave. But the "right" thing to Lucanis—well, it was to get vengeance, pass judgment. Is it not so subjective? Lucanis says that the party guests deserve to die. Someone else might not.

Nothing irritated him more than self-righteous excuses. If you're going to do something terrible, just own it.

I'm really so obsessed with Lucanis and his mentality. Right here I just circled and scribbled the words "you're an assassin" but I suppose the point I wanted to make was that self-righteous excuses could be applied to him too? was that not what he was doing when he was changing up his plans on Illario to get vengeance and free the slaves? If you're going to do something noble, just own it.

You could argue that he did own it, but he just couched it behind the red lyrium excuse.

Hopelessness flooded the mage's eyes. "One day, someone will turn your work against you. Only then will you have some semblance of the emptiness you've made me feel."

I think this is the one good point I gave to Veilguard re: the Lucanis and Illario story-line because I did feel like this was interesting foreshadowing.

Fight ensues. Nothing really more interesting there that I want to dig into? Honorable mention to him talking to the abominations at the end, I guess; "you have your vengeance". Interesting. I don't think all of these abominations are victims, some of them are the high-blood mages that were there at the party, because he mentioned it earlier? Hmm. Thoughts to consider!

Immediately skipping past looking for Illario on their ship to check the CLEANEST TAVERN on the docks. And he's right. really fucking funny that did get me lmfao.

"get that man to stop yelling at me" ← see Illario's skills are useful!!! ok now we're about to get into the meat of the Lucanis&Illario dynamic that everyone loves to reference (even me)

"Yes, yes. I did my good deed for the year." ← Illario does keep his word! Just like Lucanis said.

The back and forth about the wine and bribery does something to me. "I think it makes it taste all the sweeter" from Illario versus Lucanis drinking it and saying that bribery hadn't spoiled the bottle. Obviously it's just saying that it isn't bribed? Or at least that Lucanis doesn't think— it means nothing I think I'm reading into this passage too much

Camille didn't make it and Illario is unfazed; "ah, well, frees me from promises I didn't intend to keep". sorry he's so fucking funny. Interesting that Lucanis chooses to tell him this? Does he think Illario was serious about the flirting? Does he feel bad about her death? Lucanis knew her NAME. Illario had to be reminded by referring to her as the guard-captain.

Illario offers to get a healer for the blood and Lucanis stubbornly refuses. Here we go everyone.

"All right," Illario said, topping off his glass. "We'll just pretend that's wine you're dripping all over the table." "What do you want me to say?" Illario's gaze grew hard. "How long are you going to keep doing this?" "Doing what?" "Caterina's bidding."

Obviously I don't think that Lucanis is thinking—or really wants to think—about how this ends, while Illario understands the game, the politics, the fact that Lucanis is passively letting this happen, and that Lucanis is continiously justifying Caterina's controll.

The wine turned in Lucanis's mouth. "Illario. Stop." "If I was in charge, you wouldn't have to do this anymore," he cajoled. "You could quit."

The main reason why I didn't write this out as an essay was because the very unsatisfying thesis is that you have to decide for yourself whether you think the writing from WMJ is consistent across The Wake & Veilguard. There's no indication from the narrator or from Lucanis whether Illario is being genuine here or not.

But I'm operating on the good faith that he is. Lucanis could quit! He's making an offer. Lucanis wants him to stop bringing Caterina into it, stop thinking ahead, stop making HIM think about where this road leads.

Lucanis stared at his cousin. "I don't want to quit." Illario sat back. The distance between them suddenly felt much wider than a table. "Even if it kills you," Illario whispered.

I actually don't think this was an indictment on Lucanis but an observation that Illario was making. He's not going to quit—even if it's going to kill him. I'm not sure those words were necessarily intended for Lucanis even if he heard them. My opinion though.

"Death is my calling," Lucanis stated, matter-of-fact. "Just as yours is to become First Talon."

I can go either way on this one. Lucanis is either saying that he wants to remain as a mere assasin who doles out death—or truly wants to die trying to avoid Caterina's placement of him as First Talon.

He clearly sees Illario as the one more suited for the task, but he won't tell Caterina that. His refusal to tell her 'no' is justified by how she raised them but it is crazy, man…

He smiled, hoping to ease the tension, but Illario's posture remained taut. "And if Caterina disagrees? If she thinks you're the better man for the job—" "I don't want it, Illario," Lucanis insisted. "But you wouldn't refuse."

Illario already knows that Caterina prefers Lucanis; they discussed this at the beginning. Everyone knows. Even Lucanis.

Lucanis finally answers Illario's question from that early scene! He doesn't want the job! But, no. He won't tell Caterina no, which is the real money question here. He's stuck and can't actually offer a solution to satisfy Illario—in fact, he offers no real solution at all.

"It's impossible to refuse Caterina," Lucanis admitted reluctantly. "Only prolong her, until she sees reason." He knew it wasn't the answer Illario wanted, but it was the truth. And in their line of work, honesty was hard to come by. Illario exhaled and lifted his wineglass in salute. "To reason, then." "To reason," Lucanis echoed."

To reason. [OUGH] I don't have a lot to add to this specific passage that I haven't already covered i just wrote "augh AUGH AUAUUUGHGHGH" all over my paper at this point. To reason! I'd argue Illario's crashout was justified but perhaps not reason. I see his reasoning.

Caterina was never going to see their reasoning. Only her reason matters. Why should she see reason? She has the way of it.

One last thing I want to cover before we part ways, lovelies. Although I will be making my Wake analysis later but that'll just be one long post lol.

Zara paused to marvel at herself. Every feature and proportion were in perfect symmetry. And yet, when she smiled, there was something ugly behind it.

Echoes Illario's description at the start of this story.

Quotes are either paraphrased or taken directly from The Wigmaker Job, written by Courtney Woods.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

"maybe i should call her" with the her in this case bein youmu.

MEIRAAA! MEIRA IM SO SORRY SWEETIE IM SO SORRY THAT RED-WHITE SHRINE MAIDEN HAS REPLACED YOU WITH ANOTHER SWORD GIRL WHO'S HALF DEAD AND 100% TOO BUSY TRIMMING SHRUBBERIES UP IN NOT-HEAVEN WITH HER ANCESTRAL BLADES TO ANSWER THE GOSH DANG PHONE

look its simple. reimu, marisa, and sanae are all in a non-exclusive throuple. reimu isn't seeing anyone on the side but those looks that weird samurai woman keeps giving her despite reimu absolutely not remembering her keeps making reimu go "maybe i should call her" with the her in this case bein youmu. marisa has been engaged to alice for five years and neither want to move in with one another. sanae and tsukasa are having the most dogshit sex known to both mankind and youkind. all three of them have fucked patchouli at some point. sometimes sakuya's there, but she's never involved.

[mordredpendragon]

hiii cain. for the ask meme: yvain of the lion!

YESSS OUR BOY !!!! thank you cen!

here's an yvain doodle for you! <3

putting the ask game under the cut

favorite thing about them

HIS LION <3 unironically my fav. that's his big kitty. gawain is to gringolet is to yvain is to his lion. i think its really funny that yvain just treats his lion like you would with a dog

ALSOOOOOOOO his madness arc.... the fact that he's divorced canonically is hilarious to me. he got divorced then got remarried. hilarious. he's laudine's puppydog forever

least favorite thing about them

nothing why would there be smth i dislike about yvain our boy. maybe the lack of retellings or modern stories that feature or center yvain? we need sooooo much more of him!

favorite line

changed my brain chemistry i fear. (source)

arthurian men yearning for their lady loves seriously hits different

brOTP

HIM AND GAWAIN 100% THEY'RE SO GOOD AAAHHHHH I LOVE FAMILY.

this part from Yvain: Knight of the Lion by M. T. Anderson KILLS MEEEEEE.

they're also together all the time in medlit, like in the welsh peredur, the knights peredur first meets (and befriends) is literally gwalchmai and owain.

Peredur son of Efrog tl. Sioned Davies

they're family attached by the hip + the fact that gawain literally followed yvain into banishment after he defended his mom morgan after trying to kill urien drives me insane. i love them. they're family its so important. doesn't help that @queer-ragnelle rewired my brain chemistry on their friendship/dynamic through her books lol. they're flops together and they're best friends its great.

and speaking of morgan, they're another dynamic i thinkn about so often too.

yvain loves his mommy !!!! steinbeck srsly changed me i NEEEDDDDD more stuff that includes him as morgan's son i think it's such an underrated and underutilized dynamic, there's so much to unpack there

The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights by John Steinbeck

I FEEL CRAZYYYYYY. + ewain saying that morgan never used magic and that she warns him against it? BRUHHHHH STEINBECK COME BACK AN YVAIN CENTRIC RETELLING COMING FROM YOU WOUL'VE BEEN SO FIREEEEE

OTP

him and his wifey laudine <3 <3 <3 <3 what else could there be <3

nOTP

i don't really have any tbh. just no incest ships for me.

random headcanon

i think he and laudine are into some crazy bdsm femdom shit in the bedroom does that count.

unpopular opinion

i don't really have an unpopular opinion i just think he should be utilized more. i'm pretty neutral on morgan's son being mordred in retellings/film, but it would be nice to see it be yvain for a change

favorite picture of them

pretty much everything in The Knight With the Lion by John Howe, John Howe is an artist i admire for his work in Lord of the Rings, so him having worked on Arthuriana as well is great!

[highfantasy-soul]

BACK ON MY HEATHER BASHING!

The show is doing such a great job accurately depicting irl people in this superhero show - from Fisk being an obvious Trump (but most certainly he's not the only foul, hateful, violent rich guy who's taken governmental power to expand his control), Daniel being 100% Musk and Trump bootlickers who think they can still be friends with people they harm (BB) as long as they 'aren't an asshole' about it, to Heather.

Heather Heather Heather - the most insidious real world parallel that I think a lot of people are actually missing.

She's the liberal who says 'ugh, white supremacists and antifa are the SAAAMMEEE', 'I can't tell the difference between leftists and alt-right Nazis!!!!!', 'Well if Trump says he's against rapist undocumented ppl, then I'm going to take him at his word and give him carte blanche to do whatever!!!!!! That doesn't make me a bad persooonnnn!!!!', 'You're showing signs of grief and actually angry about injustice in the world??? UUhhhhh, that's actually abusive toward MEEEEEE and you need to STOOPPP????? You're so mentally IILLLL if you're reacting negatively to the rise of fascism?????? Just like, get some help???????', 'A fascist evil mob boss who has harmed you in the past just invaded mine and your privacy by showing up at our private residence without permission and you're RAISING YOUR VOICE ABOUT IITTTTT????? AAAHHHHH ABBUUUUSEEEEEE!!!!!'

She's the 'reasonable' one. She's the therapist. She's the 'logical and polite' one. Matt is the aggressive violent one who just needs to chill out about injustice.

I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt in earlier episodes where she goes straight to kissing Matt instead of talking with him when he expressed frustration over Leroy's case - maybe she didn't want to therapize him and wanted to give him space to express his frustrations without her trying to 'fix' it for him. Give him space and address it later, or open the door for him to really talk about it if he wanted to.

If that's what she had been doing, cool, fine. It's not her job to 'fix' Matt and his frustrations about his job.

However, if that's ALL she ever does and ACTIVELY tries to get him to stop seeking justice and speaking out about the harm Fisk causes (and the good vigilantes have done), then that crosses the line. Her passivity wasn't a choice to not push in the moment - it is a permanent choice to NEVER engage critically with Fisk and his policies. To choose ignorance in the difference between those using violence to protect against evil and those using violence to PERPETRATE evil.

She's the liberal who wants everything to be polite, to be soft-spoken, to deny the aid those doing the hard work have provided you. "*I* saved myself from Muse" completely ignoring any help from those you've deemed 'undeserving'. That IF you are to protest injustice, you can only sit silently wearing a pink suit - to stand up and SAY something deserves a censure.

Honestly, the writing of her character is so real that it's frustrating as hell. We know people exactly like her. We see them every day. And we see what that leads to.

[petals2fish]

Welcome back to another installment of Petals Live-Blogs fic. Tonight we’ve got sunlit marble by @gigglesandfreckles-hp which is a jily one shot!

Don’t forget to leave your own review if you read it ❤️

“sunlit marble”

I’m totally outing myself as a gutter rat but all I can think of is Edward Cullen plz aldbdkajdbejw 😭🤣

ALSO unrelated to this fic but also related: I’ve never live blogged one of your fics before giggles omg first time!!📸 (that’s me taking a selfie of this monumental moment)

NEVER A BETTER TIME TO LIVE BLOG FICS THAN SHIRTLESS JAMES MAY AYYY

🎶🎶ITS THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEARRRR 🎶🎶

“But James is smiling so brilliantly, so blindingly, that it physically hurts. He pushes his goggles up into the wind-tousled mess of his hair, the headband long failed in its attempt to tame his inky, dark curls. A few of the more rebellious curls fall across his forehead, half-obscuring the eyes Lily has spent the better part of two years pretending she doesn’t think are the most incredible in existence.”

Lily is such a mood. I too, tend to stare at my boyfriend in wonder and awe.

“But his eyes are on her as he spreads his arms wide in invitation”

🎶 WHERES THE TROPHY HE JUST COMES RUNNING OVER TO MEEEEEE🎶👹👹👹👹

“Wanna be a rich man?”

Girl I’d pay thousands for a James Potter jersey in the parks at Universal I’m not even kidding I’d eat that shit up.

“His grin softens into something quieter, something just for her”

“He is entirely, unfairly shirtless.”

Just thank Merlin and hug him Lily.

“He even wiggles his fingers at her in encouragement.”

PLZ THIS IS SO FUNNY TO ME James is like: 😏😏

He laughs again—bright, golden, self-satisfied. “Sorry for the sweat,” he murmurs into her hair. “I like it,” she says.

THE SCREAM I JUST SCRUMPT AHHHHHHHH🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀 LILY EVANS YOU DIRTY HOE ILYSM 🤪🤪🤪🤪

“Oi! That tickles, Evans!” he laughs, squirming slightly away from her. Her eyes go wide. Oh no. Was she— What the actual fucking FUCK is wrong with her? “Sorry!” she squeaks, horrified.

File this under totally disastrous moments for Lily Evans that are 100% canon and 100% the reason James nearly passes out.

“Do you think you could walk in a circle if asked? Is my bare chest obstructing your brain’s ability to be linear, or does it interfere with all geometrical patterns? Triangles? How about parabolas?”

GIGGLES I AM CACKLING OVER HERE LOLOLOLOLOL

“Until I find you,” he says, grinning. “And we go somewhere quiet. And talk. And you get to decide whether I have a shirt on or not.”

Sorry I can’t find my BRAIN. It’s been BLASTED by this last line. The way I’d be just as feral as her. If not more, if someone said this to me. DAMN he’s good.

This fic was a joy to read. You are an amazing author. You deserve the whole world for this fic. Thank you for contributing to the most wonderful time of the year.

🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

[tmntxthings]

一Holiday Comps・゜・。

author’s notes: so last weekend me & mine decorated our own gingerbread houses, call me inspired ✨

author’s notes 2.0: *sigh* i couldn’t get this done during xmas, so sad, but i want it OUT of my drafts, totally lost the motivation after Donnie’s 😭 forgive meeeeee

warnings: cursing? competitive nature x10, unedited asf it’s 2:00 am rn :3

—————————————————————————

Leo

Obviously he would be trying really hard. Because if anything suddenly becomes a competition all this turtle is concerned about is being numero uno.

“We should up the stakes a bit. April! You’ll be the judge, anddddd add in stuff to like throw us off our game. Make it harder! Oooh time limit of 40 minutes?”

He’s like adding shit and making things way more complicated than just a, “Oh cool gingerbread house contest? When everyone finishes the judges can decide who wins!”

No! Nope! Not happening. This will be the X-Games of Gingerbread Comps. Glory or death type shiz. So how does this process that he thrust upon the whole gang work? Well let me just say he has no problem abiding by the time set.

But his house looks messy as hell. He had a very hard time getting the roof to stop collapsing and may have looked over at Donnie to see how he got it done. Icing? Everywhere. He has no problem when one of the challenges was to “Switch hands! Use your least dominant,”

Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Though some could argue that it didn’t matter what hand he used, it would have been messy either way. If one challenge was to switch seats and work on a brother’s gingerbread house be ready for a slick sabotage. One that Mikey may not have realized until his own foundation started fumbling, why were the walls caving in?! And what happened to the tree gummies that had been set aside?!

Leo happened, that’s what. Though he is quick to deny and not know the nature of those issues at all. By the end April is video recording to also get Sunita and Cass’s vote. Including Splinter that’s four! One for each turtle if everyone is lucky.

The responses on Leo’s house are making him pace. He can’t stay still as he hears Cass laugh out loud, wondering why the hell his gingerbread man is on the roof. “This one is a bit all over the place but, it’s got personality!” Is the saving comment from Sunita who revives Leo’s confidence in the whole ordeal

In the end I think with the time frame Leo definitely got shit on his house, but it doesn’t look all that pretty, one vote at least!

He’s butt hurt about whoever wins if it’s not him and definitely calls out his brother’s own flaws in their own work. Petty. P-E- to the T-T-Y~!

Donnie

If given an unlimited amount of time, I do believe Donnie would be a real rival in this house decorating competition. First of all he’s good with his hands, precision baby, precision!!! He has the most practice with fiddling around with crazy small parts. Those little sprinkle balls aren’t falling to the floor due to his hands.

Now he may not get a lot of them on, because this turtle will take up a lot of time just getting the foundation of the house perfect. The walls have to be straight! The roof cannot be uneven! April may have to stop him from using outside sources or trying to break the whole model build and go for something more his style.

Once he finishes with that Donnie probably took about 10 minutes alone with it having to be perfect. Icing is up next and oml this may be his downfall. There is so much to secure, and you have to take into account the drying time! The challenges he has no problem with either but they eat up his time completely!!

If April decides to do a bit of trivia, winner gets to penalize whomever he chooses, Donnie is most likely winning those even if April chooses a fair category like Jupiter Jim or Lou Jitsu. Trivia is just Donnie’s jam, and the only way he can get Leo to stop for two minutes or be able to eat one of Raph’s essential pieces like a peppermint decor!

Donnie’s build would be the cleanest, icing looking beautiful! Like touched of snow on the house! But he would hardly have any decorations due to sheer lack of time. He’d have a vote for sure but would get comments like, “It looks pretty simple!” or “This one doesn’t have a doorknob!”

“If I had more time,” would be his immediate come back. Puffing up and feeling defensive because this competition is definitely in his wheelhouse, but Leo of course had to make it to where a genius couldn’t thrive under such terse conditions. Hmph!

I’m sure April’s vote would be for Donnie

Mikey

He’s an artist, artists thrive in silly little gingerbread house competitions. I mean come on he’s the one who has the most creative ideas. Probably the most aesthetically pleasing as well!

But I fear Mikey will lack in the actual house building part. Which is literally just four slabs of gingerbread and the two more for the roof. He’d struggle to get it to stand. He’d struggle to get it to stay still. “Why does it keep MOVING?!” He’d be yelling out his frustration for sure

Even more so when he finally gets everything to stay in place only for one of the challenges to be switch houses. Leo getting his house and while Mikey doesn’t pay too much attention to what Leo is doing, when he gets his gingerbread house back it’s suddenly collapsing again?! He thought he had solved that problem! ACK! “LEO!!!” But no amount of calling his older brother out would change the fact that his house still isn’t put together

When…If he does get it together in time, you best believe he’s rushing to finally get to his favorite part! The decorations! He’s definitely eaten a couple of things without noticing it happening himself. It’s not exactly good candy, but candy is candy!

I think Splinter would vote for Mikey’s even if the house is crumbling, it’s a pretty crumbling house, out of all the brothers I think Mikey would win in a contest that wasn’t rigged by Leo!

Raph

I’m sorry, but he’d eat like half his materials. HE WOULD! So there wouldn’t be a house, maybe a shack if he’s lucky.

And on top of his appetite getting the best of him, everything is pretty darn small, and his fingers are chunky. This activity is just really not made for him but he’s doing his best, okay? His best with what he has left LOL

The hardest part would be decorating since the candy would be the smallest pieces to get on. He’d have icing everywhere, mostly on his fingers to which he would be licking clean, losing more material!!!

“Raph are you even trying???” Leo would goad, feeling that much better about himself and his standing even though he’s not doing much better as we have seen! Raph doesn’t let Leo get to him, he’s happy to just be doing something with the fam! And eating!

I think Cass would vote for this guy’s shack. Probably for some odd reason that I could never guess because she’s such a wild card to me sksksksks

[taylortruther]

I agree she is a person who thrives from external validation and that’s part of what has driven her to get where she is and I think she cares about things she doesn’t “have” to care about because that’s who she is as a person!

My friend and I were talking about her, you know, vast fortune and being like, wow if we had a fraction of that money we’d buy a compound in the woods and settle down with our closest friends and family and never work another day lol and the difference in mindset is one of many reasons she is Taylor Swift and we are not 😂

YEP. like, most very great artists/visionaries/icons/whatever are driven by these types of things. people who find peace or contentment in, say, being with nature, don't typically enter professions that scrabble for attention and awards, and vice versa. but if you are driven to fill a need inside you that wants external validation, then these types of numbers or records or awards matter a great deal. and if you are as hardworking and driven as taylor, you can transform that into control over a big part of industry like she has. not everyone does it because not everyone wants to or is truly capable and there are also many other factors at play (racial privilege, for example, or how the music industry has changed.)

and we all crave external validation to an extent, it just takes different forms. pointing out that taylor needs it and it drives her is not offensive to meeeeee. especially when she has literally said it herself and it is very obvious by her actions lmao

[sea-of-dust]

WHHHAAAAAAAAA

Lyney,Venti,Hu Tao x Gn! Reader

summary: imagine getting spooked on Halloween and then they get spooked by a nightmare.

Notes: lyney...LYNEYYYYYY, I got my ass kicked by @nian-7 for an event. Don't question it please it's a horrible story. Modern au

Hehe~ FYM HEHE. The amount of TIMES this man has scared the hell out of u during October. Magic tricks, flying shopping lists you name it he's scared you with it.

He adores you don't get him wrong, but it's fun seeing your scared expression, watching you cover your face and quiver its cute! But he does wonder if you do get infuriated

You can tell when he thinks this, only three or two scares on days he doubts, 5 or 4 when he's feeling cheeky, and one because he's either planning a bigger scare that may cause you to verbally scream, or if he just wanted to give you a break.

You can't really get back at him for his antics he just smiles. "My such a small spider for someone as delicate as you to hold" he takes it and kisses your cheek. You tried every scare you knew on him only for him to just turn it into a flirtatious move.

And so your final scare...one you didn't even think would scare him. You got out of bed to get some water stumbling out while he twists and turns in bed searching for you with his eyes closed, when he tries to find you and fails his eyes shoot open. You lean down to get some water hearing heavy steps toward you, stoppping suddenly you notice his distressed face when as soon as he lays his eyes on you he nearly tackles you, not saying a word yet trying to hold back his sniffles. "You alright?" You hug him softly but he hugs you tighter.

Trying not to show you his face he burries it into your chest. "Lyney?" You wrap your arms around his waist bringing him closer, hearing him take a few small breaths before looking up at you as if that never happened. "Ah my darling y/n! I guarantee nothing is-" "bull" you point at his cheek "your make-ups a bit smudged" rubbing it a bit watching it smear "must have been a nightmare, lemme help you fix it"

You help him wipe off his make up watching him avoid eye contact a few times. "What was it about?" sighing you scoot closer cupping his cheeks, he doesn't answer looking down a few times. "And why do you wear make-up while you- that isn't important whatever it was im sure youll feel better after you sleep" as soon as you finish the small tear drop and put down the brush he mearly tackles you. "Thank you..."

He's gonna make you wanna rethink your life decisions. "Hey y/n wanna know what month it is" "God please just get him away from me" "hehe"

He likes smaller scares only small kisses or random taps sometimes a whisper behind your ear.

The worst he will use the wind to blow at your ear, and then you turn around and see he's not there only to pop up upfront of you.

Best part for him? He always gets to show affection while bullying you. His two favorite things ever

His favorite activity during this time is dragging you to Haunted houses. "AHHHHHH Y/N ITS SO SCARY LETS LEAVE!!" "We already paid" "BUT THE GHOST IS SO REAL LOOKING AAAA" "you can litterally see the paint chipping" "PROTECT MEEEEEE" you have to give him piggy back rides out still not believing he's scared of a little wooden cut out, atleast he got cuddled by you at home saying something along the lines of "I'll cover your eyes next time don't worry".

Fun fact he "totally" wasn't he had diluc vogue for him horribly. "He just wanted to have an excuse to hug you" "with the way he yelps? That guy's got a problem" "yea..." flawless convincing

He wakes up in the middle of the night because he had a bad dream. Definitely hugs the life outta you. Sometimes they aren't even that scary but he still hugs you he just looks for any excuse for a cuddle

If you ever scared him you might be able to get him to cry. Of course you don't push him to that point unless he deserves it for thinking hiding a realistic spider sticker in the bathroom is funny but that's another story there's always a simple "scary figure in the dark!" Tatic. He's always fallen for it and will get behind you seeing it

The worst scare however will always be...DIONA?? he sees her in his nightmares. Just thinking of sneezing so uncontrollably infront of you, he knows you knew about his allergy but he's just scared of embrassing himself just because of a cat bartender. He already sees her flexing her ability to bring him to his knees trying to show why you shouldn't be like him

Only time he screams when waking up and the only time he dosent cuddle you after a nightmare. He practically shakes you awake about it. "I know there's a bit of cat hair on me" "really?" "No I just wanted you to get so scared you fainted please go to bed" you grab his arm pulling him down "it'll be fine I'll be sure to keep cats away" toying with him a bit pulling him closer. "Please let's just sleep" he hugs you back suddenly softly falling asleep after

COME HERE!!! she's using that ghost to torture you into staying by her side even more during this time of jumpscarin people.

This is like free ads "what if we use this time to promote the coffins as decor?" "Wouldn't that result in backlash?" "Not if they're of lower quality" she's definitely putting them on sale

She loves this time of year so much she is more into making you shop with her and then scaring you.

Not only with her ghost but also with locations she walks with you to. "It's once said people have come here only to not make it out the other side!" "They're right there tho" you point at the line exiting next to you. "Shush lemme continue my legend"

She also likes you scaring her from behind but also just appearing from normal. "BOO!" "Oldest trick in the- WOUAGH" the ghost busting through her face suddenly as she gives the thing a high five. "Never do that again" "Doin it again!" "No!"

She will resort to using realistic looking monsters and bones. "Watch we'll scare away these kids!" "That's not the point" she shushes you quickly "who knows maybe they'll be too busy running away to even get any candy" "just don't take all the candy for yourself" "I won't after all you'll always be at the bottom of the bucket" you sigh harshly kissing her cheek "I hate your jokes so much"

You don't really try to scare her back knowing you can't top her in this department. So you just took em....even the horrendous petnames.

"Hey pookie" your eyes widen at that nickname. "No." "You know well enough it's dangerous to go alone~" "honey please stop trying to make me join your weird ghost hunting thing" "noooo come on its 50 percent off" "there wasn't a price anyway" you went into the mountains staying straight faced even when some of the scares got you, thank God for your ability to appear as if you don't care.

She goes to sleep at night happy she got to bully you, until that nightmare hit her like a truck, her eyes shoot open as she slowly scoots over to you wrapping her arms around you. "You wouldn't right?" She blows near your ear. "You wouldn't..." she lays as close to you as physically possible

She'd fall asleep soon after and then wake up with a "WOAAOAOAAOAOA" "huh?" "YOU" she covers her face inching away. "I what?" You could feel your eye bags get darker so you turn around and try to go back to sleep, unfortunately she gets all up in your face "you didn't really say you wouldnt love me if i didnt exist" "WHAT?!?" You wake up fully at her statement turning quickly toward her. "YOU DID IN MY DREAM!" "WELL DREAM ME CAN FLY OFF SOMEWHERE AND NEVER COME BACK!!" You hug her tightly "I would love you if you didn't exist, you mean alot to me even if you're horrid this time of year" placing a small kiss on her cheek you go back to sleep rather quickly. Doesn't stop her from clinging onto you like a stuffed toy. She'll be enjoying playing with your hair for the next few minutes before she falls asleep aswell