#fun question of the day though why is it such a pain in the butt to format tumblr posts. truly doing my head in.

[finniestoncrane]

WAIT FINNIE how would the Riddlers react if they had a s/o with big breasts and one day while they're working, one of the buttons on their shirt pops off?

Popped Buttons

Riddler Headcanons emi you always have the most fun requests to do and this was so funny 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: suggestive stuff

twojar

look this is an hr disaster waiting to happen

but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't working for him

completely and utterly ready and willing to take advantage of this

right here on the desk of his office

fuck the planning and the scheming and the villainy

he can take a little break to do something far more...

relaxing? or at least stress-relieving, if you'll let him of course

young justice

mmm... hmmm... h... y-y-y... y... ah... uh uh... n-nope

he's lost the ability to speak, which is surprising for him

not even a little rant about the physics that led to this

nothing to note about the projectile, no science here

only thoughts, dirty, disgusting, wonderful thoughts

make a note though, you could do this any time you need a minute

just a little reprieve from his silly riddles

unburied

fuck ok if you wanted him that bad you could have just said

no need to bust out of your clothes hulk style

he can take a hint though

so why don't you get to popping the rest of those buttons

and then you can come over here

and see what else might be growing huge in size

maybe unzip it and take a look for yourself

before the button pops in the front of his pants

gotham

oh gosh that's... wait! he can... sorry, shouldn't have looked but...

he didn't mean to notice, at all, and sorry for pointing it out

but it's better he did, i guess, because now you can cover up

here, take his lab coat, let him go get his sewing kit

he can stitch that button right back on

no need to take the shirt off! he can do it while it's on

let his hands graze against you as a little treat...

btaa

see here's the thing. it's not going to happen

and if it does, pretend it didn't

the attention to detail he has put into your matching outfits

making sure everything fit perfectly, the right size

the right patterns, the question mark motifs lining up on the seams

to make sure that you and he outdo batman and robin

so if a button has popped, that reflects poorly on him

and no amount of cleavage makes up for that disappointment

capullo

ok so he will be convinced he has telekinesis

because he's been willing those buttons to pop all day

although, now that he's acheived that

maybe he should have been trying to have x-ray vision instead

because what good is it if your buttons pop

but he still can't see anything

so he'll be squinting real hard for the rest of the day

trying to pop the rest of them

idiot

arkham

a shirt is tossed your way, smacking you in the face

"cover yourself up"

not because he's a gentleman and wants you to feel comfortable

it's more that he doesn't need the distraction

plus heaven forbid you get scratched or scalded or burnt

he doesn't want to have to stop working to patch you up

and then have to stop patching you up to feel you up

telltale

maybe you should have been wearing a shirt that fit then

you really do serve as nothing more than a distraction

a complete pain in his butt

hellbent on destroying his concentration

well for that, you really should be punished

so perhaps you and your ample, uncontainable breasts

should saunter on over to him and bend over his lap

dano

well good luck to whatever he was doing before

because all ability to focus or even be a functioning human

it's gone, completely, wiped away in a flood of horny

and he wishes he could stop staring but he can't

he's so sorry, so very... very... very... what?

see! he got distracted again

maybe you should cover up or maybe...

if he just got it out of his system...

[inventors-fair]

Two-Faced Runners-up of the Halloween 2023 contest! ~

Congrats to @horsecrash, @real-aspen-hours, and @snugz as our runners-up for this week!

@horsecrash — Morphic Trickster

I'll be honest: there were two faerie-oriented cards in this pool, and I knew that one of them was gonna get up there and one of them was gonna also be praised, and I just think it's funny that we had two faerie transformation cards. Not surprised, but—well, to be honest, a little surprised. Let's take a look at this aspect! It's certainly a little more mean-spirited, but there's nothing wrong with some jerk faeries. The flavor text is spot-on for sure, and wow, Insects? That's a great choice.

The multikicker and the ability that comes from it is a great choice to really sink mana late-game or just make one problem creature a little pest, OR to give yourself some extra aerial advantage later when you gotta swing for it. The multikicker wording seemed odd at first but you used the right wording for that. With the changing part of it, Eccentric Apprentice says you can drop the "gain" off that ability. I think overall this is a fun, versatile card that plays into some mischievous aspects of its color/type that aren't super easy to capture. Unlike Steve, the Recently-TF'd Insect.

@real-aspen-hours — Amoeboid Gift

There are two main wording tweaks for this card. Firstly, I would make this an "as it enters" rather than "when," although I couldn't tell you precisely why. I suppose just for reaction's sake. Secondly, Arachnoform tells us that Embrace can be worded: "Enchanted creature gets +3/+3, has trample, and is every creature type." And also Reject should have "loses all creature types" after but whatever—those are some weird ones. The concept: solid. The card: really strong in limited and would probably be a bulk rare. The feeling: genuinely horrific.

I know that you wanted this to have the creature lose all abilities, and you know what, that would've made it a much stronger rare, but I want to focus on the strengths of this card. Besides being a slammin' good time for combat tricks and aggro Simic strategies, you nailed the art description and nailed something I wouldn't have thought about this card otherwise. I would've said that this was more of an actual-Simic card without knowing the thoughtless annexation of the amoeboid in question. I can see the gunk-drowned scream frozen on the soldier's face beneath the translucent body that is soon to become their body forever. It's grotesque and, like you said, deeply unsettling. Great show of transformation's complexities on a solid body of a card!

@snugz — Brazen Banner

Doesn't it feel good to go back to basics? This card's a pain in the butt and thank goodness it's not common. These days, you never know, but still. I think this card shows a little historicity and a return to Magic without being nostalgia-bait or pandering. Flagbearing is a pretty complex pseudo-mechanic as it stands. You gotta start somewhere, though, and the target is right there. The ability to block stuff implying that this thing sits back and takes the hits is kind of sad for it, actually. I feel bad for a creature that doesn't even exist yet.

And I would've liked to see more flavor here, honestly. Not necessarily flavor text, but: where do you imagine this card taking place? What do you see happening to this determined soldier? Are they proud to carry the banner? Does the banner stand unfurling in the wind? To be honest, I thought about the Tarkir banners, and a young warrior with their hands gripped around a pole so ancient that the wood is indented with other finger-marks of generations past. But it could be a makeshift rebel flag just as much, a hooligan's mark running through the city. What's it to you? What's the line between nobility and novelty? I'd like more of that—from every card that ever gets submitted, for sure, but here especially where the resonance feels just on the cusp.

Commentary's a-comin'! @abelzumi

[dark9896]

Day 31-3 [Dog/ Lucky/ Daniel]

Prompt: "You know what you have to do..."

.

Dog

"Oh no, not this..." Dog was blowing this whole game way out of proportion... again, "Anything but that!"

You sighed, "You know what you have to do, sug. Your turn wouldn't be over with until afterwards."

"There has to be another move!" He frowned, "One where I don't clean half your pieces."

Every. Single. Time you two played checkers or chess this happened. Heck, any competitive game where you couldn't be on the same side was like this. All because your sweetheart of a lover didn't like being 'mean' whilst spending time with you.

And every single time, you had to remind his dorky butt that it was just a game. That it was meant to be fun, not taken seriously.

"Sug, there really isn't another move." You half chuckled, "Not a quote unquote legal one at least."

Dog looked like a cartoon character with those big puppy eyes and a slightly poked-out lip. Fawk! He was adorable and sad all at once. It took all your willpower to not laugh at just how cute he was. But, that was the game.

Looking completely defeated, Dog moved his chip across the board, gently making the clicking noises. All you could do was shake your head in a bemused way, he was acting like he was declaring war or something.

"King me..."

You put the chip on his piece then nearly mirrored his own move, claiming several pieces that had lined up perfectly.

"There, now we're even." You said, "It isn't the end of the world to win a game of checkers against me, sug."

Dog would strongly disagree, but his mood did improve a little with you leveling the playing field.

Lucky

How could you have been so very careless? Now here you were, strapped to a cross and slowly going insane. You had devoted your life to hunting and fighting these monsters and now you were one of them. What would your lover think?

You honestly couldn't say. He was an eccentric man after all, Blitz would probably want to ask a hundred questions before someone sealed you away.

The sudden brightness of the door opening cut through your thoughts quickly. A familiar-sounding footstep pattern approaching the post you were currently bound to.

"[Name]..." Yep, it was Lucky alright, "What? How? You were the operative that had been captured? But..."

"I'm sorry honey." You muttered, "But you know what you have to do. I... I don't want to live as a monster."

"Sweetie, no" He looked you in the eye, not even phased that they were blood red, "That's exactly why you could live. There are peaceful blood breeds. We could take the necessary steps to get whatever you need to..."

"Blitz, no." You wanted to cry so very badly, "I'm not going to be able to live like that. It isn't a life I want to deal with. Just... please. Seal me away and get this over with."

Blitz looked up at your bare body. Taking in how pale you were now, how the fangs looked peeking out from your upper lip, that pained expression across your face. After a pregnant pause and a deep sigh...

"Alright, sweetheart." He nodded, "I'll call for back up and we'll get this all fixed. I love you."

"I love you too."

.

Daniel

"What kind of lousy, ego-tripping, puffed maniacal-"

"Can you please shut up so I can figure out how to escape?" You turned to Daniel, frustrated to hell and back, "Unless you want to stay locked in this box longer."

He begrudgingly shut up, a half frown across his face. To be honest, Daniel probably should have listened to you. Or at least given you the common courtesy of trusting you. He still had deep feelings for you, and he hated it.

Mostly because he couldn't tell if you still felt the same way about him.

You however, were just annoyed at the current situation. Having long since accepted that Daniel just needed time to figure himself out and knowing how difficult it must be to have a lover in Libra. Especially given his job as a police officer and just how much strain that would put on any relationship.

There wasn't a door to be seen though. Even after a close inspection of the wall that you could have sworn you were thrown in through. It left you worried about the possibility of being a target on someone's list and getting Daniel caught in the middle of it. Another huge motivator for why you were okay with just splitting up without a fuss.

"I take it you can't figure it out then?" Daniel huffed, "Great, just great. Locked in a box with my ex and--"

You groaned, "You don't ever shut up, do you? Always moaning and groaning about everything being unfair just because it isn't the way you want life to work out."

"Hey!"

"No!" You stamped your foot, turning to him, "I'm going to say what's on my mind. You broke up with me simply because I'm a Libra operative. No regard for how I might feel about the situation or anything like that. it all happened because you didn't want to 'fraternize with the enemy' or something stupid like that. We were always on the same side Danny!"

As badly as he wanted to argue, Daniel held his tongue with a bitter groan. He knew how his decision probably looked from your end. Given just how many secrets and lies had come to light that night. But he...

"And just when things started actually seeming okay, this happens." You huffed, "The one thing I was trying to avoid. The one thing that made the break up seem like a necessary sacrifice instead of a great tragic heartache."

"Wait, what?" Daniel finally managed to look at your face, the upset look didn't sit right with him, "You didn't want to break up, but you still let it happen?"

"Of course I didn't want to break things off." You sighed, "But you kept accusing me of lying and... I know how dangerous it is to be involved with a Libra operative so... I did what I thought was right, what should have protected you from situations like this and..."

"Pie..."

You looked up, a single tear threatening to fall, "But that doesn't matter now. We're stuck in here with no means of..."

You leaned down, finally having spotted the seal on the room. Daniel hated having to admit how he felt about you, even after all the time spent apart. He still loved you.

"Well, this is awkward." You pinched the bridge of your nose, "The seal is designed so that we can't leave until we kiss."

"Then you know what you have to do, right?" Daniel sheepishly opened his arms despite having the same bravado in his voice, "I mean, I still want to. If you don't mind being with this tired, old, arrogant jerk-wad."

"We'll see how we feel after we're no longer trapped in this box." You allowed yourself to return to the comfortable position between Daniel's arms, "Assuming you don't mind that I am a Libra operative."

[ducknotinarow]

[2k3 Mikey Von]

"Michelangelo, for the last time I don't-"

She pauses, thinking, as the spark of needing to be a pain in the butt sibling kicked in. Somehow Mikey had found out that butterflies and turtles have close relationships in the wild, but seems like he didn't like what he heard. Now she was the one being questioned, and she realised, she could mess with him - like a good sibling does,

"Don't eat Turtles, natural butterflies don't have mouths to eat, and I can't digest much food," She soon smirks, "But, we do enjoy the taste of turtle tears, or their blood."

Which was accurate, for actual butterflies, not so much Von. But Mikey doesn't know that.

"Donatello is particular delicious you know," She smirks, "Though, I'm always down to try other Turtles...best not come near me if you get an injury, may not be able to help myself."

The fun of having such an emotionless face is that no one can ever tell when you're joking or not,

"Speaking of Donatello, I'm feeling hungry," More like a set up for her to leave and let Mikey freak out, "I'll see you around," She takes two steps, before pausing, "Oh! And don't let the others know, I wouldn't want to scare them after all."

| Muse interaction

Mikey's brain had been successfully turned off for hours, Splinter would be scolding him for it later he was more than aware of that fact. But He didn't care he just needed to beat his score on the latest game he got his hands on. It wasn't often they got anything new after all and most discard movies or games came at the risk of just being busted and that being why it got trashed. But he got lucky the other day. Someone returned a copy of the latest game that came out and guess the store had some policy about opened games blah blah. Truth be told Mikey was meant to hiding at the time because they were playing a sort of hide and seek game together with his brothers. Training and Leo was it. Mikey thought he was pretty smart sticking so close to the streets. Just turned out to benefit him in a whole different way. Disgruntled and pissy the guy who tried to return the game just tossed it in the trash bins outside the small game shop. Easy pickings for Mikey.

Sure he lost the game because Leo heard him but whatever not a big deal. As he had taken over the couch the moment they returned home and hadn't moved for hours. Staring at the tv screens as he logged in his good few chunk of hours into the new game. Blue light from the tv had burned his eyes with all the bright flashes. He kept the volume low so not to wake anyway. Mostly so he could be left alone. When he finally was ready for a break? He noticed the time. Splinter would be waking them up for training soon and if he missed out because of a video game? Oh he hear about it.

Again.

Rubbing at his eyes he swapped the tv to the cable feed and figured watching tv would help him pass the time till training. When he landed on some documentary. Boring. This seemed more like something Don or even Von would into, not to mention the narrators voices in these things were just so boring and monotone. "Laaaame" Mikey slightly sang out ready to change the channel when something that was begin said caught his attention. It was talking about animals that shared relationships in nature and the one between turtles and butterflies. Well okay that had his attention they were close to Von so it's kind cool they seem to be mirroring nature. Mikey knew they still have a bit of turtle in them. Like cold effects them, they love to bask and now they were friends with butterflies too! Expect that isn't exactly what the narrator said.

And the younger brother pestering kicked in the moment Von had made her self known in the lair. Mikey just paying some hellos before she got adsorb into other things. Not that she really got a chance because the second Mikey heard her voice he bee-lined it too her. and The accusation started. Asking if Von's a vampire, asking if sees using them as prey. Asking if she gets turtle soup when ordering out for food. It was none stop the moment she came through. usual Von was the one to ask question after question guess it seemed the tables were turned now.

"Michelangelo, for the last time I don't-"

Mikey stood waiting for an answer, faintly curious and in need to be comforted over this information he managed to retain. It wasn't like Mikey suddenly didn't trust her. He just needed to know if his sister was cold heated blood sucker.

"Don't eat Turtles, natural butterflies don't have mouths to eat, and I can't digest much food,"

Mikey felt relief with that along with letting out the breath he been holding in the whole time with a faint smile on his beak. Face relaxing as a smile returned to his beak. Blame the lack of sleep on his full on panic and urgency over the matter. "Whew had me worried there for a second Vonnie." Mikey states ready to put this to rest and take a much needed nap how dose Don do this for days straight?

"But, we do enjoy the taste of turtle tears, or their blood."

However, it seemed not even Von was immune to the effects of Mikey pestering you too much. Seeking out some much needed and warranted revenge as a smirk had tugged on her lips. Mikey's face fell when she had admitted to liking the taste of both tears and blood and that was what freaked him out! He thought butterflies ate flowers or something he didn't know how it worked. He didn't know the weird straw like mouth they had could price through something like scales to drain out tears or blood! or however it worked he truly didn't care in that moment simply taking a step back from Von the moment she admitted it. Reading that smirk more as a sinister in his own tried gaze. Slightly lifting an arm up in case he needed to defend himself.

"Donatello is particular delicious you know,"

"Wha-?" Was all Mikey could get out "You've been feeding on my brother!" he suddenly exclaimed nothing but worry and concern lanced in ever word that passed over his tongue in that moment.

"Though, I'm always down to try other Turtles...best not come near me if you get an injury, may not be able to help myself."

Mikey jumped back a little and faintly let out that high pitch fearful scream of his he was known for. His eyes were blown wide as he tried to piece that together. Eyes darting around no longer feeling safe being alone "I uh i -Raph!" He called out for out of habit more than anything but they had left some time ago "Leo!" Also another bust. "Don?" he says more as a question he pretty sure they are around but Von already got her claws into him! Keeping him around so she can drain him of his fluids and leave him no more then a husk and shell! Not that she had said any of that but she may as well have far as Mikey was concerned here.

"Speaking of Donatello, I'm feeling hungry,"

Mikey suddenly worry moved to Donnie when she mentioned that, his poor brother was a victim all along!

"I'll see you around," She takes two steps, before pausing, "Oh! And don't let the others know, I wouldn't want to scare them after all."

Mikey swore his heart stopped for a spilt second there. What was he meant to do!! Von clearly used her womanly wiles on Donatello and had him trapped! In. In here? Butterfly net? Whatever still! He couldn't just sit there and do nothing about this!! Slightly hoping on his feet as he tried to get his brain to think. But all je could bring himself todo?

"RAPH! LEO! RAPH! LEO!" He started to call out as he took off quick calling out in clear cries for help running off to whereever his feet carried certien one of them would hear and help to save Donatello from his certien death.

[iliolo]

Why do we humans compare ourselves?

Even to our very family members,siblings.

It’s extremely toxic that I stared to hate my sibling and myself for acting this way, the counterpart is equally injured as I am.

I came up with a hypothesis to this question, though it’s still a work of progress:

We do not really allow, accept and celebrate diversity.

We define success only by fame, followers, money etc, it’s very hard to jump out of this deep-rooted measurements made by society (without questioning it’s accuracy).

It is a very difficult to change this ancient ( and

Today I’ve been in an extremely disturbed, irascible mood, the weight of my emotions, anger, frustration, suffocation weighing on my back, causing my back pain , which has already been chronic since high-school.

I’ll try to not answer my phone when my brother calls , if I’m already very irritable/ depressed/anxious/busy/ in a hurry. It does not end up well lol.

I’m not sure who is being toxic here anymore, his words confused me again, causing me to feel guilty for hurting him with my indifferent than angry replies, I just wanted this phone-call to end ASAP. He is extremely good at gaslighting, am I emotionally abusive or am I still being abused ? This ruined my already very busy day as I am preparing for a big exam and on my way to build my future.

I need to be more AWARE, I need to know how to express my feelings even if I’m afraid of hurting other people’s feelings, ok, I see what I was doing now, it’s about people pleasing, hurting myself and restraining my happiness& wellness not hurting others,

The past year I’ve been putting my entire focus on fixing myself , resting, healing ( as cliche as it sounds) restoring my “back bone” , even butt pain.

Note for myself:

- I found out that when I’m extremely emotional disturbed , even if my brain would always numb it down, ( probably cause I’ve been used to “suck it up , it’s not that severe” self-talk, I tend to underestimate my pain level)

-remember that the very first second of this new year I was laughing at a video, so let’s make this year all about good energy

- I think I bottled way too much that it’s seriously hurting me , very visibly, it’s causing me bodily pain, back pain so annoying and just wouldn’t be ameliorated. And extremely suffocating emotional feeling can’t been expressed with my voice , cause I found myself can’t talk/ cry/ yell , cause this behaviors were conditioned by this place I was staying.

- allow yourself to play, have fun, laugh, build your support circle, you’ve been suppressing your right to happiness just as much as you’ve been silencing the negative energy.

[elvisabutler]

those headcanons KILLED ME!!!! pleaseeee i need the happy ones 😭

oh anon, i have way more where that came from lol.​ but you asked for happy and i have happy in the spirit of trying to make us all a little more happy on this sad day. the best tw I can give here is faint sexual undertones (very faint, it's like oh kissing) and mention of babies and the normal stuff to go with my pa! reader also a brief mention of a tattoo. trust me when i tell you though i could have gone on forever with this. i have a Lot of headcanons. some fluff, some angst and some NSFW.

So in the future when you've both gotten your act together and you're married and it's common knowledge despite y’all wanting to be private about to the point where your rings eventually just become each other initials on each other’s ring fingers. You have two kids. A third maybe on the way, maybe planned.

You had told Austin once upon a time that he was gonna be the daddy to give you everything. A house, the TV shows, the movies, the awards to give you an EGOT and the four kids and they’ll look so pretty daddy.

But you’ve got children, you’re married, you’re happy and EW or some magazine wants you to recreate the family photos Elvis and Priscilla once took with Lisa.

Austin immediately says no, you two had enough problems with photoshoots while on the press tour for Elvis and after the amount of therapy you two have gone through to make sure your relationship and your marriage is as solid as can be- he refuses to put either one of you in a state where you can backslide. Not to mention it would put your kids on display which y'all had specifically tried to avoid. 

You convince him that it’s a fine idea and that if his Lil Dove says its okay, it’s okay. 

The pre-sales of the magazine sell out before the day is out when they’re released.

But you know that's way in the future. Before then you two get to know each other during your quarantines. He finds you hate cooking breakfast while dinner and lunch are your specialties. He agrees that you know what, he'll make breakfast when you two don't decide that being lazy and eating a bowl of cereal in bed is a better option and take away that most horrible of meals from you. 

You both memorize each other's coffee orders surprisingly quickly. During the filming of Elvis you make fun of how Austin says oatmilk. Eventually he starts saying it the way he used to. In the future he says it when you're stressed out just to make you laugh. 

You buy each other jewelry all the time. His is because he's your dom, your daddy and he's got to spoil his little dove (and even if he wasn't he wants to give his partner the world). You do it because you like seeing him in the rings and the random tiny necklaces. "Daddy have you seen your neck? It's a crime not to put something on it."

The two of you adopt two dogs and a cat at some point. 

The cat is named Elvis and likes literally no one but you and your kids. Hates Austin which leads to him attempting to bribe him with fish and chicken.

The cat tries to eat Austin's hair multiple times while y'all sleep. 

The cat hates Austin because he can sense that he is an absolute puppy of a man and is thus useless to him. Best to be besties with who really calls the shots, i.e. you. 

So this scene? That's you and Austin. Most if not all scenes had an element of the two of you but they also had the two of you as Elvis and Priscilla. But this scene is after Austin had been playing a bit too much with slapping your ass and Baz gave you the simple direction of be in love. Knowing fully well at this point that everyone on set knows you two are in love.

"Be in love. Easiest direction he's given, right Lil Dove?" You have to stop yourself from calling him daddy. "Aus, you're gonna ruin the make up." Not a hint of Priscilla's voice, it's all you trying not to giggle and ruin the take. "Too late, I see a smudge. Better make it worth it." And now you're giggling as you feel his lips nipping at your ear and him just chuckling. "My best girl. My only girl. Gonna make you my wife one of these days. My mama sent you to me. You’re so perfect." It's before everything goes wrong in your mind so all you can think and say when Baz calls cut after the light is off is simply: "You're forever."

[rosiethedragongeek]

Hi, I have kinda weird question, but I think about it a lot. How do you think when main characters (and their parents plus Gobber) have birthdays? I don't know why, but I didn't see anything of this. I need it for full picture in my scenarios in my head lol, but I can't do it myself, so I decided to ask you. If you don't want to write this, it's okay. Englisch isn't my language btw

OHHHH OKAY THIS SOUNDS LIKE FUN

Hiccup: Hiccup tries to keep his birthday a quieter affair, but at any given point in time he is the chief or the chief’s son, and that’s not really an option. Add onto that the fact that he has five best friends, Gobber, and Stoick or Valka who are always excited to do something for it, he doesn’t get to gloss over it. They all pull together each year to give him some sort of present, and they throw a huge party on Berk (where he receives a lot of food and gifts from the villagers.

Astrid: She also likes to keep her birthday a little quieter. She tries to get some time to herself for a ride with Stormfly or to train. But eventually she comes back to the gang in the late afternoon/evening and they have drinks around a fire somewhere and they give her a gift.

Snotlout: Everyone knows his birthday is coming weeks before, and he makes a HUGE deal of it when it actually comes around. He’s just showing off and making a big deal about himself all day and he uses it to get his way whenever he can. He’s very full of himself all day, really, but after his RTTE development, it’s a little more of a part he’s jokingly playing, he’s more self aware than he was before. Still a pain in the butt though lol.

Fishlegs: He gets a little awkward receiving presents. What he really wants is a quiet day he can spend meditating, reading, or gardening. He loves spending time with the gang, though, and they try to do that kinda stuff with him. They’re not all very good at it, and it normally descends into chaos, but it means a lot to him that they try and he’s just happy to be spending time with them. Ruff & Tuff: Unlike everyone else, we actually see an episode on the twins’ birthday. (Late RTTE, it’s the Thorston Trials episode. I don’t actually remember the name of the episode, but Gruffnut is there) Based on that, they make a big deal out of it, and they organize a big celebration, and they walk around talking in weird fancy voices the whole time. They have so much fun, and they definitely use their birthdays to get stuff like Snotlout. (Like if they want someone to get up and get something for them bc they’re comfortable or smth and the gang is like no they’re like ??? on our birthday??? do you even care about us?)

Gobber: Pre-HTTYD 2, he and Stoick would have drinks in the evenings, the gang would get him a present and Hiccup would try and handle more chores around the shop to get him some more time to relax. After HTTYD 2, everything looks basically the same, except he’s having drinks with Valka, Eret, and the gang. His birthday is one of the days where he misses Stoick the most, and they go out of there way to distract him and spend lots of time with him.

This was so much fun, I really loved doing this omg. I’m so sorry it took me forever to get around to this, my ask box has been a little backed up lately, and for some reason I haven’t been doing them in any kind of order, I’m just jumping around them. I’m an idiot lol.

[wincore]

romeo roulette | jung yoonoh

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader

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

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

words: 21.2k

warnings: language

song recs: playlist here !

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

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

Jung Yoonoh. Get your act together.

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

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

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

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

This whole charade dates its beginning to a week ago. 

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

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

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

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

“And I get what out of this?”

“Me? Temporarily, that is.”

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

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

“Wait!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll ask Doyoung if you say no.”

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

“I really will ask him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

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

“On one condition.”

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

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

“No way.”

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

You stare at him, weighing the odds. 

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

Jaehyun shrugs.

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

You mutter the last part.

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

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

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

“We have an agreement,” he repeats.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You should." You glare at her.

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

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

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

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

"Yeah," Sicheng mutters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Literally what I just said," Soojin says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sigh. “Man, I feel bad for him.”

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

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

You gasp. “Is it me? It’s me, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise an eyebrow. “So?”

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

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

“Hey. Professional,” Soojin warns.

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

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

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

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

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

“Shh. What if they hear us?”

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

You huff, crossing your arms. “Still…”

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

“Your acting was shit though,” you snipe.

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you headed to?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, the sweet summer child that Dongmin is.

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

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

“—Around ten minutes left.”

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

“That sounds like a load of—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggle. "Alright, handsome."

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

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

“What do you mean, baby?”

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

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

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

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

“You think you’re so—”

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

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

“Don’t say a word, Yoonoh.”

“Ooh, you’re saying my name now.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“I find it plenty funny.”

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

“Mhm.”

“Don’t look so smug.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You roll your eyes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you mutter.

He raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

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

He laughs. “What are we, in college?”

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

“Wrong,” he emphasizes, face leaning closer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun looks down. “Ginseng extract.”

“Oh, the gift pack?” Doyoung asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The two of you look at each other.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh? CEO? I’m sorry?” you manage. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Dammit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I charge by the hour.” He smiles.

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, what? I didn’t catch that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, yes or no?”

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

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

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

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

“No,” he says with clear emphasis. 

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

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

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

Jaehyun shakes his head, smiling through his hand. 

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

He sighs. “Maybe. Have you?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?”

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

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

“Definitely.”

He scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

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

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

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

“It’s not officially there.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re both the same thing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You saved me,” you say, smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile. “Thanks, Soojin.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You clearly liked it,” he mutters. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look at her, puzzled.

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

“Don’t give me that cr—”

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

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

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

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

“Of course it is,” you mutter. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There.”

“It’s hot in here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He does?”

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

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

“Hm. Funny coincidence.”

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

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

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

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

“For what? Being perfect and successful?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m so sorry!”

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?”

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

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

“Sorry,” he responds quietly. 

There’s a pause.

“Did you just kiss me right now?”

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

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

“What are you implying?” 

“You wanted to kiss me.”

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe it won’t.

"Never heard that before."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You say I keep to myself but what about you? You like hiding, don't you?"

You laugh. "Is this the part where I say we're nothing alike?"

He purses his lips, shaking his head in dismissal. He's just tired of chit-chat with someone who smells like she robbed a liquor store in Itaewon.

“You must think I’m some sort of selfish, vapid, work-obsessed overachiever,” you continue, tilting your head with a blank look in your eyes.

“Well, not exac—”

“But guess what? Your opinions are invalid, Jung Yoonoh. You’re just some chump from marketing. A very good-looking chump but still.”

Jaehyun swears under his breath as you fling your arms open in the same manner a speech-giving patriot fighting for freedom would. Unfortunately, the freedom struggle is private in this day and age, and you just smacked him in the nose instead.

You sigh deeply and he looks at you again, warily now as he holds his nose.

“You’re not exactly wrong either. I’m so empty. Like a bottle of soju with no soju. Could you bring me some?”

Jaehyun massages his temples and solidifies his resolve. He’s had enough stares from people on the sidewalk. With delicate concern, he holds you up with one arm around your waist, balancing your weight evenly so you can stand. Promptly, you bury your face into his neck and an embarrassing, high-pitched squeak evades the filter of his mouth. You’re just so adept at making his days (and nights) worse.

Jaehyun tries his best to carry you to the parking lot without any signs of struggle but good lord, are you uncooperative. Once he’s down lugging you to the passenger seat, he breathes out in relief at long last and makes sure you don’t fold in over yourself dozing off the seat. Getting you to sit up, he finds himself smiling the slightest bit at your smudged lipstick. Even like this, you’re quite pretty. 

Realizing what thought came over him, he shakes his head vigorously as if he’s committing a horrible crime. He just has to get you home—Soojin had texted him the address prior to the outing just in case—and then he can go back to pretending whatever he even is supposed to.

The sports event is really just HR and Management trying to one-up the other in a more quantitative way. You’re not really fond of the sweat and heavy breathing that comes with physical exertion if it’s for the sake of competition. Competition is such a childish, masculine way of handling things, especially emotions.

HR is leading in wins, however and that means you have something to rub in Jaehyun’s face. You hate participating but you’re not allowed to opt out without a medical certificate. At least one competition, and you had to choose the three-legged race. All these potential partners, and Dongmin had to choose you.

“I’ll win,” you tell Jaehyun, stopping by him once you exit the changing room. The indoor stadium is usually a recreational facility for senior employees but on sports day, it’s closer to a gladiator arena. The seats are green and occupied by grinning employees, most of them glad for a day off but also upset they don’t get to attend their personal affairs in it.

Jaehyun stops himself from rolling his eyes. “Shouldn’t it be a ‘we’? You need a partner. Oh, are you sad you can’t pick me?”

“Not at all.” You cross your arms, annoyed at his mock pity. 

Right then, Dongmin jogs up to you in a blue tracksuit. His hair sticks to his forehead because unlike you, he takes sports very seriously. Jaehyun, on the other hand, just seems to enjoy the competition. As a guilty pleasure, you’d like to see the two of them compete one day. That would be a competition worth betting on.

“I’ll have to borrow your soulmate.” Dongmin laughs. “The race is starting.”

Life strikes again with its poorly timed irony.

“Don’t mind me,” Jaehyun says politely.

The race is easier than you thought it would be considering most of the other employees struggle with teamwork. You’re the HR team for a reason. But then again, you feel a certain hollowness pervade you while you’re pressed to Dongmin’s side. Wouldn’t it be nice?

All you can think is that Dongmin and you are perfectly in sync. The realization comes off as sad despite your victory and the wide grins on both of your faces. 

Jaehyun purses his lips and gives the two of you a nonchalant look. He’s avoided getting caught in the changing room quite well. For some reason, he’s glad that you’re winning but also dissatisfied about it. He would certainly feel different if he were participating in that race, wouldn’t he? He would win. Losing a competition is a huge blow to his ego. Lately, he seems to be losing a lot of races. The two of you have been growing closer and he doesn’t mind late night discussions about flawed systems and childhood memories; but the fact that you’re growing on him is something for him to be on edge about. He’s never felt so close to someone, and still so far.

“Oh, they have good chemistry, don’t they?” Doyoung comments beside Jaehyun, before taking a sip from his bottle.

“What chemistry?” Jaehyun snaps and Doyoung almost chokes on the water.

“Chill out, man.” Doyoung eyes Jaehyun’s figure in concern. “She’s like officially yours.”

Jaehyun refuses in a series of sputtering responses. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not jealous. I’m not that kind of man.”

“I didn’t paint you as that kind of man either,” Doyoung mutters before speaking up. “But love, Jaehyun. Love’s a weird thing.”

Jaehyunn ignores his comment and walks down to the grounds, jogging up to you. He immediately forgets to say anything at all. Smooth move, Yoonoh.

You just stick out your tongue at him subtly.

“I told you we’d win,” you say.

Jaehyun crosses his arms. “Congratulations. I thought you, quote, hate this stupid competition for dunces.”

You clear your throat and Dongmin laughs beside you. Before he can offer his bottle, Jaehyun offers his own in a rush. You raise an eyebrow but don’t question it.

“You guys really are a perfect pair.” Dongmin laughs. “Sometimes I wish Mijoo was my soulmate.”

You give him a pitiful smile. There go your happy feelings of victory.

“But I’m happy this way.” Dongmin nudges your shoulder with his. “Don’t give me that look.”

That is not the look he thinks you were giving. You smile. 

“What about this? We can go on a double date! Those are fun, right?” Dongmin muses, crossing his arms.

“No,” you and Jaehyun refuse in a panic, and Dongmin blinks in confusion at the overwhelming response.

“I'm more of a homebody,” you explain.

“Yeah, me too,” Jaehyun agrees.

It makes Dongmin laugh aloud. “Oh, fate didn’t go wrong with the two of you.”

Your smile wavers. Did it go so wrong with you and Dongmin? Jaehyun’s hand brushes yours and you look at him. A perfect side profile and flushed hot cheeks with dimples to die for. You wouldn’t mind being in love with him. You don’t mind love much at all. 

Shaking off the thought, you watch as Dongmin leaves the two of you to run to the changing rooms. Eyeing Jaehyun’s red team sweatshirt with “Management” in big typography over the chest, you look back up to his face. 

“Why did you jog over here so desperately?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Jealous?”

“Yes. I am irreparably in love with you.”

He leans in quickly and you flinch, making his dimples show up.

“Asshole,” you curse. “I’ll file you for harassment. Don’t do that again.”

“Isn’t it harassment when you feel me up while you draw—” Jaehyun leans in to whisper. “—the soulmark?” 

“I would never have my hands near your greasy existence if I could,” you huff, scandalized. 

But the thing is, Jaehyun is getting better at this game of flustering each other and you don’t like it one bit.

“Hey, you know Dongmin’s girlfriend?” he asks suddenly. 

You nod. “Kind of. I’ve seen her pictures on Instagram.”

Jaehyun pauses before humming in realization.

You cough. “Not that I was stalking them or something. Obviously.”

Jaehyun gives you a knowing smile but doesn’t question anything, much to your aggravation. It would’ve been better if you had a chance to prove you weren’t stalking them but then again, that is exactly what you were doing.

“Well, we went to the same college. Same major too.”

“Are you serious? Wait, how do you know? Does this mean you stalked their Instagram too?”

“Too?”

“Shut up.”

There’s a beat of silence. 

“She’s not exactly the evil homewrecker type,” he says.

“I know that,” you snap. If anything, you feel like the evil homewrecker even if Dongmin’s supposed to be your soulmate.

They’re so reckless. Jaehyun was right—you do blame them in a way. They don’t care who they trample under their nauseating parade of romance. But then again, that parade is better than a personal rejection.

“I’m just saying… don't hold it against them.”

“I don’t remember asking for advice, Jung Yoonoh.”

Jaehyun shrugs, dropping the issue. The preparations for the next race is starting and it has something to do with passing balls from basket to basket—you get bored already when you see Doyoung stretch before shaking hands with Taeyong.

“Wanna get ice-cream? We funded the food truck this year.” Jaehyun looks expectantly at you.

“Sure.” 

You contemplate holding his hand for a moment but let that thought bury itself. You don’t have to pretend right now. 

Much to your despair (or delight) however, Jaehyun takes your hand absentmindedly as he walks towards the exit. It’s not that you’ve never held hands before, it’s just that Jaehyun’s skin is soft against yours.

“I can’t believe you and Mijoo were in the same course.”

It seems she’s ahead of you in every direction you look to tread on. Of course, you will not be telling Jaehyun that. You don’t exactly feel jealousy—can’t feel jealousy when your life is perfect as it is. And for Jaehyun? You hate to admit it but you’d trade places with Mijoo any day.

“Well, she didn’t really like socializing back then so I didn’t know we were in the same program either.”

You chuckle, glancing down at your intertwined fingers despite your best efforts. It feels nice like this. It feels nice to be wanted by someone—even if it’s a lie.

“Do you think- Do you think they’re brave?” You ask. “They didn’t even hesitate to disregard the system.”

“I think people in love are always brave.”

You hum, looking down at your feet. All the more reason the system fucked up. You were never even supposed to be partnered up. You’re not brave—the face you put on is. The idea of love seems to get further and further away from you.

Just then, Jaehyun tugs at your hand, walking slightly faster and making you complain as you jog to catch up with his long strides. The food truck is fairly large, on the street outside to the stadium entrance. February is catching up with its heat and you curse at global warming for this hot winter day.

“You can take up to five scoops of different flavours,” he informs you, grinning sheepishly. “I guess the cups aren’t large enough for beyond that.”

“I didn’t know you were this passionate about ice-cream,” you say.

“Sicheng rubbed off on me.”

You laugh. IT must have given Sicheng enough stress to develop a sweet tooth. You love the HR Department when you look at the others in your company.

Jaehyun has a nice smile. You don’t know why you think that but you do and now you can’t focus on anything apart from the pink dust sprinkled over his cheeks and the handsome dimples that accompany. You don’t want to stare but clearly, Jaehyun must have been blessed by some divide being if not for fate. Maybe he’s a mess up like you. As far as you know, his soulmate doesn’t exist. That little red heart is so simple that none of the soulmate designs match it.

A rather repulsing part of you is happy about it. You like the feel of Jaehyun’s hands. You like the way he looks at you. You wouldn’t mind it if he were yours.  

Jaehyun’s house is as cosy as his mother makes you feel. It’s been a while since you’ve been home and if you were perhaps less emotionally constipated, you would have tears welling up in your eyes. There’s quite a few relatives too but then again, every Asian family jumps at the chance to celebrate something as mediocre as engagements and marriage and soulmate findings. Apparently, hormones are perfectly fine to them once you’re not teenagers anymore.

This isn’t so bad. What was so scary about meeting parents again? Jaehyun’s dad did challenge you with a questionnaire but lucky for you, you know exactly how interviews work. You’ve got enough information on Jaehyun from the man himself for this visit. The briefing he gave you was boring though; you already know what you need to know about Jaehyun.

You sit at the table, while most of the other guests work in the kitchen. Jaehyun’s mother asks you questions about your life, friendly and welcoming in every way possible. Mothers are truly god-sent. You wonder how she produced someone as far from divine as Jaehyun. (Except in looks, perhaps.)

You say that out loud and get a sharp quip from Jaehyun, his mother’s eyes lighting up at your childish interaction.

“Oh my, fate is never wrong!” She remarks with a wide smile. “I’ve never seen Jaehyun open up so much with anyone before. He was such a shy boy in school, you know? All the girls would send letters and confessions and he would just turn red in the face.”

“Mom.” He smiles all too sweet at her but you can see the panic in his eyes.

She rolls her eyes before turning to you. “Darling, you have no idea how proud I feel to see him this at ease. I was honestly getting tired of all the ‘your son is so polite and well-mannered’ comments. Some bickering ought to do him good.”

“Mom,” he repeats, straightening. “I think auntie needs some help setting up the table.”

“Don’t shoo me away yet. I have to tell (name) about the time you were elected class representative in middle school. And all those sports and acting awards.”

“You don’t have to advertise me, Mom,” he says, dropping his face into his hands to rub at his eyes, already growing tired. “I’m already- I’m already hers.”

His mother coos and apart from the expected deep red flush on Jaehyun’s skin, you find yourself feeling hot in the face too. Jaehyun’s aunt calls for his mother right then and you watch as she makes her way to the kitchen entrance, the two women glancing at you and giggling to each other over some shared words.

Jaehyun takes the opportunity to grab your hand and walk away to a more obscure part of the house upstairs. With significantly less relatives, it should be a good hiding spot unless discovered by his giggling cousins that he refuses to introduce you to. 

“Aw, what a shy baby,” you coo, smiling at the thought of a younger, easily-flustered Jaehyun.

His ears are bright red and you think that he’s still easily flustered. He just doesn’t show it much anymore—there’s only one dead giveaway.

“Forget everything my mom said,” he instructs. “It’s not important information.”

“Oh, no, darling. Your mother is a gold mine of vital information. You know what? I’m going to go chat her up right now. I’m sure you were quite the teenage dream I should know about.”

Jaehyun grips your wrist before you can escape, pulling your closer.

“Don’t.”

You don’t know if it’s the proximity or the fact that there are most definitely a few family members that could walk in right now—but you find yourself embarrassed as you look at his face. It’s very pleasant, handsome even, and the strands of his hair look irresistibly soft from this distance. You reach your hand out and brush the hair out of his eyes, almost instinctively. 

“You have nice eyes, Jaehyun,” you say out loud, not sure why. He doesn’t fluster this time but it makes you all the more aware of your nearness.

Your eyes glance at the bottom of the staircase to see a little girl, around nine, hiding from behind the wall that separates the dining room and the kitchen. You return your gaze to Jaehyun with a smirk.

"We should kiss right now. Your little cousin's watching."

Jaehyun looks mildly disgusted. "Why would I want to kiss you in front of my cousin?"

You roll your eyes. “You don't get it, do you? The fastest way to convince a family is through rumours.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. "So?"

"Oh my god, you're an idiot. Nosy cousins are the most effective way to spread rumours."

"Ah." Jaehyun looks enlightened enough for you to continue.

"Okay, but first you need to have these mints." You take out the emergency mints from your purse.

"What? I don't need mints. I have nice smelling breath.”

"Everyone needs mints, Jaehyun. Especially men."

Jaehyun sighs heavily. You take the opportunity to grab his wrist and pull him into a corner. 

"Have this mint or else."

You hold his face between your thumb and forefingers, cheeks squishing under the pressure as you force a mint in. He lets you do it for some reason, looking lost as he gazes at you. 

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh my, you're enjoying this. Pervert."

"Wha—what? You have to stop thinking you're hot shit, oh my god. I just got distracted for a bit."

"By me, right?"

"No! I just zoned ou—you're enjoying this."

You bite down your smile but a giggle escapes you anyway. Jaehyun rolls his eyes though he smiles, looking far too close to irresistible when his dimples show.

"You can't keep teasing me," he says, voice low.

"I've been doing it for two years. I'm pretty sure I can do it for at least two more."

Jaehyun scoffs, laughing at your statement. "You know what? I'm going to get back at you from now on. I've been so lenient."

You snort before pressing the back of your fingers to your nose. "You? You're going to get back at me? You’re good at lip service, Jaehyun."

“Huh. You might be right about that.”

There's a beat of silence and you look at him expectantly. In the next beat of your heart (or lack thereof), he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours, surprising the life out of you as your back hits the wall. It's not just a touch either, his mouth moves over yours and when your knees feel weak, you reluctantly admit that the rumour about Jung Yoonoh being a good kisser is true. Maybe his body count isn't a lower-end single digit after all.

He pulls apart with a short smile tugging at his lips. "Satisfied?"

You sputter out a response before clearing your throat. “I- I don’t think anyone really saw us in this corner.”

Jaehyun makes a low humming sound. “Or you could just say you want me to kiss you again? I know I’m a good kisser.”

“Fuck off.” You punch his chest, eliciting a quiet grunt from him.

You move away from him, peeking from behind the wall. Oh, she saw it alright. The giggling gives it away and the fact that a few more younger cousins have gathered. This is ridiculous. The fact that you wouldn’t mind more is even worse.

You turn back to Jaehyun with steel-set eyes. “No more kissing. Ever. Never again. Kissing is officially banned.”

Jaehyun looks perplexed. “I thought that was a good kiss. Did you not enjoy it? What do you mean no kissing?”

“And I take it back.” The heat on your face is still burning steadily. 

“Oh, I see. You liked it so much that you’re embarrassed.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“So I’m right?”

You roll your eyes and quickly walk down the stairs, a few words of complaint left hanging in the air as Jaehyun follows behind, stumbling over the steps.

Jaehyun likes how comfortable this is. He doesn’t mind glaring daggers at each other but this is fun too. It’s like he doesn’t have to be careful about the lines he might be crossing—there aren’t any damn lines at all. He can’t call it love, at least not by definition, but something is there. Something that is solid enough and heavy enough. Something he would be ready to hold on to.

You laugh at a joke Jaehyun’s dad makes. A family is the only place to feel at home. It might not be yours but maybe at the end of the night, you can convince them to disown Jaehyun and adopt you as their child instead. His cousins seem to be interested in the same things you were as a high schooler and it surprised you. Your job lets you advise the older cousins in a fairly friendly fashion. The little ones seem to like your dress and you find them far too adorable with their pink cheeks and dimples, much like Jaehyun’s. Speaking of which, he definitely got them from his dad. You look around and wonder how Jaehyun has so many female cousins and not an inkling about how women work. 

It doesn’t hurt anymore that Dongmin discarded you so recklessly.

He’s wrong. Jaehyun’s wrong. It doesn’t hurt—didn’t hurt right now at the very least. When Jaehyun kissed you, you didn’t think of Dongmin or his girlfriend or anyone else. You thought that Jaehyun’s skin is somehow always the right temperature. 

You shake your head. Jaehyun drives your getaway car and you shouldn’t get too comfortable in its worn-out leather seats. This shouldn’t be any different to you; you aren’t supposed to find love in every corner. This was all a survival instinct. 

The more stories Jaehyun’s mother shares with you over dinner, the more you find it comfortable to be here. You don’t feel this welcome in your own apartment (although, there isn’t exactly anyone else living there but you and the goddamn pigeon that wakes you up at six in the morning). The more the night progresses, the more you want to believe in this lie. Jaehyun glances at you from time to time, his gaze neither uncomfortable nor harsh and you smile at him when he does. Right now, there is no loneliness and the air is warm and smells of freshly cooked food; the way familial love works is such a mystery. You feel content.

“Why are we doing this again?” you lean in and ask Jaehyun, eyes focused on the TV as he tries to fix it.

“Because I need to get out of work, and fulfilled soulmates get a day off on Valentine’s day.”

You nod. “Your apartment kind of stinks. I feel sorry for Sicheng.”

“This is clean,” he defends, pointing at the lack of any visible mess in his room. His work table, however, has too many items scattered over it to be called neat. There’s a fairly large TV attached to the wall and you’re a little jealous about it. You only ever watch shows on your (quite beloved albeit small) laptop. The blinds aren’t fully closed, the evening city lights trying their best to pry their pervasive fingers in and add something more to the peach hue of Jaehyun’s room.

The doorbell rings just in estimated time for food delivery, a sigh leaving your mouth along with a ‘finally’. His place is strangely comfortable and much less of the war zone that you expected. There’s no reason to feel awkward, really, or even the bubbling in your stomach. You’re not seventeen, in your crush’s house. Jaehyun isn’t even someone you like that way.

It’s just two friends hanging out and watching a movie and doing other friendly activities. Two friends hanging out on Valentine's day. Two friends who have kissed more than once.

What do lovers do anyway?

This thing with Jaehyun has turned into clandestine smiles at the office building, subtle texts of ‘did you eat?’ and ‘good morning, idiot’, racing hearts at brushing hands on the occasional off-work hangouts (you refuse to call them “dates”) and overall, a lot more pink hearts floating over his head when you see him. It’s positively appalling. 

You don’t mind it one bit.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” The delivery man wishes as he leaves and you feel a sudden rage bubble up in you. 

“Ah, does he think every couple celebrates Valentine’s day? And just because we’re in the same apartment means we’re a couple? Wow.” You cross your arms, scoffing. “Who’s he to wish me?”

“Why… Why are you getting mad?” Jaehyun asks quietly, slightly confused.

You glare at him, your anger not quite dissipated and walk back into his room, placing the box of confectionaries on the bedside table with a loud thud. Jaehyun follows, placing the drinks rather clumsily beside it. He gives you one last look of concern before settling down on his bed.

You let out another huff of complaint.

"Does everything have to be heart-shaped?"

You stare at the nauseating display of baked goods delivered in a pretty heart-shaped box. The brownie is in a clear plastic box that has a tiny bouquet of hearts atop it, the coffee cups have heart stickers around the rim, and the pastry itself is heart-shaped or rather, two halves of a heart. One of them is strawberry pink and the other chocolate brown.

“You seem… suddenly fired up,” Jaehyun comments quietly.

You don’t really care if you look crazy to him right now; he’s already seen the worse parts of you. You’re just so annoyed at all this red and pink that was delivered. Aren’t cafes supposed to stick with that beige-cream palette? 

While you contemplate, Jaehyun tears the little sugar packet and attempts to open the lid of the cup at the same time, your blood pressure rising at the sight because you were half sure he’d spill the drink. After much difficulty, he shakes the packet trying to get just enough sugar but of course, like the clumsy oaf he is, he misses almost entirely, spilling sugar over his coffee table. It’s oddly endearing but that’s a thought you’ll keep to yourself.

He turns to you with a sheepish grin and you give him a look of distaste.

“You are a sorry excuse of a person, Jaehyun.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t mess this up.”

You turn to look him in the eyes, the honey shade alluring under warm apartment lights. They really are pretty. 

“I, and every other sane human being, would not mess up adding sugar to a cup of coffee.”

“You faltered for a moment there.”

That was not the reason you faltered. You roll your eyes and look away, taking a sip of your drink and sighing at the taste.

“How do you even like Americanos? Don’t you like a bit of cream and sweetness?”

 “I don’t really care for bitterness,” he answers.

“Wow, you must be a masochist.”

“And it’s quite obvious you’re a sadist.”

You snicker. “That makes us quite the pair.”

“I would like that sentence in a non-BDSM context, thank you.”

Jaehyun turns on the TV and the Netflix logo animation pops up. You raise an eyebrow at his ‘Continue Watching’ list, eyeing Bridegerton and Sweet Home, and wondering if he could be any more of an enigma. You can’t possibly figure him out at this point. You groan when he picks a title.

“Ugh. Do we have to watch a romantic comedy?”

“What? They’re funny. And I thought you liked those 2000’s movies.”

You believed in unicorns and sock goblins and love back then too. These days, you hate to see other people in love, especially when it’s fake. The movies you loved are now the movies you hate. The couples you eyed with delight at parks and cafes are now the bane of your existence. In fact, you’d go as far as to say that you enjoy the digital fireworks from a couple having a massive online breakup. Things falling apart are entertaining when it’s not happening to you.

You purse your lips. Can't you see other people happy without wanting to tear it down for yourself?

“Fine. But I’ll pick the 2000’s romcom.”

Jaehyun shrugs and hands over the remote. You see Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds on the poster and click on it immediately. The Proposal has a good enough comedy to romance ratio, in your opinion.

“I’m kind of surprised you came,” he says quietly.

“Why?” You raise an eyebrow. “Is it because of the suggestive nature of visiting someone’s apartment on Valentine’s day? Did you think we’d be doing something… more fun?”

You lean in and bat your eyelashes suggestively, although you’re clearly joking.

“I think you should know better than to get mouthy with me,” he answers as he leans in further, making your heartbeat hike at the proximity. Maybe he’s figured you out. Wouldn’t it be so nice to figure each other out at the same time—like puzzle pieces fitting together?

You move away from him. “Well, it’s not like I can go anywhere else. And I didn’t want to stay in my own apartment.”

“Maybe you enjoy my company?”

“Look, I would be sipping my coffee at a perfectly aesthetic cafe if it weren’t Valentine’s day.”

He raises an eyebrow at your nonsensical declaration and you sigh, trying to explain yourself.

“Cafes just terrorize the single folk on Valentine’s day. You should always go with Netflix,” you say.

“And chill?”

“Do you even know what that means?”

“As I’ve told you so many times, I am not stupid.”

You inhale, an idea presenting itself.  

“Hey, since we’re technically a couple, shouldn’t you be sharing your Netflix password with me?” you ask, pressing your lips into your cutest smile.

“No.”

“You’re so stingy,” you mutter. It was worth a shot.

Jaehyun laughs, your hand reaching out to poke his dimples but you stop yourself. You weren’t supposed to get this comfortable. This wasn’t your place to be. Lost in thought, the moving screen leaves you unfazed and you can’t look at him anymore. However, Jaehyun reaches out right then and wipes at the space beside your lips, your focus lifting from the beginning scenes of The Proposal and latching onto Jaehyun’s lips.

There’s a pause, your head clearing itself of thoughts when you make eye contact with him. Soft hair, doe eyes, full lips and dimples—he’s so damn attractive, it hurts your existence. Does he have to be this close to you? You have mixed feelings about that look in his eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers suddenly.

“Yes,” you answer.

If you look from a rational point of view, you should not have said that. You should have said anything but that. But you don’t want to think right now. Jaehyun’s touch is warm over your skin as his hand rests under your jaw and the other on your waist.

You should not have said that. But you feel loved.

Somewhere along, you find yourself parting only to kiss again, the feeling of skin so delightful in a way you’ve never experienced. Your shirt hikes up and you see Jaehyun eye the little heart with the arrow—the sign you so despised with a gentle smile.

“It’s pretty,” he whispers.

It’s pretty but it isn’t his. He doesn’t have to look at you like that—he’s come a long way from nervous glances and now he’s the one making you nervous. Just say it isn’t love and it will be alright.

You part, sobering up for a moment and you disentangle your limbs to sit at the side of his bed.

“What’s- What’s wrong?” Jaehyun whispers.

You exhale.

“All my life, I wait and when it comes, it’s all wrong,” you say, staring at your lap. Self-pity is the most disgusting kind of pity to feel. You’re past crying at things like this. You’re past crying for an ounce of romance, every time you listen to a love song on the radio or look at an Instagram post of a couple or pass by lovers on the sidewalk content with each other. You don’t even have cats to return home to. Modern loneliness is wearing you down but you can’t believe in fairytales anymore.

He scoffs, smiling bitterly. “I don’t even know if this is worth losing my dignity over.”

“Jaehyun—”

“We can’t pretend anymore—I can’t pretend anymore,” Jaehyun exhales. “I want you enough to forget the system. Give me an answer. Please.”

You don’t mind forgetting the system right now. Jaehyun’s lips are always the right temperature; the warmth of his body seeps through his shirt as you press yourself to him in a hug. He’s perfect and right now, you want to believe he’s perfect for you—even if he isn’t, you want to believe it into existence.

You cup Jaehyun’s cheeks, unsaid emotion in his doe eyes, and kiss him. This time, you mean it with every ounce of your being. There’s no more flustering each other, just the hot flush of intimacy when you feel skin that doesn’t burn you. It’s just the right feeling. There’s no way this can be wrong. 

Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself? You wish the voice would pipe down. It’s a coward, fearing fate just as everyone else does. But you are better than that, and this feeling is too enjoyable to let go. You don’t want this to fade.

Just then, Dongmin’s face comes to mind and you think that maybe if you kiss someone else with all you have, you don’t have to think of your shortcomings ever again.

Jaehyun pulls apart and you miss the warmth.

“You’re not… You’re not thinking of me, are you?” he asks. 

You don’t answer, even if the silence is overwhelming.

“I’d rather not have you close your eyes and think of someone else when I’m in front of you.”

“I’m sorry” is all you can say.

“You can at least pretend to love me.” His voice is a hoarse whisper. “Could. It’s not like this was ever supposed to work out.”

You gulp, looking away. “Jaehyun, come on. That’s not like you. We were- we were just… having fun.”

He takes a deep breath. “It hurts to not be wanted by someone you want. You know that. So why are you doing this to me?”

Because misery likes company.

“I’m sorry.”

It seems the phrase you barely uttered when you were younger is tumbling out of your lips in a mixture of grief and pity. Perhaps it’s karma. Perhaps it’s fate. Perhaps it’s just the consequences of your mistakes.

Jaehyun parts his lips, a sigh departing. He leans in again, pushing away all of his thoughts. A little more hurt won't kill him tonight. How and when did you bring him down to his knees?

However, he's stopped by your hands against his shoulders, his lips hovering over yours.

"Let's stop," you say. "You're right."

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

“I don’t- I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.”

You wish you could be brave enough to burn the instruction pamphlet from destiny. But right now, you need to get away from Jaehyun, away from any more misery business.

“I’ll get going,” you say, gathering your stuff. 

Jaehyun hesitates but doesn’t stop you. He would never stop you, can’t stop so how could he even dream of stopping fate? This can never work out. It felt right in the moment but you don’t know anything more than that. You can’t close your eyes and pray everything disappears. No one else will solve your problems for you, you know that.

It’s time you start fixing the mess you made. You leave with a polite goodbye and hear a loud sigh behind you once the door is closed. Blinking away the urge to walk back in, you take long and quick strides to the elevator. You’re going to fix this.

Maybe if Lady Gaga’s ‘Poker Face’ wasn’t blasting at full volume at this stupid office party, you could be thinking a little straighter.

He was right. You can’t pretend anymore. There were thousands of ways this could have gone better. You didn’t have to pretend to be soulmates when you’re not. You could’ve discarded your belief in the whole system like Dongmin and Mijoo and dated someone out of spite. You didn’t have to drag Jaehyun into your sorry mess. You need to take out the nail you hammered into your own foot.

It’s the first time you’ve visited the rooftop restaurant from the company’s subsidiary chain of high-end restaurants but you imagined it would be bigger. It’s the news’ fault for making this place seem like a football field. However, you might be feeling that way because the distance between you and Jaehyun is suffocatingly small as is the distance with Dongmin. You don’t need to see Jaehyun tonight.

You don’t intend to make your confession a public affair and you certainly don’t believe in tack things like atonement. However, improvement begins with a step in the right direction. Maybe you’ll be a better person after this. Maybe you’ll still be as annoying and pushy as ever. You need to get it off your chest so you can proceed with the already tedious journey that comes with a soulmate rejection. You wonder why there’s so many man-made laws about soulmates when fate has made it complicated enough as it is. Love is the same as legalese when it comes to this system.

You flit about the crowds, smiling and greeting people and swerving away from Jaehyun every time he tries to approach you. You’re trying to make a good decision for once. He better not intrude. You’re wearing pink too, for the first time in a while: a satin shirt, pants and blazer set in dull pink.

“Dongmin,” you say, pulling him by the sleeve of his blue tux, and away from the rest of the HR team. “I have to show you something.”

“Hm? Show me?” He blinks at you. 

You get him to follow you to the inside the premises, stopping when you’re far into a 

“Uh?” Dongmin looks around before leaning in to whisper. “You’re not plotting to murder me, are you?”

You blink, and he laughs at you incredulously. “Why are you so serious?”

“I was lying,” you rush. “With Jaehyun. He’s not my soulmate. You are.”

Dongmin blinks in confusion. “Are… you joking? That was a weird joke but it could pass as funny—”

“Dongmin.”

You pull out your shirt from your pants, exposing the tattoo on your hip. It’s the little arrowed heart that has been plaguing you for years but now when you look at it, you feel no animosity. After all, it’s been through the same things you have. 

Dongmin’s face falls into stunned silence, eyes fixated on your waist.

“That’s- That’s my—what is this?”

Russian roulette is certainly not the same without a gun.

“I lied, Dongmin,” you answer, fixing your shirt back in. “I was so afraid of your rejection that I made an even larger fool of myself.”

His initial shock seems to have partly subsided.

“You… Why didn’t you tell me?” He looks momentarily hurt.

“You have Mijoo, Dongmin. I can’t ruin something like that.”

A love that doesn’t need fate to fix it.

Dongmin glances away in guilt and sighs, though the sound is croaky. This must be more than what he can take.

“I’m sorry,” he says, haltingly. “I hurt you, didn’t I? When I thought I was being brave, I hurt you instead.”

You smile bitterly. “We all hurt someone, Dongmin. I still have to fix that one for myself.”

He scans your face, lips trembling slightly as unspoken words die on them.

“We’ll tend to the legal stuff later, hm? No compensation. We can file a mutual rejection.”

“But—”

“Shh. I’m happy enough as coworkers and I get paid more than enough for this job. Might get a promotion soon too.”

You wink at him with an added finger gun, trying to play it cool. Despite everything, a weight feels lifted from your shoulders. Now that you are truly alone, you might as well embrace this growing loneliness crawling under your skin. Discomfort could be something you can get used to. 

When you get back to the warmly lit rooftop, the HR team looks at you curiously. You have the most self-destructive thought you’ve had in a while and tell yourself, you might as well if you've come this far. This is it. This is your social death. Honesty is the best policy, unfortunately.

“Dongmin and I have the same soulmate mark,” you announce. “We’re soulmates but we’ll sign a mutual rejection.”

Doyoung looks almost like he’ll faint and Soojin’s mouth is so wide open, you could practice throwing some mini basketballs in. This is your team—almost a second family, and it’s time you stop trying to hide yourself or disguise your feelings as something they’re not. They’ll get over it, as will you.

“J-Jaehyun?” Soojin looks to your side and you turn to find Jaehyun frowning.

“You could’ve discussed this with me,” he says, an odd sound of relief in his laugh. 

It hurts to look at him but you muster up your strength.

“I’m sorry,” you say, facing him. “I didn’t want to drag you into this hell with me.”

Into this loveless hell made for you.

“(name).”

It’s so painfully quiet in this corner; there are so many eyes on you and only the hurt taking shape in Jaehyun’s eyes knock some sense into you. 

“I’ll leave first,” you say, bowing as you take your leave.

You brisk up your pace and exit the venue as quickly as you can and into the building corridor.

Unfortunately for you, you recognize the pair of footsteps that follow you—both of them having their timings wrong. Boys don’t chase after the girl when she’s walking away. Boys should leave a girl alone when she feels like she’s about to cry.

You turn to face two men and groan internally. This is the worst possible situation—you’d rather crawl into a hole than look at either of them. The corporate light shines harshly on either of their faces but the look on them is so earnest, you want to close your eyes and scream. You don’t mind being alone. You were overstepping when you wished you weren’t.

“(name),” Dongmin starts. “I’m sorry it turned out this way. If you’d told me, we could have talked this out.”

A light scoff leaves Jaehyun and Dongmin purses his lips. It’s kind of funny watching both of their tall frames in hesitant postures and you cross your arms. You’re going to deal with this quickly like you always should have. If you’re dealing with fate, you need to have a clear head—and fortune doesn’t favour fools. Being with Jaehyun was nice but he is not yours. Dongmin may have been assigned to you but you’d rather not ruin someone’s relationship.

“What would we have talked about?” you ask. “Compensation charges? Apologies?”

You see a hint of positivity on Jaehyun’s face and turn to face him, frowning.

“And you. Don’t look so smug. You’re the reason I realized this crap. It hurts. Like hell.”

He opens his mouth but no words come when he’s far too taken aback. He can’t offer consolation now, not after everything. You knew this would happen. You would undoubtedly end up wishing you didn’t fall in love with him on the day you leave.

“(name). Listen to me,” Dongmin calls again, voice gentle.

Jaehyun sighs. “We’re both fucking this up, dude.”

Dongmin takes a sharp breath.

“You know, soulmates can be platonic,” he reasons, looking only at you. “People are made for each other differently and maybe you and I—”

“You’re just making her feel worse,” Jaehyun cuts him off.

“How do you know that?” Dongmin asks, finally turning to him. “Because you’ve spent a month or two with her? I’m her soulmate.”

“I think a month or two is much better than a stranger with the same damn birthmark.”

“Oh come on,” Dongmin scoffs. “The system exists for a reason.”

“I don’t give a shit about the system. The same as your girlfriend—oh, sorry, did you forget about her already?”

“It’s not like that.” Dongmin quietens. “We’ll figure something out.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. They’re worse than you are—honestly, you don’t know what you expected from the timid emotional maturity of men. Both of their polite facades have melted and you’re starting to miss their sweet-tempered work demeanour.

“Come with me,” Dongmin tells you.

He wraps his hand around your wrist and tugs, Jaehyun visibly tensing up at the gesture. He presses his tongue against his cheek in annoyance but refrains from doing anything rash. You feel sorry when you look at him.

“Dongmin,” you whisper. “Can we- can we have a moment?”

Dongmin nods in understanding and exits the hallway to cool off with a few splashes of water in the washroom.

“Would you go with him?” Jaehyun asks, jaw clenched. “An acquaintance as most? Are you willing to run into the arms of fate that you hated so much?”

He looks bitter and you can’t think of a sugar-coated response. You’ll just have to tell him how you feel.

“I need to sort things out, Jaehyun. This—”

You point from him to yourself.

“Couldn’t work out thanks to fate. Dongmin and I will never work out because he’s braver than I am. You know he’s doing all of that just so I don’t get hurt, right? He’s not suddenly in love with me.”

Jaehyun purses his lips, looking down to his feet. Is it so bad that he let jealousy get the best of his mouth? Envy isn’t so awful. He looks from your eyes to lips and wishes he were young enough to believe in fairytales.

“You don’t have to be brave,” he whispers. “You don’t have to be so brave to fall in love. You don’t have to be brave to stay with me.”

“We tried, Jaehyun. And we can’t cheat fate. That, at the very least, requires bravery.” 

You press your lips into a thin line. It hurts. It hurts so bad to look at him and face the consequences of this flawed design. It’s unfair. It’s unfair that you have to follow the rules even after trying your best to break them. 

“You wish you never met me, don’t you?” you whisper. “I made a mess.”

Before he responds, you bow in a short goodbye and walk towards the elevator. There’s no footsteps behind you, no Prince Charming. It’s just you and your high heels clacking against the cold marble as you head back to an empty home. You always thought freedom would feel different, that distance would give you perspective. It just feels awful when no one is around you at all. When you have no one to pick up morning calls from, receive texts from asking if you ate, spend time in peace without uttering a single word—are you free or are you lonely?

The rules state that the two of you are different. It is true. You are as different as love in real life and love in the movies; and neither of them have happy endings now.

You wish you drank some more last night if you were going to embarrass yourself like that. Thankfully, it’s the weekend and you have two more days to figure out how to face your coworkers. You frown when you think of Jaehyun. Were you wrong to tell him that you simply couldn’t choose him? What if fate is right and it falls apart? You stir your morning coffee, the will to drink it fading slowly. It’s already fallen apart—and it wasn’t fate who did that, it was you. Should you have taken his stupidly warm hands and asked him to follow you? You don’t understand how it works at all.

Centuries of questioning what love is, poking and prodding at it like a lab sample, and there’s still no perfect answer. Love is blind. Love is cruel. Love is a fever. Love is temporary insanity. Love is acceptance. Love will set you free. There’s just too many variations. You can never tell if fate is meant to make it easier or worse. 

No one questions you at the office and you're not sure if you’re glad or aggravated. Only Doyoung shoots you a pitiful look which you brush off and immediately get into work. Embarrassment is only real if you acknowledge it. However, every time Dongmin tries to talk to you, you ask for space and even alone in your thoughts, you don’t get it. They just have to drift to Jaehyun.

You wonder if what he said was true, that he wanted you enough to forget the system. It’s clearly ruined now. The spiral of thinking has you zoning out during work more often than not and even Doyoung ends up reprimanding you for your lack of focus. Sometimes you want to snap but other times, you’re just hopelessly reciting the events over and over in your head. This was supposed to happen, wasn’t it? You don’t even have the strength left in you to blame it all on Jaehyun.

You pace in the corridors after work, contemplating popping by the Marketing Department. What could go wrong? Sure, it was a little dramatic of you to leave like that but everything can be fixed, right? You groan. What you were supposed to be fixing, you made worse. Are your hands cursed or something? You shake your head, returning to your desk to gather your belongings and head home.

Unfortunately, the sight of Doyoung sitting in your chair alarms you and you stop a foot away. 

“If you’re going to reprimand me for watching cat videos instead of checking the employee records, I can assure you my efficiency is still top-notch.” 

“You’re—what? Never mind.” Doyoung shakes his head. “Can you give this ginseng pack to Jaehyun? I owe him.” 

Oh no. You know where this is going.

“You know I’m going to keep that for myself, right?” You make a face. “I’d rather die than face Jaehyun right now.”

Doyoung shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll be the one running to you. This is in case of an emergency.”

You give him a fake smile and Doyoung shakes his head. “Good to see you’re still great at pretending to be fine.”

You sigh. “Thanks for looking out for me, bossman.”

Doyoung blinks, hand covering his mouth when an audible gasp leaves him. “Woah. I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you thank me. But don’t call me bossman ever again.”

“Noted,” you say, taking your bag and leaving with a short goodbye. You’re lucky he lets you off work early, even if you never took it. Employees usually can’t leave until their superiors does and if you were a senior employee, you’d be giving your juniors quite the hell.

You seem to be good at concocting hellscapes. Perhaps, you should look for job openings in the underworld. One last thought of Jaehyun exits your head and you take the bus home, admiring the city you live in and the warmth of people and their relationships. You don’t feel jealous; you just bask in them for the time—be it a mother and her son or two bickering sisters or a lovely old couple. That’s how it’s meant to be, then. That’s how love works.

Jaehyun smacks his head against the sofa armrest for the fifteenth time in a row.

“Dude. You’re going to permanently ruin the fabric.” Sicheng says, eyes trained on his laptop screen.

“I should’ve said something more.” Jaehyun’s voice is so zombie-like, he thinks he should cast himself in the Train to Busan sequel as an extra.

“I’m glad I’m not you,” Sicheng mutters.

“Can you give me some sort of consolation, at least?”

“That’s not what I’m your friend for.”

Jaehyun sighs and resumes smacking the back of his head against the armrest. He really needs to figure this out. After all, he can’t really Google the solution to this.

“One thing doesn’t make sense,” Sicheng says, finally looking up from his screen. “Why do you have the same mark as (name)’s if you’re not soulmates?”

“You’re so incredibly—but adorably—stupid, Sicheng. She drew it in with a permanent marker. She kissed me too! It was sudden and weird but I didn’t mind it.

“Yikes.” Sicheng makes a face. “So… you didn’t take a shower for how long now?”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

“The ink hasn’t washed off. I heard you singing in the shower yesterday, how could you not have washed that off? Ugh. Don’t tell me you miss her.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen as he jumps up and rushes to the washroom. Looking into the mirror, the tattoo poking out from his T-shirt resembles yours a lot more than his. The arrow is still drawn in. Jaehyun’s shoulder slumps. He doesn’t know what he was expecting. Turning the tap and letting the water flow, he wets his hand and rubs at his collarbone to remove the arrow.

Except it doesn’t budge. His skin turns painfully red from the rubbing but the ink, which usually washes off in less than five minutes has no intention of leaving. Did you use a different brand of marker the last time? When was it anyway? 

Jaehyun breathes out, firming his resolve. He needs to be with you.

Sicheng blinks in surprise as Jaehyun grabs his car keys, not even bothering to change from an all-black getup of a T-shirt and jeans like some emo teenager, and shuts the front door behind him. Not even a ‘goodbye, I’m leaving!’

Sicheng sighs. Love makes people crazy. He’s not falling into that trap when his soulmate literally doesn’t exist, the same as his soulmark. It seems the contestants in this game are full of exceptions.

You hit your head against your pillow. To visit Jaehyun or not to. You haven’t left your bed since you woke up around seven in the morning, and now it’s ten. Your bedsheets are a mess because you’ve rolled around too much on them (in despair, not with someone unfortunately).

You need the quiet sometimes to let your mind rest, to let your heart rest. You needed time. But maybe it’s been long enough and now you’re just searching for excuses to hold on to your last shred of dignity.

You lift your head up and glare at the box of ginseng on your table. Should you? You reluctantly get up, feeling a sting of pain in your back for lying in that awkward position for so long. Right when you’ve put on your slippers, the doorbell rings and you groan. How did the package you stress-ordered last night arrive so early? These deliveries are getting faster and faster.

You walk to the front door and open it thoughtlessly, freezing up at the sight. Your first reaction is to cover yourself. You’re not exactly your best-looking version at the moment. Jaehyun’s dark circles almost match yours but he’s better dressed than you are—in a black T-shirt and jeans while you’re wearing a Gudetama pajama set.

“We’re not just friends,” he blurts. “We’re not soulmates but we’re not just friends.”

“Huh? Oh my god, this is the most embarrassing I’ve looked.”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows in a question look. 

“That’s not important! Look—”

He pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. His hair is so disheveled and messy, he barely even looks like the same well-maintained marketing employee you know. 

Jaehyun tugs at his T-shirt, pulling down to reveal his tattoo—albeit with your marker-drawn arrow through it. He does have a pretty well-built chest, you note before chiding yourself for getting distracted.

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you, uh, need help scrubbing it off or something?”

“No.” Jaehyun lets out a huff of exasperation. “It won’t wash off. If it’s what I think it is—”

“Miracles don’t happen to people like us, Jaehyun,” you say quietly.

He gulps. “I don’t know about miracles but… I just needed an excuse to see you, I guess.”

You look up, a rose blush over Jaehyun’s bare face, and run your finger over the tattoo, sighing at the warmth of his skin. Your hand travels up to his cheek, resting atop it while you muster enough courage to look Jaehyun in his chocolate brown eyes.

You pull away. This isn’t the time. You still have an internal crisis to sort out. Are you even deserving of love? It makes much more sense if the answer is no. 

However, Jaehyun pulls you in by the waist, his right palm warm against your cheek.

“I don’t care what anyone says.” He runs his thumb over your cheek in a painfully fond manner. “You’re worth more than the price I pay for this.”

He leans in and presses his lips to yours swiftly, your head clearing of thoughts almost immediately. It feels so right, you can feel the spark, the red thread around your skin, hear the bells. This kiss was far more perfect than it was supposed to be.

You part, gasping. Jaehyun blinks at you, breathing heavily.

“Kiss me again.”

Jaehyun does as told and you might just believe in miracles this way. With his hand around your waist and in your hair, his lips over yours and the low rumbling laughter that parts the two of you—you might just believe in miracles. You might just believe that love isn't something you deserve by earning.

“I like this,” Jaehyun comments. “I like the way this is.”

You press your finger to his lips. “I think you should shut up and kiss me some more.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I know you’re sexually repressed as of now, but that’s no reason to take advantage of me.”

You scowl, punching him on the shoulder and moving away from him.

“Come back,” he complains in a quiet voice.

“I am not going to do that.” You cross your arms.

“Come on,” he mutters, inching closer as you inch away, till your back hits the couch and you tumble backwards onto it, your legs on the headrest. Jaehyun laughs at your position, leaning in to keep his hands on either side of you, a doting look over him.

“Hey, did you know if I kicked my leg up, it would hit you in the balls?”

“Please don’t do that.”

You giggle, Jaehyun’s nose rubbing against yours in a bunny kiss. 

“Is your place usually this much of a mess?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. 

You sigh heavily. “I was having a bad day, okay? Or… a bad weekend.”

“Do you even have food?”

You look away, crossing your arms. Jaehyun sighs and shakes his head.

“We should go grocery shopping. How do you live like this?”

You scoff. “Oh, spare me the lecture. I’ve heard enough horror stories about your room from Sicheng. You can’t hide from me by sweeping your clothes and belongings into his room.”

“Snitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You can’t help the giggle that erupts from your mouth and you immediately cover it. Jaehyun smiles at you fondly and you look away, unable to bear that gaze of his.

“It really won’t wash off, by the way,” Jaehyun states, scratching at his collarbone.

You narrow your eyes, smacking his arms away to roll off the couch. Taking his wrist, you walk into your bathroom and turn the tap on. Something’s strange. But also strangely right.

“Look, I already tried—ow! Don’t rub that hard!”

You blink in confusion, trying again despite Jaehyun looking like his soul already left him. It doesn’t work. Your marker isn’t even that permanent. At least his regenerating skin cells should get rid of that arrow. Unless the ink was deep enough to pierce all the layers, as in a soulmark.

You gasp.

“You were right!”

“I told you s—”

"That's the point, isn't it?" you say, realization dawning as your eyes widen. "To see if people will question the system at all."

Jaehyun shrugs. “Maybe.”

"Oh, all those unhappy marriages that could have been saved," you say as you exhale. 

Jaehyun chuckles lightly. "I think that the point was, people can be happy without their soulmates. It's whoever you make one out of. Or I Googled too many articles on anti-soulmate propaganda."

You smile, leaning in to press a kiss against his cheek. Watching his ears turn bright red is the cherry on top.

“Okay, fake-boyfriend-turned-real-soulmate.” You give him a cheeky smile. “Did you rethink your decision about sharing that Netflix password with me? I get the girlfriend free pass, right? Right?”

“I didn’t even share it with my mother.”

You whack his arm, him possibly used to it by now, judging from his lack of response. 

“Idiot.” You cross your arms. “We can Netflix… and chill then. God, I can’t believe I said that.”

Jaehyun breaks into a chuckle. “You’re so pushy.”

 “And you like being pushed around, nerd.”

“Who said that?”

Jaehyun wraps his arms around you, spinning you so that your back hits the door. He leans in to kiss you again and you smack your palm over his pouted lips. You laugh at his face, his eyes brimming with confusion.

“You’re in my apartment. I make the rules here. Think twice before you start a game with me, Mister.”

His shoulders droop. “Fine. Can you at least let me kiss you four times a day?”

“Five times, if you ask.”

He laughs before leaning in again. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“You are one hell of a woman. Emphasis on hell.”

You laugh and grab his collar, pulling him in for the kiss that seals this deal.

You realize a few things in the moment: a) You don’t have to play roulette to find love, b) You don’t have to pick your poison to find love, and most importantly c) Love is right where you make something of it. Fate is still not in your good books but if it bends to you this way, you don’t mind at all. If Jaehyun kisses you like this every day, you don’t mind one bit. 

[rjalker]

yeah I hate Star Trek.

It's literally just setting Data up to fail. He literally can't do anything right as far as the ableist writers are concerned, and that's the whole joke. We're supposed to be laughing at Data for this.

This is one of the most unapologetically horrible examples of the ableism in Star Trek directed at Data. The goalposts shift so no matter what he does, he's always wrong.

This entire scene exists for the sole purpose of making Data, who is blatantly autistic coded, the butt of the joke. If this weren't the purpose of the scene, then instead of reacting with shock and anger, everyone, Beverly included, would be laughing their heads off and the whole thing would devolve into everyone pushing eachother into the water and starting a splashing fight.

But no. The entire joke is that Data's useless and will never be good enough and will never fit in, so they all have to react like he just tried to fucking kill her -.-

[ID: A video clip titled "Star Trek TNG Data Attempts To Be Funny Star Trek Generations"

The video starts out with a black title screen that reads, "'Star Trek Generations' Data attempts to be funny".

The scene then opens with the characters on a boat in the middle of the ocean, wearing naval costumes.

Data approaches Beverly and asks, "Doctor, I must confess, I am uncertain as to why someone falling into freezing water is amusing?"

While he speaks, Beverly smiles widely, trying to contain laughter.

"Oh, it's all in good fun, Data." She says, still grinning.

"Fun?" He questions.

"Fun!" She repeats.

Data shakes his head, frowning. "I do not understand."

Beverly shakes her head in exasperation, and, still smiling, says, "You got to get into the spirit of things, learn to be spontaneous! Live in the moment! Do something unexpected! Get it?" She is still grinning happily.

Data repeats back, "Got it", though he is still frowning slightly. After a pause, he reaches out and pushes Beverly over the side of the ship.

She screams loudly, and several other characters gasp loudly in alarm.

Worf, who was climbing back up the side of the ship, reaches out with one arm to try and catch her, but grunts in pain and falls back into the water instead.

Beverly hits the water and goes under, and the camera goes back up to the ship, to show Deanna and Geordi staring down into the water in horror.

Beverly resurfaces, spluttering and exclaiming wordlessly.

Data steps closer to the wall to peer down, smiling proudly. Beverly continues to exclaim as she treads water angrily.

Data, still smiling, turns back to face the rest of the ship, expecting to be met with the same laughter and cheering as when Worf was pushed in.

Instead, his friends all stare at him in horrified, open-mouth silence.

The smile falls from Data's face.

Geordi approaches and says, sounding shocked and upset, "Data...that was not funny!"

They both look over the side of the ship to where Beverly is still exclaiming, and the scene transitions to the two of them sitting at a table while Data's cat runs over to greet them.

Geordi is speaking, his tone serious and upset. "Whatever posessed you to push her in the water in the first place?"

Data, hesitant, responds, "I was attempting to 'get into the spirit of things'. I thought it would be amusing." His cat is nuzzling his face and he speaks, and he scolds, "Spot," beforem moving the cat back to the floor.

"Is she still angry?" Data then asks.

Geordi responds, tone still serious and reproachful, "I'd stay out of sickbay for a couple of days if I were you."

Data is left to stare in silence, not understanding what he did wrong, and the video ends.

End ID.]

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Names and Faces

Context:  Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

Word Count: 6,477

---------------

It goes like this:

Nobody wants to separate Anakin from the children in his care until they know more about why he’s here. The gamble paid off, to some degree, and he thanks the Force that it did.

He hasn’t felt that cold in years.

He knows the logic of why the Mandalorians he’s fallen in with aren’t doing anything yet. He’s an obvious Jedi, and they don’t know why he’s here or what he’s doing. Hedging on the Mando’a and the cultural obligation to childcare hadn’t been anything close to sure, but it was... enough. He got lucky that these Mandalorians leaned on those obligations, at least to the point of keeping them all in the same room. He can sense that much, even before he opens his eyes, and he has to be grateful.

The looming hypothermia had probably nudged things in his favor.

Anakin opens his eyes to a guest room of a cell, something well-furnished and cozy, but definitely not meant to be something he can escape from. His saber is gone, and there are Force-nullifying cuffs on his wrists, and he’s pretty sure they’ve taken his--yep, vibroblade’s gone.

Fuck.

His body doesn’t want to move, and he’s still shivering a bit, but he’s mostly back to normal. When he sits up, he notices that there is, in fact, only one Force-nullifying cuff. They detached his arm.

He closes his eyes and breathes deep and tells himself it was probably medically necessary. Large pieces of metal aren’t great for maintaining homeostasis. He’ll get it back.

Probably.

“Ah!”

The voice makes him jolt, and his eyes fly open.

Two cribs, one much bigger than the other. Both are occupied. The larger one has bars, and through it...

“Snips,” he breathes, lurching to his feet and then crashing to his knees, about as graceful as a newborn eopie.

“Bah!”

“Just--just one second,” Anakin grits out, grimacing as he tries to pull himself to standing again. The fact that he’s down an arm doesn’t impact him much, but the shakiness of his legs is... a problem.

“Owwww,” Ahsoka coos with an exaggerated grimace, reacting to his pain with the innocent sympathy of a toddler. She looks, what, two? Maybe? He’s not sure if there’s anything particular about how Togruta babies age. She’s too young for words, clearly.

“I’m fine,” Anakin assures her, even as his heart sinks. She’s Ahsoka, clearly, he knows her in the Force and it can’t be anyone else, but her memories...

She recognizes him, but that’s not saying much.

He manages to get over to the chair next to the crib, but doesn’t trust himself to take her out right now. The snow and the mess of a fight before that haven’t been kind to him. Instead, he just sticks his hand through the bars and lets her grab at his fingers.

He can’t help but smile, really. She’s adorable, and she’s so damn happy to see him.

“Skyguy!”

“Oh, so you are talking,” Anakin says, part of him relaxing just a tad. “I was worried.”

“Mine,” she stresses, patting at his wrist.

“Yeah, your Skyguy,” he says. So she remembers... some things, at least. “And you’re my Snips.”

She squeals and yanks on his hand, just enough that the Force-suppressing cuff clanks against the bars of the crib. “Sky, Sky, Sky!”

Oh, she’s precious.

“You having fun?” he asks, filling the air with words faster than his head can fill with doubts. “Has everyone been nice?”

“Mmmmm,” she grumbles, falling to her butt with a huff. “Doc!”

“Oh, a doctor?” he asks, wondering at his own tone. He never expected to be one for baby-talk. “Was the doctor mean?”

“Cold!” she tells him. “Cold here!”

She taps at her chest, right where someone might check her heartbeat or breathing; the metal would be cold, and also necessary. He doesn’t fault anyone for it. Considering how poorly Anakin had fared, he’s just happy they’re all alive and mostly fine.

He doesn’t know what year it is. He knows he’s not in the year he should be. He’s vaguely aware of the name Jaster--one of the Mandos had said it while bringing him in--but he doesn’t know when Mereel’s reign ended and Fett’s began. He does know both are supposed to be dead.

Has Anakin been born yet? Has Ahsoka? Hell, has Obi-Wan?

Can he give out any real names?

A series of small, upset noises start coming up from the other, smaller crib.

He stands, but Ahsoka clings to his hand and refuses to let go. He can’t pry her off, not without his other arm, but he pulls away with quiet reassurances that he just has to check on... on...

Her brother, he says, aware that there’s more than a slight chance someone has the room bugged. He’s a Jedi in Mando custody. They aren’t stupid, and neither is he.

Obi-Wan’s the most likely to have already been born. Having the same name and face will draw attention, will cause questions, but... he can’t just rename his master like a recently-adopted pet. That’s just... wrong.

Anakin’s less shaky than when he first woke up, but he still has no way of safely picking up the kids. He reaches into the small crib, something twisting behind his sternum, and tickles under Obi-Wan’s chin.

The baby--the infant--looks up at him with wide eyes, too blue for the Obi-Wan he knows, but full of wonder and--

Love, the Force whispers through the cracks in the effects of the cuff.

“Love you too,” Anakin whispers, though he wonders if Obi-Wan would really feel like this as an adult again. Babies love easily, he thinks, and he’s the only adult that Obi-Wan knows right now. Maybe it’s just chemicals.

He stands there for longer than is probably a good idea, with the state of his body, but he can’t help it. Obi-Wan keeps grabbing at his finger and kicking with tiny legs, and sticking a tiny, tiny fist in his mouth as he tries watches Anakin.

It’s all Anakin can do to mutter a stream of meaningless nonsense as he struggles not to cry. He’s always had too many emotions, and right now he’s the only person these two can rely on. He’s the adult.

The door whooshes open.

“The medic said you were awake.”

He knows that voice. He closes his eyes and doesn’t turn, because there are a million feelings in his chest and he’s not sure which one is going to come out first.

“Sky?” Ahsoka questions, likely feeling his worry. “Issokay! Good!”

No, she wouldn’t have the mind to recognize why this familiar face she knows as friend is quite the opposite.

Anakin turns away from the crib, and smiles. “Mando.”

“Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker,” the teenager in the door says. He’s not wearing his bucket, but the rest of his armor is in place. Anakin would peg him as younger than Ahsoka was, before. Not by much, but... fourteen, maybe fifteen. The face is painfully familiar, and stays utterly neutral as he answers the question Anakin didn’t ask. “We found your Ident card after you passed out.”

Cool, so, Anakin definitely can’t change his name.

“Are they yours?” the teenager that will one day create an army says.

“They have no one else,” Anakin tells him. It’s true enough. Still, he gets the feeling that’s not what Fett’s asking. “They’re family.”

Jango squints at him. “I was told Jedi can’t have families.”

Anakin’s mind flashes to Padme and the fantasies he’d long harbored of children born free, and tears himself away. He can’t think about that right now. He can’t think of who he’s--

“Jetii!”

Anakin’s head snaps up, and he realizes he’s shaking. Fett’s not neutral anymore, just... concerned.

“I’m fine,” Anakin spits out, and leans on the crib behind him. He can hear the little ones whimpering. He has to pull his thoughts in and bundle them up into something that won’t hurt the incredibly Force-Sensitive babies behind him. “I’m--I’m all they have. They’re all I have. Are the exact words important?”

Fett doesn’t grimace, exactly, but his expression isn’t pleasant. “I guess.”

Anakin waits to see if there’s anything else coming, but no. Just an awkward silence. He holds onto his frustration, but it still gets the better of him.

“What are my chances of getting my arm back?” he asks.

“Hm?”

Anakin waves what’s left of that arm, the tied-off sleeve flapping about. “My arm. If you don’t want to give me mine back, can I at least have some kind of placeholder? I can’t pick up the babies without worrying that I’m going to drop them.”

“I can ask the medics,” Fett says. He stares at Anakin for a little more, and then asks, “Aren’t you going to ask about our plans for you, or...?”

“If you wanted to kill me, you already would have,” Anakin mutters. “Right now, these two are my only priority. I’m more likely to keep them safe and alive here than I am if I try to break out. I can be patient. I would also assume they wouldn’t have been left in a room with me, alone, if any of us were in danger of medical complications.”

Fett flushes and turns. “I’ll tell buir you’re up and active. There’s a nurse droid in the hall, I can have it handle feedings until you get an arm.”

“Thanks,” Anakin drawls, aware that he’s a little bitchy right now, but not in any mood to temper himself.

He settles himself on the floor next to Ahsoka’s crib, lets her play with his hair while the nurse droid feeds Obi-Wan, and then feeds Ahsoka herself. Anakin thinks he could probably pull the droid apart for an escape attempt if it came down to it. He hopes it won’t be necessary. He’s barely existing in the moment as it is. The droid asks Anakin if he needs anything, and he... shrugs.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Perhaps some non-perishables,” the nurse droids suggests. “Ration bars, for if you are hungry before one of the Mando’ade returns.”

Anakin shrugs again. “Alright.”

He ignores the droid after that. He’s only mostly cut off from the Force by the single cuff. He can’t blanket his Master and Padawan in his own Force presence, try to make them feel safe and calm with the fact that he’s here and ready to protect them, but he can monitor them. He can meditate, even if it’s not the way he prefers to do it. He doesn’t have the strength for moving meditation right now, but a regular meditation... he can do that.

He needs to do that, because no other stress relief option is available to him right now.

Anakin lets himself feel the babies fall asleep, the two of them radiating contentment and warmth. He lets himself trust that, for the moment, he doesn’t need to worry. He lets himself sink into an absence of thought, and then the Force guides him deeper still.

“Anakin!”

His eyes fly open.

This is not the real world.

This is not the room-cell in the Haat Mando’ade base he’s managed to stumble across.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says again, a smile hidden in a beard and worn laugh lines about his eyes. The right age, the right size, reaching for him and--

There’s only a moment’s hesitation for Anakin to process, and then he sprints forward and yanks his Master into a hug.

“You’re good,” Obi-Wan mutters to him, rubbing his back as they both sink to their knees. There’s a click of bootheels against the empty white not-space that they’re in, and Ahsoka buries herself into their sides. Anakin pulls her in a little closer too.

They stay that for longer than is maybe necessary, but Anakin’s stress levels are sky high right now, and he needs this. A hug, even one that’s technically only taking place in his head, is important.

“Sorry, Skyguy,” Ahsoka whispers. “Thinking in the real world is... really hard right now.”

He pulls away from the desperate hug he’d started them off with, rearranges things so he’s leaning against Obi-Wan, lets Ahsoka lie down with her head in his lap, on her back and legs stretched out across the white nothingness.

“I don’t know what happened,” Anakin says. “I mean, Sith stuff, probably, but... we’re in the wrong year.”

“I’d wondered,” Obi-Wan admits. “I thought it odd that I couldn’t feel the clones, but I only have so much energy to think right now...”

“Please tell me there’s a way to fix it,” Anakin begs. “I can’t be the adult, Obi-Wan. I haven’t even been born yet, that’s how far back we are. I don’t know what to do, and I can’t just bang around making bad decisions without you there to pull me back and--”

“Breathe,” Obi-Wan tells him.

“We’re in the Force,” Anakin says, just a little hysterically. “We don’t need to breathe!”

“Actually, I think we’re in your head,” Ahsoka says. She’s pointing and stretching her feet like a dancer, but looks up to grin at Anakin like the little shit she is. “You’re the only one whose brain is big enough right now.”

“Hey,” Anakin complains, putting his entire palm over her face as revenge. She giggles and swats him away. “That any way to talk to the guy who taught you how to kill five guys in one move?”

She sticks her tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes and runs a hand over her montrals, smiling when she wriggles and makes a little chirruping noise.

“She’s not wrong,” Obi-Wan says. “Though the phrasing was unfortunate, it does stand to reason that as the only person without the brain of a toddler, you’re hosting. Our minds can’t handle the strain of our own selves, let alone sharing space.”

“Infant.”

“Hm?”

“Ahsoka’s a toddler. You’re an infant. Maybe six months.” Anakin grins, just this side of brittle. He doesn’t want to joke about a problem he can’t fix, but what else is there? “You’re the literal baby of the lineage now.”

Obi-Wan sighs over the riot of Ahsoka’s laugh. “Of course I am.”

“It’s okay, Master,” Ahsoka assures him. “Skyguy’s gonna take care of us until we can fight again.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, grimacing slightly. “I am sorry for you being put in such a position, Anakin. It’s certainly not an easy one.”

Anakin wishes he could say that his immediate reaction isn’t a sense of hurt, a you don’t trust me, a you don’t think I can do this, a you’re disappointed someone else wasn’t here to handle things instead.

He wishes he could make that claim and have anyone believe him, but they are in a shared meditation, and in this moment there are very, very few secrets. He does not make the effort to hide his reaction in time, and Obi-Wan catches it.

Anakin turns away as Obi-Wan’s face fills with surprise and horror. “Anakin--”

“Can we just pretend you didn’t feel that?” Anakin asks, and flinches when Ahsoka pops up from where she lies and scurries around to hug him like a vise. “Can we just pretend I’m not--”

“Dear one, there are very few people I would trust as much as you in this,” Obi-Wan says. “Those who match up are largely the people who helped me raise me when I was actually this age.”

“Being completely reliant on your padawan isn’t--”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, cutting him off there. “I can trust you to care for me in ways that don’t just come down to making me a useful general again. I already trust you to risk your life and safety and freedom to see us survive, given what little I remember of that storm.”

“You handed yourself over to Mandalorians you knew nothing about so we’d be safe,” Ahsoka mutters into the fabric somewhere over his ribs. “That could have gone really badly, and you still did it because you were worried about us.”

“We trust you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling Anakin to his chest and resting his chin on Anakin’s head. “We know you.”

“You don’t even know what happened in the storm,” Anakin mutters. “You were asleep.”

“I caught enough listening to the doctors,” Obi-Wan says. He runs a hand over Anakin’s head and through his hair. “You did well, Anakin.”

Anakin wonders why they don’t do this in real life. Obi-Wan doesn’t usually hug him, let alone cuddle. Maybe it’s because they’re all stuck in too much truth in this shared meditation, and the other two are currently stuck in child bodies that crave physical affection in ways they don’t realize they’re expressing in here as well. Maybe it’s the stress.

“What even can you hear?” Anakin mutters, still in Obi-Wan’s arms. Ahsoka giggles at him, nuzzling into his side in a way he doesn’t think she’d ever let herself, normally.

“We can’t really think in the real world right now,” she muses. “Only when we’re sleeping, and probably when we’re meditating once we’re bigger. If I try to think too hard, my head hurts worse than that time Ventress got me in the head with the back of her saber.”

“Everything takes up more space than it should,” Obi-Wan adds. “It’s... all of my senses are bigger and brighter and take up more of my attention, but they aren’t very clear, really. They’re just more. I can’t focus on anything, either, except... well, the feedings.”

Ahsoka makes an annoyed noise. “The whole diapers and bottles thing is really embarrassing, by the way. Only here, though, I barely notice when I’m awake because...”

“Because you’re a toddler,” Anakin says drily.

She huffs. “How would you feel if you were stuck like that?”

That’s fair.

“I don’t remember much,” Obi-Wan says carefully. “But part of me recognizes familiar things, even if I can’t quite make the connection.”

“Was that Fett, earlier?” Ahsoka asks. “Because I thought I saw a friend, and I pretty much forgot the face as soon as they left, but--”

“It’s Fett,” Anakin confirms. “But I guess that’s good to know? You saw his face and your baby brain just assumed it was one of the clones?”

“Pretty much.”

“And we know we trust you,” Obi-Wan adds, and tightens the hug when Anakin stiffens. “Anakin, I can barely understand the world around me at all right now. It’s like being on the painkillers that don’t knock you out but leave you saying only the most ridiculous things that come to mind. You have a general understanding of what’s going on, but all your emotions are too much and the room spins, you can’t stay on one track mentally, you can’t remember what you’ve done and what you haven’t--”

“You can’t control your bladder,” Ahsoka mutters, just a touch spitefully.

Obi-Wan grimaces and nods. “An unfortunate commonality in the experiences, yes. What I was aiming to address, however, is the fact that I only remember a very few things with any reliability. Most of my adult mind, so to speak, appears to be stored in a stasis form in the Force itself, because the infant mind can only handle the barest edges of who I am. But what that infant mind knows, and what I remember thinking once I have some sense of my full self in sleep, is that there is no one I react to as positively as you, Anakin.”

“What he’s trying to say,” Ahsoka interrupts, “but can’t because he’s trying to be a serene Jedi Councilor who definitely doesn’t break the code, nosiree, is that we don’t remember much about ourselves when we’re awake, but we remember you, and we know that we love you, Skyguy.”

Anakin stares at her, and then twists around to look at Obi-Wan instead.

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka croons. “Stop being emotionally constipated. We’re literal babies right not, which sucks, but we’re like 90% emotion. Tell Skyguy.”

“Yes, er, Ahsoka was not incorrect,” Obi-Wan says, stroking his beard and refusing to meet Anakin’s eyes. “I, that is to say, we...”

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka says, a touch sharper than she might have dared if not for the reversal of their ages.

“I do love you, Anakin, and it’s one of the only things my child mind knows consistently.”

The Force does, in fact, sing with the truth of this. It circles them like a delighted tornado of emotional reality, pulsing like a coat of positivity.

Anakin buries his face in Obi-Wan’s shoulder and hugs him as tightly as possible.

“Oh! Oh dear, I--Anakin, really, this isn’t news.”

“Master Kenobi, you’re allergic to actually talking about your emotions. Let him hug you.”

“Anakin, I’ve raised you since you were nine, it would be nearly impossible for me to not care, why are you--”

“Master Kenobi, stop questioning him!” Ahsoka whines. “It’s affirmation time.”

“Ahsoka, have you been spending time with the mind healers again?”

“I was a teenager in a warzone and also Barriss bullied me into it for my own good.” Ahsoka shrugs. “I learned some stuff. You two should have gone, too. You were more karked up than I was.”

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan scolds.

“What are you going to do, spit up on me? You can’t exactly make me run laps, Master.”

“Both of you shut up,” Anakin mumbles, and tries to push as much of his own affection as possible into a little ball of feelings that he can just drop on the two of them while he’s still in his own brain and not somewhere he can’t touch the Force. “Just--just shut.”

Apparently, Anakin’s feelings are a lot, because Ahsoka bursts into tears and Obi-Wan zones out so hard Anakin starts worrying about him.

They’re in a mindscape, a thing that he didn’t really think happened, but does. He shouldn’t have to worry about his--

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling him in tighter. “Why did you...”

“Skyguy, I don’t think you planned on putting in the part where you worry about nobody loving you back as much as you loved them,” Ahsoka says, raw and uneven. “Because, uh, we got that? Skyguy, that’s really wrong!”

Oh shit.

“No, you were... you were not supposed to get that,” he says, just a little strangled. “I am so sorry, that wasn’t--”

“Be our dad.”

Anakin stares down at his Padawan. She stares determinedly back.

“What?”

“Fett asked if we were yours, and you edged around the question by saying we were family, but he was asking if you were our dad. I’m guessing you didn’t want to claim that when we couldn’t agree to it, so I’m telling you now: do it. Adopt us the Mandalorian way or whatever. You were already my older brother, basically, this is just a step sideways in how we talk about it.”

He stares at her a bit more. He doesn’t have words, and his emotions are such a cyclone of conflicting thoughts that he’s surprised the Force hasn’t tossed him out.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be born, but if I am, then I need a name so I don’t have the same one as future me,” she says. She takes his hands, holds them tight and leans in close. “You’re going to be raising us anyway. The Force already made it clear there’s no fixing this, we tried asking while you were unconscious, it wants us to grow up the long way. You’re going to be our dad. Just make it official. Make me a Skywalker.”

Anakin sits up straight, looks her up and down, the determination and affection and--

He turns to look at Obi-Wan. “Master?”

“...yes, Anakin?”

“I know she said ‘we’ and ‘us,’ but I’m not letting anyone speak for anyone else. Not for something this important.”

Obi-Wan blinks at him, and then rearranges himself to something a tad more formal. He takes one of Anakin’s hands in his own. “Anakin, we’ve been family since you were nine. This is just redefining the terms. We can adjust as we go forward, but for all intents and purposes, the majority of the time, I will be that youngling in the cot. For all intents and purposes, I will be your child, and... and I would be honored for you to make that official.”

“Even if it breaks the Code?” Anakin presses.

“All is as the Force wills it,” Obi-Wan says, almost but not quite overriding Ahsoka’s, “This doesn’t break the Code.”

They both turn to look at her. She shrugs. “What? You guys are always arguing about it and Skyguy was married. I went and did some digging about what is and isn’t allowed. This adoption would be skirting the edges of some rules, since we should be taken to the creche to be raised in a communal manner, and official adoptions are discouraged for reasons relating to later padawan stuff, but since the Force is also insisting we stay with the Mandalorians, I think it qualifies as an exception and will be treated as such, retroactively, by the Council. You also won’t be able to take either of us as Padawan once that time comes. It does not, however, violate the Code in and of itself.”

“What the hell, Snips?”

“I’m impressed, young one,” Obi-Wan says, with a smile Anakin can feel. “I could have expected to see you in court in a few years, with an argument like that.”

“You knew I was married?” Anakin squeaks.

“Rex isn’t a very good liar,” she says. She then droops. “Or, he wasn’t. Wouldn’t be. He tried, at least, but I caught on. That was against the Code, though. Just so you know.”

Anakin runs a hand over his face, tries very hard not to think about what and whom he’s left behind. He can save that breakdown for later.

He chances a look at Obi-Wan.

He gets a raised eyebrow in response.

“You’re not mad?”

“I knew you and the Senator were close, considering all the kissing you did in the Arena,” Obi-Wan says drily. Anakin isn’t stupid enough to ask how he knows it’s Padme. “I didn’t know you were married, and am a little disappointed you didn’t at least tell me, or consult me before you did it, considering you were still a padawan... but no, I’m not mad. Even if I were--and I am not--we’ve time-traveled, so I’m fairly certain that qualifies as annulment. It’s a non-issue.”

Anakin pushes down the tidal wave of grief for people who haven’t been born yet, and just breathes instead. This is important. This is too important for him to just kriff it up.

“Names,” he says.

“I still want part of it to be ‘Soka,’ if you don’t think it’s too risky.”

Obi-Wan shrugs with a smile. “Almost every time I’ve posed as a Mandalorian, since my first mission with Satine, I’ve gone by Ben. It would be fitting that, now that we’re here and apparently staying, I take the name for real.”

Anakin nods. He closes his eyes, and breathes deep, and thinks that they may be among Mandalorians on a world of snow, but he has the desert in his bones and will never forget it.

“Ahsoka Tano, sister of my heart,” he says, hoping he’s getting the words right, and takes her hands in his. It’ll have more meaning here and now, where they’re both of full mind. He holds her gaze. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my daughter, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Sokanth Skywalker, she who slips through every hunter’s trap, and you are my child.”

She smiles brightly at him, and looks like she might cry. He presses his lips to her forehead. He turns to his Master. He hesitates, because it’s one thing to redefine his little sister, but...

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, father of my heart,” he says, his voice catching where it shouldn’t. He can do this. It’s weird but he can do this. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my son, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Ylliben Skywalker, he who hunts the monsters of the darkest nights, and you are my child.”

The man before him almost laughs, well aware of how absurd it is for Anakin to be the one adopting him, but keeps it limited to just a twinkle in his eye and a quirk to his lips. Anakin presses his lips to his teacher’s forehead.

He pulls both of them in close. Padawan and Master. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan.

Daughter and son. Soka and Ben. His.

“I’m still gonna call you Skyguy,” Soka says wetly. “But Mas--um, Ben. Ben can call you buir, all the Mandos are gonna love it.”

“Fine by me,” Anakin says. “I’m going to be telling you Tatooine bedtime stories, by the way. You’ll remember creche stories as you grow, but these’ll be new.”

“I do believe that would be appropriate,” Ben says, laughing just a touch. “I also think we should perhaps disband this, unless you have something else to address. You’re going to be dealing with two very cranky younglings soon.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna have headaches after this,” Soka laughs, rubbing her face against his shoulder. “But it’s okay, we got what we ne--”

“No, shut up, what you do mean, headaches? You said that was only when you were awake!”

“I mean, we’d be sobbing after like three minutes if we were awake,” Soka says cheerfully. “This way, it’s been like... an hour or whatever between all the talking and the hugging and the crying and the feelings, and we’re just gonna be grumpy.”

“Oh my--wake up!” Anakin growls at both of them. “I’m responsible for you now, wake up.”

He ignores Soka’s laughter and drags himself back to wakefulness. Behind him, he feels slight confusion and pain mixed with love and delight. Ben starts fussing.

Anakin drags a hand over his face and groans. He gets to his feet, nods to the nurse droid, and steps over to the cribs.

“Can we put them in the same one until I get my arm back?” he asks. The droid obliges, moving Ben to Soka’s crib. She immediately crawls over to him and envelops him in a hug. She pouts up at Anakin, eyes going watery, and he drops into the chair next to her and offers his hand through the bars. She grabs it.

“You’re going to be trouble for a long, long time, huh?”

She sticks her tongue out at him, and he smiles at her. Yes, trouble in spades, his Snips.

He starts telling her one of the fables of Tatooine, the really sanitized ones meant for children her age, before they got to the slave stories and haunt-tales. She falls asleep for real, no Force Shenanigans, shortly after. Ben is dead to the world by that point, making small snuffling noises whenever the blanket tickles his nose.

Anakin knows he’s got the galaxy’s dopiest smile on his face. It’s fine.

It’s a few more hours before someone stops by. He’s used the fresher by that point, helped the nurse droid coax Ben through a feeding, and helped Soka play with the little stuffed eopie they’ve given her.

“They got names, aruetti?”

He looks up and over. “Yes.”

The middle-aged man ambles over, arms crossed. “Jango said you claimed to be all they had left.”

He is. “They’re family. I’ve had a few hours to think it over, now that I’m not getting shot at or dying in the snow. To any system that allows it, I’ll be their father.”

“No chance of returning them to their people?”

Anakin shakes his head. “Soka has none who would recognize her, and I already--I already babysat her regularly, and she thought of me as a brother. It’s an easy next step.”

“And the human?”

“I... the master-padawan relationship is often one that is compared to that of parent and child,” Anakin says carefully. “My own master was like a father to me, and Ben is... Ben is all I have left of him.”

There. Not quite the truth, but... technically not lying.

Ben makes a small noise in his sleep, fussing, and Anakin reaches through the bars to brush his thumb across the infant’s chubby cheek. He smiles helplessly as Ben whines and curls in tighter on himself, pressing a tiny fist to his mouth.

“You’re good,” Anakin whispers. “We’re fine, Ylliben.”

“I don’t know what you’re hiding,” the Mando says. “But I do believe you’re doing what you can for those kids.”

“That’s all that matters,” Anakin agrees, finally looking away from his... his son.

Mine, the greedy krayt in his chest whispers.

“When are you planning on going back to Coruscanta?”

“I’m not,” Anakin says, standing and looking the man head-on. Anakin’s taller than him. That’s usually useful. “I don’t know why, but the Force wants me to stay here, or at least with the Mandalorians.”

“You want me to believe that you support my cause?”

“I don’t know your cause,” Anakin admits. “But I don’t like Death Watch, and I know you don’t either. Nobody on Coruscant is going to know to miss me, and the Force is warning me away from trying to go back. Whatever it is that needs doing, I’m supposed to be doing it here.”

The man steps forward. “Anyone tell you who I am?”

“No.”

“I’m Jaster Mereel.”

Good for you, Anakin thinks, and doesn’t say. “I’m pretty sure you already know my name.”

“I do,” Mereel says. “Wanna tell me how a Knight with a seemingly valid ident card claims nobody will know to miss him?”

“No.”

Mereel doesn’t even blink. “Try that again.”

“It means exactly what I said,” Anakin says. “The ident card is real. My training and rank are earned and deserved and bestowed by protocol. All of it was done at the Temple in Coruscant, but if you phone up the Temple with my name and face, nobody will know who I am.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why,” Mereel grouses. “What’s stopping me from calling them up anyway and asking them to come fetch your hypothermic ass?”

“...the fact that I already offered to help you?” Anakin manages. “I... I did say that part, right? That I’d help?”

“What’s stopping you from wanting to go back? And don’t give me any of that ‘will of the force’ banthashit.”

“I broke the Code,” Anakain says. The words sit heavy in his mouth, but one of his violations is lesser than the other, and-- “I married, and we’re not supposed to do that. She’s... not around anymore, but it still stands that I did it.”

The Tuskens weigh on his mind, suddenly and intensely. He hasn’t thought about them in ages, has always pushed those memories down, down, down, but--

“And they won’t take you back?”

“They might,” Anakin admits. They probably would, with his full title and everything, especially if he told them about the future. “But they wouldn’t let me keep the kids.”

Understanding flickers. “Not allowed kids?”

“It’s not... technically against the code,” he hedges. “But they’d find out about my marriage while investigating my past--” maybe, he’s not sure what kind of investigation they’d justify for a complete stranger of a knight, especially to confirm the future, but if they had a psychometric so much as touch his saber or arm, once he gets those back, there’d be a risk, “--and after already breaking the code by marrying, they’d be far less willing to bend the rules about the babies.”

He doesn’t realize how likely the risk is until after he says it, because he’s just been focusing on staying alive and following the Force, but.. they’d want the kids in the creche. He’s broken the code enough that any investigation they set to prove he’s legitimately a Jedi Knight that isn’t recorded and isn’t in the system is going to uncover something through the Force. They might not let him keep his family.

“What are their names?”

“I already--”

“Jango kept his last name,” Mereel cuts him off. “Did yours?”

Anakin looks the man in the eye, and then attempts to cross his arms in response, to mirror the pose and hold his ground. Unfortunately, he’s forgotten that he’s only got the one arm, which is really kriffing irritating.

“I gave them my name,” he says. “They’ll know where they came from, but they are mine.”

Yeah, no shit they’ll know where they came from.

Mereel’s face twitches, but the man is unreadable in the Force. Still, there’s something in the air... “So, those names?”

“Sokanth and Ylliben Skywalker,” Anakin tells him. He spells it out when the droid asks. He assumes it’s just for the medical data their droids are collecting.

“How well can you fight without your laser sword?”

“You mean unarmed?” Anakin asks, and then smiles brightly and tauntingly and waves his empty sleeve around. Mereel does not appreciate the humor. “Pretty well, but I do better when I have the Force, and am not still recovering from hypothermia. And I’m a fair shot with a blaster, but no specialist.”

Mereel eyes him for a moment, and then nods. “One of my snipers is Force-Sensitive. Never was enough to get more than some basic training in mental shields and the control to not hurt herself, but when we mentioned bringing in a Jetii, someone asked her what she thought. Came by the room while you were unconscious and said she thought you felt sad, angry, and desperate... but that she had a good feeling about where you’d be going.”

“Sad, angry, and desperate?” Anakin repeats, a little offended.

“You act like a veteran, kid,” Mereel says. He shrugs. “Damn near everyone that goes through some kind of war has all that going on. S’normal. You got Kamira’s approval, though, and that means a damn sight more. Keep your secrets for now. We’ll get there eventually.”

No we won’t, Anakin thinks. Out loud, he asks, “So, how much of what kind of work would I have to do to borrow a ship to Tatooine and earn enough to free a slave girl?”

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Aim For The Heart | Chapter 1: At First Sight

Pairing: hitman!jk x female reader

Genre: E2L, romance, angst, drama

WC: 4.5k

Warnings for this chapter: alcohol consumption, language, stalking kind of? I think that's all lol. Pls let me know if there is anything else I should put.

tag list; @teresaisla @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @yukiehyukie

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn't sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn't his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger. 

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A bright smile graces your features as you tuck the little star-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches into a tiny container, just barely getting two of them to fit as you squish them down a tad bit in order to get the lid clipped on.

Then you grab a little tangerine and a cheese stick to drop into your lunch bag along with the sandwiches, counting the number of items aloud to yourself as they make themselves at home and then you zip it all up.

"Th-There we go!" You lift your lunch for the day in triumph.

Your phone startles you when it starts to ring, then you grapple in your purse to find it. You pull it out and answer right before the last ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, girl! Are you ready to go? I'm downstairs." The voice of your best friend comes through the phone and you look at the clock on your microwave. You stare at the little black screen, confused as to why the time isn't showing up before remembering that you were never able to figure out how to display the clock when you bought the microwave three years ago. So, you hold your phone out to look at the time.

6:32

"Oh geez! I didn't r-realize the time. I'll be d-down in a minute, k?" You say, earning a lighthearted laugh from the girl on the other end.

"Take your time, hun. I'm not in any rush."

You thank her quickly and hang up, then you run to your room to grab your favorite pink cardigan and throw it on over your white shirt. As you're hurrying out and grabbing your lunch, you stumble and knock your knee into an open lower cabinet that you had forgotten to close the previous night after pulling a pan from it to make dinner.

"Ouch!" You hiss in pain and rub the sore spot, although it does nothing to ease the ache. Then you grab your purse and run outside, almost forgetting to lock the door. But you remember just in time and clumsily lock it before rushing down the stairs leading to the parking lot of your apartment complex.

Your best friend, Mina, is laughing. You can see her through the windshield as she waves to you. Lifting a hand to wave back, you don't realize in time that your arms are full. You drop your lunchbox and have to crouch to get it again, only taking up even more of your time.

But Mina finds it hilarious and tells you so as soon as you slide into the car and fumble with your seatbelt to get it buckled.

"Honestly, ___. I can't believe you're still single. If I wasn't straight as a board, I'd be head over heels for you and all your shenanigans." She states in a matter-of-fact tone as she pulls out of the parking spot.

A blush creeps up your neck and you try to laugh it off, "D-Don't be silly." You whisper, turning your gaze outside to look at the fluffy white clouds decorating the sky beautifully. You smile and lean your forehead against the glass as you imagine lying on a soft cloud, just drifting in the air.

"If you c-could go anywhere at all, where would y-you go?" You ask Mina suddenly, turning to her. Her eyes are focused on the road but she bites her lip in thought at your question. "Mm, probably Italy. What about you?" She's used to your sudden questions and ramblings, so she smiles when you start to go off.

"I'd wanna go up in the c-clouds. I wanna sit on one and maybe even see a r-rainbow up close! I wonder if I could slide down the rainbow..." Your brows furrow in deep thought. "Or would I f-fall?" You turn to her again and she glances over to see your signature puppy dog eyes that you use when you are either confused, upset, or want something.

Mina turns back to the road, a tiny ache in her heart that she hides with a bright smile, "Girl, you would ride that rainbow straight down into a pot of gold!"

"Really?" Your eyes widen and you feel your heart lift at the image.

She nods and you giggle happily, "You can come w-with me, Mina." You say confidently, your gaze turning back to the sky. "We can sleep in the clouds and slide down rainbows for the rest of f-forever."

"Sounds like a deal."

By the time Mina pulls up to the school, you've discussed everything you'd do up in the clouds and what you'd eat when you're hungry (stardust, you've decided, is the best meal anyone could eat.)

You unbuckle and gather your things. Then you remember something and turn back to Mina, "Oh yeah. W-When are you leaving on your business trip?" You ask a tinge of sadness in your voice.

"This weekend," Mina says solemnly. "I'm sorry I won't be able to drive you for a while. I'll be gone for a month this time."

That makes your heart sting but you manage a small smile, "D-Don't worry about me. I can walk! I'm gonna m-miss you though."

"I'll miss you too, buttercup. We'll hang out this Friday night before I leave the next day. How about that?" Mina asks kindly.

You nod enthusiastically and she smiles, "Ok, get your butt in there before you're late! The bell rings in half an hour and you can't be late on a Monday." She urges you and you nod, hopping out of the car and thanking her again for the ride, reassuring her that you'll walk home from work today.

You blow her a kiss and she laughs as you turn and hurry into the school.

You're all set up only a few minutes before the kids are supposed to arrive, so you go onto Pinterest and look through your fairytale boards, feeling a little spark of joy in your chest.

A couple of minutes later, the kids start streaming through the door, greeting you with the same amount of enthusiasm as you greet them. Your kiddos love you so much that all the other teachers are jealous and they let you know it every day. Of course, you have the sweetest kindergarteners and they're always the best for you.

"Hello, Teacher! Good morning Miss ___! Teacher, look at my new haircut!"

"Hi, Jina! Hello M-Minhhyuk! Kun, your new haircut l-looks so good!" All the kids have bright smiles on their faces by the time they've settled in their seats.

You always start the day off by getting everyone to stand and do a few stretches, then you sing the nursery rhymes you learned yesterday and start learning a new one. You honestly have as much fun as the kids during the school day.

"Ok, l-little ducklings, have a seat!" You get their attention and they immediately oblige. Next, is the alphabet that you guys have been working on since the beginning of the year. Every little one sings it perfectly all the way through and you give them a round of applause and they each get a little punch in their reward cards.

The rest of the day goes by smoothly, with only one temper tantrum thrown and that was resolved quickly.

It's nearing the end of the school day and the kids are all playing during their free time. You're sitting with Ae-Cha, a small and fairly quiet girl, playing with colorful blocks; the both of you competing to see who can build the highest tower. You've learned that she responds well to playing games when there isn't too much talking involved.

You're constantly glancing around the room to make sure everyone is safe and playing nicely and you're always pleased. They've all improved so much since the beginning of school back in September. It's June now and they've all learned their alphabet and how to play nicely with their new friends, along with so many other things. They've really made you so proud this year. You can even hear them reciting the alphabet and nursery rhymes to each other as they play.

Your heart warms at the sound of tiny voices filling the room as they sing. Then you glance at the clock and realize the bell will be ringing in a few minutes. So, you declare Ae-Cha the winner with her foot-high tower of blocks and she beams proudly. Then, you get up and clap three times, "One, two, th-three! Eyes on me!" You singsong, then smile when the kids immediately respond by clapping twice and shouting "One, two! Eyes on you!"

"G-Great attention today, everyone! Alright, the bell will ring soon. Who can tell me w-what that means? What are we doing n-now?" A few little hands go up and you point to the little boy that raised his first, "Yes, Joon Woo?"

"We...Uhm...time to clean up toys...Uhm..." You smile to encourage him and he finishes cutely, "Time uh, to clean up our toys and pack bags."

"Yes! Thank you, Joon Woo. It is t-time for us to clean up and make sure our bags are packed up and ready for h-home!"

The kids start to pick up their toys as you put on the cleaning song that you play every day for them. You all sing along until the room is all tidied and their bags are packed with their homework papers.

You always give them little mazes to do for homework to get their little brains to learn to concentrate, along with instructions on what to draw to show the class the next day. Today, their homework is an extremely easy maze, a coloring page with the alphabet and instructions to draw themselves doing their favorite activity. The kids always love drawing pictures and sharing them with the class and it's a good ice breaker for the shy ones at the beginning of the day.

You always have less and easier homework for the kids on Mondays and Fridays, it just seems fair to you that way. You also feel like it's good for kids to express themselves and be able to share what they like and dislike. You've found drawing helps with communication and creativity for the kids in your class.

The sound of the bell ringing makes a few of you jump, then you hurry to the door. "Alright, ducklings! T-Time to line up!" A few of the kids make quacking sounds as they line up, giggling and talking to their friends.

You smile and open up the door, holding it as the kids walk out in a straight line, some of them still quacking like little ducks.

You lead the kids to the front of the school and make sure they get into the correct line for the bus if they take it. You wave goodbye to them as the kids that take the bus climb on and they run to a window to wave back to you.

The rest of the kids that are left are soon picked up by their parents or siblings. You wave to Ae-Cha, the last student to be picked up. She smiles shyly and waves back before hurrying after her big sister.

After that, you go back to your classroom and finish a few things before packing up to go home. As you're leaving your classroom, you run into one of the other teachers coming from his own room.

"Oh, h-hello Mr. B-Baek!" You bow, missing the ugly sneer on his face as you smile brightly at him. He pushes his glasses further up his nose as he scrutinizes you with his beady little eyes. "You don't belong here, Miss ___." He snaps.

You look at him in confusion, "I-I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"I've waited the entire school year to say this to you. But now that we are nearing the end, I think you should know that you have no business being a teacher at this school. You ought to make the right decision to discontinue your work here." Mr. Baek watches your face fall with a sick sense of satisfaction.

"B-But, why?" You ask, still not understanding.

"First of all, you're inexperienced. You just got out of college last year, am I right?"

You nod uncertainly.

"You're still a child. Why should a twenty-two-year-old girl come marching in here and take a spot that should have been given to someone with more experience? And especially someone like you." He glares at you before turning on his heel and walking away briskly.

Someone like me? What does he mean by that?

You watch after him, feeling a tiny pinch in your chest. You aren't sure what he means, but whatever he's talking about, it sounds like he believes you shouldn't have become a teacher at all. At this school or another. You'll have to ask Mina later because you really have no idea where his rant came from.

Is there something wrong with you becoming a teacher?

You shake your head and laugh it off, "He's probably just had a bad day." You tell yourself as you make your way out of the school.

As you walk home, you sing quietly along with the song in your headphones, a little skip to your step.

You never notice the dark figure across the street, his eyes trained on your every move.

One day earlier...

Jungkook groans as he tosses and turns in bed, searching for his phone to turn the alarm off. He finally finds it and hits dismiss, tossing the phone back down and rubbing his eyes with a tired yawn.

After another minute he sits up and looks out the window, frowning at the sun seeping in and pooling across his floor in a golden river. He stares at a small bird that lands on his windowsill until it flies away.

Jungkook yawns again and reaches up to rub his eyes for the second time. After a few minutes, he's finally able to drag himself out of bed and into the shower. He almost falls asleep again in there, but he manages to make it out after half an hour.

With a towel wrapped around his waist, he makes his way to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of soju that's sitting on his tiny dining table to take a small swig from, finishing off what he'd left last night after his third bottle right before he passed out in bed.

He sighs and grabs a bagel, searching for the cream cheese he swears he saw in his fridge last night. A small smile appears on his lips when he finds it. He snatches it and makes sloppy work of spreading it on his bagel before tossing the leftover trash onto his counter and plopping onto the couch, snarfing down the first half of his bagel in thirty seconds.

Jungkook sighs through his nose as he tiredly chews his breakfast, then he glances down and sees the file he'd left open on his coffee table last night. He swallows the bite he has in his mouth and leans forward to read over it.

Y/L/N Y/N...

Why is that name so familiar?

He shakes his head and flips the file closed, then he leans back on the couch, wanting to spend his Sunday relaxing before he has to get to work on this case. He isn't going to think about it again until tonight.

Jungkook settles down and lays his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

He won't think about it.

Jungkook lays there for a minute, then he opens his eyes and lifts his head, glaring at the closed file on the little table.

He grunts in annoyance and drops the other half of his bagel onto the table, grabbing the file angrily and sitting back again. He opens it and starts to reread everything he's read many times since Friday. There's just something that has felt off since he met with Mr. Ling, but he can't put his finger on what it is.

Jungkook squints at the name he's read a thousand times.

Y/L/N...Y/N...

"Ugh." He rolls his eyes, frustrated at not being able to remember where he's heard that name before. Then he looks at the occupation.

Teacher at Sunshine Kindergarten.

His brows furrow again, much like they have each time he's read this. He's never had a hit on a teacher before, let alone a Kindergarten teacher. That's such an odd target...

Most of his targets in the past have been sleazy business owners, rapists, leaders of gangs that have terrorized neighborhoods for years, even other hitmen. He's never had a problem with those jobs, but there's something about this one that's telling him to be careful.

Maybe it's because he knows nothing about his client, except for the large sum of money he must have due to the pay he's been promised. Other clients of his were more than happy to explain why they wanted him to do what he does. They never paid him until after the job was done, either.

That leads Jungkook to believe that this guy (or girl) is desperate for his services, convincing him to do it with payment before and after. Almost as if Jungkook would refuse after he found out who the target was...

Jungkook flips the page and scrutinizes the picture of the target.

She's very simple looking, Jungkook thinks. The girl in the picture is wearing a white flowy skirt with a blue blouse that covers her whole arms and white chunky tennis shoes. Her hair is in a low ponytail and it seems like she has headphones in as she walks down the street. There's a tiny smile on her face as if she's thinking about something that makes her happy.

Jungkook doesn't find her particularly beautiful, but she isn't ugly either. She's just very...

Simple...

Jungkook shakes his head, his eyes going over the photo and the girl's smile one more time. Maybe she's a double agent? Or a part of the mafia disguising herself as a school teacher?

He can't figure it out.

It doesn't matter much though, the job seems simple enough and the pay is more than he's ever gotten. After looking through everything once more, Jungkook closes the file and grabs his bagel, quickly eating it before getting up to get dressed for the day.

That night, Jungkook lays out his outfit for the next day.

It's all black, but not suspicious-looking. After all these years, he's been able to design the perfect outfits to avoid attention being drawn to him and simple enough so that no one would think much of him if he were to catch anyone's attention.

It might seem simple, but he prides himself on being able to get each part of his job perfectly designed for each case he gets.

Heaven knows it's taken him years to accomplish.

After he's gotten that all figured out, he walks over to his closet and pulls out a small safe. Setting it on the bed, he swiftly unlocks it and looks inside. He pulls out a few things, examining each of them before he sets them one by one onto his bed. Once he's got the items all laid out, he steps back to look it all over.

"I should wait to decide..." Jungkook mumbles to himself. After a minute of staring at everything, he nods and gathers it all up, carefully putting it back into the safe and locking it tightly. Then he brings it back to his closet and shoves it into the darkest corner where it lives.

That can wait.

He pulls his phone out and checks the time.

11:45

"Damn it," Jungkook mutters. He had wanted to get some sleep earlier tonight since he would have to be awake early tomorrow.

He changes into some shorts, then he yanks his shirt off and immediately climbs into bed, not even bothering to shower or brush his teeth. He really couldn't care less with how tired he is. And he hasn't even started yet.

His alarm blares at an ungodly hour as Jungkook groans loudly, resisting the temptation to chuck his phone across the room.

"I hate Mondays." He mutters angrily, setting his phone back on the nightstand far from gracefully.

He miserably drags himself out of bed and into the shower, going through his morning motions almost like a robot. His brain isn't fully awake and it's just on autopilot right now.

An hour later, he's just finishing his coffee, his eyes no longer squinting in exhaustion. Jungkook unceremoniously drops his coffee cup into the sink, promising himself he'll clean it up later, then he sighs as he grabs his black boots, walking to the couch to sit and pull them on. After he's done lacing them up, he grabs the file he's been avoiding like the plague since yesterday morning.

He mutters to himself, looking at the name on the page.  

"I know that name."

Then he smacks his forehead to get himself to focus again. He stands up and folds the page with the girl's information and then her picture and tucks them into the inside pocket of his black jacket.

Time to get to work.

Jungkook spots the girl almost instantly, the second she steps out of a black car. He glances at the driver, but can only see a person with shoulder length black hair waving. The girl from the picture has a bunch of things in her arms as she blows a kiss to the short-haired driver.

Jungkook has been here since six-thirty in the morning and just as he was beginning to think she called in sick for work, he's finally gotten a chance to see this girl in person. She looks exactly as he remembers from her picture...plain.

She's even wearing the same white skirt and chunky tennis shoes, although this time she has a different top. Her hair is in a high ponytail this time.

"Well, ___. Nice to meet you." Jungkook mutters, watching closely.

After a moment, the black car drives away as the girl scurries into the school, tripping on the last step before straightening herself out again, then disappearing from his sight.

Huh.

Jungkook stares at the door for another minute, then he makes his way to the stores nearby, knowing he's gonna have to wait until the girl leaves. School for the young kids typically gets out at around three-thirty. So, he'll have to be back here around then.

He's definitely going to need to find something to do to kill time.

Jungkook heaves a sigh of relief when he hears the school bell finally ring.

He hurries from the clothes store he was browsing and down the street a block until he's almost across the street from the school. He finds a good spot where he can sift through some newspapers at a little stand and still have an eye on the school.

After a minute, he sees a long line of tiny children coming out from the school. The girl is with them and smiling brightly. Jungkook thinks he can hear some of the kids quacking like ducks. He tries not to look puzzled as he goes back to talking to the person working the paper stand. Jungkook makes small talk with the old man, still keeping an eye on the girl across the street as she waves to each child that leaves.

If she's some mafia boss disguised as a kindergarten teacher, she's one hell of a good actress.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" The old man inquires curiously.

Jungkook laughs softly and shakes his head, "No. I've been so busy with my work I never got the chance to date."

The man nods knowingly. They chat a bit more and Jungkook finds himself trying to balance talking to the man and watching the girl.

"Well, did you want to buy a paper for the day?"

Jungkook turns his gaze back to the old man and nods, "Yes. Two, please. My neighbor would probably enjoy one as well."

The old man laughs and nods, taking the money Jungkook hands him and giving him two papers, "What a kind young man you are. Someday you'll find a lovely young lady, don't you worry, son. You will realize that work is important, but love is even more so."

Jungkook just laughs and thanks the man, then he opens the paper as he slowly starts walking, pretending to read.

He stops at a bench and sits down to wait. The girl went back into the school a few minutes ago, hopefully, she won't be in there long.

Luck seems to be with him today, because, after only about five minutes, Jungkook sees a familiar white skirt flowing as she skips down the steps of the school.

He folds his paper carefully, tucking it into his back pocket. The girl puts little earbuds in and immediately starts to mouth the words of whatever song she's listening to. Jungkook tugs his black baseball cap down a little more as he follows on the other side of the street.

The girl has a bag decorated with cupcakes and cookies that bounces up and down as she dances a little.

What is she, twelve?

Jungkook watches in confusion as the girl stops to pet a dog, giggling when the puppy licks her hand. She straightens up, then after another minute, she seems to get distracted by something else.

Jungkook looks carefully and notices she's picked up a flower that was laying on the ground, seemingly trampled on. She gently holds it in her hands as she continues on her way. It goes on like this for the next fifteen minutes, the girl waving to people and smiling almost the whole way.

By the time she is walking up the steps to her apartment, Jungkook is dying to just get back home. That must have been the longest most annoying walk he's ever taken while tracking someone. The girl had stopped over twenty times, distracted by something else each time, he's sure of it.

Just to be sure, Jungkook lingers around the apartment building a little longer, but when it seems apparent that the girl is going to be staying there, he finally heads home.

Geez, Jungkook thinks in annoyance as he climbs the stairs that lead to his own apartment. His head is spinning with so many questions while he unlocks his door and yanks his boots off with a groan.

But when he plops down onto his bed in his tiny studio apartment, he just stares at the ceiling, his mind suddenly blank apart from one question.

Who in the hell would put a hit on this girl?

Copyright © @writemywaytoyourheart 2021

Next

a/n: I hope you guys are liking the setup so far, thank you for all the positive reactions from the prologue!

[buttsmasher]

Smell of an Alpha

[The fantastic @one-inch-chick submitted the photo that gave me this idea. BTW if you haven’t checked out his art yet, you should do so, he’s extremely talented. Feel free to check out the photo here.]

Warnings/Tags: Face Farting, Gay Farting, Willing Victim, Teasing, Pass out from Farting, Cumming from Farting

You try not to stare as Demarcus runs around the track. But the way his ass moves up and down in those tight pants is just purely erotic. You can’t not stare, and you know you can’t be the only one. No man should have an ass that fat and so hypnotic. You just try to take a peek and next thing you know, you dick is straining in your trainers as you’ve watched him run two laps.

You firmly shut your eyes and put your head in your hands so there’s absolutely no way you can keep staring. You keep willing your boner to go away so you can go back to stretching and start your morning jog, but your mind keeps wandering to Demarcus’s massive ass. You can’t help but imagine having him sit straight down onto your face after running all day in this terrible heat.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You say absentmindedly as you ball your hands into fists. “Come on man, get yourself together.” You gave your cheeks two slaps before jumping up and bouncing from foot to foot. Your eyes are still closed and by some miracle your boner has decided to leave. But when you open your eyes, you freeze.

Demarcus is currently in front of you bent over touching his toes, his ass in perfect view. Your mouth falls open and you can feel drool starting to drip out of your mouth. His ass is just...perfect. There’s no other word for it, and you just want to know what it feels like. Your body takes a step closer to where he’s currently stretching. You have no control over yourself as you move on auto-pilot. 

You watch as your hand reaches out and smacks his sizable ass. Then your hand grasps his right cheek and you shake it. His ass fills your hand completely and you can smell his musky body from where you’re standing. Your eyes go up his back and you come eye to eye with him. He’s giving you a confused look as he looks down at your hand and then back up to you and he gives you the most shit-eating grin.

“You havin’ fun?” He asks knowingly.

“Uh-uh I-I-” You fumble for words as you snatch your hand away. “Wh-why did I do that?” 

“It’s alright bud.” He claps your shoulder. “You’re not the first fag to get overwhelmed by me.” 

“I’m-uhh-” You clear your throat “not a fag?” You don’t know why it comes out as a question but it makes Demarcus laugh. 

“Look man,” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in close. “I know I have a great ass. I ain’t blind. And what kind of human would I be if I didn’t let a fag get off to my ass every now and then.” He moves a hand of yours so it’s touching his glutes. 

“Uh thanks?” 

“You’re welcome.” His smile is very confusing, a bit cocky but also a bit genuine. You’re not too sure what to make of it. You both stand there quietly as he continues to let you grope his ass. He then slowly moves your hand over his crack.

PFFFFFFF

You stare at him in horror as you realize he just farted on your hand. 

“Well I have to get going.” He looks at an imaginary watch. “See ya around?” You stare at your hand and then back at him then back at your hand.

“Yeah-well maybe?” Your confusion makes him laugh and you watch as he walks away.

“See ya tomorrow fag!” He gives a wave and you wave back even though he’s not even looking at you. 

“Tomorrow? Yeah.” You mumble the words not really registering with you. All you can focus on is your hand. You slowly bring it up to your nose and you take a small whiff. Your eyes go cross as his lingering ass funk fills your nose. You need to get home now!

You rush back to your car to head home, totally forgetting to even do your workout. The only thing you can focus on is how his ass felt as you squeezed and how amazing that fart smelt on your hand. You can’t even wait to get home and end up having to stop on the side of the highway to rub one out. You end up cumming in your boxers and by the time you get home it’s all gross and dried.

You plant your face against your steering wheel to catch your breath. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” You sigh.

*****The Next Day*****

You’re embarrassed to say that you came back the next day just to see Demarcus in action again. Not even pretending to do a workout today, you try to hide in an inconspicuous spot where you don’t think he’ll be able to notice you. You even bring binoculars with you. 

Shit, maybe he’s right. Maybe you are a fag.

You’re looking through them, trying to find any sign of him when finally you see him exit the locker rooms and head out to the track. This time he’s wearing a tighter pair of shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. 

You take a big gulp, trying your best not to let your mind get overwhelmed with even more inappropriate thoughts. You can’t lie though, you came about 5-7 times last night from different scenarios you would beg Demarcus to try. But right now, this is probably the best you’ll get.

You spy as Demarcus stretches on the side of the track. Again his ass is in perfect view and your dick is quickly tightening your pants. He lifts his leg up to his butt and holds it for a moment and then does the other before he finally starts jogging around the track. You notice he seems to be going slower than yesterday and in his second lap you can see himself fanning his face like he smelled something bad. 

Your mind immediately goes back to one of your mastubatory dreams from last night where he loads you up with his manly gas. The thoughts make your dick thoroughly strain against your boxers and you try your best to think of anything else. 

Demarcus stops in front of you, maybe 20 feet away from your hiding spot. He puts his hands on his knees and takes a couple of deep breaths.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

From your vantage point, you can hear him releasing terrible torrents of gas. “Fuck.” He says pretty loudly as he rubs his stomach. “What did they put in that protein shake?” Demarcus stretches to the left and then to his right and makes eye contact with you. You see his pained face turn into a mischievous smile. 

“Well hey there fag face!” He says standing upright. You give a short wave back as he walks towards you. “Were you here hiding from me?” 

“Nooo.” You say unconvincingly. “I just like-uh-being one with nature.” 

“Sure you do.” You see his right eye twitch.

PFFFFFFFFFFFF

“I’m telling ya man, I’ve got the worst gas today.” He pats his stomach a couple times.

“Yeah I can, uhh, hear that.” 

“If only there was a fag ‘round here, that would graciously sniff these butt blasts so I don’t have to smell them.” You gulp, he couldn’t possibly mean you could he. “Do you know one?” You shake your head no. “You sure?” You nod. “Well if you find one, tell him I’ll be in the locker rooms.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck.” You whisper-yell as Demarcus jogs back towards the direction of the locker rooms. You argue with yourself whether or not you’re going to go. “I have to go.” You stand upright. “I have to.” You quickly jog after Demarcus.

When you get to the locker room, you see Demarcus bending over the bench and letting out soft groans.

PFFFFFFFFBBRBRFFFF PFFFFFFFFFF

He’s still letting out farts and you can’t stop yourself from walking up behind him and getting on your knees. Demarcus notices you and makes a show of shaking his ass. “Couldn’t stay away couldya?” You sheepishly shake your head no and you take a loud inhale of his musky ass. “It’s alright, all you fags need to learn at some point.” He moves his hand behind your head and holds you firmly against him. “You can’t resist an alpha.”

PFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTT

You’re subjected to the pure manly stank of him. It’s raw and terrible and it makes your eyes water. He strongly smells of rotten eggs and you have to ask yourself how you got yourself in this situation. You don’t fight him though, you just stay there taking deep whiffs of his ass funk. 

“There you go, breathe me in.” Your mouth slightly falls open. “Let my ass control your thoughts.” His voice is so calm and addicting, you fall into a trance. “Deep breath.” You take a large inhale.

PFBRBRBBFFFFTTTT PFFF

He times the farts perfectly making sure you get a lungful of his toxic fumes. “Yeah, like that. Breathe me in fag.” You take another large breath not wasting any of the rotten garbage he’s releasing from his ass. 

He lets go of the back of your head. “Lay down for me fag.” 

“Yes sir.” You obey laying down on the rough concrete floor.

“Good fag.” He squats down over your face, his ass not quite touching you.

PFFFFFFFBRBRB PFFFFFFF PFFFF PBFBFBF PFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFF

“Aww fuck.” He sighs in relief and you push your head against his clothed ass again. “You like how that smells?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Yes Alpha.” He corrects.

“Yes alpha.” 

“What’s it smell like?”

PRFFFBFFFTTT PFFFFFFTTTT

“Old eggs. Rott-rotten sewage?” You struggle to put a coherent thought together, your fag brain blissed out. 

“Do you want more?”

“Please alpha, give me more.” You beg and you hear him chuckle. 

“Anything for you faggot.” You watch as he pulls his shorts down so you’re staring at his bare ass. He finally puts his full weight on you by sitting down straight onto your face.

PFFFFFFFFFFBRBRBFFFFFFFTTT

“That’s just for you fag. So make sure you get it all in your fag lungs.” 

“It smells so good, alpha.” Your brain is empty with the only thought to serve him. 

“You fags are so easy. One whiff of a man, and here you are. Begging me for my nasty farts. You’re as bad as a pig. You know that right? You’re a pig, fag.”

PFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFBBRRRFFFFFFFTTT

You know he’s right. You should be disgusted, but seriously you’re so fucking hard you’re scared that you’re about to unload in another pair of your boxers. Your eyes are rolled back in pleasure as you inhale everything he gives you.

“I bet I could make you cum from this.” He waggles his hips, making sure you’re bounced between both of his cheeks. “Think you could cum from me farts piggy?” You fevisherly nod your head yes, and he laughs. “Fucking pathetic.” He gets out between laughs. 

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

And there it is. You’re seeing stars as you start shooting your load in your boxers.

PFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFF PFFFTT

His ass doesn’t let up as your back arches from the amount of cum you’re shooting. It’s probably one of the best orgasms that has rocked your body.

PFFFFFBRBRBFFF PBBBFFFFFFFFFFFF

Fart after fart gets let loose to the point that you go from seeing stars to everything going black from lack of fresh air.

“Alpha.” You struggle.

“Nighty night piggy.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTT

Everything goes black as your head falls lax onto the concrete floor. The worst smelling fart knocks out any remaining fresh air that you had left. Demarcus gets up leaving you on the floor to marinate in his stink. When you do finally wake up, you find his scent still lingering all over you and your shorts are sticky from dried cum.

You can’t help it that your hand snakes its way down to your dick and you start jacking off to the lingering scent of the alpha. It’s natural for a piggy to love the stink, especially a piggy fag like you.

[butwhyduh]

Can you write something with Cassandra Cain/ Black Bat and the prompt ‘sexy training/sparring’ with supersis!reader?

Ooooo Interesting idea.

Warning: suggestive but no smut

Another complete mission done and the post mission meeting was coming to a close and you just wanted to take your shower and go to bed. Nightwing finally nodded and you started walking up to your room along with everyone else.

“Hey, can I talk to you,” he asked and you turned around. The others filed out around you.

“You were reckless. You could have gotten hurt today-“

“I don’t have a scratch on me-“

“And if they had Kryptonite or magic, you’d be dead,” he finished his sentence. “You need training before I let you go back out in the field. You’ll get someone hurt. Mandatory remedial training starts tomorrow.”

“Wing- really?” You protested.

“Yep! And I have just the person to punch you into shape,” Dick said with a positivity that was purposefully annoying.

“Who?”

“Black Bat,” he said while leaving the room.

“… Black Bat?” You mumbled after he left. So you’d worked with her a few times. She’s an insanely good fighter and her outfit is super scary. And you might have a tiny huge crush on her.

The next morning you were surprisingly nervous. Was it the fact that your heart beat a little faster when you thought of spending all day with her? Maybe. Was it genuine worry that she might find a way to actually hurt you? Maybe. We’re you gonna get your ass beat? Absolutely.

Cassandra and Dick walked in together and he rubbed his hands together happily. She was wearing black Lycra clothing and no mask. Her black hair was chin length and brushed back from her forehead.

“Okay so Cass is gonna train you with some defensive and offensive maneuvers but first we just want you to spar. No powers from you,” he looked at you. “No speed, no flight, and definitely no super strength. Cassandra is still a regular human. Even though she kicks everyone’s butt,” Dick said in a false whisper. Cass had a small smile.

“I’m not worried,” she said and her smile grew. You smiled nervously. You were gonna die.

“Alright, let’s spar,” Dick said.

“Okay,” you squeaked out.

Cass got in a fighting pose and you held your hands up. She immediately swept your legs from beneath you and you landed on the mat solidly. You tried to jump back up but a kick to the side had to landing on the ground again with a small oof of air puffing from your chest and if actually hurt. That was a new sensation.

“You are.. durable,” she said conversationally as she danced around you and you barely dogged most of her punches.

“Uh yeah, part Kryptonian,” you answered and another kick landed on your ribs and you were wincing in pain. How was she actually hurting you?

“That kick would have killed anyone else and she barely reacted,” she told Dick. He nodded. “But she is not trained to fight. Only strong enough to be hit,” Cass added.

“I’m right here,” you protested. “Wait, killed??”

She kicked your legs from beneath you and you landed bodily on the ground. Cass quickly wrapped her legs around your arm and shoulder in a hold and pulled. It didn’t quite hurt but you weren’t able to move either.

“Do you tap out,” Dick asked and you kinda pulled your arm for Cass to go along with it. You tried to sit up and was rewarded with a kick to the same spot on your side as before. It dropped you back to the floor.

“… yeah,” you groaned. She immediately let go and got back in a standing position. You rolled to your feet slowly.

“No super strength,” Cass reminded you.

“Again? You beat me easily,” you said.

“Make it less easy,” she smiled widely and your heart pounded in your chest at the sight, even though it meant she was going to beat you up again.

Dick’s phone went off and he walked to the edge of the room to answer. You took the break to grab some water. You weren’t tired exactly but it was something to do. He came back with an apologetic look.

“I’ve got to go. But you two keep it up. Cass knows what she’s doing. Sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay. We’re having fun,” she said.

“We are?” You said surprised.

“Yes, I don’t have to hold back.”

“Great,” Dick said as he left the room and you up Cassandra’s mercy. Your nerves went sky high. You were way too attracted to her to act normal in this situation.

She stood back in a fighting pose and motioned for you to attack her. You gave a punch far from full strength and before you could blink, she had hit you twice in the ribs with the side of her hand and pulled your hand behind your back and upwards.

“Don’t leave yourself open. Hands up,” she commented while releasing your hand. You nodded.

You started again with a punch and this time you blocked one hit but she kneed you in the stomach instead and you groaned. How hard could she hit?? She knew what areas to hit. You tried to punch her and she knocked your legs from beneath you and you hit the mat again, this time on your back.

Cass straddled your waist and started hurling you with a barrage of punches that you could barely dodge. You tried to hit back only to have her tie your wrists with a rope you hadn’t even seen her grab from some pocket. She was lightning fast. You pulled at them before stopping when you realized you couldn’t use your super strength in the fight.

“Do you tap out,” she asked and you could only stare at her. Holy shit you were too gay for this. Way too gay. She was straddling your waist ffs.

One of those things that wasn’t public knowledge was her increased abilities to read body language. Cass studied you and the way you moved and looked at her and it didn’t take much to learn what was on your mind.

She increased the pressure by pulling your wrists. You gasped. “Do you tap out?” Cass repeated, looming over you.

“I- uhh,” you stuttered. Your mind was gone. Smoke. A pretty girl was on top of you.

“Why are you… flustered,” she asked. She was staring at you like a detective. Was she bending closer? Her heartbeat wasn’t louder, you realized. But that didn’t mean much to a bat who probably trained that away.

“Well- you’re, I mean,” you stuttered again. She was definitely bending down towards you and you froze. Cass bent by your ear and your skin tingled at her breath.

“You find me distracting,” she whispered. It wasn’t a question. “You often watch me train.” She ran her teeth along the edge of your earlobe and you loudly inhaled. Your hand wrapped around one of her wrists lightly as best it could. Cass turned her head and you couldn’t help but look down at her lips.

“You’re brash. And reckless,” she stated and you gulped. She looked your face over before continuing. “But you have a kind heart.”

You turned your face to better accommodate a kiss if she wished. Hopeful but certainly not expectant.

“Too bad you can not fight,” she mused before pressing her lips against yours. You melted in her touch. You tried to cup her face or hug her or anything to only feel the rope around your wrist. She nibbled on your lip and you ripped the rope to thread your hand in her hair.

She pulled back. “No super strength.”

“But-“

“None,” she said tilting your chin up towards her. You put your wrists back where she had them. She pressed her lips back against yours and you couldn’t help the soft sounds you made. You pulled away at the noises in the hall.

“Nightwing,” you breathed and Cass was up and standing like nothing happened within a second and right before Dick opened the door. You, of course, looked like an idiot laying on the ground.

“Any progress,” Dick asked as you stood back up.

“Uhh,” you started.

“She will learn,” Cass answered. Dick was looking at you and Cass grinned like a cat at you from behind you.

“Yep,” you said and he smiled.

“Good. We’ll schedule it a few times a week,” Dick said while typing on his phone. Probably making the schedule already. “Just until Cass decides you’re ready. Now you have flying training with Koriand’r. You’ll be in fighting shape in no time.”

————————————

Hours later:

“So how is Y/n doing?” Clark asked Dick.

“Good. She’s training to be a better fighter before I put her out in the field.”

“Who with?” Clark asked with a frown. “Even though she didn’t grow up fighting, she has super streng-“

“Don’t worry. She’s training with Black Bat and to be honest, she probably won’t get a single hit in,” Dick said with a grin.

“I’m surprised she didn’t faint,” Clark said jokingly. Dick’s smile dropped.

“Is she having an health problems or anything-“

“No no. She’s just a… big fan,” Clark said. Dick nodded casually before realization hit him.

“Like that?”

“Hahaha yeah,” Clark said with a laugh. “Anyways, I’ve got to go. Talk to you later.”

[vexillumalbum]

MLQC boys being interrupted while having sex w/Reader

I think the title is pretty self-explanatory. 

All I want to say is that I wrote it long ago so there might be some mistakes. Also please bear in mind that English is not my native language. Thank you! I hope you'll enjoy!

NSFW below!

Gavin

The orange rays of the setting sun warmed the naked skin of your back pleasantly from behind the windows. Your boyfriend's white button-up casually framed your waist, barely clinging to your forearms, previously sliding off your shoulders. You had to hold it with your hands to keep it from sliding completely off. 

In fact, in that position, Gavin had a perfect view of your bare curves, with the shirt or without it. 

He was lying on his back facing you, propped up on pillows with his arms behind his head. His watchful gaze never left your body, even for a moment. His amber eyes scanned your figure, gliding over your perky breasts, smooth skin glazed in orange and silky strands of hair dancing near your neck and collarbones with your every move. 

He licked his lips.

“Come here.” It wasn’t an order, but also not a plea. It sounded more like a request of a man so in love with his girl that he couldn’t bear not touching her anymore. 

You giggled - and Gavin could’ve sworn it was the prettiest sound in the whole universe - before wrapping your fingers around his outstretched hand, letting yourself be guided to his solid body. 

Minutes later you were a moaning mess, your hips pinned to the mattress by two calloused hands, the devilish sounds coming from between your legs mixing with heavenly whimpers of your boyfriend’s name that were leaving your bruised lips. 

The grip you had on Gavin’s hair tightened when he sucked on your clit in time with his fingers working magic inside your heat. In response you heard a growl as his hips started assaulting the mattress even faster. The beast has been awoken

Tingling on your skin came as a warning for the pleasure that was supposed to arrive next. Your muscles were squeezing Gavin’s fingers hard and he couldn’t wait for his cock to be enveloped by your wet warmth next. Heels dug into the mattress, fingers gripping white sheets, head thrown back with parted lips and ragged breath and—

Thump thump thump

“Are you guys okay in there?!” Minor’s concerned voice sounded from outside of the bedroom right after knocking. It startled you to the point where you jumped up, covering your bare figure with anything you could reach for, even though you were sure the doors were closed and the intruder wasn’t able to come inside the room. “I’ve heard some weird noises and I thought I’d check on you! You know, better safe than sorry!”

Gavin immediately looked over you, checking if you were alright, before turning his head to the door with a look that could kill. He palmed himself through his boxers, his erection still evident and painful. 

“We’re alright! Thanks, Minor.” After a brief moment of silence you managed to say, not knowing if you should laugh or cry or maybe both. You heard a quiet “okay” and some shuffling - the intruder left the area.

In a moment of passion both you and Gavin had forgotten that Minor was temporarily living in your apartment due to AC disfunction at his place. He wasn’t a perfect roommate but at the same his presence wasn’t overbearing and you didn’t have any complaints… up until now.

“I’ll beat him up.” Through clenched teeth Gavin’s voice was low as he was putting on some shorts he took out of the drawers, and he now resembled the Super-Scary-Officer-Gavin more  than Your-Loving-And-Doting-Boyfriend-Gavin. 

“Don’t be so harsh on him. He was concerned.” You giggled only to be met with a doubting look from your boyfriend. “As he said, better safe than sorry.”

“I’ll give him something to be sorry about.” Poor Minor

Victor

The last few weeks have been pure torture. You were very open about how much you hated these business trips that both you and Victor had to take all the time to different places in the world. Your boyfriend was less outspoken, however the days of longing were taking its toll on him as much as on you. Sleepless nights, lonely dinners, unfulfilled lust…

Therefore, when there were no meetings, reports and proposals to write or filming sites to visit on the horizon, you jumped almost literally at the opportunity and took Victor to the wellness center. 

It was a pleasant evening, the sun had recently set, but the heat was still there, aligned from time to time by the cool breeze. The white bathrobe your only cover as you and Victor relaxed on the private terrace of the apartment, with the sound of the bubbling jacuzzi in the background.

Sitting in his lap, your boyfriend was caressing your bare thigh with one of his hands, while the other was stroking your hair. It was an intimate moment shared between two lovers finally reunited and ready to spend some much needed relaxing time together. 

Until…

It started as an innocent kiss between sips of fine dry wine selected by Victor himself.

He had you almost fully naked on his lap, with your robe slipping down your back, threading fingers in your silky strands and tasting your lips - which he had to admit - were even tastier than his favorite crimson beverage.  

You were determined to get him naked, to free these gorgeous muscles from beneath the soft robe. With your nails scraping his skin lightly you were revealing more and more of his toned body earning sweet sighs from Victor as a reward. 

His skilled fingers moved from your hair to kneading your butt, making your already wet pussy to rub on his clothed hard length. The added friction was like a cherry on top of the whole make out session but you didn’t want to stop there. Why would you settle for just a cake when you can have a full four course meal, right?

“Victor, I need it, please.” You begged when he didn’t want to give you what you wanted well knowing what was it that you desired. 

“What is it, babygirl?” His question was whispered into the damp skin of your neck where Victor was leaving love bites. “Tell me what you need. You know I’ll give you everything.” He sounded so seductive, his low voice was making you shiver and you were sure your pussy was getting wetter and wetter with every word he said. “Just say it.”

“You.” You crumbled. “I want your cock. Please.”

He fulfilled his promise a few seconds later when you felt his girth stretching you out in the best way possible. Victor gripped your hips and with a look that was telling you to prepare for a ride, he started thrusting up while roughly bringing you down on his cock over and over. 

You gripped his shoulders with one hand while the other was clamped over your mouth to make sure no-one could hear the moans your boyfriend was bringing out of you.

So close, you were co close, and when his thumb pressed on your clit, you could swear you saw stars and—

Bzzt bzzt bzzt

You jumped at the sudden sound, fear taking place of lust and passion. With a quick look to the side you saw that Victor’s phone was ringing and the caller’s ID was “Financial Director”. Thinking it was important you exited his lap, sliding to the next chair. 

A low growl escaped him when you pulled away, his member still as hard as ever. His furrowed brows were the indicator of how much he didn’t like what you did, but you only smiled to him sheepishly and gestured to his phone. 

A part of him was impressed of how much you valued his work and that you knew how important it was. Yet, the other part was furious that your love making fucking got interrupted. 

He took a second or two or more who knows if he stopped time to admire your rosy cheeks and bruised lips and how you were panting after minutes of passion, before picking up his phone from the table and answering the call.

“Be quick.” The tone of his voice so much different than when he was talking to you, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched - he was mad. But that didn’t stop him from giving you a look that you could only describe one way: I’m not done with you yet.

Shaw

At times like this, you were immensely grateful for the almost deafening music that could be heard in the Live House all the time. 

Usually, it annoyed you that the rumble from the speakers drowned out any other noises - like when you were talking to others, but now you liked that you had the freedom to moan as Shaw's hips were pounding into you to the rhythm of the club song. 

Hands clutching his muscular arms, head tilted back repeatedly hitting the wall behind you, you were braced for a wild ride. Your boyfriend's hands tightly squeezing your ass supporting your weight, his hot lips nibbling at your neck marking you in every place he had access to, his cock driving into you with a reckless abandon.

And all of this caused by your short dress that showed a little too much skin in Shaw’s opinion (and he would never have thought that something like “too much skin showing” would be a problem for him but seeing every guy in the club eyeing you had his blood boiling) and your teasing ways.

During the break between songs, when Shaw had a chance to rehydrate himself for another hour on stage, your boyfriend decided to satisfy a different type of thirst. For your pussy

Sex with Shaw was always fun and wild and everything you ever wanted. But it was the best when he was hot and bothered and when envy was seeping through his body like a venom making him see red.

To be honest, you weren’t surprised when he grabbed your wrist right after exiting the stage and pulled you into the back room. You weren’t surprised when he pinned you to the wall, his lips already marking your collarbone as his hands were skillfully pushing your panties aside. You weren’t surprised when he unzipped his pants and pushed them down, freeing his hard cock.

And you sure as hell weren’t surprised when he slid into you with one sharp thrust while sucking on the sensitive skin below your ear.

“Tell me,” he panted in between the thrusts while his tongue was exploring your neck. “Do you enjoy making me jealous? Do you think it’s funny or something?”

As you were able to only whimper and moan, you didn’t respond. Of course you were enjoying making him jealous once in a while, especially when you were rewarded with his hips snapping into your in the back room of Live House.

“Answer. Me.” You swore he wanted to kill you with how intensely he was impaling you on his cock.

“Yes! Yes oh god yes!” You managed to choke out right before his fingers pinched your clit. Loud scream elected from your throat and you didn’t fail to notice the smirk Shaw was having plastered to his handsome face.

“Let me make this clear, baby.” He slowed a little as he leaned into you to have his mouth right next to your ear. “You are mine. Only mine.”

You wanted to respond. Say something, anything, but then—

“Shaw! We’re going back on the stage!” 

Adam’s voice broke through the music and your pants along with a few pound knocks. You jumped at the sudden intruder, your eyes wide and lips parted. 

Shaw on the other hand was totally unfazed when he started thrusting into you with a full speed again. And again. And again. And again. 

He didn’t even say anything back, he just went straight back into fucking your brains out.

“I told you, you’re mine.” He murmured into your sweaty skin when he saw how startled you were. “So focus on me and only me.”

Lucien

You liked surprising your boyfriend. For example when you visited him at the university with some tasty lunch and a big smile plastered to your face, or when you learned how to brew tea so you could make him the best beverages when he was particularly stressed with work, or when you memorized all scientific names of his favorite butterflies to feel closer to him through joined hobby…

Or when he came back to his office at the Research Center after a tiring laboratory work only to find you wearing very skimpy purple lingerie and his lab coat, sitting in his chair with a smug grin and a twinkle of mischief in your eyes.

Part of him wanted to chide you for being reckless like that. After all, he would as much as kill, without even batting an eye, anyone who stumbled into his office with you being inside looking like that. 

But other part of him the freaky part already imagined taking you in various positions, against different surfaces during his whole lunch break. 

And so he started with face-fucking you on his desk, while pinning you to the mahogany wood with one hand as the other was palming himself through his trousers. Your panties torn and long forgotten on the floor, the lab coat loosely hugging your form with your legs wrapped around Lucien’s shoulders and hands grabbing his hair tightly. 

This man’s mouth could not only recite poetry and name every flower in the garden, but also it was able to make you cum in a record time. You had to bit your lip very very hard to control the volume of your moans.

Your second orgasm was delivered to you by the scientist’s long nibble fingers exploring your warm sensitive flesh like his life depended on it. And in a way it did, because you were the sole purpose of his existence and making you feel good was his mission, so…

Lucien was preparing you for the third one, when you decided that enough is enough. After all, you came there to make him feel good, not the other way around. 

So before your boyfriend could react you pushed him onto his chair and dropped to your knees with a grin, and when he stubbornly wanted to got up again, you batted your eyelashes a few times as you stroked his member through the fabric. He got the message and relaxed into the seat. But don’t be fooled, he was still in control.

“Such a good girl.” He praised you when you were undoing his belt. He gripped your hair guiding your face closer to his crotch.

You’ve given Lucien a blowjob so many times already, you knew exactly what to do. You licked, sucked, bobbed your head and massaged with your hands what you couldn’t fit into your mouth. 

Every sigh from the professor was making you shiver so you worked even harder to hear more of them until—

Knock knock knock

“Professor, excuse me…” From behind the door the head of one of Lucien’s assistants peeked out and before you could do anything he saw the position you and your boyfriend were in and immediately panicked. “Oh my— I’m—I’m so sorry!” 

He was long gone before you could even pull away from Lucien, but you didn’t miss the murderous stare professor had while looking at now - fortunately - closed door. You didn’t know if you should laugh or collapse into the ground from embarrassment. 

You were sure your face was redder than a tomato. Luckily, knowing Lucien’s reputation no-one would be so stupid to tell anyone about this situation. Or so you hoped so.

Before you decided on your final reaction to the intruder, Lucien’s palm grabbed a handful of your hair and he brought your head closer again so that your nose was brushing his hard moist cock. 

“I believe we have some unfinished business here, butterfly.”

Weirdly, you never saw this assistant in the Research Center ever again…

Kiro 

Kiro loved music almost as much as he loved you and his snacks.

So he was taking every opportunity he could to show you around his studio, write music with you and compose. 

And do other, less appropriate deeds.

For the longest time Sunshine Boy couldn’t find inspiration for his newest song. He tossed and turned in his bed every night and skipped meals because of it. He didn’t want to disappoint his fans and you, his greatest biggest fan!

But only if he knew that bringing you with him to the studio would be the cure for his lack of inspiration, he would’ve done it already days ago. Why didn’t he think of it sooner? You were his muse after all! Your moans were the greatest music to his ears!

So that’s how you ended up with Kiro pounding into you from behind tightly gripping your hair to guide your head nearer to the microphone so that every one of your whimpers could be recorded properly. 

The speed of his thrust was setting a rhythm that he wanted his new song to be in which gave him a plethora of sounds escaping your mouth. Oh how much he loved those sounds.

Gripping your hips he angled you a little more so that he could go even deeper, take you even better. He was sure he was leaving bruises on your skin with the force of his grip, but he didn’t care. He would smother them with kisses later. 

“More, Miss Chips. I wanna hear you more.” He murmured as his hand circled your waist and his fingertips pressed onto your swollen clit. If you didn’t know better, you would think that he wanted to kill you from the sheer amount of pleasure he was causing you. 

Your moans were getting higher and higher and Kiro knew it was because you were getting closer to your release. He loved that moment, right before your orgasm when your muscles were clasping around his cock trying to milk him from everything that he had, and your eyes were rolling onto the back of your head and you legs were shaking like leaves on a windy day and—

Bam bam bam

“Kiro, what are you doing in there?! Our recording session starts soon!” Savin’s voice sounded from the other side of the door and Kiro cursed under his breath that he was interrupting his own recording session.

You on the other hand squealed and tried to move away from your boyfriend but he didn’t let you.

He slowed down his thrusts and clamped a hand over your mouth.

“We’ll be there in a minute!” Kiro answered but his agent didn’t seem to be convinced because he insisted on waiting for you two at the door.

When you wanted to move away again, disappointed that you wouldn’t be getting the realest that you wanted, Kiro brought you closer to himself again and started snapping his hips into your once again. His hand still clamped tightly over your mouth. 

“Well, maybe our recording is over but we can at least finish this.”

____________________________________________________

thank you so much for reading!

if you want to read more of my works they are here

[that-was-anticlimactic]

Yes hi, I'd love to know more about your tourettes sokka hc if you're up for it 👀 I'm starving for tourettes hcs so 👀

Oh boy oh boy oh boy!! I can talk about this SO MUCH (I will warn now, there will be some Zukka in this) okay so I guess I’ll start at the beginning...

Sokka was six when he started showing symptoms

It started with just some motor tics but everyone kind of just attributed it to this kid has a lot of energy ahhh

It became more noticeable when he kept almost killing himself with weapons because of his tics and slight carelessness

That’s one reason why he loves boomerang so much, none of the other weapons felt right to him and they would always get in the way of his tics, but he could throw boomerang and it would come back to him so he could keep throwing it and it made him feel calm

Then, Sokka started saying stuff that he didn’t mean to say, but again, everyone was just like hyper kid because it’s not like he was doing anything wrong

But they realized something was up when Sokka started yelling “FIRE NATION” without intending to and sending the whole tribe in a panic

So, Hakoda took Sokka to a nearby trustworthy Earth Kingdom village and that’s where Sokka got diagnosed with Tourette’s (and ADHD)

One of the things with Sokka is touch, like, he feels like touch is constricting and restraining sometimes. The problem is, he LOVES touch, he is a touchy person, but when someone touches him without telling him first or asking him, he doesn’t like it.

Sometimes he mentally shuts down when it happens, sometimes he tics more, the reaction depends on his anxiety levels and who touched him and when and where

The only people he gave a pass to was Kya and Katara. He didn’t even like it when Hakoda put a hand on his shoulder.

It was weird, he could feel the difference when Katara and Kya touched him compared to anyone else and he felt bad because he wanted his dad to hug him, but it felt so wrong

So, Sokka loves touch, but he likes to initiate it

So, moving forward, Sokka and Katara meet Aang, he’s the Avatar, they join and you know, there’s Aang the Avatar, Katara the Waterbender, and Sokka the guy with Tourette’s on the team

At least, that’s how they are known amongst the Fire Nation

Going undercover is so fun for Sokka, but he also has to be really conscious of what he’s doing and what he says and trying to suppress

It takes a lot out of him, but he knows he literally has to do it or he could get caught or expose them and Aang or Katara could get caught

On occasion, he has tic attacks (and for those who don’t know, they’re essentially a really bad TS day or moment where your tics are more consistent and seem to hurt more or you just have like an unending moment of tics where you just can’t stop for a little while. They are usually caused by anxiety or overstimulation or something like that, but they differ for everyone with TS)

The first time it happened in front of Aang, the sweet child panicked because he didn’t really understand what was happening and why Sokka was doing that and really what TS was

Katara is an angel, seriously. She is so sweet to Sokka when this happens and she knows exactly how to ground him and help him get through it

(Seriously, Sokka appreciates her so much. She is genuinely the one exception and anytime she wants a hug or any kind of touch she is allowed to do it)

the first time it happens in front of Toph when she joins is in Bitter Work when Sokka was in the hole

Just looking at Sokka in the whole sends my anxiety up because he literally can’t move! So like, imagine being in a hole for like five hours+ and needing to move like physically and you can feel the sensation in your body and it hurts and burns and tingles but you can’t. Sokka is not having a good time

So, Toph drags him out of the hole and is freaked out because she can’t see what’s happening and it’s scary because Sokka is making noises and hyperventilating and his heart rate is through the roof and Aang ran to get Katara and she can’t touch him because when she pulled him out of the hole he shrieked

She’s cool with it after that, she doesn’t think of him any less or anything, but it terrified her the first time because no one told her he had TS because they forgot to mention it and she couldn’t see what was happening

We all know that Sokka loves Suki and the Kyoshi Warriors with his whole entire heart and once they kicked his butt and helped him learn that sexism is bad, they were so fun to work with?? They taught him their style, obviously, but they also helped him incorporate his TS into it and how to use it to his advantage, something he had been struggling with his whole life

One of the things Sokka loved most about Yue is that she never even mentioned his sounds or movements she just let him do it without questioning him and that doesn’t happen a lot

I feel like Sokka having TS would make his time with Piandao even kore meaningful because he really struggles to keep his hands still so sword fighting does not come naturally to him

Piandao loves it though because it just makes Sokka even more clever and resourceful and he takes his time with Sokka, helping him as much as he can and never getting angry or anything when he can’t stand still

He also added more to what Sokka learned from the Kyoshi Warriors about incorporating his TS into his fighting and using it to his advantage

Not only was his sword an extension of his arm, but his TS was an extension as well

Did Toph and Aang help Sokka incorporate his tics into their scams? Yes, yes they did

Zuko joining the team was weird for Sokka because they kind of just clicked and he realized that they both have a weird thing with touch

On the balloon to Boiling Rock, Sokka is just comfortable around Zuko and his tics are like “cool yeah, have a break” and so he doesn’t tic and Zuko just “why aren’t you ticcing?”

and Sokka is ??? “Huh?”

and Zuko “You usually tic but you aren’t now. Why?”

and Sokka essentially explains that TS is weird and random and sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn’t, but he’s really comfortable and calm so his body is like “ye, let’s chill for now”

and Zuko is like “oh. that’s good. I kinda miss it though”

and Sokka d i e s because what?? Someone likes his tics enough to miss them? Like, they don’t annoy Zuko and he doesn’t tune them out?

and the bender goes on to explain that he likes the noises, they remind him that he is doing the right thing and that he’s here and he didn’t hurt team Avatar and they’re just comfortable / pleasing to the ear

and Sokka DIES

but then Zuko is like mmm maybe you should stay in the balloon and I’ll go to Boiling Rock and Sokka got pissed because he thinks Zuko said it because he’s a nonbender and he starts panicking and ticcing and Zuko panics and kind of just grabs his hand and Sokka... Sokka doesn’t hate it? Like, it feels nice and doesn’t agitate him?

but Zuko was like no I mean because everyone in the Fire Nation guard knows about the guy on team Avatar with TS and I don’t want you to get hurt

At one point in the prison courtyard, Sokka verbally tics really loudly about the moon and some guards hear and head to where they are so Zuko covers for him by screaming about how much he loves the moon

One of the worst moments in Sokka’s life was when Toph was falling and he grabbed her, but he wanted to tic and he knew that if he did, Toph would fall and die and he couldn’t do that, he couldn’t

(he still has nightmares about it happening)

when Sokka becomes an ambassador, some people are pissed because well 1) Watertribe 2) he’s a child 3) they suck 4) they think he’s distracting with his tics and Zuko is not here for it so he will destroy them

Like one time (after they started dating) Zuko overheard some councilors mocking Sokka’s tics and he got PISSED like so pissed and he went off and the found Sokka and hugged him because he is allowed to

oh! Sokka and Zuko’s thing is like hand-holding okay? They both kind of hate it because weird touch stuff, but it’s okay when they do it to each other?? Like, it feels right and like they’re completed and whole and it’s nice

before they start dating, they kind of do it a lot. Like, night before Zuko’s coronation, Sokka finds Zuko and he’s freaking out because what if he ends up like his dad and Sokka kind of just... grabs his hand and they sit there

Sokka is panicking because chronic pain and the cold of home makes it worse and Zuko finds him crying in the library and just... holds his hand

Zuko keeps little things on him all the time like paperclips and paper and writing utensils and things that click and buttons and stuff so if Sokka looks stressed during a meeting he can slip something under the table to him so he can play with it

Sokka also draws a lot during meetings, like, he doesn’t look at anyone throughout the whole meeting, even when he talks. He is able to focus more and pay more attention when he is doing something with his hands so he draws and doodles and sometimes takes notes

Sometimes he just writes the same word or sentence over and over again throughout the whole meeting

Sokka has sensory issues and a lot of noise stresses him out

It’s kind of the opposite of Zuko’s sensory issues? Like, Zuko doesn’t like loud noises and Sokka doesn’t like kind of static-y noises, like... when things sound muffled or muted or people are talking kind of quietly over each other

(Zuko definitely gives Sokka massages when his tics hurt a lot)

Random, but after awhile “yip yip” became a verbal tic of Sokka’s. Sometimes, he would say “you need to yip yip” and then he’d apologize to Appa and tell him that he’s yipping just fine

Toph is kind of like Zuko in how she likes Sokka’s verbal tics

She can’t see-see, but hearing his tics is nice sometimes, especially when she worries

She likes falling asleep to some of his tics

Even though Katara and Zuko are allowed to touch him whenever they want, more often than not they ask first because friendship is magic

Suki is lovely, okay? Like, just her presence is enough to make him feel better and she approaches helping him in a different way, she just talks to him and asks him questions to help him take his mind off of it

Sokka really doesn’t hate his TS, like, yeah, sometimes it pisses him off more than he can even explain, but it’s a part of him and as much as he cherishes when he can sit still, it’s wrong, it’s not him? He sits weirdly in chairs and changes his position every two minutes, he rocks his legs in his sleep, he sometimes even finds his own tics grounding...

Over time and with help from his friends, he learned to not be ashamed and that having TS didn’t make him ant less of a warrior

also, he, Toph, and Zuko are the disabled club✌🏻(and it makes them feel better sometimes in their own little way)

I have a lot more I could say but this is already pretty long, so I’ll end this sweet with Katara is amazing and Sokka’s relationship with her is wonderful and she knows how to help him with his tics in the way that Zuko does and can help center him like no one else and Sokka just loves her so much

Okay! Ah! That was kind of a lot but I hope you like them! Anyone can feel free to add more to this or lemme know if you have any ideas!

Thank you for the ask! I enjoyed writing these:)

[violetsoju]

stay here with me (your heart in mine)

kunimi akira · fluff · 3.8k words

summary: 10 years. a lot can happen in 10 years. but if no effort is made in that span of time, then it's just back to square one, since one plus zero equals to one. and thats where Kunimi has been standing in these 10 years.

song rec: leehi - savior (feat. b.i)

a/n: im terribly late, but here's my fictrade piece for @heatwave2021 for dear mimi (@mimi-cee-hq)! ive gotten to know kunimi a lil better through this piece and i hope i did kunimi justice!! i hope you like it too <33 a huge shoutout to cath and amy for hosting this fictrade event too! this was really fun and also to moon (@moonboohoo) for giving this a once over ♡

“Do you know how great of a good friend you are?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Good. Because I’m revoking your good friend status now.”

Kunimi peers at the source of the voice over his shoulder, groaning in pain when he strains his neck sideways a little more than intended.

“Why so?” He croaks out, stretching his neck to ease the jabbing pain.

“Because a good friend would give their support by revising together or making themselves useful like bringing snacks or coffee. Not coming empty handed and sleeping on all fours like a slab of dead meat on the bed right next to me.”

A slab of dead meat is quite the fitting description, in all honesty. Kunimi’s face is buried into the pillow, butt up in the air, arms stretched out straight by the sides while his legs dangle over the edge of the bed just a little. It isn’t the best position to sleep in, but he can’t find an ounce of energy to move.

It’s quite the contrast from the latter. Kindachi has his face buried in the pile of notes before him, laptop screen staring brightly back at him with notes swamped all over his desk, a couple of empty cans of coffee sitting right on the edge of the messy desk waiting to be recycled. His supposedly easy-to-maintain short hair is somehow tousled from the non-existent wind. And if anyone didn’t believe that it was possible for a giant to shrink to a midget, then they would have to think twice because Kindaichi is the living proof in flesh. He’ll definitely be aching everywhere after his exam tomorrow from hunching all day long.

“Why should I use more brain energy when I’m finally done with my exams? There’s no more space for snacks or coffee on your desk either, so why bother.” Kunimi’s muffled response doesn’t help in relieving the stressed hunched giant.

“You could go somewhere else instead.” Kindaichi points out, jabbing his pen towards the window.

“She’s having her exams now. Plus, your place is nearer to mine.”

“Fancy you knowing who I’m referring to.”

Kunimi doesn’t need raise his head to see the ugly smirk dancing on Kindaichi’s lips teasingly. “You would have the same person in mind if it was you.”

“Nah, I thought it would be Yahaba-san you were referring to.”

“It’s not my fault that my building’s electricity is out till night without any prior notice.” He tries to change the topic.

There’s no way Kindaichi is going to let this slide easily. “Yeah, yeah. Sure. So you would’ve gone to her place if she was at home, am I right?”

Kunimi sighs into the pillow as he fails to make him drop the topic. “Don’t blame me for not being able to finish revising on time later on.”

“I’m already planning to place the blame on you after all.”

【☾】

“Aren’t you going to see her off tonight though?” Kindaichi questions, eyes still focused on the scribbled words inked on the papers scattered before him.

“For what?”

“Don’t you know? She’s leaving tomorrow.”

The new piece of news sparks Kunimi’s attention. “Where to?” He asks, rolling over to his side to face Kindaichi.

“I’m not quite sure,” Kindaichi taps his pen against his chin in thought. “Not quite sure what for either. Work placement, maybe? But I know that she won’t be coming back anytime soon after tomorrow.”

Kunimi’s raised eyebrows matches Kindaichi’s ones, albeit one in scepticism and the other in surprise.

“You seriously don’t know?” Kindaichi asks disbelievingly.

He finds the answer in Kunimi’s shift in position, back facing him again.

Sighing at his friend’s actions, Kindaichi resumes back to the pile of doom before him. “Well, this may be your last chance. Just saying.”

“For?”

“You know yourself best.”

Kindaichi knows that he should focus on the issue on hand that calls for urgency, but his idiot of a friend requires his immediate attention too.

“You’re actually pretty lucky, you know,” He can’t help but say. “All of these years, from primary school, middle school, high school, and even now in university. That’s more than 10 years. And you’re still in square one. That’s honestly quite an achievement.”

“I’ll take that as a complement.” Kunimi snorts.

“Seriously. I know life is a game, but it’s different from volleyball. There are still other matches after losing one, after the ball drops, but in life there’s some matches that end forever after the whistle blows. Even if you try and save the ball in the last minute, the libero may not be there to save your dig after the whistle blows.”

“I didn’t know you were so good with words.” Kunimi rolls over slightly to look at his friend.

His eyes light up in excitement. “I am?”

The grimace written on Kunimi’s face tells him otherwise.

“Okay, but in all seriousness again, you’re really an idiot if you don’t grab hold of the final chance this time. Don’t say I didn’t give you a heads up in advance.”

“You’re starting to sound a lot like Oikawa-san now with the nagging.” Kunimi comments as he rolls back to face the wall, shutting out the latter’s retorts as he sinks into his thoughts.

But Kindaichi’s right. From baby seedlings to the sturdy plants now, it’s been more than 10 years of knowing you. You have been a part of his life for more than half of his years, witnessing his and your growth over the years of stumbling and climbing back up again. To call you a mere childhood friend would be an understatement. Because he knows where you place in his heart. He’s smart enough to know, but perhaps not smart enough to acknowledge it.

But maybe Kindaichi’s wrong too. Maybe life is similar to volleyball too. The positions in volleyball can be used in real life too. Him being a wing spiker and you being a libero. He doesn’t need to look behind his back because you’re always there behind for him, no matter what.

But maybe Kindaichi isn’t completely wrong either. Because he knows time waits for no one. He knows the bitter taste in the gut when the whistle blows just as his hand is mere inches away from the ball dropping to the ground. He knows efforts pay off at the end of the day.

Maybe he should try going all out just this one time. His first that may be his last.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Kunimi doesn’t know how, or even why he ended up here, right in front of your doorstep. There’s still a chance to turn back. Even after a text that has been sent out or the ding on the doorbell that has been rang, he can still back off if he wants. The bag of beer and snacks can be kept for lazy weekends in the comfort of his blankets alone.

Why did he buy snacks anyway? Maybe he should’ve gotten ice cream instead.

But they would melt on the way here. But again, snacks aren’t the best option either. Not to mention beer. Talk about being healthy…

His train of thoughts snap apart when the door swings open before him.

“Hey, you’re here!”

He can leave those thoughts for later, he guesses.

“Come on in. Watch your steps along the way!”

The mini sea of shoes flooding the genkan and the aromatic whiff of dashi soup in the air has him halting his steps. He doesn’t even need to take a peek inside to know that he should’ve went home instead.

“Uh, are you sure you’re actually free now?” He asks over the chatter coming from the inside, still taking a peek at the small crowd huddled in the living room, nonetheless.

You stand in the small hallway connecting the genkan to the living room. “Yeah! We’re actually finishing up, so don’t worry. You can join us for a few bites if you want.”

“Is your friend here? Bring him in! You’re gonna miss out the last serving of pork slices if you don’t hurry.” Kunimi recognises the voice. It’s one of the girls from your friend group that he has hung out with a few times before.

“I-”

“Who is it? Shabu shabu waits for no one. The meat isn’t nice when it gets cold.”

“Don’t be shy! Just come on in! Unless you’re too shy to be graced by our beauty.”

You laugh at your friends’ antics, ushering him to come in. “Come on, you know who they are. They won’t skin you for extra meat.”

Another voice booms from the inside. “We might actually do that if you don’t make your way here now!” A round of hearty laughter that’s mixed with a couple of beer and sake roars loudly.

Kunimi heaves a wary sigh, calculating his options. “It isn’t that. It’s just…”

“Just what?” You ask.

He looks up to your quizzed look, then to the sudden quiet living room where multiple heads are craned out like a flock of ostriches, each with a devious knowing look on them.

Now there’s definitely no way to make it out of here unscathed.

One of the girls clears her throat loudly. “You know what’s the best way to wrap up the feast? Ice cream.”

“Yes! We forgot to pick some up along the way. Could you go get some for us?” Another girl chirps in, while the others nod their heads in agreement.

You scoff playfully at them, hands crossed against your chest. “You’re asking me, the owner of the place, to go get ice cream for the guests? And leave my friend alone here in danger?”

“Who said he’s gonna be here with us?” A girl raises her hand in defence. “Take a look outside! The moon is so lovely tonight. Isn’t it such a beautiful night to walk under the moonlight with your dear friend together hand-” Her sentence gets cut off by the others who cover her mouth before she blabbers any further, smiling meekly at the both of you.

You stumble a few steps to catch the jacket thrown in your way. “Any ice cream will do! And take your time! Don’t worry about us.” They wave you off, resuming to the steaming shabu shabu on the table.

The both of you look at each other bewilderment, digesting what just happened seconds ago.

“Well… Ice cream?” You chuckle, soothing the jacket in your hands.

He chuckles too. “Yeah, ice cream it is.”

So maybe getting snacks was the right option.

The early autumn wind nips on the skin lightly. The crunching sounds of dried crumpled leaves on the pavement makes up for the comfortable silence that blankets the both of you on the way back, bag of assorted ice creams in hand.

“What a great bunch of friends you have.” Kunimi comments.

“They’re quite a handful, but yeah, I can’t imagine the past four years without them.” You laugh light-heartedly. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in? I promise they won’t bite.”

He shakes his head lightly. “It’s alright. Just dropped by to bid you goodbye and to pass you these.”

You peer at the bag handed out and swiftly turn on your heels. “I know you’re lying.”

He almost drops the bag in his hands. “I’m not. Seriously, that’s all I came here for.”

“You could’ve just sent me a text for this. Why bother making your way all the way here?”

Your question has him frozen in his steps, brain malfunctioning as he fails to come up with a convincing and rational answer.

You take the chance to plop onto the nearby stone bench, ignoring his snorts when you hiss from the coolness of the surface. “Well, I’ll be seated here until you tell me what’s the purpose of your special visit.”

“The ice creams will melt.” Kunimi reasons, digging his hands into the pocket of his jacket.

“Doesn’t matter. We can go get them again. I’ll just charge them double.” You shrug, waving him off dismissively.

“Plus,” you emphasize, “they told us to take our time. So I have all the time in the world to hear you out.”

He knows that you won’t budge until he gives in, given your personality. So he heaves another long breath and drags his feet next to you.

You rummage the bag for the ice cream you picked earlier, handing him a caramel flavoured one as he thanks you. You catch the little smile tugging his lips as he rips open the ice cream packet.

“You still like this specific brand after so many years.” You tease.

He bites the tip of the ice cream to spite you, in which he succeeds. “They’re the best. One of the only ones that hasn’t changed their recipe after all these years.”

You narrow your eyes at the crime he committed as he munches on the ice cream with a deadpan face. One of the things that hasn’t changed all these years is this habit of his too.

“So, ready to come clean now?” You ask. The ice cream in both hands is long gone, melted into a pool of liquid that chills the stomach.

Kunimi sighs for what seems to be the thousandth time of the night. Resting his arms on his knees, he trains his sight on the concrete pavement below. It’s funny how his hands start to feel clammy again despite the cool wind in the air. “So… You’re leaving tomorrow, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Keep calm, he tells himself. “What time?”

“Early in the morning. I almost missed out on the tickets because I got them last minute.”

“Can’t wait to leave, huh…” He mutters.

“A little. I’ve been looking forward to this day for quite some time, and it’s finally here!” You exclaim, excitement lacing your voice.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You snap your head towards him in surprise. “I did. I remember telling you and Kindaichi at the same time. You guys would be one of the firsts to know.”

Kunimi groans in despair as he tries to rack his head for the past memory yet no avail. He blames the now unnecessary scribbled notes from the exam earlier for taking up so much space in his brain.

The bare concrete pavement seems to be more interesting than ever tonight. “When will you be coming back?”

“I don’t know. It depends.”

“So this may be the last time I’ll be seeing you?”

“In a while, I guess.”

Another sigh escapes his lips unconsciously as he buries his face in his hands. What happened to playing it cool, huh.

“You’ll miss me, won’t you?”

A scoff sounds in the air. “As if.” He hastily replies, turning sideways to hide the tint of flush creeping on his cheeks.

You chuckle at his actions. “I know I’ll miss you.”

His eyes finally meet yours. And although his soft hair falls past his eyes a little, you see your reflection in them, as clear as day.

“Then why can’t you stay?” He asks, voice just above a whisper.

It’s your turn to heave out a long sigh. “I can’t, Akira. I can’t.”

“As much of importance you are to me, there’s just as much of importance waiting on the other side for me.”

“That just means I’m not that important.”

He doesn’t know how those words carelessly fell out through his gritted teeth. All he knows that the moon is, indeed, lovely tonight.

It is indeed beautiful night, with the moon bright and round above. But why does he feel like the moon is mocking him? As if on such a beautiful night, with the person that takes up a significant place in his heart, his wishes are fated to not be granted. They fall on deaf ears, discarded aside as he feels his hope slipping away from his fingertips like fine sand in the wind. Maybe this is the price of not going all out all these years.

Time had been kind to him, offering so many chances and opportunities to him. But he wasn’t one to grab hold on them, because he’s used to making it up at the last moment. And it always worked.

However, maybe it’s all too late this time round. Maybe he outsmarted himself this time.

In all these years of knowing Kunimi, you’ve never seen him like this. Not even when they lost the ticket to the nationals for three years straight. Not even when life got him all tied up, juggling schoolwork and work on a thin thread, struggling for a gasp of air. You know he’s a master of keeping his emotions to himself, and you should be grateful that he shows this vulnerable side of him to you on rare occasions, because he trusts you enough to be there to pick up the pieces with him. But today, it hurts even more to see him like this, like a star that has lost its glow, a balloon that is gradually deflating. Because today, you’re the one that’s causing him to fall to such a state.

“Akira. Look at me.”

He doesn’t.

Because he knows that he’ll find something that he detests with all his heart staring back at him: pity. He neither needs your pity to offer solace, nor needs your pity to stay. That would be the worst kind of consequence that he knows he will regret for the rest of his life. Yes, his selfishness and self-interest may be screaming to reign over at the moment, but he knows this isn’t the right way to keep you by his side.

You don’t belong to him; you belong to yourself.

“Akira.”

He shudders as he feels your warm fingers cupping both sides of his cheeks, turning his face to yours. He avoids your gaze on reflex, but as his eyes sweep past yours, he stops. Maybe he really outsmarted himself this time.

Instead of pity, he finds concern, warmth, sincerity. Why is that?

“You know how I feel about you, where you lie in my heart. You’re smart enough to know that.

“But it seems like you’re not smart enough to know yourself.”

He does. Or does he?

You brush his hair that covers his eyes to the side gently, a small smile tugging the side of your lips.

“If you aren’t important, then why do you already have a piece of my heart which I have never given you?”

Kunimi’s breath hitches. The butterflies in his stomach are so close in fluttering their way out from his mouth as he comprehends your words, reciting them aloud again and again in his mind.

He immediately misses your touch lingering on his skin when your hands fall to your sides. “It sucks that I’m not smart enough to know whether I have a piece of your heart that you have never given me.” You chuckle bitterly, looking up to the moon.

You may have been there to pick up the shattered pieces of his heart and soul over the years, but at the end of the day, you return them to him. It’s awfully tempting to smuggle a few pieces, hiding them in your pocket to keep them safe and sound, but you don’t. It’s his heart, his only.

It’s your turn to hitch a breath. “You do,” Kunimi says, placing his hand over yours. “You always have.

“And now, I’ll give you not only a piece of my heart, but my whole heart.” His squeezes your hand gently, leaning in close. “Is it too much to handle?”

It takes a few seconds for you to apprehend his words, and once it links together, the butterflies on your end take flight in frenzy.

“Yes. I mean, no. I-” The chill autumn wind isn’t helping much to cool down the heat rising on your cheeks and ears. You can’t look him in the eye without averting elsewhere other than him. “It’s my honour to be bestowed your heart.

“And I hope it’s the same for you.”

“Look at me.”

Kunimi tips your chin up to face him, and you are welcomed by the soft smile that you love seeing, the one you don’t know that’s reserved for you only.

“Thank you for trusting your heart with me.”

He wondered where the stars in the night skies went tonight. It turns out they were all in your eyes, and they shine so ever brightly even without the sliver glow of the moonlight.

“Come on. We need to get more ice cream.” Kunimi nudges towards the now soggy bag that has tainted the stone bench with colourful liquid.

He picks up the sticky bag with a tissue from his pocket, shaking them a few times lightly as he stands up and extends his other hand to you. “They’re all on me.”

You place your hands in his. “What about the broke student you are?” You quip, footsteps falling in line together with each gentle swing of the hand.

“Hmm, I would rather be broke than be skinned alive in the lionesses’ den back there.”

【☾】

“Where are you leaving for though?”

“Miyagi. Our hometown.”

“What for?”

“It’s my grandma’s birthday tomorrow! I’m going back to give her a surprise and celebrate with my family over the week.”

You turn to him quizzically as he halts in his steps, rooted in place. His face is twisted and contorted in ways you never thought possible. It’s a mixture of shock, dumbfoundedness, and flabbergast all together. Words die at the tip of his tongue as he struggles to find the right words, brain buffering from the sudden new input of information, resulting in information overload as the new and existing information fail to fuse together.

“Where did you think I was leaving for? Some other prefecture for work?”

It takes a whole lot of effort to come up with a complete sentence. “Then why don’t you know when you will be coming back?”

“Because the train tickets back for the week are all sold out. So it depends on when my parents want to drive me back, I guess.”

You drag the babbling mess towards the konbini up ahead like a stone statue that looks like it’s stuck in a daze, caught in a trance.

“I’ll be starting work here in a month’s time. It’s not that far by metro, so I’ll still be renting my place here.”

“Kindaichi you lil shit…”

“Hey, don’t blame him. The best wingman award goes to him! It’s all thanks to him that I get to hold your hand now.

He loses himself in the endless galaxy in your eyes once again, losing sense of gravity.

“And your heart.”