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mostlysignssomeportents · 11 months

Text

Podcasting "Microincentives and Enshittification"

Tomorrow (Oct 25) at 10hPT/18hUK, I'm livestreaming an event called "Seizing the Means of Computation" for the Edinburgh Futures Institute.

This week on my podcast, I read my recent Medium column, "Microincentives and Enshittification," about the way that monopoly drives mediocrity, with Google's declining quality as Exhibit A:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

It's not your imagination: Google used to be better – in every way. Search used to be better, sure, but Google used to be better as a company. It treated its workers better (for example, not laying off 12,000 workers months after a stock buyback that would have paid their salaries for the next 27 years). It had its users' backs in policy fights – standing up for Net Neutrality and the right to use encryption to keep your private data private. Even when the company made ghastly mistakes, it repented of them and reversed them, like the time it pulled out of China after it learned that Chinese state hackers had broken into Gmail in order to discover which dissidents to round up and imprison.

None of this is to say that Google used to be perfect, or even, most of the time, good. Just that things got worse. To understand why, we have to think about how decisions get made in large organizations, or, more to the point, how arguments get resolved in these organizations.

We give Google a lot of shit for its "Don't Be Evil" motto, but it's worth thinking through what that meant for the organization's outcomes over the years. Through most of Google's history, the tech labor market was incredibly tight, and skilled engineers and other technical people had a lot of choice as to where they worked. "Don't Be Evil" motivated some – many – of those workers to take a job at Google, rather than one of its rivals.

Within Google, that meant that decisions that could colorably be accused of being "evil" would face some internal pushback. Imagine a product design meeting where one faction proposes something that is bad for users, but good for the company's bottom line. Think of another faction that says, "But if we do that, we'll be 'evil.'"

I think it's safe to assume that in any high-stakes version of this argument, the profit side will prevail over the don't be evil side. Money talks and bullshit walks. But what if there were also monetary costs to being evil? Like, what if Google has to worry about users or business customers defecting to a rival? Or what if there's a credible reason to worry that a regulator will fine Google, or Congress will slap around some executives at a televised hearing?

That lets the no-evil side field a more robust counterargument: "Doing that would be evil, and we'll lose money, or face a whopping fine, or suffer reputational harms." Even if these downsides are potentially smaller than the upsides, they still help the no-evil side win the argument. That's doubly true if the downsides could depress the company's share-price, because Googlers themselves are disproportionately likely to hold Google stock, since tech companies are able to get a discount on their wage-bills by paying employees in abundant stock they print for free, rather than the scarce dollars that only come through hard graft.

When the share-price is on the line, the counterargument goes, "That would be evil, we will lose money, and you will personally be much poorer as a result." Again, this isn't dispositive – it won't win every argument – but it is influential. A counterargument that braids together ideology, institutional imperatives, and personal material consequences is pretty robust.

Which is where monopoly comes in. When companies grow to dominate their industries, they are less subject to all forms of discipline. Monopolists don't have to worry about losing disgusted employees, because they exert so much gravity on the labor market that they find it easy to replace them.

They don't have to worry about losing customers, because they have eliminated credible alternatives. They don't have to worry about losing users, because rivals steer clear of their core business out of fear of being bigfooted through exclusive distribution deals, predatory pricing, etc. Investors have a name for the parts of the industry dominated by Big Tech: they call it "the kill zone" and they won't back companies seeking to enter it.

When companies dominate their industries, they find it easier to capture their regulators and outspend public prosecutors who hope to hold them to account. When they lose regulatory fights, they can fund endless appeals. If they lose those appeals, they can still afford the fines, especially if they can use an army of lawyers to make sure that the fine is less than the profit realized through the bad conduct. A fine is a price.

In other words, the more dominant a company is, the harder it is for the good people within the company to win arguments about unethical and harmful proposals, and the worse the company gets. The internal culture of the company changes, and its products and services decline, but meaningful alternatives remain scarce or nonexistent.

Back to Google. Google owns more than 90% of the search market. Google can't grow by adding more Search users. The 10% of non-Google searchers are extremely familiar with Google's actions. To switch to a rival search engine, they have had to take many affirmative, technically complex steps to override the defaults in their devices and tools. It's not like an ad extolling the virtues of Google Search will bring in new customers.

Having saturated the search market, Google can only increase its Search revenues by shifting value from searchers or web publishers to itself – that is, the only path to Search growth is enshittification. They have to make things worse for end users or business customers in order to make things better for themselves:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

This means that each executive in the Search division is forever seeking out ways to shift value to Google and away from searchers and/or publishers. When they propose a enshittificatory tactic, Google's market dominance makes it easy for them to win arguments with their teammates: "this may make you feel ashamed for making our product worse, but it will not make me poorer, it will not make the company poorer, and it won't chase off business customers or end users, therefore, we're gonna do it. Fuck your feelings."

After all, each microenshittification represents only a single Jenga block removed from the gigantic tower that is Google Search. No big deal. Some Google exec made the call to make it easier for merchants to buy space overtop searches for their rivals. That's not necessarily a bad thing: "Thinking of taking a vacation in Florida? Why not try Puerto Rico – it's a US-based Caribbean vacation without the transphobia and racism!"

But this kind of advertising also opens up lots of avenues for fraud. Scammers clone local restaurants' websites, jack up their prices by 15%, take your order, and transmit it to the real restaurant, pocketing the 15%. They get clicks by using some of that rake to buy an ad based on searches for the restaurant's name, so they show up overtop of it and rip off inattentive users:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

This is something Google could head off; they already verify local merchants by mailing them postcards with unique passwords that they key into a web-form. They could ban ads for websites that clone existing known merchants, but that would incur costs (engineer time) and reduce profits, both from scammers and from legit websites that trip a false positive.

The decision to sell this kind of ad, configured this way, is a direct shift of value from business customers (restaurants) and end-users (searchers) to Google. Not only that, but it's negative sum. The money Google gets from this tradeoff is less than the cost to both the restaurant (loss of goodwill from regulars who are affronted because of a sudden price rise) and searchers (who lose 15% on their dinner orders). This trade-off makes everyone except Google worse off, and it's only possible when Google is the only game in town.

It's also small potatoes. Last summer, scammers figured out how to switch out the toll-free numbers that Google displayed for every airline, redirecting people to boiler-rooms where con-artists collected their credit-card numbers and sensitive personal information (passports, etc):

https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/phone-numbers-airlines-listed-google-directed-scammers-rcna94766

Here again, we see a series of small compromises that lead to a massive harm. Google decided to show users 800 numbers rather than links to the airlines' websites, but failed to fortify the process for assigning phone numbers to prevent this absolutely foreseeable type of fraud. It's not that Google wanted to enable fraud – it's that they created the conditions for the fraud to occur and failed to devote the resources necessary to defend against it.

Each of these compromises indicates a belief among Google decision-makers that the consequences for making their product worse will be outweighed by the value the company will generate by exposing us to harm. One reason for this belief is on display in the DOJ's antitrust case against Google:

https://www.justice.gov/opa/press-release/file/1328941/download

The case accuses Google of spending tens of billions of dollars to buy out the default search position on every platform where an internet user might conceivably perform a search. The company is lighting multiple Twitters worth of dollars on fire to keep you from ever trying another search engine.

Spraying all those dollars around doesn't just keep you from discovering a better search engine – it also prevents investors from funding that search engine in the first place. Why fund a startup in the kill-zone if no one will ever discover that it exists?

https://www.theverge.com/23802382/search-engine-google-neeva-android

Of course, Google doesn't have to grow Search to grow its revenue. Hypothetically, Google could pursue new lines of business and grow that way. This is a tried-and-true strategy for tech giants: Apple figured out how to outsource its manufacturing to the Pacific Rim; Amazon created a cloud service, Microsoft figured out how to transform itself into a cloud business.

Look hard at these success stories and you discover another reason that Google – and other large companies – struggle to grow by moving into adjacent lines of business. In each case – Apple, Microsoft, Amazon – the exec who led the charge into the new line of business became the company's next CEO.

In other words: if you are an exec at a large firm and one of your rivals successfully expands the business into a new line, they become the CEO – and you don't. That ripples out within the whole org-chart: every VP who becomes an SVP, every SVP who becomes an EVP, and every EVP who becomes a president occupies a scarce spot that it worth millions of dollars to the people who lost it.

The one thing that execs reliably collaborate on is knifing their ambitious rivals in the back. They may not agree on much, but they all agree that that guy shouldn't be in charge of this lucrative new line of business.

This "curse of bigness" is why major shifts in big companies are often attended by the return of the founder – think of Gates going back to Microsoft or Brin returning to Google to oversee their AI projects. They are the only execs that other execs can't knife in the back.

This is the real "innovator's dilemma." The internal politics of large companies make Machiavelli look like an optimist.

When your company attains a certain scale, any exec's most important rival isn't the company's competitor – it's other execs at the same company. Their success is your failure, and vice-versa.

This makes the business of removing Jenga blocks from products like Search even more fraught. These quality-degrading, profit-goosing tactics aren't coordinated among the business's princelings. When you're eating your seed-corn, you do so in private. This secrecy means that it's hard for different product-degradation strategists to realize that they are removing safeguards that someone else is relying on, or that they're adding stress to a safety measure that someone else just doubled the load on.

It's not just Google, either. All of tech is undergoing a Great Enshittening, and that's due to how intertwined all these tech companies. Think of how Google shifts value from app makers to itself, with a 30% rake on every dollar spent in an app. Google is half of the mobile duopoly, with the other half owned by Apple. But they're not competitors – they're co-managers of a cartel. The single largest deal that Google or Apple does every year is the bribe Google pays Apple to be the default search for iOS and Safari – $15-20b, every year.

If Apple and Google were mobile competitors, you'd expect them to differentiate their products, but instead, they've converged – both Apple and Google charge sky-high 30% payment processing fees to app makers.

Same goes for Google/Facebook, the adtech duopoly: not only do both companies charge advertisers and publishers sky-high commissions, clawing 51 cents out of every ad dollar, but they also illegally colluded to rig the market and pay themselves more, at advertisers' and publishers' expense:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue

It's not just tech, either – every sector from athletic shoes to international sea-freight is concentrated into anti-competitive, value-annihilating cartels and monopolies:

https://www.openmarketsinstitute.org/learn/monopoly-by-the-numbers

As our friends on the right are forever reminding us: "incentives matter." When a company runs out of lands to conquer, the incentives all run one direction: downhill, into a pit of enshittification. Google got worse, not because the people in it are worse (or better) than they were before – but because the constraints that discipline the company and contain its worst impulses got weaker as the company got bigger.

Here's the podcast episode:

https://craphound.com/news/2023/10/23/microincentives-and-enshittification/

And here's a direct link to the MP3 (hosting courtesy of the Internet Archive; they'll host your stuff for free, forever):

https://archive.org/download/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_452/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_452_-_Microincentives_and_Enshittification.mp3

And here's my podcast's RSS feed:

http://feeds.feedburner.com/doctorow_podcast

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

#pluralistic #podcasts #enshittification #google #microincentives #monopoly #incentives matter #trustbusting #the curse of bigness

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danikamariewrites · 10 months

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i just read feysand x reader housewife and I’m wondering if i can request a cassian x housewife reader. like imagine being stressed ab work and then you talk to cassian ab it and he says that you shouldnt worry over things like stressful work, and that you should do whatever makes you happy. so like imagine then reader stays at home and foes whatever she wants woth no stress, maybe she has a business that sye runs so she isn’t burnt out like she used to be and it is all in her speed, maybe she loves writing and starts doing it since she didnt have time before. And omg imagine beefy daddy cassian coming home and he’s so big omg and gives her a hug with his ripped juicy arms and he’s just so manly omg🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤 sorry if this is confusing i genuinly lost my mind thinking ab this

At Home

Cassian x reader

A/n: @thehighladywrites has inspired me to write this plus I’ve been dreaming of daddy Cass all week so this is a treat for all of us lmao

Warnings: fluff 🤗

Cassian hated how stressed you were about going to work and how tired you were at the end of the day

It killed him to see you like this

Cass didn't want to stress you out by talking about it so he waited until you came to him

You came home early from work in tears, your mascara all smudged and all sniffly

You went right to Cassian's office and he dropped everything he was doing to comfort you

He took you out for a nice dinner that night to finally propose what was on his mind, stay home and let him take care of you

It was a dream of Cassian's to be able to take care of his mate and now he has the chance

Rhys certainly paid Cassian enough

By the time you sit down for dinner you still have a pout on your lips from earlier

After ordering a bottle of wine and your favorite appitizer Cassian reached across the table to hold your hands with his large ones, "Sweetheart, I want to talk to you about something."

You look up at him, hope twinkling in your eyes. "What's up Cass?" you askk quietly

A small smile pulls at his lips. "I hate seeing you this upset. And I know you like working and being independent, but what do you think about quitting and letting me take care of you? Of us."

You thought you were going to break down again. Not trusting your voice you nod as you pull your lips into a tight smile. "Please," you whisper out

Cassian was ecstatic that he could finally take care of everything for you

In bed that night you went over what would happen from here on out. Cassian would pay for everything, even if it was just a fun purchase you wanted. You are free to spend your days however you want. If you want to stay home and do nothing, great!

If you wanted to start training he'd take you with him

If you wanted to pick up a new hobby Cassian would support you

You went to workout/train for a few weeks with Cassian and the Valkyries for a few weeks until it started to not be fun

You were able to grow closer with the rest of the IC now that you stopped working

Feyre and Mor became two of your best friends

You were even invited to join Valkyrie book club which you loved

Reading all of these books inspired you to start writing yourself

At first it was just for fun and you brought it to book club for the girls to read

Then they started encouraging you to write for real and see if you could get published

Cassian fully supports this and loves how creative you've been. It makes him so happy to see you like this

Another perk of staying home is that you get to spend more time with Cassian

You were super attached to him in general

How can you not love that beefy, sweet, tall illyrian he just has so much love to give and you bask in it

If Cass is away at the house of wind for the day you bake his favorite cookies and you started making delicious dinners for you two

Your favorite part of the day is when Cassian comes home

You run to greet him at the door, "Cassie!" "Sweetheart!" he crouches down a little with his arms open waiting for you to throw yourself at him

He hugs you tight to his chest and spins you around, putting you down and kissing you, telling you how much he missed you

When Cass works from home you sit in his office with him, mostly on his lap becuase you two can't stand to not have your hands on each other

You love being wrapped up in his big arms

sometimes you squeeze and poke at his biceps for fun just to see him flex them as a reaction

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #cassian acotar #cassian fanfic #cassian imagine #cassian headcanons #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian headcanon

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strwbmei · 10 months

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hihi meimei!! :33 m here to share my current thots for 2day, nd its ab riding mei's two abnormally huge dragon cocks u may hab the honors to continue this horny thirst ヽ(o´3`o)ﾉ (I love dragon mei au :3)

-😽 nonnie!!!! (missed u sm meimei!! kiss kiss mwa mwaaaa (っ´▽｀)っ)

I missed you too!!! This turned out way longer than I intended...

I imagine Mei would be a gentle lover even in bed, so you'd have to be the one to propose the idea to fuck her while she's in her more dragon-like form. She was understandably hesitant at first— after all, the thing she'd least want to do is hurt her previous darling. She thought you'd be able to understand why it really wouldn't be a good idea once she rested her heavy, partially scaled cocks on top of your stomach and showed you how they'd basically reach your ribs, but that only made you want her even more...

How could Mei refuse when you're muttering and begging for her to let you have both of her cocks inside; rubbing your pussy back and forth the shaft and effectively covering them in your slick? She's completely and utterly weak to you— and maybe what you're doing is selfish knowing that, but you can't help it! Just thinking of the scales and ridges rubbing perfectly rubbing against your walls and the sheer size filling you up in ways you've never been filled before has your arousal rapidly multiplying...

Seeing you so desperate and needy to have her has Mei going crazy. It might just be her primal instincts kicking in, but the sight of you on top of her cock, so wet and ready to take one, or maybe even both of them, has Mei thinking of how good you'd look with your belly round and swollen with her child. In the haze of horniness you've put her in, it doesn't take long after that for her to finally give you the green light— and when she does, you don't waste any time to sink yourself down her length. Even with how wet you were, it felt like she was going to split you open and you loved it. It's everything you've expected and more. Mei's size was on the longer side even when she was in her human form, so that certainly helped in getting you prepared for her girthy dragon cock.

It might just be because she's in her more draconic form, but you notice she's also more... feral. More animalistic and hungry; greedy for all of you. You loved Mei's gentle and tender side just as much, though at the same time, this side of her was wild, exciting, and refreshing. Don't get me wrong— she's still being gentle with her movements; her hands holding your hips and guiding you at a medium speed, but you can tell with the way she looks at you that she's holding back.

The moment your hands land on her horns, you realize you've made a grave mistake. It wasn't on purpose, you were just instinctively looking to interlock fingers like you usually do when you're having sex with her, but since her hands were busy, yours landed on her horns of all places. Let's just say that you couldn't feel your legs for the next few days...

╰┈➤ taglist ; @roninraccoon , @hedgehog666 , @dukemira , @faerierambles , @the-night-owl-blr

#・❥・strwb drabbles #hi3 #hi3 smut #hi3 x reader #smut #x reader #hi3rd #honkai impact #honkai impact 3rd #honkai 3rd #honkai impact x reader #honkai impact smut #raiden mei #mei hi3 #mei honkai #raiden mei x reader #raiden mei smut

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growingstories · 11 months

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Jonathan

Jonathan Beck, a renowned fitness influencer with a massive social media following, had established himself as a fitness expert. With his app and monthly fitness columns, he was making a comfortable living. His expertise and popularity caught the attention of Men's Health magazine, who offered him a monthly column on fitness nutrition. Jonathan's first column focused on the carnivore diet, which he thoroughly enjoyed, especially the restaurant located right below his apartment. This restaurant happened to be one of the best meat joints in town, and the owner, Berney, greatly appreciated Jonathan's positive impact on his business. The owner extended an open invitation to Jonathan to eat at his restaurant anytime.

To escape the monotony of working from home, Jonathan began writing his columns from the restaurant. Berney, being a generous host, would always bring him a substantial serving of entrecote. As weeks went by, Jonathan found himself visiting the restaurant regularly - both for his columns and to craft fitness programs for his followers. It became a gathering spot for Jonathan's followers, who would often drop by to discuss food fitness and.

The success of Jonathan's monthly column led to an extension of his collaboration with Men's Health magazine. He even landed a cover shoot and an interview. Additionally, he was given the responsibility of creating monthly meal plans for the's magazine subscribers. But, a few weeks before his photoshoot, Jonathan noticed that his abs were slightly obscured by a layer of fat.

In a desperate attempt to prepare for the shoot, he resorted to a crash diet, a practice he never endorsed on his platform due to his belief in body positivity. Miraculously, the crash diet worked, and within three weeks, his abs were once again prominently visible in the photos.

With the increasing workload, Jonathan realized that he needed assistance with his own fitness program and social media. He hired a young fitness enthusiast, Mark, to help him manage his tasks. They decided to have weekly meetings at Berney's restaurant, which meant that Jonathan's visits became more elaborate. He would start with a healthy breakfast of avocado, eggs, and steak, conduct his meetings, and then indulge in a lavish lunch, often accompanied by Berney's special cake.

Oblivious to the consequences, Jonathan's abs were once again hidden beneath a layer of fat. However, his growing popularity continued to attract more followers, and the decided magazine to offer him a prominent position as their creative director. This meant that Jonathan had to spend a few days a week in meetings with the team, while the rest of his work was carried out from Berney's restaurant. Unfortunately, amidst his newfound success, Jonathan neglected his own fitness. His belly began protruding, and Berney would jokingly poke fun at his weight during his visits. Berney graciously allowed Jonathan to sample all his new dishes, which Jonathan would eagerly devour. Meanwhile, Mark, who remained strict with his own diet, took over the task of filming workout videos.

Weeks turned into months, and Jonathan found himself completely out of shape. He casually dismissed his ex-jock physique, claiming that he was merely bulking up. One day, Jonathan crossed paths with the publishing director, Peter Stanford, who barely recognized him due to his weight gain. Peter, aware of Jonathan's love for food, offered him an enticing opportunity. He proposed a new venture called "The Big 500," a book reviewing the top 500 restaurants in the US, to be published every five years. Peter wanted Jonathan to undertake the task, which would require him to visit and review all 500 restaurants. Lured by the prospect, Jonathan accepted the offer, fully aware that it would take an immense amount of time and dedication. He shared the news with Mark, who now had additional responsibilities. To compensate, Mark received a pay raise and shares in the company. Berney, proud of their achievements, offered them a large piece of cake and champagne to celebrate.

Jonathan meticulously planned his schedule, intending to visit three restaurants each week. He would conduct his meetings remotely during the day and visit the restaurants at night. After three days in city each, he would return to Berney's to write his reviews. Berney, known for his kindness, would provide snacks to help Jonathan stay focused, and Jonathan happily indulged. The next day, Jonathan would catch up with Mark and discuss business matters. On the remaining office days, he would dedicate his time to the publishing company. Unbeknownst to him, his clothes began straining against his expanding waistline.

Recognizing the need for speed, Jonathan decided to review six restaurants per week, thereby saving time for lunch reservations. This meant that every day he visited two restaurants, enjoyed Berney's snacks, consumed airline food, and indulged in office donuts. The consequences were dire. His weight started ballooning, and rumors began circulating about his physical transformation. Determined not to give up publically, Jonathan resumed working out at the gym, utilizing his own fitness program. However, he soon realized that he had become incredibly out of shape. The strain on his clothes reminded him of his former fit self, and he resolved to get back in shape. With determination, Jonathan hit the gym every morning for a month, striving to reclaim his previous physique. He pushed himself, even though he struggled to perform basic exercises.

One day, while in the office, he stumbled upon a box of supplement bars and decided to forego his usual snacking habits. Oblivious to the fact that they were weight gainers, he enjoyed a few and took some home. He requested more bars from the office, assuming they were a healthier alternative to airline food. The office promptly ordered a large supply. Jonathan continued devouring the bars during his travels, unaware of their purpose. Weeks passed, and his clothes grew tighter once again. He struggled even to tie his shoes due to his expanding belly. His arms had also grown significantly, which he attributed to his intense workouts. It was only when Mark noticed him eating another bar that he questioned Jonathan's choice. Mark, having read an article about the bars, informed Jonathan that they were indeed weight gainers.

Jonathan halted his consumption of the bars, but his calorie intake remained high. Unwilling to abandon his goal of completing the book, he continued on his path, accepting the progressive weight gain as a cost of his ambition. Months flew by, and after two years of relentless work, Jonathan had successfully met his deadline. His book was ready for release. Despite the challenges of his weight, he felt a sense of accomplishment. Peter, satisfied with Jonathan's performance, made him the creative director of the entire publishing company and offered to buy his fitness platform.

Jonathan weighed his options and eventually accepted the offer, understanding that this transition would provide a more structured and manageable pace. After dedicating himself wholeheartedly for two years, he had achieved his goals and set himself up for a successful future.

#fictionalweightgain #maleweightgain #maleweightgainstories #weightgain #weightgainstories #fictionalstories #wg fantasy #wg fiction #exjock #ai artwork #aiweightgain

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solarwonux · 1 year

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Business Proposal || knj (6/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love Warnings: slow burn, angst, talks about sexual assault, talks about being drugged, nosey people, rumors, boxing, drinking. Rating: mature, 18+ w.c: 11.7k Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

a/n: hello, I'm here after thousands of years. Thank you so much for sticking around I know I can't upload as often as I used to :( Lololol and I couldn't wait unti tomorrow^^ Also this chapter was very heavy for me to write, but I'm happy that I did it! That's all lmk your thoughts and I will see you when I see you :))

AO3 || Masterlist || series masterlist

prev || next

It took you almost three hours to fall asleep.

You felt all giddy and excited for the morning to come, so much so that you woke up before your alarm without a complaint. Everything just felt so much simpler and brighter. You didn’t groan when the morning light peeked through the little slits between your blinds. You didn’t hesitate to push the white duvet from your body. And you practically skipped to the kitchen where Namjoon danced to his own rhythm as he prepared what seemed to be kimchi eggs.

At least that’s what your nose was hinting at. If you weren’t so distracted by the pleasant tangy smell, you would’ve noticed it the second you walked through his kitchen arcs. Maybe you would’ve had enough time to keep your jaw from hitting the floor, but it was like he sensed you despite your slow movements and turned around the moment you walked in.

“I made you breakfast.”

There was Kim Namjoon in all his perfect glory. Smiling. Shirtless. With a pair of black sleeping shorts hanging just below the navel of his abs, a light brown apron to protect him from the gas stove. You couldn’t see everything but you could see enough, and if enough was what was making you shake, then you were thankful you couldn’t see everything.

“Did you sleep well?” He cocked his head to the side as he plated your eggs on one of your ceramic plates with painted clouds on it. The stark contrast between his decor and yours was starting to morph into each other, slowly becoming perfect molds of the other and you had only been living together for a day.

“U-um, yeah my mattress is much more comfortable than my old one so I slept like I was on a cloud.” You said in a soft whisper as you slowly made your way to the barstool. Once you were seated you looked at the absolute feast in front of you.

Perfectly scrambled eggs with kimchi, a side salad, peanut butter toast topped with a perfect circle of sliced bananas, and a small bowl of tofu soup. This wasn’t like any breakfast you could ever make yourself. It was more than you deserved.

Suddenly you felt like crying. It’s only been a day since your compromise. You didn’t expect him to do a complete one eighty in the last twelve hours since you last saw each other. You were expecting small arguments here and there before they slowly died down. The domesticity of it all was slightly overwhelming, but you didn’t get enough to react like you would’ve liked because he was clumsily working his way through the kitchen again. Turning on the stove and mixing ingredients right before your eyes.

He looked so comfortable, effortless. You felt like a misplaced doll.

“What are you doing?” Was what came out of your mouth instead of the ‘thank you’ you had been mindlessly repeating over and over in your head. He chuckled, turning his head giving you a sweet dimpled smile.

He had to be messing with you. Not even the Namjoon you knew before acted like this. He never smiled wide enough to make his dimples appear and his eyes turn into little half moons. Unless it was towards his mother, who always made him turn into the sweet little boy she helped raise along with her son.

“I’m making us lunch. I figured we should clear out the fridge as much as possible to restock with new produce.” He shrugs and turns his attention back to the lilac frying pan he was using. Before you can answer with whatever obscenity your frontal lobe was currently developing. He spoke up again, “I’ve finished most of it already but when you’re done eating can you cut up the kiwi’s for me.” He finishes, continuing his task.

Certainly you’ve woken up in a different dimension. Are you still dreaming? This was most definitely not the same Namjoon who you were arguing with just a couple of days ago. Maybe it was his long lost twin brother that his entire family had kept hidden until now. Though, that theory would’ve been debunked with the amount of times you spent at his parents house doing Jungkook’s laundry for him. Maybe he fell last night and hit his head against one of his curated art pieces.

Come to think of it, you did wake up to the sound of something falling last night at around three in the morning.

That just had to be it!

“Are you okay?”

Namjoon stops and reaches his arm over, circling his fingers around the black knob to turn off the gas. He waits for the flame to die down before placing the pink rubber spatula on one of your cat holders. He turns around slowly, moving a bit to the side and leans against his perfect marble counter. One hand resting firmly on his hip.

He tilts his head to one side and narrows his eyes at you in suspicion. “I’m perfectly fine, why do you ask?” He replies through a forced gritted smile. His calm and composed demeanor falters for a second and you almost let out a sigh of relief.

There had been no alien abduction last night. The last and final theory you had come up with. The Namjoon you knew was still present, and he was slightly annoyed.

“You’re not being you?” You confess pushing your eggs around on your plate.

Namjoon scoffs and pushes himself away from the counter and begins to untie his apron. You’re in the middle of your first bite, when you see him throw it onto his kitchen island. Your eyes almost fall out of their sockets when you finally get a glimpse of his faint abdominal muscles. But what really has you swallowing fast so you don’t choke on your food is his chest. And the bulging muscles of his arms as he crosses them in front of him.

Did he turn off the air con? It is suddenly really hot in this kitchen.

“I don’t think you know me well enough to make that assumption.” He speaks up, taking you out of your trance. Right, you think. This isn’t time to shamelessly ogle at Namjoon’s body. You’re in a serious conversation? At least that’s the direction it seems to be heading. Whatever type of conversation you could currently be having with Namjoon, his tone of voice and accusatory glance triggers something in you. You’ve forgotten the compliment about how his hard work at the gym is paying off. The heatwave is replaced with a wave of defense and you’re up in a seconds ready to stand your ground in a battle that you have unintentionally started.

“I’m just saying Namjoon, you’re acting completely different than the person you were just last night.”

Namjoon shakes his head, grabs hold of the pan and sets it on top of an old kitchen rag. “You wanted a compromise, this is me trying. You wanted to be friends, so I’m treating you like how I treat all of my friends.” He mumbles and opens a lilac tupperware and begins to plate the spinach spaghetti aglio he had been making this entire time.

Defeated, you sit back down on the barstool. So, this is what being Namjoon’s friend was like. What were you all of those years ago?

It’s that realization that has you standing again, almost knocking down the barstool, catching Namjoon’s attention whipping his head in your direction, a confused look on his face. The conversation isn’t over yet, and he guesses it’s because that stubborn part of you that always needed to have the last word is still in there. He finds it just as infuriating as he did all those years ago.

“So you basically beg all of your friends to marry you?” You start, the accusation isn’t enough to fire up Namjoon. That is until you open your mouth again. “You kiss all your friends too.” You mumble, looking around his kitchen, taking in the modernism and avoiding the glare he sends your way.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” He speaks up. His voice is laced with annoyance. You always knew how to hold a grudge and you always knew how to bring up past mistakes in order to win an argument.

“Do you cook breakfast and lunch for all of your friends? You give them all jobs and help pay for their student loans? Oh, do you offer them a place to live or a separate house too? Or do you only do that for the woman you pay to be with you?” You accuse, rolling your eyes in annoyance. It’s a petty accusation and definitely out of pocket, but that’s what he does to you. He brings out the nasty little monster that still holds a grudge against him for what he did to you all those years ago.

Namjoon has had enough. The anger sizzles inside of him. He slams the lid of the tupperware down against his countertop, making you jump. He turns to face you slowly, moving his chest up and down in a poor attempt to stay calm. The peaceful and easy morning you thought you were going to have has moved out of the vicinity. As well as the deal the two of you made last night, and you’re the only one to blame.

You just can’t ever keep your mouth shut.

“What exactly are you referring to?” He seethes, taking deep breaths as he grips the corner of his countertop with one hand.

“I can’t help but think you have ulterior motives. Nothing about this makes any sense to me. I haven’t been working on campus for long but I have already heard the rumors questioning your character. And Jungkook has continuously ranted about the revolving door of women that would come in and out of your apartment when the two of you lived together. I just can’t begin to understand why I’m your last choice, why I’m the one in this position when you and I both know that there’s someone out there way better. Unless you want something more from me otherwise why would you have kissed me?”

Namjoon closes his eyes, taking in your words. If he’s being honest with himself he also doesn’t understand his motives. He knows why he is doing this. At least the half that involves his parents. But you’re right he doesn’t know why it had to be you in the first place. Sure, it was the simpler choice and he was running out of time, but if he really wanted to he could’ve bought himself some time to find the person he truly wants to share his life with.

Could it be that deep down he wants it to be you?

He can’t stand you accusing him of stooping so low though. He doesn’t know why he kissed you. It was an impulse that he has never felt in his entire life. Yet, he feels so angry that he can’t think clearly, because he’s spent years dodging the accusations at work, and Jungkook’s gossiping.

“You think I am paying you for sex?” He says in disbelief.

You shrug, pushing in the barstool. “I mean it wouldn’t be the first time that you pay someone for sex, according to your colleagues. Which I hold no judgment for but I am not that type of person.”

“And you believe that nonsense?” He chuckles dryly, shaking his head. “I thought that you out of all people would not believe those rumors. I have never done that in my life, because like you just said I am not that ‘type of person’. I will also never do that to you.” He argues, taking slow steps in your direction, reducing the air that’s separating the two of you.

“Why? Because I am undesirable?” You spit out. Throwing out the words that hurt you the most all of those years ago.

He shakes his head, rounding the corner to the bar and stands right in front of you. “No, that’s not why? I–”

“Then why? Namjoon I don’t understand I–”

“I respect you too much.” He interrupts looking at you with pleading eyes. It’s a look you have never seen on him before. It’s new, it feels foreign and it makes you doubt his words even more. Especially when you know that he hasn’t shown any ounce of respect for you since before he rudely barged into your life again.

You click your tongue, turning your head to the side. His gaze burns with something you can’t decipher. “You don’t have to lie, there’s no one around.”

“I’m not lying.” He fights back his voice full of hope. “You don’t have to believe me but–”

“Of course I don’t. Not only have you been a complete asshole since we met again but years ago you threw my feelings for you right to my face. You called me crazy, undesirable, and unlovable. And in that same vein you confessed to me.” Your hands quickly go up to cover your mouth. Your eyes bulge out in surprise. The little secret you had been holding in for the past ten years escapes you before you can even stop yourself. Nobody knew what had really happened after your tumultuous fight. It was something you were going to take with you to your grave.

Namjoon is stunned. He’s stuck between calling you out on your bullshit and believing you. Truth be told he doesn’t remember anything else from that night. Apart from the fight he had with you, and the words he said very clearly.

Could it be that there has always been a missing piece to his story. One that he never bothered to look for because he didn’t know it existed. Until now.

If he’s being honest, Namjoon never understood why you cut all ties with him from one day to another. Sure, he was brutal in his choice of words. He wanted to get his point across but he was always so much better at writing them rather than saying them. The second he opened his mouth both of your worlds turned upside down, and he was full of regret. As a last ditch resort to salvage the remaining spark of your friendship because back then he couldn’t picture a life without you in it–and maybe that’s transversed to now–he apologized. He wrote you a letter, explaining his thought process and that he valued you a lot more than you could ever imagine, but nothing came out of it.

Did you even get his letter?

He figures you did but choose to walk away for good. It’s something that he’s kept locked next to his heart. It’s a hurt he’s never fully healed from and it’s why he acts so cold towards you. Believe him, he’s been suffering since Taehyung’s party. But if what you’re saying is true, then he might finally understand something that has been keeping him up at night whenever he gets into his head.

“I what?” His ego is faltering as he watches your eyes water with frustrated tears. Every negative thought he’s ever had of you since then to make himself feel better for his heinous words and unproclaimed apology, makes him look even worse than before.

Your shoulders drop, “You came back. You apologize, and told me that you had loved me all this time.” You sniffle, wrapping your arms around yourself tightly. “You were drunk, so I didn’t believe you. I thought you were playing a joke on me, but I made myself believe that if you could tell me exactly that when you woke up the next day then I would forgive you.” You take a deep breath in, closing your eyes tightly. “I never got to know the truth because Jungkook called me. He was furious, asking if I had seen you. He let it slip that the girl you had picked up that night refused to leave and was trashing the apartment.” You take a step back from him. “So, I can’t believe you when you tell me that you respect me because if you did then you wouldn’t have told me that you were in love with me after you told me I could never be loved, and not after you had slept with someone else.” You finish, bringing your hand up and whipping away the lone tear that you had let slip.

The truth was finally out.

The real reason why you never talked to him again. And the reason why your self-esteem crumbled into tiny pieces of glass. You hated that time. You slipped into bad habits, looking for validation in different crowds that never had your well-being in mind. You spiraled out of control. You let go of your bodily autonomy because for the longest time you thought you weren’t worth it. Until the night in which everything was taken from you. Both Jungkook and Jimin were there to witness the crumpled up piece of paper that you had become. It’s why they’re so protective of you because seeing you so helpless and paralyzed with fear was horrifying.

They haven’t voiced it out loud yet, but you know they don’t want you to go through this thing with Namjoon. Although, he wasn’t the culprit for your distrust in men. He was the reason as to why you went down a road that you didn’t belong on.

So, as much as you would like too, because guarding yourself with high walls is tiring. You can’t let them down. You lost so much for such a long time. Keeping them up is the only way you can protect yourself.

“No, I’m–no, I didn't do that.” He starts letting his hands fall against his sides. Your attention is back on him and you’ve never witnessed someone look so lost. “I would’ve remembered, I never drink that much.”

“So, I’m lying?” You scoff, throwing your hands in the air. As much as you're angry and want to continue fighting for your side. You’ve held on for so long to that little secret and now that it is out. You feel more exhausted than before.

Namjoon shakes his head. “I didn’t sleep with anyone that night. I would remember if I did.” He says more to himself. His head feels like it's being rewired a milliseconds at a time. Everything he’s thought up until this point feels foreign to him. He’s angry at himself, at Jungkook, and you. He’s trying to recall the events of that night. You told him you loved him with a starry look in your eyes. He turned you down in the worst way possible. He left. He went to the little speakeasy bar located in between a chinese-korean fusion restaurant and a lighting shop, by his apartment. He was approached by someone they talked a little and then he hits a black wall. He suspects that’s where the missing puzzle piece is hidden. He truly doesn’t remember ever going back to see you. Only that the next day he woke up woke up with the worst hangover of his life and Jungkook’s silent treatment that lasted more than two months.

“I really don-“

You lift a hand in defeat, and Namjoon’s words fall dead in the air. You let out a big sigh. “You don’t have to come up with any excuses to spare my feelings. What’s done is done. You don’t have to do all of this either.” You signal to your now forgotten breakfast and half packed lunch. “We can continue to pretend outside of this apartment, but we don’t have to try so hard to like each other and build something between the two of us. I’m sorry for suggesting it in the first place. I thought it would make things a lot easier but now I see that it won’t.” You say almost sadly before finally turning around and walking away.

It’s frustrating because even now he still lets you have the last word. He has so many things he wants to say, but his words are stunted with shock.

If Namjoon was born lucky, we would’ve stopped you from walking away from him again. He would’ve tried to convince you to call out of work so that the two of you could figure this out together. He’s never felt more serious about something before in his life–except for his research. He needs to know what happened during the second half of that night, and you’re the only one who seems to know.

Sadly, he wasn’t born lucky, and he loves to take the easy way out. He’s stuck watching your back, while his feet stay glued on the ground. He’s stuck with having to go about his day as if his world hasn’t just been flipped upside down by you.

There’s a rumor going around in the Literature/ Philosophy/Rhetoric department of HYBE U.

Professor Kim has stormed out of his classroom.

It was a lecture on aesthetics. Ancient aesthetics to be exact. It is one of his favorite’s to teach because he can talk about how beauty can be found in tragedy. It’s an immerseful lecture, it’s inspiring at all times. Namjoon loves to get lost in the philosophy of it all. You could almost say that he’s obsessed with how they believed that for one to be beautiful on the outside, they would need to be vicious on the inside. It proposes the questions:

Is beauty reflective of one's inner self or of what they desire? What lengths would you go to, to achieve that beauty?

Except on Monday for Namjoon’s first lecture of the day, he never made it that far. He never got the chance to hear his students' input, because he walked out ten minutes after walking into the lecture hall. He didn’t give anybody a warning. He didn’t pack up his stuff, he just stormed out, leaving behind a bewildered room of about twenty something pupils.

He hasn’t been seen since.

“I heard that one of Professor Kim’s parents died.”

“I heard that he was coming out of a weekend bender, I mean did you see how he was dressed. It’s like he just rolled out of bed.”

“I heard that it was a cocaine bender. I mean none of those crazy philosophy professors are sober.”

“Actually I heard Professor Kim’s fiance left him. She took advantage of him and then walked out on him this past weekend.”

Normally, contrary to popular belief you wouldn’t have thought twice about the rumors going around campus. Sure, you did tell Namjoon that you believed the rumors that were going around about him sleeping with multiple of the staff. Deep down you knew they weren’t true. At least to a certain extent, you won’t fault him for entertaining his desires.

Now as you’re making your way through the department the whispers only get louder from both faculty and students. The vicious stares only keep zeroing in the closer you get to your office, and if you have to hear one more person say something along the lines of: “Oh, she’s the one that took all his assets, look at her prancing around like she owns the world.” You will go insane.

Have they never seen a couples brawl before?

Though it does bother you to a certain extent. You didn’t leave him. You’re very much still with him. The only difference is the dynamics between the two of you. You only assume you’re being brought into this because you took a taxi to work rather than riding with him.

“I heard Professor Kim caught her with his step-brother, looks like she’s interested in good for nothing guys.”

You stop dead in your tracks, clutch onto your laptop case with an iron grip. Furious is an understatement you’re seething. You could ignore the things being said about you, knowing they would die down the minute they see the two of you together, but not the things being said about Jungkook.

Seriously, did they never fight with their significant other?

Yet, now that Jungkook is being thrown into the mix. You’re seeing red. So, instead of continuing your route to your office, you quickly turn, glaring at the person who just spewed the accusation, and make your way to Namjoon’s office.

You’re walking so fast that you’re there in seconds. You stare at the gold name plate in front of you. Dr. Namjoon Kim, it reads. You don’t let yourself admire it for a second longer because now you have an urgency that feels overwhelming. You knock so hard, your knuckles turn red. He opens on the third knock. His blue dress shirt is untucked, his tie forgotten on his desk. There are papers everywhere, yellow notepads sprawled all over the floor.

Jungkook is sitting at his desk, scrolling through the desktop.

Now you understand why Jungkook was suddenly being brought into the mess.

Namjoon is stunned, he’d been so out of it for the whole day, that he had forgotten that you worked with him in the same building. He’s been hiding out in his office, sending mass emails to all of his students, letting them know that due to ‘unforeseen circumstances’ he will be canceling all of his classes today.

Then, Jungkook showed up. His confusion lasted for a few seconds when he remembered that his brother’s sudden appearance wasn’t out of the blue.

Somewhere on his desk calendar were the words ‘Jungkook computer’ penciled in. It had completely slipped his mind that he had contacted the younger to set up the new desktop computer he had just bought. It required a set of skills that Namjoon d didn’t posses, and the only language he hasn’t bothered to learn, unlike his brother. The computer genius, Jungkook’s strongest forte. Those three semesters of computer coding classes didn’t go to waste. Only the amount of money he spent on them. He left them behind right before his last semester to earn a two year degree in photography, along with his parent’s disappointment.

“Can I come in?” You tilt your head gesturing to the inside of his office. He’s still looking at you wide-eyed, lost, and confused. Almost like he doesn’t quite understand why you are here. He thought he read the signs right this morning when he went to get you from your room to ask if you still wanted a ride to work. It was empty so he immediately took that as you not wanting to talk to him for a while.

Now, you were here standing in front of his office. It wasn’t even lunch time, and he knows you’ve already finished your last lecture of the day. Usually at this time you’re in your office waiting for him to finish, to go home together. It’s a routine that didn’t take long for him to memorize, especially because he had your work schedule printed out and pinned next to a picture of his family on the gray bulletin board of his office.

He is confused because you do want to talk to him now?

He doesn’t realize that he’s only been staring at you like a deer caught in headlights, without saying a word. His train of thought only breaks when you open your mouth again to ask the same question as before. “Um, yeah sure. Sorry about the mess. I think I lost some student papers.” He swallows, scratching the back of his head, as he steps to the side to let you in. He takes a deep breath before closing the door behind him, avoiding all the intrigued stares looking into his office in hopes to get a peak of the situation to add on to their fabricated stories.

“Hey Bunny, I was going to stop by your office to set up your new desktop in an hour.” Jungkook says, his eyes don’t leave the wide screen in front of him to know that you’re absolutely confused.

“I don’t have a new computer, Kook.” You say, walking up to Namjoon’s desk and setting your laptop in front of it.

Before Jungkook can answer and add onto your suspicions. Namjoon speaks up from behind you. “I bought you a new one when I bought mine. They both came in today so I asked Kook to come set them up since he’s the computer genius.”

You whip your head to face him, making him cringe. He hates that you look equally as shocked and annoyed at him. Truth be told he wasn’t thinking when he placed the order. He saw a good deal and took it. Thought that it would be a nice welcoming gift for you. Plus, speaking from experience, HYBE U’s faculty computers were so old that they never backed up anything. He’s lost so many hours of research in the years that he’s worked here.

“You didn’t have to do that Namjoon.” You sigh, shaking your head and making your way to one of his guest chairs. “But we can talk about that later because now that the two of you are here. We have something to discuss.”

This catches both of their attention. Namjoon stops looking through the old files in his filing cabinet, and Jungkook pauses his typing, indicating that you have their full undivided attention.

“Namjoon walked out of his lecture this morning. So, people are assuming the worst of you. And I’m guessing because someone saw Jungkook they’re also saying that I’m in some sort of love triangle with the two of you. Not to mention I am now a gold digger.” You let out a frustrated sigh, looking between the two of them. They look unfazed and it triggers something in you.

“My favorite one is the one where Namjoon is an alcoholic slash drug addict, slash mafia member.” Jungkook shrugs before returning to his typing, humming underneath his breath as he pulls up windows on windows of numbers and letters you can’t begin to understand.

You roll your eyes crossing your arms in front of you. “Don’t listen to them, they have nothing better to do than to assume.” Namjoon says, closing the filing cabinet and then moving on to the stacks of papers on his office floor. He sits down crossed legged, furrowing his brows as he begins to sort through them.

You scoff, “I understand that this is something that you are used to, but I’m not. My life was peaceful, rumor free before I got involved with you again. Now, I’m a gold digger, and a heartbreaker, and a mafia leaders wife.”

Namjoon slams the stack of papers he had been holding down on his carpeted floor. He’s been on edge since your big reveal this morning. He understands your frustration, but what is he supposed to do? Go out into the lobby and tell everyone that the real reason why the two of you are arguing is because ten years ago he confessed that he was in love with you and doesn’t remember a thing. And that the reason why things don’t make sense in your relationship is because your engagement isn’t real, and that the two of you are only together for personal and financial gain. Truthfully, it will only fuel the rumors more. And from personal experience, he’s learned to ignore them because eventually they’ll die down.

“There’s nothing we can do, but ignore them. They’re baseless and people will forget about them by tomorrow.” He pleas, running a stressed hand through his hair. He really needs to find those student papers. He didn’t realize they were missing until he came back from his lecture this morning. This stress is only adding onto the stress of the missing memories from ten years ago. He wants the whole world to hide away until he can figure shit out for himself.

“Maybe if the two of you stopped fighting people will stop making up rumors. I heard the two of you came to work in separate cars.” Jungkook suggests with a shrug. It only adds to your annoyance.

“There’s a reason for that.” You grumble.

“I’m sure there is but you guys are doing such a shitty job at this whole engagement thing. So, you better sort your shit out before it somehow reaches mom and dad.”

You roll your eyes and move to sit on the floor in front of Namjoon. Your heart aches to see the stress lines form all across his forehead. You wish you had been a bit nicer to him this morning, but the adrenaline from your reveal was doing most of the talking. If what he claims to be true. That he doesn’t remember anything then your heart aches for him. You know what it’s like to have pieces of your memories go missing. You’ve been where he has been before, and it takes a lot of brain power and willpower to not give up.

“Do you need help?” You whisper, crossing your legs in front of you. Namjoon lifts his head, nodding at your question before moving onto the next stack of papers. He’s never been this careless before. He’s always been so meticulous with his work and again if the university’s online submission system wasn’t so faulty he wouldn’t be having this problem.

“Do you remember the last time you had them?”

Namjoon shakes his head, running a hand down his face. “They turned them in last week, I swear they were on my desk, and I don’t remember taking them anywhere.”

You nod, starting to sort through another stack of papers. You have no idea what you’re supposed to be looking for. The fault of essays is that they’re all formatted the same way thanks to university guidelines. But you guess giving him the illusion that he has an extra pair of hands and eyes helping him makes him feel more calm.

“What day last week?”

“Thursday.”

A lightbulb goes off in your head. “Joon, didn't you come to my office right after your lecture on Thursday. I think you might’ve left them there. I haven’t been to my office yet, so I don’t know but we can check.”

Namjoon feels like a wave of relief has passed through him. He’s up instantly and full of hope as he extends his hand for you to take. “I hope you’re right, I really need to start grading them before their final papers come in.” He says, while you take his hand and you let him pull you up.

“Looks like we’re going on a family field trip through a sea of gossip.” Jungkook says from behind the two of you. “I’m done setting up your computer, I need to get to yours Bun, Joon and I have a gym session in an hour.” He says looking down at his smart watch, swiping through the tiny screen.

It makes you shudder at how official he looks. You’ve never seen him so calculated and organized before.

“You’re going to the gym?” You tilt your head as Namjoon interlaces his fingers with yours and opens the door to his office. You don’t question it, knowing it’s probably because it will put a rest to the rumors once and for all. It makes you tingle a little bit even though you know it’s all for show.

Namjoon nods as he steps out with you. “I forgot to tell you, but I can drop you off at home and then pick you up to go to the grocery store.”

You shake your head, following his lead as he moves towards your office with ease. Avoiding all the whispers and glares going on around you. “That’d be a waste of time and gas. I can just go with you to the gym and then we can go from there.”

“I don’t want you to get bored.” He’s sincere about it. He knows you’re not a fan of gyms ever since you were young. He knows you hate the smell of them and the testosterone that gets released into the air by all the men that are trying to compete with one another. Seokjin’s gym is no different.

You shrug, and open the door to your office. “I’ll just run on the treadmill and then bother Seokjin until he kicks me out.” You grin, stepping in. He follows behind you along with Jungkook who has a shit eating grin on his face.

Jungkook closes the door behind him. “Good job team, that’s more like it. You two make a very good and fake loving couple. I just saw all the jealous glares following the two of you. I can assure that all those rumors bothering you today will be forgotten by the time we all leave. Or worse, considering I heard some gasps and the accusation of us being a throuple thrown out there. ” He shrugs and lifts his hands up for a high-five, which the two of you ignore, with a roll of your eyes.

“People need to learn how to whisper.” You shake your head in disbelief before untangling your fingers from Namjoon’s. You spot the box of your new desktop on one of your guest chairs, and you guess it had been delivered to your office by the mail department while you were in class. As annoyed as you are about Namjoon spending his money on you. You’re still grateful he even thought of you in the first place.

Before you can admit defeat and give him your thanks, Namjoon is making a beeline to your empty bookshelf. A stack of papers, neatly placed on one of the shelves. He picks them up and lets out a sigh of relief. He must’ve placed them there while he was waiting for you last Thursday. It’s no wonder you hadn’t really spotted them because they weren’t in your line of sight.

“Found them?” You ask, stepping to the side as Jungkook soundlessly moves behind you to get to your desk.

“Yes, fuck, thank you for helping me.” Namjoon says. “Is it okay if I go back to my office to start grading them?” His question throws you off guard. Why would he need your permission? You nod, and he rushes out a quick thanks before he’s disappearing again, leaving you behind with Jungkook.

For a few minutes there’s an air of silence, apart from Jungkook’s angry mumbles as he assesses the mess of cables. Until he speaks up from under your desk. “You know, the rumors bothered him more than he let on.”

You turn around quickly and walk to where he is kneeling. “What do you mean?”

“Before you came in, he was huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf and mumbling about how everyone was stupid for assuming things.” He shrugs, “I think he didn’t want you to worry so much, which is why he told you to ignore them.”

You don’t answer. Instead, you sit down on the floor beside him, watching as he untangles and unplugs cables. “Did you hear the one about him selling his left kidney to the black market?”

Jungkook laughs, looking at you from over his shoulder. “It was so specific, I honestly couldn’t ignore it. I mean why not the right one?”

You laugh, taking the cable he tosses at you.

Namjoon can feel the droplets of sweat roll down the sides of his face. He hates sweating. Scratch that he hates that his body naturally runs hot, resulting in sweating even when standing still, It gets worse during the summer months. Though, in this instance he isn’t just standing. He’s in an intense sparring match with Jungkook.

After leaving your office. He managed to tidy up and grade at least three papers. The hour was up before he knew it and he was driving the three of you to Seokjin’s gym. The session started off simple, but then he saw that you had changed into gym clothes and for some reason his brain short circuited. He found himself pushing himself more when you looked in his direction and trying his best to get your attention whenever it wasn’t on him.

He doesn’t necessarily understand where this animalistic desire to hunt came from. He just knows that he probably looks like those annoying jocks with an inflated ego. And now you’re behind the gym’s front desk, laughing at something the owner is saying. His pit bubbles up with something undesirable and his hits only get stronger.

He wants your attention.

“Want to tell me why the two of you fought this morning?” Jungkook says out of breath, his words muffled from the navy mouth guard. He steps a few feet away from his brother, hands up protecting his face.

Namjoon understands every word, and he knows his brother had been dying to ask since he stepped into his office earlier that day.

“It’s nothing.” Namjoon shrugs, moving in to land a punch on his shoulder only for it to be blocked by the younger. Sometimes, Namjoon really hates sparring with Jungkook. He can’t begin to understand how the younger’s reflexes are so fast. It’s like he can predict where he is going to hit before Namjoon even thinks about it. He prefers Seokjin, but he’s chatting you up behind the counter. This thought has him charging forward again and Jungkook blocks it again.

Fuck, why is he so good at everything?

Jungkook, steps forward landing a punch to the side of Namjoon’s ribs, and he lets out a huff of pain. “It didn’t seem like nothing, it wasn’t like those petty fights the two of you have been having. It's more right?” He side steps, dodging Namjoon’s hit, and he lets out another frustrated groan. “You’re too slow.” The younger chuckles.

“Maybe you’re just freakishly fast, idiot.” He rolls his eyes, before taking a step back. He lets out a big sigh shaking his head. Wordlessly letting his brother know that he needs a moment. If this was a different day Namjoon could go hours without stopping. But every now and then his body asks for a break.

Jungkook nods before removing one of his gloves and mouth guard. “Are you going to tell me or will I have to live in the dark forever.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“So, I can help of course.” Jungkook replies with a hint of arrogance, a smirk making its way onto his face.

Namjoon sighs as he sits down against the wall, taking off his gloves and setting them to the side. Jungkook joins him, bringing his knees up to his chest, patiently waiting for his brother to answer.

Sometimes it’s funny how things work. Who would’ve thought that the two brother’s from different mother’s would one day grow to depend on each other so much. Despite Jungkook being younger than him, he somehow always had helpful advice.

“Apparently told her that I loved her the same night I told her I could never love her.” He whispers, picking at the gauze on his hands. He ignores Jungkook’s shock, it’s enough to know that he didn’t know and that truly the only one who knew was you. Before he can let his brother get a word in he continues to talk. “I don’t remember that, I don’t remember any of it and it’s scaring me.” He admits, bringing his knees up to his chest.

“What do you mean you don’t remember that. It seems like a pretty big thing to just forget.” Jungkook offers just as equally as confused as him.

“Apparently you called her asking about my whereabouts because my one night stand wouldn’t leave.” Namjoon adds and it triggers a memory Jungkook forgot he had. He does remember being furious at his older brother. Not only because earlier that night you had called him to tell him everything. It only added to his anger when he found a strange woman on his couch.

“How do you not remember that?” Jungkook questions again, sitting up straighter. He remembers the anger he felt then. He remembers picking up his brother at your parents house. And he remembers how drunk Namjoon had been, which only made matters worse because he was uncontrollable and winning like a baby as he hauled him into their shared car. He remembers your tear stained face, and your hardened features. He remembers being afraid of never seeing you again because of his brother and his mistakes. He also remembers everything that spiraled out of control after that night. All the nights you were physically and emotionally in pain. He remembers it so vividly, that he’s so annoyed that his brother doesn’t.

Was that moment so insignificant that he was able to forget it in seconds?

Namjoon sighs, closing his eyes. “I swear on mom and dad’s life, on my career, on my fucking life Kook that I don’t remember anything after I left her house the first time. I don’t remember ever getting home from the bar or bringing somebody home.” There is a mess of emotions going on inside of him, but the main one is fear.

Jungkook turns his head to face his brother. He can see the inner turmoil written all over his face, as much as he felt anger back then. He can’t help but feel a little guilty. What if after all these years his anger was misplaced?

“What are you implying?” Jungkook whispers.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to know. I’ve gone through so many scenarios in my head.” He sets his head on top of his arms resting on his knees. The only thing that he can come up with that makes sense is the one thing he wants to ignore. “Maybe I was drugged.” He whispers. In seconds Jungkook’s arms are around him and he’s bringing him closer. He didn’t know that one day he would’ve had to go through this again, let alone with his brother.

He feels angry again, this time at himself for not thinking twice about everything, and to the people who keep hurting the ones he loves. “I’m sorry Joon, I’m sorry for being such an ass to you. I should’ve–”

“You couldn’t have done anything Kook. You don’t normally think about things like this happening to men, let alone people who look like me. I also don’t know if that’s entirely true.”

“It doesn’t matter Joon, someone still took advantage of you.”

“You don’t know that. Maybe that’s just me making shit up in my head to understand why I can’t remember the second half of events that night.” Namjoon sighs, sitting up straight and unwraps the gauze around his knuckles. “Don’t feel sorry for me.”

Jungkook sighs, shaking his head. “Joon, one day you’re going to realize that you don’t have to fight all of your battles on your own. Whatever happened that night, whatever made you lose your memories that night. You don’t have to go through that alone. You don’t have to put yourself through that agony. You have people around you that will always be there for you.” He says, spotting you laughing at something Seokjin was saying, your short ponytail bouncing while you shake. It took so long for you to smile and laugh like that, and he never wants that smile to disappear again. “You don’t have to make up excuses or say it’s not a big deal. If you believe that’s what happened to you, knowing yourself, then that’s what happened. It might be too late to go back to that time and fix our wrongs, but we can start fresh from this moment on. I know will understand and want that too.” Jungkook finishes, nodding in your direction.

Namjoon follows his younger brother's gaze. He catches you staring at them. At him. The second your eyes meet, you send him a smile, ignoring whatever nonsense Seokjin is spewing at you. It’s a silent conversation, only the two of you understand. He knows that even though things from this morning still need to be resolved, that Jungkook is right.

“When did you get so wise?” Namjoon looks over at him.

Jungkook, sits up taller, puffing his chest out, out of pride from the subtle praise. He flexes his arms in front of him before responding. “Mom says it’s because this isn’t my first life.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes before standing up, grabbing his equipment with him and extends a hand for him to take. “Whatever, I’m going to have to cut our session short.” He pulls the doe-eyed man up with ease, before glancing over his shoulder where you’re now organizing the gym’s merchandise. No doubt that you have somehow been recruited by the owner himself to do the thing he finds most annoying. He smiles wide, looks at his suspecting brother.

“I have to go grocery shopping”

As gross as it sounds, Namjoon didn’t bother changing out of his gym clothes. He was in such a hurry that all he did was wet his hair in the sink and wipe the sweat from his face. He acknowledges that he might’ve smelled a little too much like a man, but he wouldn’t know because you haven’t made a face or brought it up. You’re simply scanning the aisles, and referring to your phone while he pushes the cart next to you.

“What meals do you want to have this week?” You ask, as you stop walking out of curiosity. He had been so hyper focused on the way that he might’ve smelled that he forgot to ask you that on the car ride over. Now, he is drawing a blank. He’s sure he looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Pasta?” He tilts his head to the side, making you laugh. You should’ve known the only thing he’s really confident in making is pasta. When he told you that Seokjin had been teaching him how to cook, you expected more knowledge of different meals. Not more knowledge on different kinds of pasta.

“How about I decide and you just continue to help me push the cart.” You suggest, giving his shoulder a pat and then start walking again. He forgot the other reason he had been so distracted, until now. You also hadn’t changed from your workout clothes. Not that it mattered because you hadn’t actually worked out. Apart from the thirty minutes on the treadmill before getting distracted by Seokjin, and being roped into odd jobs around the gym.

There should be no reason why your ass looks as good as it did in those wine colored leggings. Or why they somehow hugged your waist perfectly. And why is your black shirt so tight? He feels troubled.

“I’m thinking that we can make a bunch of power bowls for lunch this week, and then I don’t know what for dinner.” You say with a pensive hand on your chin.

“I can make mandu soup one night? Mom showed me how to make it a few years ago.” He adds on, looking at the frozen packs of different types of dumplings. Personally, his favorite ones are the kimchi ones. “But Seokjin also wants me to start fasting, so maybe I can just make you dinner.” He ends, looking over to his side where you’ve taken it upon yourself to open one of the freezer doors. He smiles when you shudder at the sudden cool breeze hitting your arms.

“I can just fast with you.” You shrug, showing him the mixed bag of dumplings. He nods in approval and you hum while setting it down in the cart. He watches as you pull your phone out of the band of your leggings, and check something off from the list on your phone.

Namjoon starts to push the cart again once you step to the side. He feels you come beside him, and from the corner of his eye he sees you place your hand on the cart handle. A little too close to his. “You don’t need to fast with me,” he stops for a second to gather his thoughts. He’s finally beginning to learn that with you he needs to do that before he starts to spew out nonsense. “I don’t want you to fast with me. You don’t need to and it helps me if I make food for you.” He shrugs, looking ahead because he’s positive that he catches the little warmth that hides behind your indifferent stare; he will melt in this frozen aisle of the grocery store.

“Fine, I’ll do a baby fast after I eat dinner, no more midnight snacks and cookies, and icecream.” You decide, and he can’t argue with that because once you have your mind set on something, he knows he won’t be able to change it.

“We can have cookies and ice cream on the weekend.” He pouts, while you open another freezer door and take out two bags, one of frozen pieces of korean pumpkin, and another of frozen pieces of sweet potato. He makes a face, knowing they’re his least favorite but now he understands why you suggested making power bowls for lunch this entire week.

Seokjin must’ve gotten into your head and your grocery list.

He sees you pause before setting the bags into the cart. The wheels visibly turn in your head and you look at him brightly. “Can we make a pit stop before going home?”

Home.

To Namjoon the word feels so foreign and familiar coming from your mouth. If he’s being honest he’s never pictured building a home with anyone in his life. So, why did it feel so right when you said it? He must be trippin. He must be still running on the endorphins of his workout. He must still be thinking about the past Namjoon who confessed without knowledge. He must still be trying to justify his actions to find an answer, because there’s still a little part of him that doesn’t believe he ever said he was in love.

In his thirty years of life he’s never been in love. He can’t begin to explain what love feels like because he doesn’t think he’s ever experienced it. Yet, there’s the part of him that is yelling at him, annoyed for ignoring all the signs that were already there. Ever since this morning he’s been in a constant battle with himself. Teetering over the edge of letting himself feel again and keeping all of his feelings locked up like a constipated kid who had too much chocolate before dinner.

He can’t deny that it will just be easier if he lets go, but he wasn’t lying when he told Jungkook he was scared. Scared that something had been taken from him and he didn’t know about it for years. Why must life and love be so complicated? Why couldn’t you have one without the other? He’s always been a simple man. A simple university professor for the later half of his life. And here he was contemplating his life altogether like he was going through the midlife crisis he had when he was twenty five again.

It’s all so tiring, but he supposes this is karma for dedicating his life to philosophy. He overthinks everything and runs himself in circles looking for answers only to end up with more questions.

Sigh.

Namjoon realizes he didn’t answer your question, when you shrug and keep walking. He has to catch up to you with only a few steps before he’s back next to you. Your hand comes up to the handle with practice and you look up at him. The same question burning behind your curious stare.

“Yes, where do you want to go?”

You smile brightly, clapping your hands in front of you. “There’s a really small fruit stand by the apartment, the ahjussi there sells the best sweet potatoes in the world.” You explain with such joy that he can’t help but feel excited as well. “I want to eat only that for dinner. I’ve really been craving it for weeks now. Jungkook used to bring me some whenever he came over after visiting you.”

Namjoon’s mouth opens in understanding and he nods. “Well, you can’t just have that for dinner. You need to eat something else.” He tilts his head and begins to push the grocery cart again.

You pout letting out a whine. “But I literally don’t want anything else except for that. I’ll even eat all three. He always gives an extra one. So, I’ll eat all four.” You follow behind him, as he lets out a chuckle.

“I know you well enough to know that if you do end up eating all four you’ll complain about your stomach hurting for the rest of the night. I’ll make you some tteokbokki.” He offers, pulling open a freezer door and taking out frozen bags of rice cakes and fish cakes.

You wave your hands in front of him. “We are totally derailing from our grocery list.”

“That’s what happens when we come to the store hungry and without a plan.” Namjoon overrides your arms and puts the bags into the cart basket.

You huff. “I did have a plan.”

“The one Seokjin gave you is not a plan but more like a work in progress.” Namjoon counteracts before moving. “Come on, We still need to get vegetables, fruits and some sort of protein. Unless you want to eat a whole weeks worth of frozen food.” He lifts an eyebrow almost as if he’s challenging you.

You roll your eyes, hitting his back lightly. “Next time, I’m going to make the best grocery plan in the world so that you won’t be able to infiltrate it.” You state before walking in front of him, your face furrowed in determination.

It's at this moment, in which Namjoon realizes that maybe letting go wouldn’t be such a bad thing. He’s already been halfway there since the infamous kiss and his talk with Jungkook. He might as well just go in head first fearlessly. Something tells him that at the end of the day it will be worth it.

So, he laughs and follows you, like it’s second nature.

In the end, Namjoon didn’t start his fast. In fact he was so hungry that he practically begged for you to split the sweet potatoes with him. He knows you won’t finish all four and they smelled so sweet that it made his mouth water.

Now, you’re both sitting in front of his coffee table, picking at the almost empty pot of rice cakes. Namjoon had practically scraped it clean with the left over rice he had fished out of the fridge. There’s an almost empty bottle of wine in between the two of you as you silently digest your meal.

“I think we should talk.” You look over at him bringing your knees up to your chest, hugging them. You’ve already showered and changed out of your workout clothes sporting an old t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Your hair is still slightly wet, curling at the ends due to the humidity because Namjoon refuses to turn on the aircon until he’s about to fall asleep to conserve electricity.

Namjoon hums, setting down his chopsticks on a napkin, he turns his body to face you, signaling that he agrees with a nod of his head.

“Can I start?” Namjoon tilts his head in question, setting down his chopsticks on the holder in front of him. You weren’t expecting for him to want to go first, especially because he always hated confrontation. He always hated admitting fault, something the two of you have in common. But for some reason it always came easy when it was just the two of you.

You nod your head as a signal for him to continue talking. He takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry for telling you all those things back then. I regretted it the moment they came out of my mouth. I wanted to apologize but I was too much of a coward and I ran away.” He confesses in one breath, bringing his knees up to his chest.

Your heart feels like it's been pierced by a thousand arrows. Each one making the dent deeper. This was the apology you had longed for for years. Not the handwritten one he sent with Jungkook. You had dreamed about it and wondered if you would have ever given him a second chance if he simply just looked you in your eyes and apologized. Yet, the logical part of you knew better. It knew that even if the apology came in any sort of form, you wouldn’t accept it.

The damage was done and you were already spiraling into your black hole with no way out. Until that one silver lining after the unfortunate incident in which you called Jungkook sobbing to pick you up from the stranger's house.

The apology you ever so wanted to hear out loud, meant nothing. Though, that didn't mean you didn’t appreciate it. It was just a little too late.

“I can’t accept your apology Namjoon.” You start, holding your hand up to stop him from speaking up, his mouth hangs open. “But thank you. It took so many years for me to let it go and accept that you will never be in my life again.” You chuckle. “It’s ironic because here we are.” You signal to your surroundings. “I won’t lie you hurt me so much but I ended up hurting myself more. I took your words to heart and spent countless nights thinking I was unlovable but never truly believing it until someone showed me I was only a disposable body to them.” You take a deep breath, closing your eyes.

Namjoon lets out a shaky breath. “Y-You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He whispers, unsure if he can give you a hug because things are starting to make sense.

You shake your head. “It’s okay, I can talk about it now.” You whisper, your voice faltering in the end. You clear it and continue. “I went out with some people I thought were my friends. The night started out fine, we went for dinner and then decided to hit some clubs. By the third club, I was so drunk that I only remember pieces of it, but I remember enough. I approached him, I made out with him. He told me he and his friends lived outside of the city and if I wanted to come over. I said yes. My friends saw us leaving and they tried to stop me but then pushed me to go, so I did.” You tighten your hold around your arms a little more. “Every time I think about that night. I only remember all the times I could’ve avoided the outcome. We didn’t leave right away. We waited for his friends on some stairs and there was this ajumma who kept telling me not to go, to get away from him. And I didn’t, I stayed. I got in the car, I went into the apartment. I sat on his couch. I then laid in his bed. One of his friends came into the room and he asked me if I was okay and that if I wasn’t he would call me a taxi to go back home, but I declined. That was my last out and I decided to stay.” You rest your chin against your knees, blinking back tears. Though, you’ve partially healed from this moment. It still sits fresh in your mind. You don’t remember his face or his name but there are nights in which your head isn’t screwed on right and you remember the acid burn of his touch.

“It didn’t happen right away, but when it did I first begged him to stop because he wasn’t wearing protection. He kept going and going, while I yelled. He finally stopped when he was pleased and my stomach was stained with him. He got up, went to the bathroom, came back and fell asleep. I laid there paralyzed, feeling the naive girl in me break with every breath that I took. I didn’t know what to do. I somehow convinced myself that it was okay, and I didn’t call your brother until the following morning. I don’t really remember if I slept or not. I don’t remember getting up and getting dressed. All I remember is waking up in your brother's bed with him, Jimin and Tae sleeping on the ground.” You finish, running your thumb underneath your eyes to wipe away the remaining tears.

It’s amazing how every time you talk about it, it always feels like you can start anew. Like you’re still subconsciously carrying that weight and it only gets lighter when you let it out. Still, there’s some part of you that is terrified to look over at Namjoon. You aren’t sure if you should’ve said anything or if it was too soon.

What you don’t expect him to say is, “Can I give you a hug?” Because despite his heart being able to hold different kinds of what he thinks could be love. Affection and comfort is not his strong suit. So, you nod and melt into his arms when they circle around your shoulders gently. It feels ghostly. Like they’re not really there because he’s afraid you’ll break. But he’s always been full of surprises and lately as much as you hate to admit it he’s been surprising you a lot. Both in good and bad ways.

He rests his cheek on top of your head and closes his eyes, sniffling. He started crying eons ago. His eyes were already watering from the start and yet he still has nothing to say. “I’m sorry, you were never unlovable. I shouldn’t have said that.” He whispers, “You were the most precious person in my life at the time and I was afraid of losing you, but I guess I did so anyway. I hate that I wasn’t there for you, and I know that if I hadn’t said what I said, you wouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place.” He whispers into your hair, finally letting go of his fear and hugging you tightly.

“It’s not your fault Joon.”

“And it’s not yours either.” He counteracts, twinkling his fingertips down your arm, his hand encases around yours, spreading your palm to fit his fingers in between the spaces of your own. “I’m sorry for kissing you the other night and being such an asshole about it after. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know.” You grin, sniffling.

Namjoon sighs, before finally intertwining his fingers with yours. I’m sorry for telling you that I loved you and then not remembering it. But please believe me when I tell you that I didn’t sleep with anyone that night I really don't remember ever bringing somebody home. I don’t know what happened, if I was drugged or if I really drank to the point of blacking out, but I really don’t remember.” He says almost begging towards the end. You hold his hand tighter and nod your head in acknowledgment.

The strings of your heart start being plugged like the strings of a guitar that is out of tune. You hope with everything in your being that nothing like what happened to you happened to him, because you know what it feels like. You know what it feels like to lose that part of you and spend years looking for it. Only to realize that it’s gone and never coming back. Only to realize that the one thing you can do is let go and build it up again piece by piece. This time stronger.

“I’m sorry, Joon, I don’t know if we will ever know but I can be there for you if you ever do end up remembering something.” You hold him tighter and he does the same with you. You stay like that basking in the silence that’s grown to be a sort of comfort in the past few hours. You forget about all of the fights and snarky comments. Except for the one prying question you’ve had lingering in the back of your mind.

“Can I ask you something?” You tilt your head to the side, his face is so close to yours that you can still smell the wine and kimchi lingering in his breath.

“Anything.” He grins, moving his head a little up to give himself a little more view of your eyes. They’re twinkling like the midnight skies the two of you used to wish the city had. He never found the stars with the amount of light pollution from all the skyscrapers, but he always found them in your eyes.

His heart jumps.

“Did you really mean it that night?” You begin, “That you loved me.” You whisper the last part so low that he’s thankful the house is silent because otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to hear you.

Namjoon is at a crossroads. He’s unsure of what to say or what the correct answer should be. Yet, he doesn’t want to lie, and remembers the promise he made tonight with Jungkook sitting by his side.

Let go.

“I loved you the minute we sat in that coffee shop, mourning over our unfortunate break ups while sharing that stupid cake.”

For the second time since entering each other's life, both of you give in. Instead of him being the one to move first. It’s you.

You hesitate, until he nods in approval and finally you kiss him.

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diyahatnight · 1 year

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Genshin men head cannons

Warnings : Small warning. Complete fluff and a little suggestive!

Pairings: Venti, Zhongli, Ayato, Childe, Cyno, Xiao, Diluc, and Itto as your boyfriend/ husband.

Any audience

Summary: These are just head cannons and and how I think they’d actually act if they were your boyfriend.

Notes: This is a modern au with phones and sending text messages. Please excuse my grammar mistakes <3

Venti would send you random pictures of stray cats while he’s casually strolling around Mondstat.

Before Venti preforms on his Lyre, he would send you videos of him playing that specific song so he can get your feedback.

Venti is constantly drunk so he sends you drunk texts very often. That’s when you know it’s time for you to go and walk him back home.

Zhongli likes to spoil you with the money he does not have. Before you wake up he’d go out and get you coffee and danishes for breakfast. But because he’s old and needs his beauty sleep you still wake up with him by your side with your sleep mask on, but food on your night stand.

Zhongli never has his wallet on him, so the one time he took you on a date and actually payed, the entire restaurant applauded like he just proposed.

Zhongli loves you enough to let you play with his long hair even though it’s not professional. What’s professional about letting your wife touch you anyway? (definitely loves you enough to put a ring on it!)

While Ayato is busy with work he’d send some guards to check on you while you’re out on a walk in Inazuma.

The way Ayato proposed was weird. He sent a guard to do it with an expensive ring and note reading “(imagine me down on one knee) will you marry me my love?” you said yes obviously but you didn’t understand why he couldn’t do it when he came home.

When Ayato is getting ready for work, you would see him in the bathroom with your headband on to keep his hair out his face while he is doing his skin routine.

Childe would send you photos of him pulling his shirt up to show his abs and his pants pulled down enough to see his hips and his re growing happy trail. Messages read “Is it orange down there too?” and he replies with “You should know by now;)”

Childe makes his Fatui co workers set up cute dates for the two of you. He either beats them up or gives them money.

Childe likes to be little spoon.

Cyno texts you to tell you what time he gets off and when he gets home y’all are sleeping together. You text and ask him “baby what do you mean by sleep together?” he replies with “Whatever you want it to mean, i do as you please.”

When Cyno first met your family he made a joke and your father absolutely loved him and his dad jokes.

Cyno didn’t confess to you before you two started dating. Candace had to force him by telling him that she will hide his tcg cards.

Xiao loves it when you touch him. Anywhere. Even though he knows his Karmic debt can harm mortals he knows you’re different so he doesn’t warn you as much.

Xiao doesn’t like when you do commissions on your own so he’ll ask Venti to watch over you for him if he can’t.

Xiao is new to love so he is trying his best. He’s just happy you are patient with him.

Diluc Likes it when you play in his hair and put it in a ponytail for him.

While Diluc is closing up the winery he sits you on one of the counters and makes you wait for him to finish cleaning up.

Once Kaeya switched Diluc’s grape juice with red wine. He kept asking for more without realizing, and he came home drunk. After taking a warm bath with him you two sat on the couch as you babied him.

Itto let’s you know how much he loves you by sending pictures of him beetle wrestling and saying “Fighting for my one and oni” it’s corny but cute.

Itto doesn’t wear shirts often so you tried to get him to wear a dress shirt and it nearly ripped off of him.

Because Itto stays shirtless he’s constantly cold and sick “My extremely large man baby.” is your name for him in your phone because he acts like he’s dying when he’s sick.

I hope you guys enjoyed! i’m probably gonna do genshin girls or genshin 4 star men! :)

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geekgirles · 9 months

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Something Like You

Summary:

There were many things Branch expected from being forced to go on a date with the winner of Brozone's latest contest: boredom, forced smiles, awkwardness, the looming possibility that he might meet his end tonight at the hands of an obsessive fan...

Never in a million years would he have expected falling in love with her, however. Or the many other surprises that meeting would entail.

Word count: 8959 words

Pairings: Broppy, BrandyxBruce

Read on AO3

As he wriggled in his seat in a futile attempt to make himself comfortable, his fingers drumming impatiently on the mushroom table, all Branch could think of was one thing:

He sincerely hoped Spruce—or Bruce, if he went through with it and changed his name—and Brandy didn’t last.

At first he had been ecstatic when his brother told him and their siblings the news. How could they not be happy for him? He had finally found a girlfriend who seemed to like him beyond his role as Brozone’s Heartthrob! Moreover, one that had accepted his proposal to marry him! That was all Spruce could ask for ever since he hit puberty and trolls started noticing him, and vice versa.

Sure, Brandy wasn’t even a troll to begin with—truth be told, Branch wasn’t even sure what she was—, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she made his big brother happy. Even if she towered over all her in-laws and the lucky couple wasn’t even sure if they could have kids together, it was okay. Because Branch had never seen Spruce as happy or in love as he was with Brandy. And he should know; he had been seeing his second-oldest brother change partners almost as often as he worked on his exquisitely chiselled abs since he was a baby!

And now he had finally found the one whom he wanted to settle down with…

At least, that was how Branch had felt before the terrible fate that awaited him dawned on him.

Boy, did Spruce leave behind a string of broken hearts! Seeing all the sobbing, heartbroken fans who wailed after him once it had been officially announced Spruce had entered a serious relationship and would no longer be going on dates with the winners of Brozone’s numerous contests, a part of Branch couldn’t help but be slightly alarmed at John Dory’s reaction to it. Such a calm, collected demeanour in the face of such a major shaking of their established status quo did not match the eldest brother’s usual control freak nature. At all.

Even though he never particularly cared about sales—just as well, seeing as those contests and other Spruce-related paraphernalia made up about 75% of the band’s income—, John Dory was a well-known perfectionist. Branch could distinctly remember his very first tour as a baby. John Dory almost blew a gasket when they couldn’t reach the Perfect Family Harmony!

Even today, Branch knew that, if it hadn’t been for Floyd intervening, Brozone would have disbanded that night for good.

Which was all the more reason to grow unnerved at his nonplussed reaction to his younger brother publicly announcing he was officially off-the-market and, though he would still be Brozone’s Heartthrob, had explicitly entered ‘you can look, but you can’t touch’ territory. It was so out-of-character of him, all four younger siblings had convened to have Floyd use his psychology training to talk to John Dory and figure out what was going on.

“Looking back, I really should have seen this coming…” Branch grumbled quietly to himself with a roll of his eyes.

It wouldn’t be until relatively recently that they would come to understand the reason why John Dory was taking Spruce’s decision so well. Sure, John Dory’s role as The Leader meant he was usually too busy for this sort of thing anyway; and Clay had long written the whole experience off after the last fan thought it would be a good idea to sign him up on Open Mic Night at a stand-up comedy club to perform, seeing as he was The Fun Guy and all…; and Floyd, aside from only really meeting up with a very specific side of their demography, could get overwhelmed easily by the experience, so he couldn’t really take on Spruce’s role, either.

…which left Branch as the fill-in for their dear Heartthrob and the prize to win in their contests. Because, why not? It wasn’t like despite his public persona as Brozone’s youngest and cutest member he, alongside Clay, could be quite cynical and hated putting up a façade for longer than necessary. Or that, like Floyd, he was quite introverted and usually preferred to spend his free time on a Friday night inside their shared bunker—which he built almost single-handedly, thank you very much—reading a good book and drinking a steaming mug of coffee in his bathrobe.

No, of course not! Putting on a fake, strained smile on his face for hours on end as he risked meeting his very own personal stalker and potential kidnapper (or murderer!) was his ideal date plan!

Did he mention sarcasm also ran in the family?

Lamenting his luck and cursing his eldest brother for the umpteenth time that evening, Branch quickly checked the time on his Hug Time Bracelet. “Quarter-to-Hug. She really should be here by now…” Putting aside the slight annoyance he felt, he ultimately shrugged it off before popping a fry into his mouth. “Then again, as humiliating as it would be to be stood up by the very person who competed to win a date with me, it’s not like I can complain. It’s way better than the alternative…”

Although Branch had to admit, the whole thing had been a little weird. John Dory had instructed him to be on his best behaviour and listen intently to what the girl (because apparently the winner was a girl—good to know, not like he cared) had to say, because of course he had. That was pretty much the drill with these dates. And yet, there was something about him that seemed…off. Almost like this was somehow more important to him than just leaving a lasting, positive impression on one of their fans.

Could it be that this girl was rich, or something? Maybe she actually spent a fortune in…in whatever it was contestants were required to do to get their date this time. Maybe she was one of Spruce’s hardcore fans and this was their one chance to convince her to remain loyal to the band even after her favourite became unobtainable. Or maybe—

“Oh, my Troll Tree! I’m so sorry I’m late! I was held up in a meeting.”

Ears twitching at the sound of the new, oddly melodic voice, Branch did his best to push down the urge to roll his eyes or make a sarcastic comment at her expense. Instead, he put on his most charming smile and finally turned to face the troll he’d be spending the next several hours with.

Only for his heart to stop at the sight of her.

He had to be dreaming, there was simply no way this was really happening. At least, not to him. For some reason, he suddenly got Perfect stuck in his head.

The troll before him wasn’t just a troll; she was a vision of loveliness. A creature so divine and angelic he couldn’t stop his eyes from quickly scanning her up and down in search of her golden halo or a pair of fluffy, white wings.

She wasn’t real, she just couldn’t be! Someone so breathtakingly beautiful only existed within the passionate, sugary-sweet lyrics they so often sang about. This girl before him was more enchanting than the subjects of Girl, Baby, Baby; Baby, Baby, Girl; and Baby, Baby, Girl, Woman combined! Frosting, her mere presence was enough to inspire the poet inside of him a thousand sonnets, let alone love songs!

In fact, she alone was pure poetry. An ode to everything beautiful and good in this world.

Her skin was the loveliest shade of pink, that which adorned the sky during the very first hours of the morning and made it a little easier to look at everything through rose-coloured glasses. In contrast, the countless glittery freckles on her face, shining even under the pod’s faint light, looked like she had quite literally reached out for the stars and used them to accentuate her blush.

Her nose, a darker shade of pink than the rest of her skin, wrinkled in the cutest way, reminding him of a small critter, as she brushed her fringe behind her delightfully round ears, almost shyly. And her hair, her bright, magenta hair that she wore loose except for a deceptively simple braided headband consisting of felt leaves and twigs, looked like silk. He suddenly had a very strong urge to intertwine his own cobalt locks around hers and test out if it was truly as soft as it looked.

She was just—

“Hi, I’m Poppy!” She introduced herself, breaking him out of his trance. She gestured at the booth he had been occupying for the last twenty minutes. “Mind if I sit down next to you?”

It took a moment for Branch’s brain to reboot itself. When it finally did, he practically jumped to his feet, startling his date—Poppy— slightly and making a few other patrons look at him oddly.

“Yes, yes! Of course!” He blurted out, a little louder than he had intended. Noticing Poppy’s slightly uncomfortable stance, he forced himself to calm down. He cleared his throat with forced nonchalance and exited the booth. Just as the pink troll was about to ask him what was wrong, he bowed politely and gestured to the seat he had just vacated. “After you, my lady.”

Looking back and forth between his gentlemanly pose and the seat he was gesturing at, Poppy couldn’t help but giggle cutely at his actions, unknowingly letting loose a hurricane of butterflies in his stomach. He was such a gentleman. There was a reason why he was her favourite.

She’d been right; he’d be the perfect choice to explain her plan to.

“Why, thank you.” She said with a curtsy of her own. Walking right past him, she got inside the booth, wriggling herself between the cushions until she made herself comfortable, not unlike Branch had done earlier.

Once she was comfortable enough, Poppy laced her hands over the table and sent a grateful smile at the blue troll watching her attentively.

Branch remained standing for a few more seconds, just committing the expression on Poppy’s face to memory. When her smile dimmed in confusion, however, he realised he was taking way longer than necessary and scrambled to sit next to her with as much dignity as he could muster.

Now that he was by her side, the smile returned to Poppy’s face. “I really can’t thank you enough for agreeing to meet up with me, Branch.” She told him honestly. “I understand you must be very busy, yet you made some time for me. Thank you so much.”

Branch almost told her it was the least he could do after how much she’d been supporting Brozone, the automatic response he gave to all their fans almost rolling off his tongue, but thankfully stopped himself. He couldn’t saddle Poppy up with every other troll who won a date with them and give her a half-hearted response; not when her mere presence made Branch feel like he was the winner. She deserved so much more.

With a boldness he didn’t know he possessed, he reached out and gently placed his hand on hers. As the pink beauty looked down in surprise, the loveliest shade of pink dusting her features and making her freckles stand out even more, Branch said, “Trust me, Poppy, the pleasure is all mine.”

If he felt like a winner before, the moment her smile widened in appreciation, Branch felt like he was on top of the world.

The loud thumping on his chest echoing in his eardrums, his own face probably turning lavender at this point, the youngest member of Brozone hurried to appear as nonchalant as possible, clearing his throat awkwardly and stammering a bit.

“I-I know this-this must be a little o-overwhelming for you.” He swallowed loudly. “B-but, you have nothing to worry about. Deep down I’m just like any other troll. One with several Double Platinum Records and over a dozen music awards, true, but just a normal troll, nonetheless.”

“Frosting!” Branch cursed to himself. “Did that sound too braggy? Does she think I’m a show-off, now? I mean, she is a Brozone fan, so she must know all that already but, still, that’s not the kind of information you just blurt out in the middle of your first date! …wait a minute. Does this even count as an actual date? What’s the actual difference between this and having a back-stage pass?”

As Branch was too busy panicking and overthinking his own words, he couldn’t help but avert his eyes, his blue irises darting back and forth the pod they were in yet refusing to land on Poppy, too afraid of her reaction to take that chance. Had he allowed his eyes to land on her, however, he would have noticed the slightly perplexed expression on her face.

“Wait, does he think I’m nervous because he’s a member of Brozone?” She blinked, not quite sure what to make of the situation. “But I’m the—!”

Before she could finish her train of thought, their waitress for the night finally arrived, ready to take their order. “Well, can I get you, you lovebirds—?” Her words got stuck in her throat when she lifted her eyes from her notepad and took a good look at her customers, mouth slightly agape as her eyes glanced back and forth from Branch to Poppy.

The troll’s own awkward behaviour was all it took for Branch to get a hold of himself. Though a little surprised at first by her reaction, it didn’t take him long to understand everything. He nodded in understanding. Of course she was taken aback. She most likely hadn’t noticed she’d be serving a member of Brozone, after all. Let alone one that was on a date—he still wasn’t quite sure if that applied to their case, but let’s call it one to keep things simple.

With a good-natured roll of his eyes, he opened up his menu. “Yeah, she’s with me. It’s no big deal.” Taking notice of Poppy’s own surprised face at his comment, he dared to be a little bold again and sent her a playful wink. The adorable little sound she made when she chuckled immediately engraved itself onto his memory. “So, yeah, I’ll have a root beer and the roasted mushroom with marshtato tots. And the lady…?”

“Will have a chocolate milkshake and some chicken finger puppets, please.” Poppy replied, handing her menu back to their waitress with a quick ‘thank you’ and a smile as Branch did the same.

That seemed to break the waitress out of her daze. “Right. Got it. Coming right up!”

“Hope that didn’t make you uncomfortable.” Branch said once their waitress was out of earshot. He was used to people losing their minds over his mere presence, but Poppy was probably wholly unprepared for something like that ever happening to her. He wanted to make sure she was okay.

To his immense surprise and slight mirth, Poppy just made a psh! sound as she waved him off, as if the mere notion was ridiculous. “Don’t worry! It’s no big deal, really. Happens all the time, am I right?”

At that last part, she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him, almost like they shared a secret. It made Branch chuckle; she probably meant she should expect that from spending time with him.

With a playful roll of his eyes, Branch leaned closer to her, his face resting on his propped up arm. “Don’t I know it?”

The two shared a small laugh at that, and Hair if Poppy’s cute giggling didn’t suddenly become the reason blood even pumped through Branch’s veins. Seriously, at this rate, that little sound she made when she laughed would kill him.

But as he momentarily got lost in his own daydreams, the pink troll’s expectant expression brought him back to Earth with a start. It took a lot out of him to keep his expression even and not show the slight panic he was feeling as realisation hit him. The one supposed to be enjoying the date was Poppy, not him! And though he was extremely grateful for getting to know her, he should never put himself before their fans’ enjoyment.

John Dory would kill him if word got out that Poppy didn’t have a good time.

Clearing his throat slightly—and lamenting, not for the first time, his suave persona only really came up when he was on stage—, he tried breaking the ice. “So, this night is all about you, Poppy. Anything you need from me?”

“Oh!” Poppy exclaimed, a little surprised by his question. Then again, he was right; there was a reason she was here, after all, and it had to do with him. Taking a minute to think about her answer, she finally said, “Well, I suppose there is something…”

For the first time since he became a member of Brozone—basically his whole entire life—Branch found himself thinking he, for once, wouldn’t be opposed to fulfilling her request if Poppy asked for a kiss.

He wasn’t that lucky. “I was wondering if you think it’d be feasible for Brozone to sing at a special event?”

Oh.

Wait, what?

“...I’m sorry?” The conversation had taken a turn he wasn’t expecting. At all.

“Yeah! I mean…” Poppy floundered for words. Maybe she went in for the kill a little too early, her fidgeting hands betraying her nervousness. “I guess I was wondering if you guys would be opposed to singing outside of your concerts. I know each of you has been trying to do your own thing aside from the band for a while now, so you don’t make as many public appearances as before anymore. And now that Spruce is officially engaged, things are probably going to be even more hectic and there’ll be more changes, so…”

Bright, blue eyes stared intently at the beautiful troll before him as she rambled. He could feel she had a point with this, she wouldn’t have brought it up if she didn’t, but Branch was struggling to figure out what it really was. His ears perked up at the mention of Bruce, his confused expression giving way to realisation.

“You’re worried about the future of the band, aren’t you?” He questioned, his tone soft and understanding.

At that, Poppy stopped talking, staring back at him with wide eyes. After a few seconds of silence, her shoulders relaxed a little as she let out a nervous giggle. “You could say that?” She chuckled again. “I’m sorry, I know I’m asking for a lot, it’s just—”

Before she could say more, Branch shushed her gently. Almost instinctively, he reached for her hand again, giving it a reassuring squeeze to get her to look at him. His heart skipped a bit when those pools of pink met his gaze, beckoning him to drown in them.

“It’s okay, Poppy. I understand.”

“Really?” She asked, her voice sounding so hopeful it tugged at his heartstrings in a way that was almost painful.

How could he not understand? Everything she said was true. Back when his brothers were teenagers and he was just a baby, then a child, Brozone was pretty much everything they had going on. Whenever they weren’t at home, taking care of Grandma Rosiepuff (and getting totally demolished at cards), they would be busy with the band. JD would organise everything—and be a tad bossy about it, of course— and compose the lyrics for their upcoming singles and albums. Spruce would work on his physique and his public relations skills, as his role as their Heartthrob meant he was essentially their face to the public. Clay would be thinking up new Fun Guy routines whilst working on the perfect choreography to go along JD’s latest song. And Floyd would be up to the hair both trying to keep the peace between his bickering brothers and adding the melody to their soon-to-be latest hit.

And of course, as Branch grew, he too ended up having his own responsibilities and obligations. His single-minded goal of building their bunker helped morph him into a troll with a natural talent for architecture, technical support, lighting, acoustics…; which he then applied to their performances. He was essentially the band’s own stage technician! And when he hit puberty and hormones started acting up, they discovered a new talent of his: poetry.

And just like that, the youngest sibling became the group’s composer, too. Not like his new position and the respect it commanded prevented his brothers from teasing him about the countless poems he was sure to recite to whoever caught his eye—looking at Poppy now and thinking back to the twenty-something poems and songs he’d come up about her already, a part of him hated to admit his brothers did indeed know him well.

Seemingly overnight, Branch ended up being the brother with the most responsibilities, even though both Clay and JD, thankfully, helped him with their respective processes. And Floyd was always there to offer emotional support, too, of course.

Point is, Poppy’s worries were understandable. The group was changing, they all had different interests now. John Dory, perfectionist tendencies aside, spent a lot of his time working on Rhonda and travelling around Troll Kingdom, even if he claimed it was to gain inspiration for new songs. Spruce was going to get married, and he already spent long periods of time helping Brandy out at her restaurant in her native Vacay Island. Clay was a licensed CPA, as into safety procedures as Branch was, and he moderated Pop Village’s Sad Book Club. And Floyd put years of mediating his brothers’ arguments to good use and underwent psychology training, as well as branched out to other genres and became the lead vocalist of an indie death metal band.

…Branch had to admit the last one took him aback more than it should have.

And with Brozone-related activities and concerts becoming more and more far and in between, it was no wonder their fans feared they might be retiring soon.

“Of course, I do.” He told her honestly, a kind smile playing on his lips. “That’s essentially my life you’re talking about!”

Poppy’s expression turned sheepish. “Oh! Well, I suppose, when you put it like that, you’d obviously understand…” She trailed off, chuckling awkwardly. Somehow, this meeting was both going exactly as she’d ever dreamed of, and not at all like she’d been expecting…

Maybe agreeing to meet up with her celebrity crush had not been the smartest move on her part. Her brain felt like mush whenever she stared into vibrant blue.

Sensing her discomfort, Branch went on, trying to ease her into the conversation. “Again, I do. But I can assure you, you have nothing to worry about; Brozone isn’t going anywhere in a long time.” Pausing for a second to think, he added, “In fact, I’d say we could really use some more impromptu performances. Show our fans we’re still here for them.”

“Trust me, I know a troll or two that would kill to see more of you guys.” Poppy added knowingly. She rolled her eyes with a good-natured shake of her head at what appeared to be some interesting memories.

Fully aware of the level of overzealousness some of their fans could reach, the blue troll gulped, feeling no inclination to know what his lovely companion was thinking about when her fond expression turned disturbed.

Finally, she dispelled whatever unsettling thoughts she was having with a frantic wave of her hands. “Anywho, I was thinking you guys might try performing in celebrations. At least, the ones that don’t overlap with your busy schedules.” She added after a beat, almost like an afterthought.

“‘Celebrations’?” Branch echoed, an eyebrow raised, intrigued. “What kind of celebrations? Because, full disclosure, John Dory is very adamant in not going back to singing for things like birthday parties, weddings, or funerals unless they’re a really big deal—like King Peppy’s fun-birthday! King Peppy’s super fun birthday party!”, he caught himself before he could say anything insensitive. Trolls did not take kindly to the mention of their leaders dying. And was it his imagination or did Poppy perk up slightly at the mention of the king? “He feels we’ve come too far to go back to our roots like that.”

Although JD’s sense of self-importance definitely played a key part in the band’s decision to only perform in their concerts or very specific events, Branch made a point to omit the fact that they weren’t exactly welcomed into such gatherings, either. At least not since he left a lasting impression on Uncle Ron Sr.’s wife during her birthday, her wedding, and her husband’s funeral…

Boy, looking back, that woman had some very intense couple of years.

Shaking his head from such thoughts, he let his gaze fall on Poppy, an action that was becoming second nature at that point, when she continued, “Yeah, I know. But I mean, do you think you guys would be opposed to singing in big events?”

“Poppy, we’re trolls. Everything we do is a big event.” He couldn’t help but deadpan. JD would surely call him out on it if he found out, but seriously, he once saw some trolls throwing a rager after realising they’d managed to divide their pizza equally, without the need to fight for the last slice.

Luckily for him, she seemed to take his words in stride, biting her lip as she giggled cutely and giving the boy band member a first row seat to the string of pearly white peeking from behind. How was it possible that this girl got more adorable by the second?

“Can’t argue with you there. But I was actually thinking about, say, performing live at the Electric Foam Parade?” She said coyly, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Branch’s jaw dropped in shock. “Are you kidding me? Of course we’d love to! The Electric Foam Parade is essentially the event of the year for musicians. Biggest show after the Trollings’ Choice Awards and the Glittery Awards ceremony!” As a wild grin overtook his face, he leaned a little closer to Poppy, his voice lowering into a whisper as if he were about to divulge some well-kept secret. “Between you and me, John Dory considers losing our spot to the TrollsTree Boys fifteen years ago to be his greatest failure.”

“Ugh, I’m so with him there!” Poppy agreed with a laugh. When she took notice of the blue troll’s questioning gaze, she hurriedly tried to correct herself. “Not on the ‘greatest failure’ part, of course. I-I-I I’m sure he did his best and you all worked very hard for it, just that finding out the TrollsTree Boys would be performing instead of you was such a total bummer.”

Branch allowed a playful smirk to tug at his lips. “Bet you refused to go the moment you found out.”

To his surprise, despite her laughter, Poppy actually shook her head. “I would’ve loved to. You know, standing with my favourite band in solidarity, as any good fan ought to do, but I just couldn’t. I was supposed to be there and couldn’t skip, you know?” She threw her head back, a groan escaping her throat. “Man, responsibilities sometimes suck, right?”

Even though Branch was nodding, as he honestly agreed with her assessment, a part of him couldn’t help but be puzzled at Poppy’s words. She was supposed to be at the Electric Foam Parade? How was that even possible? As much as any troll loved a good party, it wasn’t like they were morally obligated to attend them.

It wasn’t as if Poppy was King Peppy, for crying out loud!

Once again, his train of thought skidded to a halt when Poppy spoke up, unaware of the many questions circling around his mind. “Anyway, all the more reason to redeem yourselves and give it a try, right?” She gave a gentle nudge as she flashed him a smirk.

He smiled back. “Trust me, nothing would please my brothers more. Especially JD. And Spruce,” he added after a beat. “Oddly, he developed a sort of rivalry with the TrollsTree Boys’ own Heartthrob when his biggest fan left him for him.”

“The betrayal!” Poppy gasped, a hand over her heart.

“Tell me about it… You’d think he’d been actually dumped with the way he acted back then.”

“So? Isn’t that all the more reason to give it a try? To show everyone Brozone’s all set and ready to bro?”

“Hey, don't look at me!” Branch raised his hands up in surrender. “That’s not up to us, but rather, we’re granted the honour by King Peppy.”

“But what if you were granted the honour?” Poppy insisted, and the shimmering glint in her pink eyes betrayed a thousand thoughts going on behind them. Her body was practically buzzing with excitement, her grin stretched so wide Branch would have worried it might hurt her hadn’t he been so distracted by his heart thumping wildly in his ribcage. “Branch, what I’m trying to say is—.”

She never got to finish her sentence.

“Here you go! Roasted mushroom with marshtato tots and root beer for the gentleman, and chicken finger puppets with a chocolate milkshake for the lady!” Their waitress announced happily, setting down their food to enjoy. Smiling widely at the pair, she jabbed her thumb behind her, and for the first time that night, Branch took notice of the small stage in the centre of the room. “Today’s your lucky day; it’s karaoke night!” She sent a wink Poppy’s way. “You might get to listen to Mr. Popular over here sing you a song!”

As she left the two to enjoy their food and tend to the other customers, a grin spread over Branch’s face. She’d just given him a great idea.

Turning back to face Poppy, he found her staring down at their food in interest, the hunger reflected in her eyes. As she gingerly picked up a piece of chicken and dipped it into the honey mustard sauce—after a brief enactment of Hamlet, of course; it was only proper etiquette—, he caught her eye. Her brow furrowed in confusion when she noticed he wasn’t eating.

Taking a bite out of her food and swallowing, she asked, “Everything okay? Is your mushroom too well done, or not done enough?”

“Oh, no. It’s alright, don’t worry.” He answered, absentmindedly poking at the offending fungi with his fork. Setting the utensil aside, he cleared his throat. He could already feel his insides tingling at what he was about to do. “Hey, Poppy?” He called out to her. As soon as the captivating pink of her eyes met his gaze, he continued, “I was thinking that maybe I could do something to make your night really worth it. After all, you’re a Brozoner! It’s the least I can do to thank you for your support! It really means a lot, you know.”

The youngest member of Brozone felt an odd sense of accomplishment when her freckles got accentuated by the blush spreading across her cheeks. “Oh, Branch… You really don’t have to. You agreeing to meet up with me is more than enough already!”

She tried to brush his offer off with a modest wave of her hand. What she wasn’t counting on, however, was Branch gently taking her hand in his for the third—or was it fourth?— time that evening and looking at her like she was made out of glitter.

“Just let me take you to a better place.” He told her, his velvety voice impossibly soft.

Poppy could only nod dumbly at his request, her eyes wide and shimmering under the faint light as the handsome troll she had admired for so long wordlessly left the booth and made his way towards the little stage located in the middle of the pod. She let out a gasp. Was he really…?

As if on cue, her silent question was answered by Branch’s voice resonating throughout the space, immediately bringing all eyes on him like the superstar he was.

“Good evening, everyone! How’re we doing tonight?”

A cacophony of cheers and even cat calls answered back, making the blue troll chuckle fondly. Grabbing the mic and taking it off its stand, he spoke into the device. “I hope you don’t mind me hogging the spotlight for a little while. You see, I’m with a very special troll tonight,” as the words left his mouth, all eyes turned to follow his own gaze, which hadn’t strayed away from Poppy since they first met.

He absentmindedly noted how weird their silent astonishment at the sight of her was. Normally, when one of them went out on a date with one of their fans, trolls would be congratulating or even lightly teasing the lucky troll, but it wasn’t the case with Poppy. For some reason, they seemed surprised, but not as much as they would have been. Perhaps they were finally getting used to seeing fans around their idols?

Shaking those thoughts away, he went on. “We’re supposed to be having a good time, but I can’t help but feel like I haven’t exactly delivered. So, here’s to rectify such terrible oversight on my part.” He threw a wink the pink beauty’s way, causing the trolls gathered to squeal and swoon at the display. “This one’s for you, Poppy.”

Taking a deep breath, he let his velvety notes be carried over around the space. His tone, soulful and rich, strived to reflect his innermost feelings with each vibration of his voice. As he let himself be lost to the memory, his eyes searched Poppy’s, silently pleading for her mere presence to be his anchor and keep him grounded.

“So, many times

I thought, I held it in my hands

But just like, grains of sand

Love slipped, through my fingers

So, many nights

I asked, the Lord above

Please, make me lucky enough

To find a Love, that lingers”

It wasn’t Brozone’s most popular song. In fact, it technically wasn’t even one of their songs! At least not officially; they had never recorded it, let alone released it to the public. Despite how powerful of a melody it was, they just couldn’t bring themselves to capitalise on it.

It was the last thing they had of their parents, after all.

“Something, keeps tellin' me

That you could be, my answered prayer

You must be Heaven sent, I swear...

'Cause…”

Grandma Rosiepuff used to say their father had written that song to propose to their mother, and their parents would sing it to their precious trollings when they couldn’t sleep. Branch had been the only exception, his parents’ being taken barely a few days before he hatched. But his brothers and Grandma made sure he never forgot how much their parents loved each other and their family.

And now, something deep within his bones compelled him to sing it to Poppy. He doubled his efforts when he reached the chorus, desperate to properly convey the depths of his soul to the tantalising troll staring at him with so much awe in her eyes, it made him feel more important than a million fans screaming his name in a concert.

“Something happens when you look at me, I forget to speak

Something happens when you kiss my mouth, my knees get so weak

Could it be true, this is what God has meant for me

'Cause, baby I can't believe

That something, like you

...Could happen to me

Yeah-yeah...

Something, like you…”

It was like all her childhood fantasies had suddenly come true. Oh, how many nights had she dreamed of something like this? Of Brozone singing exclusively for her? Of Branch, her favourite by a long shot, dedicating her a song? All trolls longed for their special someone to serenade them, but should she dare believe Branch could be doing this beyond a sense of obligation given who she was?

For the moment, she chose not to care. Her eyes never leaving his dashing figure as he danced and sang his heart out on stage—all for her.

“Girl, in your eyes

I feel your fire burn (feel your fire burn)

Oh, your secrets, I will learn

Even if it takes forever...

With you, by my side

I can do, anything (can do, anything)

I don't care what tomorrow, brings

As long, as we're together”

Even as the other patrons cheered for him and swayed to the music, clearly enjoying the show and choice of song, Branch’s blue eyes were dead set on Poppy. Scrutinising her expression, her every move. She looked so happy, so touched. Almost as if this were the first time anyone ever broke into song just to let her know how utterly wonderful she was.

That wouldn’t do. If someone as enchanting as Poppy had never had anyone serenade her, what chances did the rest of us, mere mortals, have? He laced his voice with newfound intensity, a burning desire to make that pink angel feel as special as she was.

“My heart is tellin' me

That you could be, my meant to be

I know it, more each time we touch...

'Cause...

Somethin' happens when you look at me, I forget to speak

Something happens when you kiss my mouth, my knees get so weak

Could it be true, this is what God has meant for me

'Cause, baby I can't believe

That something, like you

Could happen to me”

Feeling the song coming to a close, Poppy followed her instincts, allowing her feet to guide her through the crowd of enthused viewers and closer to the wonderful troll turning what was supposed to be a simple meeting into one of the most spectacular nights of her life.

Coming up to the stage, she leaned against it, her head resting on her crossed forearms as she stared up at Branch adoringly. Surely, this wasn’t creepy or too obvious, was it? He was bound to have had countless fans do the same thing before, right?

For his part, upon noticing Poppy’s figure expertly and politely avoiding crashing into his small audience until she finally reached him, Branch crouched down next to her so their faces could be close enough for her to see the devotion shining behind his eyes. Surely, this was okay, right? There was nothing wrong with showing this beautiful, sweet, incredible troll that he cared, now was it? As long as Poppy had fun tonight, not even John Dory could reprimand him for anything.

“Something magical (something magical)

Something spiritual (something spiritual)

Something stronger than the two of us alone

...Yeah

Something physical

...Something undeniable (undeniable)

Nothing, like anything (anything)

That, I've ever known...

'Cause...

Something happens

When you look at me, I forget to speak

Something happens

When you kiss my mouth, my knees get so weak

Could it be true, this is what God has meant for me”

As the blue-haired troll allowed himself to get lost in Poppy’s stunning pink eyes, her captivating smile drawing him closer and shining so bright it could eclipse the sun, all Branch could think of was one thing:

He sincerely hoped Bruce had a wonderful marriage to Brandy and they had many kids. Like, a lot. Maybe something like twelve boys and one daughter.

It was the least they deserved for giving him the chance to meet the reason his heart beat at all.

“'Cause, baby I can't believe ...No

(That something, like you) Something, like you

(Something, like you)

That something, like you...

...Could happen to me

Can't believe, that you happened to me.”

.......................

After the spell the both of them seemed to be under was broken by the other patrons' raucous cheering and rounds of applause, Poppy and Branch went back to enjoy their dinner. They exchanged stories and playfully teased each other, with Poppy practically eating up each and every piece of gossip Branch could tell her about his brothers without really breaking their trust. In turn, Poppy, who seemed to be quite the adventurer, shared her own anecdotes of her time away from Pop Village. That one time she unknowingly ate a ballberry and blew up like a balloon was equal parts hilarious and disconcerting.

Oddly enough, she kept bringing up the idea of Brozone singing at all kinds of holidays, which if you knew Pop Village, were a lot. But understanding she was just a fan eager to see some more of her favourite boy band, Branch shrugged it off. If he were being honest with himself, knowing his siblings, especially their leader, they’d probably be down for it.

As the night drew to a close, Branch found himself escorting Poppy back to her pod, both out of gentlemanly obligation and uncontrollable desire to prolong the night as much as possible. Glancing around, he surmised the reason John Dory was so adamant the night was perfect was indeed because she had to have money; she certainly lived in one of the nicest parts of the village.

When they finally reached the door to her pod, it was clear neither wanted the night to end.

“I had a wonderful time, Branch. Thank you so much.” Poppy told him honestly, her appreciation reflected in her eyes and the grin playing on her lips.

“Trust me, Poppy. The pleasure was all mine.” He smiled back at her.

“And, um, please, do think about what we’ve talked about tonight, okay?” She pleaded, brushing her fringe away from her face shyly.

His smile morphing into a playful smirk, Branch pretended to think, tapping a finger against his chin. “What we’ve talked about tonight?” He asked no one in particular. Seeing Poppy’s suddenly distressed expression, he chuckled, letting go of the ruse. “Of course I remember, Poppy. Don’t worry, I’ll talk to my brothers about singing at some celebrations.”

The pink beauty let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank Troll! For a moment there I genuinely thought you’d forgotten! I’m…I’m really looking forward to seeing you all perform soon.”

Then, mustering her characteristic boldness, she closed the space between the two of them and planted a soft, sweet kiss on her beloved idol’s cheek. Her ears perking up when she heard him let out an almost inaudible gasp.

As Branch stood there, completely frozen, a hand tentatively reaching out to touch the spot where Poppy had just kissed him—it felt like it was on fire under his touch—, Poppy thanked him one last time for everything and went inside her pod, bidding him good night.

It took more time than Branch cared to admit for his brain to catch up with reality and for him to gain enough presence of mind to stop standing on Poppy’s door like a stalker and begin the trek back home. But Branch couldn’t care less. He was on cloud nine!

Who would’ve thought he’d find the love of his life in one of Brozone’s contests? Just waiting for him to notice her?

He was in such a good mood, upon descending into their bunker’s living room, one of the communal rooms it possessed, his brothers immediately perked up, taking notice of their baby brother’s unusual behaviour.

“I take it everything went well?” Floyd, ever the observant one, asked Branch as he flopped down next to him on the sofa. The magenta-haired brother had to admit it was a little weird seeing his younger brother look so happy, his smile hadn’t been so wide since he reached puberty, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

If anyone deserved to be smiling like a fool for once, it was Branch.

“It was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.” Branch replied, his voice steeped in utter bliss.

“Oooooh, I know that look!” Spruce exclaimed, a knowing smirk planting itself on his features. With a few purposeful strides, he strutted over to the sofa, leaning against the armrest and peering down at his little brothers, but especially at Branch. “Somebody’s got a crush!”

That immediately got Branch on the defensive. “What?! No! I-I-I I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

If his stammering sounded suspicious to his ears, no doubt it sounded off to his brothers, too. Still, refusing to admit defeat, the blue-haired sibling crossed his eyes and resolutely avoided eye contact with Spruce, not unlike when he was a child pouting at something his brothers said.

“How cute! He’s blushing lavender!” Clay pointed out, looking up from his novel.

“Shouldn’t you be reading?” Branch snapped. To his chagrin, his blush only deepened.

To be honest, the middle child was behind on his Sad Book Club book of the month, but his catching up could wait. Teasing Branch was always such a delight, and the idea of his baby brother finally getting himself a girlfriend was too good to pass up on.

Unfortunately, just as he was about to quip back, their eldest brother’s voice interrupted their bickering.

“Oh, Branch. You’re back.” John Dory half-heartedly greeted him, looking up from the stack of documents in his hands for a second as he entered the room. Pulling a pen out of his hair, he worked diligently on the papers in his hands for a short while before returning his focus on his little brother. “Hey, listen man, thank you so much for filling in for me tonight. I swear, I would’ve gone myself, but these last few days work just kept piling up and if I didn’t finish making the last adjustments to Baby, You Drive Me Wild But I Think Our Relationship Is Fuelled Only by Excitement and Won’t Last tonight, it just wouldn’t be ready on time to be included in our next album!”

Branch was about to wave it off when something he said caught him off-guard.

“Wait, I was filling in for you?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Why? Is there a problem?”

“No, not really. I just thought I was filling in for Spruce, now that he’s off the market and all that…”

“And you are.” John Dory confirmed. At the same time as Spruce said, “And I couldn’t be more thankful for that.”

“But that’s only when we hold a contest among our fans and the prize is a date with one of us.” Their turquoise-haired leader continued, his eyes squinting in confusion at their baby brother.

“But you just said I was filling in for you tonight.” Branch insisted, his own confusion apparent.

“And you were!” John Dory threw his hands to his sides, not following. Seriously, they were going ‘round in circles.

As usual, it was Floyd who came to their rescue. Turning to Branch, he asked cautiously. “Branch, what did you think you were doing tonight?”

Branch was a little taken aback by the way Floyd phrased his question. It was almost like he knew something he didn’t. “Going on a date with the winner of our latest contest…” He said uneasily, suddenly hyper-aware of the astonished looks on his siblings’ faces.

“What?!” John Dory finally exploded. Taking a deep breath to force himself to calm down, he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Branch, for the love of everything trolly, please, tell me you didn’t treat Poppy like any other of our fans.”

Branch could confidently say he had not treated Poppy just like any other fan. “I…really didn’t.” Then, thinking back to her insistence that he tell his brothers her idea, he perked up. “Oh, she also had the greatest idea! She thinks we should totally perform during the village’s celebrations. And, you’d like to hear, JD,” he turned to his brother with a smirk, “she thinks we could be the main event at the Electric Foam Parade.”

And just like that, all the tension left their leader’s body. “Oh, thank frosting! I knew talking to Poppy about this was a good idea!”

“Dude, what are you talking about?” Spruce sent him a pointed look. “It was her who came looking for you, not the other way around. And you almost dismissed her as just another fan asking for an autograph!”

“And, you forget it was per my suggestion she came looking for you at all.” Clay pointed out, matter-of-factly. “It’s all thanks to me we even have this opportunity.”

As their three older siblings bickered amongst themselves, it was Floyd who noticed the utter confusion on his baby brother’s face. Staring intently at his face, and taking special note of the way his eyes lit up at the mention of the pink troll, his eyes widened when he connected the dots.

“Branch, is the girl you’ve fallen in love with Poppy?” He gasped.

The moment Floyd’s question registered in their ears, all three oldest brothers halted their childish argument, turning to stare owlishly in astonishment at their baby brother. Silently asking for confirmation.

His face turning a furious shade of lavender was all the answer they needed.

And their cue to lose their collective minds.

“Look at my baby bro! All grown up!” Spruce said proudly, wiping a fake tear off the corner of his eye. “And he has such great taste, too! A chip off the old block…”

“If you were his father!” Clay corrected.

“Hey, I basically raised you three! I can say whatever I want!”

Meanwhile, John Dory kept muttering to himself. “This was supposed to be just a meeting…How did this happen? I mean, Poppy is obviously a keeper but I just can’t seem to wrap my head around it…”

“All I know”, Clay began, his voice carrying over the room and over his brothers’, “is that Viva’s going to be ecstatic to hear my little brother and his little sister might end up together.”

At that, Floyd left his spot on the couch to put a sympathetic hand on the yellow-haired troll’s shoulder. Knowing Viva and her boundless energy, Clay was in for a long couple of weeks, at the very least.

“Wait, Viva?” Branch interrupted his siblings’ ramblings. “What does Viva and her sister have to do with anything?”

All four trolls exchanged a glance. “Um, Viva’s sister is Poppy?”

Branch made a psh! sound, incredulous. “That can’t be right. It can’t be my Poppy.” Ignoring the way his brothers cooed and teased him about referring to Poppy as his, he went on. “It’s gotta be some other troll.”

“I can very much assure you it’s not.” Clay insisted. “It’s the same Poppy.”

“C’mon, it’s gotta be a coincidence. Many trolls are named Poppy!”

“Do you know any?” This time, it was Floyd who spoke, gently encouraging him to realise what was truly going on.

“But that’s impossible! Because if Poppy is Viva’s sister that means…that means…” He trailed off, his voice tapering off and his eyes widening as he finally connected the dots.

Everything made so much sense now.

Everyone’s shocked yet polite reactions at seeing them together wasn’t because of him, it was all her! The way she kept bringing up matters that only the Royal family had any power over, like deciding the groups that would perform at Pop Village’s most prestigious celebrations. John Dory was right; it was never meant to be a date, it was an important meeting! …which also explained his insistence on everything going perfectly tonight; there was way too much on the line.

Not to mention, the way Poppy carried herself with an air of grace and elegance, yet had this aura that let you know she was perfectly approachable. No, scratch that. She was like a beacon of light, guiding and warming up your soul with a mere smile. Drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

Floyd exchanged worried glances with his brothers when Branch froze up like a Swag Stag in headlights. Their concern only skyrocketed when their baby brother hugged his knees to his chest and buried his face in them.

Just as he was about to ask if he was okay, Branch threw his head back, his hands rubbing down his face. “I can’t believe I'm in love with the Pop Princess, of all people. Talk about a frosting cliché.”

“Hey, language.” John Dory admonished lightly.

“If it’s any consolation, I mean it when I say you’ve got good taste.” Spruce tried to lighten up the mood. “I met her with JD, and she’s an absolute sweetheart.”

“Oh, a total keeper.” The eldest agreed.

Just then, an impish smile made its way to the sensitive brother’s face. “You know, I haven’t really interacted with Poppy all that much,” Floyd admitted, “but I remember her face when JD told her she would have to meet up with you.”

Despite himself, Branch’s ear perked up at that, listening with interest.

Floyd smiled to himself. “She was ecstatic! Seriously, like a trolling on their quarter-half-birthday! So I wouldn’t be too surprised if it turned out the Pop Princess is also in love with you.”

As always, Floyd knew just what to say to make him feel better. His mind going back to the look of utter adoration on her face as he sang to her, Branch dared to believe, even if just for a moment, that Poppy could ever come to love him, too, and her admiration wasn’t based solely on her love for Brozone.

Maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t made himself a complete fool in front of their princess.

“You know, she’s actually the Queen, now.” Clay reminded them. “Her coronation happened a few weeks ago, but we couldn’t make it due to incompatible schedules.”

Branch could feel his eye twitch.

“I boasted in front of the freaking Queen?!”

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