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premiumbitch · 1 day ago

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♯ "MICHAEL JACKSON LEVEL TYPE OF FAME" THINGS TO SCRIPT .ᐟ

for @ilovecatfr <3

1. You Have an Unmistakable Signature Move Your movement is instantly recognizable worldwide. Whether it's a dance move, a signature pose, or a way you hold the mic, people imitate it relentlessly. Fans upload thousands of videos trying to perfect your move. It becomes a must-know move at parties and concerts. Even people who don’t listen to your music know and recognize your move. Other artists try to replicate it, but no one does it quite like you. It’s not just a move—it’s a global phenomenon.

2. Your Singing and Dancing Skills Are Superhuman Your voice is not just good—it’s flawless. Perfect pitch, unmatched control, and an instantly recognizable tone. Even your live performances sound better than studio recordings. People cry when they hear your voice in person. You can hit impossible notes effortlessly, and your range is legendary. Your dancing is equally untouchable: No one moves like you. Your style is unique, fluid, and impossible to imitate perfectly. When you dance, the world watches in awe. Videos of your performances get millions of views instantly, and dance schools create entire courses around your choreography. Your talent is so extraordinary that people question if you’re even human.

3. You Create an Album That Has No Skips—An Untouchable Masterpiece Every single track is a hit. Songs chart for years, not weeks. Even decades later, people still call it one of the greatest albums of all time. No one ever skips a track—every song is someone’s favorite. Other artists’ albums get compared to yours, but nothing ever surpasses it. Critics and fans alike say it redefined music itself.

4. You Can’t Step Outside Without Causing Chaos Whenever you appear in public, it’s an event. Airports shut down when you arrive. Hotels have to clear entire floors just for you. Even in disguise, fans somehow recognize you and start a frenzy. Police escorts become mandatory just to control the crowds. Even world leaders don’t get this kind of treatment.

5. Your Concerts Are Not Just Sold Out—They’re Historic Getting a ticket to your concert is nearly impossible. Fans camp outside for weeks, just for a chance to buy a ticket. Your shows shatter attendance records. Cities have to deploy security forces to control the massive street crowds. Fans faint, cry, and lose their voices from screaming too much. Every performance is an event that people talk about for generations.

6. Governments Have to Get Involved Because of You Your fame isn’t just big—it’s world-altering. Some countries ban you because your presence causes uncontrollable hysteria. Security measures are put in place just for your arrival. When you stay at a hotel, the entire street is blocked off due to the number of fans trying to see you. Your influence is too powerful to ignore.

7. Anything You Do Starts a Global Trend You don’t even have to try—everything you do becomes the new standard. If you wear a certain jacket, it sells out in seconds. A random phrase you say in an interview becomes a viral trend. People get tattoos of your lyrics, face, name, or even your signature. If you casually drink a certain brand of water, that company’s stock skyrockets overnight.

8. Your Fanbase is More Than a Fanbase—It’s a Cult Your fans worship you. They call themselves a special name and have their own rituals dedicated to you. They refuse to believe you’re just a regular person—many insist you’re a higher being. If anyone dares to criticize you, your fans destroy them online. You don’t just have fans—you have a movement.

9. Your Name Becomes Synonymous With Greatness People don’t just say you’re successful. Instead, they say: “That artist is the [Your Name] of their generation.” “This album is great, but it’s no [Your Name] album.” “No one will ever reach [Your Name]’s level.” Even future superstars are constantly compared to you—but deep down, everyone knows there’s only one you.

10. People Are Convinced You’re Not Human Your success is so unreal that conspiracy theories start spreading: Some claim you sold your soul for your talent. Others believe you’re a reality traveler (wink wink) because your skills seem unnatural & otherworldly . A few even insist you’re immortal and have lived multiple lives. Every time an old historical photo of someone who vaguely resembles you surfaces, the internet freaks out.

11. Every Celebrity Respects You—Even the Biggest Stars You are the celebrity of celebrities. The most famous people get starstruck meeting you. At award shows, even legends turn their heads in awe when you walk in. Other artists call you their inspiration, and they study your work religiously. Even those at the top know you’re on a different level.

12. You Have Personal Relationships with World Leaders and Billionaires You don’t just know celebrities—you sit at the table with kings. Presidents and royalty personally invite you to events. Billionaires seek your friendship because your influence is more powerful than money. A single tweet from you can shift entire economies, end wars or change the course of global events. Your voice carries more weight than any politician’s campaign.

13. The Whole World Mourns If You Ever Disappear If you take a break, people lose their minds. Conspiracy theories explode—some claim you’ve been kidnapped, others say you faked your disappearance. Fans refuse to accept that you’re taking a break. Global vigils are held as if you passed away. Your absence is felt worldwide.

14. People Start Studying You Like a Historical Figure Your impact is so massive that universities create courses about you. (script those classes are always entertaining & people love them) Professors analyze your work the way they study Shakespeare, Einstein, and Da Vinci. Museums create permanent exhibits dedicated to your career. Centuries from now, people will still be talking about you. You’re not just a legend—you’re a part of history itself.

15. Even When You’re Gone, You’re Everywhere Decades after your last release, your name still dominates culture. New generations constantly rediscover your work. Every Halloween, people still dress up as you. Your signature moves, outfits, and phrases never fade.

16. Your Name is a Global Currency Your name becomes synonymous with success and prestige. People pay extra to say they’ve worked with you, even if they had the smallest connection. Brands and companies pay astronomical sums just for the privilege of associating with you. Any collaboration or endorsement from you boosts a product's value overnight. People start naming their children after you, and entire industries are built around your image and legacy. Your name commands power, wealth, and influence.

17. You Are The Most Watched Person On Earth Every move you make, every word you say, is watched by billions. Every video of you gets billions of views within minutes. If you post a photo on social media, it breaks the internet. People watch you more closely than any political leader or world event. Paparazzi follow you relentlessly, but even they can’t capture a truly candid moment. Your life is a global spectacle—even in your most private moments. (unless you script this out)

18. Your Style Becomes Timeless Your fashion choices define generations. Every time you step outside, people rush to copy your style, even if it’s as simple as a pair of shoes. Designers create collections inspired by you, and the world follows your every trend. Your iconic look remains relevant across decades, with young and old alike wearing your signature outfits. Anything you wear becomes a cultural statement—no one has to say anything for the world to understand the power of your presence. You don’t just wear clothes—you create the language of fashion.

19. You Inspire New Art Movements and Genres Your creative output leads to the birth of entirely new genres, movements, and art forms. Artists from all fields—music, dance, visual arts—cite you as their main inspiration. Your work isn’t just consumed; it is analyzed, studied, and deconstructed by scholars. Dancers and performers perfect their craft by mimicking your work, creating entire new styles in the process. New genres of music evolve from your influence, shaping the sound of the future. You are a pioneer, a creator of culture.

20. Your Impact is Felt in Every Country on Earth Your influence transcends borders and languages. Your songs become national anthems in countries around the world. Leaders from different countries invite you to perform at events, knowing your presence will unite billions. Your performances are seen as acts of diplomacy—a symbol of peace and unity. You can travel to any country, and you’ll be welcomed like royalty—no matter where you go, the world knows you. Your influence knows no boundaries—it is felt everywhere.

21. You Own the Art of Reinvention You constantly evolve, leaving everyone in awe of your versatility. Your sound changes with every album, yet it always remains undeniably you. You effortlessly blend genres, making your music both ahead of its time and timeless. When you change your look, people rush to follow. Your constant reinvention becomes part of your allure, ensuring no one ever grows tired of you. Fans and critics alike never know what you’ll do next, keeping them on the edge of their seats. You define trends and change with them, always staying relevant.

22. You Are The Ultimate Innovator of Music Videos Your music videos set new standards, shaping the entire industry. Every video is a mini-movie—a groundbreaking visual that inspires filmmakers and directors. The production value of your music videos redefines what’s possible in the medium. Iconic scenes from your videos become legendary, with billions of fans recreating them. Even after decades, your music videos continue to be studied as examples of the pinnacle of cinematic art. You changed the way we view music.

23. You Are the Face of Global Charity and Change Your fame is leveraged for global good. You are the face of countless charity organizations, using your influence to raise billions for those in need. World-changing movements are launched under your guidance and advocacy. Governments and organizations seek your approval for their causes, knowing your voice will make a difference. You create initiatives that reshape the way the world views human rights, poverty, and equality. You are a beacon of hope, inspiring global change.

24. Your Social Media Influence is Unmatched You don’t just use social media—you dominate it. Every post is analyzed and discussed by billions around the world. If you tweet, the stock market reacts, and conversations in every industry stop to listen. You create viral trends by just existing—anything you post becomes news. You use social media to connect with fans directly, but even in your personal posts, there’s a sense of mystique and wonder that keeps people guessing. Social media doesn’t control you—you control it.

25. You Are Immortalized in Museums and Monuments Your legacy lives on through physical tributes. Statues of you are erected in major cities around the world. Museums dedicated to your life and work exist in every continent, showcasing everything from your personal items to never-before-seen footage. Artists and filmmakers continue to create projects based on your life, showcasing your impact and exploring your legacy. Tourists travel from all corners of the globe just to see these monuments, ensuring your memory lives on for centuries. You are immortalized in history, never to be forgotten.

26. Your Legacy Becomes Part of the School Curriculum Schools teach about you and your work, just like they do with historical figures. Your career and contributions to music, dance, and culture are studied in classrooms worldwide. Professors lecture on your artistry, dissecting every move you made to shape pop culture. Your albums are included in music courses, and your dance moves are taught in dance schools everywhere. Your story is told to every new generation as an example of greatness, and every student knows your name. You are studied as a symbol of excellence.

27. You Become a Spiritual Icon Your fans see you as more than an entertainer—they see you as a spiritual guide. Your lyrics become mantras, quoted and passed down as wisdom for the ages. Followers begin to create rituals, spiritual practices, and even beliefs centered around your life and teachings. Your name is invoked in moments of hope and inspiration, becoming a symbol of strength for people across the world.

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inuiiwonderland · 3 days ago

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Empire

Being crowned as empress of the Yuunkaedangon empire at the age of 17, you begin to start loving the new status and power. But it soon gets a bit boring and demanding the moment you turned 18. Harem? Heirs? Tf not!

Chapter 2

Words:1.0k

Fem reader but I don’t really say any she or her in this.

Being an empress has started to get a little boring now if you’re being honest. You frown at the stack of books and papers you had sitting on your desk. You turned to your attendant with a pout. He only shakes his head with a soft sigh.

“It’s the only way you can keep the higher ups from demanding an heir at the moment” He says calmly. You sigh as you pick up your writing equipment.

Bill passing….

BORING!

“I’m too young to have a child” You muttered. A little annoyed.

“Having kids isn’t all that bad, but I get why you’re upset”

You hum softly.

Now this isn’t you saying you hate kids or anything! You think they're alright, a little needy and loud but overall okay.

It’s just

You aren’t ready

“Ah I’ve had a talk with one of the higher ups earlier and he said that your consorts need ladies in waiting” You perk up.

“Ladies in waiting?”

“Mhm”

“I guess you’re right. Plus, it’ll be nice company for them since I’m not always gonna be there”

“Great. I’ll tell the higher ups tomorrow and have them assign them their own”

“Make sure they do background checks. Can’t have creeps and unworthy people working for my lovely consorts now can I?” You say. Your attendant nods.

“By the way, how’s your son?” His eyes lit up. He then goes on a rant about how his son is currently taking swordsman lessons and that he's getting better day by day. You smile.

At least now you can slack off just a little bit!

You watch as the last of the few ladies and men have been brought into the throne room. You eyed every single one carefully, some shivering under your watchful eyes as others seemed confident or uncomfortable.

“These are the best candidates the higher ups were able to gather last night” Your attendant, atsushi bows before calling out the first person up.

Both Riddle and Leona watch carefully at every single person that steps up. Listening closely to every single thing that comes out of their mouth along with their appearance, how they carry themselves, etc.

“Ace trappola! Young man from the Queendom Of Roses, good talents are cleaning, tending animals, and……card tricks?” The boy, “Ace” stifles a laugh but was given a stern look from his older brother which made him stop.

Riddle can already sense that he’s big trouble while Leona could really care less.

You get a good look at Ace.

He’s average height, fair skin, fluffy orange hair, and scarlet like eyes.

Not bad

And you won’t lie, he’s kinda funny.

You turn to riddle, wondering if he’ll take in trappola as a lady in waiting.

Riddle can already feel your stare on him. His cheeks turn a light pink at your stare.

“I’ll take him” He mutter softly. Small pout as he looks away. Leona scoffs.

“Excellent! Next”

After what seems to be hours (years even)

Your two lovely consorts have each of their own ladies in waiting.

Riddle: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Cater Diamond

Leona: Ruggie Bucchi, Jack Howl

Once everyone was satisfied with their choices, your attendant dismissed the ones who weren’t chosen. You walked down to greet the new ladies in waiting with a soft smile.

“It’s nice to have you young gentleman here” You say. The boys jumped before quickly bowing to you. You smile.

“Now you know that each of you will be staying with and taking care of my two precious consorts right?” Riddle turns a bright red as Leona looks away. You can tell your charms got to him by how he fiddles with the hem of his sleeves.

“I hope you guys take good care of them!……or else” You gave them a menacing look. The five boys gulp, before nodding their heads. Some of them held a look of determination while a few….looked a little scared.

Perfect!

“Great! I’ll have my lovely attendant escort you guys back to your pavilions” You gave each concubine a kiss on the cheek before making your way out. A happy go lucky look on your face as the ladies in waiting can only look at each other and shiver in fear.

What a scary empress!

It’s been two months since you’ve gotten your consorts their ladies in waiting.

And it’s going great so far!

….

…..

Kinda

Riddle has been having trouble with Ace lately- scratch that, he’s been having trouble with him since he entered the heartslabyul pavilion.

He’ll rant to you about him every time you stop by and visit. You’ll just massage his tensed shoulders and whisper sweet words in his ears until he stops and relaxes.

Other than Ace, the other two don’t trouble him at all! Very good care takers, cleaners, and cooks!

Leona on the other hand, doesn't have any trouble with his ladies in waiting.

They’re patient, quick and ready to do anything he needs, and very good cooks!

Happy wives, happy life!

Not wives yet

Now speaking of wives, you are currently reading a letter from a high end family that wants their son to be a part of your harem.

Ha….you haven’t gotten one of these in months

“The Ashengrotto Family” You mutter. You paced back and forth in your home office as you read the letter.

“He’s the son of a very high ranking merchant. His mother owns a very successful restaurant somewhere near the east side and his stepfather is an ex military official”

“Mm”

You haven’t taken anyone in after Leona. And your vassal keeps pestering you to grow your harem.

Weirdos

Maybe it’s finally time to take someone in again!

“Schedule a meeting for tomorrow in the afternoon” You yawn out, ready to end this busy day and go to bed.

“Already done”

“Huh?” You turn around to see your attendant wearing a prideful smile.

“I know you will agree!” He says.

Eh?!

“Are you serious?”

“Mhm! Now go get some sleep, Mrs. Ashengrotto is very excited to meet you tomorrow!”

“You’re killing me”

“No”

“Yes….”

“By the way, are those papers done yet?” He asks.You froze. He raises a thick brow as he patiently waits. You batted your lashes at him as you sway side to side.

“Y’knowwwww you’re right! I should get some much deserved sleep, don't you think?” You slowly walk closer to the exit, still making eye contact as your hand slowly inches closer to the door.

“Y/n” he says sternly.

“Bye bye good night!” And with that you make a quick escape.

“Y/n!”

atsushi only sighs before a small smile creeps up upon his face.

“Just like their old man”

Tag list!🏷️

@gl00muraaii @ghostlysyntaxed @zoukaposts @twistedcece @kisses2kanao @s7-evermore @c0ralrubi @owl778 @rubyninja1 @roseapov

If you want to join the Taglist, feel free to tell me!☺️

If you have any questions or anything about this AU don’t be afraid to ask!

ALSO TYSM FOR 1k FOLLOWERS!!! LOVE YOU ALL AND THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT!!!

Can you guys see how reader cares for them? 🫣

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gdinthehouseee · 2 days ago

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Fan Wars: KWON JI-YONG x READER

summary: after managing to keep your relationship with ji-yong private, fans catch wind of potential evidence and refuse to let it go, so he decides to give them something real to talk about...

word count: 1341

tags: smau; fluff, established relationship, sneaking around, making out in semi public

You had done everything right.

Separate exits. Baggy hoodies. Sunglasses even though the sun had long set. Taking the longest possible route back to the car. And yet, here you were, sitting on Ji-yong’s couch with your phone blowing up, as the internet lost its collective mind.

“Ohhh, they are going insane,” Ji-yong muttered, scrolling through Twitter with an amused smirk.

You buried your face in a pillow. “I don’t wanna know.”

“No, but you have to.” He turned his phone toward you. “They’re dissecting everything.”

You peeked over the pillow hesitantly… only to immediately regret it.

User: I swear I just saw GD at this tiny restaurant… and he wasn’t alone 👀👀

User: Okay. So. Evidence thread ��⬇️

This blurry ass video from tonight? Yeah. That’s DEFINITELY G-Dragon.

The person next to him? I compared their walking pattern to Y/N’s past airport footage. IT MATCHES.

In the video, Ji-yong laughs. I ran it through software that compares audio frequencies. IT’S HIM.

The hoodie he’s wearing? He posted it on Insta a month ago. Y/N had a suspiciously similar background in her IG story the SAME DAY.

User: IT’S REAL!!

YGFamily_Updates: 🚨 Some fans are convinced G-Dragon is dating Y/N after being spotted together tonight. Others refuse to believe it. What do you think?

User: that should’ve been me </3

User: He could do waayyy better…

User (reply): you think you're better than y/n?? you should pursue comedy

User: am I the only one who thought he was gay??

User: SHE'S NOT WUH LUH WUH???? NOOOOO </33

User: Whatever makes her happy ig

User: she settled for HIM????

User (reply): ppl like you are why they kept it a secret

User: i can’t be the only one who thinks they’re rlly cute together :(

User: now they really are the parents of kpop

User (reply): i wish they were my parents

User: their kids would be so cute!! They’d have the best life fr

User: y'all are insane...

As much as you want to hide, you can’t seem to take your eyes off his phone. Not even when he continues scrolling through the battle of the fandoms to stumble across some diehard fans trying to piece together more of the timeline.

That one interview from three years ago where Ji-yong was asked about his ideal type, and he gave a vague answer that suddenly sounds a lot like you. A music award show from an entire decade ago where he held the mic for you and fans swore he was looking at you differently. One year ago – a rehearsal clip where you and Ji-yong were standing next to each other, not even talking, but somehow that was now evidence.

“They’ve gone too deep,” you groaned, finally managing to tear your eyes away.

Ji-yong chuckled, continuing to scroll, while he wraps his other arm around you, pulling you into his side. “They always do.”

“How are you so calm about this?” You turned to face him fully. “Half of your fanbase is ready to burn me at the stake, and the other half thinks I’m too good for you.”

He smirked. “Sounds balanced to me.”

You shoved him. “Ji-yong.”

He caught your wrist easily, pulling you closer until you were practically nose-to-nose. His voice softened. “Jagiya, it’s okay.”

Your lips pressed into a tight line. “What if this doesn’t blow over? What if they keep digging?”

He exhaled, brushing his fingers through your hair. “Then let them.” His tone was steady, unwavering. “We don’t owe anyone an explanation. They can talk all they want—we know what’s real.”

You searched his eyes, finding nothing but warmth and certainty. The tension in your chest loosened, just a little.

“…You’re really not worried?”

He smiled. “No.”

You hesitated. “You’re not gonna post anything cryptic and make it worse?”

Ji-yong laughed. “Tempting. Very tempting. But no.” He kissed your forehead, lingering there for a second. “I just want you to feel safe.”

Your heart melted. You sighed, relaxing into him. “You’re really annoying, you know that?”

“And yet,” he murmured, his lips grazing yours, “here you are.”

Outside, the internet burned. Inside, you were home.

That was, at least, until your next event.

You knew from the moment you stepped onto that damn red carpet that tonight was going to be hell. The flashing cameras. The way certain interviewers perked up when they saw you. The way the entire internet had spent the past three weeks analyzing your every move, convinced that your so-called “secret relationship” with G-Dragon was either a definite reality or the greatest fan delusion of the decade. And now? Now you were both in the same room. At the same event. With hundreds of thousands of eyes watching.

You had never been more aware of your own facial expressions in your entire life. Every breath, every blink, every slight movement of your lips—someone was watching.

Across the room, Ji-yong sat with Seung-hyun, Youngbae, and Daesung. Not even they knew his real relationship status, while the man in question was completely unbothered, sipping his drink like he wasn’t currently the center of a full-blown fan war.

Seung-hyun tilted his glass toward him. “So… are you gonna acknowledge her tonight?”

Ji-yong smirked. “Who?”

Seung-hyun let out a slow breath. “God, you’re insufferable.”

Daesung, who had been watching you like a hawk for the past ten minutes, leaned in. “Okay, but why hasn’t she looked at you even once?”

Youngbae scoffed. “Because she knows people are watching.”

Seung-hyun nodded. “Which only makes it more suspicious.”

Ji-yong just swirled his drink, looking far too entertained. “You guys think too much,” he mused.

“And you think too little about how insane you make people.”

Ji-yong just smiled in response before pulling out his phone.

Slowly, carefully, you glance down.

A message. From Ji-yong.

You hesitate. You know cameras are on you right now. You know people will read into whatever expression you make. You know that someone will try to zoom in on your screen. But still…

You freeze. Before you can stop yourself, your eyes flicker across the room and meet his. It’s only for half a second. A single heartbeat. A blink. But it’s enough. Because he sees you and, to make it worse, he smirks.

After that split second of eye contact, Ji-yong tilts his head ever so slightly. A silent invitation.

You swallow. Pretending to check your phone, you slip out of your seat and disappear into the dimly lit hallway. As much as you really shouldn’t be doing this, you can’t help the way your heart’s pounding with excitement, fluttering at the thought of being sneaky like this. Then— A hand grabs your wrist. Ji-yong pulls you into a darkened corridor.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” you whisper, peeking up at him.

“And yet, here you are.” Before you can retort, his fingers graze your wrist, trailing up your arm slowly, deliberately. His touch leaves a trail of fire in its wake. “You look too good tonight,” he murmurs, voice husky.

“Ji-yong—”

“I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” he interrupts.

He moves you backwards, pressing you against the wall behind you, and his mouth finds yours. It’s slow at first; teasing, testing your patience. But your hands instinctively reach up to grab his jacket, pulling him closer, and his own restraint is thrown out the window. He loses it. His own hands slide over your waist, gripping, exploring, pressing you firmly against him. His lips move against yours with urgency, hunger.

“Missed you,” he mutters between kisses, trailing down your jaw, your neck. His breath is hot, his hands possessive.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, and he groans.

“You’re gonna get us caught,” you whisper breathlessly.

Ji-yong laughs softly, kissing you again. “Let them.”

You shudder. Your hands clutch his blazer, pulling him back up, crashing your lips to his in another heated kiss. This time, he’s the one who shudders. His hands roam lower, tighter, needier. And just as he presses even closer—

A loud camera shutter clicks.

taglist: @thanosscrossmain @maskedcrawford @mirahyun @riddlerloveb0t @onyxmango @sherrayyyyy @seunghyunwifey @mattsturniolosbabymama @redhoodedtoad @bettelaboure @cinnamonbear22 @xxxicddbr88 @infinetlyforgotten @babygirlewis @loveesiren @tulentiy @petersasteria @allthoughtsmindfull

#kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon x reader #kwon jiyong #gdragon #bigbang x reader #bigbang #kpop #kpop x reader #smau

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lilianne-tarot · 22 hours ago

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PICK A CARD: Your Next Cutest Moment With Your Crush ⋆.𐙚 ̊

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How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images above. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you—go ahead and read both!

If you enjoyed this reading, get your own personalized paid reading here!

My KO-FI link: HERE🫶🏻

MY MASTERLIST 🫶🏻

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˙⋆✮PILE I

Cards pulled: 8 of swords, 4 of wands, the moon, 8 of cups, 10 of wands

DAMN PILE 1. First of all, let me say this: you are not expecting this moment to be as soft and emotionally charged as it’s gonna be. Like, this gives "oops I didn’t know you cared like that" energy. Baby, we’re starting with confusion, and overthinking from your side. You think you're stuck in the friend zone or on the outside of their world, but honey, you have no clue what’s simmering under the surface.

So, picture this: It’s a casual hangout—maybe a small get-together, birthday, or group thing (4 of Wands is like the party card, but lowkey, cozy vibes). There’s laughter, chatter, but you? You’re kind of in your head, unsure of where you stand. And that's when they notice. Oh yes. They clock that you’re feeling distant. And guess what? They do something about it. This moment becomes special because your crush sees you — like, really notices you. The 10 of Wands is screaming that they are carrying a lot too — probs crushing hard but holding it in because they think you wouldn’t be into them like that (plot twist: wrong). So here you both are, lowkey struggling under all these feelings you think the other one doesn’t have — until bam, the vibe shifts.

BABY. They are shooketh. Like, this person has been holding back so much again, 10 of Wands. They are Carrying all these feelings and not telling anyone (Relatable content). And in this moment, seeing you? It hits different. Their feelings are rising to the surface, even if they don’t confess right away. You’ll probably catch their eyes lingering a little too long, voice softer, body turned toward you like you’re the only person in the room. After? They’ll be thinking about this moment on repeat. Like, analyzing everything you said, everything. You’ll live rent-free in their mind, okay?

If we talk about how they’ll feel after that, then, Honestly? Shook but in a good way. Like, "Hold up, are we having a moment right now?" maybe pretending to be chill but internally screaming because finally, there’s proof that this connection is not one-sided. And here’s the kicker: You’ll feel lighter because finally, someone sees you beyond what you present to the world. To give you a hint, Maybe someone even mentions the moon? Also, I’m hearing soft, nostalgic songs — think "Until I Found You" by Stephen Sanchez or something giving "you’re my secret crush I didn’t know how to say it" vibes.

Okay babe, listen up: Don’t run from this moment. When they open up to you or give you that look, you know the look, lean into it. You don’t have to give in everything, but give them something back. Smile a little longer. Touch their arm when you respond, . Say something real like, "I didn’t think you noticed, but I’m glad you do." (i sound like a relationship coach right now😭) if you do this, BOOM door opened for more.An advice is, stop overthinking your worth in their eyes (I say this lovingly). You are so much more seen and adored than you realize. The moment will be so much better if you allow yourself to believe that.

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˙⋆✮PILE II

Cards Pulled: the world reversed, the star, 8 of pentacles, 7 of swords reversed, the devil

Ooooh okay, babe, pile 2 — let me just say, the energy coming off this spread is intense but kinda sexy, like that moment in a movie when two people accidentally brush hands, but you know it's not that accidental. So let’s dive in because this is tea you need to hear.

So first of all—The World reversed sitting next to The Star? BABY, this cute moment is about to hit you like unfinished business meets healing energy. I’m seeing a vibe where either you and your crush haven’t really gotten to that “real talk” moment yet OR there’s some tension under the surface — like, y’all are low-key circling each other but haven’t admitted that this connection is a little too charged to be just casual. And then bam, the moment happens. 8 of Pentacles is giving me “mundane but magical,” so imagine, you're both focused on something else, but in the middle of all that, something shifts. Maybe you’re working on a project, helping a friend, or just caught in conversation when suddenly, it gets weirdly deep. Like… you drop a vulnerable comment without realizing, and they catch it. 7 of Swords reversed says the mask slips — for both of you.

Now here is when The Devil enters the chat. And listen, when I say chemistry off the charts, I mean red flag, green flag, I-don’t-even-care-I-wanna-touch-you kind of tension. It’s giving lingering glances, leaning in a little too close, breath hitching in your throat kinda moment. Like, someone says something stupidly flirty (maybe joking to cover it up😶‍🌫️), but you both freeze because why does it feel like you're standing too close in a crowded room? What makes this moment special, though, is that mix of vulnerability and raw attraction. The Star softens The Devil’s intense vibe—so instead of this being some flirty joke you move past, it's gonna feel like "I see you for real" energy. And The World reversed says this is a long time coming. Y’all have been dancing around this for a hot minute, and finally, the tension snaps—but in a cute, sweet way that makes your heart flutter and leaves you questioning if that just happened.

Now here’s the fun part: how they feel during and after? Okay, babe, they're SHOOK. Like full-on rethinking their life choices shook. They didn’t mean to be that obvious, but 7 of Swords reversed says they can't hide it anymore—your vibe gets under their skin in a way they can't explain. And after? Obsessing. Low-key watching your socials, replaying what was said in their head, wondering if you picked up on their feelings. Meanwhile, you're out here also spiraling in the cutest way, like “Did they mean that touch? Was I imagining it? Why did I blush so hard?” Symbolic signs? Omg, Devil + Star combo tells me music is important. Either a song plays right as this moment happens, or you’ll hear a song that reminds you of that exact vibe afterward—like those songs that make you feel like you're the main character having a slow-burn love story. And also, I’m seeing mirrors or reflections—maybe you catch them staring at you through a window, or you glance at each other in a reflection and realize the eye contact is a little too intense.

Just be in the moment. If you wanna drop a little "Hmm, interesting..." smirk, do it. If you wanna linger a little longer in the conversation, do it. You’re safe to explore this tension. There might be aa shift in your dynamic where y’all go from casual/crushing to "oh, we’re really a thing, huh?" Even if it’s unspoken at first, trust me, you’ll both walk away from this moment knowing something changed.

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˙⋆✮ PILE III

Cards pulled: 9 of pentacles, 8 of wands, 3 of pentacles, 2 of pentacles, 6 of cups

Omg! my dear PILE 3 when I say your next cute moment with your crush is giving rom-com in real life, I’m not exaggerating. The way these cards are laid out, I swear it’s like watching the scene of a movie where the tension builds, something adorable (and chaotic) happens, and suddenly, you’re both realizing there’s something more here. And yes—so many pentacles—like HELLO? Stability, vibes.

So first off, HONEY, this isn't just a fleeting, "oops we bumped into each other at the coffee shop" type of moment. No no. With the 9 of Pentacles, 3 of Pentacles, and 2 of Pentacles, this moment is happening in a space where you're both comfortable but lowkey performing for each other, like a mutual friends’ gathering, a casual group project meet, or some type of shared task/event where you both gotta show up and work together. BUT—here’s the tea—the moment you two are in the same space, it's like everything starts moving fast, because of the 8 of Wands energy, and suddenly you're both matching each other’s energy, bantering, and doing the most to lowkey impress each other, while pretending you're totally chill.

it’s going to feel sweet and natural. Maybe you’ll bring up an inside joke from the past, or one of you will recall a cute memory you shared before—something that softens the whole moment and makes you both realize how comfortable you are together. Like imagine you’re laughing over some dumb joke only the two of you get, and suddenly there’s that pause—that eye contact where you’re both like, “Wait, why is my heart doing this?” Also, side note—there’s this energy of playful competition here, like maybe you're teasing each other, or working on something and "accidentally" brushing hands, you know? Very romantic tension building under casual vibes.

2 of Swords popping out from the deck when i was done pulling out the cards, tells me they’re gonna be a mess internally, but trying SO HARD to keep cool. Like, on the outside, they’ll be laughing and vibing, but on the inside? Full on omg why do I suddenly feel so into them? panic mode. And here’s where 8 of Wands comes in—this moment will hit them fast and hard, like they didn’t expect to feel this level of attraction or connection, and suddenly it’s just there. You’ll feel on top of the world, like "damn, I was cute today" energy. You'll notice them noticing you—like, actually noticing—and it’ll give you such a boost. But also, there will be a part of you that’s like, "Hmm, should I play this cool? Or should I risk showing I’m into them too?"—2 of Pentacles struggle—balancing that playful energy with your real feelings.

I see someone saying something about “balance” or “juggling” or even a song playing in the background that's all about realizing feelings for someone you’ve known for a while—think "You Belong With Me" vibes but less dramatic. Also, food might weirdly pop into this moment? Like casually offering each other snacks or talking about food. Idk why, but I’m seeing it.

This moment is a stepping stone—like, after this, your dynamic is gonna shift. Your crush won’t be able to unsee the way they felt around you. Expect them to be a lil' awkward in the days after, like trying to “figure out” why they suddenly feel so drawn to you. And babe, let them stew in it a bit—you’ve got the power here.

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Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog—it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! ♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not predict the future in a fixed way. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

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melanchoire · 2 days ago

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hiiii meya,

i love love LOVE ur work and I cant move on from dom!karina x sub!reader with oral fixation

Can we please get one more like that? ❤️

one more and this one is dedicated to you my dear friend~~

OKAY my favorite section on this account: karina and boobies because both are the things that girls love the most!! (check out my drabble about the reader with an oral fixation and my fic about it~ karina told me you all should read them.)

what if this time it’s karina who has an oral fixation? she doesn’t know when or how it started, but the only thing she is aware of and conscious of is the way she always has her gaze on your chest 😊 you tend to be so focused when talking that you never notice her intense gaze on your tits, maybe it’s partly because she hides it quite well, nodding slightly every now and then or responding to what you say to make it seem like she wants to have a conversation. she is listening to you! she is just focused on other things

and karina goes twice as crazy when you don't wear a bra 😵‍💫 when walking in the comforts of your home of course you would opt for a comfortable option, this is also an option that karina agrees with because she loves seeing the curve of your chest when a t–shirt fits snugly against your body…

until you notice her looks 😥 karina thinks she looks sneaky and stealthy, but seeing it from a different point of view and perspective of another person, she is literally staring at your tits, furrowing her eyebrows in concentration while lightly biting her lower lip...

you get her attention by calling her name and shoving her shoulder, making her flinch and blink repeatedly as she comes out of her trance

“karina, are you even listening to me?”

“mmh yeah.”

but she loves the stern, annoyed look you give her when you hear her tone, trying to hold back her smile as she notices how you were starting to get annoyed with her, another thing karina loved! getting dirty looks, purposely pissing you off just to watch you practically nail her just by looking at her 🥰

“c’monnn babe, relax a little.” and she is putting her hands on your hips, practically forcing you onto her lap while giving you an amused smile when she sees that you’re completely ignoring her…

“you’re an idiot.”

“i am now?” UGHH AND SHE TILT HER HEAD AS GRIN AGAIN???

“you’re staring at my tits like a pervert. not even a baby would be as obsessed as you.”

“aww, but i would love to be a baby so i could have your tits in my mouth.” and she does it!

now karina making you sit on her lap, letting you continue talking about whatever you were saying before, looking straight into your eyes through her eyelashes as her tongue circles your nipple and slowly her mouth surrounds it 😵‍💫 making you stop mid–sentence and gasp, thinking karina would say something about it, either a joke or a taunt, but no! she just hums a little, releasing your nipple from between her lips for a moment to say “you were saying? i’m listening.” in the most casual way as if she wasn’t making your head spin

but she is a bit of a tease too 😭 nibbling and sucking on your nipples harder than she should when you're deep in thought or mid–sentence, enjoying how an involuntary moan leaves your lips, feigning innocence when you look at her with annoyance and returning to sucking your tits with the tranquility she was having before

KARINA WITH A HAIR PULLING KINK? i honestly had an obsession with her when she used to have long, silky black hair during 2021, which makes me believe that she likes to feel hands on her locks, but karina with short hair gives me a somewhat similar vibe… SO it doesn’t matter if it’s long or short hair, karina loves to feel your hands pulling her hair to push her closer to your chest, demanding her attention

and karina won’t go to bed until she gets your nipples sensitive enough for you to cum just by having them played with! rest assured

#yu jimin #yu jimin x fem reader #yu jimin x reader #yu jimin smut #yoo jimin #yoo jimin x fem reader #yoo jimin x reader #yoo jimin smut #karina #karina x fem reader #karina x reader #karina smut #aespa #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #aespa smut

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banjo15 · 3 hours ago

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That’s a good point to be honest. The system definitely needs change, and I don’t think that’s gonna happen untill people elect more women. But I don’t think that’s gonna happen cause they’d take the least competent man over the most competent man to be honest.

Men put down women for being too “emotional” yet often call each other slurs over the internet whenever they lose a made-up game, even our leader (I’m American) is a fuck up who is too emotional in my opinion (lost the election and invaded the capital) yet I could never imagine a woman doing that.

Even then the system benefits men too much, why does every rapist have at least one person defending them?

I don’t believe in the death penalty but we should put these people down. Like dogs.

And outlawing porn would be good for society. And prostitution, I think the man should go to jail for doing that (idk how long) and pay a hefty fine (to the prostitute not to the state)

But that’s probably not gonna happen

And I honestly get why people can hate men, like 3 days ago I probably would’ve said something like “Well I don’t do shit like that what are you looking at me for?”

Prostitution is the oldest job for women to be honest. It shouldn’t exist. Women shouldn’t have to sell their bodies to get by, and even some misogynists would probably agree with me on the “prostitution should be illegal” take not for the same reasons a feminist would (gets rid of the dignity of the prostitute, viewed as rape (I can see why someone calls it that, it’s basically “suck my dick or starve” which is rapey to be honest.) and it puts the woman in danger of femicide sometimes. Even then I don’t think sleeping with a bunch of people should be a job because… how the hell do you form a union for said job? Women can be abused and treated like shit in the porn industry, there’s no “workers march” for prostitutes due to the job being seen as “disgusting” but we shouldn’t normalize prostitution.

I think it shouldn’t exist. It’s cruel to make someone so poor that they can’t eat unless they have sex. Even for gay pornstars, it’s cruel.

I hate how society doesn’t do much about pedos and rapists. Some even protect the people guilty of said crimes. I mean I’m not gonna say that “men can be raped/preyed on as a kid” because the majority of people who do that are (other men).

I mean I’ve talked with some of you and all of you have good points as to why you hate men. I probably got offended by “kill all men” cause I’m a man, but every time I see someone say something like that it’s next to a crime against humanity. Done by men.

I think that women should be treated as equals to men (if you don’t at least think THAT to be true [unless you think women should have some priveledges that men don’t then I agree] then honestly I don’t think you’re a good person.) and even then I feel like getting rid of the patriarchy, no matter how much it benefits women and takes away priveledge from men, will have some things good happen to the average everyday man. Women won’t start as many wars and if we have good diplomacy then we could focus on things like

Saving the environment

Space travel

Fixing the economy instead of getting tied up into useless trade wars

Even then I’m sorry if I came off as pathetic, even ignorant. I was honestly uneducated at the time as I’m only 15

Ngl I’m a man

I like interacting with radfems

I feel like you guys are chill when you’re not talking about “killing all men” but like, genuinely why is it my fault I was born a man? Like yeah I get most men are evil but I could be a bad person as a woman too😭😭😭

Most of your beliefs are chill though I fuck with women not getting oppressed and shit

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oh-phoenixx · 2 days ago

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"Boost" - Jegulus microfic @into-the-jeggyverse - 1074 words

James had never struggled much with his self-worth, his view of himself. But he had not realised until recently how dependent his pride was on other people’s opinions. So, when James was studying alone with Regulus, and the younger boy did nothing but insult him, he needed a little boost to his confidence.

With a Hogsmeade weekend coming up, James was going to ask someone to be his date, and who—besides Regulus—could say no to a face like his? Now, James hadn’t intended to do this in front of Regulus, it just worked out that way. He spotted Tracy in the library, and realised that she was a girl, at the very least.

“Hey, Tracy,” James called. “Wanna come to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

Tracy smiled at him and nodded. “Sure.”

James Potter was back in the game, ladies and gentlemen. When he looked back to Regulus, James saw that he was fuming, clutching his quill with a grip hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

“What? Did you want to ask her?” James scoffed.

“No,” Regulus muttered. “Shut up.”

“Wow, great comeback. I’m wounded, Reggie,” James mocked.

Regulus did not say another word for the majority of the study session, simply glaring at James occasionally. James didn’t know what his problem was. The only reason James was studying with Regulus was as a favour to Sirius. Regulus had asked for Sirius’s fifth-year notes, but Sirius had thrown all of his away and knew that James still had some. Out of the kindness of his heart, and his love for Sirius, James had offered to go over them with Regulus, as his handwriting was somewhat…illegible. Despite his generosity, Regulus did not seem at all grateful that James was giving up his time to be here.

“What the fuck does this even say?” Regulus muttered. “How can you possibly have handwriting this awful?”

“Sorry, Mr. I-Write-In-Cursive-Because-I’m-A-Pretentious-Git,” James grumbled. He took the page. “That clearly says unicorn blood!”

“How was I supposed to read that?” Regulus whisper-shouted. “The ink is smeared across the page!”

James frowned at the parchment. “Yeah, I reckon I wrote this one with my left hand.”

“Why would you do that?” Regulus questioned, eyes narrowed as if James was losing his mind.

“I’m ambidextrous,” James said with a grin, though he knew realistically it wasn’t a brag. He was ambidextrous in the sense that both hands were equally as shit.

Regulus just groaned and took back the parchment, continuing to try to decipher James’s handwriting, as he refused to just have it read to him, because ‘I’m not a toddler, Potter. I don’t need a bedtime story’.

On Monday evening, when the two next studied together, James felt somewhat uncomfortable. Strangely, it had nothing to do with Regulus, but with Tracy constantly looking over and smiling at him. James did not like to be this person, he hated being in this position, he hated when people liked him and he didn’t like them back. He felt guilty about leading them on and guilty about breaking it off or rejecting them. There was nothing wrong with Tracy; she was nice, funny, and smart. James wanted to like her back. But his mind seemed occupied, and he didn’t know why.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Regulus sighed. “You could just go if you’re so occupied.”

“Huh?”

“That girl is eye-fucking you,” Regulus mumbled, face hidden by his hand rubbing his forehead as he wrote.

“No, she’s not,” James muttered. “And I’m not interested, anyway.”

Regulus, for some reason, seemed to relax a little at this. They got back to work and James tried his best to ignore Tracy. But, on the way out of the library, Tracy stopped him to talk about the next time they could see each other.

James had a small, minor, tiny problem with wanting everyone to like him all the time. Sure, they were exceptions, like most of the Slytherins. He was a Gryffindor, of course they weren’t going to like him, it wasn’t anything personal. But he had a genuine and all-consuming fear of disappointing people. So, he did the most logical thing. He said: “Uh, sorry, I realised I’m, uh, gay.”

“Oh.” Tracy’s face fell, but she quickly put on a smile. “Good for you, James. Sorry for bothering you.”

As she walked away, Regulus raised his eyebrows. James winced. “I didn’t want to hurt her feelings!”

“You know if you ever date another girl she’ll realise you were lying,” Regulus pointed out.

“I wasn’t lying, per se, I was…obscuring half the truth,” James defended. “I’ll just have to find a good guy, then.”

“Too bad Lupin’s taken, I think he’s the only datable person in your entire friend group,” Regulus scoffed.

“Hey, I have very fuckable friends,” James protested, then grimaced. He had a strange instinct to protect all of his friends, though he wasn’t sure any would be happy to hear that he thought this, except maybe Sirius. “Ooo! You could pretend to-”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

“I could pretend to be your boyfriend?” Regulus asked, eyebrows raised. When James nodded, Regulus shook his head. “First of all, that’s an awful cliché. Second of all, fuck off.”

James groaned and followed after Regulus as he started to walk away. “Come on, you owe me one.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Regulus said.

Now, James didn’t want to get too arrogant or anything, but he was a very persuasive person. He was confident that he could get even Regulus Black, certified-grumpy-piece-of-shit, to listen to him. And, sure enough, after delivering a long and charming monologue about all of his good qualities (Regulus had called it pestering, but potato whatever), Regulus gave in.

So, that evening, Regulus and James walked into the Great Hall together. Regulus turned and left a chaste kiss on his cheek, and oh. Oh, this would be a problem. James stuttered out a goodbye, his face almost seeming to burn where Regulus’s lips had been.

“Bye, Jamie,” Regulus bid. Of course, James knew the nickname was just for show. But, fuck, that didn’t change the way his stomach flipped. He suddenly understood why they called them butterflies.

James sat down at his usual spot, right next to Sirius, face red and realising a lot of things at once.

“What the fuck was that?” Sirius hissed.

“I think I’m in love with your brother,” James answered dumbly.

#spreading my james is ambidextrous hc btw #marauders #marauders era #james potter #james fleamont potter #regulus black #regulus arcturus black #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #marauders microfic #jeggyverse microfic #microfic #starchaser microfic #james x regulus #sirius black

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sinful-lanterns · 3 days ago

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Since the Demon AU takes place in the 1800s and you are from a noble family, it is common for you to be invited to royal events as a representative for your now deceased family. Of course, this means you bring along an entourage of demon (and some angel) women to escort you to the party, just in case anyone tries any funny business with you. Everyone looks on in disbelief and slight(?) jealousy as you suddenly appear with a variety of beautiful/handsome women at your side, none of them distracted by the flirts of other aristocrats as they only have eyes for you.

When a jealous noble “trips” and tries to spill their drink on you, Demon! Rahu is quick to pull you away and shield you with her coat, glaring needles at the perpetrator. When a group of aristocratic ladies try to spread awful gossip about you, Demon! Bianca is clever enough to dig into some truly vile secrets about the ladies themselves, threatening to let it spill if they so dare talk dirty about you. When a drunken person tries to get a little too handsy with you, Demon! Coquelic orders Demons! Garofano and Sumire to “take care of them” and he is soon dragged out into the gardens, never to be seen again.

You are so well protected by this strange entourage of women that no one dares to bother you for the rest of the night. They seem almost…afraid now, seeing you as more than just a helpless woman and more like a threat. Of course, besides all the dark strings being pulled behind the scenes, you still want to enjoy your time at the party. Your family never let you attend these events for fear of you dishonoring them, but now you get all the fun to yourself. You turn to your loyal women who stand obediently by your side, waiting for your next command. You make a light joke on who you should slow dance with for your first time, but everyone seems to take it very seriously.

The air crackles with passive aggressiveness as each of the demon women glare at each other. Some are more subtle than others, but even Demons like Shalom and Langley can’t resist making a possessive gesture towards you. The Angels can only stand by and watch in confusion as to why everyone is taking this so seriously, but they try their best to de-escalate the petty arguments before a fight breaks out in front of the royals.

While everyone is busy arguing with each other over who should dance with you, you feel your hand being grasped in another, quietly dragging you away towards the center of the ballroom. It’s there that you realize it’s Angel! Kelvin who’s become bold enough to snag you for herself. Once the other demons and angels realize that you’re missing however, they all turn to see Kelvin slow-dancing with you in the center of the ballroom, all groaning and resorting to just standing on the sidelines to watch you enjoy your first ever slow dance <3

#⛓️ mbcc lovepost #demon au #ptn x reader #ptn women x reader #I can’t stop giving kelvin Ws #I’m sorry

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drdemonprince · 2 days ago

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At a dinner party, a woman I don’t know says “Sexuality is definitely a choice, I’m attracted to men but I don’t date them. Gender isn’t a choice though, I don’t get why anyone would choose to be a man. You’re hairy and horny all the time.” I’m the only person there on t, so it feels pointed. In my big kid brain I know that this is one person’s opinion, other people there might feel differently. But no one disagrees, so it feels like the group is fine with it. I think about saying something like “because it’s fun” or “idk I wanted to.” Not to change her mind but to move the group overton window or acknowledge that what she’s said applies to a person in the room. Didn’t want to talk over her or attack her or derail a conversation about men sucking so I said nothing. I’m open to the idea that I could have done something in the moment but I can’t think of something. How do you handle this responsibly?

I think that's a degree of overt transphobia that would make me personally want to yell and be bitchy or just really pointedly get up and leave. Your mileage may vary but I would be pissed at the woman, the guests, the host for subjecting me to that shit, and want nothing to do with that environment. The more assertively hopeful kind of approach would be cutting her off to say something like "I made that choice with my own body, and I don't think it's appropriate for you to be calling what people to decide to do with their own bodies gross." and then to leave if she continued.

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hongjoongspoetry · 2 days ago

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Thank you so much Esther!! 😭🩷🤧 *Hands you some tissues* I'm so happy you liked bad boy!jongho (especially knowing that he's your bias), he has easily become one of my favorite characters to write now and I'll definitely do more of him in the future!

God the idea of knowing your soulmate and who they are and knowing that in the eyes of the public, and perhaps yours as well, that they’re a bad person, someone others don’t like or have a negative viewpoint of must be hard. Especially if you still cannot help the feelings you have for them when you’re around them even when they behave badly or something. Sounds like such a hard situation to be in and our precious MC is going through just that😭😭

Definitely! Imagine you are fated to someone who is more or less a "bad" person, like what does one do in that situation? Ngl, I wished to dive deeper into that but considering it would go past our word limit for the event I wouldn't do it justice 😭 But I'm still happy you caught onto the indication of what our MC was dealing with!

Although can I say I’m living for bad boy!Jongho, it just does something for me like yes boy be a menace to society🤩 also I totally did not giggle at his introduction where he’s sitting behind his desk as MC questions him on accepting the invitation in her name��

This scene was actually inspired from his screen time in Crazy Form (where he's sitting in an office (?) with a gun and shit), all dressed up and looking expensive. I just had to include it, and also his charm! Despite being a menace, he still has girls swooning for him *cough* secretary Eunji *cough*.

JgsuvhccvugcdsuhadbcjadhvfaeibhfbkjaeC he’s so in love with her and she hasn’t noticed it yet😭😩 like he keeps dropping hints throughout the one shot with very subtle ways he’s acting and unfortunately our dear MC only thinks he’s acting that way because of the contract🥲

THE FUNNIEST THING IS WHEN YOU REALIZE HE KNOWS THEY ARE SOULMATE THIS ENTIRE TIME AND ISN'T EVEN ACTING- Like the man wants you, contract or no contract 😭🤭 Ugh, I love writing men who are simps and idk about you, but I feel like Jongho is the type of guy who would treat his partner to everything. I'm talking about spoiling them to the maaaaax.

I enjoyed so much the way you wrote her Mina, it was so nice to see a bit more of a firecracker of a character, like she doesn’t fully take most of his bullshit while also having moments where we see her worry or the conflicting feelings of you know being with your soulmate but also being in a contract where you’re fake dating each other. I can’t really blame her for accepting the contact because I’d probably done the same if I saw the payment whilst also hoping that perhaps this would bring us even closer as soulmates for it to click naturally.

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I think, at least for me, the biggest challenge is to write interesting MCs that aren't these typical I-take-no-crap characters. Becuase, in my opinion, those are the easiest to write. So, there's a moment where I always stop and wonder if my MCs are different or if they are just the same character in different universes lmao. It's' also something I want to get better at as I'm writing. To make my MCs different Shy, reserved, scared, introverts or extroverts, talkative, rude, mean, etc. I feel like in my series Puzzle Pieces, I'm way better at making the MCs diverse (obviously no one knows as only Mingi's story is out, but you will see when the time comes😭) And as for this MC, she was 100% right in signing that contract because it was a looooot of money they offered. It's even better when you realize that the two agents (who came with the contract) knew she was Jongho's soulmate and went to her on purpose with that sum of money 😭

I think some of my favorite moments are when you allow us to read how it all affects the, like the idea that thinking/speaking bad about your soulmate causes the bond to burn/hurt you is actually so cool! Don’t think I’ve ever seen that before in a soulmate au and I liked it so much because the idea that Jongho who seems to enjoy “tormenting” her also gets hurt and it quiet possibly being moments where he feels the need to leave to get some time alone, perhaps to even reflect if he went to far or not, just makes me feel things😩

OH!!! I love this! I'm a complete addict when it comes to soulmate aus. They are my favorite fanfic genre to read so best believe ive consumed a good amount of them 😭 And it is as you're saying, not many writers incorporate the soul in soulmate, at least not up to my standard. Yes, the characters are destined to be together, but what else is there to the soulmate connection? What makes them connected and in what way? That's why I decided, for Jongho and this MC, to have that type of bond, where they can kind of feel each other's emotions. Ugh, Esther I love the way your mind works because you literally catch onto everything I'm trying to convey with my writing! Yes, Jongho definitely went out for a smoke (in the middle of the charity event) to calm down after his childish behaviour and yes, him going from teasing to distant in seconds is also his way of trying to collect his thoughts and not feel too much of MC emotions. (It makes me wanna smash my head in knowing that they feel each other's emotions when they are being lovey-dovey, like in the ending scene)

I just adore all the small details you added in which Jongho comforts her, like the hand gently caressing hers, his hand on her hip as he guides her through the overwhelming crowd, even when he tries to stop Ms.Kang and her quiet rude questions🥺 [...] My reaction to Jongho giving her his jacket once she found him outside smoking. Like hello? I love it so much. Just the idea of Jongho covering you with his jacket so you won’t freeze your ass off! When’s it my turn?🧐

Jongho tries to be a bad boy so hard but at the end of the day, he's just a huge softie beneath that hard exterior especially when it comes to the MC. I will never let the "give-them-your-jacket-trope" die! It's the epitome of gentleman behaviour and I need it added in every piece of literature I write lmao 😭 It also further strengthens the image of Jongho not being a "bad" person.

Nah I would never get on a motorcycle ever like you are so right for calling them a death trap, I do not trust them at all!! And that’s coming from someone who’s grown up with both her parents driving said death traps😭 not Jongho laughing at her for being scared and holding on tight to him😭😭 also please I love their bantering so much, the way you wrote Jongho teasing her so often is so good I enjoyed it so much💓

That's criminal. I love motorcycles and I'm even planning on getting a license + bike when I have the money for it (plus I have to wait until I'm 24 but that's another thing lmao). Okay, but your parents are so cool, first your dad plays electric (I believe they were electric) guitars and now I find out both of your parents RIDE MOTORCYCLES??!!?!? So cool😭🌟I feel like its such a Jongho thing to-do, he definitely made the motorcycle go a lil too fast for her to cling onto him AHAHAHH I can just see his menacing smile, like look at these:

menace one menace two menace three

God this whole part after they got of the motorcycle is so beautifully written, the description and the way you wrote the dialogue just did it for me. Truly wonderful and such a delight to read.

THANK YOU AGAIN, omg you are spoiling me 🥹🥹 It's so nice to hear this though, because I really put a lot of effort into that whole last scene. I wanted the readers to really feel their emotions and vulnerability through the screen, especially Jongho's. For a guy who’d always been seen as tough and unapproachable, changing wasn’t going to be easy. But with the MC — his soulmate — there, I feel like he understood that she wouldn't judge him and he just decided to bet on it, be vulnerable and get his feelings hurt or be vulnerable and go home with the love of his life, you know?

You should have heard the noise I made when I read that part and everything that followed🫣 BUT YES HES CONFESSING FIRST🥰❤️ also my poor girlie getting to hear that while she thinks she’s been good at hiding it all Jongho has known since forever that they’re soulmates😩😭

HAHAHAHAHAHAH, I wish we got a live reaction to it (istg that mountain cat meme never makes me not laugh) AND YES HES CONFESSING FIRST, as I said previously, it's Jongho giving their relationship his all or nothing.

Those two lines and everything that followed after that was the like cherry on top as an ending for this story. Ughhhh the way they melt into each other, the kisses, just everything😚🤌💓 in fact I think I re-read the last part from them arriving at the beach like five times because I enjoyed it so much before I reblogged this amazing piece of work.

YOU READ IT FIVE TIMES?!??! 🫨😧🥹 THATS THE BEST THING IVE HEARD ALL DAY THANK YOU!! 🩷😭 I really don't know how to convey my gratitude beside saying thank you! Your words, this whole reblog, has really brightened my day (the meme reactions have aslo been highly appreciated, 10/10 laughs)

The tension, both realizing they want more than what they currently got because of the contract, both deciding to break the contract and start dating fully instead, the way you’ve written it all is so full of life and feels so pure in a way. Like I can’t help but feel that both in a way felt like this contract was the only way to be close with their soulmate while also both hating the contract wanting it to be real and then finally it reaches to the point where they confess💕😩

YES! BUT NEITHER WANTS TO GO AGAINST THE RULES (ESPECIALLY NOT THE MC) AND ARE JUST HOPING FOR SOMETHING TO CHANGE SO THEY CAN DATE-DATE!

Mina, truly thank you for writing and sharing this beautiful piece of work you’ve created. I could go on and on about all the little details you’ve added which gives so much life and depth but I’ve been rambling for a while now.

Oh, Esther, I should be thanking you for taking the time out of your day to read and reblog this fic with all of your thoughts! It really means a lot and it's been so fun to read your thought-process, especially when we share the same opinions and "theories" about the characters 🩷😭

Words can’t really describe how much I’ve enjoyed reading this story and I just think your passion and creativity is such a blessing to be allowed to read!

Yeah, no, you are going to make me cry. I'm going to write this down and keep it in my wallet to remember whenever im feeling sad or not finding the motivation to write 🥹🤧 Thank you once again Esther, you are a diamond and the sweetest atiny I know, and I'm so happy I can be your friend

Pretend You Love Me | Choi Jongho

🥂 Summary: Jongho, heir to Choi Clothes, and you are soulmates marked by each other’s names on your wrists since birth. Instead of a fairy-tale romance, you’re stuck in a fake dating contract to restore Jongho’s tarnished image created by scandals. As you navigate public events and play the part of a cute couple, the lines between fake and real blur together. Despite your undeniable chemistry, you refuse to take him seriously due to his reckless past. As the arrangement nears its end, you must confront the truth about your feelings and whether you can move beyond the contract.

🥂 Pairing(s): Badboy!Jongho x Student!Reader

🥂 Genres/Tropes: Soulmate AU, non-idol AU, fake dating AU, fluff, humour

🥂 Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), the MC goes by the lastname Jeong, Jongho is a rich kid, the MC not so, Jongho smokes and rides a motorcycle, light alcohol consumption, a lot of teasing, pet names (pretty girl, soulmate, sweetheart & Jjong), probably incorrect portrayal of CEOs and charity events (bare with me, i'm just a girl), some kissing

🥂 Wordcount: 9.0K

🥂 Author's Note: Click the image for a higher resolution (Tumblr, I hate you). This is my first time ever writing for Jongho and also the fastest I’ve finished a fic — just 4 days, to be exact! It was a lot of fun playing around with the soulmate idea and turning Jongho into a bad-boy-ish character. I hope you all enjoy the second fic of the Cherry Blossom March Event and feel brave enough to share your thoughts with me! I'm really curious to hear what you think and have to say :3

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Event taglist

To go out with people widely. It could mean all sorts of things. A person whose presence spreads widely. Someone who possesses the ability to form broad connections and reach far with their impact, whether it be through influence, relationships or personal qualities. To go out with people widely was the meaning behind the chosen hanja of the name Choi Jongho. The same name that was imprinted on your wrist since birth in black and reminded you daily of your other half. Everyone was born with a name on their wrist that assigned them to a soulmate the moment they entered the world. All you had to go by was the names on your wrists and hope it would be someone sane. Everyone didn’t have to worry about that though as some faced a fate worse than death — their soulmate mark written in white. It symbolized the death of their significant other. One would think the word would change into red, like anger and blood, but no. You liked to think the white represented innocence, cleanliness and new beginnings, almost like an angel.

Your soulmate mark was the same since you were welcomed to the world. Wailing loudly and alerting everyone of your arrival. It hadn’t changed over the course of your twenty-five years long life, for better or for worse. Ever since you could remember, you loved listening to the stories of how people met their soulmates. At family gatherings, you would sit on the knee of your relatives and ask them kindly to retell the moment they met their husbands or wives, but your favorite story was always your parents'.

It was a few days before New Years and both of your parents just recently turned eighteen. The biggest snowfall of the year graced Seoul, like a late Christmas miracle, and the streets were swarmed with people enjoying the freezing weather, young and old alike. Your parents hadn’t known each other by then. They lived in the same neighbourhood, but weren’t aware of just how close they were to their soulmates. Your mother, young and happy, gazed up at the snowflakes being pulled by gravity when something cold and hard struck her, followed by horrified gasps. She crouched down, cradling her head, gently pressing against the side where the snowball had hit. A few seconds later, a young man approached her, apologizing and bowing so deeply that he nearly toppled over. It was your father who had launched the snowball at his friend, misaiming and hitting your mother instead.

Little you hoped to experience a romantic encounter with your soulmate as your parents did. You would stay up way past your bedtime and fantasize of meeting your soulmate, coming up with various scenarios that changed every night, but nothing could prepare you for the surge of emotions when your eyes locked. It was your first day of high school and all of the first year students were gathered in the gymnasium, patiently waiting for the principal to call out their names and their respective classes. You sat in the fifth row on the seventh seat, hands clutching the hem of your blue plaid skirt. It was nerve wracking — starting high school, meeting new people and creating friends. Then there was the possibility of finding the one. The principal cleared his throat, probably getting dried from pronouncing all the names right after each other. You pitied him, but that sentiment flew out the window as he moved onto your class. Out of all the three hundred first years and out of your thirty classmates, one of them was named—

“Choi Jongho!” You burst into his office, letting the door bounce off the wall.

The secretary, frantically chasing after you with desperate pleas not to disturb the designated successor of Choi Clothes, stood in the doorway, her face twisted in a mix of fear and nervousness as she failed at her job. Successor, my ass. That man didn’t know anything beyond smoking a pack of Marlboros a day, dodging his responsibilities, and defying his parents. The man in question was currently sitting behind his desk, one ankle propped on his knee, fully decked out in Valentino — a black suit that was probably bespoke, tailored to his fitting. His hair, a natural shade of dark cocoa, was parted down the middle and showcased his forehead while his hands were decorated with various pieces of jewelry, starting with big fat rings on his fingers, a golden watch and a matching bracelet. Jongho didn’t look the least phased by your appearance nor by the loud entrance. In fact, he looked as monotone as ever, but you saw the brief twitch of his fingers. While he was at the company, he wasn’t allowed to take a smoke until lunch or after work and it sure was getting to him.

“Miss Jeong,” came the annoying voice of his secretary as she began reciting the script drilled into her mind from her first day on the clock. “Mr. Choi’s schedule is fully booked this afternoon and he does not have the time to discuss–”

The rest of her sentence was drowned out as you zeroed in on Jongho and raised a brow, silently challenging him to do something. On cue, the stone cold expression morphed into sunlight seeping through an array of thunderous clouds as he broke out in a charming smile and averted his attention to the woman behind you still going on about rules and policies. Gentle as a breeze and with a faux sweetness to his words, he cut her off.

“It’s alright, Eunij. I called her over to plan our date for the evening. We won’t be long, I promise.”

To really secure the win, Jongho flashed her his significant gummy smile that looked sweeter than sugar itself. Jongho knew he was good looking, you knew he was good looking, everyone knew he was good looking, but what they didn’t know was that he used it to his advantage for years. He would flash them a smile warm enough to melt through ice and cheesing eyes that portrayed the sweetest chocolate in the world, but his mouth wasn’t just good for a handsome distraction. More often than not, Jongho would sweet talk his way out of situations. It worked nine out of ten times. The one time it didn’t work was on you.

As expected, Eunji blushed beneath his attentive gaze and your insides turned on fire. The swirls of his name on your skin burned hotter than a blowtorch and no ice bath would save you from the stinging pain. She threw you one last look before closing the door with a gentle click that could barely be heard in the silent room. Being left alone in the solitude of his office and away from the prying eyes of his father’s employees, Jongho allowed the sugary facade to slip like cotton candy dissolving at a brief contact with water. The round eyes of a teddy didn’t find you, but rather a pair belonging to a hungry bear who’s just had his territory disturbed.

Jongho clasped his fingers together and leaned on the mahogany desk, putting his whole weight on it. “I take it you didn’t come here to give me chocolates for White Day?”

Hadn’t you known Jongho for a decade or so, you’d be confused at the teasing remark coming from a man looking anything but in the mood for playing around. You ignored the butterflies fluttering against your stomach and got straight to the point, hoping it would calm the beautiful creatures pushing you to the brink of puking.

“Why did you agree to attend the charity event on my behalf?”

“Because you’re my girlfriend?”

“Fake-girlfriend,” you corrected him and crossed your arms. “I can’t just change my life to accommodate yours, Jongho, this wasn’t the deal. The contract explicitly said we would be under a fake guise until your name was cleared of rumours and scandals.”

“And how do you think that would happen if we don’t play the part of a happy couple? I can’t go on my own, that tells them I’m more available than ever before, especially when we recently went public with the relationship.”

You yielded under his intense gaze and changed the direction of your attention on the shelf to your left displaying various brands of alcohol ranging from pricey Japanese whiskey to Italian wine. The inside of your cheek was caught between your teeth as you contemplated your answer. He had a point, but you didn’t want to boost his already hugemongous ego. Darting your tongue out to lick at your dry lips, you turned back and found his eyes still staring into the depths of your soul as if searching for the red string that tied you together.

“Just… Just ask me next time before you make a decision on your own, okay? That’s all I want.”

The need to defy everyone and everything danced through his veins, yet the rewarding feeling of succeeding to annoy the other party wasn’t as satisfying when you were on the receiving end this time. He flexed his jaw and the hand that slipped beneath the table to rest on his thigh clenched into a tight fist.

“Fine…”

“Thank you.”

That marked the end of your conversation and you took it as your cue to leave. Jongho’s voice calling out your name brought you to a stop. You didn’t let go of your hold on the doorknob, just turned slightly to show him you were listening.

“We’ll pick you up at six PM on Friday and I’ll have Eunji send you the clothes before then.” As if having the ability to read your mind, he quickly added what felt like the most obvious thing in the world. “And yes, the dress is long sleeved.”

That was probably the sole good thing with the contract, besides the paycheck that sold you in the first place. You weren’t picky with the arrangement and went along with everything stated in the agreement — going on a few dates for publicity, holding hands, kissing, posting each other on social media, attending events and galas. Wearing clothes created by Choi Clothes came with the duty of fake-dating the heir of said agency, however you did make it clear you’d only sign the papers if all the clothes were long sleeved, reaching well over your wrist as not to disclose the soulmate mark. The easy money you once thought you’d earn by fake-dating the successor of Choi Clothes turned into a full-time job with no room for slacking off. Just a few more months, you thought and walked out of Choi Enterprises.

It was still hard to wrap your head around everything. You recalled the day they came knocking on your door. A woman and man dressed in expensive clothes that seemed to cost more than the will your parents set aside for you. They introduced themselves as the managers of Mr. and Mrs. Choi, the owners of Choi Clothes. The ice tea you poured in the prettiest set of china you owned were left untouched as the managers — the names you have long since forgotten — explained their unexpected visit. The Chois selected you as the perfect candidate for their little stunt to ensure their son wouldn’t put the entire family line at shame and burn the whole establishment to the ground before he could even acquire the title as CEO.

Your task was, more or less, to be the candy glued to Jongho’s side and together play the part of a couple head over heels for each other. The pair was patient as you bombarded them with questions, meanwhile they only had three — Do you have a soulmate, have you met your soulmate and how is your criminal record? The quiet voice in the back of your mind pointed out how they probably already had the answers, but didn’t want to seem totally uninterested in you.

At first, you didn’t want to do it. Not only were you going to play pretend for a good few months, but you weren’t even allowed to know who you were going to fake-date as they didn’t want you to decline the offer and run your mouth to a newspaper publisher. The fountain pen with gold swirling engravings on its sides looked scary as it lay abandoned beside the pristine contract. That quickly changed when you saw the never ending zeroes slothed after the word ‘total salary’. Your morning shift at the closest seven-eleven that was about to start in thirty minutes flashed before your eyes and you never signed something as fast as you did that contract.

Perhaps you would’ve said no if you knew the heir was going to be none else than your soulmate. The universe worked in miraculous ways and somehow always made sure to lead you back to him. A magnetic pull that steered you in every direction until you would stand before him again.

The weekend came around and so did the event taking place that Saturday afternoon. It would be marked as your second public outing as a couple feeding into the eager eyes and cameras of South Korea. Mr. Oh, Jongho’s designated driver, pulled up in a squeaky clean limousine that looked more out of place than a kitten raised by a group of squirrel monkeys in the Amazon rainforest. Mr. Oh was a kind older man inching closer and closer to his retirement, always wearing a smile and never speaking without referring to others by their titles. In the few and brief encounters you had with the man, he would always greet you with a ‘Hello, Ms. Jeong’ while opening the rear door for you despite being told to just call you by your name. The backseat was already occupied by Jongho sitting in yet another expensive suit.

The suit jacket was black with white tiger-like stripes erupting from his shoulders and reaching all the way down to his midsection. It had six silver buttons, two for practical use while the rest were there for embellishment. Jongho — never one keen on showing too much — chose to keep the jacket buttoned and you wondered how he could endure it, considering he wore a white turtleneck beneath. The pattern wasn’t what caught the eye of the beholder, rather it was the millions of bedazzles covering the whole piece, making it reflect beneath any form of light, identical to the ones on your dress. His hair was styled in a middle part and unveiled his forehead, a sight you had seen a dozen times before, but were still left breathless. It was already established that Jongho was a handsome man, however the suits created by his parents certainly brought out the best of him — accentuating his confidence, breathtaking features and magnetic presence in a way that left everyone in awe.

Jongho brought you back to reality as he did a rundown of the charity event, what questions to expect and what answers to give, the names of some important people you would definitely speak — or at least greet — with tonight and who would exit the limousine first. You definitely missed the way his eyes ran over your figure, seemingly appreciating you in a beautiful dress from the latest spring collection of his parents. The Chois apparently had a knack for chic attires because your dress wasn’t anything over the top either, but would definitely unscrew some jaws. It was strapless and started from your bosom with a straight neckline allowing your collarbones to be captured by the crazy shuttering cameras. The dress was tight around your torso, giving a perfect picture of your figure beneath, but grew loose from your hips and down. The material didn’t stop until it grazed the ground you walked on, despite wearing a pair of black stiletto heels that were made for your feet and clicked with each step you took, announcing your arrival to everyone in a close vicinity.

Speaking of your lower body — your left leg was exposed as a long slit protruded from your upper thigh. Both of your arms were covered in black detachable sleeves reaching up to your mid bicep and cuffing around the cushion of your hand. You almost threw a fit when you took out the dress from its gigantic box and noticed the lack of sleeves on it. You were one phone call away from canceling the whole agreement hadn’t you seen the remaining parts of the attire. To top it off, the Chois gifted you a set of golden jewelry and a black clutch handbag spacious enough to fit your phone, lipstick and wallet. The matching set of earrings, rings and necklace were nothing too outstanding, but enough to take on the elegance of a model.

“We’ll be there for an hour or two and then Mr. Oh will take you home.”

You ignored the part where it was stated Mr. Oh was taking you home and focused on his subtle slip-in of defying his parents’ rules yet again. Your brows furrowed together and Jongho suppressed the need to even out the skin between them. “No, Mr. and Mrs. Choi explicitly said we had to be there until the very end of the event.”

Jongho leaned into his seat and spread his legs further apart until one of his knees touched your thigh. A chuckle void of amusement filled the passenger compartment and he sighed as if you said the joke of the century.

“I think you should relax a little, sweetheart. My parents should be grateful I’m attending in the first place.”

You pursed your lips to keep yourself from giving your input where it clearly wasn’t wished for. Jongho looked out of the window while you admired his side profile. Jongho was the epitome of a whiplash — you never knew when he’d shake you off like a poisonous insect or help you fly as if you were an injured ladybug. His nonchalance left a bitter tang on your tongue, the similar taste after downing a beer you knew you’d puke back up in a few hours, and the imaginary Jongho was crushed in the world you created in your brain.

The karma of thinking such thoughts was instantaneous as the skin beneath your soulmate mark flared to life. You wondered if Jongho experienced repercussions whenever he was treating you badly. The rest of the drive was done in silence safe for the newest global hits playing through the speakers. Four songs later and the limousine temporarily came to a stop before the entrance of a big building looking like something straight out of a movie. A red carpet was rolled out from the doors to the street where everyone’s ride was instructed to stop and let the guests out. Mr. Oh exited first and walked around the oblong vehicle as Jongho simultaneously fixed his suit although it was free of any imperfections.

“It’s showtime, baby.”

The door opened and Jongho stepped out, an array of flashes went off accompanied by the calls of his name — the photographers begging for a crumb of his attention. Jongho straightened his jacket, offered everyone a smile and quick wave before holding out his hand to face the dark heavens. That was your cue. No one really knew who you were outside of being Jongho’s girlfriend and even after you became public, they could find little to no information about you online. Thus, you didn’t expect the clicking of cameras and flashes to multiply in your presence. You grabbed Jongho’s hand per your agreement and stepped out with your exposed leg first then, when you fully exited the limousine — an upgrade from Jongho’s death trap of a motorcycle — you smoothly looped your arm through his and firecrackers erupted on your skin at the contact. You stood tall and got a couple of inches on him thanks to the heels, but he didn’t seem bothered by it and neither was the company otherwise you doubt they would’ve sent it in the first place.

Standing in the centre of attention wasn’t as nauseating as you originally thought it would be and whether you want to admit it or not, it was partially because of Jongho being there to anchor you. It wasn’t his forthe to whisper sweet words of encouragement, but he portrayed his support in other ways such as leading you through the overwhelming photographers, sneaking his arm around your waist and respectfully resting his palm above the curve of your hip. It helped that you rehearsed the events of the night from start to finish with Jongho and wouldn’t be in for a surprise. Taking advice from your favorite childhood movie, you put on the brightest smile of your career and moved along. The audience didn’t need to know you were finding comfort in the famous line from Madagascar.

The inside of the venue was prettier than any other interior you had ever laid eyes on. To be frank, it wasn’t anything exceptional, but the simplicity made it appear so. The main colors of the theme were creme white and beige, and were integrated into everything. The seats were plush chairs made out of velvet material in an ashy shade of beige while the tables were round with white marble tops. There was a path leading straight down the area and separating the room into two occupied with seats on both sides. On the other end of the pathway was a slightly elevated scene where the hosts of the event and guests would give their speeches, and use the smartboard to their liking. The ceiling was the most alluring sight though. Oblong light bulbs hung from the ceiling as sheer garment circled the light in waves. It gave a sense of elegance as well as coziness.

A waiter dressed in a simple black suit offered you champagne on a platter and while you didn’t wish to become drunk, you still needed some alcohol to get through the night, especially when you were going to meet some of Choi Clothes’ most trusted business partners. You both took a glass each and mingled around with Jongho’s arm still glued to you as if it belonged right above the swell of your hip. Not many words, if any at all, were exchanged as you mainly drank in the design of the place while simultaneously ignoring the stares and whispers of the remaining guests, all eyes glued to your forms fitting perfectly with one another like two lost pieces of a puzzle. They were all curious about the pretty lady beneath Jongho’s arm and how the reckless Choi managed to find a girl that would look past his bad habits and disrespectful personality. If only they knew.

Jongho’s situation wasn’t entirely a secret. Everyone knew he was somewhat of a problematic guy with another style of living that wasn’t fit to his parents’ standard. They didn’t feel all too proud waking up to multiple articles of Dispatch flaunting pictures taken of Jongho leaving clubs early in the morning surrounded by boys and girls of all kinds, certainly not the kind to be invited to exclusive fashion events and charities. Jongho hadn’t changed much over the years, if you recalled correctly. He would rarely be present during lectures. He was physically there, but his mind had transcended off to dreamland long before the lesson started. The one interest he had was soccer and even that ended shortly into his second year as he got with the wrong crowd. If someone needed him, he could be found smoking on the roof or behind the back of the school with a handful of students who also had successful parents.

It was sheer luck Jongho was an only child and that his parents were in need of a successor, otherwise he would’ve been kicked to the curb a long time ago. Apparently, the Chois grew sick of his careless behaviour and gave him an ultimatum — clean up his mess or not be signed as an heir to the company. Jongho defied them like always, until his credit card ran empty and he realized his parents wouldn’t relent. He came crawling back with his tail between his legs and agreed to their proposition. You never understood him or why he acted the way he did. He had everything, practically born with a silver spoon in his mouth and it amazed you that the universe decided to tie your souls to each other. Jongho certainly wasn’t the soulmate you expected and your meeting wasn’t anywhere near the romantic encounter your parents experienced.

“Let’s take a seat before the aunties swammer us,” he whispered in your ear and led you to a table with a gentle nudge to the small of your back.

The touch sent plausible tingles of electricity up your spine and the intensity never wavered even when he withdrew his hand to pull out your chair for you — a great play to showcase his inner gentleman. He took his righteous place on your right side, but immediately regretted it. His ploy of escaping the aunties proved to be futile as Mrs. Kang, a good business partner of Jongho’s paternal grandparents, butted into your table and plopped down on the vacant seat beside you despite her name not being on the list and began shooting invasive questions. The older lady wanted to know everything about you — your age, name, workplace, how you knew Jongho, who your soulmate was, if you and Jongho were soulmates. She pulled on the imaginary rubber band attached to Jongho’s wrist until it snapped and rebounded against his skin.

“Mrs. Kang, don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”

The chatter around the table quieted down at Jongho’s sharp reply and you acted quickly to ease the tension. You placed your hand over his and gave it a firm squeeze. The motion averted his attention from Mrs. Kang to your stern gaze. A silent conversation ensued between you.

“Stop.”

“She’s the one who started it.”

“I don’t care. It won’t look good for you or your parents.”

Jongho eventually gave in and leaned back in his chair. The sudden cold shoulder on his part was him telling you he wasn’t pleased with the outcome. Not like you cared. Yes, your part of the deal was to be his fake-girlfriend, but you couldn’t just let him do as he wished to the people around him as it would reflect a bad light on you too.

“Welcome everyone to the Fashion For Aid charity event aimed at assisting children in group homes! I want to express my sincere gratitude to everyone for attending on this fine evening…”

The host was a man in his late sixties with a head full of hair and face clean of any. You weren’t paying much attention to what he was saying as you weren’t well versed into the fashion world, but you did your best to at least look immersed in his speech. The man to your right wasn’t looking any more interested than you did and actually managed to sit through the first five minutes of the opening ceremony, until he got bored. After that, he played a game of what-could-Jongho-do-to-annoy-his-soulmate-in-the-fastest-way-possible? He did everything to get on your nerves — drumming his fingers against the edge of the table, staring at you then looking away when you met his gaze, loudly cracking his neck and fingers, and frequently checked his phone. The moment the host finished his lengthy speech and encouraged everyone to visit the table full of sweets and drinks placed on both sides of the room, Jongho jumped from his seat, hand already reaching into the inner pocket of his suit.

“If you’ll excuse me, a man’s gotta use the bathroom.”

“Jongho!” You hissed after him, but he either didn’t hear you or blatantly ignored you. As you moved to follow him, an inkling feeling telling you the bathroom was the last place he was headed for, a wrinkly hand landed on your thigh and successfully stopped you from going after him.

“Oh, honey, it is not worth stressing over him. Youngsters like that boy don’t change and he won’t do it even with a beautiful lady by his side.”

A bucket of water spilled over you and froze all forty-three muscles in your face. You somehow managed to force the corners of your mouth up and fake a smile, but the sincerity was not evident in your eyes.

“I, uhm, don’t want him to change. Really.” You added in the end as Mrs. Kang raised a brow in non-belief. “I like Jongho as he is and I don’t think he needs to change to fit in other people's crowded boxes.”

“If you say so, dear, but… if you’re interested, I have a nephew your age who would suit you much better than Mr. Choi.” She turned in her seat and scanned the crowd for said nephew. A fire lit beneath your chair as she began waving him over.

“Oh, Mrs. Kang, that's not necessary.” The reassuring words fell on deaf ears — literally — and although you weren’t too keen on lying, you already had one rich kid to look after. “I think I heard Jongho calling for me, I’ll be right back!”

Jongho was in fact not calling you over. Jongho was gone, disappeared into thin air and abandoned you in a room full of strangers. It would be a miracle if he hadn’t asked Mr. Oh to drive him someplace, leaving you to figure out your own ride home.

“Fucking hell, Jongho,” you muttered and weaved through the crowd of successful people and nepotism babies.

The venue was so packed with people you couldn’t even try searching for the bathrooms and opted to go back out again. The outside wasn’t void of people either, as some foreign faces stood socializing with each other, drinks in one hand and fat cigars squeezed between the pointer- and middle finger of their other hand. Not searching for more aunties or uncles to flag you down, you walked away from the people to a place that seemed vacant. Who would’ve known the universe was pulling on your red string and leading you in the direction of your soulmate. Turning the corner of the building, you stumbled over the view of Jongho crouched down behind a couple of taller bushes. Much like the other gentlemen, he too had a slim cigarette placed between his lips, dragging the poisonous smoke right into his lungs. You understood why out of all the places, he chose to smoke on the other side of the building. It was less prone to attract the paparazzi searching for something juicy to spread on social media.

Jongho didn’t kill the glowing stick as you appeared in his peripheral vision nor did he show a sign of acknowledging your sudden appearance. You didn’t go out of your way to chastise him for smoking in a public setting either, instead you took a stance beside him while he inhaled the last of the cancer-stick and looked straight ahead. It was already stuffy just standing there in silence, you didn’t need to stare at him with questions swimming in your eyes.

The warm sun of March was replaced by the round and bright moon, allowing a certain frost to the early spring breeze. You crossed your arms over your chest and caressed the exposed skin of your bicep with your thumb in a poor attempt at subduing the coldness. The dress was beautiful, but it certainly wasn’t made for such weather and you were questioning their professionalism as they didn’t give you a coat or any other outerwear. On the other hand, Jongho had been admiring you for the last couple of seconds since you took the place beside him and the sharp goosebumps littered on your body didn’t go unnoticed by him. He balanced the cigarette between his lips and slipped the suit jacket off himself. The rustle of clothes caught your attention and before you could realize what was happening, a newfound warmth wrapped around you followed by a mild fragrance of charcoal, pine needles and espresso.

“You don’t have to–”

“I’m not letting my date freeze her ass off.”

You tried ignoring the harsh squeeze of your heart and a pang of heat blossoming from the center of your chest, sprouting out to the rest of your body. This was just Jongho being kind, nothing more, nothing less. Yet your heart and soulmate mark thought otherwise. The stinging smell of his cigarette was a perfect distraction and your nose scrunched at the awful burn. Jongho needed all of three seconds to take one last drag of the stick, blow it away from your face and throw it to the ground, his expensive boot coming down to turn it to speckles of ash.

“I’m going back inside,” you announced after another minute of silence. “It won’t look good if both of us are missing.”

“Who cares what they think? They’ll always have something to say about me in the end so it doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t have to prove them right, you know?”

You didn’t get another answer after that and decided to take your leave. A warm hand circles around your wrist, their thumb grazing the covered soulmate mark and stopping you in your steps. You turned around, Jongho’s hand still on you but his eyes avoiding yours at all cost.

“...Wanna get out of here?” He eventually asked.

Another beat passed and you pressed your lips together. “We really shouldn’t, Jongho, besides it’s against the contract.”

A genuine laugh escaped him and he moved toward the opposite side of the event, rounding the corner you didn't appear from. “Screw the contract.”

You quickly followed his head, intrigued and worried at where he was headed. Perhaps you got worked up for nothing as a bunch of expensive cars as well as limousines were parked in neat rows, the moonlight reflecting off their polished hoods and trunks.

“Where are you going?” You hissed and bunched one end of your dress to not accidentally step on it and twist your ankle.

“Why don’t you find out?”

How you managed to find yourself in this situation was beyond you. Not once was it stated in the contract that you would need to use Jongho’s death trap as a form of transportation, yet there you were sitting on the back of his motorcycle as he zoomed through the street. It was a miracle he successfully managed to sneak it into the parking lot without having any of the guards or chaperons turning him down. Then again, it was Choi Jongho they were dealing with. What Jongho wanted, Jongho got. Your arms were tightly wrapped around his midsection and your eyes squeezed shut, almost believing the danger of the situation would disappear if you couldn’t see the blur of scenery whiz past you.

Jongho smirked at the feel of you squeezing him to death and he purposefully revved the bike to go faster just to hear your squeaks of fear slip beneath your helmet. He wasn’t even going half the speed he was used to, but he felt just a twinge of remorse for you. The motorcycle slowed down and eventually stopped before a red light.

“You can open your eyes now,” he spoke into the built-in bluetooth in his helmet and placed his hand on your intertwined ones, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles in a soothing motion. The whipping wind was quickly drying your hands and he was cursing himself for the pair of gloves he forgot on the edge of his bed.

You did as told, albeit opening one eye at a time just to make sure he wasn’t sugarcoating the situation. He wasn’t and for once you were happy about being wrong.

“How much more?” You asked, your throat dry and beginning for a sip of water.

“We’re almost there.” The traffic light switched to yellow. “Hold on tight now.”

It took an eternity — twenty minutes — until Jongho put the motorcycle in neutral and turned off the throttle as well as the ignition switch, and allowed the weight of the vehicle to lean on the kickstand. He took off his helmet and ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the gelled strands in the process and placed the helmet on the surface of the fuel tank. You slightly released your grip on him, but were still reluctant to move as you were afraid of somehow falling off the motorcycle or tipping the whole thing over and thus let your fingers hover over his sides. Jongho’s feet were planted on the ground for extra security and comfort, and threw a quick glance over his shoulder to see you sit stiff as a board. He turned away and brought his shoulders up to his ears as he quietly chuckled to himself. The helmet was still on your head and your cheeks mushed by the pillowy cushion inside, making you look like a chipmunk with its cheeks full of nuts.

“I thought you hated her?” He asked through his giggles.

“Huh?”

“The motorcycle. I thought you hated the motorcycle, besides can you let go off me now? Unless you like touching me–”

You didn’t need to hear more to fling your hands in the air. The abrupt motion almost caused you to fall back, hadn't you grabbed Jongho’s shoulders again. It was sheer luck that he was sturdy enough not to lean back from your harsh grip. He laughed again, a chuckle that brought his gummy smile into the moonlight. It was a sound you came to like and wouldn't mind hearing for the rest of your life. The admission caused your ears to burn with embarrassment, and you were grateful that the soulmate connection was limited to the scribbled name on your wrist, not giving your other half the ability to feel your emotions or hear your thoughts.

“Okay, go like this. Place this foot,” he patted the side of your left thigh, “on the ground and swing your other leg over the bike, then carefully step off. Hold onto me until you’re completely off so you don’t fall.”

His instructions were easy to follow and you managed to get off without hurting yourself, him, or damaging his prized possession. The sound of water softly washing up against the sand reached your ears and it was only when you dismounted the motorcycle that you took in your surroundings. The view was nothing short of exceptional. You stood on the sidewalk with stairs leading straight down to the riverside area, giving you a perfect view of the river. It was slightly blurry and you couldn't quite figure out why. As your hand subconsciously reached up to rub your eyes, you accidentally brushed against the visor. Unsure how to remove the helmet without discomfort, you decided to simply slide the visor up instead.

The Mapo Bridge was even prettier at night, with its blue and purple lights twinkling beneath the dark sky. At least a hundred cars drove across the bridge in the few minutes since you arrived and the sound of their tires and whirring motors added a sense of tranquility to the setting. The prettiest of it all were the cherry blossoms slipping off the branches of the Prunus serrulata trees. The ground was covered in pink and white petals, and some even landed in your hair. It was magical.

It dawned on you just where Jongho had brought you — Yeouido Hangang Park. While you were busy taking in every little detail of the scenery, Jongho retrieved his keys from the ignition and stopped beside you. He buried them in the pockets of his pants to prevent you from noticing he was fidgeting with the keys, thus keeping his dignity intact. He couldn’t have you going around thinking you were the reason behind the butterflies fluttering in his stomach and whether that was true or not would stay with Jongho, and Jongho only.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed out.

Jongho hummed in agreement, yet his eyes didn’t budge from your form. It didn’t matter that you wore stiletto heels with a designer dress, a suit jacket multiple sizes too big for you and a sports helmet on your head — you looked as beautiful as the first day he met you, all those years ago in high school. He cleared his throat and stepped in front of you, the pads of his fingers gently grazing the skin beneath your chin as he unclasped the straps of your helmet. The little click snapped your attention to his eyes full of focus that shifted from your chin up to your lips, and lastly your eyes. As if stuck in a trance unable to look away, you drowned in the warmest hue of brown molded out of the richest cacao beans in the world. Jongho slowly took hold of your helmet and began pushing it upwards, but with a gentleness you hadn’t witnessed before. He was so careful and the imagination of having your head ripped off your body didn’t come to life.

“Thank you,” you whispered as he successfully removed the gear.

“No worries… I’m sure my mom would have my head if I let a lady walk around in designer clothes with a cheap helmet on.”

Although his intentions weren’t to tickle your belly, the sound of your laughter spread a fervor through his body and shone light on the darkest parts in him. It was contagious and he found his own lips curling up, eyes cheesing and that angelic voice of his handing out gleeful melodies to the few people taking a late-night stroll in the park.

“Come on, let’s take a walk.” He held out his hand for you to take and you did without a second thought. “I meant your heels, but lucky for you I have two hands.”

You began withdrawing your hand, but Jongho had already laced your fingers together and refused to let go.

“You're unbelievable,” you muttered, pretending the heat of embarrassment wasn't attacking your cheeks.

“I could live with that.”

Jongho pulled you along toward the flight of stairs and patiently walked with you. It didn’t matter that it took five minutes to reach the bottom because he was with you every step of the way and if you said anything otherwise, Jongho would’ve argued the night was still young and that the five minutes were worth it as he got to spend them with you. He was lucky his parents chose a candidate who wasn’t insecure of themselves to the point they apologized for every minor inconvenience, because Jongho wasn’t sure how the sweet words would fit his unruly persona. The first three steps on the sand made you change your mind and you quickly removed the heels, flexing your stiff feet and releasing a breath of relief. The expensive pair of footwear were handed to Jongho who hooked his pointer- and middle finger in the heel counter while his other set of fingers were still braided with yours.

“It’s nice here,” you admitted and looked out on the river. The other side was covered with a bunch of buildings, much like the ones behind you, and looked like a scene straight out of a movie. Where the lights of the apartments, universities and hospitals took on the looks of the stars above.

“Mmmmm, it’s quiet and empty.”

“Do you come here a lot?”

Jongho pondered for a moment. “Sometimes… I can think easier when there aren’t a bunch of people breathing down my neck, plus the ride here helps me clear my head.”

“It’s overwhelming, right? I mean being in the spotlight constantly and having your every move watched from an early age, no?”

He shrugged. “It was at first, but… I stopped caring after a while and people stopped expecting things from me.”

You hummed in understanding and let the gentle waves wash over the conversation. The curiosity you once carried with you concerning Jongho’s defying personality simmered down to nothing and you realized it wasn’t a topic you should venture in on just yet. Instead, you changed it to something less serious.

“You know, I didn’t think we’d see each other after high school, but look at us now. Holding hands beneath the stars… Are you perhaps starting to like me, Jjong?”

One end of Jongho's lips curled into a shit-eating grin and his tongue poked the inside of his cheek, and you couldn't tell if it was from the nickname or from bringing up old high school memories. Jongho’s walking slowed down until both feet were planted on the sand, not bugging despite you being half a step ahead of him. You looked over your shoulder to see what was the reason for stopping.

“I don’t know whether to be offended or flattered by the fact that you think I’m just now starting to like you.”

He shortened the distance between you, leaving barely any room for air to squeeze past your bodies. His thumb traced a never-ending circle across the back of your hand and your heels had long since dropped onto the sand, giving him the freedom to cradle the side of your face. Your breath hitched in your throat and your heart seemed to sprout a pair of angel wings, soaring in your chest at the contact of his skin on yours.

"To answer your question, soulmate, I’ve liked you since the day I saw you in that gymnasium." Jongho's eyes traveled over your face, giving each feature and detail equal attention, as if he wanted to memorize your beauty as though it were a cheat sheet for an exam. "You were dressed in that cute school uniform, your hair braided and kept out of your face, and you looked absolutely sick to your stomach. That’s when I knew our souls were made for each other. I didn’t even need to know your name or look at your wrist. I just knew."

The world went silent around you. The sloshing of water, the chorus of cute laughter and the moving vehicles were muffled sounds that didn’t reach your ears. A furious heat crawled up your back and neck, nipping at your cheeks until you were on the brink of burning up like a firework, but the rest of your body — your fingers, toes, nose and ears — were freezing cold. A massive star nearing the end of its life cycle suddenly exploded and your hearing came back. The air that had caught in your throat was let out as Jongho’s words settled in your mind.

“Jongho,” you lamely whispered in return.

The secret you had carried for years turned out not to be much of a secret after all, and the hundreds, thousands, of people you thought you were fooling day in and day out weren’t deserving of that title. Because the biggest fool out of them all was you.

“You knew all along?”

Jongho shrugged and tore his eyes from your dumbfounded expression down to your wrist. “It wasn’t hard to figure out.” His thumb slid up beneath your detachable sleeves, exposing the name you kept hidden for years. “I mean, it isn’t everyday I hear about a pretty girl with my name tattooed on her wrist and hers on mine.”

You didn’t know what to focus on first. The fact that he called you a pretty girl, his thumb caressing your soulmate mark or him knowing you were destined together since high school. Your tongue darted out to lick at your bottom lip and his eyes were quick to follow the brief movement. He swallowed thickly and forced them up again.

“I take it you knew too?”

You nodded in return. “When they called out your name in the assembly and I caught the side of your face.”

“I’m happy you didn’t approach me then,” he suddenly admitted and chuckled as your brows pinched together. “Fate brought us together in the end.”

“But we aren’t together-together.”

“Last time I checked, you pretty much signed a contract to date me.”

“Fake-date you.”

The tongue poking the inside of his cheek looked ten times more attractive beneath the moonlight, and you wanted nothing more than to run your hand through his hair and kiss that darned smirk off his face. Perhaps the soulmate bond went further than a name scribbled on the outer layer of your skin, because your wish wasn’t too far from Jongho’s. He, too, wanted to get a taste of your lips. To have some remnants of your lipstick smudge against his and guess the flavor of it — maybe strawberry or cherry, though he always took you for a coconut girl.

He rolled his eyes and nodded. “Okay, fake-date then… Better?”

Not in the least.

“Much better.”

“It’s not for me,” he quickly added.

“Why?”

Jongho inhaled a sharp intake of air and waited, playing the scene out in his mind and weighing out his options before puking his thoughts and feelings out in an almost vacant park. “Because… I want to do stuff with you. To hold your hand, take you out on dates, kiss you, hug you and just be with you like a real couple. I want to know that the look you have when you’re with me is real, that it isn’t just a job for you. I need to know that you want me as much as I want you.”

“I have always wanted you,” you confessed shakily. “Before I even knew you, Jongho. There was nothing more I wanted than to find my soulmate and that hasn’t changed. Even when I did find you and lost you at the same time, that desire still lived within me. It still does… And when I found out you were the rich kid who needed a fake-girlfriend, it felt like the world was laughing in my face, but I realized it was giving me a second chance. Us a second chance.”

Now it was Jongho’s turn to look dumbfounded. You took his silence as a sign to continue.

“And all you had to do, Jjong, was ask. Even now. Just ask for what you want.”

The man stared at you as if heaven were beneath your fingertips, as if a single touch of your finger would bring him eternal peace and serenity. You were truly the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on and no one else could compete with your beauty — even if they were sculpted by Aphrodite herself. Jongho was never a listener — always defying and doing as he pleased. Yet this one time, the one time, he would be darned if he didn’t.

“May I kiss you?”

“Please.”

The stars aligned as his lips gently pressed against yours. Jongho was right, you tasted like coconut and it had him craving for more, yet the fear of pushing you away was greater than his need. The fingers of your free hand tangled into the side of his shirt to steady your swirling mind, but did little for your erratically beating heart. Jongho wasn’t rough nor eager to ravage your mouth with his tongue, rather on the contrary. It was a soft and lingering kiss that tested the waters. You parted to inhale air before diving in for another kiss, this one a little more urgent and daring than the first, but equally sweet. Jongho’s tongue swiped at your bottom lip and you tilted your head sideways while allowing him access. Even now with his tongue exploring your mouth, the kiss didn’t change from intimate to hungry. A fire was set in your lungs that ached for oxygen and you were left with no choice but to break apart. Jongho rested his forehead against yours, noses brushing and heavy gasps for air fanning your faces.

“You drive me crazy,” he said between breaths.

“I’m not… doing anything.” You had to fight the smile threatening to dance across your lips. This was a whole new side to Jongho, a side you had never seen before but wouldn’t trade for the world.

“Precisely and you still make me lose my mind.”

The stubborn smile eventually broke through and Jongho huffed out a chuckle at the gleeful expression. I’m-not-doing-anything his ass. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek once and twice, but froze in motion as you asked him a question.

“Did you really mean everything you said earlier? About the contract, I mean.”

“Yes,” he answered in a heartbeat. “If I could, I would terminate the contract, but keep this. Keep us.”

A beat passed and then another. Your thoughts were flying wild, narrowly avoiding each other and the explosion that would ensue.

“Let’s do it then,” you eventually said. That was the second bravest thing you had done in your life. The first would be signing the contract while running on four hours of sleep. “Let’s do it for real.”

Jongho gauged your expression, searching for any sign of uncertainty or regret. When he couldn’t find even a hint of either, he pressed his lips against yours. Affection, joy, and excitement poured into the kiss, and Jongho hoped you would feel at least half of it. Unbeknownst to the new couple, two people stood by Jongho’s motorcycle. The man wore a fancy black suit, while the woman’s dress elegantly hugged her curves as she stood effortlessly in her heels. A set of black sunglasses obscured their eyes, despite the fact that the sun had long since exchanged places with the moon. The pair seemed out of place in Yeouido Hangang Park surrounded by people dressed in casual clothing. Passersby noticed it too, shooting them strange looks, but neither of them cared. Their attention was fixed on the couple brought together by destiny.

“I knew she was the one for him,” the man proudly admitted and puffed out his chest.

The woman beside him scoffed. “Please, I was the one who found her Linkedin and recognized her name from Mr. Choi’s wrist.”

The pair gave them one last look before turning around and clambering back into the limousine, which drove them straight to the charity event. They had left the party in a hurry the moment they noticed the absence of the successor of Choi Clothes and his fake girlfriend — or should they say, his real girlfriend?

#feedback: pretend you love me #[☀️] my esther #ateez x reader #choi Jongho x reader #ateez #choi jongho #fanfiction #drabble #oneshot

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dontmindmeimobsessed · 17 hours ago

Text

The Outfit

“You’re spending too much time with that white man,” Grace scoffed. Louis rolled his eyes.

“I told you, he ain’t white, he French. And, what, I can’t have a friend?”

They’d already had this argument, more than once.

“Never had friends before.”

“Yes, and this is a nice change. You’ve got Levi, Paul’s got… I don’t know, Jesus?”

That finally got a laugh out of his sister. They sat at the dinner table alone. Mama had already retired for the night, and Paul was at midnight mass, regardless of the fact that it was only 9.

“Why can’t I have somebody?” He asked.

“You can have somebody,” she said earnestly. “But why him?”

“Why not him?”

“He makes people uncomfortable.”

“He’s got tricks, that’s all.”

“Hmph.”

Louis grinned. “And now you sound like Mama.”

“Just be careful, Louis.” Her gaze softened. “You will, won’t you?”

“I will.”

He didn’t tell her he was going to meet Lestat after this, to take him to his favorite tailor over on South Rampart St. He’d never thought he’d be friends with a white man, a Frenchman at that. But Lestat didn’t belittle him, never talked down to him or questioned his intelligence. He wanted Louis’ opinion on everything, asked him questions, peppered him with them, what did he like to read, what was his favorite song, where was the best place to go for a drink or to listen to a band. And other questions: why did he let Tom Anderson talk to him any which way? Why didn’t he gut Alderman Fenwick like a pig with the knife hidden in his walking stick? Why did he insist on calling these worms sir? Lestat said it was beneath him, and he was right, Louis knew he was right, but try as he might to explain that things worked differently in America than Europe, Lestat didn’t understand, which made him equal parts enamored and exasperated.

And Lestat’s clothes. Louis shook his head. They were well-made, and expensive, but about 10-15 years out of date, at least, which he wasn’t sure how to explain to himself, since Lestat clearly had the means to be up on the latest fashions? But maybe he didn’t care about fashion. Only that seemed wrong, too, because someone that didn’t care about fashion wouldn’t jump at the chance to be taken to the best tailor in all of New Orleans, or arrive with 13 trunks full of shit in the first place, for that matter. A mystery, his Lestat.

Not yours, he told himself. Slow down, Louis. Maybe Grace was right. Maybe he needed to be a little more careful.

He pulled out his golden pocket watch and checked the time. Half past nine, now, and he was due to meet Lestat.

“Don’t stay up too late. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He got up and dropped a kiss on Grace’s cheek.

“See you tomorrow.”

By the time he got to the tailor, Lestat was waiting outside.

Shit.

Try as he might, and he was trying, he couldn’t stop noticing how good looking Lestat was. Golden hair, broad shoulders, and the most piercing gaze. Like he was looking right into Louis, reading his mind. Good thing he couldn’t read his mind, because he was usually thinking about how he wanted to kiss Lestat. Which was inappropriate. He shook himself out of those thoughts and smiled.

“Remind me why we couldn’t do this in the morning?” Louis asked.

“I’ve told you, Louis,” Lestat said breezily. “I’m not a morning person.”

“We’ll have to pay extra for him to see you at night.”

Lestat waved a hand dismissively.

“All right, all right.” Louis laughed and rapped on the door. The tailor’s shop receptionist opened it immediately.

“Mr. de Pointe du Lac,” she said.

She nodded her head in Lestat’s direction.

“Sir. Come in.” She stood to the side and they entered the tailor shop.

The tailor was an Irishman by the name of Declan Ahearn. He’d arrived in New Orleans a few years prior and set up shop in the Central Business District. It had taken him awhile to strum up business - the other whites didn't much like Irish, Italians, or Jews - and Louis knew he'd been one of his first customers. He'd been curious, he'd never met an Irishman before. Could barely understand the man at first, but he sewed him a jacket like nothing he'd ever seen, a red striped number, so he kept coming back. Then when Pa died, Louis had needed a place to put his money, and quickly, lest bill collectors and God knows who else came calling, and the Irishman let him stash it here. He had stash houses all over the city, now, but kept the bulk of it here, paid Declan 10% of his earnings to keep it safe for him.

His receptionist was a Colored girl, Verte LaFontaine, and Louis had long wondered if they had something going on. She was always here, no matter the time of day or night, and he knew Declan kept an apartment upstairs.

"Miss LaFontaine," he kissed her on the cheek. "This is my friend, Monsieur Lestat de Lioncourt."

"Monsieur de Lioncourt," she nodded again. "Tout lien avec le marquis d'Auvergne de Lioncourt? J'ai étudié l'histoire de France."

Lestat clapped his hands, delighted. "Elle parle parfaitement français!"

"Oui monsieur, ma mère a insisté," Miss LaFontaine said. "Dit qu'aucun créole louisianais qui se respecte ne parle pas l'anglais."

"Hey!" Louis said. His French was rusty, but he caught the gist of it.

"Sorry, Louis," she said with a laugh. "Declan will be down shortly. Care to have a cup of coffee while you wait?"

"Yes, please."

"Louis!" Lestat admonished him as soon as she was out of earshot. "Why didn't you tell me she spoke French?! I would've come to visit sooner, if only to have someone to converse with in the mother tongue."

"I thought you said you were gonna teach me French?"

Lestat laughed. "Don't pout, Louis, don't be jealous! I only have eyes for you."

It's just humor, Louis told himself as heat bloomed in his stomach. This was how Lestat liked to tease, a mock flirtatiousness that bordered on disrespect. It was part of what had initially infuriated him about the man, but he was learning the nuances of Lestat's communication style.

They were interrupted by Miss LaFontaine returning with a tray of coffee, two cups, and a saucer of milk and cream.

"Sucre, monsieur?" She asked Lestat as she poured him a cup.

"English, please," Louis said crisply. He wasn't jealous, though, he told himself. He wasn't.

"Non, merci," Lestat responded with a smile.

Louis had had just about enough of this. "I'm gon’ tell Declan you're down here flirting."

Ha! He thought. A blush finally spread across Miss LaFontaine's cheeks. He KNEW they had something going on.

"Flirting, did you say?" Declan's thick accent entered the room before he did.

"Oh, it's just good fun," Miss LaFontaine said. Now that Declan was in the room, she only had eyes for him. “Just entertaining your guests, is all.”

Declan was tall and dark-haired, which had surprised Louis when he met him, he'd thought all Irish were redheads. He did have eyes as green as moss on a weeping willow, though.

“Thank you, Miss LaFontaine,” Declan said, smiling at her so broadly Louis could see the gold crown covering the molar in the back of his mouth. “What would I do without you?”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Ahearn, sir. And I reckon you’d get along just fine.”

“Never.”

Lestat’s eyes went between the two of them amusedly.

“Comme c'est beau,” he said. Miss LaFontaine’s pulse jumped in her throat.

“I’ll be leaving you now, sirs.” She placed the two full coffee cups on the table, picked up the tray, and left. Declan’s eyes followed her out of the room before he turned to Louis.

“Louis!” He shook his hand. “What brings you here at this time of night?”

Louis clapped a hand on Lestat’s shoulder. “My friend here needs a new wardrobe, and I’m afraid he’s not a morning person.”

A glint came into Declan’s eyes. “A new wardrobe? What were you thinking?”

Louis tapped his chin. He finally let his eyes roam appreciatively over Lestat, under the guise of deciding. He’d already decided what they should get.

“Three piece suit… four, maybe five of them? Gray pinstripe, brown, black… herringbone?”

Declan nodded enthusiastically.

“Wool. Notched collar. Nipped waist. Broad shoulders. Clean lines, polished. You know how I like,” Louis continued.

Declan pulled a small notepad and pencil out of his pocket and began to take notes.

“Five shirts… seven?” Louis asked.

“Seven is better.”

“Two white, two striped, three plain.” He approached Lestat, put his hands on his shoulders. “May I?” He asked.

“Of course,” Lestat said. Louis removed Lestat’s jacket and set it aside. He stood directly in front of him, so close their noses were almost touching. Lestat wore a white collared shirt with a vest under his jacket.

“Two sweaters,” Louis said while he brushed his hands down Lestat’s arms, as if he were flicking away imaginary lint. “Cardigans. Nice big buttons. Brown. And… red.”

“You love your red, Louis, you devil,” Declan grinned. “What else?”

He adjusted Lestat’s tie. It was an old-fashioned silk cravat, tied Cravate à la Byron. That just would not do. It was the new 20th century, after all. “Ties. Ten of them. Paisley. Stripes. Argyle. Green. Silk, of course.” He paused. “Two dinner jackets. Two vests. Two pairs of pants.” He tucked Lestat’s hair behind his ear. His eyes really were the most extraordinary shade of blue. “A hat. Black, Bowler.” He let his hands drift down to Lestat’s wrists. “Pocket squares, cuff links?” Lestat nodded. “Those too, Declan.”

“Anything for you?”

“I need a new Chesterfield coat. Gray for me.” He winked at Lestat. “Black for him.”

“Matching?” Declan asked.

“Yes. Oui s'il vous plait,” Louis said. “See, I know a little.”

“Je vois, mon amour,” Lestat said quietly.

“M-mon amour?” Louis stuttered out.

“Mon ami.”

A slip of the tongue, that’s all, Louis said to himself. An accident.

“Declan, might I make a request?” Lestat said. His eyes were locked on Louis’.

“Whatever you want, Mr. de Lioncourt.”

“An inscription on the ticket pocket of the herringbone, if I may? I’ll write it down for you.”

“Of course.” Declan handed over the notepad and Lestat hid it from Louis while he wrote in it.

Louis raised his eyebrows. Lestat only smiled at him and handed the notebook back.

“Keep your secrets, then,” Louis said with a laugh.

“When will the order be ready?” Lestat asked Declan.

“Eight to twelve weeks. Eight at the earliest.”

“Send me an invoice and the bill will be paid in full.”

“Not for the Chesterfield-” Louis started to say.

“Include both Chesterfields, s'il vous plait,” Lestat interjected.

“Excellent.” Declan looked like the cat who ate the canary. Louis had brought friends here before, but never such a large and extravagant order.

“Could he try on some items while we’re here? Samples?” Louis asked.

“Wonderful idea. Let me bring out a few things.” He disappeared into the back.

Now Louis and Lestat were alone.

“I hope I wasn’t too presumptuous,” Louis said. What he didn’t say was, I’ve thought about you in these clothes for weeks.

“Au contraire, my Louis,” Lestat replied. “This has been quite wonderful.”

His Louis. His.

They still stood so close, nose to nose. Louis tried to swallow down his… proclivities. Lestat was his friend. He didn’t want to make it awkward and ruin it. But he couldn’t help but wonder what he would taste like if he leaned forward just an inch, closed the space in between them. Let his lips land on his. Would he push him away? Or would he embrace him?

Declan came back pushing a rolling metal garment rack, with Miss LaFontaine in tow holding the notepad and pencil. Louis took a step back.

“All right, lads, we have a few things here. Jackets, shirts, pants… I’m not a hat maker but I have a few hats, we work with an excellent milliner next door.”

He pulled out a sewing tape measure and a pin cushion stuck with pins. “I’m just going to take a few measurements, and Miss LaFontaine will take notes for me. You ready, Miss LaFontaine?"

"Yes, Mr. Ahearn, sir."

"All right. Arms out, if you please."

Lestat spread his arms like a bird. Declan began to measure him. Louis tried to ignore what was definitely a pang of jealousy as Declan's hands swept across Lestat.

"Height... 72 inches. Chest... 38 inches. Waist... 31 inches. Hips... 38 and a half inches, make sure you get the half, Miss LaFontaine. Inseam... 34 inches. Sleeve length... 32 inches. Neck size... 16 inches."

Miss LaFontaine nodded. "I got it, Declan... I mean, sir."

He smiled at her. "I'm sure Mr. de Pointe du Lac and Mr. de Lioncourt don't mind if you call me Declan, do they?"

Louis shrugged. "It don't bother me none."

"Nor me," Lestat said primly.

"All right, now that’s settled, let's try a jacket." Declan grinned winningly at Miss LaFontaine, who pulled a dark gray pinstripe dinner jacket off the rack.

"May I?" Louis asked again. Miss LaFontaine held out the jacket, and Louis took it from her. He helped Lestat into the jacket and buttoned it up. It had an oversized lapel, which he adjusted, tucking in Lestat's cravat for him. "Hat?" he asked Declan. Declan handed him a wool Bowler Derby hat with a ribbon band. He passed it to Lestat, who turned around and settled it on his head in the mirror. He tucked his hair behind his ears, a hint of a smile pulling at the left corner of his mouth, the side with the little scar, the side Louis ached to touch, to kiss. Louis leaned over to look in the mirror at Lestat’s reflection himself. Lestat was pleased, he could tell.

“You like it?” He asked anyway.

“C'est magnifique, parfait. I love it.” Lestat smiled brilliantly at him.

“Please keep the hat and the jacket,” Declan said. “And a few ties. It’s the very least we can do to tide you over until the rest is ready. We have seamstresses on call, we’ll bring on assistants, won’t we, Miss LaFontaine?”

“Yes, sir, Monsier de Lioncourt. Nous l'aurons prêt en un rien de temps.”

Louis rolled his eyes.

“Louis is becoming exasperated,” Lestat said. “I think it might be time for us to retire for the evening.”

“Lestat!”

“C'était un plaisir de vous rencontrer,” Lestat continued. He lifted Miss LaFontaine’s hand and kissed her fingers.

“Oh, now I’m jealous!” Declan said good-naturedly. “The price just doubled.”

“Come, Louis, we must go before it triples!” Lestat swept out the front door, giggling uncontrollably.

Declan laughed and shook his head. “I like him very much, Louis.”

“Always good to see you, Declan.” Louis shook his hand. “Miss LaFontaine.” He kissed her cheek.

“And you, too, Louis.” Miss LaFontaine wiggled her eyebrows at him and held up something behind her back. The notepad.

“Come with me upstairs, darling…” She steered Declan away, discreetly leaving the notepad on the table.

Louis snatched it up the instant they were gone and opened it to the page just before Declan’s measurements. And there, in the bold, curving script of Lestat’s handwriting, he saw the inscription he’d requested be sewn over the ticket pocket of the herringbone suit jacket:

LDPDL

#interview with the vampire #iwtv #fanfic #loustat #louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #fashion as foreplay #fashion as flirting #I couldn’t resist #also on ao3 #mine

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