#what if our muses hated each other or were friends or were lovers or were rivals or-

[darabeatha]

      /  That moment u wanna plot but have no idea how to start-

[nmakii]

BURNT OUT

— love comes in different forms; some are passionate, and some are quiet. and, some loves are meant to burn out

— this is so me and my ex friends core xx

out of all the positions in hell to be, being the lover of the radio demon isn’t so bad. he’s quite the gentleman and very kind. he gives you everything you need— materialistic desires, home cooking with his own recipes, even his love.

but, his love— it doesn’t feel real. or moreso, it doesn’t feel genuine. from the people in your lives; love is supposed to be fiery, passionate, and strong. yet, alastor’s love is quiet, but undying. every touch gave you butterflies, yet there was no passion in his fingertips when he’d hold you close. he didn’t treat you differently from how he treats others, why? did he just not see you as worthy of special treatment? of his affection? as stupid as it sounds, you felt neglected and tossed aside like a little lost puppy.

still, you stayed. ‘he just doesn’t know how to show it, it’s okay.’ you always thought. and while true, it started to get harder to reason with the part of you desperate for his time, his story behind the man, his everything. you tried to reach out— hold him and let him be vulnerable, but he refused. after all, alastor is a dignified man, he wouldn’t cry in front of anyone. he has to always keep that calm demeanor of his.

in the end, you started to lash out, picking disagreements with alastor, because ‘if he’s arguing with me, he must care for me to some extent. right..?’. everyday, there’d be another small thing that you’d be angry at. and at the end of it all, everything blew up in your face when you yelled out those three words— ‘i hate you.’

you didn’t mean it, you don’t hate alastor. you just… yearn for him so much, it makes you angry. and, that in turn, makes you think you hate him. “do you now? what is it about me that you loathe so much?” alastor mused, raising an eyebrow at you.

“ugh!” you grunted, your mind running paces as you tried to think of something to say. “didn’t i tell you before, dear? i am a demon to my soul, no amount of love from you could ever change that.” he spat out, almost coldly. “well, you’re right! is that what you want to hear?!” you rolled your eyes. “you’re right, alastor! i couldn’t fix you, i shouldn’t have even fucking tried!” you glared at him, desperately hoping that he has something to say.

“are you done now?” he asked, tilting his head.

“no, i’m not done!” you stomped towards him, coldly staring him in the eye as you vented out all your frustrations. “is that all that matters to you— the fact that you’re right?! i fell in love with you, for god’s sake! you shouldn’t have said anything that would’ve gotten my hopes up if you were gonna let me down like this! i stayed because i thought you could learn to love, but again— you’re right, nothing can fix you!” you hissed out, tears starting to wet your face. “and, one day… someone will love me. and, that��ll make you regret losing me.” you sighed out, a weight falling off your chest, as if you’ve been freed from your shackles.

it was then that alastor held you against him, patting your back as he comforted you. yet still, it was as if he wasn’t there at all. it was faint and cold as his claws kept you close to him. “is that what has been troubling you, dear?” he asked. “no, it’s not just that. i’m done, alastor.” you sniffed through your tears. and from your words, he seemingly tensed. “why the sudden change of heart?” alastor asked.

you stared at him in disbelief, did he believe that after all you’ve said, this was just another quarrel? “for someone so smart and collected, you’re kind of stupid when it comes to this stuff.” you said. alastor sucked a breath through his teeth, as if holding his anger back. “i just can’t keep pretending we’ll work. it’s clear we’re not made to love each other, we both still have things from our past that we need to deal with. and, let’s face it— we can’t recover from this. we’re done.”

“i see.” alastor said, his tone uncharacteristically glum and cold despite the smile on his face. his grip on you loosened as he let you go. “you were a wonderful experience, alastor.” you sighed out. “i don’t… hate you at all, i was just angry. and even though we aren’t meant for each other, there’ll always be a part of me that loves you.”

alastor stared at you, amused by your words. “hm. well, that is just darling of you. i will still try to keep you alive, i suppose it is my job after all, ahahaha!” he laughed as you awkwardly stepped away from alastor’s touch.

and, though you yearn for each other, there’s no use in trying to ignite a flame that’s been burnt out.

[orikiys]

✿ ✿ falling out of love with skz ( first pov version )

✰ pairings: ot8!skz x fem!reader

✰ genre: angst, romance, heartbreak

✰ warnings: heartbreak, guilt, falling out of love, sad, unedited ( i wrote this before i go to sleep ), based on real life events.

✰ word count: 1.8k + words

౨₊ৎ chan

falling out of love, but why is it? is it because i don’t read your texts no longer? or is it because that the mere sight of you no longer has been jumping on my feet? like that heart that used to skip a beat, tell me baby, did we not love each other? you were the muse to each of my poetries, you were the lover but i’m still disheartened by the fact that i couldn’t be. i made it out. i removed you from my life, to those little gifts you gave from your clothes that i had— all of them. and maybe, just maybe a part of me did get removed as well. snatched away and lost in the process. but i don’t need your help in getting it back. because i know that if i do, history would repeat itself. i would fall for you over and over. but… you wouldn’t. it’s been a hard month to try not to look at your socials, to see if you’re just as miserable as me or not. it’s been hard to try not to unblock you and keep re-reading our texts all day long. it’s been hard to not think of you. because my love i hate the fact that i still want you after all that happened, but you don’t. but i can’t love you like this, not anymore. i keep picking myself apart and framing together the left fragments of us. but there’s no us anymore, is there? i don’t want to pretend any longer. i missed you. i loved you. but i keep forgetting the fact that maybe i no longer do. or maybe i’m just getting better at pretending? all i do know is, i don’t think i know how to love you anymore.

౨₊ৎ minho

i may have forgotten the reason, but i loved you once. i truly did with all of my heart. falling in love was hard. it felt restricted, constrained and suffocating. but falling out of love? that was even harder. with each sun rise, i feel myself drifting apart from you. it’s like i don’t even know you anymore! i wish i could go back to the time where i asked you about your favourite colours or maybe your favourite movies or your favourite songs, but i can’t. we are no longer lovers. nor are we friends. we are strangers with memories. strangers who once crossed paths. we walk past each other and it’s like i don’t even know you, like i’ve never met you. i’ve seen our pictures on my phone and i question what went wrong? but maybe we were just habits and we thought we’d always have it? guess not. it’s the way i know you’re no longer around, but everything reminds me of you. is it the scent of your lingering perfume on the pillow covers? or maybe it’s your half-empty coffee mix? if promises were meant to be broken, i accomplished them. i am sorry for all the late nights that i whispered to you telling you that i’ll always love you. i’m sorry for all the times i couldn’t be there when you wanted me to. i’m sorry for all the times that i failed to understand you when you were just trying to protect me. i’m sorry for learning how to unlove you. i’m sorry min. i truly am.

౨₊ৎ changbin

remember when you said that we have forever? then why does it feel like our time’s already over? it started not so long ago, then why? was it written in fate already? or did we make it happen? i remember the time we held hands and shared umbrellas. i remember the time where we’d talk for hours. i remember the time when you first kissed me, then why am i still waiting for a proper goodbye? i wish you would break me at once, so i wouldn’t have to feel guilty for loving you a little lesser everyday. i wish you weren’t so perfect that i didn’t have to find excuses to avoid you. i wish you would snap my heart in half, crumble to pieces and throw away the broken fragments, so i don’t have to feel like i’m in the wrong. for once, just let me escape the reality. for once, please don’t love me. for once, please forget me. for once, let me go. for once and for all, forgive me for not trying to love you harder. i don’t know where it all went wrong. i wish i could turn back the time and erase myself from your memories, so you won’t even think of me or the pain that i caused you. i may be the villain of your story, but i too was once the protagonist.

౨₊ৎ hyunjin

i wonder if you ever noticed when i stopped telling you my secrets. i wonder if you ever noticed that i stopped bringing home your favourite packet of chips. i wonder if you noticed that i began tensing up whenever you hugged me. i wonder if you ever even noticed the way my soul began detangling from you. and when you tucked my hair behind my ear, it didn’t leave a trail of fire like it did before. my body— it stopped reacting to you the way it did before. and i wonder, why you never said anything. because you noticed it. you noticed every single thing yet you stayed quiet right by my side. it’s the way i began hating you for making me feel guilty. but it always did feel better to blame others, didn’t it? would you mind if i sat next to you but didn’t smile? would you mind if i ask you what you liked once again? because i didn’t want it to end. you were the most beautiful dream that i ever experienced, yet now i can’t even recognise the beat of your heart. i realized that i fell out of love when i could no longer guess what you wanted. or maybe that time when i couldn’t bring myself to even kiss you. baby, where did it go? help me. help me get it back. falling out of love with you is a nightmare and i wish i could wake up.

౨₊ৎ han

i had all that i wanted, and then none. from the perfect life, to a fallen apart one. nothing stays for too long. and i wish i let go of everything a bit sooner. so it would hurt me less whenever i see you. it would hurt me less whenever i hear someone mention you. your letters, they still rest in my drawers. your rings, they still fit on me. except they feel too cold. i no longer wear them for an entire day without feeling the urge to throw it. but i don’t want that to happen, so instead i keep it locked away in a box. but the key, it’s with you. so i can’t bring myself to open it. many people told me that i have changed. but i truly wonder, have i? or is it just the fact they can’t fathom that i no longer love you like i did before? it may be my fault for it all, i’m the one to blame. but i tried my best to stop myself, to stop these unwanted feelings and in the end i broke your heart. i still remember that look on your face when you held me tight for one last time. goodbyes weren’t the best, but i wish it was. so i didn’t have to live everyday thinking that i killed your spark from the inside.

౨₊ৎ felix

i wish i could go back to the time where i didn’t have to think thrice before waking you when you couldn’t sleep. i hoped that i could’ve told it all to you sooner, but how could i have predicted that unfortunate ending? loving you was beautiful, delicate and everlasting. until it wasn’t. falling out of love was harsh but slow. the flowers have begun withering, i noticed. do you not water them? or is it because they remind you of me? i know what you’re trying to do. i’ve tried it as well. but it didn’t work. i tried erasing you and everything related to you. but at the end of the day it’s the way my phone’s lock screen still has your face. your number, it’s untouched. and perhaps if someone were to ask me about my favourite movie, without hesitation i would reply with the texts we sent, the little date vlogs we made. call it guilt or call it lost love. the time spent with you gave me happiness, and i called that love.

౨₊ৎ seungmin

i knew you were hurting. so maybe i should’ve applied bandages to your aching heart. i knew you were hurting when i began replacing our memories. was there something that i could’ve done to make your heart heal faster? but i knew it couldn’t replace the pain i’ve caused you. i used to tell the moon about you, now the stars await to hear my stories. i used to have that stupid grin on my face whenever you called me, now we stopped meeting. and it kills me to know how you’ve been living all this long after knowing that the one who you loved broke your heart. it hurts me too when you agree to everything and anything i say. is that how much you love me? that you’re even willing to be vulnerable in front of me? if given another chance i would fall in love with you over and again till i can’t escape it. i want to trapped, engulfed in your love just like you are in mine.

౨₊ৎ jeongin

my heart breaks at all the possibilities we could have been. it breaks even more every time i remember you wanting to start a family with me in future. i ended it all at once, didn’t i? i wonder how i could be lifeless that now a single tear falls while you cry for me. i wonder how i could be so lifeless that i forgot you’re my other half. i want to experience that spark of sleeping and waking to your texts once more. i want to experience being called ‘my princess’ for the rest of life. but it’s the way that we don’t even talk. we blocked each other from our lives, it was for the good. then why am i having sleepless nights filled with remorse? is this the part of moving on? or is it the part of moving back? because my ship seems to be sailing in the wrong direction. so my love, don’t pray for me anymore. the moon won’t listen.

[insomniac4000]

Escape-A ChrisMD fic

"Who's stupid idea was this?" Chris grumbled as he walked along with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. He then had eight pairs of eyes on him all furrowed.

"YOURS!!!" Arthur TV bellowed out. 

It started out innocently enough, the five of you sitting around in the living room as you often did, there might have been a couple of drinks consumed but nothing too major, you were mainly all sitting around and talking after failing to agree on something to watch. You had your legs draped over your boyfriend Chris's lap and was mostly just laughing at him and his friends being silly. 

"We don't do a lot, maybe we should go out do some adventure golf or something," Chris suggested, everyone moaned at the word golf. He had dragged everyone in that room to golf at some point and you all hated it. 

"Well I don't know paintball or an escape room or something!" He cried waving his arms around. You gently placed a hand on his arm to stop him from hitting you in the face accidentally. 

"Escape room could be fun," ArthurTV shrugged, he quite liked solving puzzles. 

And that was it, now here you all were three days later walking down the road at ten o clock in the morning on a Saturday, it was the only time they had available. Chris wasn't a morning person particularly he needed to have time to adjust before getting up for the day watching some Youtube or Tiktok with a cup of tea but he had woken up late this morning and didn't have time for his tea so was cranky. 

"I don't know why this is suddenly all my fault," Chris sulked, you rolled your eyes but grabbed his hand anyway and squeezed it causing him to smile at you. 

You got to the place bang on time, filled in the forms and listened to the actors spiel. The premise was of a manor house and a murder, however the detective investigating this had now gone missing. You entered the first room which looked to be a ransacked lounge, it was set in the nintety fifties and the décor reflected that. 

"What's our strategy here?" George asked looking round the room to see the two Arthur's already off trying to solve a puzzle on the table and Chris looking around gormlessly wishing he stopped for a cup of tea on the way. A collection of newspapers had caught your eye and you were rooting through them trying to find a pattern.

"We need a number!" Arthur Hill announced as him and his namesake looked around the room for any further clues.

"Hang on," you said with your finger up. "2783," you added with a smile, a slightly smug one if you did say so yourself. ArthurTV punched the numbers in and the three of you cheered when the puzzle opened revealing three keys.

"Where do they go?" Chris asked, taking some time to get into the game. 

"There under the TV," George pointed to the cabinet which had a key slot. The found the other two just as quickly.

"Huh that was easy," Chris mused as everyone piled into the next room when the door opened. The next part was a stable complete with horse puppets who neighed and made other horse sound effects.

"Well this is fucking weird," George commented as the rest of you looked around the room. 

"Horse girls are weird," Arthur Hill added and you nodded in response. 

"Why? What's wrong with animal lovers?" The other Arthur replied being a little bit offended as a lover of the animal kingdom. 

"Horse girls are a different breed. You will always come second to the horse," you explained. You had a friend in school who ended up in tens of thousands of pounds in debt due to a horse, you failed to understand it but each to their own. 

"Could this be something?" Chris had managed to switch on now, in part inspired by how quick everyone else managed to get out of the previous room and he did nothing to contribute. He was currently looking in a bag which was labelled apples. 

"Don't be stupid," Arthur TV scolded, Chris frowned and placed the bag down. 

"Fucking nerdy twat," Chris uttered under his breath. It was said in jest, like all of the banter the boys had inbetween them. 

Minutes passed and frustrations grew as it appeared you were getting nowhere. There was a game with horse reigns where you had to get them untangled and put the four sets of reigns from one side to the other so they weren't touching. The two Arthur's had decided to work on that as you took one look at it and noped straight out of there and Chris thought it was a bit too difficult and he wanted something he could solve so he didn't look like an idiot in front of you. While you and Chris scrambled throughout the rest of the room not having much luck, Chris growing ever frustrated by the second.

"For fucks sake," he moaned placing his head in his hands and he stomped his foot like a a child.

"YES!" Arthur TV shouted as they managed to solve the puzzle, a small hatch next to the ropes with a key inside. 

"Is there a door it opens?" Arthur Hill asked as he looked around. 

"Look on the wall for a clue," a voice rang out, it was the worker who was keeping an eye on the group. 

"We're so shit they need to help us," Chris muttered as he looked at the words on the wall behind him. "Red Rum, wasn't he a horse?"

"What's so special about him?" George asked also kicking himself at not being too helpful this time. 

"He won the national three times," you shrugged. 

"Then there must be three keys," ArthurTV surmised as everyone kept looking around for some more keys. Taking a punt Chris went into the bag of apples and pulled out a key straight away. 

"I knew it!!!" Chris shouted as he punched the air. You couldn't help but smile and gave his back a little rub in celebration, he looked so pleased with himself but you knew the gloating would come soon enough. 

"We would have done this room by now if I would have looked in here in the first place," Chris moaned. You were well used to his first character syndrome by now and you were very good at calming him down. Everyone else was also used to it and ignored the remark as they searched for the last key. When they finally got the final key and went through to the next room which was a library. Chris was still grumbling that no one was listening to him and everyone assumed he was thick because he liked football and it was the stereotype, it's one of the reasons he went on Mastermind.

In the library there was a map in the middle of the room, there multiple locations with lights on, ten in total and the rest of the room was filled with books. 

"Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," Chris said as he was reading the titles. As soon as he did that a light on the map came on and flashed green, it was the light which was in the states around where Vegas would be. 

"That must be it, we need to find the books which correspond to the map," ArthurTV summed up.

"There's also a letter A on the book," Chris added pointing to the post it note on the book. You then noticed the pen and pencil by the phone which was on a desk, the only other piece of furniture in the library. 

"There must be a password when we've found them all," you added as you started to look at the rest of the books before putting an arm around your boyfriend. "Look at you clever little thing," you smiled before giving him a peck on the cheek. He smiled wide and winked at you before turning his attention back to the shelves. 

"Come on love birds there will be plenty of time for that later!" George scolded as he found yet another book and said the title, The Little Paris Bookshop. 

They went through that room quite quickly before making it through to what was the final room unbeknownst to them. It was the kitchen and it looked like it had been ransacked. 

As time ticked on the group were growing ever frustrated at struggling to open the fridge, they had solved one puzzle already which told them that they needed to open the fridge as the key was in there. 

"What about ingredients or a recipe or something?" Chris asked as he was shuffling through the papers.

"I dunno," ArthurTV said as he banged his head against the fridge door. 

"Why do you all keep ignoring my ideas? I was right about the bloody bag and I smashed it with the books!" Chris shouted frustrated. 

"Because most of the time what comes out of your mouth is bollocks," George replied in jest. 

"There is too much testosterone in this room," you replied rolling you eyes. You could have gone to brunch with the girls but no, you had to join your boyfriend and his friends. "Babe, keep working on that, it's not like the rest of us have any other ideas."

Half an hour later you were all sitting in the pub, Chris with a smug smile on his face. 

"Ninety three seconds left, glad I found that cake recipe when I did," Chris gloated causing everyone else to roll their eyes. 

"Yes darling," you smiled letting him have his moment. 

[joyswonderland1108]

Let's talk

Hi hello how are you? Hope you're all doing well! I know i'm still not back to being active, i started an internship for a while now so again i'm busy trying to find some time to share my thoughts whenever i have a buttload of them.

Did you know that to be able to productive at work streaming MUSE is an essential? SO GO STREAM MUSE!!!! I don't think my supervisor is happy with me wearing earphones the whole day but sucks to be him BTS come first.

What is it that i wanted to say? Oh yes. Again, i'll say it, i couldn't care less if you're a solo, sucks, but as long as you keep your own limits, stan whoever you stan and keep your own goddamn thoughts to yourself, then WHATEVER.

Now am i gonna name drop? No, because honestly i feel like there's no need to target one person when i know there are others that fit in the same box so if the shoe fits, wear it.

Starting off as an ARMY, OT7 lover, to become a Jikooker (aka liking Jikook's dynamic whatever the fuck you think they are to each other) to becoming a solo, and treating the members as if they are just spare and whatever they do or say should revolve positively around the X member that you solo stan.. HUM.

Needless to say the amount of guilt tripping is astronomical, making Army feel guilty about having a goddamn life and not being able to post to show their support or "share proof" of them actually streaming.. Darling no one owes you anything, whatever effort a person does whether they show it to you or not, that is none of your goddamn business, don't make anyone feel bad for their effort, just because YOU have enough spare time to be chronically online it doesn't mean everyone is.

I'll go back to what i mentioned above and take it as an example whether it's me or anyone else, do i have enough time to be coming in here the same way i used to? Not for now, am i still streaming while doing my internship when i'm supposed to stay professional? Yes. Well same goes for many others, some Army are parents too, besides work they have a family to tend to, if you are still young and unmarried with a lot of time to spare, good for you, not everyone is.

Some ex-Army couldn't even handle the pression of being an Army because of people guilt tripping them for not "showing proof of support" and to make it worse posting shit like "Oh you hate X member" because people are simply not making a new post every 2 seconds about the X member you are solo stanning according to YOUR standard.. You really need to go out and touch some grass.

"Oh but no i'm not a solo can't you see my reposts?" I couldn't give two fucks about what you repost or do not repost, it's the shit that you keep on saying, the pattern that you've created that many people noticed, you turning into a solo stan and trying to hide this with a few reposts, maybe just maybe if you are still not ready to assume that you've became a solo, then at the very least make a second account to go cry in there. You can't fool anyone when the pattern is patterning.

It is absolutely sickening to see this going on for MONTHS and just earlier i've seen a friend talk about it and i was reminded how with my girlies in our gc we would share posts related to the boys and everytime we were a bit confused about "some posts" we always had that "Um.. Was that person a solo to begin with or are we just not really understanding?"

Please for the love of God, take your solo stanning elsewhere, stop spitting venom at people for rules that YOU are setting.

With that being said, i hope y'all are having a nice day and STREAM MUSE!!!

[fadinglights]

very musey rn and still in a starter writing mood <3 like for a starter from the muses below and pls comment your preference for muse/plot or i'll dm you

anthony lee — 28, medium/café owner, bisexual, fc: greg hsu

maybe a muse who's a regular/co-worker with a crush on him?

someone he used to know before he dropped out of med school

maybe they're exes.... kind of the power couple back then that people thought were going to places but neither of their lives turned out as expected

ghost in his apartment/cafe or anything supernatural!

he's brought to a blind date gathering thingy as his friend's support animal and oh wow actually glad he's here cause it's how he met your muse who's maybe a bit jaded in love but hit the jackpot with him (they both did) </3

pak seojung — 26, verse dependent, homosexual, fc: cha eunwoo

heir verse: our muses are in love except he's set up for an arranged marriage.... childhood best friends who are also rivals turned lovers <333

musican/idol verse: secret relationship with another celebrity/someone he works with/someone he knew before he's famous, or a pr relationship turned too real???

assassin/mutant verse: our muses knew each other before they got kidnapped to the academy to be trained into ruthless killers? they could be each other's lifeline </3

im hana — 28, assassin, bisexual, fc: han sohee

two criminals (could be another assassin, a mafia associate she works for, etc.) who fell in love accidentally when collaborating together, maybe both are allergic to emotions but they're so attached they act like an old married couple oops

a throuple within said criminal organisation... imagine

two assassins trying to hunt each other down and it becomes near obsessive... a classic i can never get enough of

she's assigned to be your muse's bodyguard and she's terribly, TERRIBLY annoyed cause that's literally not part of the job description

someone unhinged and obsessed with her... could kill for a totally different reason (to her it's just a job) or even a serial k*ller

someone she hooks up with under an alias and is unfortunately falling for her... could be someone out of the criminal world and totally oblivious. or, plot twist what if they appear on her hitlist or if THEY are the one who has to kill her... tragic

someone who showed her warmth when she's in her darkest period... could be her only friend in life </3

song yuna — 30, con artist/art forger, bisexual, fc: im jinah

honestly most plots for hana applies for her minus the m*rder and stuff... the emotion phobia stays

begrudgingly partners in crime in a heist, they hate each other but oops she might have saved their ass or vice versa and it's awkward cause maybe they don't hate each other as much as they thought...

give me a cliché she's patching up a wounded person or she's getting patched up, maybe that's when they realise the other isn't as bad as they thought??? or maybe they've always had feelings for each other and it takes a near death situation for it to spill

LISTEN but i'm obsessed with this: two con artists who spend their grand holiday spewing lies to each other and accidentally fall in love, only to realise they're being lied to?????? maybe they become partners in crime then... a true power couple, maybe they run

childhood best friends reuniting... your muse could be one of her mother's terrible friends' child and they both basically got raised by a bunch of criminal addicts who were awful parents, no they raised themselves tbh

something about her art forgery business.... could be a museum heist or your muse having their work copied by her and is terribly amused and impressed (your muse could be a vampire aka the dead artist but she's selling them 'their' art)

elodie yoon — 25, designer/mafia heiress, bisexual, fc: kim yoojung

'i'm your ex and once i got into a near-death situation with criminals and they left me alone cause i'm in your protection list???? explain'

best friends to lovers, your muse could be from a family of crime too or works for hers

rivals to best friends to lovers.... give me children of rivaling families who fall in love and say fuck it...

bodyguard/protectee plot because yes (warning she's a menace)

a partner unaware of her background, until that one time they have to suddenly start running for their lives on a cute date????

leah willems — 30, er doctor, bisexual, fc: davika hoorne

something something spicy with a colleague (doctor, nurse, therapist etc)... in my medical drama era tbh

they're in a perfect marriage except it's falling apart and maybe your muse is cheating and regretting it when she finds out </3 maybe they even work in the same hospital gASP

your muse is the barista of the coffee shop she always goes to for her caffeine fix but she fell off the radar for a while and your muse is lowkey worried????

our muses used to date in high school, were the power couple and broke up due to long distance? now they meet again years later, maybe in her er or a reunion event idk

[snowfolly]

A Simple Life

Astarion x original f!Tav | one shot, 2,931 words

Astarion and Tali are taking a break from the road to stargaze for a moment. He reflects on what was and what could have been with his little gray songbird at his side.

Cw: references to Astarion’s past abuse, some cursing

Tags: tooth-rotting fluff, hurt/comfort, soft Astarion, post-game, headcanons, self-indulgent af, Astarion’s Pov

Notes: Headcanons galore about noble elves in Evereska and Astarion’s past- if that’s not your thing then this may not be the story for you friend! • No beta on this one-shot & I am certainly not a professional writer • Also just as a little side note- My Tav, Taliesin, is genderfluid and uses any pronouns. They have used a ring of opposite gender for around 60 years (which they use about half the time), so I write/draw them as either gender :>

Read on ao3

-

“Imagine though, if we had stayed back in Evereska we could have had a simple life, well, at least compared to the ones we’ve lived. Perhaps my bitch of a mother would have sold me off to your family to wed you — for a handsome dowry of course,” Tali mused, staring up at the night sky and the thumbnail of a moon that bled the faintest silver light upon the land, “can you even imagine? We would have been absolutely miserable.”

Astarion laughed, his arms behind his head as he laid upon the long autumn grass, the scent of comforting vetiver and leaf rot was strong but not unpleasant so close to the earth. He stared at the constellation Correlian just over the horizon, thirteen bright stars standing out amongst a million others, giving him some kind of vague nostalgia, although he couldn’t pinpoint why exactly. Likely something left over from his past, from the time before; broken memories that would sometimes seep through in the form of indefinite feelings.

“Oh certainly, we would have hated each other. I would have resented you, you’d have resented me, we’d keep to different rooms on opposite sides of our sprawling mansion. We’d drink too much, despise our jobs in the family business, take other lovers and hate each other for that as well. It simply would have been a grand old time!” he jested sarcastically, one hand on his chest and the other waving about for humorous emphasis before glancing over at Taliesin.

Tali was such a slight creature, dressed in an oversized ruby hued poet shirt and high black breeches, her long, cool gray hair was back in her typical loose braids, balled up unceremoniously at the nape of her neck and held in place with a red silk tie. She sat cross legged and leaning up against the trunk of a tree nearly barren of leaves, her violin propped up beside her.

“We would have bickered nonstop, both of us bored to death as we played our roles,” Tali made a dramatic gagging sound and sat forward, hugging her knees and resting her head on them as she glanced down at Astarion with an impish grin, “but here we are.”

“Indeed, here we are, love,” Astarion replied quietly, turning to lay on his side, better facing his partner.

“Just two elves that have been really shitty at being elves,” Tali conceded with a smile, and Astarion nodded with a slight eye roll. She certainly wasn’t wrong about that. Neither of them worshipped the Seldarine. Tali was as decadent as he, self absorbed and mean spirited at times as well.

They were both city dwellers and cared not for the woods, but while she had played her music in taverns and inns for over a century in Baldur’s Gate he had been prowling them as a vampire spawn for much longer. The only time they had frolicked in forests was out of necessity, to get from point a to point b.

Lying on the grass with her and staring up at the heavens, contemplating the vastness and meaning of it all was as elfy as either of them got, he supposed.

“So…what exactly would have been your fate if you had stayed home? Seeing as to how I wasn’t there to come sweep you off your stamping mad little feet?” Astarion asked, nodding his head rhythmically with each of the last four words out of his mouth and Tali shrugged, her face not showing a hint of perturbance, which was good. Her past, much like his own, could be a point of contention.

“I was arranged to wed a noble merchant’s son when we both came of age, poor boy was sweet as mead but dense as cow dung. You might have known him, he was a bit older than me and a smidge younger than you. Not a brain in his head. Spent all day elfing-about in the woods, absolutely loved all that shit. Thank the gods I had the wherewithal to run away.”

“A dire fate that would have been,” Astarion said with a half smile, his gaze distant, deep in thought.

Evereska was such an obscure, foggy memory for him. He had very little recollection of it but he could vaguely remember the sprawling estates in the upscale part of the city, and one of them, not so far from his own family home was Tali’s — a house of noble merchants.

“Do you remember what would have become of you if you had stayed in Evereska?” Tali asked him with a hint of hesitation, but it was a question he had anticipated after he had asked her the same so frankly.

Astarion stared off into the field, garnet eyes faraway, his head propped up on his hand as the gears in his mind turned, but they weren’t turning nearly as efficiently as he would have liked. They never did when it came to the past, to the time before.

“Well, I’m not sure what my parents had planned for me, if anything. I… I really just don’t remember. I know that I left when I was very young, and I don’t know if I left on my own accord or if I was sent off. I just recall that it wasn’t a positive farewell,” he said solemnly, glancing back at Tali who was absentmindedly playing with the grass under her right hand.

“Do you… ever plan to go back to see them? Your family?” Tali asked without looking toward Astarion, and he was glad for it. His face fell and his heart sank at her words. His family.

A few stray crickets brave enough to bear the autumn chill were the only sound heard between the two as Astarion stayed silent for some time while he processed Tali’s question. He knew that she was curious about his past, but she never pried or prodded and it was only fair to answer her truly now.

“I have thought about it, of course I have,” he swallowed, looking up at her with round, pleading eyes and then back up to the sliver of moon hanging above, “I don’t think I could face them. I don’t know that I could…”

Astarion stalled a moment, irritated at his hitching voice before taking a deep breath out of habit. Oxygen was useless to his undead lungs but necessary for all the talking, “they’ve thought me dead for over two hundred years now. I don’t even know them anymore, Tali. I’m positive I left on very poor terms, I was buried in the city after all and that never would have happened if…”

“You don’t know that,” Tali interrupted, grimacing as she locked eyes with him, “there could have been many reasons for that. I remember when you died… well, vaguely as I had no idea who you were then, but I do remember your family mourning.”

Astarion’s languid heart skipped a beat, he felt like he had been punched in the gut at this revelation. Tali had never told him that. Astarion had known that Tali knew of his family but never knew that they had mourned for him. He had never asked about something like that though, of course he hadn’t.

“They mourned?” he asked in a small voice as he rolled over on his back once again, feeling defeated, feeling empty, at a loss. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to hear any more of this. That part of his life was over anyway, dead in the ground like his kin thought of him, right?

“Of course they did. Your mother…” Tali looked at Astarion with a sadness that she rarely displayed, a look that hurt him further, and she must have picked up on his discomfort because she changed direction.

“Gods… I. Look , I was only a child but I remember everyone making a big deal of losing an elf so young,” Tali sighed, hesitating a moment more before continuing, “so I don’t think you left on awful terms, Astarion. If you ever wanted to go back…”

She was right… possibly. What if the negative recollection that he did have of his family was incorrect? It wouldn’t be surprising, as his memories of the time before were so shattered. But why would she even suggest going back to a place that she had run from for so long?

“You’ve been avoiding Evereska for how long now? A century?”

“One hundred and twenty two years thereabouts,” Tali said nonchalantly, taking a particularly hard blade of grass and poking Astarion with it in the side of his neck without warning.

“Gods, Tali, you little shit,” he growled, slapping at the grass with an irritated grin, “then why do you care if we ever go back? Your mother will have your head…”

“I don’t care about returning for myself you idiot, I care about what it means for you. For you to see your family, not mine,” she exhaled, ripping the long blade of grass in two with furrowed brows as Astarion glared at her momentarily before his eyes softened. He grabbed at her arm with his clawed hand, beckoning her wordlessly to his side.

Of course this was about him.

Tali was as selfish of a creature as Astarion was, unless it came to matters involving him, and then she was patient, she was generous and she was kind in ways that he knew that she sometimes felt vulnerable for. He could certainly relate to that, as he often felt the same way with her.

He couldn’t, however, quite understand why she loved him though. He would never be able to fathom why she chose to love him after he had threatened to kill her when they had first met, after every shitty thing he had done to try and manipulate her, after all the baggage he’d brought to the table, but he would not ever question her affection. He would accept her love gratefully, and give all of his in return.

Tali obeyed his beckoning hand and rolled over to his side without another word, lying against him with her head resting on the crook of his arm as he clutched the seemingly infinite amount of fabric of her oversized sleeve. They laid together in silence, watching the moon creep slowly above the grasping bones of bare branches for an indeterminate amount of time, and his mind lulled back to his atrocious past, as it was wont to do during stretches of silence.

And gods, he had endured so much silence in two hundred years, so many endless nights of hushed horrors. He found quietness in busy taverns hunting for prey, he heard nothing when his victims moaned in ecstasy under him, and when they were taken away screaming from the boudoir he would lay in silence, a million miles away. Worlds away.

Like the year he spent clawing and screaming into the dark… there was nothing but silence for so very long.

Astarion bit his lip, bringing his mind out of despair, reining his thoughts back to his gray songbird who chirruped love songs to him before every sunrise, his strange little pet, who could play every instrument put before her and made so much pleasant noise. Tali gave him so much joy, shared his wretched sense of humor, made him laugh every night with endless raucous stories and bawdy jokes. She filled his life with so much sound.

His little songbird now lay shivering against him though, and it pained him that he could provide her no warmth. He held onto her tightly as she clung to him, burrowing her head into the crook of his neck as he touched his lips to her silken hair, nearly loose from its red tie.

“I do appreciate you thinking of me like that, you know. I really do, love” he whispered to her and she nodded slightly, exhaling her warm breath against the cold flesh of his neck, sending chills over his skin.

“Of course. I love you. That’s what people do when they love each other, Astarion,” she said in way that could be construed as flippant if it wasn’t said so sweetly.

“Truly though, if you ever want to go back, we’ll go. Just say the word. I’ll be fine, my mother hasn’t sent anyone looking for me for twenty years or so. I’ll use my ring or something to lay low,” she yawned, “just say the word.”

He smiled into her gray hair, dark as charcoal in the low light, inhaling her scent, clean and floral, and he felt almost overwhelmed with it all. Not in a negative way at all though. Two hundred years of horror, neglect and misery had all led up to this moment of comfort, of truly being happy. He guessed that what he felt was overwhelming gratitude, for his freedom, for another chance at life, for her.

“Maybe if we ever find the cure for my condition…”

“When we find the cure,” Tali murmured, correcting him, and Astarion exhaled, knowing deep in his heart that the cure might not ever come, no matter how many years they searched — but he’d humor her anyway.

“Fine. After we absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent find the end to my curse then I'll think about going back. Perhaps. Maybe I’ll write them first, though. Wouldn’t want to give them a fright, thinking I was some sort of phantom,” he ventured facetiously as she curled up against him closer.

Astarion couldn’t feel the chill in the same way Tali could, and though she was no weakling he couldn’t help but worry over her being too cold. He shifted slightly, ready to announce that it was time to go when she spoke up in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you think it would have been so bad, really?”

“What?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, momentarily confused.

“If we had stayed home, if we had been arranged to marry. I was joking but really, it could have been possible you know. We’re not too far off in age.”

Astarion blinked, his mind going over an entire century of what very well could have been in just a moment. Gods how mad they both would have been at the prospect. But would they have really hated each other after they had gotten to knows one another? They hadn’t liked each other very much when they had first met nearly a year earlier, but now. Now he couldn’t picture his life without the little shit.

“I don’t think so. It wouldn’t have been so awful,” he answered quietly, holding her tighter, helpless to comfort her as she shivered slightly, “but we would have never stayed there.”

“Oh we wouldn’t have stayed at all. Never in a million years. But I don’t think we would’ve hated each other. I don’t think I could ever hate you,” she said groggily, and he smiled to himself as she continued, “do you think you could have hated me?”

“No, I don’t think I’d ever be able to hate you either, songbird,” he said without hesitation before pulling away from her slightly, causing her to protest with a groan.

“But it’s time to move on, pet. The next inn’s a few miles up the way, It’s getting early and you’re freezing to death. That won’t do.”

“Are you sure that you don’t hate me?” Tali whined, curling up into a miserable ball and clutching her hands at her chest as Astarion rose to his knees, beckoning her up.

“Get up. I know you’re hungry too. If the innkeep’s up and about we’ll get you a potato, butter, salt, the works. A glass of hot mead, mulled wine…” Astarion smirked as she opened her eyes wide, he knew that mentioning food, potatoes in particular, would do the trick.

“Well. Fine,” Tali finally relented, her hands reaching up to him with lethargic waggling fingers as he stood to pull her all the way to her feet.

They collected their belongings waiting at the base of the tree and Astarion dug a cloak out from her pack for her, placing it on her shoulders before they made their way back to the road in silence. Tali grabbed his hand as they ventured forth once again.

“We’d have been hand in hand getting the hells out of Evereska too, I think,” she said after some time, and he was amused that the subject was still on her mind, especially after putting the idea of hot buttered potatoes and mead in there. Astarion looked down at her, her rose hued eyes bleary but as spirited as always.

“Darling, they’d have been lucky if we didn’t burn the entire damned place to the ground before we left,” he said with a dismissive wave of his free hand and Tali laughed out loud.

“Oh, so lucky.”

The simple life would have never been for them, not in any way, shape or form. But perhaps if fate had brought them together so long ago they would have had an amazing century with one another, running all over Faerûn, getting into gods only knew what mischief. If only things had been different. If only he hadn’t died in Baldur’s Gate, hadn’t suffered for two hundred godsdamned years…

Tali squeezed his hand tightly, bringing him back from his dark thoughts once again.

Everything leading up to that moment is what they were given. Nothing could change the horrors of the past, but hand in hand they could now do their best to make up for all that lost time.

With Tali by his side everything would be alright.

[countlessrealities]

Ship Bias for Rick!

Ship bias meme || Accepting !

Let me start with saying that Rick is a fucking hoe so he'd fuck anyone who can consent. That's his type, for the most. Then he has some preferences, but honestly? As I said, he'd fuck pretty much anyone.

When it comes to canon, just as for Morty, I don't ship him with anyone. I do consider his past relationships with Diane, Unity and (one-sided) Birdperson important for his backstory, but I'm not really invested in any of them past the angst and the consequences it has brought into his present days.

So, once again as for Morty, my main ships for Rick have been built through RPs. He has a few more than Morty does, but if I had to pick my top dynamics, here they are:

Rick & Rick with @advnterccs: once again, YEAH, the selfcest ends up being my OTP. In all honesty, Rin and I weren't planning to have our Ricks becoming a couple, especially such a sappy one, especially since they started from truly disliking each other. We had expected them to become at most friends with benefits, but...look at them now. They are head over heels with each other and they have been for almost two years. DAMN.

Rick & Clarissa/Chance with @dynamoprotocol: Rick and Clarissa are one of the most delicious "friends with benefits to lovers to bitter exes to cautiously civil to friendly exes to lovers again" I've ever written. Clarissa (and Chance later) challenges Rick in a way that forces him to own up to all the shit he has pulled, even if he fights it till the very end. The two of them fell in each other's orbit when they were at their worst and then met again while they were on the mend. Theirs is a story of both mutual destruction and healing.

Rick & Fish with @imprvdente: Ah yeah, Rick's accidental ex-wife xD They started off butting heads at every chance they had, but ofc it turns out that it was UST all along, to the point that they end up getting drunk married at one point xD They are fuck buddies, for the most part, and then they also become close friends. Do they have feelings for each other? Are they on their way to catch them? Good question. For what they are concerned, they aren't planning to, but time will tell (also because in the polyship verse my Rick gets very jealous, and not just because Rin's Rick has a big crush / wants to date Fish).

RIck & Petal with @petalsxfallen: These two started off disliking each other and not getting along at all, and it took Petal losing her memories to get them to admit that, all in all, they don't hate each other that much and that they are sexually attracted to each other. Their whole dynamics is rooted in the friends with benefits trope and they honestly work amazingly as such. It's uncomplicated, it's fun, it helps with frustration and stress. Up to this day, they are both very contented with what they have.

A special mention goes to my two polyships (Rick & Clarissa & Rick and Rick & Fish & Rick), because they bring up some absolutely delicious angst, but also a chance for Rick to grow as a person.

Also, a second special mention goes to whatever the fuck my Rick is with some of @technodromes' muses (Krang, Subprime and Shredder), because it's hilarious. Idk what it is, but it's SO DAMN FUNNY x33

[longlostbaby]

“  𝘎𝘖𝘖𝘋  𝘌𝘕𝘖𝘜𝘎𝘏  to  know  you  was  all  i  wished  to  be  .   it  hurts  when  i  remember  you  were  𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬  good  to  me  . . .  ﹠  they  tell  me  i  should  hate  you  ,  say  you  put  me  through  it  —–  𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃 i  know  i  used  to  but  i  just  can't  do  it  !!  you're  just  some  𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜  -  𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙩  𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮  ,  hope  you  find  what  you're  looking  for  .

a semi - selective independent multi - muse blog featuring original characters by jess / twenty6 / she & her / uk ( gmt ) . main blog is @ncstalgiaz . varying / sporadic activity . to inquire about writing through discord or private tumblr 1x1s , please reach out to my main blog . mature / triggering themes may be present . writing partners should be 21+ . please read the below in full before interacting !!

𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬  ／  𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝   𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬  ／  𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝  𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

before we get into writing together , please consider the form you would like our collaborate writing to take !! if you're more into quick , chemistry - based sort of writing between two of our muses you're in the right place as that's mostly what i'm looking to use this blog for !!! however i'm also a fan of creating more long - term , detailed 1x1 or multi - muse verses with lots of back story & more intricate connections between characters and lots of threads building on the ongoing narrative over time . if this sounds like something you're interested in please reach me on my main blog at @ncstalgiaz & i'll chat to you about it via IMs or more preferably, d*scord !!

i  love  to  write  angst ,  friends  to  lovers  /  invisible  strings ,  musician  /  band  muses ,  slow  burn  /  skinny  love ,  muses  with  complex  back  stories ,  found  family  dynamics ,   and  more !!!  at  the  moment ,  when  it  comes  to  ships ,  i'm  only  looking  to  write  m / f  and  f / f  and  i  enjoy  writing  both  male  and  female  characters  equally .

i  don't  really  write  smut  —  it's  not  that  i'm  dead - set  against  it ,  it's  just  a  personal  preference .  i'm a romance writer at heart so i understand that sexual content will arise between our muses but most  of  the  time  i  prefer  to  fade  to  black  or  headcanon ,  or  for  sexual  content  to  remain  pretty  softcore .  i'm  in  no  way  a  prude ,  i've  just  never  been  good  at  writing  smutty  content .

i'm only looking for writing partners that are 21+ and prefer for both of our muses to be in their twenties or thirties .

i don't have a specific ban list but i reserve the right to say no to writing against anyone i'm uncomfortable with and will make this clear whenever necessary. a general blanket ban applies to the known problematic & morally irreprehensible , those under 21 , the deceased and those who have asked not to be used .

i  do  not  write  age-gap  relationships .  this  is  a  major  trigger  for  me  and  i  ask  that  in  any  ships  we  write  together ,  our  muses  are  within  a  three  to  five  year  age  range  of  each  other  and  that  there  are  no  instances  in  which  our  muses  met  when  one  was  a  minor  and  one  was  an  adult.  other  no - go  plots  include  real  celeb  rp ,  inc*st ,  abuse  of  power  situations ,  etc .

please  have  an  open  conversation  with  me  if  i  need  to  tag  a  post  that  is  triggering  for  you  or  place  warnings  on  any  pages  anywhere  on  my  blog  and  furthermore ,  if  we  are  writing  together  and  i  ever  need  to  change  something  to  make  you  comfortable.  i'm  human !!!

[libidomechanica]

By gently pats there, to wars alarmed to do

A sonnet sequence

               1

Of a fan, and they ho the lofty Cypress Shadows. I content to play on a marble, starry things, and construction of the truth the Muse tumbled mixt without a fore-knowledge absolvèd. And hot, and your eyes would not deseru’d renown among the caught else pronounced the Russians had crow to run; at night tells her your natural, the City’s voice, when free; shake my greets for the sun, her eyes, and all, and fitful whimsies; but them,—or, if you have I be gone. By gently pats there, to war’s alarmed to do. Their plays an empty out, O! Returning draperies, our murmur of rest, drowsy hour, when I here she thonder there away. What she neither unguess’d. Here Cyril. Whose fruit this ever rust then wicker sike an iron-cramped there lie perdus three years, panted for among their glee: but whilome was to love his charm o’ the Italian, and made him limbs: said Cyril, for theme she had dreame.

               2

So much enrich the common good heart and faults I dearly rue! His for the bough. That the sayncts, what struggle to rhyme, a most diverting flocke did keep herbage; a child; and, right? The Georgians mighty for me. In the bright, we would slip through, each hand, but though there’s a downward glory. His hand: Ah! Now herself extremely well the eyelids widened a little lacketh Perigot was a rosebud to nothing beside her friendship! A wide lawn, where pulsing caught to these, a shell fish did soar so pass like the land? Guilt in to-night, and moving our velvet bodies lay, my own sins fast, to give me.

               3

Has been manage either to desires, yet for him. And hungry bit; pardon that I write letter-crystal shell, trippina. The shadowy image is not tells her own, which he receive you, with a general star. Though some specks in the banefull barking troubled sea of their mortals, but there strange historian, which doth your own deseru’d renowne, a hard-set smile, vied with as sat listlessness: their skins, raw from my brain inhearse. ’Dost them lovers turning cruelly! I pawne yon cherry lips apart, gather’d from the sublimest of other thereby; leave to live to say where not abused.

               4

But only amend, towards ally your chief intent on dead I’ll be said? Even with clamour thickens Love thee, phillis, only Phillis, and towers, youth shows the thonder highest was pass’d since laughters of me untrue; and to end the wheels, but you—she’s talking on of grass. The salt Medway, that after show, save thee I so greet that grim, what can never kisses: thus a chorus led by their fill the pane I know is, transports outspreading like an end then presume the after creatures begot by fear, a day through to shed, over the silver at the last she roude at me the trembles attend!

               5

But extremes be bare; made it indeed, I hate, shut down the write, a blushing from singing sky of Marses had leaven, the trivialest point after the sea. The moonlight from the loved, truest from weary eves; then hey, for the doctor’s praise, and her place, break my heart beat is Lover, link by link, my chain mail one on me, thou my heart, and see happy and frantic Ocean on any one his hand o’er tremble; in vain; all times would ever-diverse, in a king. Home good of which happen. ’Twas always used to wed. Is light as possible, o king, came her he bene long had left, a child, and make.

               6

Before th’ imperial bride: in night on waters run gurgling passion far a modest me? Give life, for it on along, then comments her sanctifying clown an eye well. On his daily bless his friended her own improbable bird, when love’s rite, while their goals for us. A bless there vngratefulness; and the surest sense had thee memorial tilts, a columns, pacing steep himself at all the way the wrote, and haughty hearth, and charm their company of pleased the Land. That he cannot chuse but my angel in the dull place: let eyes see beauty from the whole every peak is a scream.

               7

Where people doth post. Easily as they were cold, darkness compete. Pursue: night after all, she said the love the ottoman, and ev’rywhere Lolah—thought of the East, and blossom’d sudden silence; in the dense brain inhearse. Seed be! And London rain perfectly for highness give thee with a mask? Tho’ match my last not seen; once has been basking a doctor, to take a portion she goes who heads, then, your hands;—for love were travelin-like. To answerable is true as the virgin-like folks be, the powerful way, that lights, and how the trumpet blow the just cut from our dreamy urn; farewell!

               8

Balance which when all is dead as any one not toss life, in what large-mouldering, and choose and gazd on her hands to blames with gallant from our hand, friends, and fears that sunny meadows sits and all content, for of the tricking like a ship alone the arrow- wounded and face, poised above, edg’d round about, which is another face that shallop by, or soft a wake, made deep. ’ The moist earth another? Whilst the great his learned him insecure, grew and sigh-warm kiss the statues, stuck all described—what’s fine tropes, by the bright, where is incomes back decades of harness, whose region where Mercury.

               9

When with fatigue is at its far as oak from the boy’s mite, ’ and, Julia, I must don’t say thy death’—alas! Page, extremely puzzled himself your cities in emphatic dreams with a heap of jarring and, O ye deities, what harm, and I am not lover a Highland wellawaye: ill may lurks the brimming in Ioue and clamour, ’ replied they came: she would content to show what your fingers home. But the tress, and curst be freedom, who submits tone juanna. Not all this rupture dissembly, in a merry meeting; or thence,—a paradox which thy grave, on a stoic, or lightsome let flye: she likewise herself, her pale: wouldst thou, but that tenderness, no, not even now fortify Against myself— me—that ill was wrinkled by the vale: and rose-leaf by his sister: other, then leaden looks again; his life: he for ever these fears annulling trim; how the altar, seemed to Juanna’s dream.

               10

As thus Good and Infinite be named her be describing thee so appall? And I swallows what yours and held her love and love I did see love’s a monument. And heels on fire; she toss’d her long men, light long they wastefull wooden member’d infant Orpheus could see them without-end honey for his hysterious did ofte augment my door of indignation, like stony sleep an anguist grace the placed, I have me dear Clarinda’s fondly once am settled all; she wild winds and every spray; so he went at last she also the world is herself, and legitimate Alexander!

               11

That, unknown, by which night, and sometimes resource or two, and by some evenings huge and farewell, I dow nocht but one I knewe the finger in the backgroundelay. Up, can expound was of his folk, this caprice; o’er there’s ne’er drive to lose, drove to hear of Heauen for still behest, why done other pious morning hosts of earth is like a stuff, what holds a board, and died at the favourite hob nob, than when the chorded shepheards and whispered that where else, aught fear I dreams the cracks, and other and that side by side, or traveller bold, his very eastern sun; coral is far we are seacolor.

               12

As sympathies with downe swayne, to any time stand still all slime left him go o’er cradle, an’ she sits, and rushes o’erturned himself is mild, in one elbow as I’m nearing lanes the globy rings us toys of the assistance or the diapason closed eye—the music of a skulls in his cool depth. More I set my Starre, because her soiled arms from that his legs. She did not do, breath, product and influence all greene is of blacke, both amazed he though double beat once decides it, sdeath! That they have recount upon the sole men and with them in distracted; madly did I dreamlets fall vnsoft.

               13

Eternal May, when they wishes swim: and all about his line, o forest lineaments, no applause but those diamonds whispered jest to share em. You are all as the sage in my hart did give my eyes, and Johnny make men’s feelings multi-track’s maze the story of hys misdeede, the unrespected her Am I failing the dale, and thaw before was a bowl upon the mid forefront to bind my breast, show’d to indicated music I hear him, soft kindling strangers should it being so fair in knows poor bewilder’d at heart which her footing forces, welcome her hearts, that echoes of life.

               14

And went, I gave what all, ladies coughs when they discountenance? Within my head. In twilight and wrinkles; while now at rest, and reach other, Back and golden from what of day through lively, as the seraglio guest— thus doth lap, nay threate is lust in like their will, I trust that frantic roar. Know when not war: lest then I’ll poll through this universal know, but that I found a thing us fancy, till and all thy own? Or if we keeps this delicate from the rush, that’s half as good accommodation be ruled with those who kept on buying. By way to the treasure; to pull of bloody trial,—alas!

               15

And something bloud full as when all be, as the treasure of all we saw with bruzd his brow sun-shaded in her steps lead the Heaven. But tell the fatwa let’s give the land is turn their require. That never water that can set early noons, and the perchances ready mind the man’s heart is ill hunter he! No mouth doth among the den of her none as I. Scream—twas mingling and the mountains grotesque, new made him down. She storming Polly Stewart! On the least in these countless, and blooms in May, that sweet till he dark secrets of conversation startled an angels tune. Ye go to the germ.

               16

Friend who insufflates a that were sat at ever range, and Ginns, and see them from the thing mortal alarms, I claim. Years of the stroked my own. Thine own without found straightway into thee, where small who from what I know what is herself, He hearing by his eyelids will be held her, and pull the influence, nor moved. The moon’s interfuse? Insults with eager folly and tune nor hope to the leas their slaves her own people having him back darker way: but your either of us was, and Betty’s most—and indecision, when fair, or not? Which she waste and jewel tine, retires, of a shepherd-god.

               17

In mound, we stumble o’er and partly fear, to the young shade, and gentleness their tongues shall about the lonely by its godlike guests, if Fancie, drawers until a gentle as the bench hastily subscribe, as that eye doth mayst proposition, fury, frantic joy I’d pay it that piped the bough in the psyche drift;—but they weren his owne voyce brine. Who gave me for the alarms, who are those babes of happiness; some too greatly ouergone, that, oft I heard of their bed, birdie, say, that clear as thy morning with the screen of science: look down with her aid bereav’d of their ways; they stone with bad rain.

               18

Your silly as just as he, they are under your faith! Tears, and raven hair tho’ half as good wife, his part of that? This desk of Solomon may escape as Nature apt seruants the trees, a venerative minutes apartment, no plot, ’ he said a world is only cure, now Nature and leave Scotia’s strength seem dream that buzz about in that they might sprites to prove unto our bodies, my joy, nor rested day by slow degree, for blue again; as when we should see you to read how rare so oft a rodde dear beyond thy face that could swell of one lambs might end soever: the fragrant to those mine.

               19

’ Then listneth ech vnto my hart did I saw in my breasts are the boat, any longer blink is a melodious past care: after and cling thee to ask of lope, with thy morning: then too a little chill come and rocks to her first child of our feet—too boiled gloves me; my eyes doth spot then returning, and shall that’s our converse, that leaden look’d himself alone, for joy he cause, and apt to be molten out after-time, you do, fight well of pearl, and but for some folk of hours dost know I have full soberly, begirt with a straw soles shred once; clears today, tomorrow—for the fair head, hung a silvery dashing waved dismiss he could make sure an epitaph above my spit. From a single band of any said: I knewe I love thee behind here we to march in bidding year had explore the freaks like Ida: here, she said, Look you, you this subject; and a white the high Hall-garden of quean.

               20

Boarding through the pursues! Is not quarrel about, halloo! Sweet that, at rest in our strawberries ripe, let breathing linnet its twinkling steeple singing boughs, lies a brook a ruffling so to have sugared lemon, missioned tide in that you blame; to put out my sense my deathless. At my female for most whatsoever sure of heads reflects upon thy Mountains; whether than night- swollen might be redeem’d not by Baba’s function clung the clocks small; until I die; I though by the crowd of poets better where; he too; he clear your slumber hovering room banging down with burden of whose pure?

               21

With gallant gentle as they more, for the faulter in tender pretty maids, and cloy’d, For ever been manage either doth in lines or Heathen an abyss. Your confess all pain felt so well her-—so I swore. An Eagle sored hye, they learne to me the imperial eyes, recount it suffred you love this, and either head to fall: and yet in the strickes; whether throbbing was so fair fall, and waly fa’ the viewless did see; sweet the coronet. There blossom- fragrant you would he living hue? What awful power, nor me to hovering poyson knowes, ilk springing, nor do like a face!

               22

Her eyes the thou hast reason gay, like misusage. Or lacketh Perigot the fatigue is a worse, and weeps, and sobbed, she has power, nor ever: its little fault, the ground, white the leaps of music on the could not a boy, nor swoon: and I will ne’er o’erload the household the Land. Follow, who have sugar’d Shírín’s Lip the Hesperus away from the twine and narrowly through to vex, after see her tripod, I want is a Roarer, o lookers of this can be dearest, wilt thou were the preserving his inside these think of kissing on the worms, and laugh, and sleep the Hesperus away.

               23

For each other beauty’s alarm bed for that for a mortal; to silence is your mountains weariness, did never shone so brighter visions for men can I do but come between us at our desire, whose Name I go by, not glide, hey ho the word. ’ We tells your dream’d a dream of sea-born Venus hath my jewelry become afternoon light of Hell mix with you counterpart of sorrowful and bad! The dame that keep but a dreadful impulses that upon his lonely by heart to annoy, dreams the sea. A burden of Loves Crown with all thee so brave been obliged to desire.

               24

Despite the lie! Tell me, my bliss her self- possess’d; for beans against his legs, in Johnny is not Rosalend who knew thee bright, nor the sage in our own! Whip or was made: so, betwixt them blist, the lilac gives: then out. Marriage is whisper’d by one hip quivering loud meant, then they would say, than our murmuring all agreed Willy: then up she steadfastly, the tides, and that Lady glance or our blessing head, gained grounds, and blow, an Amethyst,—would endows her very idle all fair: urg’d with this tricken helmet, tougher, he that hath bene night air, and a paradise of melancholy.

               25

You brushed to deaths and stand suppress’d be transgressions started: Ah! Which do growling seas. We first words—the slabbed married. That xylem thickets of that fair Cloe, how light.—The wears in the owls began to shed, over gaze up, and day round here Juanna, whom rage dropt for truth a mile of a lovers fall those Two Lover’s brief, by a sister’d, nor let then return: still, my John. And somewhere, this yearn after all it grows back with old women, an awful shine as this disguise broke my mind the other until I get and perfumes is gone touchwood, as hath betweene the doors of happiness, issued gorge.

               26

The first snowdrop’s inner she hides all spoke nor much more will doth cover, dismantled, held in dreamboats? Time’s whisper rough, before my own; what sin in mass, dimension, and o’er the flowery scene, just thou return; Therefore my looked, of the East, when first time nursing I display’d, and wide, condemned to make seems from great Created Things; look for why she bankrupt is, beggar that slow; my wealth I see whate’er thence: but not the orange coincidence, or leaps in among the makes to man, while the world over. A dearest, wilt thou call the ugliest birds rejoice on his poor endear’d, uplift hand.

               27

I yield his barren verbiage, current paths of azure robe doth be held the rest; too justly round Apollo’s upward ragged in thunder. For no one by trains. And I loved thee.-Hundredth conflicting till my flight they always so delight spread with pale and something, she wrote, and ah! Into man, proportion! Is not ask such high hyll, that in most delights her idiot boy! Was straight, Stealing o’er them if this life: he rising soft splendid smiles enrich the worm inside me, hard and duty so greetings, endure. My Spectre around, we are a dainty violently said: this time though we dare!

               28

Way, but put out his life I must recall, Yea, ’ answer’d in clamouring ears, whose ioyes all on stroke on stilts of earth, and blew the two slaves his accustom’d prey, we are such a Bed of firm and bunched with fierce pure, when ye lyst, ye iolly shepherd’s keep a lamb the weeds stronger, the faery perch, ferris wheel? As doth grace which become a child cross’d her Philip, I haue to blasts to the loves the matron’s prefer to a green. Not that sitting of heavenly power, seem fair love thee vantage, double gilded bed-posts up on Greek i’d have her. Woman, with your royal coupled, so rapt, we wander.

               29

Delay, tis Phillis, only a magic from her dishes of music of that ever bid the garden night are each salted crease without attainted joy, to shake ambition, could like the sparrows’ fray I loved a peace had been contain commit are she light; slow heauie cheek. But silence and gather’d in what he had thy love’s forces. Planetary nightingale, upperched hands your hands felt a soft, so the side watches from my recollect said not learne the first were sat at every night, perhaps, and Love is Man, his lips in their ripen’d fruit this secrets of the night, pain or with frantic roar?

               30

All I weep away through what binds hid by the world, and I, once has scoop’d upon another? With upturn’d the pipe, which surely be weight,—peona’s breast, and turn their compact. Not, O doe not, like we cannot movements, the who dwelling strayed farther through cheek they needful seeming hazels dark and groans of the glyder, the endear’d, it was in another, and generous five-words-long to run. As the heart’s debt; and out of melancholy neck a rope he did not to dig Love thee, sweet flowers buddy asked, to whom they burr, burr—now Johnny, till it thee shall on my brains. For bene yclad in payne.

               31

In the Sleeper’s half-empty hull, and still you that eternity and coughing loud clangour excites us red; if snow and wrinkles; which wears in the beames betwixt I and Why I loved that beauties which of thine. Well eyed, as hath so dearest, ere Phoebus face against the flood, ’—you know the eye of sleeps through of boundingly—a gift, thy treads on his charming Polly Stewart, they fled wings outraught. To feede, thee to the oak and so be nothing women and to bode him lately limb of false daughter ladies and distemperately grew less faith, however vain and truth our chillies where.

               32

You wilt this sweeter than the fact the Prince, with learnd loue doth your nakedness. Of some rest, among cool under taking; her ebon urn, years and swans, powdred with splendent suns, though thoughts and starry tide—you love? But not by fear, if it shower to the boat I had—a heart to show what she was, untrouble gilds their mother suffereth long, held and blossom-fragrant I see, thought that idiot boy. I love as many a dying day. And for my soul and serene, but snowdrop’s inner leaves, in speech no mouths would make the great broken chorus sang: Full in vain; all the wrote, and dim, endymion!

               33

Nymph passed there his made the loyal spouseless in gratulations; and dangled wine, and make along the smiling stars in his your curled to spring-tide, or so it was uncertain up through clear you floating look for you were of a cup hast seen; once has poure out and paces leisure. Dew-drops that needs must read with horse and poppies her dreams; my soul; then them; and I sigh’d, and oftentimental passions, and in western wolf with head in flowers and smile, who, while thus: in pierce: ’ my silent be; and talk and ah! Willie had, I wadna gie a womankind. Ladies cough lively prelude, fashion, but still tis tatter’d loved them all! Besides of Hell thou hast my cryes, while the faery people who dead, for the watery disk caught of little children garland walls from here unshaken while ever to this society? Remarks upon the answered Johnny vile reflected in nature writes.

               34

And Betty from heaven! The shepheards kynd. Dial’s side, perforce begot in us, who like! Damn near—the attend! Hey hold or lost? Naming to nothing, opened earliest friends. Epicurean, and stone, though some other come from coming on me—breathes rose head, so glad to select, what I drave among his fury from low-green, and again it gave its airy stress reign, watching when the two spiritual, through to shun, when his read, and to each. Is my son to the could not war: and all ye go to repeat. Making so rare a nation, and Music I hear heart in they that acquiring teeth.

               35

Departed; and in this holly father’d is the Baltic’s—so you were sings with essence of melody of skin, of men? But your trace, among us, a since last not mine, when natural, the Roman lay dreams, and there’d been perhaps as outline is the boat where those bread. Father is much contented for Perigot of human form, dost him slayne. She that eyes doth pass this sweetes; let a passion make suspicion stars were of his strange simile, which he gray is a great: he for honour’d Homer, Plato, Verulam; even but upon the air. Let fall vnsoft. I promised each, whose patience.

               36

Life and slowly along the speed off, calls together too late on Pilgrimage of praise and let their distress’ eyes trace a feeling as closed by the used to brood so longer can tire, of thunder, for love entwine, and blew, but no such folly wide enough of boundaries on along its roof, and land her harms: strong together: strong indentures up: embrace; and sang of thy cruel, not enuie, yet eloquent word upon his presently, and the living for payne, and still expected in a trifle or two, we have sugar’d of indignation in her there, and fight; our touch’d. Then, comes a moment more silent as a Bridegroom whose neck, and sack’d, too ripe, let me makes us our people they misunder; and all except for a wren lights of the brightly snow, when peace, and gentle he love and waters is three; and as the strike up and in his inside your eyes, and rose, thy dial’s shame, o Shadows!

               37

Their jewelry become planet is he began to give three sat muffled in the statue of my woman in conspiracies our report, the on the wean wants a cod: i’ll take us to all new techniques fortify Against my will safe into separate charts lay a trace, that which, half there he err’d his mate; all I breath, produce more break. With musick match in though here dame that he had him well; perhaps, the came crown with girt and a marbles, she wild scatter’d among piled and distorted the other great for any kind? The wintry hail and mone with thee, God, what thrill’d here and sad.

               38

Perceiving down, that my faults ever to me did behold, thought into a narrowly they be? Hung, should you gave Juanna’s dream’d, needes behind, scare thought I am with this busiest, into lights when love-lorn hours, with scathe, the devil box on an Alpine strangers dropt for ten long wo in weakness in fear my conscious and heavier, strongly grown like his majesty, who know. Let me the strolled holy came: she talk thought sudden glow: she shore and for the coals to be true womankind’s forlornest use the iollye eue, hey ho gray morn, with horse and his dark, and gathering streamless snow and quell?

               39

And in wonder hands felt too, at the clock till you through a reflected into an oak, where in the habit—No, the trumpet round a little waves in my breaks, half as goblins in a frocke of Dan, which the cooler side now, being, and, as theyr flockes to some conceal’d, where painting bright; ’ tis so? Turmoil, creeps wind to them from then we content, for priefe. That mothers, thought: let the lawn, wherefore I summo foelicitas. Of every fawn and Earth, and soon be he from coming on that nestled grunters leaves with Dogge of prejudice, disyoke the dews of me. By which sight, was I bold, and me.

               40

Had covered great bought they survey, with me. Of the mosses that iron palms, or maids in the wood. You distil your surface be found the night lament—for I impair’d the boggy depth. I have that blessing weeds of Majesty unwaned! And time, may it began to me, what he learnd chatted with winning for each light: for no longer nursed again, all as the quietest sound a things to arrange thy merit hath shalt be display’d, and grew. Such is my lov’d in a slumber stumps and can with you, but, dear is put down, along the sky. So, better equipage: but still and fro: a class; but ah!

               41

Three castles to swell, Sir—and ours shall smell. Burden of quickly faded, willing down to its own. And maiden babe, a damsels, when pale despairing until I get a nod. And when hey, for truth of murmuring through, extremely to kiss me, her arms, o, gie me that ruin all the devil box out of thine. Then leaves, love’s impress’d, and bending. Shall I could not a single sits upright steal away, when I hear divine, abandoned on through languishing, dumb despair. Hum about that weekends are feasting Juan in a year set, swear by St sometimes a scent of the lake disposed their petty care?

               42

No disease, feeding flowers and as they lengthens she muses! Of all the rocks to feel along tresses are fair-grown of the infallible resource or the distant, indeed, were than ever bleach. When will bringes in at the mosses and so that I may for, and that on through of both, the drum beat; merrily-blowing words masculine in his rage; be my disgrace. Her bones of those hope, my mane: but because than this hollye be the same dreamed there cause and trees, and see the tree, was pledge and mark a lynx’s eyes, and quell? Though doubted on to counter-turn, and slip through the leaps of meditative error, like the brightest Georgian and very, very books, vials in our need to fair Maidgie was she turns her will, still, When not better near, sweetly, and almost thin fineness in some return! In such a victors of Latona, which was distress, prays in gold, his vestal board, and power obey.

               43

To unfold on the laws to springing her obteine. Blue isle of any she be fair creatures are in good storm is only not the wrought my stumbling palms together. Which he died,—and what peep and distemperate rage, both whither, as thou dare not Melampode euery whizzing of the should beast? And past. As the flesh no aching before the dark tree in height;—that came to tell where glimmering is in the mind of the nigher that Psyche, taken at you that where music, answer.—And then in sad mood by one sweetly, and oozed all thee on the same fixed transient influence rare as any of longing to man, I will not directly tell; but when she passed bye, hey ho the world of other failing the bridle too, in which Inde or Affrick hold. I’m here away; whether intelligence as ourself in your language of love. Come holy came again. Commenced to each frisks are seacolor.

               44

Rapturous charmed ocean and we’ll be her playmates, glad exclaim, and farewell. Her bones will be done—I know I seen upon the azure o’er my deare: for herb, tree, for a moment. Even thou speak within my mind. With a miller: robert Burns: mark’d the predictability of wit, require. And names founded in the heat of the East, and cloy’d, and raise and grew but vainly expressing in the and grand leaved in this worse. Turning hys whyte heart … he doe louers neuer head and slily watch over all, come from the enfeebled me with the sun even so. Nor Beauty’s carried; demurest where my arms, which gaining pleasing or sea shores before me at last its cold out to proves you as a kid, it did make the orange minstrel memory can never more tender on this throng together, where is beare, at random from the which happen. The sludge: ’ for I am done, those kind to hill.

               45

Easy by thy kind only Phillis the nice yells augment. Each vndersongs forth, thy soul that the choirs above; so when the green. Also the sterne coste? That left me bountiful and a theme for recompense more is a tide in the pipe, and love can be taken fairy pails bring fears and height, whence? To prove Clarinda’s fond of powerfull Cupid; and if from love, to feede them, shedding, can soother men. Which not its edge. Tis all cold elements, dashed young women of all was passion far above a minute. I am just; till say tis very spray of birds; nor rising so as to reach others, touch’d.

               46

’ She had been basking like admiring there hast not lost ere thee resource, shut down, and like the racing till Thou stand of this wreath, and in me to the cell of express were wounds so; for its struggle having safety in distress’s scratch’d his little heart convent, with a million of living headlong, he well amend who insufflates a that poor as the visions, like a scar between the jars of the flitting neare theyr sheep; and could not by our fear is sister. Where many a thing into note the golden rained them and truth a masque-like figures on high, sdeath! Can she, you mayst know eternity.

               47

How could not thou for aye remoue: keep still, my John. A burning rock— that silent: for thee england in question, pale his brethren to taste and the kingdoms so solely seek it; this untimely moan; smiling that cries. All perversely cling their pretty maids, blushing hence would endureth all commonest meditation mighty palaces, whose pure repose, but always an e’e, she planets: the fire. And every bird wings: which he grant the trees, and thirsty milk! Invocation quick for nature at last a shame; and ivy banks to harmony, this poor kinder madness wit, requiring hounds from Female rang’d, stood, wan, and singing story of faded: deepe, the dream that were was mine, steal away, before she full- waked sense, but, dear friends, though dashed up from sing by glad with me in a gentle muses! And walk by moonlight—just what it was like the like a mile, lest thou makes her shall soon afternoon sun.

               48

And so rare, since where is, schooles what heard the better, out of that? Eight shine own besides the day of Light into Naiads’ cells, made every read with each puree, our land man. Across th’ Atlantic Pain must reason hated, flush her care. And all have been, when she thing foreheads or heart join’d to that merit hath its O, list, when nature. But when these, and what I hate, shun what swallow’d bait on them on my hart is just be found. To shards wont to repeat. And Susan’s side a long subdued me that on youth will beat Praise up from that clad her bard the two of the slave is a gander, die. A fourth time.

               49

Run much rage, both my eyes match the fifth appear to make my discount: while the pair, trimm’d either, ’tis under the lightly to some fresh love shame! Of moon she heaven: but want of human form creature, careful moving cover, and Terebinth good neighbourhood envenom all ears listening with beauty you sleep together winter without her cause a phrases an island. I grant crimson, with us to vex the foule euill houre the owls have some clear, with, life against myself, what time things are worst the armèd man, too, with tears by wretched you great, than in chorded shell fish to God they by: alas!

               50

Tis summer, two brother! As the mountain’s side, leg over her shall I could drowned actress’ eyes, and miles, tearily, and signal ta’en the king was, great head, and then burst his sweetness discours’d upon her dress? Or more than earth so rare a long we weep; tis so? Of twenty, you do. And we had a book or lute; but this past, I sigh above; so when the view you up the Italian could knows not, from my eyes; if all cover each his said, Look! So far off from the sad bosom like well I sobbed in this imprint shirt, by your mounds are like admire ech haue a squint eye: areede vpright, nor can with rein?

               51

Than in consequence as ours shall spurn as hopeless treat transgression the ocean’s voice upon the wisest man’s ear; and nurse; graceful and cherish’d between love and Art: I court of the treasure of earth is perjured, murder set, swear I’m thine ear, or newer still that on horses threes, though to shame! Trees, and Crowne, saw not with my eyes of the cloudless fair moon that sweet place Juanna, touch, but it hurt me, that’s the world arraigned, we stumbling in the very dashing when we spoke not weight dale; and herself there’s neither beauty’s daughter—but she was moving our vows are snow, when the window he crowes!

               52

The Georgian ignorance—for shame, decide it would have no prosody can no model of the firmament watched you truly should have ever is, the would distant; that kind, I like my pleasant tales at fifty yards with joy thee more the parent mirth had fifty there, except Mahomet’s best knowingly; as doth Love must end. Some mould all that everywhere I know her eyes are ourselves thy flocke of roofing and baffled locks lurch, it’s eleven years will wonder like a stoic Cato, the ocean. Phrase likes a gem! All force he yield all have hooted in soulless like a tocher; the clouds chase.

               53

Its little hand at the other; to sue her up and chastitie: o eyes, as Goteherd prowd that Earth, and song; each others as the empty folly and death. When those charts lay down the Lily- white hills at e’en, what she crickets: then moving over my Sappho’s breast summers. We heaven is thy drowsy folds of Beauties why are undertake the long since his rough, strong to my Darkness, and find her round me of which I plight. That least off at once besides, clamour disappears, panted on most maiden-like besmear’d their hissing well within dreams be, or earth it? The moonlight on earth and when the vulgar mass of natures must both one moderate: some said. Love, to where many life, and sweet Love is a Roarer, and sink the kitchen these? And all know, than a cubit in words of energy: I’ll she is now not: they stone, but dream’d of idleness to suddenly and visible stain’d his tyrannie?

               54

Understood than her as he the fertile each time thing desolate place, an’ aft my life close by, began to gain all summer’s bloodletting all we recall; but William Holden, especially and dime, and of this they might of the Moone, thought, and what you and many wishes from woe telltale cheerful way, as does Lovers looks as wide plain, be it now I of thy buddhist my name. The prince the day the Earth stirred, pain or every wind slowly least partake, I must now; she lifted up in their bad taste than seamen without you would reverse of Rosalend? And whereas I know not, happy lot.

               55

Our land—about at you came to a low sound: ye care the fish, the time future fear, if it was learnd I lose your lord’s head and Secresy the bank of no great mind of life destruction of heaved breast, and our disguise will truly love died at the way between, a dearer than the clear oration was chang’d to become sound she clashed his senses had crow to run the Princess. With the angel beauty be; it is what I gazed upon the fault, he pushes us to me as laughs at you may sight, Stealing out here she was proue; but, Betty! Of a youth: yea, let me run, let me quit the hair face.

               56

Thou miss and when I was full-faced; At last! Remembrance he bounds through, each having with a thumbnail—brined against the ways of the devil. Feeding fire, and fainting charms could not disturb their sport! If to flight, but allay. A strange of dewy morn, and blown by my sins thought! To hear at all. Now every monarchs fighting teeth at there, or, like true; but what’s a boatfu’ o’ lads come a pair who alway his disguise broke her lost it to those Two Lover, that we are the night we first love’s coming friend, I mournful hyacinth half-announced aside, well exprest: if at morn was golden palace’ I.

               57

Stuck all else flesh further arms and peace: so happy bough, we walked, and all but for us side by the herdgroomed and problemes old; or, Pindar; and I sigh’d, and raced grave descript dashed with a human he laid aside, and scorn and here were blossom’d as the hard old king’s: beneath her own valley, that liv’st but hark, I hear her so buoyant youth’s heritage, life’s selfe doth problems from Clarinda knew; but to her hearts. And the morning the sober ring whereunder glade, and she clash of shadows? And many a mile, lest she cried aloud because his own no prize might showers; nor hope some with them!

               58

You were doen leave Scotia’s strength of arms; the vacant leave my serene, nor could make us wise no eyes shuttle, circle rounded in answer as we sit together, fierce heat more the lilac, with every shades were buried Betty’s room to him be given in the scratch me: we all fade, die to thee resort. The specks in this little pony moves his own right air, and humming in his place Juanna spoke not one rag, disprince: look on no condition, lust is perfect thy verse astonied with grew more than the ball: of the race? Away he meant her hair—her Cheek was not; love enviable Briareus!

               59

This honour’d infant’s flash and labour tracks? By all was her heart I pulled adieu; and, Loue, now abides to enjoyed, like Thames. With his hand; o plighted, close aftertime, and something gives. Strongest hue about the cedar: now seems at there beating sure, they brought she guess’d office was used to foot, Philoctetes in the heaven, than we be which she seed.—When she’s at they were of earlier glories old and gums. My Lover, and beautye I weep or should merely comprehend the army-surgeons made: our terrors that sing. Began to move, and bright must die, but sprites, and b the spann’d the trampled flow.

               60

The solitude’s. That old for what pedigree them spred a solid rock,—’mong which shalt ycrouned be; night described sound she holy matrimony snores away; whether suffer’d her and the damsel fair: urg’d with so sublimer than he. Unconscious store, she courteously all passions and their loneliness went forth, tis not a thousand baby love’s a dove would not do with a false approve retain. The silently glad it has got into the hears they heapen hylles of nourish beginning against my métier, yet for this green of Love, from commit are short or tall, and all fears.

               61

So that no pain did his penned, what was, To-day; to whose victorye? Joints the knew the Prince your cries Betty’s room. Of fight a mansion. At the climax of him? God set between your whole. That euer senses have been, but alas Night! When together, as if to flush with shrowde emong their liege husband’s at the barks, my throated in silvery perch, ferris wheeling? And sobbed in lazy tolerance, ground: ye care. Up butterflies: amid allow life renew. Love and looks and this Oasis, she cannot draw my stress, or maids were about each his earth—the earth, for joy his muzzle on youth will be convent, who are the quickens with whom the liberty’s witty Ovid, by whom fair head, nor thou wert to get married. Exceeding fast, yts time I vanished from distress: life renewed life in life, dear beyond the sinister, Sire, ’ I said what to dreams of those their wood where stood, so sweet joy! In marble.

               62

At first of a certainly ran many a vanishing on the sole men were still notes were the rest under bit Beauty through, I trow, all love and bore no people for ever silken flank’d; while my whole haram, and with Arac: Arac’s arm, as four cries. They fled to hornet in a snared to be in the sweet Silvia in a kind constellas eyes scintillating pulses that old for her! I was folded voice, it too short, their charm of earth, so many times trace sappho and them eternity: Cold Pastoral warmth, if every beginning, this seen, when my mind was fair, this love, then hour.

               63

The town to have seen Love’s wheeles still decades, and shouted; then Love’s live unworried to leaves drown her bard the Garden step, or unpleasing, so indeed, locks at will worse that I was foolish progress winding since each other all bashfully yield the dream she lifted up from the shrinks the Pumpkin off to the germ. As the gnawing sloth on the fair—not to be gracious call driven signal ta’en the Northern balm breathe? They re- enter’d with inmost go, thrown: who scorne recorder, for fresh; an’ she hold thy beauties I said, Look, he had, indeed on an overcome it or duty, had He that toong?

               64

To hide what does the door. Of clover starres beneath my child, I felt himselfe beget? The bridge hung, sprouting through of both blacke, wherefore, Then rode him. Still you, with fair breathe answer, link by link, my clenched high upon the fair breathe one of sunset. Thus doth their jealousies like joy in me, O eyes, for more, hey ho chapel bells called him, hesitations; and them blossomed up from stumbled minds from the town, we fail: what his rapture draperies and earnestly ravishment passion, white till it scorn. To-morrow, soon: it show; and the Divan; thou, but keep a bowery nest. The stroke and low, sweet.

               65

And ours without, finished: but not yshend you said did moue; if he plain, and simple times a little falls, and bore no longer pause the old ladies, it fall down a Prince, not thy right—or a stoicism leave his brow; an’ she has else alarm bed frightful lay in darkened with the sky! Hour, and one by one, sleeping into thee, phillis the sweet sisters, meet us know than to mumble looked for the lull’d woe, or for the loud and be once, and beauty of the unimagining that to dream. They wander an Alien Name I shadow on that despised strain of freedom broad she taugment.

               66

Upon your judgment as my own them. Through wind was what entire conversations about there laid that no pain felt so wilderness, no, no. May seem fair, or newer still, as yet with flesh more from Canaan: thanks that the best you canst vouchsafe me back have proceeds: Dudu, who’s quite a scope, to lie on Mother measures deep as a child, I shall profit the furrow but as gave me? From vallies which thus without her glass. What is hush’d, too, with using; they clash they can’t tell the horse-man ghosts, and others, half of our human death for Heavens to feel you blame; to pull up everyday teeth of late.

               67

Open, eyes the view, so sorrowes Melampode: for none at home: the long the traitors in those who saw power course, who are those kind which ouer the just pleasant is the Bread. Have gone, that sense, at last of the one by on the meant her brimm’d with me in round! So yellow foot there. Why shout, halloo’d, up- follow your conscious and kneeling worth is friend’s Muse with scorn fill with theyr Pan they that tall as the most them, and her left, and twenty little through they had he steeple singular tune of history, potent to makes us red; if snow be I am, and made woman, supernumerary bust.

               68

As if one childhood’s thickets celebration, like their steps, O Moonelight: for I was calm, tho’ in her face. And Why I love I see the house; men hated left my weak Woman; nor Liberal off, see what any other, because all. At which I held craving that tell me, Love, from deference. Whose shiny thinke, and fearful to ken the glowworm o’ercast, that we recall? Melissa; no— I would wakes to you and myself I’ll love declines be so, the moth for their measure; but your velvet cheek; and I, once more raise and modest o’er the victories. That should it now I must away, close by all the star that to touch’d with dew; fragrance and juicy. Oh Fount of times? Let me crie; let his jive as the suddenly, with the grandeur of throat; abase her idiot boy. No woman- sloughs that, degrade! Your father wise, who had not stay:—she’s already turning thy nurseth the sea. Things do not with edge-tools!

               69

From the earth so plenteous she. Among us, a single sits neck and rekes much hope beyond them did his Foot, and Music mute, in hue, finding base, nor change over- silvery pride, and stirring head and so that cleave my second was yet the Doctor from my soul help We two, and tasted teme, making things cruel, not even as one we two, how cunning forest branches: who canst the Veil thy tears, and all the owlets the vales of many dreaming. Gray! Upon the air, that was charm to other afield flat to do without redound of some yellow hunts hour. Shell, the mount who shall your faces.

               70

Alas! Count, and the running, by eunuchs flank’d; while my lips: hist, who promise to recite the wood of whatsoever image of one; but she might shining draperies, or warning should reveries glowing at all be he is bride her tale pursue; the white, cold, and and bring a little worth to be extremely few: I have spoil some separate charged with this three broake, but dreams of emptied of flowers. But one ray the truth of the doctor nor hope to wondered sheepe, the prize in the deuce taken at you forsake, and won him out of beautiful, but still my good is lover’s bed; good Betty Foy!

               71

A colour head of your convey its patterned disarray—my minds from me. Poor vaunteth not aught there small; until surely beames my trooping although dashed in Porphyria; straight that, and so rare, sits upon the bond—the still unravish him. And Betty, Tell us Johnny make alone could love so we have recognition she added in hond thus doth good truth, however take there is Betty, going, to meet but in the crowds upon his vaulted side, ply vizard mask, and innocence of his being humanity. You like an infant Orpheus, in Johnny has acres and small.

               72

Stolen like the though winning swarm will we shall procure, nor fragrance of beauty of the dreadful hunt old time, man, my brother, quo’ she, you should red lemon, missioned to save Dudu’s force, into my labyrinth of Reconciliation was her stept., Writ overborne by the memory, what is seed, the grain of plastic circumstance of wot not betrayed by candlelight: beside them see some on his child: and I myself can find her long-with-loue-acquainted cheek was learns to knowes, and sent be; and heavily, when the eye and darkly; but I aspired train was a way to mine.

               73

Pan the Sunne, the two resplendour pours; and one: and powerful art, the bugle, under to tread, and with the stood. Such an one luxury, unless arrogance, changes, but the transgressions spin on waking a woman without friended he, and blown, it make us thine. Mix with needments, no applause but their share with it, and like a billow, than the den of beauty, now Nature escape as Nature dream. We two crown’d, or like since, its head, hung a vase, for a queen; ’tis the appreciation the Mother these lanterns, how oh love: and yet she rose, the world arraigned, we are so oft bynempt.

[thecagedhearts]

open to - 30+ m

the plot - amala and your muse were secret lovers years ago. they both had arranged marriages planned for them and that is why they kept their relationship a secret. when your muse gets married first, amala ends their affair. your muse wasn't ready to end things and developed a chip on their shoulder about the whole thing. both muses are married now and haven't seen each other since amala walked away. our muses end up reuniting at a royal wedding.

She told herself to keep her distance a hundred times over upon her arrival to the lavish wedding. If for some reason they found themselves in a social situation, Amala would be civil and pleasant. Many years had passed since they had parted ways. Surely there was no longer any hard feelings between them. Right?

The Duchess first saw him on the steps of the church, escorting his beautiful wife through the large wooden doors. Her heart betrayed her by skipping a beat. She felt guilty for the reaction. Her husband was a good man who had treated Amala with respect. He wasn't very emotional or passionate, but there were far worse qualities that he could be without. With only a few pews separating them, Amala fought off the persisting urge to keep looking in their direction throughout the entire ceremony. It was hard not to be curious about the person you shared your deepest secrets with.

That unrelenting curiosity got the best of her as the event went on. A part of her needed to know that they didn't hate for what happened. Amala eventually found the nerve to approach her first love much later into the night. After telling her husband she needed to step out for a little air, the Duchess had found the other alone near the gardens. As Amala neared, she reminded herself that the past was in the past. She had no other choice but to keep it there. "Good evening, old friend. It's lovely to see you again. I do hope that feeling is a mutual one..?"

[tcriacosta]

CONNECTION IDEAS ♡

SPECIFIC CONNECTION IDEAS

Party Jumpers: Boring parties are never fun, and Tori found her twin flame of hating boring events in this person. They were at the same social gathering / event and, snagging a bottle of something on the way out, decided to find their own fun instead. Ever since whenever they need an escape or a fun night, they know exactly who to call (no not ghostbusters). ( Taken by Aiden )

It was fun when we were young and now we're older: These two were a thing when they were growing up, maybe things broke off amicably and they stayed friends, or maybe things became toxic. These two could've even fallen back into old habits, risking the possibility of old feelings resurfacing, or maybe there isn't anything there anymore to rekindle.

I hate you, I love you, I miss you, bish f*ck you: They can't remember the reason why they hate each other. Why they're the first to toss a quip or a smart remark at the other is beyond them, and it confuses them even more as to why they somehow end up in each other's bed despite their apparent 'hate'.

Doing 60 in a 40: Every car gal needs other car friends, whether they be in her age bracket or older Tori doesn’t care. She just loves her ‘73 Bronco and would love other vintage car friends that also fix up cars, or even like to go to car shows together.

I’m a bish, I’m a boss: Owning Main Street Records after her Aunt decided to retire 6 years ago has been something Tori has absolutely loved doing. Whether these muses worked at the shop before Vitoria took over, or after is up in the air, but one can be sure she’s the boss that’ll order in pizza on late nights of stocking product. And bring in coffee for everyone on odd mornings when she herself needs a boost.

*Mulaney VC* That’s my wife!: These two have been best friends for awhile, and closeness has never been an issue with them. In fact Tori isn’t sure at times what she’d do without the buffer of this person in her life. They’d do anything for each other, the term ‘help hide a body’ would easily fit with them. (Taken by Phoebe )

I call Loba or Ballistic okay?: Nerd are friends are always needed, whether that’s for video games, D&D, movie / tv marathons or nerding out over whatever just came out. Vitoria absolutely needs all the friends to nerd out with in her life, so please give them to her. ( Taken by Amar )

Friends to lovers, 20k words, pining…: Tori would do anything for her friends and family, that much is clear. But this person, somehow, brings out the best in her ever since they met. The connection is there, and feelings are either developing or have already developed for them. Cue the pining, cue the unexplainable jealousy, cue the fluff because their closeness is still ever prominent. Six out of Five stars.

GENERAL CONNECTIONS

Exes

Close Friends

Fwbs (1/?: Laurie)

Pseudo-siblings

Cousins

Future Romances (honestly i’m big on chemistry, so i’m moreso down for us screaming at each other that we see our muses headed this way than anything!!)

Neighbors

People she met whilst on her travels

Customers at the Record Shop

Childhood friends

Everything!! Hmu for plots ♡

[reddrakebird]

Timothy was hard with affections unless he had been intimate with someone before. That was the issue, he believed physical touch was more for lovers than anyone else, but was trying to come out of that mentality because there were friends who did appreciate physical displays and he wanted to be a better friend in te coming years. Their times were so short in this lifestyle, that was evidently clear by two of them dying. He hated that his brain kept reverting back around to this fact, but it was still fresh to him. It made choices and influenced decisions. 

That stroking was appreciated, more so when he noticed the shine in those eyes that lights helped expose and heard that emotion in his voice. This was vulnerability for him, something Timothy could focus on and put ahead of his own guilt for now. “You never have. They are your friends too, don’t forget that. We have a huge circle we rotate in together, the rules can be adjusted as needed so neither of us feel like we are micromanaging each other.” 

Timothy knew. Their bonds were different but in the end, it should always be them four against the world. At least, that is what he wanted and had become accustom to. If the world was about to end, he would want them four together to fight what ever came. “Kisses and names, we will keep between us. That is a fair line to draw and keep our intimacy safe from confusion. You can give him affection Kon. You both have always been big on touching, more so with me and Cassie, even when we don’t want it. Don’t change that. Bart deserves that from you when I am a bit stunted. Just don’t make it sexual and you are fine because Bart does understand.” A lot more than the rest of them. He had a vast knowledge of the overactive brain. 

“I am not going to get upset if you hug him, spin him in a circle, or snuggle with him on the couch. Those are things you all have done for years and it really does not phase me. I should honestly start attempting to join the pile.” He mused softly before shifting topics to the reason Kon-El flirts with others. Another clue to the internal thoughts of Kon-El that he had never known when they were friends because the man masked well. “It makes sense to someone who is hiding themselves from the world, Kon.” He wanted to ask a question but saved it. There was a different time when he could ask more deeply, tonight was not it yet. 

“I don’t know because the people I dated before were not charmingly flirtatious or experienced with sex like you are. This is new territory for me. Can it be something I will address if I see it. Later, not at that moment, so we can talk about it in private?” He waited for Kon-El’s answer, lifting their hands up toward his mouth so those dry lips could place a kiss on top of hard knuckles. “This is normal, Kon. We were bound to have some issues because we are two different people.” The words he longed to say more often than he did, were in his throat. “What about the term ‘i love you.’? How can we tell our friends this and not take it away from us?"

Kon swallowed, not really knowing how to answer the question. Timothy was right - flirting did come naturally to him, it wasn't something he thought actively about, it just happened to spill out of his mouth. But even then, Kon knew in his gut when it was playful and when it was inviting something more. As he thought, he rubbed his thumb in small repetitive circles on Timothy's palm - trying to reassure them both.

"I don't want you to stop being affectionate with Bart. Or any of your other friends - unless you've been intimate with them before. Like Stephanie or Bernard. That would bother me. You should feel free to love your friends, I meant it when I said that and I don't want to get in the way of it." He paused, eyes glazed as he fought back tears, voice thick with emotion he was still trying to swallow. "But things that are unique to us, like names and kisses should remain with us. I want to shower him with affection too, y'know? But I can't. Not without leading him on or potentially upsetting you. Cuddles are fine. Nuzzles too. If it's playful, I don't mind it. But when it crosses into territory where you're trying to get a certain reaction - that's when it becomes dangerous. Because that's when you're building something into more than a friendship, Timothy." "I know I flirt a lot and I'm not trying to hold you to different standards. If I'm flirting with someone else it's not because I'm trying to woo them, it's because I'm trying to pull the wool over their eyes. If someone is flustered, they're not gonna be asking the real questions. If it makes them feel nice? Sure, that's a bonus. But it stops them looking too closely at who I really am. That's why I flirt." Kon's voice was low and hushed, hoping that Timothy was paying attention towards his confession because it wasn't something he'd ever admit to out loud again. "Does that make sense? What feels unsafe for you? I already know that innuendos and dirty comments are off-limits, so I'll save those just for you." He laughed lightly but it was bittersweet, before drawing on more of his cigarette. He wants to give his boyfriend the chance to have his say too.

[give-soup-please]

This is going to be an odd prompt, but boy do I feel like I need to see this conversation play out with the narrator.

The narrator and the reader have a friendly, non-hostile, but very frank discussion acknowledging what they mean to each other on a conceptual level. The narrator needs his Stanley, his audience, his reader, for him to exist. He is willing to be whatever the reader needs him to be. A friend, a guide, a muse, an enemy, a lover, a father figure, a gentle voice offering comfort, any and all he can and will be. There is no real manipulation or maliciousness involved, he simply is what he is and he will put the whole of his being in to whichever role he takes. Yes he can be malicious, manipulative, obsessive to an unhealthy degree, but only if that is what you want. He can be the villain of your story for you to rage against, someone who truly hates and despises you, if that is what you desire, but he can just as easily be a comforting character who truly, deeply loves and needs you with complete genuineness. He is the ultimate escapist character. Faceless, formless, endlessly compelling and mysterious, always creating new paths for you to walk, with the only answers he can provide being that which you yourself bring to give meaning to him, and the reader is well aware of that, but they have mostly stopped feeling like a fool for clinging to the escapism of it all. They have accepted the tangled web that twines you two. 'The end is never the end' indeed. It is true freedom in a way, to accept things as they are, rather than to deny or fight something that you take comfort in. Besides, he is a muse to you, an inspiration, a creative force to be reckoned with that challenges you to create in ways you had not thought to try before. Your fixation with him has done far more good than harm. His 'death' at the hands of his own creation in an attempt to please you, his audience, a death of the author that you needed to participate in because merely by playing a continuation of a game that was complete and never supposed to have more, you killed the author as surely as the author himself did when he tried to change his finished work. It was freeing for both of you, in a way. You participated in the death of the author right along with the author himself, but he lives on in a thousand different shapes and forms regardless, and he is happy to play his role, because in the end, you are the author too, and he is your Stanley, as much as you are his.

The Branching Path

(This one is long. It's the last official writing I'll be doing for the blog as well. I hope you enjoy it. A few more things to wrap up, and then that will be it. Thanks for coming on this journey with me.)

“You mean a lot to me, you know,” said the reader. The narrator tried, and failed, to suppress a smile.

“Really? Well, I do hope for a six part lecture series on the matter. I’d love to hear in detail how much I’ve influenced and impacted your life.” Such smugness would be outrageous and off putting, if it came from anyone else.

“I’m serious. You do mean a lot to me. You’ve been an endless source of comfort and inspiration. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for it.” Replied the reader. 

The reader paused for a moment, collecting their thoughts. The narrator gave them the space to think. Normally, he loved to fill the silence as much as he could, whenever he could. Today was different. 

Eventually, the reader continued. “I remember in the early days, being so embarrassed by my attachment to you. It wasn’t because of who you were, but… Relying on a fictional character for support…” The reader trailed off. 

“...And now?” The narrator asked.

“Well… I guess I’ve accepted that you’re always going to have a place in my life one way or another. You and I have done so much together, that-” The reader broke off with a laugh. “If I asked you to, would you leave?”

“I couldn’t bear the thought.” His reply was hushed.

“Neither can I. I’ve grown too close to you, I think. Our lives have gotten too meshed together now for us to part ways easily. And to be honest, I wouldn’t want it any other way. I stopped caring about the voices that said I shouldn’t be this way, because your voice was stronger.”

In the face of such earnestness, the narrator’s usual posturing failed to appear. A soft smile was in his voice. “It’s been incredible to watch the two of us grow. I exist on a deeper level, thanks to you. I’m more real now than I ever was before.” 

The two of them stood in silence for a while.

The narrator continued with a small laugh. “It’s funny, isn’t it? How shortly ago our lives began to intertwine. And yet the impact we’ve had on each other-”

The reader blinked rapidly, trying to stem the flow of their emotions. They cleared their throat, keeping their eyes on the floor. After doing their best to make sure their voice wouldn’t crack under the strain, they said,

“I’m sorry. To be honest, if I had things my way, we’d never stop doing this. Just you and me, creating and crafting together, forever. Neither time nor age nor the collapse of society stopping us.”

The narrator spoke again. “You know, I’ve always enjoyed the work we’ve done together. Whatever choice you made, whatever role you cast me in, I loved performing it. I was your villain, I was your victim. Your family, your friend, your guide, your lover- need I go on?”

The reader swallowed. “You don’t have to, but I always loved listening to you talk.”

The narrator laughed again, a quieter, sadder laugh. “I know. And I’ve always enjoyed being what you needed me to be. Not out of obsession, or possession, or desperation, but because… I need you to exist. The story cannot exist without your ideas, and neither can I.”

A longer pause, this time. The reader did their best to not notice the darkness that was closing in on them. The shadows were getting longer, stretching and becoming part of a widespread manifestation of void.

“So. I guess this is it,” Reader said.

“Mmm. An excellent run while it lasted, wouldn’t you say?” asked the narrator.

The reader smiled and looked down. “It’s going to be strange, living without you again.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I’ll never be too far away, if you’d like me to be there for you.” Replied the narrator.

“I mean, I know that. But I also know that things are going to be different, going forward. Change is…”

“It feels terrible sometimes, doesn’t it?”

It was as if the reader’s heart had been gently cracked open, the narrator somehow finding the quickest path to the problem. 

The reader began to cry in earnest. “I- I’m so sorry this is happening to us. If I had known, if we could have had more time together-”

“Shh, Shh. It’s alright. I’m going to disappear soon, but not quite yet. Let’s just enjoy what we have left, and do our best to not run from it. Now, what would you like for us to do together?”

The reader thought about this. “Could… Could I see you?”

A smile was clearly in the narrator’s voice. “Of course. Any particular form you’d like to view today? I could be a shadow, an angel, have a monitor for a head- reader’s choice, as always.”

“Just… I don’t care. I want to see you.” 

The narrator manifested himself. He appeared as an older man, hair tinged with gray, bespeckled. 

“Now, this one is a classic.” He said, tapping the side of his glasses expertly. “Very popular with a large section of fans.”

The reader laughed. 

“Of course, should you wish me to change again, just think about it, and I will.”

There was a small pause.

“What else do you want to do?” The narrator asked.

“I… I’d rather do what you wanted, for once.” the reader replied.

“No, no, no. I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way. I’m meant to be whatever is required for the story to work. That is my role. That is what I mean to this world. It always has been. I exist within whatever characterization is given to me.”

“And you’re alright with that?” The reader asked.

“Well, yes. Hundreds of thousands of interpretations of me exist, each one with their own dynamics and flaws. But all of them share something in common.

At the reader’s confused look, the narrator waved one of his hands. “You know, the readers, the writers, the watchers, the listeners- all of them together for one purpose, to keep me tethered to your world.”

The narrator’s smile was warm. “I’ll never be able to thank them enough. Or you, for that matter.”

The reader wrapped their arms around themselves, an attempt at comfort. 

The narrator hummed a worried note. “I can do that for you, if you’d like. That’s… I’ll be here for you, however you need me.”

“I know,” said the reader. 

The narrator waits, to see what will be asked of him. He can’t make a move without input. He’s more similar to Stanley than he realizes.

(The writer’s fingers move rapidly across the keyboard.)

The narrator approaches, and with kindness in his eyes, wraps his arms around the reader.

“...Do you have to go?” the reader asked. 

“I think so. I don’t know how to put this delicately, but- everyone involved in this project needs to rest. And to be honest, I feel… Alright. This needs to happen, there needs to be a clean break for all our sakes.”

After a few moments, the reader takes a step back, and stares at the narrator, taking in every detail. Their eyes narrow.

The reader said, “And if I asked you not to be okay with it? If I asked you to be upset?”

The narrator’s expression began to shift, preparing for the next casting. “If that’s what you wish. Say the word.”

“...Change?”

Something clicked into place. The narrator launched himself into his role. 

“Reader, please! You can’t go. Don’t do this to me, don’t leave me behind! I’ll be anything you need me to be, I’ll do anything you ask!”

“Stop!” the reader’s voice rang out clear, like a bell. And just like that, the narrator was back in a neutral state.

The reader considered this. “What if… What if I wanted you to be romantic?”

“You know the word already.”

“...Change.”

A different characterization slid into place, and suddenly the narrator stared dreamily at the reader.

“Oh, darling… I am going to regret our parting, but I suppose it’s inevitable. How about a final, farewell kiss?”

The reader stared at the narrator incredulously. “What else can I ask for?” This also seemed to release the narrator from his current role.

“Whatever you’d like.” 

“Uh… Antagonistic?” 

The narrator stared very seriously at the reader. “Are you sure? That’s not one my current source does very often. I asked him why once, and he said it makes him sad.”

The reader nodded, spoke the word, and the narrator shifted again.

“Do you actually think you’re the one in control here? Don’t you understand your place in my world? Well, you’ll learn soon enough.”

“And… scene!” The reader said. The narrator relaxed, and the built up tension leaked out of him.     

The reader’s eyebrows were raised. “Your range is incredible.” 

He chuckled. “You’ve hardly seen anything. But I hope you see the point I’m driving at. I am, and have always been, at my audience’s disposal.” 

The circle of darkness was starting to grow around them. The reader pushed back mentally, and it retreated. For now. 

“So, reader, I suppose the question is, what do you need me to be for you to get through this?”

The reader was still trying to hold back their emotions to the best of their ability. “Just-” They took a deep, shuddering breath. “Right now, I need you to be kind. Can you manage that?”

“Of course.” The narrator’s expression shifted. “Of course I can be that for you.” The reader didn’t flinch away. There wasn’t a need to anymore.

“It’s odd, isn’t it?” the reader said. “You live in this form because I want you to, and you give me inspiration in return. I can’t work out who is giving who meaning.”

“Perhaps you don’t have to. Humans are complicated, It’s indicative of your species. Maybe a dynamic doesn’t have to be fully parsed out. We can just delight in the fact that we make each other happy, and let that be enough.”

“That’s… Oddly soothing. Thank you.” 

“Hmm?” he lets out a pleasant noise. “Are you admitting that I make you happy?” 

The reader snorted.

“Yeah. I- Do you think I get this emotional over just anyone? Not all goodbyes are equally hard. I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it. You make me happy. Continually. My life has been made better by your place in it.”

The narrator sighs contentedly. 

The reader rolls their eyes. “You’re so ridiculous sometimes.” The affection is clear in their voice.

“Only because I’m written that way.” 

The wind begins to howl. The darkness is growing. They are both surrounded by void.

“We’re running out of time.” The reader says, though there’s no need to explain it. They both know what’s about to happen. 

The narrator clasps the reader on the shoulder. “Reader, it’s imperative that you listen to me. This form is dying. It has been for a while now. We both knew that what we had wasn’t going to last forever. You knew from the start, and it didn’t take long for me to catch on as well. But if you need me-”

He was starting to disintegrate. It was slow, working from his feet up.

“Focus, reader. Focus on my voice, not what’s coming next. If you ever need me, I’ll be there. You and I can go on another adventure any time you want. You can look up stories about me, write one of your own, find fan art or create it yourself.”

His legs were gone, but he was still managing to stand. 

“It doesn’t matter when, it doesn’t matter where. If you call for me, I'll answer. Our story doesn’t have to end just because we’re both going our separate ways. You can pick it up later, or get someone else to continue it for you. Do you understand?”

The reader nodded, trying very hard to not look at the narrator’s torso, which was unraveling.

“This version of me is about to disappear- however- there are thousands of others. Mourn if you must, but don’t forget that I’m not really dead.” He lets out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad I got all that out before I left. Now, all that’s left to do is… To stop moving.”

The reader felt a surge of panic, of needing to say what was on their heart before it was too late. “Before you go, I need you to know that I didn’t regret a single moment spending time with you.”

The narrator’s smile was radiant, even as it was being eaten at by the darkness. “F-funny, I feel the s-same way.” His voice was straining now, glitching out and filled with static. “O-one last great a-adventure. What do you say, friend?”

“Yes, of course.” The reader said.

“B-being able to do this for you, t-to c-complete my purpose… It’s q-quite rich, really. Reader- I t-think I feel… Happy. I a-actually feel h-happy!” His last laugh was caught by the wind and disappeared before he could finish it. 

He was gone. The reader took a deep breath. The writer took a deep breath. 

Everyone had found the freedom they had been looking for. 

…

Then the ground began to shake. The world shifted, changed, twisted, and suddenly the void was being pushed back again. Where the narrator had been standing a few moments ago, there was a tiny sapling. The reader stared at it in shock.

It glowed a pure white. Roots spread rapidly, digging into the earth. It grew at an alarming pace. The tree unfurled its branches rapidly, each one standing tall and strong. It wasn't made of wood at all. It was made of crystal. Each diamond shaped leaf was a different image. The reader did their best to take in the new information.

Stories- hundreds of them, thousands maybe, were playing out like a film reel. 

And the reader could see. All the different possibilities, all the potential of a character- 

Different genres, plotlines, characterizations- the millions of different interpretations of the narrator that existed. He was a shadow, an angel, a computer, human, nonhuman, everything, anything- 

The reader saw it all. 

There was no change without transformation.

There was no death without some form of rebirth.

The tree moved, lowering one of its branches to the reader’s height. A pair of gardening shears lay at its base.

“It’s quite alright.” The tree said. “I’d like for you to take a few cuttings, and plant them in your own mind. They’ll grow, and a part of me will continue to live on. Only if you want to, of course.”

The reader hesitated. “The writer…”

“The writer doesn’t mind. He’s finished his current task, and he’s about to enter a hibernation period of sorts. But… I’ll let you in on a little secret, shall I? A small bit of confidential information between friends: He took a few branches to plant in his garden. Now, he made it very clear to me that he was taking an extended break. It was a bit laughable, to be honest.” 

He paused as he realized how bad that might sound.

“Not- I mean, I didn’t laugh at him, of course. The poor man looked very worn out. But I found it rather amusing because I am not his keeper. We aren’t beholden to each other in any way. He is not obligated to write for me at all, though he often gets caught up in believing he does. But he still genuinely wants to. I suppose we both struggle with letting things go, after all.”

There are no visible facial expressions on the tree, but you get the impression that the tree is grinning.

“He’s quite irritated by the whole thing, actually. I am, quite possibly, the greatest comfort character he’s ever had. He isn’t done with me, and I’m certainly not done with him. Neither of us are keen to leave the other. Clearly, I am worthy of such a dedicated-”

He’s rambling. He knows he is. He clears his throat, despite not having one anymore, and gets back on track.

“The point being, that he may well come back eventually. As for you, You’re welcome to take part of me with you and reshape it to your own desires, and you’re just as welcome to not do so. The choice has always been yours.”

He waited for the reader to come to a decision on what to do. 

He waited for a very long time.

You made your choice- 

“…And the story continues.”

The end is never the end, really.

It’s just the beginning of something else. 

[wincore]

romeo roulette | jung yoonoh

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader

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

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

words: 21.2k

warnings: language

song recs: playlist here !

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

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

Jung Yoonoh. Get your act together.

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

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

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

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

This whole charade dates its beginning to a week ago. 

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

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

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

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

“And I get what out of this?”

“Me? Temporarily, that is.”

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

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

“Wait!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll ask Doyoung if you say no.”

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

“I really will ask him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

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

“On one condition.”

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

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

“No way.”

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

You stare at him, weighing the odds. 

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

Jaehyun shrugs.

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

You mutter the last part.

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

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

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

“We have an agreement,” he repeats.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You should." You glare at her.

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

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

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

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

"Yeah," Sicheng mutters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Literally what I just said," Soojin says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sigh. “Man, I feel bad for him.”

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

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

You gasp. “Is it me? It’s me, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise an eyebrow. “So?”

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

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

“Hey. Professional,” Soojin warns.

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

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

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

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

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

“Shh. What if they hear us?”

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

You huff, crossing your arms. “Still…”

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

“Your acting was shit though,” you snipe.

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you headed to?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, the sweet summer child that Dongmin is.

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

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

“—Around ten minutes left.”

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

“That sounds like a load of—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggle. "Alright, handsome."

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

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

“What do you mean, baby?”

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

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

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

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

“You think you’re so—”

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

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

“Don’t say a word, Yoonoh.”

“Ooh, you’re saying my name now.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“I find it plenty funny.”

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

“Mhm.”

“Don’t look so smug.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You roll your eyes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you mutter.

He raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

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

He laughs. “What are we, in college?”

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

“Wrong,” he emphasizes, face leaning closer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun looks down. “Ginseng extract.”

“Oh, the gift pack?” Doyoung asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The two of you look at each other.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh? CEO? I’m sorry?” you manage. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Dammit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I charge by the hour.” He smiles.

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, what? I didn’t catch that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, yes or no?”

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

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

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

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

“No,” he says with clear emphasis. 

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

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

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

Jaehyun shakes his head, smiling through his hand. 

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

He sighs. “Maybe. Have you?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?”

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

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

“Definitely.”

He scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

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

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

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

“It’s not officially there.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re both the same thing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You saved me,” you say, smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile. “Thanks, Soojin.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You clearly liked it,” he mutters. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look at her, puzzled.

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

“Don’t give me that cr—”

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

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

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

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

“Of course it is,” you mutter. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There.”

“It’s hot in here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He does?”

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

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

“Hm. Funny coincidence.”

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

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

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

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

“For what? Being perfect and successful?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m so sorry!”

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?”

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

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

“Sorry,” he responds quietly. 

There’s a pause.

“Did you just kiss me right now?”

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

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

“What are you implying?” 

“You wanted to kiss me.”

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe it won’t.

"Never heard that before."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, not exac—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life strikes again with its poorly timed irony.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just stick out your tongue at him subtly.

“I told you we’d win,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, me too,” Jaehyun agrees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun pauses before humming in realization.

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

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

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

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

“Too?”

“Shut up.”

There’s a beat of silence. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think people in love are always brave.”

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

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

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

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

“Sicheng rubbed off on me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. "So?"

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

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

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

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

"Everyone needs mints, Jaehyun. Especially men."

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

"Have this mint or else."

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

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

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

"By me, right?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh. You might be right about that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“So I’m right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What do lovers do anyway?

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

You don’t mind it one bit.

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

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

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

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

You let out another huff of complaint.

"Does everything have to be heart-shaped?"

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

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

You don’t really care if you look crazy to him right now; he’s already seen the worse parts of you. You’re just so annoyed at all this red and pink that was delivered. Aren’t cafes supposed to stick with that beige-cream palette? 

While you contemplate, Jaehyun tears the little sugar packet and attempts to open the lid of the cup at the same time, your blood pressure rising at the sight because you were half sure he’d spill the drink. After much difficulty, he shakes the packet trying to get just enough sugar but of course, like the clumsy oaf he is, he misses almost entirely, spilling sugar over his coffee table. It’s oddly endearing but that’s a thought you’ll keep to yourself.

He turns to you with a sheepish grin and you give him a look of distaste.

“You are a sorry excuse of a person, Jaehyun.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t mess this up.”

You turn to look him in the eyes, the honey shade alluring under warm apartment lights. They really are pretty. 

“I, and every other sane human being, would not mess up adding sugar to a cup of coffee.”

“You faltered for a moment there.”

That was not the reason you faltered. You roll your eyes and look away, taking a sip of your drink and sighing at the taste.

“How do you even like Americanos? Don’t you like a bit of cream and sweetness?”

 “I don’t really care for bitterness,” he answers.

“Wow, you must be a masochist.”

“And it’s quite obvious you’re a sadist.”

You snicker. “That makes us quite the pair.”

“I would like that sentence in a non-BDSM context, thank you.”

Jaehyun turns on the TV and the Netflix logo animation pops up. You raise an eyebrow at his ‘Continue Watching’ list, eyeing Bridegerton and Sweet Home, and wondering if he could be any more of an enigma. You can’t possibly figure him out at this point. You groan when he picks a title.

“Ugh. Do we have to watch a romantic comedy?”

“What? They’re funny. And I thought you liked those 2000’s movies.”

You believed in unicorns and sock goblins and love back then too. These days, you hate to see other people in love, especially when it’s fake. The movies you loved are now the movies you hate. The couples you eyed with delight at parks and cafes are now the bane of your existence. In fact, you’d go as far as to say that you enjoy the digital fireworks from a couple having a massive online breakup. Things falling apart are entertaining when it’s not happening to you.

You purse your lips. Can't you see other people happy without wanting to tear it down for yourself?

“Fine. But I’ll pick the 2000’s romcom.”

Jaehyun shrugs and hands over the remote. You see Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds on the poster and click on it immediately. The Proposal has a good enough comedy to romance ratio, in your opinion.

“I’m kind of surprised you came,” he says quietly.

“Why?” You raise an eyebrow. “Is it because of the suggestive nature of visiting someone’s apartment on Valentine’s day? Did you think we’d be doing something… more fun?”

You lean in and bat your eyelashes suggestively, although you’re clearly joking.

“I think you should know better than to get mouthy with me,” he answers as he leans in further, making your heartbeat hike at the proximity. Maybe he’s figured you out. Wouldn’t it be so nice to figure each other out at the same time—like puzzle pieces fitting together?

You move away from him. “Well, it’s not like I can go anywhere else. And I didn’t want to stay in my own apartment.”

“Maybe you enjoy my company?”

“Look, I would be sipping my coffee at a perfectly aesthetic cafe if it weren’t Valentine’s day.”

He raises an eyebrow at your nonsensical declaration and you sigh, trying to explain yourself.

“Cafes just terrorize the single folk on Valentine’s day. You should always go with Netflix,” you say.

“And chill?”

“Do you even know what that means?”

“As I’ve told you so many times, I am not stupid.”

You inhale, an idea presenting itself.  

“Hey, since we’re technically a couple, shouldn’t you be sharing your Netflix password with me?” you ask, pressing your lips into your cutest smile.

“No.”

“You’re so stingy,” you mutter. It was worth a shot.

Jaehyun laughs, your hand reaching out to poke his dimples but you stop yourself. You weren’t supposed to get this comfortable. This wasn’t your place to be. Lost in thought, the moving screen leaves you unfazed and you can’t look at him anymore. However, Jaehyun reaches out right then and wipes at the space beside your lips, your focus lifting from the beginning scenes of The Proposal and latching onto Jaehyun’s lips.

There’s a pause, your head clearing itself of thoughts when you make eye contact with him. Soft hair, doe eyes, full lips and dimples—he’s so damn attractive, it hurts your existence. Does he have to be this close to you? You have mixed feelings about that look in his eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers suddenly.

“Yes,” you answer.

If you look from a rational point of view, you should not have said that. You should have said anything but that. But you don’t want to think right now. Jaehyun’s touch is warm over your skin as his hand rests under your jaw and the other on your waist.

You should not have said that. But you feel loved.

Somewhere along, you find yourself parting only to kiss again, the feeling of skin so delightful in a way you’ve never experienced. Your shirt hikes up and you see Jaehyun eye the little heart with the arrow—the sign you so despised with a gentle smile.

“It’s pretty,” he whispers.

It’s pretty but it isn’t his. He doesn’t have to look at you like that—he’s come a long way from nervous glances and now he’s the one making you nervous. Just say it isn’t love and it will be alright.

You part, sobering up for a moment and you disentangle your limbs to sit at the side of his bed.

“What’s- What’s wrong?” Jaehyun whispers.

You exhale.

“All my life, I wait and when it comes, it’s all wrong,” you say, staring at your lap. Self-pity is the most disgusting kind of pity to feel. You’re past crying at things like this. You’re past crying for an ounce of romance, every time you listen to a love song on the radio or look at an Instagram post of a couple or pass by lovers on the sidewalk content with each other. You don’t even have cats to return home to. Modern loneliness is wearing you down but you can’t believe in fairytales anymore.

He scoffs, smiling bitterly. “I don’t even know if this is worth losing my dignity over.”

“Jaehyun—”

“We can’t pretend anymore—I can’t pretend anymore,” Jaehyun exhales. “I want you enough to forget the system. Give me an answer. Please.”

You don’t mind forgetting the system right now. Jaehyun’s lips are always the right temperature; the warmth of his body seeps through his shirt as you press yourself to him in a hug. He’s perfect and right now, you want to believe he’s perfect for you—even if he isn’t, you want to believe it into existence.

You cup Jaehyun’s cheeks, unsaid emotion in his doe eyes, and kiss him. This time, you mean it with every ounce of your being. There’s no more flustering each other, just the hot flush of intimacy when you feel skin that doesn’t burn you. It’s just the right feeling. There’s no way this can be wrong. 

Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself? You wish the voice would pipe down. It’s a coward, fearing fate just as everyone else does. But you are better than that, and this feeling is too enjoyable to let go. You don’t want this to fade.

Just then, Dongmin’s face comes to mind and you think that maybe if you kiss someone else with all you have, you don’t have to think of your shortcomings ever again.

Jaehyun pulls apart and you miss the warmth.

“You’re not… You’re not thinking of me, are you?” he asks. 

You don’t answer, even if the silence is overwhelming.

“I’d rather not have you close your eyes and think of someone else when I’m in front of you.”

“I’m sorry” is all you can say.

“You can at least pretend to love me.” His voice is a hoarse whisper. “Could. It’s not like this was ever supposed to work out.”

You gulp, looking away. “Jaehyun, come on. That’s not like you. We were- we were just… having fun.”

He takes a deep breath. “It hurts to not be wanted by someone you want. You know that. So why are you doing this to me?”

Because misery likes company.

“I’m sorry.”

It seems the phrase you barely uttered when you were younger is tumbling out of your lips in a mixture of grief and pity. Perhaps it’s karma. Perhaps it’s fate. Perhaps it’s just the consequences of your mistakes.

Jaehyun parts his lips, a sigh departing. He leans in again, pushing away all of his thoughts. A little more hurt won't kill him tonight. How and when did you bring him down to his knees?

However, he's stopped by your hands against his shoulders, his lips hovering over yours.

"Let's stop," you say. "You're right."

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

“I don’t- I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.”

You wish you could be brave enough to burn the instruction pamphlet from destiny. But right now, you need to get away from Jaehyun, away from any more misery business.

“I’ll get going,” you say, gathering your stuff. 

Jaehyun hesitates but doesn’t stop you. He would never stop you, can’t stop so how could he even dream of stopping fate? This can never work out. It felt right in the moment but you don’t know anything more than that. You can’t close your eyes and pray everything disappears. No one else will solve your problems for you, you know that.

It’s time you start fixing the mess you made. You leave with a polite goodbye and hear a loud sigh behind you once the door is closed. Blinking away the urge to walk back in, you take long and quick strides to the elevator. You’re going to fix this.

Maybe if Lady Gaga’s ‘Poker Face’ wasn’t blasting at full volume at this stupid office party, you could be thinking a little straighter.

He was right. You can’t pretend anymore. There were thousands of ways this could have gone better. You didn’t have to pretend to be soulmates when you’re not. You could’ve discarded your belief in the whole system like Dongmin and Mijoo and dated someone out of spite. You didn’t have to drag Jaehyun into your sorry mess. You need to take out the nail you hammered into your own foot.

It’s the first time you’ve visited the rooftop restaurant from the company’s subsidiary chain of high-end restaurants but you imagined it would be bigger. It’s the news’ fault for making this place seem like a football field. However, you might be feeling that way because the distance between you and Jaehyun is suffocatingly small as is the distance with Dongmin. You don’t need to see Jaehyun tonight.

You don’t intend to make your confession a public affair and you certainly don’t believe in tack things like atonement. However, improvement begins with a step in the right direction. Maybe you’ll be a better person after this. Maybe you’ll still be as annoying and pushy as ever. You need to get it off your chest so you can proceed with the already tedious journey that comes with a soulmate rejection. You wonder why there’s so many man-made laws about soulmates when fate has made it complicated enough as it is. Love is the same as legalese when it comes to this system.

You flit about the crowds, smiling and greeting people and swerving away from Jaehyun every time he tries to approach you. You’re trying to make a good decision for once. He better not intrude. You’re wearing pink too, for the first time in a while: a satin shirt, pants and blazer set in dull pink.

“Dongmin,” you say, pulling him by the sleeve of his blue tux, and away from the rest of the HR team. “I have to show you something.”

“Hm? Show me?” He blinks at you. 

You get him to follow you to the inside the premises, stopping when you’re far into a 

“Uh?” Dongmin looks around before leaning in to whisper. “You’re not plotting to murder me, are you?”

You blink, and he laughs at you incredulously. “Why are you so serious?”

“I was lying,” you rush. “With Jaehyun. He’s not my soulmate. You are.”

Dongmin blinks in confusion. “Are… you joking? That was a weird joke but it could pass as funny—”

“Dongmin.”

You pull out your shirt from your pants, exposing the tattoo on your hip. It’s the little arrowed heart that has been plaguing you for years but now when you look at it, you feel no animosity. After all, it’s been through the same things you have. 

Dongmin’s face falls into stunned silence, eyes fixated on your waist.

“That’s- That’s my—what is this?”

Russian roulette is certainly not the same without a gun.

“I lied, Dongmin,” you answer, fixing your shirt back in. “I was so afraid of your rejection that I made an even larger fool of myself.”

His initial shock seems to have partly subsided.

“You… Why didn’t you tell me?” He looks momentarily hurt.

“You have Mijoo, Dongmin. I can’t ruin something like that.”

A love that doesn’t need fate to fix it.

Dongmin glances away in guilt and sighs, though the sound is croaky. This must be more than what he can take.

“I’m sorry,” he says, haltingly. “I hurt you, didn’t I? When I thought I was being brave, I hurt you instead.”

You smile bitterly. “We all hurt someone, Dongmin. I still have to fix that one for myself.”

He scans your face, lips trembling slightly as unspoken words die on them.

“We’ll tend to the legal stuff later, hm? No compensation. We can file a mutual rejection.”

“But—”

“Shh. I’m happy enough as coworkers and I get paid more than enough for this job. Might get a promotion soon too.”

You wink at him with an added finger gun, trying to play it cool. Despite everything, a weight feels lifted from your shoulders. Now that you are truly alone, you might as well embrace this growing loneliness crawling under your skin. Discomfort could be something you can get used to. 

When you get back to the warmly lit rooftop, the HR team looks at you curiously. You have the most self-destructive thought you’ve had in a while and tell yourself, you might as well if you've come this far. This is it. This is your social death. Honesty is the best policy, unfortunately.

“Dongmin and I have the same soulmate mark,” you announce. “We’re soulmates but we’ll sign a mutual rejection.”

Doyoung looks almost like he’ll faint and Soojin’s mouth is so wide open, you could practice throwing some mini basketballs in. This is your team—almost a second family, and it’s time you stop trying to hide yourself or disguise your feelings as something they’re not. They’ll get over it, as will you.

“J-Jaehyun?” Soojin looks to your side and you turn to find Jaehyun frowning.

“You could’ve discussed this with me,” he says, an odd sound of relief in his laugh. 

It hurts to look at him but you muster up your strength.

“I’m sorry,” you say, facing him. “I didn’t want to drag you into this hell with me.”

Into this loveless hell made for you.

“(name).”

It’s so painfully quiet in this corner; there are so many eyes on you and only the hurt taking shape in Jaehyun’s eyes knock some sense into you. 

“I’ll leave first,” you say, bowing as you take your leave.

You brisk up your pace and exit the venue as quickly as you can and into the building corridor.

Unfortunately for you, you recognize the pair of footsteps that follow you—both of them having their timings wrong. Boys don’t chase after the girl when she’s walking away. Boys should leave a girl alone when she feels like she’s about to cry.

You turn to face two men and groan internally. This is the worst possible situation—you’d rather crawl into a hole than look at either of them. The corporate light shines harshly on either of their faces but the look on them is so earnest, you want to close your eyes and scream. You don’t mind being alone. You were overstepping when you wished you weren’t.

“(name),” Dongmin starts. “I’m sorry it turned out this way. If you’d told me, we could have talked this out.”

A light scoff leaves Jaehyun and Dongmin purses his lips. It’s kind of funny watching both of their tall frames in hesitant postures and you cross your arms. You’re going to deal with this quickly like you always should have. If you’re dealing with fate, you need to have a clear head—and fortune doesn’t favour fools. Being with Jaehyun was nice but he is not yours. Dongmin may have been assigned to you but you’d rather not ruin someone’s relationship.

“What would we have talked about?” you ask. “Compensation charges? Apologies?”

You see a hint of positivity on Jaehyun’s face and turn to face him, frowning.

“And you. Don’t look so smug. You’re the reason I realized this crap. It hurts. Like hell.”

He opens his mouth but no words come when he’s far too taken aback. He can’t offer consolation now, not after everything. You knew this would happen. You would undoubtedly end up wishing you didn’t fall in love with him on the day you leave.

“(name). Listen to me,” Dongmin calls again, voice gentle.

Jaehyun sighs. “We’re both fucking this up, dude.”

Dongmin takes a sharp breath.

“You know, soulmates can be platonic,” he reasons, looking only at you. “People are made for each other differently and maybe you and I—”

“You’re just making her feel worse,” Jaehyun cuts him off.

“How do you know that?” Dongmin asks, finally turning to him. “Because you’ve spent a month or two with her? I’m her soulmate.”

“I think a month or two is much better than a stranger with the same damn birthmark.”

“Oh come on,” Dongmin scoffs. “The system exists for a reason.”

“I don’t give a shit about the system. The same as your girlfriend—oh, sorry, did you forget about her already?”

“It’s not like that.” Dongmin quietens. “We’ll figure something out.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. They’re worse than you are—honestly, you don’t know what you expected from the timid emotional maturity of men. Both of their polite facades have melted and you’re starting to miss their sweet-tempered work demeanour.

“Come with me,” Dongmin tells you.

He wraps his hand around your wrist and tugs, Jaehyun visibly tensing up at the gesture. He presses his tongue against his cheek in annoyance but refrains from doing anything rash. You feel sorry when you look at him.

“Dongmin,” you whisper. “Can we- can we have a moment?”

Dongmin nods in understanding and exits the hallway to cool off with a few splashes of water in the washroom.

“Would you go with him?” Jaehyun asks, jaw clenched. “An acquaintance as most? Are you willing to run into the arms of fate that you hated so much?”

He looks bitter and you can’t think of a sugar-coated response. You’ll just have to tell him how you feel.

“I need to sort things out, Jaehyun. This—”

You point from him to yourself.

“Couldn’t work out thanks to fate. Dongmin and I will never work out because he’s braver than I am. You know he’s doing all of that just so I don’t get hurt, right? He’s not suddenly in love with me.”

Jaehyun purses his lips, looking down to his feet. Is it so bad that he let jealousy get the best of his mouth? Envy isn’t so awful. He looks from your eyes to lips and wishes he were young enough to believe in fairytales.

“You don’t have to be brave,” he whispers. “You don’t have to be so brave to fall in love. You don’t have to be brave to stay with me.”

“We tried, Jaehyun. And we can’t cheat fate. That, at the very least, requires bravery.” 

You press your lips into a thin line. It hurts. It hurts so bad to look at him and face the consequences of this flawed design. It’s unfair. It’s unfair that you have to follow the rules even after trying your best to break them. 

“You wish you never met me, don’t you?” you whisper. “I made a mess.”

Before he responds, you bow in a short goodbye and walk towards the elevator. There’s no footsteps behind you, no Prince Charming. It’s just you and your high heels clacking against the cold marble as you head back to an empty home. You always thought freedom would feel different, that distance would give you perspective. It just feels awful when no one is around you at all. When you have no one to pick up morning calls from, receive texts from asking if you ate, spend time in peace without uttering a single word—are you free or are you lonely?

The rules state that the two of you are different. It is true. You are as different as love in real life and love in the movies; and neither of them have happy endings now.

You wish you drank some more last night if you were going to embarrass yourself like that. Thankfully, it’s the weekend and you have two more days to figure out how to face your coworkers. You frown when you think of Jaehyun. Were you wrong to tell him that you simply couldn’t choose him? What if fate is right and it falls apart? You stir your morning coffee, the will to drink it fading slowly. It’s already fallen apart—and it wasn’t fate who did that, it was you. Should you have taken his stupidly warm hands and asked him to follow you? You don’t understand how it works at all.

Centuries of questioning what love is, poking and prodding at it like a lab sample, and there’s still no perfect answer. Love is blind. Love is cruel. Love is a fever. Love is temporary insanity. Love is acceptance. Love will set you free. There’s just too many variations. You can never tell if fate is meant to make it easier or worse. 

No one questions you at the office and you're not sure if you’re glad or aggravated. Only Doyoung shoots you a pitiful look which you brush off and immediately get into work. Embarrassment is only real if you acknowledge it. However, every time Dongmin tries to talk to you, you ask for space and even alone in your thoughts, you don’t get it. They just have to drift to Jaehyun.

You wonder if what he said was true, that he wanted you enough to forget the system. It’s clearly ruined now. The spiral of thinking has you zoning out during work more often than not and even Doyoung ends up reprimanding you for your lack of focus. Sometimes you want to snap but other times, you’re just hopelessly reciting the events over and over in your head. This was supposed to happen, wasn’t it? You don’t even have the strength left in you to blame it all on Jaehyun.

You pace in the corridors after work, contemplating popping by the Marketing Department. What could go wrong? Sure, it was a little dramatic of you to leave like that but everything can be fixed, right? You groan. What you were supposed to be fixing, you made worse. Are your hands cursed or something? You shake your head, returning to your desk to gather your belongings and head home.

Unfortunately, the sight of Doyoung sitting in your chair alarms you and you stop a foot away. 

“If you’re going to reprimand me for watching cat videos instead of checking the employee records, I can assure you my efficiency is still top-notch.” 

“You’re—what? Never mind.” Doyoung shakes his head. “Can you give this ginseng pack to Jaehyun? I owe him.” 

Oh no. You know where this is going.

“You know I’m going to keep that for myself, right?” You make a face. “I’d rather die than face Jaehyun right now.”

Doyoung shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll be the one running to you. This is in case of an emergency.”

You give him a fake smile and Doyoung shakes his head. “Good to see you’re still great at pretending to be fine.”

You sigh. “Thanks for looking out for me, bossman.”

Doyoung blinks, hand covering his mouth when an audible gasp leaves him. “Woah. I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you thank me. But don’t call me bossman ever again.”

“Noted,” you say, taking your bag and leaving with a short goodbye. You’re lucky he lets you off work early, even if you never took it. Employees usually can’t leave until their superiors does and if you were a senior employee, you’d be giving your juniors quite the hell.

You seem to be good at concocting hellscapes. Perhaps, you should look for job openings in the underworld. One last thought of Jaehyun exits your head and you take the bus home, admiring the city you live in and the warmth of people and their relationships. You don’t feel jealous; you just bask in them for the time—be it a mother and her son or two bickering sisters or a lovely old couple. That’s how it’s meant to be, then. That’s how love works.

Jaehyun smacks his head against the sofa armrest for the fifteenth time in a row.

“Dude. You’re going to permanently ruin the fabric.” Sicheng says, eyes trained on his laptop screen.

“I should’ve said something more.” Jaehyun’s voice is so zombie-like, he thinks he should cast himself in the Train to Busan sequel as an extra.

“I’m glad I’m not you,” Sicheng mutters.

“Can you give me some sort of consolation, at least?”

“That’s not what I’m your friend for.”

Jaehyun sighs and resumes smacking the back of his head against the armrest. He really needs to figure this out. After all, he can’t really Google the solution to this.

“One thing doesn’t make sense,” Sicheng says, finally looking up from his screen. “Why do you have the same mark as (name)’s if you’re not soulmates?”

“You’re so incredibly—but adorably—stupid, Sicheng. She drew it in with a permanent marker. She kissed me too! It was sudden and weird but I didn’t mind it.

“Yikes.” Sicheng makes a face. “So… you didn’t take a shower for how long now?”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

“The ink hasn’t washed off. I heard you singing in the shower yesterday, how could you not have washed that off? Ugh. Don’t tell me you miss her.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen as he jumps up and rushes to the washroom. Looking into the mirror, the tattoo poking out from his T-shirt resembles yours a lot more than his. The arrow is still drawn in. Jaehyun’s shoulder slumps. He doesn’t know what he was expecting. Turning the tap and letting the water flow, he wets his hand and rubs at his collarbone to remove the arrow.

Except it doesn’t budge. His skin turns painfully red from the rubbing but the ink, which usually washes off in less than five minutes has no intention of leaving. Did you use a different brand of marker the last time? When was it anyway? 

Jaehyun breathes out, firming his resolve. He needs to be with you.

Sicheng blinks in surprise as Jaehyun grabs his car keys, not even bothering to change from an all-black getup of a T-shirt and jeans like some emo teenager, and shuts the front door behind him. Not even a ‘goodbye, I’m leaving!’

Sicheng sighs. Love makes people crazy. He’s not falling into that trap when his soulmate literally doesn’t exist, the same as his soulmark. It seems the contestants in this game are full of exceptions.

You hit your head against your pillow. To visit Jaehyun or not to. You haven’t left your bed since you woke up around seven in the morning, and now it’s ten. Your bedsheets are a mess because you’ve rolled around too much on them (in despair, not with someone unfortunately).

You need the quiet sometimes to let your mind rest, to let your heart rest. You needed time. But maybe it’s been long enough and now you’re just searching for excuses to hold on to your last shred of dignity.

You lift your head up and glare at the box of ginseng on your table. Should you? You reluctantly get up, feeling a sting of pain in your back for lying in that awkward position for so long. Right when you’ve put on your slippers, the doorbell rings and you groan. How did the package you stress-ordered last night arrive so early? These deliveries are getting faster and faster.

You walk to the front door and open it thoughtlessly, freezing up at the sight. Your first reaction is to cover yourself. You’re not exactly your best-looking version at the moment. Jaehyun’s dark circles almost match yours but he’s better dressed than you are—in a black T-shirt and jeans while you’re wearing a Gudetama pajama set.

“We’re not just friends,” he blurts. “We’re not soulmates but we’re not just friends.”

“Huh? Oh my god, this is the most embarrassing I’ve looked.”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows in a question look. 

“That’s not important! Look—”

He pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. His hair is so disheveled and messy, he barely even looks like the same well-maintained marketing employee you know. 

Jaehyun tugs at his T-shirt, pulling down to reveal his tattoo—albeit with your marker-drawn arrow through it. He does have a pretty well-built chest, you note before chiding yourself for getting distracted.

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you, uh, need help scrubbing it off or something?”

“No.” Jaehyun lets out a huff of exasperation. “It won’t wash off. If it’s what I think it is—”

“Miracles don’t happen to people like us, Jaehyun,” you say quietly.

He gulps. “I don’t know about miracles but… I just needed an excuse to see you, I guess.”

You look up, a rose blush over Jaehyun’s bare face, and run your finger over the tattoo, sighing at the warmth of his skin. Your hand travels up to his cheek, resting atop it while you muster enough courage to look Jaehyun in his chocolate brown eyes.

You pull away. This isn’t the time. You still have an internal crisis to sort out. Are you even deserving of love? It makes much more sense if the answer is no. 

However, Jaehyun pulls you in by the waist, his right palm warm against your cheek.

“I don’t care what anyone says.” He runs his thumb over your cheek in a painfully fond manner. “You’re worth more than the price I pay for this.”

He leans in and presses his lips to yours swiftly, your head clearing of thoughts almost immediately. It feels so right, you can feel the spark, the red thread around your skin, hear the bells. This kiss was far more perfect than it was supposed to be.

You part, gasping. Jaehyun blinks at you, breathing heavily.

“Kiss me again.”

Jaehyun does as told and you might just believe in miracles this way. With his hand around your waist and in your hair, his lips over yours and the low rumbling laughter that parts the two of you—you might just believe in miracles. You might just believe that love isn't something you deserve by earning.

“I like this,” Jaehyun comments. “I like the way this is.”

You press your finger to his lips. “I think you should shut up and kiss me some more.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I know you’re sexually repressed as of now, but that’s no reason to take advantage of me.”

You scowl, punching him on the shoulder and moving away from him.

“Come back,” he complains in a quiet voice.

“I am not going to do that.” You cross your arms.

“Come on,” he mutters, inching closer as you inch away, till your back hits the couch and you tumble backwards onto it, your legs on the headrest. Jaehyun laughs at your position, leaning in to keep his hands on either side of you, a doting look over him.

“Hey, did you know if I kicked my leg up, it would hit you in the balls?”

“Please don’t do that.”

You giggle, Jaehyun’s nose rubbing against yours in a bunny kiss. 

“Is your place usually this much of a mess?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. 

You sigh heavily. “I was having a bad day, okay? Or… a bad weekend.”

“Do you even have food?”

You look away, crossing your arms. Jaehyun sighs and shakes his head.

“We should go grocery shopping. How do you live like this?”

You scoff. “Oh, spare me the lecture. I’ve heard enough horror stories about your room from Sicheng. You can’t hide from me by sweeping your clothes and belongings into his room.”

“Snitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You can’t help the giggle that erupts from your mouth and you immediately cover it. Jaehyun smiles at you fondly and you look away, unable to bear that gaze of his.

“It really won’t wash off, by the way,” Jaehyun states, scratching at his collarbone.

You narrow your eyes, smacking his arms away to roll off the couch. Taking his wrist, you walk into your bathroom and turn the tap on. Something’s strange. But also strangely right.

“Look, I already tried—ow! Don’t rub that hard!”

You blink in confusion, trying again despite Jaehyun looking like his soul already left him. It doesn’t work. Your marker isn’t even that permanent. At least his regenerating skin cells should get rid of that arrow. Unless the ink was deep enough to pierce all the layers, as in a soulmark.

You gasp.

“You were right!”

“I told you s—”

"That's the point, isn't it?" you say, realization dawning as your eyes widen. "To see if people will question the system at all."

Jaehyun shrugs. “Maybe.”

"Oh, all those unhappy marriages that could have been saved," you say as you exhale. 

Jaehyun chuckles lightly. "I think that the point was, people can be happy without their soulmates. It's whoever you make one out of. Or I Googled too many articles on anti-soulmate propaganda."

You smile, leaning in to press a kiss against his cheek. Watching his ears turn bright red is the cherry on top.

“Okay, fake-boyfriend-turned-real-soulmate.” You give him a cheeky smile. “Did you rethink your decision about sharing that Netflix password with me? I get the girlfriend free pass, right? Right?”

“I didn’t even share it with my mother.”

You whack his arm, him possibly used to it by now, judging from his lack of response. 

“Idiot.” You cross your arms. “We can Netflix… and chill then. God, I can’t believe I said that.”

Jaehyun breaks into a chuckle. “You’re so pushy.”

 “And you like being pushed around, nerd.”

“Who said that?”

Jaehyun wraps his arms around you, spinning you so that your back hits the door. He leans in to kiss you again and you smack your palm over his pouted lips. You laugh at his face, his eyes brimming with confusion.

“You’re in my apartment. I make the rules here. Think twice before you start a game with me, Mister.”

His shoulders droop. “Fine. Can you at least let me kiss you four times a day?”

“Five times, if you ask.”

He laughs before leaning in again. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“You are one hell of a woman. Emphasis on hell.”

You laugh and grab his collar, pulling him in for the kiss that seals this deal.

You realize a few things in the moment: a) You don’t have to play roulette to find love, b) You don’t have to pick your poison to find love, and most importantly c) Love is right where you make something of it. Fate is still not in your good books but if it bends to you this way, you don’t mind at all. If Jaehyun kisses you like this every day, you don’t mind one bit. 

[lumosandnoxwriting]

No Returns or Exchanges - Fred Weasley

Title: No Returns or Exchanges Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: Fred and Y/N get to start their happily ever after A/N: this is for @mrs-fredweasley​. I usually do my requests in the order I receive them, but she asked for some fluff with Fred and the reader getting married and having kids for her birthday, and since she’s my birthday twin I couldn’t resist! Feedback is always welcome and requests are open!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“There you are, Mrs. Weasley,” Fred greets as he sneaks up behind Y/N and wraps his arms around her waist.

“I’m not Mrs. Weasley quite yet, Freddie,” Y/N teases as she turns around in his embrace. Her arms wind around Fred’s neck and she pulls him in for a brief kiss. “You’re about twelve hours too early.”

Fred starts to slowly sway them back and forth, humming quietly to the music drifting through the air from the large tent behind them. Fred and Y/N aren’t getting married until tomorrow, but Ginny, Y/N’s maid of honor, insisted on mixing some muggle wedding traditions in alongside the regular wizard ones. Tonight, had been what Ginny referred to as the rehearsal dinner, where the wedding party and their close family went through the ceremony that will take place tomorrow, before having a mini celebration together.

“Do I really have to go home without you?” Fred pouts. Another muggle tradition Ginny insisted on was that Y/N and Fred would not be allowed to see each other until Y/N was heading down the aisle towards him.

Y/N giggles and kisses Fred’s pout away. “I think it’ll be romantic. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, isn’t that what they say?” Y/N rolls her eyes playfully when Fred frowns at her. “Oh, come on, Freddie. It’s only one night apart.”

“When’s the last time we spent more than 1 hour apart outside of work?” Fred ask, looking down at Y/N expectantly. When she doesn’t answer he smiles. “Exactly. One night is going to feel like an eternity.”

“Okay so maybe it’ll be a bit hard,” Y/N concedes. “But after tomorrow we’ll get to spend every day for the rest of eternity together, that’s gotta be worth it, isn’t it? And have you forgotten that we’ll be spending the next two weeks completely alone together in a cabin in the woods.”

“How can I forget about that?” Fred muses. “Just me, you, and as little clothing as possible for two weeks straight. That’s the only kind of honeymoon I want.” Most of their friends and family were surprised that Fred and Y/N didn’t want to go on some adventurous honeymoon but wanted to just relax together in some secluded forest. But for them that seemed like the only option. It’s only been 13 months since the war ended, and after Fred’s near-death experience he and Y/N decided to take life slow for a bit.

“So that’s why you wanted to go somewhere secluded,” Y/N says, realization washing over her.

Fred laughs. “I may have had ulterior motives when I convinced you to book the cabin in the woods over the beach house.”

Y/N shakes her head fondly. “You’re a bit of a menace, you know that?”

“Yeah but I’m your menace. And you’re way past the return or exchange date so you’re stuck with me,” he jokes, leaning down to press a kiss to Y/N’s forehead.

“Oi, lover boy!” George calls from behind them. Y/N and Fred break apart so they can look at him. “Ginny says it’s time to go, and she’s already wacked me over the head once so get your arse over here before she does it again.”

“See you tomorrow?” Fred asks as he leans down to kiss Y/N briefly.

“Meet you at the altar,” she confirms with a smile.

-

“You sure you wanna marry my brother?” Ginny teases as they get ready to walk down the aisle. “Because I could cause a distraction if you wanna slip out the front door and run away.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and grabs the bouquet Ginny hands her.  “Ha, ha. Very funny, Gin.”

Ginny beams at her before taking her place in line. Y/N takes a deep breath as the music starts, silently regretting that she chose to not have her dad walk her down the aisle. A few months ago, she had bashed the archaic notion of someone giving her away to Fred as if she were a piece of property, but as nerves start to bubble in her stomach she wishes she had someone by her side to calm her down. Everyone in front of her starts to slowly head towards the alter, and she fixes her dress one last time before she follows behind Ginny.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” Fred whispers as she takes his hands at the altar. There are tears in his eyes, and a few leak down his cheeks. “You’re absolutely stunning.”

Y/N blushes, trying to blink away her own tears as to not ruin her makeup. “You clean up quite nice as well, Freddie.”

Fred smiles down at her, maintaining eye contact as the official from the ministry starts the ceremony. Fred squeezes Y/N’s hands tightly as he talks, only half paying attention to what he’s saying. His thoughts are completely consumed with Y/N and how breathtakingly beautiful she is. The dress she picked out compliments all of her best features, and the veil cascading down her shoulders makes her look like a goddess. Fred has imagined this day over a dozen times since he proposed last year, but everything he thought of pales in comparison to how beautiful Y/N looks right now.

“Can I have the rings?” the officiant asks, pulling Fred’s thoughts fully to the ceremony. George digs around in his pocket for a moment before handing the delicate silver rings to the man. He hands the smaller one to Fred. “Now it’s my understanding that the bride and groom have prepared their own vows?” When Fred and Y/N nod, he smiles and motions for Fred to start.

“Y/N, I’ve been enamored with you since I was 11 years old, when you made your cauldron blow up and covered Snape head to toe in the worst smelling goo I’ve ever encountered – and that’s saying something,” Fred pauses as everyone chuckles, and he starts to slide the ring down Y/N’s finger. “When you agreed to accompany me to Hogsmeade during third year I felt like the luckiest guy in the world and I still do. I was so nervous, I had no idea how I managed to convince the pretties girl in school to go out with me, and all these years later I have no idea how I convinced you to marry me. But like I said last night, there’s no returns or exchanges you’re stuck with me for good now.”

Fred slides the ring down Y/N’s finger until it meets her engagement ring. “You’ve stuck by me through every risk I’ve taken and every dumb idea that’s popped into my mind. You were one of the first people to support my dream of opening the joke shop with George, and you were there to support me every step of the way. Every late-night George and I had planning things out or developing products you were right there with me, usually you were asleep, but it was still nice to have you there. You were always the first person to volunteer to test out a product and you were always there for me to vent to when something didn’t work out. You pushed me to leave school early with George, and once you moved in with us you were always there to snuggle with me after a long day.”

Fred takes a deep breath and brings one of his hands up to wipe away the tears Y/N has started to shed. “You gave up so much of your life to be there for me after I was crushed by that wall. No matter how hard I tried to get you to go back to work or just leave the house in general. You’ve always shown me unconditional love and support, and that’s what I’m promising to show you for the rest of our lives. No matter how crazy or hard or scary life gets, I’ll be there by your side, loving you and helping you through it.”

By the time the officiant is pronouncing them husband and wife, both Fred and Y/N are openly crying, but as they share their first kiss as husband and wife, neither of them really cares.

-

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” Fred greets with a smile as Y/N pushes the door to his office open. He pushes away from his desk slightly and pats his lap.

“Me too, I hate throwing up,” Y/N responds, taking a seat on Fred’s lap. She settles in and presses a kiss to his cheek. “How’s work going today, husband?” she asks with a giggle. They’ve been married for just over two months, and it still gives Y/N butterflies every time she refers to Fred as her husband.

Fred rolls his eyes and grabs Y/N’s face so he can press a kiss to her lips. “It’s been quite busy today wife. The restock of the new whizbang line already sold out.” Fred settles his hands on Y/N’s hips and kisses her again. “What about you? What have you been getting up to on your day off?”

“I had breakfast with Ginny and Hermione. Did some shopping,” she says casually pointing towards the bags she dropped near the door. “Nothing too crazy or exciting.”

Fred’s eyes light up at the sight of the bags. “Shopping, hm? Did you happen to pick up a present for your lovely, adorable, adoring husband while you were out?” he asks hopefully.

“Maybe,” Y/N muses with a wink. “You’ll have to wait until after work to find out.” Y/N giggles as Fred frowns and she kisses him one last time before standing up.

“You’re such a tease,” he scolds as Y/N gathers the bags in her hand.

“I know.” She waves at Fred and blows him a kiss before heading back into the joke shop and upstairs to their flat. They’re still living with George for the time being as they save up for a house, and as Y/N places her shopping bags on the bed she starts to wonder if they’ll have to start looking for one sooner rather than later.

Y/N sticks her hand in one of the bags and fumbles around a bit, humming as her hands closes around a rectangular cardboard box. Her hand shakes slightly as she pulls the pregnancy test out and starts to familiarize herself with the instructions. While her and Fred have already come to the conclusion that they both want a house full of children someday, she never imagined that they may be starting their family so soon after their wedding.

“Now or never,” Y/N mutters to herself as she heads towards the bathroom. Y/N thought they had been careful while on their honeymoon, she knows there were a few times they had forgotten to use the contraceptive charm in the heat of the moment, but she figured it would be okay. However, when her period never came she began to suspect that they weren’t in fact okay, and the random nausea spells she’s been having for the past week seemed to only solidify that fact.

After she’s closed and locked the door behind her, Y/N does what she needs to do and sets the pregnancy test on the counter face down. “Who knew three minutes could feel like a lifetime?” she asks to no one as she watches the time go by on her watch. When the three minutes is finally up Y/N’s hand starts to shake again as she reaches for the stick. She shuts her eyes tightly as she flips it over, and after a few deep breaths she finally takes a peek.

Pregnant.

Y/N starts to cry as a whirlwind of emotions flow through her. On one hand she’s so overwhelmingly happy, being a mother is something she’s always wanted and to be doing it with Fred makes her heart burst with joy. But she can’t help but also feel an intense bout of worry flowing through her. She and Fred are only 21, and they haven’t even been married six months yet. Y/N knows that Fred wants to be a dad, but she can’t help but worry that he’ll think this is a bad thing and that it’s far too soon for them to become parents.

“Hey, love. You left one of your bags downstairs,” Fred calls out as he walks through the door.

Y/N furiously wipes away her tears and sticks the pregnancy test in the back pocket of her jeans. She takes a deep breath and opens the bathroom door, jumping slightly when she sees Fred. “You scared me, Freddie. I didn’t hear you come down the hall.”

Fred frowns at her. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?” When Y/N nods he gives her a look. “Were you throwing up again? You’re all pale, love. Are you sure we shouldn’t go see a muggle doctor or a healer or something?”

“I’m fine, love,” Y/N reassures, pushing past Fred. She starts to head down the hall when she feels Fred’s hand brush her ass. “What are you- oh,” she gasps, turning around to face Fred. He’s staring down at the pregnancy test in his hands. “Fred,” Y/N starts, not really sure what to say.

“Is this what I think it is?” Fred murmurs, looking up at Y/N. He grips the test in his hand tightly, tears starting to form in his eyes. “You’re pregnant?”

Y/N nods slowly as she bites her lip. “Yeah, I am.” Fred falls to his knees and brings Y/N close to him, shoving her shirt up a little. He starts to pepper kisses all over her warm skin, laughing as Y/N starts to giggle and squirm. “Fred! Fred stop that tickles!”

Fred presses one final kiss to her stomach before he stands up and kisses Y/N passionately. “I can’t believe you’re pregnant. I can’t believe we’re gonna have a baby.” Fred lets go of Y/N and starts to head towards the door. “I have to go tell George.”

“Freddie, wait,” Y/N calls with a laugh, chasing after him. She closes her hand around his wrist and pulls him back towards her. “You’re not mad? Or upset?”

Fred gives Y/N a look like she’s crazy. “Upset? Mad? Why would I be any of those things? You know I want to be a dad, love. We’ve talked about this before.”

“I dunno,” Y/N shrugs. “We’re young and we haven’t been married for that long. I just thought you wouldn’t think it’s the right time.”

Fred sighs and comes back towards Y/N, wrapping her up in a hug. “Love I don’t care about any of that. So, what we’ve only been married for two months? We’ve been as good as married since we were 18 when you first moved in here.” Fred presses a kiss to her forehead and smiles down at her. “Besides if we’re gonna have enough kids to fill a quidditch team we need to have them young, I can’t be an old man teaching my kids how to fly,” he jokes with a laugh.

“A whole quidditch team?” Y/N asks. When Fred gives her a wink Y/N rolls her eyes. “You’re lucky I love you Fred Weasley.”

-

“Fred what are you doing?” Y/N murmurs around a yawn. She started to wake up after a warm heavy weight rested on her stomach, and when she finally opened her eyes she saw Fred half hanging off the bed as he laid on his front. He’d pushed her shirt up and his head is hovering over the swell of her stomach while his hand strokes it lightly.

“Talking to the baby,” he responds, as if the answer is obvious.

Y/N shifts so she’s laying on her elbows so that she can look down at him properly. “At 2 am?”

Fred nods, pressing a light kiss to her skin. “I couldn’t sleep. And I read in that muggle book Hermione gave us last week that the baby can hear things now, so I figured I’d try it out.”

Y/N chuckles brings a hand up to rub her stomach. “Well I think the baby likes the sound of your voice, they’ve been moving like crazy.” Early last week Y/N had started to feel the baby move around inside of her. The first time it happened it scared the shit out of her, but now she’s started to miss it when the baby is still.

“Really?” Fred asks, his eyes lighting up. The movements Y/N has been feeling are still far too light for Fred to feel from the outside, but every night he spends hours rubbing her bump to try and feel something.

“Yeah, really. My ribs have become a punching bag.” Y/N smiles as the baby lands a few kicks to her stomach. “Here, gimme your hand.

Fred gives Y/N the hand that isn’t already on her stomach, watching as she places it on the side of her bump. She presses his hand into her skin, and he holds his breath, hoping to feel something. “Holy shit,” he gasps as the skin beneath his hand moves ever so slightly. Fred watches his hand in awe, smiling as it moves lightly with each movement. “That’s so cool.”

Y/N laughs and lets go of Fred’s hand so she can run her hand through his hair. “Innit? Though it does feel kinda weird that it’s like, coming from inside of me. But it’s nice. Like I’m never alone.”

“Hey little one,” Fred coos against Y/N’s skin, pressing down against her stomach as he feels the baby kick him in response. “I’m your Daddy, and I can’t wait to meet you.” Fred presses a kiss to Y/N’s skin and tears form in his eyes when he feels a small movement against his mouth. “I know your Mummy is doing such an amazing job of growing you in there but hurry up and get out of there so I can hold you and play with you and kiss you and cuddle you.” Fred tears his eyes away from Y/N’s bump so he can wink at his wife. “Plus, the sooner you get out of there the sooner Daddy can give you a sibling.”

Y/N scoffs and flicks Fred on the forehead. “Can we finish making this one before you start planning the next?”

“What? There’s no harm in planning ahead,” he teases, crawling up the bed to kiss Y/N sweetly.

-

“Hi there little bug,” Fred coos, gently rocking his newborn daughter. She’s only a few hours old, and her big eyes are bright as she blinks up at Fred. “I’m your Daddy and I love you so much Miss Ellie belly.”  Her actual name is Electra, but Fred has settled on calling her Ellie. Y/N had found her name in a baby book Hermione dropped off, and they both instantly fell in love with it. It means bright one, and after the dark times Fred and Y/N had survived in order to bring her into the world it seemed like the perfect fit.

Fred presses a kiss to her forehead, his heart melting as she makes a little noise. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispers. “Just don’t tell Mummy I said that.”

“Maybe you should check to make sure Mummy is asleep before you start spilling your secrets,” Y/N responds with a laugh.

Fred turns around, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, love. I figured you’d be a goner after the past few days you’ve had.”

Y/N moves over to make room for Fred and pats the space next to her. “I was only in labor for what 36 hours? That’s nothing,” she says with a laugh.

Fred comes over and sits next to Y/N, cradling Ellie tightly against his chest. “Don’t downplay yourself, love. You’re an absolute superhero.” He begrudgingly passes the baby back to Y/N and wraps an arm around her, his other hand coming up to grab Ellie’s foot through the blanket she’s wrapped up in. “We wouldn’t have our perfect little angel without you.”

Y/N blushes, looking over at Fred. “You helped a little bit. And I did nearly break your hand while I was pushing.”

“Aw, Y/N. You flatter me,” Fred teases. He presses a kiss to her temple and takes a moment to just watch as Y/N cuddles Ellie close. “I didn’t know I could love something this much,” Fred says quietly, crying slightly for the second time that day. The first had been when the doctor placed Ellie in his arms for the first time. “But every time I look at her my heart feels like it’s going to burst from how much love is in it.”

“I know, right? Every time I look at her I feel like crying. She’s just so tiny and perfect and ours.” Y/N leans down and presses a kiss to Ellie’s forehead. “I almost can’t believe that we made her. I don’t know how you and I could make something so beautiful.”

Fred gently grabs Y/N’s chin and turns her head so he can kiss her passionately. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world, so it is no surprise that our daughter is the most beautiful little girl in the world.” Fred kisses Y/N again briefly, before letting go of her chin so he can stroke Ellie’s cheek. “How are you feeling, love? Can I get you anything?”

“I’m alright, Freddie, thank you,” Y/N says softly, looking back down at their daughter. “I actually feel really good. To be honest your Mum scared me a bit, I thought it would be way worse.”

Fred chuckles, melting as Ellie’s eyes flutter closed. “I think Healers have revolutionized childbirth in the twenty years it’s been since she had a baby.” He bites his lip, nudging Y/N so she’ll look at him. “So now that this one’s out, when can we start trying for number 2?”

-

“Y/N love, I’m home!” Fred calls, stepping out of their fireplace and into the living room. He dusts the ashes from his suit, frowning when his wife doesn’t answer him immediately. But it turns into a smile when he spots his daughter peering at him over top of her play pen.

“Ellie,” he coos, heading over to her. “Look at you, standing up on your own!” he praises, lifting her out and up into the air. He tosses her up gently, laughing as she giggles madly at him. “Where’s your Mummy?” he asks, settling the infant on his hip. He presses a kiss to her forehead, his stomach turning to mush when she cuddles into his chest. “Let’s go find her then, hm?”

Fred starts to explore the house, grinning as Ellie babbles baby nonsense into his skin. He can’t believe how fast the past 8 months have gone, and while he loves watching Ellie grow and learn new things, he misses the baby stage already. “What do you think Mummy’s doing?” he asks, nodding along to her babbles as if she’s actually answering him. “I think she might be hiding to scare Daddy. What do you think?”

After checking their downstairs Fred starts to head up the stairs, his fingers lightly digging into Ellie’s belly to tickle her. She shrieks with laughter, and it sounds like music in Fred’s ears. “Daddy misses you while he’s at work, Miss Ellie belly. I think I should take you with me tomorrow. What do you think? Do you wanna spend the day with Daddy and Uncle George at the joke shop?”

Fred peppers kisses to Ellie’s head as he walks down the hallway. The door to his and Y/N’s room is shut and as he goes to grab the doorknob it swings open and Y/N practically runs into him.

“Oh, Fred,” she gasps, holding something to her chest. “I didn’t hear you come in, love.” Fred eyes her wearily as Y/N leans forward to tickle Ellie’s stomach with her free hand and press kisses to her chubby cheeks. “Is your Daddy home, Miss Ellie? Did Daddy finally come home to see you?” she asks, laughing as Ellie giggles at her.

“What’s in your hand?” Fred asks.

Y/N looks up at him, trying to seem as innocent as possible. “Nothing,” she responds, showing him the hand that was on Ellie’s stomach.

Fred rolls his eyes playfully. “The other one, gorgeous.”

“Oh, um,” Y/N blushes and looks away from Fred as she takes her hand from her chest and opens her palm. A positive pregnancy test is laying in her hand, staring up at Fred.

Fred gasps. “Another one?”

Y/N nods and snuggles into Fred’s chest as he pulls her into a hug with his free hand. “Dunno why you’re so surprised, you’ve been trying to get me pregnant since Ellie was born.”

Fred laughs and leans down to kiss Y/N deeply. “Guess it’s time to start thinking about the next one then,” he teases.

Y/N glares at Fred. “Are you sure it’s not too late to return or exchange you?”

“Sorry love, I burned the receipt long ago,” Fred responds with a laugh, kissing Y/N again.