#it did not occur to me that my school would STILL offer half terms in summer

[midnightswaltz]

So, after a rough summer semester (pay attention to the class dates when you register, folks! I ended up trying to learn trigonometry in ONE MONTH), I now have 2 weeks before fall semester starts.

Can I get myself to work on the stuff I've been wanting to (*stares at Terra Incognita*) or will I just be playing video games for two weeks?

[defilerwyrm]

Hello, thanks so much for your last post! I hope this isn't insensitive, but I'd be really interested to know: What helped you get out of right wing ideology? Do you have any advice for helping people out? Thanks!

It was a combination of things over time.

This turned out to be pretty long so I’m gonna put it under a cut. CW for discussions of various forms of right-wing bigotry within.

a) In the midst of a LiveJournal slapfight, I said something that I absolutely in no way meant or even conceived as being misogynistic, but was clearly taken as such, and was chewed out for it. I went “Tap the brakes, what are you talking about?!” and the gal I was arguing with was kind enough (not nice, but kind) to lay it out for me. And I listened. That started me thinking.

b) I realized that the far right that I vaunted literally wants people like me (queer and disabled) dead. I spent a long time in denial about this, thinking I would be an exception somehow.

c) I dug more into the true nature of white pride groups and discovered that, far from an honorable community of people who are simply proud of their heritage, groups like the Aryan Brotherhood are actually murderous, hyperviolent gangs—in some cases, literal prison gangs—of drug dealers, domestic abusers, and straight-up racists, and I couldn’t reconcile that with my notions of honorable behavior.

d) I actually read Mein Kampf. At first it was mostly curiosity and a way to keep people from talking to me in public. Book 1 (the first half) you can kinda see where he’s coming from, wanting a strong, self-sustaining domestic economy, not relying overly on imports, etc; but Book 2 is where he goes completely off the fucking rails, just utterly batshit, and you can tell it’s coming not from a place of “I want to rebuild my homeland after we were devastated by the aftermath of WWI and the Great Depression” but rather “I have a raging hateboner for this specific group of people who had fuck-all to do with that devastation and will make up just the wildest shit to justify and proselytize that hate.” I didn’t have any strong opinions on Jewish folk then so it really whipped my head back. It’s one thing to learn, in the vague terms that my Texas public school education provided me, about the surface facts of the Holocaust, but I don’t think I had any clue what the depths of the vitriol that led to that horror looked like until I heard it from the horse’s mouth. C and D were the big things that showed me that “white pride” isn’t about finding joy in your heritage—it’s about harboring a deep, dark, hideous hatred for others’ heritage. I did not like that.

e) An element that only in recent years occurred to me, but I think an extremely important one: I did not have a right-wing community. All I had in the way of friends & associates were fairly apolitical, mostly queer people who looked the other way when it came to my horrific personal politics. I think I knew at the time that they were unpopular views (or at least, they were in at the turn of the century) and mostly kept them to myself. As I came to accept and understand my own queerness more deeply, as I lived within the poor queer community of my hometown, as I made friends with more and more diverse groups of people, I found things within myself to be proud of, and those close to me—the very people whom the far right still want dead—welcomed me, guided me, supported me. No one on the right was there for me that way. I didn’t have a cluster of far-right friends beating their noxious values back into my head at every turn. The community I had vs the community I didn’t have made it a lot damn easier to make that heel-face turn.

With all that in mind, I think I can offer two pieces of advice:

Understand that far-right ideology is fundamentally built on anxiety and insecurity. Racists, misogynists, homophobes etc latch onto their identities as white, men, straight etc because it’s something they did not have to work for/on and cannot be removed from them, so they hold up these intrinsic traits as things that make them “superior” to others despite evidence to the contrary. Look at how many out-of-shape, mediocre white men brag that they could win a tennis match against Serena or Venus Williams. They don’t think they’re good at tennis—and they are absolutely not going to go through the years of extremely challenging work and practice and dedication required to get that good—they think they’re superior because they’re white men, even though factually either of the Williams sisters would destroy them blindfolded. The reason they go out of their way to make these ridiculous claims is because they feel insecure that someone who isn’t white and a man is better than them at something. This is also what’s behind the whole “Oh they just chose/should choose the best person for the job”—they’re saying they don’t believe someone who isn’t an abled cishet white man COULD be the best person for the job, regardless of what the job is. I don’t think the answer to this is just to point out the innumerable amazing achievements of people of color, queer folk, disabled folk, etc, because they’ll just go “yeah well MY people did xyz.” They’re feeling insecure. What they need is something about themselves to be proud of that they, personally, accomplished: being a good woodworker, or a talented speaker, or a whiz at math, some skill they have worked to foster. What they need is a sense of confidence that their worth is not dependent on what they were born with/as. For me, learning to value myself for who I am and who I can choose to be helped me stop looking down on others for what they are and did not choose to be, because I no longer needed imaginary metrics of superiority and inferiority to prop up a lack of self-worth and an iceberg’s worth of self-loathing.

Separate them from their herd. Understand that many will choose the security of the familiar over the risk of the new. But familiarity does not breed contempt—it opens eyes. A LARGE part of far-right ideology is made up of lies and assumptions and outright ignorance. Don’t just dunk them into the deep end right away, but exposure therapy is the name of the game. It’s a lot easier to think of (for example) Black people as being inferior to you when you don’t freaking know any, or to think of trans people as just a niche category of porn if you’ve never actually talked—and LISTENED—to us. Understand that right-wing social circles are vicious, internecine places where everyone is frothing at the mouth to pull someone down the instant they misstep, and they will expect the same from a left-wing circle. “Well actually” might be your friend here, rather than rubbing their nose in every fuckup or shitty thing they say. The goal is to, you know, teach them how to care about other people, and you have to model that for them. Offer other ways of looking at things instead of just “no, that’s wrong.” This can be an arduous and painful process for everyone, but if their mind can be pried open, it will be worth it in the end.

[nctsworld]

reigniting

✩ mark x reader | dance au | enemies to lovers | car s*x | smut | fluff | 1.6k

SUMMARY ⇾ your hate for your dance captain (and ex-best friend) melts and evolves into something more for the night. WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ smut (near the end), car s*x, swearing, angst in backstory RATING ⇾ mature FOR ⇾ @markleesflathead​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ yes i’m bitter that most of my fics in ask form don’t show up in tag so i might have to post them as individual fics hhh || @markleesflathead​ idk how this ended up into car s*x but i’m sorry if it isn’t what you really expected slkfmd also i’m v flattered to be one of your fave writers *_* thanks for the bday wishes!!

“I missed this.”

Mark suddenly says into the air after catching his breath from all the laughing he just did. With the hand that’s been resting on the steering wheel since he parked the car fifteen minutes ago, he swipes his thumb against it.

Your laughter subsides too, turning your head in the passenger seat to get a good look at him.

The closest street lamp isn’t near enough to cast a light to see all his features clearly, but you don’t need much lighting to see the waver behind his bespectacled face, nor the way his Adam’s apple bobs.

“I missed you,” he whispers softly, then matches your eyes with a tilt of his head.

The beginning was simple. You and Mark, best friends since middle school, about to attend the same university and were going to do everything together, including extracurriculars.

Which included the university’s main competitive hip-hop dance team, since both of you were on your high school’s too.

From what you heard from upperclassmen, every year, the team offered at least five spots open. Of course, Mark and you were confident in yourselves and each other to make the team.

But during your first year, only one spot was available on the team.

The straining of your friendship began to slowly occur, since you saw less of each other in order to train more individually for the auditions.

And when the auditions happened, there was a new tension between Mark and you. Still friends, but competitiveness was a prevalent wall between you two.

The wall grew larger, tangled with vines of jealousy and bitterness, when Mark received the spot, not you.

Both parties tried hard to keep the friendship afloat, but it eventually came crashing down.

“You’re just fucking jealous that I got in and you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” you said. “and I should be, because I’m the better dancer.”

“As if.” he scoffed. He spat out the next words venomously—

“If you were better they would’ve chose you, but you’ve just never been as good of a dancer as me.”

That was the last time you spoke to Mark... for a while, at least.  

When second year came by, you decided to prove him wrong and obtain a spot on the team. Successfully, you did, but partway through the term, the captain dropped out and, to your dismay, Mark was given captaincy.

Fast-forward to today, Mark constantly gave you shit during practices and you knew it was personal.

Sure, you could’ve quit, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. However, you always did wonder why he didn’t decide to kick you off the team when he had the power to do so.

Following one practice, Mark ordered you to come by the studio on a separate night for a talk. He claimed it to be extra training, but you were mentally prepared for him to finally remove you from the team.

However, you were wrong and the unexpected happened—the wall between you two began to crumble. The hostile professionalism during the extra session grew into an area of familiarity, remnants of a lost friendship. After the session, Mark swallowed his pride and apologized about what he said back then, even offering to take you out to dinner.

During the meal, both of you caught each other up on the last year or so, and at the end of the night, Mark drove you home.

Laughing, smiling, and talking with you like the last couple of years were a nightmare faded into nothingness.

And you didn’t mind it, because you missed him too.

But instead of telling him that, you nibble on your bottom lip and rock your head forward with a small smile.

Continuing the conversation from where you left off, after Mark agreed to stop giving you such a hard time during practice, you say, “Can I ask you to stop doing one more thing during practice?”

“What’s up?”

“Please, for the love of God,” you say with your hands clasped in a prayer. “Stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting.”

A hearty chuckle escapes from Mark, leaning his head back into the headrest. “Why is it distracting?”

“You know why!” you exclaim, beaming. “I know you do it on purpose!”

He cocks an eyebrow playfully. “And why would I do that?”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, "Because I know the oh-so humble Mark Lee still loves it when he gets attention."

The driver runs his tongue over the bottom of his teeth in a smirk, hand still on the steering wheel.

"And what about you?” he retorts. “You must still have a thing for arms if you think it's distracting."

You gasp inaudibly, unsure of how he could still remember that tidbit after all these years, and you twist your upper body to inch near him, glaring at him accusingly. "Is that why you do it?"

"Maybe, maybe not..." he shrugs nonchalantly. Leaning closer to you, parroting your stance, he adds in a teasing whisper along with a squint of his eyes.

"You'll never know."

There’s a passing beat as your eyes lock, one that carries the weight of the years of loving each other as friends, hating each other as enemies, working together as dancers, and everything in between.

A moment of connection that represents what everything has been working towards to for a long time, even if you never thought you’d have the chance to ever have Mark in your life again.

His look falters for a millisecond, flicking to your lips, then straight back to your eyes as if he shouldn’t have done that.

The corner of your mouth lifts slightly.

"Are you going to kiss me, Mark,” you whisper daringly. “or are you going to keep staring?"

You’re awfully aware of both of your breathing. Yours, heavy and wanting. His, light and barely existent.

"How do you know I wanna kiss you?" he croaks, a small crack in his voice underlying his question.

Because maybe a little part of you always wondered what it’d be like for Mark Lee to want to kiss you since you were kids—for him to send you that anxious starry-eyed yearning that could send your heart into cardiac arrest.

And now, from first-hand experience, you know it really does.  

You hold your breath and question back—

"Am I wrong?”

The tension in the air snaps. He’s fast to cup your cheeks and crash his mouth into yours. Soft lips move in tandem with yours as you rest your hands on his shoulders, lightly tugging at his body.

The first, tender kiss is quickly thrown aside, along with your shirts. The desire escalates immensely and you’re suddenly straddling him in the driver’s seat, now pushed back to give extra room for both individuals.

"Should we slow down?" you ask offhandedly at one point while Mark’s mouth leaves a hot trail down the side of your neck. At the same time, his fingers glide and grip onto your bare waist, making their way to grasp your breasts.

Mark jerks away from your neck and carefully caresses the back of your head. "Do you want to?"

"Mm-mm,” you hurriedly shake your head and drag him into another strong kiss.

The exciting rush continues to run through both bodies present. When you return to the passenger seat momentarily to rid of your pants, Mark shimmies his bottoms and briefs down to his ankles and pulls a condom from his glove compartment.

“How often do you have car sex?” you joke, straddling him once again after he wraps himself.

In his reclined position, Mark looks up and scans your body quickly, both indulging in your natural beauty and in disbelief that you are here with him right now, after all these years.

“Hey, a guy’s gotta be safe—fuck, God.”

All quips and logic are thrown out the window when you sit on his length.

You have one hand pressed against his defined stomach, the other on the car ceiling. Bouncing with no end in sight, you allow the pleasure to enrapture your senses. Muffled whimpers reverberate against the inner side of your wrist as you feel him deeply with every movement.

On the other hand, Mark tries his best to keep his focus on you, but the intensity breaks him down. He groans in pace with your moving body, and he tightens his hold on your waist.

“Mark—” you cry. You rip your hand from the car roof and, without thought, frantically push it against the driver’s window, smudging the frost that all your collective breathing conjured up. You’re surprisingly already coming undone, and so is your lover beneath you.

“I’m close,” he pants thickly. His hazy gaze attempts to meet your half-lidded eyes, but you’re losing control. All you can do is barely nod and as you’re about to bounce more vigorously, Mark releases your waist and raises himself upward, clutching your back and neck to lock lips fiercely with yours.

You barely can thrust against him, but you don’t need to at this point, because the kiss is simply enough to draw out his climax.

You’re pulled back to reality after a few moments, panting with your foreheads tipped against one another.

“And to counter your question from before,” Mark grins, still breathing heavily. “I’ll only stop rolling my sleeves up during practice if you stop tying your shirt up to show off your waist.”

You try to stifle a smirk, but it can’t be helped. You reply to him with a flutter of the tip of your nose against his.

“No deal, captain.”

nctsworld’s birthday week celebration!

[astrologyandlife]

jupiter and saturn together in the natal chart

i have noticed that, in many of my readings, people have both jupiter and saturn sitting in the same house of their natal chart. this makes sense because a conjunction between the two occurs every 20 years. and to me, this signals an important theme: the need to overcome struggle to unlock the opportunities of that house.

first house - there's difficulty expressing yourself fully. it's like you want to be optimistic and have faith in yourself, but something is holding you back from that. you are almost afraid of being let down. as a result, you carry around this fear and caution about everything. you doubt yourself. when people first meet you, these struggles can be visible to them. the important thing here is that you are the cultivator of your experience, and when you can work through your feelings about yourself and your environment, you will notice that you attract good luck and opportunity. you have the power to consciously change how you approach the world around you through a smile, a little bit of faith, and a more positive attitude. second house - growing up, you lacked some form of security in your life. this could have been in the form of coming from a poorer background, or having a parent(s) that did not consistently care for you in some way. and because you were not valued by those in your early environment, you struggle to ascribe value to yourself. you may develop habits of holding onto things out of fear that you will never have them again. the lesson from this placement is to understand your own worth, and to know that you are entitled to a comfortable, happy, satisfying life. using this framework you will attract wealth and opportunity. third house - the hardest part about this placement is that you feel as though you are somehow "stupid" or your ideas aren't worthwhile. you could have struggled in your early school years for various reasons ranging from not understanding the material to being in an environment that refused to accommodate your needs. you rarely share your own ideas, and you fear being rejected, wrong, or made fun of by others. you must let go of this hesitation and remind yourself that you have valuable ideas to share with the world. you have the power to persuade, to motivate, and to invigorate. in fact, once you stop second-guessing yourself, you will notice that your genius shines proudly. fourth house - your early childhood experiences were, and still are, challenging for you. you could have experienced hardship as a result of being treated poorly by your parents or even going through some trauma in the home, especially if saturn makes aspects to mars or pluto. you have fears stemming from your childhood that hold you back. what is going to be important for you is building a home for yourself that is safe, secure, and stable. in doing so, your chosen family will grow and provide you with the support you need to flourish. fifth house - you have artistic and creative talents, but it is possible that when you were younger, you received heavy messaging that these talents were in some way invaluable or unimportant. As a result, relaxation and self-expression on a creative level is severely restricted. you feel like you always have to justify the things you love. however, you are allowed to simply exist and enjoy things for their sake. once you allow yourself to be creative to the extent you are capable, you will find that it will bring opportunity and happiness to you. sixth house - i definitely get the sense that you have had to be responsible from a very young age, taking care of the chores around the house, watching over yourself, etc. perhaps your parents were particularly strict with you and imposed a lot of restrictions on your daily life. these lessons instilled within you have lead you to desire routine and organization, because you fear chaos. you also tend to put too much on yourself, leading to burnout and extreme stress. here you must unlearn any negative habits or routines you have created for yourself, including overworking yourself. in doing so, you will feel much more calm and collected, which will help you physically and mentally. seventh house - there is a lot of stress and anxiety that comes from long-term relationships. the biggest fear here is the fear that you will never find someone who can fully love and commit to you. though you have a lot to offer, you feel completely

inexperienced or as though you are nothing special. there can be a tendency to downplay your own gifts and strengths. as a result, you feel very lonely in your early life and may be distrustful of love. you are afraid of opening yourself up to rejection and pain, so you avoid forming strong attachments or giving too much of yourself. having faith in yourself and what you have to offer, as well as being confident, will attract people who have an abundance of love and affection to give to you. eighth house - this placement can be heavily indicative of one or more life-changing, traumatic experiences, namely when pluto is involved. this experience has transformed you in some major way, likely inducing a fear of change or the unknown within you. you hold on to these memories and this pain in your heart, which stunts your growth as a person. the second half of the healing must be a conscious act by you, wherein you decide that you have what it takes to continue surviving. there is definitely a need for complete rebirth here. once you have come out on the other side, the magic of life itself will be revealed to yourself. you will become resilient in ways you could never imagine, and you will have the strength to overcome anything. ninth house - i have the feeling that your early life was extremely narrow and did not allow you to explore the world around you properly. perhaps your parents were extremely overprotective of you, or overbearing in sharing their opinions with you, and this was a very suffocating feeling. your own opinions and ideas were not welcome by the people in your life, and often they were even shut down. so you must start anew with your independence. remain open and take time to immerse yourself in anything you can, especially ideas radically different from your own. by opening your mind, jupiter will reward you with a wealth of knowledge and experience from which you can draw. tenth house - early on in your life, ideas of what it means to be successful, accomplished, and a productive member of society were heavily pushed on you by the people in your life. you almost feel as though you aren't meant to have agency in your own future, because you are trying to do what you are "supposed" to do. your parents could have been a bit overbearing in trying to prepare you for the future. trusting yourself and forming your own ideas of success and fulfillment will lead to you experiencing much more opportunity within your career. you must overcome a fear of failure here. eleventh house - on a deep level, you feel completely alone in the world. you feel as though it is impossible for anyone to truly understand you, or that they would even want to try. you are a deeply lonely person at times. i could see this placement as indicating that you were a social outcast or somehow distanced from others in your youth, leading to you believing there is something fundamentally wrong with you that prevents you from forming meaningful relationships. you doubt yourself, thinking, am i boring? am i too plain? am i unlikeable? here, you must cast these thoughts away and put forth effort anyways. twelfth house - the biggest struggle with this is that you feel unable to let go of the past and to forgive yourself. the biggest obstacle here is yourself. you have these feelings like you have done too much bad, or something you have done in the past is irredeemable. you may find that, in times of particular stress, you have nightmares or trouble sleeping. the twelfth house challenges you to let go of all of these things, to forgive yourself. you have to look at your pain and grief and allow yourself to feel it, then to let it go. in some way, you have to completely allow yourself to dissolve. after you do these things, you will find that your life as a whole improves, and you can handle anything much better.

some notes as well:

the closer to conjunction the two are, the more intensely this is felt by the native

if they aspect the sun, moon, or angles, these lessons will come up in the individual's day-to-day life

if jupiter is closer to the beginning of the house, it can lessen the impact of saturn

[dovenymph]

a film by peter parker

authors note: this was inspired by another thinkerpete tweet that read "peter probably watches the bit from "a film by peter parker" where he's in the car with tony over and over when he misses him" and@peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology’s summer of love prompt list💛💛 also the video edit was made by me so please do not screen record/save and repost it even if you do credit me (also this is unedited so sorry for any typos, i’ll probably go through it sometime this week, i just wanted to post it first)

prompts used: 2. making the backyard/rooftop into a movie theater

my masterlist

warnings: mentions of tony’s death, other than that, nothing but fluff

word count: 3.9k

Peter hated the summer.

Peter hated not having anything to busy himself with; no homework, or academic decathlon, or seeing Ned everyday who could wrap him up in his graphic novel fan theories or the drama in his on and off relationship with Betty. It was petty drama and minor stimulation, but it was something to distract him momentarily. But now Ned was in Aruba with his parents for the entire month which meant Peter had to suffer through the scorching heat of Juy all by himself.

Peter knew he didn’t have to be alone each day, -Aunt May had spent many dinners trying to get him to join her at the movies or the mall, even offering to let him have free reign of the lego store (when he said no to that, she knew he was in worse shape than she thought)- he had a handful of trustworthy and dependable friends he could hang out with for the afternoon like MJ and Betty, or even Flash who had been uncharacteristically nice to Peter ever since he found out he was Spiderman; this having happened only a few weeks after Tony had died and Peter had let him in on his secret to console a sobbing Eugene who, honestly, seemed to be more broken up about the news than Peter was. But even with his expanding friend group, Peter had found the most his body could endure was the contents of his bedroom.

He tried to get back out there after Tony’s passing, he really did, but at the first Iron Man tribute he admired on patrol, his body completely shut down and he swung back home, tears dampening the material of the mask.

So a lonely summer was what Peter submitted himself too, and he’s come to terms with it. He’s rewatched his favorite old shows, started binging some new ones. He’s taken apart and put together his lego death star four times now, each time faster than the last. But he’s been particularly fond of staring out the window. His apartment complex was quite close to the building besides his and he could look down into the backyard everyone had to share. Peter’s building had one as well, but since he was pretty sure he was the only person under 35 who lived there, it went unused.

Next door, there was always a different activity occurring in order for the patrons to beat the heat, and Peter often thought about how easy it would be for him to just go downstairs and introduce himself, and ask to join. It’d really be as simple as that and he’d meet some new people, get a free lunch and a chance to swim in the plastic pool they set up; maybe they’d laugh at his jokes and clap when he did flips, but it was all just a maybe, just in his imagination because his brain never let him wander to far before squandering the idea of getting close to someone again, for if history has taught Peter anything, it's that anything he gets close to, is not meant to stay for long and will be soon snatched away from him in the cruelest of ways.

And this thought is what resigns him to slink back behind his window and pout the day away, as he was doing now, vision blurring as he stared at nothing.

“Hey!”

Peter jumped, his eyes focusing on the target of whoever pelted his window and they landed on your form, slumped against your open windowsill, chin resting on your hand as you gazed back at him.

“Can I help you?” Peter bit back after lifting his window half way, his tone unconsciously laced with annoyance. He really didn’t even notice it anymore since that’s how he’s been speaking to everyone in his life for months now, but when you flinched at his tone, guilt started to creep up his spine.

Before he could ever begin to stumble out an apology, you cut him off “Yeah, is there a reason you stare into my room everyday?”

Peter's face flushed red and he opened and closed his mouth like a fish. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had spoken so bluntly towards him, and honestly, he liked it. He was getting tired of everyone walking on tiptoes around him, he just wanted things to go back to how they were, where he was just Peter Parker, your friendly neighborhood student.

“Or could you at least give me some money for some curtains if you just can’t give up the beautiful view of a concrete wall?”

“S-sorry, I- I didn’t even know you were there.”

Lie.

Peter knew you were there, he always knew when you were there.

Peter Parker isn’t a stalker, though! Sure, he’s gone through some fucked up shit on Earth and in space, so yeah, he wouldn’t call himself the most …sane person he knows, but he really wasn’t a creep. With your buildings being so close and your rooms directly across from one anothers, he was bound to notice you at some point.

And at some point he did. It was the first day of summer and Midtown let out at 12 instead of 3 to mark the occasion, so Peter had been mulling about in his room for quite some time already, thinking about how he heard all his classmates amazing summer plans and how the farthest he was going to go was probably the Thai restaurant down the street, and even that was a maybe. Peter sulked in silence until a couple hours later he heard a door slam closed, thumps from things being tossed on the ground, and a loud groan as he peeked through his windowsill at you who was currently flopped on the bed, window wide open without a care, scrolling on your phone.

At first, he was taken aback by your beauty, a small, small feeling of intrigue spiked his system, but it flew under the radar due to the seemingly everlasting dread that’s been weighing down on Peter's shoulders for months. But he couldn’t look away. You’d been doing nothing but looking at tiktoks mindlessly, occasionally cracking a half smile if a video was particularly amusing, but you still remained cemented to your mattress with no plans on moving anytime soon.

This brought comfort to Peter as he fished his phone out from the bottom of his bag and pulled up Ned’s messages and started to look through the media he sent him, almost two months worth of funny memes and videos that he hadn’t been bothered to look at, and he sat there along with you, aimlessly letting the time pass by. He enjoyed it, knowing he wasn’t really alone in his lazy and distracting behaviors because the pretty neighbor girl was doing just the same.

Ever since then, he’s just been …aware… of your coming and goings. He figured you had a summer job as every other day you were gone for a few hours, a solid shift. But on the days you were home, you also spent it mainly up in your room, every now and then, playing music from your record player, and if he was really lucky, you’d, unknowingly, give him a private concert as you sung out whichever niall horan or ariana grande song struck your fancy that day. He grew quite fond of the music, having added some of the regulars to his own playlist. And he enjoyed knowing you were right there, and he was right here; each of you living your lives, as uneventful as they may be, but you were together in some sort of way.

He’d never spoken to you, the ability of being able to just push his window up and call out to you at any time was what he liked, and each day he thought he’d do it but chickened out, and now it seemed like he’d have to make introductions whether he was ready or not.

“Mmm, right, so you haven’t seen me change or anything like that?” You asked and the content of your question and the inquisitive tone brought a flush to his cheeks.

“N-no! Of course not! I-I’d never do that, why would I even want to look at you? I mean! I don’t think you’re ugly or anything I… I just…”

Peter’s ramblings were cut off with your laugh as it bounced off the summer air and into his room. You were fully leaning out your open window now, and Peter had found himself in the same position, as if he was drawn to you.

“I was only joking with ya, but it's still nice to have the confirmation. I’m Y/N, your neighbor! Obviously.” You trailed off at the end, knowing that information was unnecessary since the boy next door obviously already knew that.

He was like no boy you’d ever seen before, only read about in books. He had a sweet disposition and inviting brown eyes that matched his soft chestnut hair. But he was built like a man, a strong jaw and strong arms. You’d seen him leaving his building everyday on your way to school, and when he’d get dropped off in a big black SUV during the late hours of the night, but he walked in the opposite direction or darted inside so fast,you never really got a chance to take him in.

“…Peter?” His tentative tone snapped you out of your daze and you realized he was introducing himself.

“Sorry, Peter! I- I… got distracted… by your… death star!” You let out, eyes focusing on the black and grey figure resting on his bed.

Peter felt his cheeks heat up as he moved to push it to the ground.

“That’s pretty cool! I finished the star wars series last summer.”

Peter’s eyes snapped up to yours and the friendly smile you were giving him along with the genuine interest in your tone seemed to break something inside him, snapped the band of hesitation that wrapped around his heart. “You did? For the first time?”

“Yeah! I know I’m like super late, but there’s like nine movies!”

Your laughs melded into one as you leaned out your respective windows and began talking about your favorite movie series. Peter was aware that this was unnatural for him. He had been more open to this stranger in the past few minutes than he had to his own Aunt in months and the same guilt from earlier crept up on him. But Peter was having a good time talking to you and he felt his insides turn in excitement when he realized you really had no idea who he was. He had a clean slate with you and he could make any first impression he wanted, well he hoped your first impression of him wasn’t that he was a peeping pervert, but we move, as MJ would say.

You were about to start telling Peter about this new dystopian novel you began reading when you heard a woman call out to him.

“Oh, that’s my Aunt May. She must be home from work. I- I should go say hello.” He explained, a sad look crossing his face that you didn’t quite understand.

You felt your own sadness wash over you, though. You didn’t want to stop talking to Peter either. “Yeah, of course!”

“But we can talk tomorrow right?” Peter asked, his tone laced with uncertainty.

“Oh well, I work double tomorrow… so I probably won’t be home ‘til late.” You said and the way the brown haired boys face visibly fell felt like a punch in the gut and you were scrambling for a reason to make him smile.

“B-but hey! I also get paid tomorrow so if you want, you can come over on saturday and we can have a movie night and we can order a shit ton of take out?”

“Come over to your place?” Peter asked, and he felt himsef involuntarily tense at the idea of leaving his room for the first time in weeks. It was safe in his room. But the pleading look on your face and hopefulness in your tone encouraged him to take the chance.

“I’d love to y/n.” Peter said with a soft smile and you smiled back shyly at him before closing your window and making your way out your room, making sure you were safe in the hall, away from his prying eyes to do a little happy dance.

Peter was unable to wipe the grin off his face as he walked out his room to greet his Aunt.

She heard his feet padding down the hall as she was setting out dinner, “Sorry its not ready yet, Petey, today’s been crazy, but I’ll get started now.” She rushed. Recently, she’s been hoping food’s the key to lift her poor nephews spirits, so each night she’ll either order or make something more fattening, cheesy, and delicious than the last.

“It’s alright May,” Peter let out easily as he turned the counter and placed a kiss on her cheek, “why don’t you let me cook tonight?”

May’s jaw dropped and she blinked a couple times. She could barely get two words out of Peter recently, and they were always either a meak thank you for dinner or an it was good when she asked about his day. She felt her eyes tear up at the slight sliver of her old Petey back.

“O-oh, really, you wanna cook?”

Peter ducked his head down at the ingredients in front of him to avoid looking in her eyes, his heart dropping at the glossiness that overtook them. He truly hadn’t realized how closed off he’d been. “Well, how about we do it together?” He began and the face splitting grin that spread across May’s face was all he needed to know he was taking a step in the right direction.

“G-good idea, honey. Can’t have the house burn down, can we?”

“Hey!”

May laughed and kissed Peter’s head as they began winding through the kitchen, making casual conversation. It was just like the old days, May thought. Before the wave of devastation drowned Peter as he lost a father figure, once again.

“So what did you do today, P? Do you know when Ned get’s back? I’m sure you’re both excited to see each other.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I am. I don’t know when he get’s back actually, but that’s okay-“

“I know you like your peace and quiet, I really do, but I do think it’ll be good for you to get out of the apartment for a little bit, see if Michelle is available. Oh! Or maybe that Lisa, Liz! I liked Liz, see if she’s available-“

“May! Its okay. I don’t need to hang out with Liz Allen,” Peter grumbled, “I- I made a new friend actually.”

May looked over at Peter in confusion since he hadn’t gone out or had anyone over in weeks, that she could remember; and Peter took her silence as an opportunity to continue.

“The neighbor.”

“Mrs. Wozniak?”

“No! Y/n, she lives in the next building over. And my room is right across from hers. We’re gonna hang out on saturday.”

“Oh?” May raised her brows at her nephew and bit back a smile, much to Peter’s chagrin. “Is she pretty?”

“And that’s relevant why?”

“I don’t know!!” May drawled and Peter just rolled his eyes and kept chopping the vegetables in front of him, the blush adorning his cheeks refusing to go down as he thought yes, yes she is.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

You yanked the door open as soon as you heard Peter’s knocks against it. He jumped back a bit, his arm still partially raised from when he knocked and you silently berated yourself for being so eager, but the spreading smile across his face made you feel not so bad.

“Oh, sorry, I was just-“

“It’s alright.” Peter replied with a soft smile, and you let yourself trace the golden flecks in his eyes before he cleared his throat, once again, snapping you out of a daze. You seemed to be in a dreamy state around him alot.

“Can I come in? I brought my Star Wars DVD collection by the way, I know you’ve seen them, but this one has the director's cut which I thought totally changed the course of the first trilogy!” Peter explained, rocking on the balls of his feet in excitement.

You bit your lip at the sight, his cuteness was rubbing off on you. “Yeah, that sounds great, but actually we aren’t gonna be watching in here.” You said, grabbing the bag of Chinese food and snacks and stepping out.

Peter’s face sputtered as you both walked to the stairs. He’d spent all day building up his courage to just go six feet from his building, there was no way he’d be able to go around the city with you for the fear of seeing something that’ll remind him of the avengers or crime.

“Y’alright?” You asked, noticing Peter’s stony silence as you walked down the last flight and made your way to the back gate.

“Yeah, sorry, I guess I’m just nervous. I haven’t really hung out with anyone new in a while, well, with anyone at all really.”

You smiled in sympathy, “I get you, I haven’t either. All my friends are out of town, so I’ve mostly just hung out in my room, too.”

“But you already knew that, don’t ya stalker?”

Peter rolled his eyes and shoved your arm as you laughed, glad you got his nerves out of his system. You unlocked the gate and lef Peter to the back garden.

“Woah..” Peter let out. There was a large white sheet hung up between two trees, and a projector set up on the table behind where a blanket lay, covered in a mess of pillows. The setting sun lit up by strung lightbulbs.

“You like? I figured since we both seemed to be home bodies, we could have the fun of the movie theatre, but here!”

Peter felt his heart swell at your words. You’d only known him for two days, and you already treated him with so much consideration and kindness. “I- I love it, y/n. This is amazing.”

He saw how you tucked your cheek into your shoulder in bashfulness and felt his spirits raise even higher. You were adorable.

“I’m glad you like it. I hope the projector works though, it took me forever to translate the instructions.”

Peter walked over to it and gave it a once over. “It seems fine to me, but I can always look at it if you want.”

“Oh yeah? You good with tech?”

“Good enough to get by. I needed it a lot while working with Mr. Stark” Peter began, forgetting that he wasn’t talking to an old friend.

“You worked with Tony Stark?!?”

“Oh.. oh yeah, only for a little! I was an intern.” He said quietly, beating himself up for even bringing up the topic of Tony. The last thing he wanted to do was cry in front of a pretty girl.

“Wow, that must’ve been amazing. You, you must miss him a lot then, huh?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled lifelessly. “Yeah I do.”

“But no matter, we’re here to have a good time right?”

“Yeah, yeah we are!” You grasped his hand and gave him a sympathetic squeeze -neither of you blind to the sparks that shot from the place your hands met- and got settled on the blanket.

Two and a half moves later, the sun had set and the two of you were sitting in the darkness, the only light coming from the flickering of the projector as the abandoned movie played. You and Peter were sitting cross legged, facing each other as he told you another story about working with the Avengers.

“Yeah, it was so crazy!! We were in this airport and he went from being like two inches tall to two hundred feet, it blew my mind. But it was okay though, because I had this idea-“

“Wait, wait, wait. You were there? Why?” You asked, loving every adventure filled anecdote he told you, but it wasn’t all adding up. For just an intern, he seemed incredibly close to Mr. Stark himself, but then again, you’d only known him for less than a week and you also wanted to go everywhere with him.

Peter worried his lip, thinking about how he could worm his way out of this one. Why would a teenage intern be at the Avengers civil war? He figured he could lie, or even just run away and buy black out curtains. Maybe he could convince Aunt May to switch rooms with him even. But you’d already brought so much light to his life in multiple aspects, and he thought, just maybe, you’d be able to bring light to that aspect of his life too.

“You know what, lemme just show you! Wait here, I’ll be back!”

Peter ran back down, his Chewbacca flash drive in hand, adrenaline running through his veins. He plugged it into your laptop and dug up a folder he hadn’t touched in almost eight months.

“What’s this?” You asked as he sat back down next to you.

“You’ll see.” He said, eyes glued to the screen in front of him.

A Film by Peter Parker, read the title as a compilation of videos featuring Peter, Happy, Aunt May, the Avengers, and Tony projected before you both.

Peter heard you gasp as the camera flashed to the suit, and saw, from the corner of his eye, how your head snapped towards his as he backspringed across the battleground. The film continued and neither of you could tear your eyes from the screen. Peter felt his eyes well up with tears as a scene with him and Tony talking to the camera began and he thought that watching this was a bad idea and he was about to turn around and turn it off when he felt your fingers intertwine with his.

He sucked in a sharp breath at the warmth you brought him and he squeezed back, his brain nearly malfunctioning at the speed in which he tried to memorize the feel of your hand in his. But his senses were overloaded as he picked up on your accelerated heartbeat.

The two of you continued to watch the video, neither moving even when it autostarted from the beginning, and this time you laughed outwardly at the funny parts, and asked him questions about why Happy didn’t seem to like him.

“What did you do to him Peter?”

“Nothing I swear!”

“Likely story.”

And he felt the steel blanket of grief fall off his shoulders. The feeling of intrigue and excitement for going back to life was no longer a small trail buried deep within him, but now a firecracker that ignited his insides and aurated off of him. Things were going to be alright, he was going to make it out this summer with more than just the memories from his bedroom, and he’d make it through whatever else life would throw at him, as long as he had you by his side.

Because you didn’t make his heart beat faster out of fear, you made him feel flustered and full of affection.

And you didn’t hold him roughly, with the intent to harm him; you held him delicately, and he could only wait to be able to hold your heart the same way.

[my-bated-breath]

Research Shows that Zutara Would Have Been the Ideal Friends to Lovers Dynamic

(featured below: a very self-indulgent Zutara post that uses Facts and Evidence to be self-indulgent)

When I joined the ATLA fandom, a common trend I've seen used to discredit Zutara was the belief that upon transitioning from a platonic relationship to a romantic one, Zuko and Katara would immediately become The Worst (TM) for each other. It's quite the stretch, and the Zutara fandom nearly unanimously recognizes that. Still, since the attacks have yet to cease even 15 years after the show’s first release, I'd like to add my two-cents on the subject, along with a reference to actual research that is much harder to dismiss.

The reason why Zutara is framed as a “toxic and unhealthy” relationship is that their romance would be a classic example of the enemies-to-lovers trope, a trope which modern media has not been particularly kind to. However, when executed correctly, enemies-to-lovers can produce a healthy and loving relationship, frequently relying on friendship as an intermediate between the “enemy” and “lover” stages in the most well-executed versions of this trope. Meanwhile, the trope of friends-to-lovers is just as popular as enemies-to-lovers, though the specific dynamic required between two individuals to achieve this transition is not well-known. Recognizing this, Laura K. Guerrero and Paul A. Mongeau, both of whom are involved in relationship-related research as professors at Arizona State University, wrote a research paper on how friendships may transition into romantic relationships.

While “On Becoming ‘More Than Friends: The Transition From Friendship to Romantic Relationship” covers a variety of aspects regarding how friends may approach a budding romantic relationship, this meta will focus on the section titled “The Trajectory from Platonic Friendship to Romantic Relationship,” which describes stages of intimacy that are in common between platonic and romantic relationships.

(I am only using this one source for my meta because as much as I love research and argumentative writing, I can only give myself so much more school work before I break. If you wish to see more sources that corroborate the argument from above, refer to the end of this meta at the “Works Cited.”)

According to Guerrero and Mongeau, “...scholars have argued that intimacy is located in different types of interactions, ranging from sexual activity and physical contact to warm, cozy interactions that can occur between friends, family members, and lovers…” Guerrero and Mongeau then reference a relationship model where the initial stages (i.e. perceiving similarities, achieving rapport, and inducing self-disclosure) reflect platonic/romantic intimacy through communication while the latter stages (i.e. role-taking, achieving interpersonal role fit, and achieving dyadic crystallization) often see both individuals as achieving a higher level of intimacy that involves more self-awareness.

Definitions, because some terminology in this quote is field-specific:

_____

Perception of similarity: (similar in background, values, etc.) which contributes to pair rapport

Pair rapport: produces positive emotional and behavioral responses to the partner, promotes effective communication and instills feelings of self-validation

Self-disclosure: a process of communication by which one person reveals information about themselves to another. The information can be descriptive or evaluative and can include thoughts, feelings, aspirations, goals, failures, successes, fears, and dreams, as well as one's likes, dislikes, and favorites.

Role-taking: ability to understand the partner's perspective and empathize with his/her role in the interaction and the relationship

Role-fit: partners assess the extent of their similarities in personality, needs, and roles

Dyadic crystallization: partners become increasingly involved with each other and committed to the relationship and they form an identity as a committed couple

_____

(Source: Quizlet -- not the most reliable source, I know, but once again field-specific terms tend to be ubiquitous in their definitions, and I doubt that this Quizlet can be that inaccurate)

(Additional note: only the first three definitions will be relevant to this meta, but the other definitions are left in for all of you who want to speculate what the next part of this meta, which may or may not be published the following week, will be about.)

Let’s apply what we just learned back to the real Zuko-Katara relationship we see throughout the show. What attributes of healthy and natural friends-to-lovers dynamics may they check off?

Perceiving similarities:

Zuko and Katara share an astounding number of parallels in background and character throughout the show. Both their mothers had sacrificed their lives to save them, and then there are many deliberate parallels drawn between Zuko and Katara’s confrontations in the Day of Black Sun and The Southern Raiders, respectively. Of course, there are more, but since I do not have much to add to this subject, I’ll say that perceiving these similarities helps contribute to…

Pair rapport:

We see three standout examples of this from the show in which Zuko and Katara “make positive emotional and behavioral responses” towards each other: In the Crossroads of Destiny, the Southern Raiders, and Sozin's Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters.

(1) Crossroads of Destiny. Zuko and Katara bond over the loss of their mothers in the Crystal Catacombs, allowing themselves to truly see the other for the first time as well as for them to speak civilly and intimately (is this self-disclosure I see?) with each other. Of course, their conversation (on-screen or off-screen) is meaningful enough for Katara to offer to use the Spirit Oasis water to heal Zuko’s scar.

(2) The Southern Raiders. The journey Zuko and Katara take for her to achieve closure (which is something Zuko himself knew was necessary to heal and grow) is the catalyst for Katara forgiving Zuko. Though there is no true “rapport” in the scene where Katara forgives him, all other banter/conversations (in the Ember Island Players and the ATLA finale) between Katara and Zuko are reliant on the moment she forgives him.

(3) Sozin's Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters. In the finale, Zuko experiences a moment of uncertainty before just before he faces his uncle -- his uncle who had always been there for him since the days of his banishment, his uncle had loved him unconditionally even when Zuko did not know that such love was possible, his uncle who loved him like his own son, his uncle who he betrayed in the Crystal Catacombs, his uncle who turned away when he was encased in crystal, too disappointed to look him in the eye. He tells this to Katara -- and what does Katara say to Zuko in response?

“Then he'll forgive you. He will.”

The dialogue speaks for itself. The positive emotional response, the open communication, and the (rightful) encouragement Katara provides, all without invalidating Zuko’s self-doubt, demonstrates the epitome of pair rapport. Further elaboration would simply be me gushing over their dynamic.

Self-disclosure:

Self-disclosure involves revealing intimate feelings. We’re revisiting the same three episodes that we covered up above since they all include self-disclosure.

(1) The Crossroads of Destiny. When he reaches out in the Crystal Catacombs, Zuko reveals something to Katara that he has never told anyone before, perhaps something he didn’t even want to admit to himself -- in response to “the Fire Nation took my mother away from me” he says “that's something we have in common.” And to say that out loud, to say it to himself and Katara when for three whole years he’s been trying to convince himself that the Fire Nation is good and that his father loves him -- there are no words to describe it. It’s both awe-inspiring and heartbreaking to see that Zuko and Katara’s shared pain is what allowed them to see each other as more than the “face of the enemy,” and it’s something so poignant that it forms an immediately profound connection between the two.

(2) The Southern Raiders. On their way to the Fire Nation communications tower on Whale Tail Island, Katara tells the story of her mother’s death, a story that has haunted her memories for years, looming over her as a ghost, a wound that festers into fear to grief to anger. This was the moment that divided Katara’s life into the Before and the After, the one that forced her to abandon childhood and to become a mother to her own brother (as implied by Sokka in his conversation with Toph in the Runaway). And yet this is the first time we see her tell someone her story in the show, full and vivid as if it happened yesterday. Because even though she mentioned her mother before to Aang, Haru, and Jet in order to sympathize with them -- it’s just that. Sympathizing. This time she tells Zuko about her mother’s death for her own sake rather than for another’s. And it’s an incredibly intimate moment, one that is made even more fragile, wrenching, and beautiful by Zuko’s response -- “Your mother was a brave woman.”

(3) Sozin's Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters. Throughout the second half of season 3, Zuko shares his love and insecurities regarding Iroh to every member of the GAang.

In the Firebending Masters, he mentions to Aang offhandedly -- and perhaps too offhandedly, as if he didn’t want to believe it himself -- that Iroh, Dragon of the West, received his honorary title for killing the last dragon.

An episode later in part one of the Boiling Rock, Zuko talks about his uncle with near constancy. He brews tea for the GAang and (endearingly) tries retelling “Uncle’s favorite tea joke.” He tells Sokka, “Hey, hold on. Not everyone in my family is like that… I  meant my uncle. He was more of a father to me. And I really let him down.” He (fails at, adorably) giving advice to Sokka when the rescue mission to the Boiling Rock has begun to look helpless, asking himself “what would Uncle say?” before completely floundering away.

Then, in the Ember Island Players, he shares a sweet moment with Toph, bitterly spitting out that

“...for me, [the play] takes all the mistakes I've made in my life, and shoves them back in my face. My uncle, he's always been on my side, even when things were bad. He was there for me, he taught me so much, and how do I repay him? With a knife in his back. It's my greatest regret, and I may never get to redeem myself.”

Toph, in turn, reveals the thoughtful side to her character, the side that is almost always hidden, telling Zuko that “you have redeemed yourself to your uncle. You don't realize it, but you already have.”

And every one of these moments matter, because we see Zuko’s inner conflict (though this inner conflict does not exist to the extent at which it did at the first half of season 3) and its evolution. First, with Aang, he remains skeptical and disillusioned. Second, with Sokka, his longing for Iroh’s love and presence manifests itself in him imitating his uncle as well as he can. Third, with Toph, he finally admits everything he had been afraid of ever since he saw Iroh’s empty prison cell during the eclipse -- that Iroh is disappointed in him. That Iroh hates him. That Iroh will never accept him again.

And for a moment, with Toph’s encouraging response and Zuko’s resulting little smile, it appears as though Zuko’s internal conflict arc is concluded. But we are wrong -- because in the finale of the show, we are given the true climax and resolution to Zuko’s insecurities, fears, and self-loathing. And who is it that he shares this moment with?

It speaks volumes about Zuko and Katara’s relationship that Katara is the one to comfort Zuko in this scene, in that last moment of hesitation right before he steps inside his uncle’s tent, preparing himself to see his uncle as a completely changed person. As a person who now knows humility and unconditional love. And remember -- selecting Katara to be in this scene is a deliberate narrative choice because ATLA was written by a team of producers and writers, and perhaps even if it wasn’t, it becomes a powerful moment in which Zuko’s arc with Iroh reaches its peak.

Simply having Katara there in this scene already has such a great narrative impact, but then the show gives us some of the most intimate dialogue that Zuko, a naturally closed-off person, delivers (although his emotional outbursts may suggest otherwise, Zuko tends to hide most of his internally conflicting feelings to himself. Hence, he is always able to dramatically monologue about his honor, his country, and his throne -- because he’s trying to convince himself to play a part. But that’s another meta for another day).

Let’s begin by comparing Toph and Zuko’s dialogue with Katara and Zuko’s dialogue because both see the other party validating Zuko’s feelings.

(Warning: the following section plunges deep into the realm of speculation and overanalyzing dialogue. Regarding literature or any media, there are countless ways to interpret the source material, and this is simply one way it could be done.)

_____

Ember Island Players Dialogue:

Toph: Geez, everyone's getting so upset about their characters. Even you seem more down than usual, and that's saying something!

Zuko: You don't get it, it's different for you. You get a muscly version of yourself, taking down ten bad guys at once, and making sassy remarks.

Toph: Yeah, that's pretty great!

Zuko: But for me, it takes all the mistakes I've made in my life, and shoves them back in my face. My uncle, he's always been on my side, even when things were bad. He was there for me, he taught me so much, and how do I repay him? With a knife in his back. It's my greatest regret, and I may never get to redeem myself.

_____

Although Toph and Zuko’s dynamic is one of the most innocent and understanding throughout the show, the conversation begins with Toph joking with a negative connotation -- that “even [Zuko seemed] more down than usual, and that’s saying something!” Thus, the conversation opener is not one that allows for Zuko to easily be emotionally vulnerable, and so he responds bitterly and angrily -- “You don’t get it, it’s different for you” and “...and how do I repay him? With a knife in his back.” By stating that their portrayals in the shows were different, Zuko mentally places a wall between himself and Toph, saying that “[Toph doesn’t] get it.” Then, the rhetorical question Zuko asks himself and the shortness with which he answers the question showcases a forceful and biting tone, indicating that he is covering up his inner turmoil with vehemence. This tendency is something we’ve seen Zuko default to before, whenever he had shouted the oft-mocked “I must restore my honor!” lines in response to a few introspective questions Iroh had asked (though once again, that’s another meta for another day). Now, let’s examine the remainder of their conversation.

_____

Ember Island Players Dialogue Continued:

Toph: You have redeemed yourself to your uncle. You don't realize it, but you already have.

Zuko: How do you know?

Toph: Because I once had a long conversation with the guy, and all he would talk about was you.

Zuko: Really?

Toph: Yeah, and it was kind of annoying.

Zuko: Oh, sorry.

_____

Here we see Toph and Zuko’s conversation take a more serious turn as Toph becomes more sincere. Zuko, however, is still full of self-doubt as he is constantly questioning Toph with “how do you know?” and “really” and “oh, sorry.”

(featured up above: Zuko looking dejected and doubtful.)

Still, the conversation ends on a sweet and inspiring note:

_____

Ember Island Players Dialogue Continued:

Toph: But it was also very sweet. All your uncle wanted was for you to find your own path, and see the light. Now you're here with us. He'd be proud.

_____

Hence, though Zuko and Toph’s conversation displays a heartening and hopeful dynamic, Zuko is ultimately still guarded for the majority of their conversation. Now, let’s look at how Katara approaches Zuko in the Sozin’s Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters.

_____

Sozin’s Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters Dialogue:

Katara: Are you okay?

Zuko: No, I'm not okay. My uncle hates me, I know it. He loved and supported me in every way he could, and I still turned against him. How can I even face him?

Katara: Zuko, you're sorry for what you did, right?

Zuko: More sorry than I've been about anything in my entire life.

_____

In direct contrast to the conversation opener with Toph, Katara begins to engage Zuko with an openly concerned question. And even though Katara never disappointed an Iroh-figure in her life in the way Zuko has, Zuko immediately doesn’t close himself off from her, he doesn’t create a wall that prevents him from revealing his deepest fears to her. During this scene, he neither sounds bitter or angry -- he sounds lost, doubtful, and afraid (perhaps even afraid to hope). This shift in tone is blatant in his voice (thanks to Dante Basco’s line delivery) but even with nothing but the written dialogue, we can note the difference in which he describes his turmoil to Toph and as compared to Katara:

With Toph: “But for me, it takes all the mistakes I've made in my life, and shoves them back in my face. My uncle, he's always been on my side, even when things were bad. He was there for me, he taught me so much, and how do I repay him? With a knife in his back. It's my greatest regret, and I may never get to redeem myself.”

With Katara: “No, I'm not okay. My uncle hates me, I know it. He loved and supported me in every way he could, and I still turned against him. How can I even face him?”

With Katara, the underlying bitterness from his conversation with Toph is toned down to the point of nonexistence, though a part of it is still there. With Toph, Zuko says, “it takes all the mistakes I’ve made in my life, and shoves them back in my face,” which is a rather incensed statement. Meanwhile, by saying, “no, I'm not okay. My uncle hates me, I know it,” Zuko directly addresses his self-loathing without the use of language such as “shoves them back in my face,” the latter of which is reminiscent of how individuals may unthinkingly reveal information in a sudden emotional outburst.

Then, when Katara asks him if he’s sorry for what he did, the words come easily to Zuko, the most easily he admits to his own mistakes after three years of not admitting anything truthful to himself: “More sorry than I've been about anything in my entire life.”

And Katara, just as Toph did, says with the utmost confidence and sincerity, “Then he'll forgive you. He will.”

This moment of affirmation that runs parallel between both dialogues is where Zuko’s responses begin to diverge. Whereas Zuko reacts to Toph with disbelief and doubt, this is how he reacts once he hears Katara’s words:

He takes Katara’s words to heart and accepts them. Because out of all the GAang, Katara is the one who knows the most about forgiving him, who most keenly feels the change he underwent since his betrayal in the catacombs. And so he stands, still nervous but no longer afraid, facing forward towards the future instead of back into his past.

Iroh and Zuko’s relationship is one of the most important ones throughout the entire show, so to see Katara play a pivotal role in a critical point in their dynamic shows just how important Katara’s character is to Zuko (and vice versa, though in here I do touch upon the former in more detail).

Although my analysis on the self-disclosure between Zuko and Katara may have run away from me a bit (due to my love for far-too-in-depth critical analysis), these all show an undeniable bond between Zuko and Katara, displaying a profound friendship rooted in narrative parallels, mutual understanding, and interwoven character arcs. Ultimately, their fulfillment of perceived similarities, pair rapport, and (the one I rambled most on) self-disclosure is what establishes Zuko and Katara as not just a strong platonic bond -- but one that has the potential to transition into a romantic one.

Thus concludes my essay on Zutara’s friendship and its connection with the initial stages of intimacy that are shared between both platonic and romantic bonds. After all that analysis, it would be remiss to simply dismiss the Zutara dynamic as one that would instantly become toxic should they pursue a romantic relationship.

That being said, I will explore the possibility of a romantic relationship between Zuko and Katara and how this connects to the latter stages of intimacy -- role-taking, interpersonal role fit, and dyadic crystallization -- in part 2 of this meta-analysis. Click on the link if you want to read it!

Part 2

Works Cited

(only partially in MLA 8 format because I want to live a little)

Close Relationships: A Sourcebook. By Clyde A. Hendrick & Susan S. Hendrick. Link

“Nonverbal behavior in intimate interactions and intimate relationships.” By P.A Andersen, Laura K. Guerrero, & Susanne M. Jones. Link

“On Becoming ‘More Than Friends’: The Transition From Friendship to Romantic Relationship.” By Laura K. Guerrero & Paul A. Mongeau. Link

The Psychology of Intimacy (The Guilford Series on Personal Relationships). By Karen J. Prager. Link

(If you check some of these links, you may note a few of these sources have been cited quite a few times. With just a bit more research, it appears possible to find a plethora of other sources to corroborate the theory of shared platonic-romantic intimacies.)

Thank you all for reading!

[timelordthirteen]

Desperate Souls 6/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit

Summary: A broke and heartbroken Belle French comes to an agreement with Mr. Gold to do a little modeling, just for him, in exchange for the money she desperately needs, but it isn’t long before they both realize they’ve made a deal they didn’t understand. Based on this prompt.

Chapter Summary: Another evening, another dinner, but this time Belle surprises Gold and herself.

Notes: IT HAS BEEN 84 YEARS. I am so sorry. Basically March and April were catastrophes, mostly of a work variety. A lot of things happened, I got super burned out, and I thought a lot about quitting my job. BUT... things are looking up significantly, and the muse is back. This is what Belle is wearing. ;)

[AO3]

Thursday evening, Belle arrived at ten minutes to six.

Gold seemed surprised when he opened the door, and she wondered if the events of the previous day, including their little tiff in his shop, had made him think she wasn’t coming for dinner. He was wearing a deep purple shirt, striped with a darker shade, and a plain tie in yet another purple tone. The look was topped off with a set of gold sleeve garters just above his elbows.

He’d held the door, taken her coat with little more than the usual Miss French, and guided her into the dining room, where he presented her with a plate of lamb chops and sizzled garlic, dressed with a mint and rosemary, chimichurri style sauce. To the side was a mix of roasted carrots and parsnips, sliced and blistered under the broiler, and tossed in the drippings from the lamb. It smelled amazing, and though she had initially thought the mint sauce would be too bold and overpowering, it melded perfectly with the earthy flavor of the lamb and vegetables. It was as if Gold was overtly trying to impress her with his prowess in the kitchen.

“Do you - like lamb?”

Belle looked up from her plate and blinked at him. “Um, yeah, yeah it’s good. The sauce especially.”

He nodded and stabbed his fork into the center of a carrot. “Good.”

She picked up her wine and took a long swallow as he focused back on his food. Perhaps she had made a mistake in coming over early and assuming that what had happened yesterday wasn’t going to affect anything. The silence lingered, broken awkwardly by the occasional scrape of silverware, and despite the food being delicious, she had barely eaten anything. Her stomach felt even more hollow than the first time she’d come over, and all she wanted was for the whole thing to be over so she could go home and ruminate on the mess her father was in.

She hadn’t quite sorted out what the hell to do about that situation, and though she didn’t know for sure where the money had gone, she worried that Moe had slipped back into the old, bad habits he had developed in the years after her mother died. They had been part of the reason for their move from California all the way to Maine. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t be pulled into that again, that she wouldn’t let his vices upend her life.

The abrupt sound of a fork clattering against a plate shook her from her rumination. She looked up to find Gold staring across the table at her, his silverware resting against the china, and his hands folded and held up in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply.

Belle’s head tilted slightly, and he sighed.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t let you know about the - situation - with your father.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I put the blame on you instead of where it should be, which is squarely on my father. The terms of his loan are between you and him, and probably confidential anyway.”

Gold lowered his hands and shifted in his seat. “Yes, but I still could have said something, perhaps hinted, or suggested that you speak to him about the loan for the flowers. Instead -”

It was her turn to sigh. “No, it’s fine, really I -” He held up a hand, and she stopped, her fingers twisting her napkin against her thigh.

“Let me finish,” he said softly. “My business with Moe, and my arrangement with you, are completely separate things as far as I’m concerned. One does not have any bearing on the other. I understand that isn’t the case for you, and that your father’s financial situation has possibly made yours worse.”

“Yeah...” She looked away, turning her gaze towards the living room doorway which had a view through to the front window. The porch lights illuminated the light snow that had started falling shortly after she arrived.

“As for your father not being truthful with you...” He trailed off and exhaled heavily.

She let out a humorless, scoffing laugh and glanced at Gold’s face before turning her gaze to her barely eaten meal. “It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last, sadly.”

He gave her a look that was as much a smile as it was a grimace. “It’s deplorable, and I’m sorry for that as well.”

Belle shook her head again. “It’s not your fault, but thank you. I should probably apologize as well.”

“What for?” He frowned and reached for his wine glass.

“For marching into your shop and yelling at you.”

He waved a hand and gave her a half smile before he sipped at his drink. “Consider it forgotten.”

She relaxed at his words, and the awkward tension that had been present since he had first opened the door faded as they went back to their meal and companionable small talk. She hadn’t expected him to apologize. He was known to do so rarely even when there might be blame to lay at his door, but in this case there was none at all, and yet he had seemed compelled to clear the air. To her surprise, he appeared genuinely contrite, and his concern for her situation with her father felt quite sincere.

Gold frowned over his glass as he watched Belle make a little grouping of carrots at one side of her plate. He was glad that they had resolved things between them, but not knowing what Moe French was doing with the money he’d borrowed was concerning. He presumed Belle still didn’t know either, or if she did that it was bad enough she would never say so. At this point, Gold would consider it a miracle if Moe managed to pay him back by the deadline he’d set. Given her current financial situation, helping to pay her father’s debt as well would only make things worse for the both of them.

He was mulling over how to handle that particular situation, when he noticed Belle was watching him. “Finished?”

She smiled and glanced down at her empty plate. “Yes, and it was amazing and delicious, as usual.”

He chuckled, secretly pleased by not only her praise, but also by her choice of words. As usual. There was something shared and familiar in that which he liked far more than he should.

Abruptly, Gold pushed back from the table, and Belle watched as he stood and began to clear the dishes. When he reached across for hers as well, she tried to catch his gaze, but he seemed to be focused on his task.

She stood as well, and eased her way towards the doorway to the living room, intending to take the long way around to the foyer and the small half bath where embarrassment inevitably awaited her. “I’ll um, just go and - and change.”

At that he paused, plates stacked, silverware crossed over the top. His shoulders moved slightly as he let out a breath, and then gave her a brief nod. It was the first time she’d actually said it out loud. Before it had always been the unspoken next step; he cleaned up from dinner, and she went to put on something scandalous. It was the thing they both knew was coming, yet seemed content to leave in a state of plausible deniability.

The closed door of the powder room loomed, and the flutters in her stomach increased with every step, until she almost stumbled through it. A faint gasp slipped out when she flipped the lights on and saw what Gold had left out for her to wear. She pushed the door closed with her weight as she leaned back against it, her eyes trailing over the sheer lace.

This piece happened to be one of her favorites; a lacy, flirty babydoll nightie in a deep purple with a matching panty. Belle took a breath and licked her lips, steeling her nerves as she shrugged off her cardigan and unbuttoned her blouse. A few minutes later, she was tugging the flimsiest pair of purple underwear up her legs, adjusting the thin elastic over her hips before regarding herself in the mirror.

The front of the garment was low, covering the majority of her breasts with a soft lace pattern, but leaving ample cleavage exposed all the way down to the ribbon where the seams met. There was no underwire, but the elastic that went around her chest combined with the cut of the fabric had a slight lifting effect, which in another circumstance might have pleased her, but in this felt like she was offering herself for something. The fabric was even more see-through now that she had it on, and she was thankful that the lighting in the study was soft and dark.

The lower half of the nightie overlapped in the front, and fell in soft pleats above a wide strip of lace near the bottom. The overall effect made it slightly less sheer, but still transparent enough to reveal where the panties did and didn’t cover her. She turned around and looked over her shoulder to see that the hem ended just passed her backside, and swallowed hard.

Facing the mirror again, she braced on the wall and wiggled her feet back into her strappy black heels. She had decided when she was changing clothes after work that she was tired of walking around in bare feet in Gold’s house, and black heels went with nearly everything.

As she was about to exit the powder room, a thought occurred to her. It seemed almost certain now that Gold was working his way towards more and more revealing items, pushing her limits one week at a time. Perhaps she could push back.

Belle smiled to herself as her eyes perused the floor to ceiling bookshelves. Towards the top she could see wide, hefty tomes that reminded her of the encyclopedias she’d grown up with in school, before the days of Wikipedia and Google. Down at a more reachable level, there was a row of well worn volumes, and she touched the spines as her gaze took them in. He had several limited and first editions the likes of which she’d only had access to because she’d worked in libraries, yet here they were one shelf above more contemporary titles. He seemed to have everything from murder mysteries to classic poetry, and her smile grew as her fingers brushed over every published Bronte sister.

Shifting to her right, she came to stand next to the case with the kintsugi tea set, and a strange, warm feeling washed over her as she gave it a fond glance. Above the case however, was something quite unexpected. She’d initially thought it was an art piece, but now that she was truly looking and taking it in, it appeared to be a page from a manuscript in a gothic style lettering. Her eyes scanned the words, going wide as she realized what she was looking at. The title, the bold capital letter surrounded by scripted decoration, the odd, 17th century English spellings...

“I was wondering how long it would take you to notice it.”

Gold’s voice startled her, and she gaped at him for a long moment before her eyes drifted back to the framed page. “Is that from -?”

“From a 1611 King James version of the Bible?” he finished for her, sauntering into the room with a bemused smirk.

Belle blinked. “Yes?”

He flashed his teeth and came to stand beside her, his cane planted in front of him and his hands folded calmly over the handle. “Yes.”

His voice was soft and almost reverent as he looked up, and she gave him a brief glance before skimming the words on the page, her mind automatically adjusting to the strange letters as she read.

“The Apocrypha?” she asked.

Gold smiled crookedly. “Yes, again. I’m surprised you recognized it, considering it’s not the the title page.”

She shrugged, and looked at him, her lips curving. “I have an affinity for the texts that were removed from the Bible. And other religious books too. I always wanted to know what the powers that be didn’t want people to know.”

Her gaze moved back to the page, while his stayed fixed on her, watching the quirk of her lips as she read the words again.

“You were the kid that read all the banned books, weren’t you,” he said, finally.

Belle bit her lip and grinned at him. “I considered it a matter of pride to read all of them as soon as I learned there was such a thing. It’s why I became a librarian. I wanted to make sure that people could always find them if they wanted to.” She looked up, nodded her head towards the Bible page. “There’s always a reason a book ends up on that list, something that makes the man say you shouldn’t read it, and most of the time it’s precisely the reason you should.”

After a pause, she met his eyes and shrugged. “You disagree?”

He shook his head slowly, somehow managing a reply through the dazed fog in his head. “No, no. Quite the opposite.”

He had meant to tease her, and to distract himself from looking too long at what she was wearing, but her response was so earnest, and so well matched to his own thoughts on the matter, that he could do nothing except hold her in even more esteem than he already did. It was another sign that his plan was failing miserably, and yet he refused to be the one to end their deal. He was certain that there would come a point where her sensibilities would get the better of her, pushing her to refuse the silent request hanging in the powder room, and that, combined with whatever disaster was brewing with her father, would be the end of it. He need only be patient.

She looked away and shifted from one foot to the other, temporarily relieving the pressure on her toes. Her shoes were starting to pinch, but the strange, post-dinner conversations she kept having with Gold gave an air of comfortable intimacy to the moment that she didn’t want to dispel. He seemed as surprised by her answers as she was by all the books and objects he’d collected. The pawn shop had always been an eclectic mix of things, which she’d attributed to the nature of the business, but she now suspected it was entirely due to the eclectic inclinations of its owner. Inclinations which only made her want to know more about each one of his possessions, and Gold too, if she was honest.

Abruptly, Belle turned, blowing out a quiet breath as she crossed to the bar next to the fireplace. Behind her, she heard the thump of Gold’s cane, and looked back at him with as much of a smile as she could manage through her nerves.

“Why don’t you sit down,” she said, “and I’ll get your drink.”

Gold blinked at her, his head tilting slightly, before he nodded, and by the time she was done filling the glass with scotch, he was seated in his usual place. She took her time replacing the bottle on the shelf, and then pivoted slowly on her heel, smirking inwardly as she walked towards him.

He was noticeably off kilter, if his wide eyes and white knuckle grip on the arm of the chair was anything to go by, and she decided at the last second to push the envelope. She came close to the right arm of the chair, a hair’s breadth from his hand, and leaned forward ever so slightly to set the glass down on the side table. It was an unnecessary motion that served only to give him a full look at her breasts, but the way his lips parted, and the faint intake of air, sent a tingle down her spine. She returned to her usual spot by the end of the ottoman, and turned around all the way, once, before facing him again and letting him look.

Gold had no idea what was happening. His head felt almost dizzy, and he was vaguely aware that he’d lost control of the evening. She had been so close only a moment ago, her bare thigh a whisper from his fingers, her chest filling his vision for too brief a time. The glow of the fire had illuminated her as she turned and moved to stand by the ottoman, her silhouette leaving nothing to the imagination through the sheer fabric.

She stood still as he openly looked her up and down, and then, without a word or gesture from him, she turned slowly for a second time. He could feel his body react as the hem danced against her backside, and he reached for the glass of scotch, taking a quick sip to calm himself.

Belle found herself oddly amused as she watched Gold take a second gulp of his drink. She’d wrested back a little bit of control, and it had clearly surprised him even more than she’d intended. After a few seconds, he sent the glass aside, and she felt the weight of his gaze settle on her once more. It wasn't lecherous or discomfiting, as she thought it might feel were it anyone else. Instead it made her feel - warm.

“Thank you, Miss French.”

She gave him a small smile, and left to change, but something was different, she was different. She had put Mr. Gold on his back foot, something which few, if any, in Storybrooke could claim. The bathroom door closed, and she kicked off her heels, giving her feet some much needed relief on her way to leaning over the sink. She let out a slow breath and looked up, meeting her own gaze in the mirror and shaking her head.

The way he had looked at her, both when she was going on about banned books, and when she was modeling for him, gave her an unexpected rush. It was - intoxicating - and she was surprised to discover that she liked it. There was something powerful about what she’d done, owning the moment, and leaving no room for the usual embarrassment or awkwardness. A smile crept over her face as she remembered leaning towards him and the sensation that had come over her.

She shivered and rubbed her arms as she straightened, then set about changing back into her clothes. The babydoll was left on the same hanger on which she’d found it, panties included, which felt just a little bit dirty and wrong. Before she stepped back into the hallway, she looked back at it, wondering if she should take it with her or not. So far she’d chosen to leave each item behind, not wanting to take home something that had made her feel so uncomfortable to wear. She didn’t dwell on what he might do with them afterwards, but this piece, and this night were so different that she was almost sad to be leaving it.

Gold was waiting for her by the front door, holding a plastic container. She frowned and then realized it was leftovers from dinner.

“You didn’t need to,” she said, but he only shrugged in response as he handed it over.

The prospect of a second helping of a delicious meal made her smile, but it faded quickly when the yellow envelope came into view. He held that out for her as well, a simple, nondescript thing, but bulging a bit to one side where the money was tucked. It had dulled her good mood with the reminder of what their deal was all about. Still, she managed to thank him, awkwardly, and he bid her good night.

He waited by the door until she was out of sight, swallowed up by the late winter shadows, and then made his way to the powder room. Sighing, he reached for the hanger, and the lingerie that she had once again discarded. It wasn’t part of the deal in any way, but his assumption that she would want the items back, was obviously wrong. She probably saw them as even more tainted than when the fiancé she'd bought them for left her flat broke.

Upstairs, Gold made his way down the long hall to his bedroom, feeling the telltale ache in his bad leg from too many hours on his feet. Moving around the kitchen to make a rather complex dinner had been the last thing he’d needed to do after standing most of the day at the shop, rearranging a couple of the display cases, but it was worth it. Belle had enjoyed the meal, and they had cleared the air between them, at least somewhat.

He stepped into the walk-in closet, passing the neat row of suit jackets and trousers, and the angled shelves of polished dress shoes, to a short hanging area at the back wall. The hook of the hanger made a light clank as it went over the bar, and he sighed. The purple nightie swayed for a few seconds before the fabric stilled, hanging next to the two other items abandoned by Miss French.

Hesitantly, he reached out and touched the black chemise from her first visit, drawing the silk between his fingertips. Swallowing hard, his hand brushed the softness of the pink nightie, up and down with the back of his hand from hem to the edge of the lacy cups and back again. There was another pause before he slipped his hand under the sheer purple fabric from this evening, seeing for himself how transparent it truly was, and recalling once more the shape of her in the firelight. It was still slightly warm, and he sucked in a breath, catching a hint of her lingering scent.

His eyes closed as he inhaled again, and though there was no need for a cold shower tonight, he had begun to consider the fact that he may have made a deal he didn’t understand.

[readyplayerhobi]

A Universe To You

; Soulmate!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, smut

; Warnings: Mentions of an accident and injury resulting from it, discussions of poverty, minor breakdown, oral sex (receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex

; Word Count: 41k

; Synopsis: Life for you has always been dull and grey; not only because you grew up on the most over-populated and polluted planet in the galaxy but because you’re colourblind. You’re convinced it’s because you have a soulmate out there, but soulmates are a forgotten concept now that humanity has spread across the stars. What happens then, when you finally escape Earth and discover colour with the touch of a man on a planet in which soulmates are just a tale of myth?

; A/N: Hi, yes. I’m sorry this is so long lol I half proof-read it but...it’s just so long and I’m so done with it haha. Sorry if it’s bad ;-; please reblog it (if you’re on desktop, it’ll kill your phone) and please leave me comments, asks or reviews! I’m convinced this isn’t actually all that great, my first soulmate attempt :/

-

The familiar roar of a star engine rattles through the ramshackle apartment you’d grown up in, the noise outrageously loud and yet no one in the cramped space pays any notice. It’s the price of living next to the Busan Spaceport unfortunately. The rent is astonishingly cheap, relative to how much anything costs in the 32nd century, but that’s only because it came with the downside of pollution.

All kinds of pollution. Noise pollution from the roars of starships and starfreighters as they fired up their engines, their fusion cores pushing them high into the sky and past the atmosphere limit where they would then jump into hyperspace, heading for whatever planet was next on their list.

Light pollution, from the blinding neon of the signage that littered the area surrounding the dirty port. Signs that screamed everything under the sun was for sale here in Busan, which it was. From entertainment screens to the latest in clothing to prostitutes and cosmetic surgery, everything was for sale here on Earth.

Most of it was supposed to be regulated, and a large portion of it was supposed to be illegal. But Earth had stopped caring about laws a long time ago. Probably five centuries at least. A few billion people ago. Maybe back when you could actually see the sky without it being consumed with the constant smog of pollution from the factories that belched smoke and other contaminants into the air.

Ironically enough, the star engines that were in the various ships, liners, freighters and more were actually incredibly environmentally friendly. They made a lot of noise, but they were relatively clean compared to what Earth produced. 

That was probably because other planet’s actually gave a fuck about their environments. You’d heard that there were whole planets out there that had developed entirely clean technology. Neutral carbon, nothing toxic or deadly going into their atmospheres, nothing choking their plant life or killing off their living species.

It was hard for you to imagine really. You’d grown up here in Busan, the second largest city in Old Korea. Centuries upon centuries ago, Busan had been a hub of freight for the old world and it’s old technologies. Actual ships that had travelled upon the oceans had arrived and departed from the now gone port.

That old method of transport had taken weeks to get anything anywhere, or so the e-book’s said. You could believe it, even though you’d never even heard of anyone going on a boat or a marine ship. People didn’t do that anymore. Not since the oceans had turned toxic from the pollution centuries ago.

Any fish or seafood that was for sale on Earth was either processed, by which it meant that it didn’t contain any actual seafood and instead was just made up of various fake food that had been manufactured to taste vaguely like what it was intended to be, or was shipped in from off-planet. 

Only the rich could afford to eat seafood anymore. Those who lived near inland lakes that hadn’t been overfished in the years after the seas died could also afford to eat fish. It was a luxury now, more rare than diamonds had been in the 21st century.

The idea of a small gemstone being worth a lot of money was laughable now. They’d discovered a whole asteroid made of diamond four centuries ago and had been mining it ever since. Diamonds were as rare as mice in today’s world. Fish on the other hand? Now that was rare.

Despite the overpopulation of Earth and the environmental devastation that had occured, people still sought what little comforts they could. Which meant that even the poorest tried to stay away from living around the spaceports of each city. It meant the apartments were cheap, but you’d grown up listening to the scream of engines and experiencing the building shake subtly every time one took off or landed.

In a bizarre way, it was almost helpful. You could sleep through anything now. But on the downside, it was a visible sign of the poverty your family lived in. One of the few ways to earn near enough guaranteed money was to be able to get onto one of the United Nations of Earth benefits programmes. It was almost a badge of honour for some people, as it meant a near enough constant steady stream of income that could be used to pay rent, buy food or simply live.

Some people abused it, just like people had abused governmental benefits throughout the history of Earth. But most people desperately needed it.

Earth had lots of people. It did not have lots of jobs to match. 

The only real job available on Earth now were factory jobs, building the items and products that the rest of the civilised galaxy bought for cheap. Someone in the early years of the 2nd millennium might have thought that Earth would be given some grand status amongst planets in whatever future space exploration they did.

It was the birthplace of humanity after all.

They would be wrong.

Your home planet was where products and items were built cheaply, relying on the overwhelming number of factories and warehouses that grew like weeds amongst the cities and taking advantage of the over abundant population. With a population of twenty billion people living in squalid cities and towns that were millennia old, creaking with age and underfunded to cope with all those who lived in them, there were plenty of people desperate for a job.

Which meant you didn’t need to pay much to get something. Most factories underpaid their workers because they always knew they could get more. There were no such things as trade unions anymore. People needed work too much to care about things like workers rights. Anyone who got too vocal simply lost their job.

Your parents had been able to gain governmental benefits because of your dad. He’d been a part of the United Nations Navy, which meant the navy in space, obviously. His career had been cut short when his battle cruiser had been destroyed in an attack from terrorists fifteen years ago, ending up back at home while he recovered from losing his legs.

As a result, he’d retired from the navy and been given a military pension, which was incredibly hard to get, along with disability benefits due to him being injured so badly in service to the government. It made him a rarity, and should have meant that in conjunction with your mom’s three jobs as a cleaner that your family would be able to live somewhere a little nicer.

Nicer being a relative time on Earth of course.

But they’d chosen the worst place because it was the cheapest, because of you. Because they’d been informed by your daycare centre that you were showing surprising promise in education. To the degree that they suggested possibly trying to get you sent to a private school that offered a better education than the public schools.

So they had. And they’d succeeded. All the money they saved from skimping on food and rent went to paying your education fees, buying your uniform and school supplies. You took the skybus to class every day and came home the same way, trying to limit your burden on your family.

Scholarships and bursaries were hard earned by you throughout school and you studied hard to make sure that your parents sacrifices weren’t in vain. They had dreams for you, hopes. Hopes that other people on this shithole of a planet had long given up. They wanted you to escape here, to escape the constant spiral of poverty, overpopulation, pollution and more.

To live a life without worrying every day.

Not that poverty and stuff wasn’t an issue on other planets too, but it was far less of an issue than here. The poorest planet in the galaxy was still richer than the citizens of Earth. Whether in terms of real money or just overall living conditions.

You wanted that for yourself too. So desperately. So badly. You wanted to look up at the sky on a night and have the bright lights be twinkling stars that had probably died millions of years ago instead of simply just being the lights of star engines as they powered away. To look at an ocean that wasn’t filled with sludge and pollution and more.

Resting your head against the double paned window, you sighed softly and watched yet another starfreighter rumble it’s way out of the port. It was big, astonishingly big, and extremely hulky. Despite that, it was still sleek and refined, allowing it to cut through the air and atmosphere with ease as it groaned its way further into the sky.

You knew that calling it a starfreighter was wrong in reality. The actual starfreighter’s never came down to the planet itself. They couldn’t; they were too big. What left the depot here planetside was basically a mini freighter, trekking containers and more up to the giant ships that were in orbit until it was full. Those ships physically couldn’t try to land on a planet, they were too big and unwieldy and would burn up in the atmosphere.

It was the same with large war ships and such. You couldn’t even imagine the size of what was out in space, not when what went up there was big enough to big a tower block like yours shudder and shake. 

You wanted to though. Oh, the ache to see the galaxy and more than what life had handed you was so strong. Maybe it was your parents fault for instilling in you the desire and need to achieve more than what the society you’d grown up in expected from you.

“Have you heard yet?” The gentle sound of your mom’s voice distracts you from your thoughts, causing you to look over at her with a slight smile. She looks tired, and you realise with a pang that she looks old. You knew that other planets had managed to achieve astonishing life averages, with life extending sciences causing the average age of a woman in the galaxy to now be 123.

On Earth it was 64. 

It made you want to cry sometimes when you looked at your parents, at how exhausted they seemed. How at 50 they were already approaching what was viewed as the twilight years here. It wasn’t fair. They worked so hard, working themselves to the bone for you and you knew that even if everything went well, they still probably wouldn’t see their 70th birthday.

Her cleaning uniform was stained and dirty as usual but you could see the hope in her eyes. Shaking your head, you reached out and pulled her into a tight hug before sighing softly.

“Not yet mom. But it’s supposed to be today. I’m just...thinking I guess.” Pausing, you shift until you’re resting back against the aged synthetic fibre couch that had come with the shoddy apartment. Water stains do the ceiling while the beige carpet has been worn threadbare over the decades. A slight odour of garbage emanated from the attached kitchen, probably coming up from the sink or something.

These buildings were old and no one cared enough to fix them properly. The one plus side of it was that a broken elevator meant that you’d always maintained a certain level of fitness by having to climb fifteen flights of stairs. A downside was that it relegated your dad to work that could only be done from home.

“What if I didn’t get in? Or if I did but they want me to pay tuition and stuff? Will the government cover that for me? I don’t know.” Playing with the loose thread of your pants, you bite your lip in desperation as uncertainty washes over you.

You’re waiting for the notification to inform you of whether or not you passed the university entrance exams. They were a galaxy wide set of exams, the exact same that every planet had to take at what was considered to be relatively the same time. It was standardised to ensure that universities from all planets could assess candidates equally.

The only difference was that the exams were each translated into the relevant language of wherever the student lived. 

But it didn’t really matter if you passed the exams or not. Each student was instructed to apply for ten universities from the list of all available universities in the galaxy. It was an astonishingly large list that was ranked in various ways; from best value to the best teaching to the best student life and so forth.

Unsurprisingly, Earth universities ranked lowest in every score. They were the universities that only other Earthen students attended, pumping out people with just enough education to become managers in factories or whatever small businesses managed to prosper here. Most of the time though, they produced teachers and medical staff.

You knew many people in your class had signed up to the military. The UN military paid for four years of tuition at the best military university on Earth, which was actually the only university ranked anywhere good. All it required in return was thirty years of service, minimum. 

Your dad had refused point blank to let you do that, calling it a con. They allowed people to attend university and attain degrees, but they then stagnated in the military for decades on end. And the UN had a terrible habit of extending out service beyond the mandated years until people found that they were retiring. The only real benefit, he often said sarcastically, is that military staff were one of the few people on Earth who actually lived longer than everyone else.

Choosing universities has been stressful for you. You desperately wanted to teach, to educate and enrich the minds of a younger generation and give them the hope that your own parents had instilled in you. Your high levels of intellect had meant that you had been the top of your class every time in all levels of school and you’d studied your ass off after hours to gain extra qualifications and grades.

The standard education system taught maths, physics, biology, chemistry, history, Standard Language, physical education and literature. Literature and history were the only subjects that deviated in terms of topics and those exams were specific to the planets. Most also had an extra subject in whatever language was native to their planet with Standard being taught simply because it was the galaxy wide language that everyone spoke to communicate.

You’d gone further though, desperate to make yourself stand out to universities. No matter how good your grades were on the tests, universities were still allowed to pick and choose who they wanted to attend. Those from better off planets often got the places and those whose parents could afford to encourage universities to look twice found themselves prospering too.

As a student from Earth, the odds were stacked unbelievably against you. The education system just wasn’t as good here, the students couldn’t afford to even leave the planet, never mind pay the fees that an off planet university would require and there was the awful stigma that Earth maintained.

Most students who managed to get a place in university off world had a ridiculously large set of subsidies, scholarships, bursaries and grants that paid for their further education. None of them ever came back to Earth.

You’d studied harder and more. Your grades included not only the basics, but Korean Language, English Language, Spanish Language, advanced maths, astrogeology and astrobiology. They probably wouldn’t be useful for an education degree, but you’d loved them and you’d wanted to stand out from the rest.

Now you were just waiting...hoping desperately that one of the ten universities you’d picked would want you.

“You’ll be fine sweetheart. I’ve raised you for eighteen years now and I know the girl that you’ve always been. Strong, stubborn and determined,” She smiled softly, running her well worn fingers over your cheek. “You’re going to go out there, to the stars and beyond. You’re going to live the life we’ve dreamt for you, the life that your ancestors would have never thought possible. You’re going to be something.”

Eyes tearing up, you take in the deep sincerity and belief that she holds in her voice and face. She believes that you’ll do it, that you’ll make it despite everything that’s stacked against you. It makes you sit a little straighter, shoulders pushing back as you acknowledge what your parents have sacrificed and how far they’ve gotten you.

You have to believe that it was all worth it.

“I can save and move you both out to wherever I go.” You tease lightly, trying to cheer up the mood before poking lightly at her side. She gives a soft laugh and hugs you back, embrace a little tighter and longer than you’d expected.

“I’d like that. And maybe you’ll finally get to see the beauty that the galaxy holds. Maybe you’ll finally see colour.” Her words are gentle and soft, her touch equally as light but you can see the hope once more in her eyes. If there’s one thing that’s always made your mom believe that you were destined for more...it was the fact that you were colourblind.

Most people who knew this about you just thought it was some weird genetic quirk. It was well known that men were mostly colourblind, but not usually to the extent that you were. Your entire world was monochromatic...greyscale at the very best. Part of you didn’t mind, because it meant that you didn’t notice just how bad the polluted landscape of Earth was.

But part of you knew that you were missing out on so much. 

Your mom believed it was a sign when you were younger, alongside your intellect. A sign that you were going to leave Earth. She was a little superstitious, but this was one aspect that you were willing to go along with her.

Because your mom still believed in the theory of soulmates. 

According to the history books, soulmates had been a regular occurrence in pre-spaceflight days. Two people whom fate had determined would be the perfect companions. It had been almost a badge of honour back then, centuries upon centuries ago. People had been desperate to find the one person who would love and accept them as they are with no qualms, no worries and no stress.

The person who fits them best.

There had been so many ways of finding out who your soulmate was back then. From tattoos appearing simultaneously somewhere on the body at the age of eighteen to people born with tattoos, seeking out those who had the same. Or the people who gained a tattoo when they met their soulmate, the painful occurrence signifying that their world had just changed.

Some had the first words they would ever hear their soulmate speak written on them, while others didn’t see colour until their other half was near. Some required to be touched to see colour. 

And those were just the most popular soulmarks as they had been called.

There were ancient stories of other, more rare methods. One in which a soulmate could draw on their wrist and it would appear on the other wrist as well along with so many others. They were all magical and defied belief, which is why they were decreed a sham by most modern day scientists.

No one could figure out how those remarkable events had occurred, and no one had experienced anything like those rare events in the last few centuries. People born with tattoos or who suddenly gained them thought they were strange, but most didn’t bother trying to find their soulmate because most didn’t even really know the stories anymore.

Finding your soulmate on Earth had been hard back then, finding your soulmate now that humanity had spread itself across the galaxy was nigh impossible. Most other planets had apparently forgotten all about soulmates, the tales simply one of the myths that were spoken about much in the same way that the ancient stories of old Earth gods and goddesses were.

Those born and raised on Earth were more likely to believe though. It was a part of your planet's culture and history, strong and proud. One of the few parts people were proud of. You’d even heard of people actually finding their soulmates, living happily even in the poor environment they lived in.

Your mom was convinced that your color blindness was a soulmark, and that your soulmate was waiting for you out there. She refused to acknowledge that they could be here, on Earth. No, to her it was a sign. A sign that you would venture far beyond and find happiness she couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

And she believed so strongly, that you did too. You hoped desperately that you would be able to leave this planet and that one day, you would see the bright and vibrant colours that brought the galaxy to life. That you would meet someone who made your heart sing and your soul vibrate with joy.

Those in your class had laughed at you for the very notion of it, thinking you were being an idiot and setting yourself up for a fail. You just had a medical condition or something, that was all. But you believed in more, you had to believe in more. You couldn’t let your mom and dad down.

“I’d like that. I could tell you all the amazing colours that are out there. There’s even supposed to be colours that we don’t even here on Earth. Though I guess that doesn’t matter to me, does it?” Chuckling, you smile at her before shrugging lightly. She responded with her own smile, skin wrinkling at the corners with affection for you.

A sudden ping from your PED, personal electronic device, caused you both to jerk slightly in surprise. Glancing down at it, your eyes widened as your finger tapped the slim black tube. The familiar holographic screen of your PED came to life before you, glowing white in your vision.

Apparently it was supposed to be what was termed neon blue, but to you it was just like white. Much like any lighting did, no matter the colour. The various apps on your PED were closed at the moment, leaving just the background of the Pegasus cluster and the outlines of the few apps you considered important enough to keep on screen at all times.

One of them was your messaging app, which currently had a little ‘1’ in a tiny circle at the top right. You had one message, one new notification.

Looking over at your mom, your eyes widen as you lift up your PED so she can see better. Chewing on your lip, you press the app and watch as it opens up immediately. The list of messages from your parents, classmates and teachers filled up the screen and you quickly shifted from personal messages to mail.

Your inbox was full of scholarship and bursary applications to various governmental bodies along with newsletters to the random sites that you frequented often. But the newest message, the text bright and bold against the rest attracted your attention.

Clicking on it, you felt yourself go cold as you read it over slowly.

To: Y/N-Y/L/N@excelsioracademy.earth

From: results@eartheducationboard.earth

Title: University Entrance Examination Results

Y/N Y/LN,

Thank you for participating in the 3121 University Entrance Examinations at Excelsior Academy in Busan, Old Korea, Earth. We appreciate the time and effort that you took in not only studying but taking part in the examinations.

Please see your results from the Standard Education examinations below. 

Mathematics: 97/100

Standard Language: 89/100

Physics: 91/100

Biology: 90/100

Chemistry: 91/100

History: 100/100

Physical Education: 85/100

Literature: 95/100

Any extra examinations that you have undertaken outside of the Standard Education will be listed below.

Korean Language: 98/100

English Language: 97/100

Spanish Language: 92/100

Advanced Mathematics: 94/100

Astrogeology: 91/100

Astrobiology: 85/100

We hope that these exam results meet the level you had expected. The universities that you applied to have been in receipt of these grades for the last seven days. Please see below to see which universities, if any, have accepted you onto your chosen course of: Education.

New Seoul University, New Korea

If you have been accepted by any universities, please note that they will be in communication with you separately in regards to your course.

Kind Regards,

Earth Education Board

You sit with wide eyes, neither your mom nor you quite comprehending what you’re reading as you flick back to the top and read again. Before you can even make it to the bottom once more though, another noise indicates you have another notification and you click out in a daze, accepting the second mail that has been sent to you.

To: Y/N-Y/L/N@excelsioracademy.earth

From: admissions@newseouluniversity.edu.newkorea

Title: Welcome To New Seoul University!

Welcome Y/N Y/L/N!

We’re delighted to accept you into the below degree course here at New Seoul University for the 3121 intake of students:

Bachelor of Schooling Education

This is a four year course that will see you studying with some of the top professors across a range of subjects at one of the top ranked university institutions in the galaxy. We hope that you’re excited to start your new education here!

As a student of Earth, please note that you have been granted the below scholarships and grants in order to pay for your tuition, academic fees and accommodation fees. If you require any more help then please respond and we would be more than willing to help!

United Nations of Earth Travel Grant

As a citizen of Earth who has performed above average on the University Entrance Examinations, you have been approved for a grant that will cover the transport costs from Earth to New Korea.

United Nations of Earth Education Grant

As a citizen of Earth who has performed above average on the University Entrance Examinations, you have been approved for a grant that will provide you with money to pay for any academic items you may need alongside any extra academic fees.

New Seoul University Education Scholarship

Due to your high grades, you have been granted a scholarship from the Education department to cover any field trips or placements you will need to partake in as part of your degree.

New Seoul University Equality Scholarship

Due to the circumstances of your monetary background, you have been granted a scholarship that will cover the tuition fees for your degree. You have also been granted a scholarship that will pay for your accommodation here in New Seoul to allow you to study.

We hope that you look forward to studying here. We look forward to meeting you!

If you have any more questions, please let us know. We have provided relevant literature to your degree and the university to allow you to research where you will soon be living more! Included in this pack is an accommodation application, please fill this in along with the New Student form and send it back as soon as possible.

We will be in touch soon!

Kind Regards,

Kim Namjoon

Admissions

New Seoul University

“You did it! Oh my god, you did it! HONEY! OUR BABY GIRL GOT INTO UNIVERSITY!” Your mom starts screaming, tears falling down her face as she jumps around the dilapidated room in joy. Watching her with numb hands, you realise that you’re crying too when you feel the wet streaks down your chin.

Your father comes out of their bedroom, which also doubled as his makeshift office, and looks with confusion between your mom and you. Seeing the tears, he moves over to you, prosthetic legs creaking as he sits down and reads the messages that you hand to him.

Once done, he looks back up at you with eyes that glisten, emotion that you can’t even begin to understand welling deep within him. At seeing your dad’s overwhelming emotion, you finally let out a sob of joint happiness and shock, throwing your arms around his shoulders and crying into him as it all finally hits you.

You did it. You passed the entrance exams. You passed the entrance exams and got into university. A university off planet! One of the best universities in the galaxy at that! You were going to escape Earth, you were going to have a better life.

“I did it!” You whisper, pulling your mom into the hug as she kneels down in front of you both. It’s all you can say, all any of you can see as you celebrate this monumental achievement.

Less than 500 students out of the 5 million who take the university exams get into off world planets. Less than 100 get into prestigious universities.

You managed to be one of those lucky hundred, all thanks to your parents perseverance and belief. Hugging them even tighter, you press kisses to their faces as you all start to laugh while crying, the pure happiness infectious between you all.

You were going to make them proud. You were going to do everything they ever wanted for you and you vowed then and there, with your arms around them, that you would get them off this god forsaken planet.

It was unlikely that you could give them the life they deserve with what they had left, but you would at least let them live out their end years in peace and happiness somewhere better. 

And maybe, just maybe...you might find a way to see colour along the way.

Looking out the window, you bite your lip as you watched another starship take off, heading for planets unknown thousands of lightyears away. That was going to be you soon, heading off a planet you’d only ever really heard about. 

Maybe your soulmate was waiting for you there. 

Either way...you couldn’t wait.

-

The first few days of being in New Seoul are overwhelming to say the least. You’d spent hours researching the campus and city extensively, scanning over the history and images that were available to you. Admittedly, they all just looked pretty similar given you could only see in grayscale but it looked nice.

The reality was something else entirely though. Towering skyscrapers reached towards the sky like the fingers of a hand in Busan, trying to scrape their way to freedom in space. That combined with the scent of garbage, sewage, the sludge from the ocean and the fumes of exhausts that didn’t quite comply with what should have been the environmental standard.

And all of that competed with the abundance of neon signage that screamed out at passersby, demanding attention from all corners. Busan was busy, overcrowded and dirty but it shouted what it had to offer as loudly as it could. Not that what it did offer was any good.

New Seoul was...similar and yet completely different. The skyscrapers here didn’t stretch as far as possible into the skies, in fact the capital city of New Korea apparently had a building limit of 50 stories. It boggled your mind when you looked around the streets, each one astonishingly wide and lined with an abundance of native trees.

Grass, real grass and not even that fake crap that had been trodden into the dirt over decades, blew ever so gently in the breeze and you had no doubt that it would be a rich and luscious green if you could see it. But nothing really compared to the magnificent sight above your head.

To you, the sky simply looked like a shade of grey. But it was a shade you had never seen on the vast expanse before, occasionally dotted with white clouds with darker grey embedded within them. You’d never seen the sky itself though. Busan kept a perpetual haze in the upper limits, a blanket of thick and suffocating pollution and smog that made the sky as grey for everyone else as it did for you.

Even though you couldn’t see the colours of the sky here, you knew that New Seoul was more beautiful than Busan could have ever hoped to be. 

And there was more. The motor vehicles here were energy efficient, powered by solar via the panels that were embedded into the body, only a slight hum emanated purely to make sure that they could be heard by any pedestrians walking around. The streets were impossibly clean, hygiene robots patrolling regularly and cleaning along with hoovering up any rubbish that may be dropped.

It was also so...sparse in population compared to what you were used to. People here often lived on their own in a whole apartment. You had a room to yourself with a little kitchen in it and everything. You’d seen less people here in a few days than you had in two minutes outside in Busan. 

Overwhelming, yes. That was the right word for it.

And then of course, there was the sheer abundance of fresh and delicious food available. You’d eaten fresh, real tuna the other day in a sandwich made with bread that had been baked that morning. It had boggled your mind how delightful it tasted, only cementing how terrible the fake food that was served on Earth was.

Milkshakes were also a revelation, the vanilla taste so rich and indulgent with a wonderfully smooth texture that just slid down your throat. You’d spent a good two hours in a café on the first day, amazed at the world as you watched it pass by outside the window. 

New Seoul had the neon signs still, they were almost a tradition of big cities in the galaxy at this point, but they were almost tasteful now. Advertising clothes or virt-real arcades where children and teenagers flocked. Restaurants used them to announce their menu of the day and so much more. It was beautiful here, elegant almost.

The people walking around New Seoul even looked different to back in Busan. They looked healthy and strong here, happy and full of life and hope. Everyone was a little taller here too, a side effect of the planet having less gravity than Earth. It had been a little awkward for you at first, feeling ever so slightly weightless. 

You were stronger than people born and raised here too. That had been something you’d known objectively but forgotten until you’d accidentally launched an empty cup into the recycling. A few odd stares had occurred but no one said anything. People were generally used to the differences in strength and ability, but it was still amusing to see sometimes.

A slightly more negative discovery had been that your years of studying the Korean language had apparently been in vain. It was your mother tongue, the native language of Busan and therefore the mother tongue of New Korea as well. You’d only naturally thought that it would be useful to continue on your studies of the language past the basic lessons in your early childhood.

As such, you’d never considered there’d be anything wrong. But you’d forgotten that New Korea was founded over 700 years ago and the vast majority of the population today had emigrated at some point over the past few centuries. The socio-economic situation on Earth meant that immigration from Old Korea had been a trickle, one that had often run dry.

With that lack of interaction over the centuries...the Korean language spoken here had become almost unintelligible to you. They used words you’d never even heard of and even some of the grammar had shifted. What should have been a warm and easy welcome had become fraught with difficulty as you struggled to understand the silken tones and dancing syllables they used.

Your own Korean, slightly more standardised in the 32nd century than what it had once been, was equally as confusing to them. They could understand you to a degree, but it was like you were speaking some bizarre dialect with odd formalities. And apparently, your dialect was considered to be rough and grating.

Despite the pain at realising you would struggle with that, you had the reassuring balm that New Seoul taught in Standard. But you were a smart person, you would enlist in Korean lessons here and learn this language that was the same but entirely different. 

Biting your lip, you looked out over the large classroom and inhaled deeply. It smelt clean, the slightest hint of vanilla in the air from the scent diffusers installed into the air units while the seats were currently folded up, soft memory foam in black waiting for students to sit in them.

Hesitantly, you head over to one of the centre rows and sit down. The chair is possibly the comfiest thing you’ve ever sat in, and you’re positive it cost more than anything in your old bedroom. It kind of annoyed you to think that, but you pushed the thought away quickly. You were here now. You were going to make something of your life.

Pulling out your PED, you extended it out and turned on the screen, watching the holoscreen come to life in front of you. A quick tap had a keyboard appearing on the desk in front of you and you navigated through to the relevant class information on the university intranet. 

“Err...is it okay if I sit here?” A deep voice asks beside you, his accent oddly lyrical as he spoke Standard to you. Glancing up, you see a guy standing next to you. He’s ridiculously attractive with hair that you presume to be black looking all ruffled on his head. His eyes are kind though while his smile is nervous.

Nodding, you gesture to the seat and smile back at him as he sits down. 

He sets up his own desk before looking at you, pausing for a moment before obviously taking the plunge and leaning forward. “Are you from here too? Or are you an off planet?”

“Oh, I’m off planet. I’m...err...well I’m from Earth. Old Korea actually. You? I’m Y/N by the way.” His eyes widen at your words and you see him do a quick scan of your body, not even caring that you could blatantly see him doing it. You must pass some internal test before he shrugs, settling back in his seat.

“Taehyung. I’m from Alexandros. I get the feeling we’re both going to suffer a bit of a cultural learning curve.” Snorting, you roll your eyes and nod at that. Already you feel comfortable and at home with him, even though you’ve barely spoken. Something about him is exceptionally friendly and nice.

Despite him not explaining, you know why he said it. Alexandros is a planet with a reputation, much like Earth. Only his planet’s reputation is a little more...hedonistic in nature. Sex of all kinds wasn’t illegal on there, even the kinds that you personally thought should be illegal.

Marriage didn’t exist and polyamory was the norm. Most people had multiple partners which resulted in multiple children. You didn’t know the in’s and out’s of it, but it was basically the planet you went to if you just wanted a good time. It held the title of the best wine and beer made in the galaxy along with a surprisingly good restaurant scene according to the information pages about them.

New Korea...was not as free as Alexandros and you felt that you and Taehyung were certainly going to have to learn what was acceptable and what wasn’t here. Just getting used to the fact that this place had actual laws that mattered, like not walking across the road anywhere other than at specified crossing areas.

“Yeah...we’re gonna have a bit of a tough time huh? I even discovered that not only is Earth considered backwards to everyone else, we really are because I can’t even understand their Korean.” He laughs at that, his smile box like and you can’t help but smile in response.

“Shit...that must suck. At least you can speak Standard though. So like, feel free to tell me to fuck off if it offends you but...does Earth really suck as bad as everyone says? I’ve never met anyone from there.” Taehyung is inquisitive, a tiny frown of interest on his face and you let out a small sigh.

“It really is. Let’s just say...well this is the first time I’ve ever seen the sky. Like...without pollution and stuff. And trees. I’ve never seen a real tree. It’s all very...I tried tuna! And real beef! Oh my, it was amazing. You don’t understand what luxury the galaxy has without even realising it!” The wonder in your voice and excitement that resonates causing Taehyung to grin even bigger.

“I’ve...never considered it before to be honest. I mean, I’ve never had tuna. It’s not a common food on Alexandros but I have had other seafood if that counts? I’m interested in trying the beef here, apparently they have some ancient way of cooking it?” Nodding, you open up a new screen on your PED and quickly type into the search.

“Yes, it’s a traditional Korean barbecue, they cook it on the table for you. Or rather you cook it. We actually do still have this back home but it doesn’t really taste nice because they don’t even bother washing the grills anymore so it’s covered in black crap. And the meat is just...artificial crap. I’m excited to try it here though, I bet they use real sauce too.” 

You don’t see the way Taehyung looks at you in pure wonderment, completely bemused by how excited you’re getting over something as simple as real meat and sauce. Pausing, you glance over and lower your head in embarrassment which immediately gets him shaking his head with a smile.

“Hey don’t get upset, I want to try it too. We should go, you seem to know what would be good. This is me trying to make friends by the way. I feel we could both use with at least one friend here, right?” You eyed him in astonishment, surprised that he was this bold and forward. No one cared about others back on Earth, they certainly didn’t embrace friendliness this quickly.

“Are you always this forward?”

Taehyung nods enthusiastically, his hair flying everywhere as he does so and you can’t help but laugh at him. “Oh yeah. It’s an Alexandros trait but my mom’s and dad’s always said I was the most outgoing out of my siblings. It’s why they paid for my tuition and everything to come here. They felt I’d make a good teacher!”

Humming quietly, you wonder whether to be as forward with him as he’d been with you. Eyeing him for a second, you decide to go for it. He can’t get upset when he just asked something that could have been hurtful to you.

“So it’s really true about Alexandros? Multiple partners and stuff?” To his credit, Taehyung doesn’t even look slightly bothered about your question. He’s busy opening up the class documents on his own PED, tongue flicking out to lick his lips.

“Oh yeah. I’ve had a lot of dad’s and mom’s and parents who didn’t identify as either gender. Some of them are still around, some have moved on to other places. At last count, I’ve had eight dad’s, six mom’s and two non-binary parents. I believe I have,” He pauses, looking up and doing some quick calculations. “Twenty two brothers and sixteen sisters. It all started because our planet wasn’t the most hospitable at the start and so they had to have more kids to be able to actually have a normal amount survive. Now everyone just likes sex and big families. It’s cool.”

You’re positive that your eyes are wide, but it’s just a completely foreign idea to you. Earth actively encouraged small families, trying to desperately reduce the rampant overpopulation. You’d never met anyone with a sibling. Nevermind thirty eight siblings!

“That’s...wow. I’m not being like...rude or anything. The idea of that on Earth is...horrifying actually. That’s how to end up in absolute poverty on the streets. It must be nice though, having such a big family around you.” He hums, lips twisting while his hand shakes slightly.

“Yes and no. It’s fun and you always have support but the fights aren’t fun, let me tell you that.” Smiling at him, you turn your head as the professor enters from the door at the bottom of the room.

“Well Taehyung...how about you tell me all about it over some barbecue later?” With an even bigger smile, he shakes your hand and nods his head in acceptance.

-

4 Years Later

Over the last four years at New Seoul University, you’ve learnt many things about not only the world outside of Earth but about yourself. You’d learnt that you were not as smart as you’d originally thought you were, but you’d come to terms with that and even enjoyed no longer being the shining example in class.

You’d learnt to no longer worry and stress about your future, instead choosing to live in the moment. This was something that people on Earth simply wouldn’t really understand, because they had no real future. But you had the galaxy in your hands now, and after you finished your final year of your degree then you’d be able to venture out into the world.

You’d learnt that the universe really did consider Earth a backwater dump, one to which you couldn’t even really argue about. But the rest of the galaxy wasn’t all roses either. Niflheim, so named after the Ancient Norse world of fog, mist and darkness, was a planet that was probably even more harsh to live on than Earth. A planet of near perpetual storms of ice, most of the inhabitants had to survive underneath specially built domes that protected the buildings that led to the mineshafts deep in the astonishingly large mountains.

Despite it’s unforgiving nature, Niflheim was popular to work in because of the Helite its small towns mined, a material that was incredibly hard yet surprisingly flexible. It had a high resale value, making the tough world hard to live in but valuable to those who roughed it out.

You’d learnt to explore yourself as well, enjoying your life for once instead of pushing yourself hard to succeed academically to the point you had no life. Taehyung had helped here, decreeing that it simply wasn’t acceptable that you kept shutting yourself in your dorm room and doing all of your homework way in advance of the deadlines.

As he pointed out, life was for living...not punishing yourself.

So you kept up your high grades to maintain your scholarships, but you lived a little more freely too. You’d shyly dated a few people here and there, sad that none of them brought beautiful to your world, and learnt many new things about yourself.

Unsurprisingly, you weren’t a fan of casual sex but you’d also discovered that you hated beer but enjoyed wine. Alcohol was far too expensive on Earth so most people made their own version which could be bought cheap. But it also came with a far higher mortality rate because you never knew what was going into it.

But you enjoyed it here, understood why people thought wine was more ‘sophisticated’ and had become quite accustomed to a glass at night. Another benefit to being friends, or more correctly best friends now, with one Kim Taehyung was that he had a much more lax view about sex than anyone else around here. And that was saying something compared to you.

Which meant that instead of casual sex, you’d been friends with benefits with him for well over a year. To him, it was purely sex and he didn’t mind giving it to you even if he was dating because of the culture he’d grown up in. He made it clear with his partners that he was free to date others and have sex with others too. But you’d mostly kept to him, not really enjoying putting yourself out there for anyone else in a while.

This was the start of your fourth, and final year at university. And you still see in black and white and all the shades of grey in between. It made your heart hurt and sometimes, at night in your shared apartment when you were a little tipsy, you lamented to Taehyung that maybe you’d never see colour.

Given the planet he came from and it’s views on sex, dating and all of that, it was perhaps unsurprising that Taehyung viewed the idea of soulmates with more than a little skepticism. In fact, you were positive he thought it was all just a bunch of shit but was being too polite and nice to tell you otherwise.

Not when he could see how much the belief that there was someone out there meant to you; someone who would love you unconditionally and who you would adore in turn, someone who would bring colour and joy to your world.

He’d acknowledged that you were in fact colour blind, many times accidentally asking you for colour advice on outfits or hair before hitting his head in realisation when you stared at him blankly. But he probably just thought it was some medical condition caused by being raised on Earth.

Soulmates didn’t really gel with the Alexandros philosophy on relationships. You didn’t complain too much to him, even though you knew of stories where people had multiple soulmates back in the old times. A lot of people today who heard about soulmates thought they were always, ironically, black and white in terms of who was bonded together.

A man and a woman, but that was wrong. Fate brought together the two souls who complemented each other the most. Men and women, yes, but also two women, two men, those who don't identify as either and so much more. Fate didn’t care about humanity’s ideas of sexuality or gender...it just cared about finding two people who would be perfect for each other.

But most people didn’t believe it anyway, so you didn’t see any point in trying to educate them. Not when they obviously had no visible reason to believe in it. 

You did though. The café that you stared out at right now told you that there was someone for you, because there was no way you’d been born this colour blind and had such a desperate urge to leave your planet and come here otherwise. They were here, you were sure of it. 

It’s just that there were over 2 billion people on this planet, so your chances were slim.

“Is there a particular reason you’ve been drying that cup for five minutes now?” The deep voice of Taehyung causes you to jump slightly, jerked out of your thoughts abruptly. Turning to look at him, you see his ever smiling face watching you intently as he leans his hip against the sink.

“Sorry...I just...new year and all that. Just...thinking.” You can’t even find a reason for him, instead just shrugging and placing the cup down before grabbing another and beginning to dry it. Glancing out over the café that you both work in, just one of the many that dot the city of New Seoul.

If there’s one thing that both old and new Korea have in common, it’s their avid love of coffee. The only difference between the two is that real coffee and milk is actually used here and not fake stuff. You could personally attest that it made all the difference to have the real stuff, it was far more flavourful and creamy.

This café is one that’s just on the outskirts of the university, meaning that it was frequented by students at all times of the day. From noon to midnight and even at 4am, there would be at least one student in its warm and fragrant walls.

You liked working here, even if it added to your stress by giving you even less time in the day for yourself but it also helped to give you an extra money flow. The scholarships and grants were great, but you needed more money to save away for when you’d finished uni.

New Korea thankfully gave automatic citizenship to anyone from Old Korea due to the historical relations between the two and you would be accepting that as soon as you’d finished uni. You would admit that perhaps you were trying to game the system by waiting until you had a degree in your hand as accepting citizenship now would mean losing the money from the United Nations Government.

Taehyung said you were being smart, but you felt like you were being selfish. But at the same time, you almost felt like Earth owes you it at least. You would be the best kind of PR for the planet, born on the ancient homeworld of humanity and dragged yourself out of it through sheer willpower and smarts.

So you worked at the café to help yourself out, letting you put away half your wages into a savings account that you would use to put down a deposit for an apartment when you finish school. The other half went to just actually enjoying life.

“All your classes are sorted right? You’re in the same Children’s Cognitive Development class as me right? With Dr Oh?” Your best friend asks, reaching past you for a cup before heading over to the coffee machine. The selling point of this café is that it uses traditional methods to make its coffee, which means the machines here are just modern versions of those that were used over a thousand years ago. 

Apparently it made the best tasting coffee, despite all the advancements of technology since.

You would agree to be honest. It wasn’t quick but that almost seemed to make it taste better.

“Yeah, I’ve got that and then I’ve also taken Interplanetary Children’s Education, The Psychology of Childhood and Teaching Special Needs.” The cups are all dry now and you begin stacking them back up in their relevant area, making sure that the café logo is facing forwards as you’d been taught long ago.

“Damn, big schedule. You’ve got the dissertation to do, you need to remember that too.” Tae points out, grabbing the carton of milk out of the refrigeration unit and adding it into the drink he’s making. Nodding, you give him a quick smile.

“I know. I’ve already decided on my topic, it’s basically going to be about how the education system is meant to be set up to be applicable to all children across all planets but it still benefits those who are better off than those in poverty.” Glancing over at you, Taehyung puts the cup and saucer onto the small tray before reaching into the counter, cutting off a piece of luxurious strawberry and cream cake before carefully placing that on the tray too.

“I wonder why the girl from Earth has chosen that topic?” He muses with a smile, brow rising at you and you just give him another innocent shrug. Your teacher had thought that same thing when you proposed it, but he’d supported you in your topic anyway.

“Can you take this out? Table 12.” He says, nodding out into the area and you smile before acknowledging his request. Brushing your hands down your black apron, you look out and your eyes widen as you see who’s sat at the table, PED glowing in front of him as a small frown knots his brow together.

“Jung Hoseok? Are you kidding?” That Tae laughing quietly, looking over before giving you a conspiratorial grin. He knows full well about your little crush on one of the most eligible bachelors on New Korea. 

Everyone knew who Jung Hoseok was, his family had been one of the first to emigrate to New Korea and had been instrumental in the founding of New Seoul. His family was astonishingly rich and well cultured, his genealogy being traced back not only centuries but centuries before humanity left Earth.

That alone made him one of the most eligible bachelors. Everyone wanted to be rich, and bagging one of the founding families was certainly the way to ensure you were rich and someone who mattered. You knew that Hoseok’s father was a Congressman in the government of New Korea, involved in regulating laws, business and more for the whole planet.

His mother was heavily involved in the education system itself. Despite that, Hoseok had got into university on his own merit. Despite your dissertation subject, the university exams were all done anonymously. So he’d gotten here by his own brain and not by the money his parents had.

Another reason he was incredibly popular and wanted though, was because he was so damn attractive. A straight slope of a nose ended in the slightest curve upwards, combining with the sharp cut of his jaw to give him one of the most astonishing side profiles ever. Soft cheeks were dotted with sweet dimples that showed when he was happy, frustrated or thinking.

Long and elegant fingers had apparently grown up playing the piano while his eyes were pools of friendliness and warmth. Jung Hoseok was well known for being exceptionally polite and friendly, one of the most affable people in the whole university. He had no real enemies and tried hard to stay on the good side of everyone.

And he did, because he was just so damn...nice.

He was astonishingly beautiful, his black hair a little fluffy and mussed together with no styling in it. You didn’t know what colour his clothes were today, all you knew was that it looked like his jeans were dark and his shirt was white. Taehyung had confirmed his hair colour long ago to you and you could only imagine how astonishing he looked in colour.

In monochrome, he was quite possibly the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.

You were best friends with Taehyung too, so that was high praise.

And Taehyung knew all about your little crush on the important, influential, beautiful and friendly heir. You’d never even spoken to the man before, simply simpered over him from behind the counter whenever he was here. 

You’d never encountered someone who had lit up your thoughts and captured your dreams quite like him. He made your stomach feel a little funny when he was here, like there were little birds flying around inside that were trying to make their way out.

But now you had to go out there and talk to him. And give him what he’d ordered. He probably wouldn’t even notice you. Hoseok was two years older than you, in his final year of a business management master’s degree and you were positive he was going to go into some area of his family business once done.

As such, your paths had never had any reason to cross outside out of the café, so he probably hadn’t even noticed you existed. Most people didn’t really pay attention to the staff in places, even here in New Seoul where everyone was meant to be a little more ‘cultured’.

Taking a deep breath, you quickly brush over the flyaway hairs on your face and brush away imaginary dirt from your apron once more before grasping the tray. It shakes only a little bit, and part of you wonders why you’re so bothered about him. You’d never been this bothered about anyone even when you’d been dating them.

Heading out, you see Taehyung give you a thumbs up with a cheesy smile as he accepts a new order from the terminal that a customer has sent through from the holo menus in the tables. He’s distracted immediately and you’re left on your own, walking over to Hoseok.

Smiling politely with your best customer service face, you place the ceramic saucer on the table before carefully placing the matching cup on top. The familiar clink that occurs when they meet each other is lost in the overall noise that crowds the café. Glancing down, you add the piece of strawberry and cream cake that he’d ordered as well before placing the dainty silver fork next to it.

“Here’s your drink and food sir, I hope you find it enjoyable.” You say politely, tipping your head in a slight bow as you hold the tray against your waist, pressing against the apron that makes up part of the uniform you had to wear here. This had been part of the training that you’d had to actively learn when compared to the others who worked here and had grown up on New Korea.

Taehyung had had to learn to incorporate cultural differences into his daily and work life as well, so at least you hadn’t been on your own there. Customer’s were treated like mini deities here, and while it was pleasing when you were on the receiving end, it wasn’t entirely nice when you were on the other end. Most customers were equally nice but some, as expected, were not. Those were the ones who tried to take advantage of staff.

You hated dealing with those.

But you knew Hoseok wouldn’t be like that. He’d never raised his voice to any member of staff here at the café before, in fact you’d never heard of him shouting or being mean to anyone. You wish you could that was because of his upper class upbringing here on New Seoul, but usually those people ended up being the ones who had the worst manners.

Not Hoseok though. Jung Hoseok was always exceptionally polite and friendly to everyone. Part of the charm that made him idolised by those at New Seoul University while also making him a prime bachelor for the many single women and men here. If you had to make a list of the top ten most eligible men in New Seoul University, Hoseok would probably be in the top three.

Park Jimin and Kim Seokjin would be battling it out for the other places no doubt.

You turn once he’s acknowledged you with a small smile and a quick thanks, his voice deeper and quieter than you expected, shifting your tray in your hands as you look back over to the counter to check if Taehyung’s okay or if you’re okay to collect the leftover cups and plates on the empty tables. 

A sudden warm weight on your wrist jerks you to a halt, surprising you because you weren’t expecting Hoseok to interact with you anymore. Brows raising, you turn back to Hoseok as you hear him begin to speak.

“Excuse me, miss-” He pauses though and you frown, wondering why until you look directly into his eyes once more. They’re a colour that you’ve never seen before, which causes you to pause in surprise, leaning back slightly.

Hoseok is staring at you with equally wide eyes that flick over your face, brow creasing ever so slightly while his mouth remains open. For a few seconds, it seems like the world outside of you both has paused and there is only Hoseok and you.

Brown. That must be the colour. You’d overheard girls on occasion gushing over Hoseok’s rich brown eyes. At the time, you’d shrugged off the comment without a second thought. Life without colour had become familiar to you, so you couldn’t miss what you’d never had.

But now, now that you can see the beautiful colours slowly bleeding to life as you look him over. His skin is more vibrant in colour, his sweater an odd shade darker than white actually that you can’t quite figure out. Jeans remain black while his equally black boots remain on his feet, matching the dark and luscious locks on his head.

Even there though, you can see hints of brown shining through their strands, blending together in a beautiful colour. Looking away from him, you see colour everywhere suddenly. Green, the colour of the grass outside that had always just looked pale to you. 

Hoseok’s hand tightens on your wrist and you look back at him, ignorant of everything else once more. Confusion is written all over his face and you get the sudden sense that he’s probably extremely overwhelmed with what’s happening right now.

“What just happened?” He whispers, confirming your suspicions. But he sounds so lost and meek, almost afraid that your heart clenched tightly with the need to console him. Uncaring whether your manager or colleagues get annoyed, you sit opposite him at the small table, the cup of coffee still steaming between you both.

His hand is still on your wrist, warm and solid.

“Are you seeing colours right now? Like...real colours?” You ask softly, leaning forward and keeping your voice low. Part of you wants to look around and take everything in, but the abundance of sheer...variety of colour that the world has makes your brain hurt a little, unable to take everything in.

It’s even worse given that you don’t even know what some of these colours are, your mind grasping for answers it simply doesn’t know.

Hoseok looks much the same, squinting his eyes slightly and you marvel at the fact that even light itself appears to have a colour. 

“How do you know that? What just happened?” Hoseok asks insistently, moving forward to shorten the distance between yourself and him. You take a deep breath, knowing that what you’re going to say next to him will make no sense. New Korea is a planet that stopped believing in soulmates long ago, the concept dying quickly as those with the knowledge passed away.

Anyone who finds their soulmate now does it by accident, so there’s no wonder Hoseok has no idea what’s going on. He probably just thought he’s always been colourblind because of some medical reason no one can figure out.

Just like you.

“I...okay, this is going to sound very strange and silly. But...have you heard of soulmates?” He tilts his head, eyes still blank at the word before shrugging slightly, lips pursing.

“In films I think. Maybe a book or two. Aren’t they just myths?” You shake your head slowly, taking a deep breath to stabilise yourself and your feelings before letting it out just as slow. It doesn’t really work, but you try to pretend that it did.

“Soulmates aren’t myths. They’re real. And...well...I don’t know how to say this to you without weirding you out but...I’m pretty sure you’re my soulmate. And I’m yours.” 

Hoseok just stares at you, face completely expressionless. For a moment, you think he’s going to laugh at you loudly and walk off, resolving to never come to this café again because of the strange Earthen girl babbling about soulmates and stuff. But instead, he releases your wrist and sits back against his chair with a soft ‘oof’, eyes widening.

“What?”

-

Perhaps unsurprisingly, there’s an odd tension between you and the man you fully believe to be your soulmates as you walk quietly through the nearby park. He hasn’t said a word since leaving the café and the bubbling in gut is a mix of excitement that you’d finally found him and worry that he wouldn’t believe you.

That he’d turn and walk away.

It had been ten minutes since you’d quickly rushed back to Taehyung behind the counter, begging him to cover the rest of your shift even though he was due to finish. Understandably, he’d been more than a little confused and surprised.

The half counter door swings shut behind you silently, the only sign it had been opened was the gentle swaying as it settles back into its usual place. Taehyung is currently adding the cherry syrup onto the whipped cream in the hot chocolate he’d made for a waiting customer, his face scrunched as he concentrated on the task at hand.

Chaeyoung is currently pulling the freshly baked goods out of the auto oven, placing the tray on the side to let them cool down for a bit before adding them onto the shelves in the counter for people to choose something to snack on. She hasn’t noticed your rushed appearance though, only her vibrant blue hair visible as she hums quietly to the gentle music piping through the hidden speakers in the café.

Once Tae had finished his latte and placed it on the counter to be collected, you grabbed his arm tightly and tugged him towards the back. He looked at you with confusion, dark brows tighty knitted together in concern at whatever expression you had on your face.

“Tae...I need you to cover my shift. Please, please say yes!” You beg him, letting go of his arm to clasp your hands together while you made your eyes go as wide as possible, pleading with him desperately to get him to agree.

“What? Why? I finish in ten minutes? You don’t finish for another two hours!” He begins to complain, the corners of his lips already turning down in a pout that would tug at your heartstrings.

But you can’t give in to him this time. Not now.

Glancing back outside at the café, you’re relieved to see that Hoseok is still sitting at his table. His own expression is a carefully blank one, the lower half of his face hidden as he drinks deeply from the cup you’d placed in front of him only minutes earlier.

“I found him. I found him Tae.” Taehyung’s expression slips into its own version of Hoseok’s, face not giving away anything as he obviously doesn’t understand what you’re on about.

“My soulmate! It’s Hoseok.” That gets an incredulous look, Taehyung’s eyebrows rising high on his forehead until they’re disappearing beneath his ruffled hair. They soon begin to track down though as disbelief fills him and he leans back, looking out of the door himself at the man in question.

“Jung Hoseok...is your soulmate...right. Okay.” You can tell he’s trying really hard not to put down your hopes here. He’s never believed in soulmates and despite the stories you’ve told him over the years, he’s remained firm in the belief that they’re just old wives tales from a planet that’s been dying for centuries now.

A small piece of hope for people who don’t have any.

But you still believed. And now you’d been proven right.

Glancing around the items stored on various shelves in the back room, you suddenly point towards a box of fresh coffee beans. “That’s green. And...and your hair is blue! Like the sky outside. That cup is...red and that box is brown.”

Taehyung follows your gestures, suspicion deep within them at first before slowly his eyes widen and his jaw drops.

“Holy shit. You can see colour now? What colour is this?” He asks loudly, pulling out another box from one of the shelves and holding it up. You can’t even begin to describe the colour, your brow creasing in a frown as you try to find a reference for what it could be.

“...light red?” Taehyung laughs loudly.

“Kind of. Pink. It’s pink. Actually it’s more of a fuchsia which is like...a pink mixed with a purple. Which you also don’t know so I should shut up. But anyway...how did that happen?” Chewing your lip, you shrug lightly.

“I don’t know. I mean...well...Hoseok touched my wrist to get my attention and then suddenly...it was like the world filled in. And he had the same expression, looking around everywhere. So I asked him if he can see colour now and he asked how I knew that. He...I...I mean...if he couldn’t see colour either until he touched me? You know I’ve liked him for ages too!” You’re not entirely sure why you’re almost begging him to believe you, but you need someone to accept you’re not just talking bullshit.

“Damn...yeah. Okay...I’ll bite then. Yeah, I’ll cover your shift. Go talk to him or whatever it is soulmates do. If it really is soulmates. Holy shit. Y/N, you do realise that’s Jung mother-fucking Hoseok out there? Not just some regular college guy?” Pointing out the door, he looks at you with deep concern and you feel warmth blossom inside at his protectiveness over you.

You know what he’s talking about. Of all the people in the universe, it had to be him.

“I know. I know...I just...well we’ll talk to each other and...see what happens I guess?”

What happens is apparently a lot of silence. You’re not sure if this is just Hoseok’s general nature, if he’s angry or if he’s just in shock. What you’ve seen and heard of him over the years indicates that he’s not particularly a generally quiet person.

Sure, he has his moments. But mostly he’s pretty loud when with people he likes and almost abnormally friendly. Not right now though. Right now he’s the quietest you’ve ever seen him, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans while his boots are silent on the ground. They’re obviously high end with in-built silencing fabric. You don’t even want to imagine the cost.

His bag is now slung over his shoulder, the contents of which you don’t know. Bags aren’t exactly the most common thing in today’s society, nearly everything could be done either on a PED or the small biochip that was implanted into everyone’s wrist. A combination ID card, bank card and more.

Finally though, he stops at an old-fashioned wooden bench with ornate metal woven between it. It’s been coated in weather-resistant paint, the black colour still as vibrant and shiny as the day it had been originally painted on.

For a moment, you simply stare at that and find yourself speaking without even thinking.

“Wow, even black looks different in colour.” It’s true, even if you didn’t mean to say it out loud. Hoseok’s lips pursed for a moment before he looked to his side, taking in the railing with interest before nodding and letting out a quiet noise of agreement from his throat.

And then you find yourself staring at him, taking in his sheer beauty before then looking around the park as well. It’s truly astonishing to see so much colour, to know that people just grew up being able to see this all the time. You couldn’t have even imagined just how many different variations of green there are, the shades running from the darkest green that almost borders on black to the pretty and palest green you’d spotted on a few flowers.

“It’s so beautiful.” You whisper gently, eyes running along an ancient tree that towers above you both. It’s trunk is thick and strong, the bark a shade between grey and brown while the leaves that sway in the breeze are a mixture of greens and what you presume to be orange and yellow. The science books said that was generally what colour leaves went during autumn, but New Korea had species of trees that weren’t found on Earth.

Either way, it was possibly one of the most beautiful sights you’d ever seen.

“It is. And I don’t really mean to interrupt you, because I kinda really just wanna look around too, but...I need you to explain. Please.” Hoseok gestures to the bench next to him with an imploring look and you see the pure confusion in his eyes. The poor guy's life has suddenly been turned upside down and he has absolutely no idea what’s just happened apart from a quickly blurted out statement from you in a café.

Honestly, he’s taking it all pretty well.

Taking a deep breath, you use it to fortify yourself as best you can before sitting down next to him. A quick glance over at him lets you see that he’s staring at you, and you find yourself looking away shyly in response to his intense gaze. Somehow, you’d always imagined meeting your soulmate as being a little more...romantic.

Obviously you hadn’t actually considered the awkwardness that would ensue upon two or more random people meeting each other and finding out that they’d been chosen by destiny to be perfect for one another. Then again, the stories focused on the love and romance of it all.

“Erm, well. Like I said earlier...we’re soulmates. Or like...I’m pretty sure we are. I err, I grew up on Earth. In Old Korea. And there’s still stories about soulmates back there, they’re not as popular anymore and they’re almost gone everywhere else but my mom always told me about them. She was convinced that the reason I couldn’t see in colour was because I was meant to get off Earth because someone was waiting for me out there.”

“What if your soulmate had been on Earth though?” Hoseok interrupts, looking thoughtful as he leans back against the bench and you pause, considering that. You’d pondered this a few times yourself over the years, but she’d been so adamant and desperate for you to leave that you’d pushed it away every time.

“Well...she might have just been telling me it. I mean, whatever you’ve heard about Earth...the reality is ten times worse. No mother wants to try and keep their kid on that hell planet anymore. So maybe she was but, I believed her. I used to read the stories all the time, of people finding each other through soul marks or just accidentally coming across each other. Two people who fate had decided were perfect for each other, complementary souls who would make each other happy in the long run. Who wouldn’t want that?” Hoseok’s brow rises slowly.

“I don’t know, freedom of choice is a really great thing.” He says dryly and you feel yourself wilt under his tone. You’ve dealt with Taehyung for long enough to understand where this is going. Hoseok thinks you’re being outrageous, having all these wild claims. Understandable, but it doesn’t stop the pain in your stomach when you think that it probably means he’ll leave.

“Yeah…” Trailing off, you look down at your hands and simply watch as you play with your fingers nervously, wondering what you’re meant to say. Anything is going to sound crazy to him and you’re trying to think of things that won’t send him running.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I just...this is all a little overwhelming and I get the feeling you’re understanding more than me. So please, continue. I’ll be less of a dick.” With those few sentences, you can already hear the centuries of high class breeding that has gone in Hoseok. Because there’s no one on Earth that would’ve been that polite about just potentially causing offence.

“It’s...it’s just. It all sounds so silly now I’m saying it out loud and you’re right. There’s no choice involved which makes it bad, right?” Looking at him, you give him pleading eyes but he has no response for you. “But I just...I’ve spent all my life looking in black and white. I used to watch the spaceport out of my bedroom window and wish I could see the stars, see the universe in the same colour everyone else did. And my mom told me it's because I have someone out there, someone who will make me happy and who will love me.”

Pausing, you swallow before shifting slightly to look at him.

“You have to understand. I can’t even begin to describe Earth to you, how bad it is. I made it here and...I can’t even begin to say how low my chances were. But I did. I just...I really believe that you’re...my soulmate. As stupid as that sounds to you. I’ve always felt like I needed to leave Earth, that I had to leave Earth. And I always wanted to come here to New Seoul. I thought it was just because I thought I’d have an easier time you know? Old and New Korea, it’d be similar. But when I made it here, I knew that I had to work to sustain myself and I picked here...like I just felt it was right for me. That probably sounds weird and stalkerish, huh? I just...looking back now, it feels like everything in my life has-”

“Lead to you a little café off the campus of New Seoul?” Hoseok says, his voice is carefully neutral and you look at him with surprise. You hadn’t expected him to say anything and he sounds strange. His expression is odd too, almost thoughtful as he stares down at the path.

Slowly you nod, even though he isn’t looking at you but you feel the need to let him work through whatever his thoughts are. And then he lets out a snorted laugh, shaking his head as he gives you a lopsided smile.

“You know, I thought you were full of shit in the café. I mean sure, I didn’t have any other explanation as to why suddenly I was seeing colour but I thought I’d let you talk. Even if I was sat here thinking ‘what the fuck is she on about? Soulmates?’. And then you kept talking and...it made sense,” Pausing, he glances over to you. “I’ve always been obsessed with Earth. The history and the culture. I actually wanted to do an Earth Studies major but my parents would’ve killed me. I didn’t really know why I was fascinated with it, not when everyone knows it’s one of the worst planets in the galaxy. But I just...absorbed everything I could about it. My mom was terrified that when I was eighteen that I’d run off there or something.”

Hoseok laughs at that, his face breaking into a bright smile as he glances up at the astonishingly blue sky. There’s a moment where he stops talking, his eyes simply wide as he watches it in wonder and you can’t take your own eyes off him. The smile of pure joy and wonder on his face makes your heart twist a little and you rub at your chest.

“I’m not that stupid. Besides, I got to choose a university and I just...wanted to come here. Had to. And then when I finished my degree, I felt like I should stay. Do a postgrad course. This makes a lot of sense now.” 

Chewing your lip, you wonder what to say to him and shift nervously, hands clasping and unclasping as you run through options in your mind. Was he seriously saying that he’d experienced the same urges that you had throughout life? The obsession and desire to go somewhere else with no real knowledge as to what was pushing it? Was it really the bond between you?

“I just thought I kept going to the café because I thought you were cute.” He says it so casually, like he’s commenting on the weather, that you don’t even realise what he’d actually said. And when it finally processes, your eyes widen almost comically.

“What?” You blurt out and Hoseok gives a small smile, looking a little awkward as he rubs the back of his neck before letting out one, long breath. This wasn’t where you’d been expecting it to go at all.

“I mean...are you really surprised? If what you say is true...and we’re...soulmates, then it kinda makes sense. From what you’ve said and what I just told you, it seems like we’ve had something trying to get us near each other even if we didn’t know what that was. So if whatever that was, was powerful enough to make you move to a different planet...then I think me liking you is the easy bit really.” Hoseok shrugs slightly, shifting to face you a little better before holding out his hand.

Pausing, you stare down at the palm facing you and lick at your suddenly dry lips. This is both exactly how you’d imagined this scenario going but also nothing like you’d imagined it all at once, and you’re not entirely sure how to feel about it all.

“Don’t you think it’s weird though? I mean...I just came up to you and started spouting all this soulmate bullshit and yeah sure, if I did this back on Earth to someone then they’d probably believe me easily because we believe in the stories more back there but you don’t. Not here. And you have no choice, like you said. I mean, you’re right, it’s not fair really. I don’t like...want you to feel pressured into anything because that’s not right.” You’re babbling, and you’re well aware that you’re babbling. There’s an inkling inside you that tells you that Hoseok also knows that you’re babbling, because he’s giving you a distinctly droll stare.

“Okay, Y/N,” You’re shocked that he knows your name but then remember the badge on your shirt that portrays the letters proudly in white holograms on a black background. “Yes, you’re right. I don’t think it’s fair, but then it’s also not fair for you. And it’s all a little fantastical and strange. But I have heard of the stories. I don't know much about them but I’ve heard of them. I was obsessed with Earth remember? Plus...both of us started seeing colour the moment I touched you. And even though you’re telling me all these things that sound pretty crazy and I’m more than a tiny bit bewildered by it all...sitting here with you is just about the best thing I’ve done all week.” 

Silence fills the air between you after that statement, expectant from him and stunned from you. You suppose that you should be thankful that he’s not running away from you as fast as he possibly can but you’re just...confused as to why he’s so laid back about it all.

And also shy, because this man who you’ve been crushing on for a long time, who is your soulmate, has admitted to liking you in turn. So much that he thought just sitting with you was good.

“Look, I could freak out and start screaming about how you’re talking bullshit and then walk off. I could avoid you for the rest of my life whenever I see you. But I don’t want to do that. I really, really don’t want to do that. I considered it while walking here, but something in me...something really deep in me shied away from that idea. So I’m going to roll with the punches. It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard I guess. And I mean...it costs me nothing to try, right?” 

Staring at him with wide eyes, you feel your mouth open and close dumbly. Finally, you jerk your head away and swallow, wondering what you’re meant to do now. You’re not surprised to realise that you have absolutely no idea, so you tell him so.

“I don’t know what to do now. I mean...the stories never really talked about...this,” You gesture between you both. “So I mean...what happens?”

Hoseok lets out a cheerful laugh, the sound surprisingly high and infectious as it causes you to smile along with him. Looking at you, he carefully reaches out and takes your hand. His skin is soft and warm against yours and it’s almost like everything in your body focuses on that touch.

Glancing back at him, you wonder if he’s feeling the same because he can’t stop staring at your hands as well, his brows knitted slightly as a curious expression paints itself on his face. He snaps out of it quickly, turning his eyes to your own face before giving you a slight smile.

“Well...I guess this is probably the part where we get to act like normal people and just...go on a date? Maybe not somewhere too colourful right now but...I like the sound of that?” You can tell that he does by the hopeful tone to his voice and your mind does a leap of joy at it, amazed that he’s not only taking this all pretty well but seems to be pretty excited at the prospect of dating you.

So you smile at him sweetly, turning your hand until you can thread your fingers with his own before nodding slowly. “I like the sound of that too. So...where to?”

-

Two Months Later

You didn’t have a huge amount of experience when it came to dating. That was something that you had already been well aware of upon moving to New Seoul and something that had been made abundantly clear to you in the last four years. You’d never dated anyone back on Earth, too busy studying to try and pass your exams to even notice if anyone had potentially been interested in you.

Learning to date here had been interesting as a result. Despite the fact that you’d been well aware of how others dated back on Earth, even if you hadn’t been part of it, you’d quickly discovered that dating was very different here.

For starters, people were far more sexually liberated. Which was odd, because you’d had thought that the backwater of Earth would be. But while you’d entered into the world of sex thanks to Taehyung, who you’d not been surprised about at all given where he came from, it had surprised you to discover that New Koreans were actively having sex.

Which meant that you’d been on a few dates with people only to discover that sex on the first date was very much normal here. Hell, sex before the first date. It made you feel like a prude because on Earth it just...wasn’t done. 

People avoided sex because there was always the risk of a baby. And babies were not wanted on Earth, for many reasons.

But here, the population could withstand any number of children. New Korea had only just over a billion people on the entire planet, despite being founded centuries ago. It was something that you’d only really just gotten used to.

Other strange things were that people actually went out on proper dates. Like...to other places and would spend money on things. From what you knew, a date on Earth was probably just a virt-real session in a cheap arcade in some back alley. Here though, they were whole day experiences.

Getting used to that had been a learning experience, but you soon discovered that experience hadn’t prepared you in the slightest for dating someone like Jung Hoseok.

His level of wealth was something you couldn’t even begin to compare, and his own friends must be of a similar enough status because he kept making accidental mistakes with you. Your first date had been a prime example of that.

Brushing your hands down the dress you’d bought, you admired it once more in the mirror of your bedroom. It was a pretty design, one of those timeless classics that had existed for centuries now with the body tight on your waist before gently flowing out around your waist. It stopped above your knees while the top of the dress was cut into an elegant shape, thick straps over your shoulders that became slim points, connecting to the bodice and the material cut into a shape that enhanced the shape of your breasts. 

Taehyung had agreed that it was the perfect shape for a first date, especially given that Hoseok had told you that he was taking you somewhere that had a dress code. Your feet were currently inside some dainty flat shoes with black ribbon that criss crossed up your calves. 

The dress was particularly nice because it was made of a special material that allowed it’s wearer to change the colour or pattern at will. A useless dress for you before, but now you got to see colour in its full glory and you wanted to revel in that.

You’d designed to go for a simple black today but Taehyung had encouraged you to make the flowing ends sparkle like the night sky, the tiny glittering specks becoming more sparse the higher up the dress they went.

It made a beautiful effect and you’d thanked Taehyung profusely.

Hoseok had apparently really liked it as well when you met up an hour later. You’d met up at a designated spot in the centre of New Seoul, the neon lights surrounding you making your dress shimmer in a beautiful array of colour that you’d never even seen before that had you feeling like the walking embodiment of a galaxy. His eyes had lit up when he’d met you, his own body attired in a classic black button up with matching black slacks. 

It had taken a lot to keep your jaw closed at first, eyes almost bulging at the sight of how unbelievably attractive he’d looked. You’d been shy after that, convinced that fate had it wrong and that there was no way he was your soulmate. 

Hoseok had been a little awkward as well, his movements almost stiff while his speech had been a little stilted. That hadn’t stopped him from complimenting you though, his smile genuine and eyes warm as he’d looked you over repeatedly.

“You look beautiful. The dress is...I’d say it’s possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve seen but then I’m looking at you so…” That had made you snort with laughter, the sound not attractive but you’d been unable to stop yourself as your hand had moved to cover your mouth.

“Wow...use that line on all the ladies Mr Jung?” His cheeks had flushed red at that, embarrassment making him look elsewhere while his fingers had played with each other in the classic body language of uncertainty. It had made you feel bad, so you’d reached out to him and grasped one of his hands carefully, pleased when he’d instantly shifted to thread his fingers with yours.

“So where are we going?” Had been your next words to him, the gentle smile on your face trying to let him know that you weren’t trying to make him feel bad or stupid. He’d given you a relieved expression in response and a small part of you had marvelled at the fact that already you could read him so well despite the little amount of time you’d spent together.

Hoseok had led you through the streets then, happily pointing out various stores or bars that he’d been to while at university and regaling you with stories of incidents that had happened. One clothing store had been the unfortunate recipient of Hoseok and his best friend, Jaebum, when they’d been drunk after a night out.

Apparently he was now banned from it, something that had caused him much embarrassment. A throwaway comment had let you know that it hadn’t pleased his parents either, but he’d danced away from that topic quickly.

You’d reciprocated his stories with the few you had of your own. The street where Taehyung had run the whole length stark naked after getting absolutely wasted on Mei Long, an infamous spirit with a high alcohol content made using native plants on Yangzhou. It’s name came from ancient China on Earth and meant sleeping dragon. 

Needless to say, you’d discovered why when Taehyung had ripped his clothes free and proclaimed himself to be a spirit of the universe who no one could hold back. It had taken you, Chaeyoung and one of his girlfriend’s at the time, Jisoo, ten minutes to chase after him and finally get him back into his clothes.

Thankfully, this had been at three in the morning and there’d been no one in that particular area which meant there had been around to call the police on him. 

Hoseok had laughed hysterically at that, telling you that he definitely wanted to meet Taehyung properly and get a look at the guy who’d decided to drink a whole bottle of Mei Long. You’d given him a look, asking him if he’d ever done that before.

He’d become very innocent looking after that, but you’d been unable to query him given that you’d apparently arrived at your destination. The building was huge, one of the skyscrapers that dotted the very centre of New Seoul and you stared up at it.

“This is the biggest building on the entirety of New Korea.” Hoseok said with a smile, leading you inside and taking you to the elevator. It opened immediately with a soft ding, the holographic numbers above not telling you how many floors there were.

He input a number into the datapad beside the doors and you watched as the numbers zoomed past, a funny feeling in your stomach as it moved upwards at an incredible speed. On floor 120, it finally stopped and you both walked out to find a beautiful restaurant that had a classic feel to it.

There were no holograms here, no neon or anything. Just subtle lighting that was almost yellow in colour, giving everything a look that made it all feel old somehow. It also felt very romantic, with the tables far apart from each other and each table having a traditional wax candle burning away in the centre.

You’re so busy taking in everything that you don’t even notice when Hoseok gives his name to the woman dressed in an elegant uniform. It’s only when you’re being led to a table by the windows that you realise this is where your date is going to be.

But you can’t find it in yourself to say anything as you take in the jaw dropping sight of New Seoul before you. The windows are floor to ceiling and stretch from wall to wall on both sides of the restaurant, only the bar, kitchen and entrance exempt. New Seoul glitters and shines in the night, stretching out far below you and you’re almost pressed to the window in amazement at it.

Part of you wonders if this is what Busan looked like when you lived there, but then you realise that it’s so much better than that. As the tallest building, the restaurant towers above everything else and let’s you get the perfect glimpse of your adopted city. The neon signs you’d become so familiar with gleam brightly in the darkness and you admire the way everything looks so beautiful despite all the technology littering it.

Even at this late hour, the buildings still look clean and simple while the city itself looks almost elegant. It’s so unlike anything on Earth and you smile softly to yourself, a warm feeling spreading in your chest as you realise that you truly do consider this place to be home now.

The city turns abruptly into darkness far in the distance and you know that’s because it’s the very edge of New Seoul, the mountain range of Namsan rising into the sky behind it. It had been named by the founders of New Seoul after the mountain in Old Seoul and you thought it was rather fitting that it still towered over everything centuries later.

“Wow, it’s incredible.” You whisper softly, unaware that the waitress has left and that you’re alone again with Hoseok. He’s just watching you quietly though, chin in his hand and a gentle smile on his face as he does so. It’s only when you shift back to look at him that he sits up, the softness in his eyes vanishing until you only think it’s the reflection of the city lights in them.

“Yeah, it looks a lot better in colour.” He admits, grinning shyly and rubbing at the back of his neck. Reaching for the menu that had been placed in front of you, and marvelling for a moment over the soft feel of real paper, you scan over the options with narrowed eyes.

“Do you come here often?” You ask, keeping the conversation going while you try to figure out what some of the food was. It didn’t have explanations on it bizarrely, nor did it have how much anything cost. Half of the names made absolutely no sense to you and you chewed on your lip, probably ruining your lipstick but uncaring.

Hoseok looks up at you awkwardly, shrugging with one shoulder. “I’ve been here a few times. My parents made me come when I was younger. It’s one of the best restaurants on New Korea and I knew the view was amazing so...I wanted to share it with you. So we could both see it in colour for the first time.”

The sentiment behind his desire is sweet and you go warm all over at it, fingers playing with the white cloth napkin that was placed beside an elegant glass. At the same time though, the fact that he’s brought you to one of the best restaurants makes you feel a little uncomfortable.

Combined with the lack of prices on the menu, you had a feeling that this place was probably going to wipe a big chunk out of your savings. The common courtesy for men on New Korea was to pay for the dinner still, an outdated belief that was still somehow prevalent in a society that was remarkably forward with dating.

You would be insisting that Hoseok split the bill of course. It simply didn’t do for you to accept him to pay for it all.

Though you would at least like help on what to order. Other than that, you couldn’t fault him for picking what had to be one of the most stunning sights on the planet to witness, because the view truly was incredible. And you had to remember that he did come from money, so it probably hadn’t entered his head.

It was something you could work on.

After that, you’d admitted to not knowing what the food was and had been instructed by Hoseok on what everything on the menu actually was. Apparently this was all traditional New Korean food, which was amusing to you because most of it didn’t really represent the food you’d grown up with in Old Korea, aka the real traditional Korean food.

A lot of the classic meals here had been adapted from old recipes to incorporate native plants and animal species here or had changed throughout the centuries to accommodate spices and foods brought in from other planets. The results meant that you barely recognised them and when your order of what was the New Korean equivalent of kimchi jjigae arrived, you’d been bemused to discover that it was nothing like what you were used to.

“This is not kimchi jjigae,” You said with laughter, sipping at the soup anyway and enjoying the taste despite that. It was sweet, incredibly sweet to the point that you were almost cringing with only the slightest hint of spice to it. “Where’s the spice?”

Picking up a piece of kimchi between your chopsticks, you ate it carefully and hummed in contemplation. Whatever this vegetable was, it wasn’t what you were used to and you carefully ate another piece.

Hoseok watched you with a laugh, shaking his head and grinning. “It’s been a few centuries, apparently recipes change. Either that or this place is just too fancy. You know what it’s like with restaurants like this.”

He’d said it so airily, so completely unaware that you haven't grown up anything like him. But the innocence with which he says it makes it hard to feel annoyed at him, not when you can tell that he genuinely doesn’t mean anything mean or rude by it.

“Not really. I don’t think they have restaurants like this on Earth. Or if they do, they weren’t in Busan and I could have never gone there.” That stuns him into silence, his jaw audibly clicking shut while red appears once more on his cheeks. You get the impression that Hoseok is mentally slapping himself and laughed, letting him know that you’re not really bothered.

That leads on to a whole discussion about Earth, with Hoseok peppering you with questions about what it was like growing up there and what Earth was actually like. It was hard to describe somewhere so completely destitute and poor to someone who came from a place that was as rich and powerful as New Korea, but you tried for him.

You could tell that he was genuinely interested in your home planet; not only because of his own interest in the homeworld of humanity but because it was where you had come from. He asked you unique questions that you would have never thought of and the time had quickly passed as you had answered him, firing questions back to him about growing up here.

It was during this conversation that you found out that Hoseok had mostly grown up in New Seoul though his parents had often taken him to other cities for months at a time. You got the impression he resented this but despite the subtle querying, he didn’t take the bait and discuss it further.

All you knew was that neither of you had grandparents; your own dying when you’d been a child from what was deemed old age on Earth while Hoseok’s had apparently died before he’d even been born. You presumed from that then that his parents were on the older side, which you found interesting given their position in New Korean society.

Finally though, it was time for the bill and you were surprised to find out that three hours had passed by. You’d eaten all the kimchi jjigae, despite the laughter about how different it was to what you were expecting, and had fully enjoyed the dessert that had followed it. 

The waitress placed the bill on the table, the paper printed carefully with the meals and drinks that you’d both ordered and eaten throughout the evening. It was a novel concept to see paper being used so liberally here and you took it from Hoseok, ignoring his protest.

“I want to pay for half. That’s how we do it on Earth and I know that it’s different here but I-” You stop suddenly, eyes widening as you read the total at the bottom. It’s so high that your brain can’t even compute it for a few seconds and you simply gawp, blinking before frowning. “Is this right?”

Hoseok takes the receipt from you and scans over it, nodding slowly before looking at you. Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed, hands playing with the hem of your dress as you carefully avoid his gaze.

“Yes? It’s right? I mean...is there something wrong? I can’t see anything? And I’m okay sharing the bill, it’s not what I’m used to but I want to make you comfortable.” You wish you could go back in time and slap yourself to stop those words coming out of your mouth, because now you’re going to have to embarrass yourself even more.

For a minute, you struggle to find the words to tell him, shame at your own situation and a sudden hatred of where and how you’d grown up taking over. You’d spent years studying to get here and then years working here when you had, yet you still weren’t good enough. Especially not for him, not for your soulmate.

“Hoseok...I’m really sorry. I...I can’t afford this.” The words are whispered, barely audible and he frowns for a moment. You wonder if he’s not heard you, humiliation rising at having to say it for a second time before suddenly his eyes widen, jaw dropping.

“Oh fuck.” He curses loudly, attracting shocked looks from other patrons. Shoulders hunching, you try to make yourself even smaller to avoid their gazes but it’s Hoseok’s you want to escape from most of all. The way his face crumples into dismay and then pity makes you want to throw yourself out of the damn window.

“Shit. I’m so sorry. I just...I forgot and I wanted to show you this place but I forgot the pricing and-” He’s about to continue, prostrating himself to you from the other side of the table and you can hear the genuine apology in his voice. Not to mention his worry about making a bad impression.

Holding up a hand, you give him a slightly strained smile and sigh deeply. “It’s okay. I...the food was great, the view was amazing and I really enjoyed it. I just...do you mind paying? I’m really sorry.”

“Please don’t say sorry, this was my mistake. My bad. I’m so stupid, oh my god. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything. Fuck.” He lets out a groan, running his hands through his artfully done hair before tugging on the strands a little. It makes him look even more attractive and you hum in amusement at that, despite the little bubble of negativity you’re feeling.

“It’s okay. Honestly. We’ll just...learn from this right? That’s what we’re doing...learning.”

He’d spent the rest of that night apologising profusely, his cheeks bright red in shame and a look of sadness on his face as he chastised for his mistake. 

Hoseok had already admitted to you before then that he’d never even met anyone from Earth, despite his obsession when younger. As such, he hadn’t quite realised just how poor people from there were. After that date, you’d carefully given him more cultural lessons about Earth from someone who had actually lived there.

You had money here, yes. But you didn’t have the kind of money required to sustain those levels of dating.

Thankfully, he’d proven to be a quick learner and had made sure to propose dates that were a little more amenable. Whole days spent running around virt-real landscapes that took you both away to planets you hadn’t even thought of or engaged in full story led experiences. A day at the closest amusement park, the rides there engineered to almost defy the laws of physics. Another day at a conservation park, full of wild animals that were being carefully raised or nurtured back to health.

Some of them had been native to New Korea whereas others had been bred here specifically to repopulate other planets wildlife species. You had both learnt that apparently there were many attempts being made across the galaxy to bring back once extinct Earth wildlife with the eventual hope of repopulating the homeworld of humanity with the animals they’d once killed off.

You’d been a little dubious of the whole idea. People had already messed everything up once and Earth was polluted enough just for humans. The idea of putting all these innocent animals back there to potentially just suffer and die wasn’t good for you, but you appreciated the attempts in the hope of a future.

What had maybe surprised both of you though, had been just how well you got on with each other. You could tell that Hoseok had remained a little dubious about the whole soulmate thing and you hadn’t pushed him on it either. But even you were finding it a little strange just how well you both were interacting with each other. 

The two of you came from wildly different backgrounds and completely different planets. Neither of you had watched the same things growing up, hadn’t read the same things or done the same activities. And yet you’d both discovered so many commonalities already.

Your music tastes didn’t quite align with each other, but they were complementary enough that neither of you complained when you heard something playing that the other loved. Your film tastes aligned perfectly though and you’d both spent more than a few evenings at the retro cinema a few blocks away from the university.

Cinemas were a novel thing nowadays, given the galaxy’s penchant for things immediately. They were mostly just for those who wanted to pretend they were living a few centuries ago when a cinema was the only place you could watch something new. They’d also gained a new life as social places to meet up and hang out with friends and family.

Hoseok and you had watched so many films, from those made right here in New Korea to those from all reaches of the galaxy. They even showed the Ancient Classics from Earth, the home of film.

The cinema has that familiar subtle lighting that makes it feel warm and welcoming while the scent of fresh popcorn, an old Earth staple for this kind of event apparently, flavouring the air. Traditional style posters were hung everywhere, advertising what films were going to be shown in the upcoming weeks and you hummed as you looked over them, sipping on your drink as you waited for Hoseok to come back from the bathroom.

The two of you had been dating for a month now and you were surprised at how relaxed and comfortable you felt with him already. It reminded you almost of your friendship with Taehyung, but far more intense. 

You suspected that Hoseok reciprocated the feelings as well, given that the two of you had been going on ‘dates’ or just enjoying time together at least once every two days. Almost like neither of you liked going longer than that without seeing each other.

By this point, he’d become well acquainted with Taehyung, visiting your apartment frequently. The two of you had done everything from watch entertainment to simply sitting together and reading and even studying for your classes. It felt nice, just to be near him. Relaxing almost.

Unsurprisingly, it had been Hoseok who had introduced you to cinemas. They didn’t have them on Earth anymore, which he’d been surprised about. Though you’d pointed out that even if they did have them, no one could afford to go to one anyway. Or even have time.

But apparently he loved them and was a huge aficionado of the old films from Earth. He’d been surprised to discover you hadn’t really seen any, only really watching the newer stuff that had been released. Which had led to him taking you to this specific cinema in New Seoul which specialised in an authentic and traditional experience.

They even had old style projectors here, which you hadn’t even known still existed. The first film he’d taken you to see had been something called Star Wars, apparently the first in a series that had been hugely popular in the 20th and 21st centuries. Given its age, it didn’t look its best and you’d both laughed over how it treated space flight and so forth but you’d surprisingly enjoyed it a lot.

As such, you’d come with him a few more times since and had watched a wide range of genres with him. Everything from something called Mamma Mia! to Alien, all of it so old that you didn’t even recognise half of the stuff you were looking at. It was like a window into another world, but you loved it and so did he.

Tonight though, you’d be watching something called Jurassic Park. Apparently it was one of the best films from Earth and featured dinosaurs. That had immediately fascinated Hoseok when you’d both read the description. You had been interested too but New Korea had nothing comparable to the dinosaurs of Earth.

“Hey, I’ll take that.” Hoseok says as he comes out of the bathroom, smiling at you brightly as he reaches for the large tin bucket full of sweet flavoured popcorn. You give him to happily, holding onto the drink in a reusable cup and take another sip before gesturing to him as you both walk to the correct screen.

He leans forward and you carefully press the cup to his lips, tilting it just enough for him to drink before taking it back once he’s had enough. The screen is dark when you go in, the generic lighting letting you find your seats in the small room and you listen in happiness at the gentle chatter of the people around you.

You’d been surprised to find that these screenings were very popular here and it never failed to amuse you the fascination people still held for Earth. Particularly given their contempt for it as well. 

Hoseok shifts in his seat, slumping even further and you smile at him. This cinema apparently wasn’t in the actual traditional style with individual seats that were numbered. Instead, it had opted to go for a more casual approach that appealed more to the citizens of New Seoul, it’s one concession to modern day preferences.

Each screen has multiple different kinds of seats available, with some long couches allowing up to four people on them or alternatively, smaller armchairs for those going alone. You always booked tickets for two seater couch, enjoying how comfortable it was and how you could relax completely in your seat to enjoy the film.

It also helped that it let you get a little bit closer to Hoseok, his warmth exceptionally comfortable and soothing to you. You’d even fallen asleep once against him, walking up to his gentle prodding in an hour later and having to steadfastly ignore his amused expression. 

Unfortunately, you’d drooled all over his shoulder. He’d thought it was cute, you’d been mortified.

Today though, he simply held up an arm and gave you a questioning look. Smiling, you placed the cup into the inbuilt cup holder on the arm of the couch before shuffling over, cuddling into his side and enjoying the way his arm felt on your shoulder while he felt so solid against your side.

You both chat for a few minutes, your voices quiet and low as you discuss how your day had gone before the lights dimmed and the screen came to life. Almost immediately you both quietened down, eyes glued to the screen as it went through the usual advertisements for brands and films. 

And then the film began.

Neither of you talked at all throughout it all, both of you completely enraptured in the film that had been released over a thousand years ago. You were in complete awe over the storyline and the magnificent dinosaurs, squeezing Hoseok tightly in fear at the scene with the Tyrannosaurus Rex and the car before pushing your head into his shoulder with the Velociraptors in the kitchen.

It was all over far too soon, with the soaring music that filled your chest signifying the end along with the credits that rolled of people who had long since died. Looking at Hoseok, you grinned at his awed expression, taking a handful of the remaining popcorn and stuffing it into your mouth before getting up.

You both stretched with a groan before exiting, placing the popcorn tin and cup into the relevant recycle bins before quietly heading into the bathrooms. Hoseok was waiting for you outside and he took hold of your hand, holding on tightly as you both exited the cinema and began to chatter about the film you’d both watched.

It had become a tradition quietly to go for a meal afterwards and talk all about what you’d just seen; from analysing the storyline to discussing the effects and acting. Some of the films you’d watched had been truly atrocious, but you got the feeling that what you’d just seen was special.

Sure enough, you’re both sat in a Valerian restaurant half an hour later, the pasta that had been brought with Valerian’s from old Italy mixed with the native spices and flavours from their planet being eaten without even properly appreciating what you were eating.

“Was it just me, or did the dinosaurs still look really good? I mean...the film’s over a thousand years old but it didn’t look...crap?” Hoseok says, wonder in his eyes as he talks and you nod in agreement.

“I did some quick reading beforehand and apparently they used physical props for like the T-Rex, so that was actually real. Maybe that’s why it looked like that? I mean, the dinosaurs at the very start looked pretty awful.” He nods and hums, tapping his finger against his chin before eating some more.

“Makes sense I guess. Though they used physical props in Star Wars and that still looked absolutely shit. Maybe it’s the lighting they used? It was dark often and you can hide a lot in darkness.” 

Shrugging, you took a deep drink of Valerian wine, enjoying the subtle fruity taste of the alcohol before swallowing it. “I really liked it though. I think that’s been my favourite so far.”

Hoseok grinned broadly, happiness radiating from him and you felt a blossoming warmth in your own chest at his expression. Gripping your fork a little tighter, you watched as he nodded, eyes almost sparkling and you wondered if your own expression looked like his.

“Definitely. I can see why it’s been rated so high for so long. Apparently there’s sequels.” He raises a brow at you, the question in both his tone and face and you grin immediately.

“If we finish this quickly...do you want to go watch one at mine?” The question was already defunct as Hoseok was nodding immediately and you laughed loudly, loving how eager he was to spend more time with you.

Not that you were complaining of course…

Today, Hoseok had asked to meet you outside of your apartment in the early hours of the morning. You’d do so with a gentle whine, heart racing a little at the sight of the little smile on his face as it hovered above your PED. He’d promised that it would be worth it though.

And the sight of the silver air car coming to a quiet landing in front of you told you that it probably was. Brow rising, you watch as the passenger side door opens and Hoseok grins at you from the other side. Carefully, you climb in next to him and sit down, pressing the button where the safety harness engages and the door closes.

The interior of the air car is possibly the nicest thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life and it smells clean and fresh. That’s not surprising, given one of the things you’ve learnt about Hoseok is that he’s pretty sensitive about smells and only likes light fragrances. Apparently he really liked the fruit scent that you’d taken to using here on New Seoul, a fruit called peach that you’d never heard of before.

But despite all of that, you can tell that this air car costs money. They’re common here in New Korea, less common than on Earth though but these air cars are made to the highest galactic standards. They produce almost no pollution  and have high safety standards. A law was passed over a century ago that required all air cars to be less than four years old to reduce accidents.

Unlike Earth, where you knew of people with two hundred year old air cars that occasionally stopped working.

As a result though, air cars weren’t the cheapest form of transportation and most people took the excellent public transportation which connected every city, town and village on the planet together.

“I should’ve known you had an air car.” Smiling slightly, you reach out and run your fingers along the black dashboard. It’s sleek and beautiful, soft to your touch but you know if there was an accident that it would immediately swell with life saving foam.

“Oh yeah? Why?” Hoseok’s question is genuine, you can hear the actual curiosity in it and you just stare at him dryly until his mouth drops in realisation. Seeing that gentle flush of pink on his cheeks, you turn away and shake your head slightly in amusement.

“Anyway, where are we going that requires this?” He’d only ever taken you places using the public transportation before, so going somewhere privately intrigued you.

“We’re going to Sejong. I thought you might like it.” The statement is so casual that you almost miss it at first until it finally registers in your head. Then you look at him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“Sejong? You’re taking me to Sejong? Seriously? Why?” That gets a confused look from him, almost affronted and you want to laugh at how genuinely baffled he looks by your suddenly accusatory tone. He takes a moment to formulate a response, hand reaching out to press confirm on the begin button on the journey map holo and you can’t help the small ‘ooh’ of pleasure as the air car rises silently and smoothly.

“Because my family has an estate there, on the beach. And...well I always really hated it when I was younger and I couldn’t see what it all looked like because everyone always talks about Sejong being beautiful. But it just looked like everywhere else to me. So...I want to see it, and I want you to see it too. You brought colour into my life...it’s only fair that I show you one of the most beautiful sights in New Korea.” 

It wasn’t a hugely romantic statement that he’d just said. People might even view it as a little selfish, using you as an excuse to go on an excursion to his family’s estate in one of the most affluent areas in the entirety of New Korea. But the breathlessness that had taken over your chest and the way your heart fluttered told you that you thought it was the romantic thing you’d ever heard.

He wanted to go see what was considered to be one of the natural wonders of New Korea in its full colour glory...and he wanted to go with you. The woman who claimed to be his soulmate and whom he didn’t quite believe but didn’t quite not believe either. 

Your stomach felt a little funny.

“Okay...I mean...yeah. I’d love to.” It was the only thing you could say really. You wouldn’t have turned down the offer anyway, but the fact it was with him made it all the better. The last two months had made your crush on Hoseok grow bigger, the feelings swirling inside you snowballing faster and faster until you weren’t entirely sure what you felt anymore.

Being around him was the most exciting thing in the galaxy to you but it was also one of the most calming and relaxing. He made you smile with his sweet attempts at dating and conversation, his uncertainty with how to act endearing, and made you laugh with his good humour. But he also made you feel safe in his presence, like you could tell him all of your problems and he’d be a vault for you or fall asleep in his presence and he’d protect you.

You’d wondered whether the whole soulmate thing really was real sometimes after finally meeting him, or if you’d just projected hard. It was complicated to comprehend, but you genuinely believed in it. You weren’t sure what he thought, but you’d never met someone you just felt so...right with before.

And so quickly. 

After only two months you already felt like you’d been friends for a long time while the romance between you both made your stomach fizz sometimes. It was a strange mixture of comfort with excitement.

Glancing over at him, you realise that he’s already looking at you and you pause in surprise. There’s a moment of hesitation from you before he smiles softly, reaching out across the gap that separates your seats and grasps your hand gently. With a movement that’s become practiced over the months, his hands shift until he can lace your fingers together, squeezing tightly for a moment.

“So how big is this estate? The very fact that you can use the word estate is mind boggling to me. The fact it implies you have more than one is even more so.” That gets a laugh from Hoseok now, his head rocking back to rest against the soft headrest behind him.

“It’s...of a good size. And I wouldn’t go around thinking everyone here has an ‘estate’, they don’t. It’s just...my family…” He trails off awkwardly and you nod, acknowledging that with a quiet sigh. Hoseok had proven to be rather reticent about his family and you’d been a little insulted at first, wondering if maybe he didn’t think you’d be good enough with your incredibly low birth status.

But you’d soon realised that it was actually because he wasn’t really sure how to go about it. He’d never actually said that out loud, but the way he danced around conversations that veered too close to his family told you everything. You’d even noticed that he did it around his own friends, whom he’d introduced you to last month.

Quickly though, you’d decided not to push him on it. He would tell you all about it when he wanted to and you didn’t want him to feel pressured or anything. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel pressured, especially when he didn’t pressure you on anything. You were a little curious though as his family dynamics were something you couldn’t even comprehend really.

“It’s okay. So...we’re going to the sea?” You grin at him, causing him to smile back and the happiness in his eyes makes you feel content. Nodding at you, he leans back and lets out a deep sigh. 

“Yeah. I used to go to the Sejong estate when I was younger a lot. It’s one of my favourite places in this world. And I’m aware of my privilege when I say that, but I want you to see it too. You’ll love it, I’m sure.” That has you wiggling in your seat in excitement. You’d seen pictures of Sejong throughout your years here in New Seoul but they’d all been in black and white obviously.

You hadn’t looked at any since being able to see in colour, so you were excited to see what Hoseok had to show you. Particularly if he loved it too.

The rest of the journey to Sejong was quiet after that, the two of you settling down with just your hands holding. You even slept for an hour or so, content in the gentle noise of Hoseok’s music playing over the speakers while he read an e-book. It felt nice to not have to find the need to talk, the contentment of simply being near each other satisfying enough.

Despite joking around with Hoseok beforehand, you really were excited to see Sejong and experience it with him. A small coastal town on the equator of New Korea, it had been named after the ancient Korean King Sejong, the creator of the Korean alphabet, hangul. 

Sejong had originally been founded by the planet’s richest inhabitants four centuries ago, bestowing the name of the famed king upon it. It was considered to be one of the most beautiful places on the whole planet and was populated with the sprawling estates of the oldest and most influential families.

Hoseok had also informed you that it did have a normal, fully working town as well with a population of people who simply lived their lives like any other person. The original founders of the town had built affordable housing for everyone and special laws had been passed to ensure that the price of the buildings never rose. Even now, centuries later, houses still had to be sold at the price that had been specified all that time ago.

It had helped to encourage more growth in the town and a diversity of people from all walks of life, as all new buildings had the same regulations. The proximity to the planet’s richest people made it a popular place for people to live and visit but it had industry had been banned in the area to protect it.

A small beep alerted you both to the fact that the air car was about to land and you sat up, sad that Hoseok’s air car didn’t have windows in it. They were considered a structural safety hazard as there hadn’t been a glass invented that was strong enough to protect an impact that an air car could have in an accident so they just didn’t have them.

Glancing at you, Hoseok grinned before pressing a button once the car came to a gentle halt, the soft sound of the landing gears engaging as they touched the ground. Both doors hissed open and you bounded out, excitedly looking around and not even noticing when Hoseok came up behind you.

His arms wrapped around your waist before he lay his head on your shoulder, kissing your neck briefly before taking in the sight as well. 

An obscenely beautiful fountain made of what you thought was some material like marble took up most of the entrance courtyard, sprays of water shimmering like diamonds as they fell elegantly from a beautifully carved dragon and tiger that were intertwined. The black stone was engraved with hangul and you read it over, noting that they were names.

“It’s all the members of my family. Somehow it became a tradition to engrave the names of family onto the fountain throughout the centuries so...it’s like a living family tree.” The very notion that he could not only trace his family back so far but actually had a fountain with their names on it blew your mind.

“Hoseok...this is...I don’t even know the name of my great-grandmother.” It made you feel almost...ashamed to admit that to him. But while you knew he was rich, and came from an important family, it was another thing entirely to be face to face with it. The house behind the fountain was...obscenely large. A mansion, something you thought was only an image in e-books from centuries ago.

But this was actually a mansion...two stories high and long. So many windows dotted it’s sides, gleaming in the sunlight while the two-door entrance required three steps to climb before entering the entrance canopy. The walls were a beautiful off white colour while the tiles on the roof were a burnished orange, giving it a look that you recognised from images of ancient Italy and Spain on Earth.

The difference was the style of the architecture though. It was a blend of what had once been called Asian and Western on Earth. The house itself, the windows, the colouring and the doors were all clearly inspired by the mansions and houses of old Europe and North America. But the roof itself arched in the elegant lines of old Korea, reminding you so much of the ancient palaces and temples that still dotted the landscape of your home country.

Hoseok sighs gently before kissing your temple, resting his lips there for a moment before pulling away and taking your hand once more. “I’ll give you a tour of the house later...but for now...I want to take you to the beach. And the ocean. I just...please don’t stress yourself about this place. I like to think you know me well enough now to know that I don’t really care about stuff like this. I just want to show you something that’ll make you smile.”

Watching him quietly for a moment, you just smile a little to yourself before letting yourself be led down a gravelled path that was surrounded by vibrant green hedges that bloomed with a whole array of pretty flowers. You presumed that these were likely native to the planet but you couldn’t be sure.

Either way, they were beautiful and smelled just as delightful too. Pausing for a moment, you leant forward to smell one of them and hummed lightly. It smelled like oranges bizarrely, and you frowned in confusion at it.

“Weird right? It’s a flower that smells like a fruit. And what’s even stranger is that the scent changes according to the season. Mom loves it though so she made them put these in when I was younger. Now the whole place smells like them but I don’t mind.” With a little tug, he continues leading you through until he reaches a tall, white stone wall that rises high above you both. 

It looks to go for a distance in both directions and you presume it marks the boundaries of the estate itself. The gate Hoseok opens doesn’t look like anything you’ve ever seen in person before. It looks to be in a traditional iron gate, the metal intricately curled into patterns while the black colour stands out starkly. You like it though, strangely.

“I thought the sea was like...right here from what you were saying.” You say to Hoseok lightly, following him carefully through the small trail that looks to have been worn into the tall grass over years of use. It must be very old, because you can’t imagine many people being here all that often.

“Well...I mean it technically is. It’s just over this little rise. Apparently this was here when Sejong was founded and it makes like...a natural sea wall to prevent any tsunamis. Not that there’s ever been one but...I guess it’s nice to know it’s there. And then we have the estate boundary wall as a defence as well. Though I think that was more to keep prying eyes away. But anyway, I digress. The sea is right here, and you can see it perfectly from my bedroom in the house.” That gets a laugh from you and you push at his side gently, humming in amusement as he lets out a tiny wail and overdramatically pretends to fall.

“I lived near the ocean too on Earth but I couldn’t see it. Not that I’d ever want to. It wasn’t anything interesting to look at. And I wish I could say that was just because of being colour blind but you know...dead ocean and everything.” You say it lightly but Hoseok looks back at you with slight concern.

Even though he knew a lot about Earth thanks to all his self-studying growing up, you knew that he’d been learning a lot from what you’d been telling him. A lot of it had been shattering that idealised image he’d had but at the same time, it had just increased his concern for you as well.

You didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that he felt a lot of shame at the vastly different ways you’d both grown up. But you didn’t want that. Neither of you could have changed your situation back then and you wanted to just focus on the here and now. You’d made it away from there, you were where you’d always dreamed of being and now...now you had your soulmate too.

Finally, the two of you reach the top of the ridge and both pause. Partially, it’s because you’re both a tiny bit out of breath from the small climb but mostly it’s because you’re stunned by what you see.

Carefully moving down, you take off your shoes once the coarse grass meets the fine sand. Moving onto it barefoot, you look down and smile as you feel it squish between your toes, moving beneath your feet and making it a little harder to stand. It feels so soft and warm, so unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

Crouching down, you run your fingers through it and smile as it leaves behind trails, a few grains rushing to fill the gaps. Taking a handful, you hold it up and watch as the perfectly white sand slips between your fingers, falling to the ground gracefully in the gentle breeze of the wind.

You’re so enamoured with the sand that you don’t realise Hoseok is crouching next to you too, just watching you with a fascinated look. It’s only when he pushes some sand over to you, covering your hand that you look at him.

“I thought you said you lived by the ocean?” Nodding, you look at your hand as you lift it up to your face, noting how it seems to stick to you. “So why do I get the feeling you’ve never seen sand?”

“Because I haven’t. The sea is dead on Earth. No one goes to a beach anymore unless you want to risk getting something. And even then, most of the sand beaches are gone. This...this is...beautiful.” Looking up, you take in the astonishing sight before you.

The white sand extends out around a hundred metres before it meets the ocean, the waves lapping against the shore lightly. White foam bubbles at the lip of each wave, extending out as it slides along the sand before sinking back out and awaiting the next wave.

Jogging forward, you note that it’s not as blue as you’d expected. Or at least, not as blue as you’d seen in the photos that you’d looked at over the last two months. The sea closest to the shore is crystal clear with the slightest hint of an almost green shimmer to it, letting you see directly to the shells, stones and driftwood that dot the ocean floor. 

Moving further away, it deepens into an exquisite green that’s so light and so unique. It reminds you of the colour ‘seafoam’ that you’d looked up on the colour charts when you’d gone home the first day after properly meeting Hoseok. You’re not sure you’d ever be able to replicate the colour here.

This astonishingly beautiful green slowly turns into a crystal aquamarine as it gets farther out, deepening until the horizon is a rich and luscious navy against the clear and clean blue of the sky. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen anything so...magnificent. 

The ocean here isn’t a stretch of land though, and you note with awe that it’s more like a bay. White sand circles around in a wide arch and you take in the sight of the mountains that thrust proudly towards the heavens in either direction. The right side of the bay is heavily forested in luscious green, as if it has a living coat made of emerald leaves that breath in time to the wind.

On the left hand side, the mountains are coated in the same forests, but this side doesn’t approach the ocean gently like the other. Instead, it meets the elegant sea in a crash of jagged cliff sides, their faces bone white as they push back against the ever looming waves. 

Gazing around everything in wide eyed wonder, you turn and look at Hoseok. You’re slightly pleased to see that he’s also looking everywhere with the same awed look as you, finally catching your eye and giving you a smile that slowly turns into a grin.

“Wow. I knew it was beautiful here, it was beautiful even in black and white but this...this is…” He trails off, unsure of what to say and you find yourself nodding in agreement with him. It was easy to see why this was considered one of the natural wonders of New Korea and it boggled your mind even more to know that his family had a whole estate right here. 

The bay was big enough that it didn’t take up a huge amount of space in reality, but it still blew your mind. And you knew that unlike the oceans of your homeworld, this ocean would be in pristine condition because of the strict environmental laws in place.

It was why you couldn’t resist running forward to the water, shrieking with laughter as warm seawater splashed your feet. The very fact that you could do this without any words was amazing but you didn’t pay attention to that, just looking at Hoseok with a bright grin.

“It’s warm! Come here!” You gestured to him but he shook his head, laughing in response as he pushed his black hair away from his forehead.

“I have my clothes on. I don’t want to get them wet.” He said lightly, ignoring the fact that your own leggings were now soaked around your calves as you kicked around in joy. But you pouted at him, sticking your lower lip out far and giving him the biggest puppy eyes you could possibly do.

And you literally saw the moment he gave in. The moment when his resolve died in him. It was astonishingly fast but soon enough he was kicking off his own shoes, placing them next to yours where he’d brought them after you’d taken them off before coming over to you.

He hesitates for a moment at the water’s edge and you grin, bending over and spraying him with water that you throw upwards. The yelp he lets out makes you laugh even harder, but not as much as you do when he does it straight back to you.

That starts a whole water fight between the two of you, throwing water that glitters in the sunlight at each other until you’re both drenched and tired. Heaving a breath, you let out a breathy laugh as Hoseok moves over to you, the water up to his stomach now.

He cups your face in his hands, smiling down before kissing you quickly. “So...how do you like the sea?”

Twisting your lips, you think for a moment before wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. Pushing up on your tiptoes, you kiss him once more and enjoy the way your stomach almost buzzes in content delight at the sensation of his lips against yours.

“Amazing. I could live here.” You say once you pull away, admiring the way his sun makes his skin almost glow golden from where it reflects against the water on him. His hair is plastered to his head, the strands an inky black and you reach up to gently move them away.

“I’m glad you like it.” He whispers and then he’s kissing you again. Only this time, he reaches down and grasps the back of your thighs, encouraging you to jump. Even if you weren’t stronger than him because of your Earth heritage, the water adds a buoyancy that allows you to feel lighter than ever. Squeezing your legs around his waist, you wrap your arms around his neck and simply enjoy the sensation of making out with him in this beautiful place, the water warm against you while the sun beats hotly onto you both and the gently crashing of the waves make the most perfect soundtrack.

It’s something you never could have even imagined back on Earth and the thought makes you grip him a little harder, not wanting to let go of him in case this all just turned out to be a dream that would break your heart. He doesn’t complain, just lets out a quiet groan into your mouth and squeezes your thighs a little harder.

Hoseok has been good for the last two months. Despite the common prevalance of sex in dating here, he’s understood the differences between you both more than you thought he would. Your shyness around sex with new people was still there and you hadn’t liked the idea of jumping into that with him. 

Especially given you were confident he was most definitely your soulmate. You didn’t want that fact to pressure you into something, no matter who he was. What you’d wanted to do was get to know more of him and his personality before any of that and let him do the same for you.

And so you had. He hadn’t complained or even tried to insinuate it, not after you’d told him the differences between Earth and New Korea dating culture. Instead, he’d been respectful and told you that he’d wait until you were okay with it all.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t want to sometimes, even though you hadn’t felt entirely ready. He was your soulmate and you did feel a deep and intense sexual attraction towards him. Sometimes the tension between you both was so strong that you could cut it with a knife. You knew that because Taehyung had complained about it whenever Hoseok came to your apartment.

He’d pointed it out and said that every time, he had to go to one of his partners for an intense session because of how turned on he became because of the untouched attraction between you both. You’d just laughed at him at the time, but you’d also felt grateful to know that Hoseok desired you as much as you did him.

Right now though, you’d admit the ocean wasn’t the only reason you were wet, but you didn’t want to ruin the sweet and romantic moment you had going with him.

And you were glad that you didn’t, because you both spend the next ten minutes simply...enjoying each other and the tranquility of everything. The way he feels against you, the way he tastes, the way he smells and some part of you, deep down inside, relaxes. As if you’d finally, finally come home.

It all sounded silly and stupid, you knew people would laugh if you said it out loud but it’s the only way to describe how you feel around him. Home.

Finally though, you both separate and wade out of the sea, holding hands and laughing as you occasionally spray each other with kicks of water. How could anyone think soulmates aren’t real when you feel so comfortable with him so fast? As if you’d always known each other.

He hadn’t said whether he felt these same things, but he seemed to enjoy spending time with you or just talking to you so you thought he probably did. It was...nice, to know that there was someone who enjoyed everything about you.

The two of you walk a little along the beach before finally sitting down. You grimace slightly from your wet clothes and the way the sand seems to stick even more to your skin now, making Hoseok chuckle lightly before he sits a little closer to you and wraps an arm around your waist.

Slowly, you rest your head on his shoulder and inhale deeply before letting it out just as slowly. The two of you are quiet for a few minutes and you just take a moment to enjoy it all; the peace and tranquility that comes from him for you alongside the calm that nature provides in this exquisite place.

Finally though, you ask him the question that’s been festering inside you for the last month. You’re afraid of his response, but you know that you need to ask.

“Do you...do you believe in soulmates now? Do you think this is moving too fast or anything? I...I really…” You trail off, body warming in embarrassment as you wonder how on earth you’re meant to tell him your feelings. It’s only been two months. That’s far too fast to tell him that you love him, right?

“I don’t think we’re moving fast. You’re not moving fast if it feels right. You’re moving at exactly the pace you need to. And...yeah. I do. I can’t not, not after the last two months. Besides the fact that I actually get to see everything like everyone else does...the thought of not being around you physically hurts. In a way that’s never happened with anyone before. Being with you feels like-”

“Like you’re home.”

He tilts his head to look at you and you lean back, staring straight into those beautiful deep brown eyes that you’ve fallen for. There’s a moment of surprise that you’d said it, but then you recognise the acceptance of what you’ve said in his face as he nods.

“Yeah...home. It’s weird that it feels like that but I don’t think it’s weird I feel like that. If that makes sense?” Shaking your head, you wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze tightly.

“No, no it feels...good. I feel...I feel happy with you.” You get a little choked up at that, the words squeezing your throat tightly and he makes soft soothing noises. His free hand runs along your cheek, stroking gently as he presses a kiss to your nose and then your forehead.

“Hey, hey don’t get upset. We’re apparently living some super romantic ancient bond thing. Everything makes sense when you think of it that way.” That gets a snort from you and you rest your head on his shoulder again, nuzzling closer to him.

“No one will believe us. You know that right? I mean...even you didn’t really believe me at first. Taehyung is still half convinced we’re just having a ‘moment’ or something. If this was Earth then...there'd be a bit of disbelief but that would be it. But here? They’ll just think we’re lying or making up stories. Especially...especially given who you are...and who I am.”

He’s quiet for a moment, running the words through his mind and you hear the caw of birds. Glancing up, you take note of the unusual colouring of them with slight awe. Their wings were burnished gold and red, melting between each other as the sun glanced off them. You knew the name of these, it had been one of the things you remembered reading before.

The bulsajo, the Korean version of the ancient Greek phoenix. It had been named that due to the similarity of colouring and shape, with its long tail feathers helping to give the illusion of fire and warmth. It was even prettier than you’d imagined.

“Did you know that there’s a legend around the bulsajo here?” Hoseok asked softly and you looked at him, frowning slightly. “It’s not really something that would get noted down, just a legend here in Sejong. They’re a bit more common here than anywhere else, but still rare. It’s meant to be that you if you see two of them then it’s a mated pair, and the couple who sees them will stay together through their life and the next, like the bulsajo in the myths.”

Glancing up, you note that there’s two of them playing together in the breeze, their magnificent wings beating to keep them flying while they soar and swoop together. Something inside you gets a little emotional and your voice catches.

“Is that real? Or did you just say it right now to try and make me feel better?”

“Totally real. I spent a lot of time here growing up, you learn some things. One of my tutors lived in town and told me about it. I guess it’s kind of like...our version of soulmates or something? Either way, I believe in both. So it doesn’t matter what other people think, it matters what we think. I don’t care that you grew up poor on Earth, or that I grew up here with all the shit my family has. I don’t care if people think we’re stupid or weird. I know and you know. I spent twenty-three years of my life seeing in black and white. You spent twenty-two. And then I touch you, the girl I’d been crushing on for months and suddenly we can both see? I have no other explanation for that, and frankly I don’t want one. I’m happy with what we have.” Biting your lip, you curl into him a little more and sigh.

“People will think I’m just looking for money or status though.” That has Hoseok snorting and he stretches his legs out.

“Let them think that. It doesn’t matter, we know what’s real. That’s what matters.” Looking at him, you scan over his face intently and see clearly that he’s being completely serious about it. He really doesn’t care what anyone will think, despite the vast wealth and social status gulf between you both. 

Thinking about that too hard makes you feel upset though and you don’t want to feel that. Not right now. Not here with him.

So instead, you just look out across the incredible ocean in front of you. The sun isn’t as high as it was anymore and you wonder how it would look with the blaze of fiery colours that splash across the sky at sunrise will look against the exquisite jewel of the sea. You’re sure it’s probably phenomenal and you try to imagine it already, putting what you’d already see of sunrises against this beautiful background.

And then suddenly, you’re reminded of Busan. Of the grey world you’d grown up in, the heaving city with the dirty streets and buildings. The mountains that had once soared into the sky but were now outmatched by the skyrises that loomed even higher. You had seen the ocean there, known that at once point in its history it too had probably resembled something approaching what you saw here today. But that had been so long ago.

Now that ocean was as dead as everything else around it, a sullen grey that was probably exactly what you had always seen growing up. Your mom hated going to the ocean, even though one of her cleaning jobs had been stationed on the dock there. 

It was a feral ocean on Earth, angry and riled up by the weather constantly. Hell bent on destroying what humans had built in revenge for the pollution they had caused centuries ago which had suffocated the planet. You knew that was just your mind being over-active, but you could believe it.

You’d want revenge on humanity as well.

And it was all your parents had known. You were suddenly reminded of how you’d promised to get your parents off Earth once you had the money and you swallowed thickly, throat tight as hot tears burnt your eyes. Here you were, swanning around New Korea with your soulmate and taking in the sights of one of the most beautiful and exclusive places on the whole planet while your parents were back on Earth, still labouring and toiling in their exhausting existence.

The first tear falls, trailing down your cheek before it’s rapidly joined with another on the other side. Deep pain that you’d pushed down for years, the homesickness now for Earth but for the two people who had loved you so much that they’d given up everything for you roaring to life. They would love it here.

Suddenly, a ragged sob leaves your mouth and you bury your face in your hands as your shoulders shake from the strength of your cries. The startled noise Hoseok makes tells you that he doesn’t understand what’s happening at the moment but he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and rocking you slowly as he whispers soothing words to you.

For a few minutes, all you do is cry out the pain and longing, the desire and guilt that all mingles together when you think of your parents until finally your crying is more stable again. Your eyes are puffy and sore, cheeks stained wet with your tears and you have to wipe away some delightful mucus from your nose.

“I’m sorry.” You croak out, voice breaking slightly. The tears still fall, only quieter this time, their intensity burnt out of you as you take in deep and shaky breaths to try and stabilise yourself. Hoseok’s hand rubs your back in long and slow movements, the feeling so calming and reassuring.

“It’s okay...are you okay? What’s wrong? Is there anything I can do?” His concern is sweet and you smile weakly, wiping at your eyes before resting your hand on his knee. Licking your lips, you wonder how to word it before finally deciding to just jump straight in. You hadn’t explicitly discussed your parents with him before, not wanting to seem so...poor in front of him but now you felt shame for thinking that.

“I just...I wish my parents could see this. Just...all of it. The ocean, the sky, New Seoul. Everything. I wish I could bring my parents and give them a better life than what they had. I promised them I would but I don’t know when that will be. I don’t even know if they’ll be alive then,” You look at Hoseok, his face blurry from the tears and your breath catches in your throat. “My mom is fifty-four currently, and my dad is fifty-six. I don’t...I don’t think I’ll be able to meet my promise to them and I just...feel so guilty about being here and enjoying myself when they’re back there.”

The tears track down your face against, following those that had already come before and you sniff, the sound gross but you can’t help it. Hoseok’s got a frown on his face, not quite understanding.

“There’s still plenty of time to bring them here. You can do it, don’t put yourself down like that.” He starts but you shake your head, interrupting him.

“What’s the average age here in New Korea?” The frown on his face shows that he’s confused, but he answers slowly. He knows, you know that he knows it. With parents as influential as his, there’s no way he doesn’t. New Korea has a higher life expectancy than normal, with a woman living on average one hundred and thirty one years. Men live an average of one hundred and twenty nine years.

“Earth is sixty-four for a woman. Sixty-four Hoseok,” Your face crumples as you say it out loud finally, a sob choking in your throat. “According to the average she has ten years left. How am I meant to bring them here in 10 years? My dad has even less and he already has issues. They’re going to die in that shithole without ever getting to see anywhere else. Without getting to see a blue ocean or a blue sky. Never getting to breath air that isn’t polluted, go into a building that isn’t dirty and falling down. Never get to eat fresh meat or have fresh, real ice-cream. None of that. Because they spent their entire life working to get me here.”

Sniffling, you wipe at your nose once more and try to take a calming breath. You can tell that Hoseok doesn’t really know what to say, but you didn’t expect him to honestly. What could he say? He truly had no idea what life was like on Earth. Growing up there was one thing, but you’d escaped at eighteen. You were never going back. But they were never getting out.

“I’m sorry. I...I wish I had an answer for you. Some...some way to resolve it. I’d offer to pay but I get the feeling you wouldn’t really like that.” Looking at him, you shrug weakly and give him a limp smile.

“It’s my mom and dad. My only family. I think I’d do just about anything but that would definitely reinforce the idea that I’m just with you for your money. And...I’d feel too guilty towards you. That I’d have a debt to repay already. It’d make me feel like I was using you too.” Before you can even say anything more, Hoseok is shifting to face you properly.

“Okay, I’m going to say this nicely. You’re not with me for my money, and even if you are then I guess I’m an idiot because I don’t care. I offered this, you didn’t ask. You’re even turning me down. I have money Y/N, you know that. We both know my family probably has more money than sense and we don’t need it. Bringing your parents here? That’s probably the nicest thing we’ll do in years.” He sounds so honest and stern that you can’t help but pause, eyes tracking every minute expression of his face to see if he’s being truthful. 

And surprisingly, you get the sense that he is. Hoseok would probably transfer that money to you right now if you asked, but the shame and pride you have whirring inside you stops you from doing that. Instead, you just look down at where he’s taken your hand, uncaring if it’s covered in snot and tears.

“Your parents might not approve of that.” It wasn’t cheap moving someone from Earth to New Korea. Your flight had been paid for by a travel grant. Not to mention then they’d have to find somewhere to stay. They had no money saved up and they might not even be fit enough for jobs here. But it was still tempting. So tempting.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this...but I don’t really care what my parents think. My parents are...well they only really cared about themselves and their image I guess. The Jung name is the most important, you know? They cared about politics and making sure they had influence. I drove them up the wall when I showed zero interest in any of their stuff. Did my degree cos they wanted it and I couldn’t be bothered to argue with them if they were letting me go to New Seoul. This estate is nice and all but...it’s not really that nice when you never see your parents. They always had business to attend to, events to plan, events to go to, work to do or just...plain not caring about me.” You squeeze his hand, distraught at how callous they sound. Even though you’d grown up in the backwater of Earth, you knew that your parents would have died for you if they’d had to.

“They’re older by New Korea standards for parents. Too busy having social lives and influence I guess. Kids would have interrupted that. And then suddenly they realised that they had no heir so they tried for five years. Natural and artificial until finally...baby Hoseok arrived. And then they just couldn’t get pregnant after that. I was it. All they had. They wouldn’t even consider adoption. A Jung that’s not in the bloodline? Not acceptable. So yeah, I grew up being the family disappointment because I didn’t want to do what they did but they couldn’t turn me down or throw me out. Can’t disown me because then the family name dies. I’d enjoy getting stuff out of it if I didn’t feel like it was such a heavy burden.” 

He’s not looking at you now. Instead, his gaze is focused firmly out on the horizon and your heart clenches when you notice the bleak expression on his face. Now you understand why he’s never liked talking about his family.

You couldn’t even begin to understand his feelings towards his parents or the society he’d grown up in, but at the same time he couldn’t understand yours either. Which made you both kind of perfect in a way, as it meant you were both bridging the gap between each other’s worlds. 

“I think you’re perfect.” The words are a little limp, quietly spoken without you even meaning to but you can feel the honesty from deep within you as your grip tightens on his arm. It makes him smile though, no matter how lame it sounded and he kisses your forehead affectionately.

“Thank you. I think you’re perfect too,” He quietens momentarily, looking down and playing with the sand before taking a deep breath. “These last two months have been amazing. For once, I feel like someone likes me for just me. Not my family name or money or influence. Just me. Jung Hoseok. I feel like I could be the poorest person on this planet and you’d still look at me that way.”

“Because I would. You look at me the same way and I was the poorest person on the planet when I arrived. I came from nothing and I arrived with nothing really. Just some clothes packed up in an old bag that my parents had managed to scavenge from one of our neighbours and a pocket full of credits that they’d given me. I won’t lie that the idea of financial stability is attractive but...I’ve been in poverty before. Poverty to the levels no one understands here. I wouldn’t be happy if I was back there, but I’d at least be happy to have you.” That makes Hoseok make a quiet noise before he’s hugging you tightly, pressing overly exaggerated kisses to your head in an effort to lighten the mood and you can’t help but giggle as he rocks you from side to side.

“You can’t say things like that. It makes me feel all funny and then I’m definitely convinced that soulmates exist because there’s no way they don’t when you’re saying something that deep to me so soon and all I can think is to make heart eyes at you.” Snorting, you push his face away with one sand covered hand and watch in amusement as his expression contorts in disgust, spitting noises being made as he tries to rid himself of the sand that had fallen into his mouth.

The next few minutes is taken over by you both play fighting, getting your still wet clothes even more covered in the fine sand that you’d so loved at the beginning. You didn’t love it as much anymore, but that didn’t matter because you were making him smile and laugh again. The sound and sight filled you with such joy that you felt like you were floating.

It’s when he’s tickling you that you get the urge, laughing loudly at his touch. You get an odd out-of-body experience, like you’re looking at him from outside yourself and you see the most beautiful man ever. His skin is glowing fiercely in the slowly lowering sun while his black hair has highlights of soft brown from the gentle rays, his delicate half-moon eyes dancing in happiness while the roundness of his cheeks is higher than ever from the heart wrenching smile on his face.

If you had to spend twenty-three years seeing in black-and-white, you thought it was all worth it for this one moment. To watch him in glorious colour, so vibrant and full of life, against the backdrop of the jaw-droppingly beautiful vista of jutting mountains, luscious trees, the jewelled ocean and a sky that was beginning to streak beautifully with the rich, warm strokes of nature’s sunset.

“I love you.” It falls from your lips without you even realising it. Those three words, three syllables that mean something so deep and intense that has been said for centuries in hundreds upon hundreds of different languages across hundreds of planets and billions of people. Words that portray your feelings and yet can never adequately get across what you truly feel deep within, the well of sheer and intense emotion that still feels so young after only two months and yet so old that it almost makes your bones ache.

Hoseok stops moving, his face shocked for a second as his jaw drops open. But then you spot those sweet dimples indenting themselves in his cheeks, the way his full, pink lips begin to curve into that beautiful heart shaped smile that you’ve fallen for so quickly. The happiness that had been present in his eyes turns quickly to pure and unabashed joy. 

And then he’s kissing you, those lips soft and gentle against your own yet you feel the powerful force of his own emotions behind them. He pushes you backwards gently, the sand cushioning your body as he lays next to you, his torso leaning over just enough to keep the kiss going and you sighed into it, running your fingers through his sea salt encrusted hair gently. 

There’s no time wasted from him as he dips his tongue into your mouth quickly, the movement familiar after so many makeout sessions that your dates often devolved into. One hand cups your face so gently, his fingers stroking your skin tenderly and you suddenly feel the urge to cry at everything. Like the emotions and feelings are all too much.

Almost as if he recognises that, he lifts his head from you, the sound of your lips separating almost audible despite the crashing waves. Opening your eyes, you take in the sight of him in so much beautiful, luscious colour that only he had brought into your life. Lips that were swollen from the kiss, flushed a deep pink from the movement while the chocolate brown of his eyes has darkened as his pupils widened.

“I love you too. And I don’t care if anyone thinks that we’re rushing or any of that. I believe you, with this soulmate thing. I really do,” His thumb runs along your cheek gently and his eyes dart all over you. “I’ve never felt as at peace or as happy as I do with you. Might sound like a drama, but it’s true.”

“I get it. I do.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you give him the biggest smile that you can only hope shows even half of the pure ecstasy and joy that lights you up from within. There’s a moment’s pause before you’re simultaneously pulling him down while leaning up, meeting his lips once more in a kiss that you’ve grown addicted to.

At that moment, he moves to almost lay on top of you, the sand shifting beneath you as he does so and you gasp when it shifts enough to cause his hips to slide against yours firmly. It wouldn’t bother you normally, but this time you can feel that Hoseok is as happy and excited as you are.

Almost immediately he’s jerking away, eyes wide with worry as he holds his palm out in a calming gesture. Chest heaving ever so slightly, he wipes at his lips before reaching out and resting a hand on your knee. Despite everything, you don’t even hear him apologise as your eyes are focused solely on his groin.

It may be the 32nd century and clothing material may have been drastically improved over the centuries but they still couldn’t quite make anything that wouldn’t be painful and restraining for when a guy got an erection. Which meant that unfortunately, they still had the telltale tented pants when they were feeling frisky.

Or those awkward moments where they just randomly got hard. 

You knew that Hoseok probably wasn’t bothered about the erection itself. People in New Korea were more sexually liberal as you’d already discussed and those who grew up and lived in New Seoul were even more promiscuous than more rural areas or other cities. As such, you had no doubt that Hoseok didn’t give a flying fuck about it.

But he knew that you didn’t grow up like that and even though you lived with Taehyung, you still got a little shy about it. 

Not now though. Now you wanted him in all the ways possible, not just the soft and tender ways that you’d been experiencing.

“I want you.” You blurt out, looking up at him. For a few seconds he pauses, almost like the words are filtering in his brain but then his eyes widen and his jaw drops. It almost looks like he’s going to protest and you’re fascinated by the concept but then suddenly he’s standing, brushing the sand from his clothes before grasping your hand.

“We may be more sexually liberal here but our first sex is not going to be on a beach in public for everyone to see.” He says sternly and you feel your stomach drop with anticipation while your pussy clenches tightly at the thought. His words are so plain and blunt and you almost whine as he pulls you into a standing position, kissing once more before walking as quickly as he possibly can back towards the estate.

You’re almost dragged behind him, almost falling over multiple times as you struggle to balance properly in the sand. It was the strangest thing really, how it kept moving beneath your feet. A five minute walk on this beach made you feel like you’d run for ten minutes, and you were working with an Earth physique too.

Despite the sexual tension that was now bubbling over, your body hot with desire while his hand grips yours so tightly that you’re positive he’s just as warm with anticipation, you both can’t stop giggling at the way you struggle. Quick laughs are taken over by kisses peppered over your face, returned by you to him whenever he stops and leans towards you. More than once, you wrap your arms around his waist and simply enjoy a deep and delightful kiss, the cooling air rushing past you yet doing nothing to quell the flames of need.

Finally though, you both cross the rise and run towards the black gate that stands out so boldly against the white wall. You’re so enamoured by Hoseok that you don’t even notice the way his family estate rises so boldly behind the tall wall, it’s foundations deep and strong. All you see is Hoseok.

If it wasn’t for the fact that you had hormones racing through you, desperate to get your hands on the delightful body of your soulmate finally, then you might have taken more time to look around the house as he led you through it. Or maybe it was a good thing you’d been too absorbed in him, given the complete disparity in this house and where you’d grown up.

You don’t get to think of it though as soon enough, Hoseok is opening a door on the second floor and quickly pulling you through, closing and locking it behind him instantly. There’s a brief question of why he’s locking the door in an empty house but you don’t get to think of it as Hoseok wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you closer before attaching his lips to your neck.

Almost immediately you sigh in delight, shifting your head back to give him better access as his kisses your sensitive skin. His experience shows clearly as he licks at you before blowing on it, the cooling sensation making you shudder before he laughs and tries his hardest to suck a bruise into you. All the while, his hands are slowly trailing along your skin beneath your shirt, the pads of his fingers soft and gentle yet firm when he grips at your ass.

“Hoseok…” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair before tugging a little, enjoying the whine he lets out before he finally lets you lift his head until he’s looking directly at you. You’re not sure you’ve ever been as turned on as you are right now, staring into an expression of pure lust and desire.

Slowly, you extricate yourself from his grip all the while fully ignoring his grumblings at the loss of you. And in carefully paced movements, you strip yourself of any clothes until you’re standing before him bare, the temperature of the room just warm enough to stop you from feeling chilled. But the goosebumps on your skin aren’t anything to do with temperature, nor the way your nipples peak almost painfully.

That’s everything to do with the hungry look in Hoseok’s eyes, the low growl that reverberates from his chest at the sight of you. You’ve never been this bold with sex before, even with Taehyung for whom sex was the most natural thing in the world. But there’s something about Hoseok that just commands you to move forward, to keep moving and take what you want.

Even now, in your vulnerable state, you feel safe and protected in his presence.

Carefully, you move backwards until your calves hit the tall bed that you’d spotted upon entering the room. It’s in a traditional style, with four dark wood posters reaching up towards the tall ceiling and an impossibly soft looking cover set covering the astonishingly large mattress. Of course a house like this would have a bed big enough to get lost in.

But you don’t care, keeping your gaze on Hoseok’s as you slowly make your way around to the open side of the bed, biting your lip as you crawled up onto the softness and simply kneeling there. Hoseok hasn’t moved once, only his eyes following you and you feel the pure desire for him to touch you.

So you reach out, hands palm up as you try your hardest to bring across your need for him. And he understands instantly, his hands working to throw his own clothes off with a haste that would almost make you laugh if you weren’t so turned on.

Instead, you watch hungrily as luscious golden skin is revealed, taught muscles and a perfectly formed body that makes your mouth water and your pussy clench in lust. Hoseok is taller than you and has the slightly leaner body structure that those on lower gravity planets had. It looked good on him.

He moves over to you quickly, cock bouncing with every stride from how unbelievably hard he was and you lick at your lips, grinning when he threads his fingers through your own. You don’t get to admire him anymore though as he leans forwards, latching his lips onto yours and you moan into his kiss, opening your mouth and letting him have his way with you. It’s nothing that you haven’t both already done before, but it almost feels like a tease of what’s to come, the way his tongue slides into your mouth while his hands tighten on your own has you gasping, thighs clenching together as an almost painful ache takes over between your legs.

You’re almost amused to find out that you’re impatient for him, the need for him to be inside you so strong. None of the other times you’d had sex had ever been like this. While you’d certainly enjoyed it, you hadn’t felt an all encompassing desire to have sex. Until now.

Falling backwards onto the bed, you forget about the disparity between your strengths and Hoseok pulls away from your mouth with a yelp as he almost crashes into you on the bed. What you’d thought had been a gentle, almost playful tug of his hands from you had actually been much stronger than you’d anticipated, your Earth heritage coming through and you immediately begin apologising.

He laughs though once recovered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before trailing slowly down your chest to your neglected nipples. Tongue swirling around one peak, Hoseok peaks up at you playfully, grinning despite what he’s doing with his pearly white teeth on full show.

“Someone forgot how strong they are huh?” He teases, sucking on the bud hard after speaking until you’re whining beneath him, body writhing in a movement that ends up with him perfectly on top of you and between your legs. The hardness of his erection pressing against your stomach is erotic, the heat of it causing more wetness to leak from you as you shift your hips in an effort to try and get him to slip inside.

But he thwarts your attempts, the husky laugh vibrating against your chest delightfully and you can’t help the smile at the sound. His happiness is infectious, particularly given how excited you are yourself. Hoseok doesn’t let you bring him back up though, instead he’s pressing butterfly kisses down your stomach, your muscles sucking in to try and hide them a little.

Despite your need for him and complete uncaring about your body at first, you still can’t deny the tiny voice in your head pointing out that you’re far heavier looking than most girls here on New Korea. Their lower gravity meant they all naturally looked slimmer than you anyway, but Hoseok doesn’t even pay attention to it. Instead he just lavishes your body with kiss upon kiss, focusing entirely on you without a care and you feel yourself relax a little in comfort with his attention.

“Hoseok, you don’t need to. We can just-” He interrupts you with a hard look, his hand moving to push your thighs apart as he finally reaches the place he wants. There’s a moment of stillness before he slowly lowers his face and you feel his tongue press against your pussy’s entrance firmly. He holds it there for a second before slowly dragging it up, the sensation wet and yet so unbelievably amazing.

His tongue is flat as it presses against the hood of your clit, the sensitive bundle of nerves desperate for his attention but he doesn’t give it to you. Not yet. You’re not sure if he’s just teasing you or if it’s because he hasn’t found the spot to make you moan but you don’t care, can’t find it in yourself to care.

“I am not going to just stick my dick in you without any foreplay.” Hoseok says, his tone not allowing for anymore nonsense and you go hot at the steel in his voice. Part of you wants to go against him but you can just tell that you’ll get nowhere. So your jaw snaps shut, instead just watching as Hoseok gives a smirk of satisfaction before dipping his head back down.

It takes only a minute or so for him to actually find your clit with his talented tongue, a minute of him exploring you and taking in your taste before you jerk in pleasure. A deep hum leaves him as you do so, letting you know that he’s pleased himself by finding it and you spend the next few minutes being edged towards an orgasm so wonderfully by his hot, wet mouth.

You’re not sure if it’s because he has the experience and knowledge or if it’s because of whatever bond you have with him as your soulmate, but the pleasure he gives you seems to be double what you normally experience. Each ghostlike touch of his fingers as they dance along your inner thighs feels almost unbearable, each lap of his tongue on your pussy sending jolts of pleasure through your body that are more intense than you’ve ever experienced and you’re almost embarrassed by how slick you’ve become down there, inner muscles clamping in a painful ache around nothing.

“Hoseok please, god please,” You beg, voice high pitched and whiny as you gently tug at his hair. It takes a lot of effort to remember to be careful with him but you do, successfully getting him to look at you. “Please, I need you now. Please.”

He watches for a few seconds before grinning, pressing a kiss to the hair on your mound before making his way back up the bed. Glancing down, you bite your lip at the sight of straining erection, the tip of him flush with colour while a clear liquid drips from him in his excitement. It makes you feel even hotter, even more lustful for him and you’re running your hands along his body, memorising every part of him before you kiss him deeply.

Neither of you makes any effort to stop the kiss, enjoying the feelings and the sparks it generates. Until you feel the head of his cock pressing against your clit, his hips rocking ever so slightly to try and get what stimulation he can from you. Reaching down, you grasp him gently, enjoying the way he groans into your mouth and how his hips push forwards, rutting into your grip.

Squeezing him, you give him a few strokes, fully enjoying how hard he feels beneath your hand, the thickness of his girth and the pure heat of him. Finally though, you direct him to your sopping entrance, so unbelievably wet and slick in preparation for him. As soon as you feel the tip of him push into you, he takes over and surges forward.

Hoseok isn’t as big as Taehyung, but you hardly notice with the pure ecstasy that his cock produces in you. Your entire body shudders violently beneath him, the sensation of him rubbing against your sensitive walls overwhelming in a way you’d never experienced before and your head falls back into the pillow, ragged moans leaving your throat.

He’s not spared from it either, whatever special bond the two of you have that has made you both feel so happy and comfortable with each other apparently magnifying in the heat of sex. It’s unlike you’ve experienced before and you don’t complain when he begins thrusting immediately, the sharp slap of skin on skin loud in the room.

It’s almost drowned out by the hedonistic moans, groans and growls that escape your throats in the desperate pursuit you both have for an orgasm. The familiar tightness in between your legs seems to be bigger and tighter than you’ve ever felt before, stretched almost to breaking point and you heave breaths beneath Hoseok, hands scratching at his back desperately. The pleasure he’s giving you is almost too much, almost too painful for you to cope with and your mind can’t quite work out what’s going on.

“Fuck Hoseok, I...Hoseok...oh my g...uurgh please.” You beg incoherently, unaware of what you’re babbling to him. He’s moaning out your name and curse words in Korean that you don’t even understand, words you’ve never heard before. But you understand the meaning behind them, the pure need and strain in them as he fucks into you hard.

Your pussy clenches around him almost rhythmically, the friction his cock causes as he slides in and out of you in a smooth glide thanks to the obscene amount of slickness you’ve created causing more feelings than you’d ever experienced in sex before. Legs tightening, you almost feel a cramp in your thigh from how hard you’re holding your muscles in your body, gasped moans encouraging him forward.

And then he brings a hand to your pussy, fingers coating themselves in your sticky wetness before he fumbles for a few seconds, looking for something. The way you cry out, body spasming on him let him know that he’s found what he wanted and those talented fingers continue to rub at your clit, quick little circles in a rhythm that has your breath stuttering.

 “Come on baby, come for me. Come on. I know you can.” He whispers into your ear, kissing along the sweat soaked skin there before trailing his lips along your jaw. His hair is jet black once more, only the wetness now has been caused by the sweat of effort and sex. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen a sexier sight and moan, the combination of it all finally spiralling you into what had to be the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced in your life.

For a few seconds, you can’t think even properly, your mind whiting out and your hearing going fuzzy. You momentarily wonder what’s gone on before the blazing heat of your orgasm overloads the nerves of your body, your pussy spasmodically tightening on Hoseok’s cock in a way that has him whining out in dual need and agony. There’s no controlling your strength here, and as the blistering pleasure begins to subside, aftershocks ricocheting through you, you realise that Hoseok’s probably never fucked someone so tight as you right now. 

Sure enough, he comes almost instantly once you begin to wind down, the vice your inner muscles made on his cock too good for him to be able to last any longer. Hips stuttering violently, a deep groan that borders on a growl is dragged from what sounds like the very pit of his stomach, entire body shaking as you feel his cock twitch with each pulse inside you.

Humming in delight, you watch him through tired eyes as his face scrunches up, giving away every single thing he’s feeling. It causes a surge of pride inside you to see it, to know that you’ve caused that and you run your fingers through his hair, messing up the strands. It brings him back to you though, his gaze almost lazy as he finally slows to a halt inside you.

The two of you are breathing heavily, as if you’d just run a marathon in forty degree heat but there’s a feeling of satisfaction in the air. Taking in his face, watching as a bead of sweat track down his temple, you feel more in love with him than ever.

Fully aware it’s probably just the after effects of the sex, the incredibly good sex, you nonetheless bathe in the sensation as he gives you a tired smile. The kiss you both share now is almost sluggish, your energy gone but it feels so incredibly intimate after what you’d just done, with him still buried inside you.

“Fucking hell, if that’s what our first time is like…” Hoseok trails off, pulling out of you and flopping onto his back beside you. That toned stomach you’d admired so much before is breathing heavily, lungs sucking in breath in an attempt to recover from the frenzied workout he’d just had.

Like everything else so far, it had been quick and intense but you already knew that you wouldn’t change it for the world. Rolling to your side, you smile at him before kissing his shoulder and then resting your head on it.

“I look forward to us in the future then.” You tease him lightly, running your fingers along his chest and causing him to shiver. The temperature in the room was perfect before, but now it feels almost cold as you both begin to cool down.

“Lucky bastards,” Hoseok grins, looking at you with mischief in his eyes. “Do you wanna shower? I swear you’ve never seen a bathroom till you’ve seen this one.” 

Pushing up onto your elbow, you raise an eyebrow at him in interest, pursing your lips. “Oh yeah? Big enough for two?”

“Oh baby...how naive you are. Let me educate you in the ways of rich people having way too much fucking money and not enough sense.”

-

Waking up the next morning is the most luxurious thing in the world. The bed is just as unbelievably comfortable as you’d first thought and the pillow beneath your head is so soft that you’re tempted to just let yourself drift back off into sleep.

This is truly a luxury that you’ve never even considered before and part of you wants to ask Hoseok if you can have this bed. Not that it’d fit in your apartment but still.

But what really makes it all feel so much better is the warm presence behind you, the solid arm slung over your waist and the gentle puffs of breath that tickle the back of your neck. Groaning quietly, you stretch and enjoy the way you ache delightfully all over, the slightest soreness between your legs as your muscles relax once more.

The two of you had indeed enjoyed his astonishingly large bathroom and you’d discovered that shower sex really wasn’t as fun as it looked. Taehyung had told you that once but you hadn’t believed it. You did now, particularly given Hoseok had accidentally thrust so hard that you’d lost balance, taking the two of you down onto the slick tiled floor. 

Thankfully, as Hoseok had said, the shower was ridiculously large and so the two of you had been safe from any real damage. That hadn’t stopped you from feeling embarrassed of course, but Hoseok had simply laughed and kissed you, taking the opportunity to enjoy one of the benefits of his family's wealth as he pulled you on top of him.

It hadn’t been the most comfortable sex you’d ever had, but you’d enjoyed it all the same.

You finally understood though what Taehyung had talked about when he’d discussed the honeymoon phase of a relationship because you didn’t want to take your hands off Hoseok. It was like the sex had unleashed a primal desire within you to have him as many times as was physically possible.

Which meant that this morning, you were aching but also feeling exceptionally fulfilled. 

Twisting around, you take in the sight of Hoseok fast asleep beside you. His expression is gentle, almost innocent looking in his sleep and you take him in with unhidden delight. The rays of sun peeking through the gauzy curtains that hang over the large bay windows streak over his face, lighting his skin from within to give him a healthy glow.

Dark hair is splayed across the pillow and you have no doubt that he’s probably going to get up with some serious bedhead. Equally dark lashes flutter slightly as his eyes move beneath his closed eyelids, breath a little faster suddenly as he twitches and you smile as you watch him wake.

Neither of you had slept in a bed together so far. You’d fallen asleep on each other occasionally sure, but that had almost been on a couch or something. The bed had felt a step too far.

You almost understood why now, 

Because you weren’t sure you would ever let him go now that you’d been so intimate with him, now that you’d slept beside him and experienced what a night with your soulmate was like. Even though you were tired, you felt so refreshed and just...happy.

Like he’d somehow rejuvenated your senses and mind. You were positive that if you told Taehyung this that he’d roll his eyes and laugh, telling you that you sounded like some kind of sappy romance writer and that it was probably all in your head.

And maybe it was, but even so. It felt so good.

Bringing your hand up, you let your fingers run along the smooth skin of his rounded cheek, taking in every centimetre of his face while you had the time. His lips were pursed in a pout, their soft pinkness not as swollen as last night when he’d kissed you like his life depended on it.

Gently, you slide your thumb over the softness of his lower lip, enjoying how it felt before you move to his nose, trailing the pad of your finger down the elegant slope of his nose. Lips quirking into an awed smile, you simply watched him as you took in his regal features and felt that familiar bubble of marvel that you’d found him. 

Out of the entire galaxy, with the odds of a whole universe against you, you’d found your soulmate. And he was everything you had imagined and so much more.

“Mmm, if you keep doing that I’m going to have to repeat last night.” He murmurs suddenly, his voice so unbelievably deep and husky from the deep sleep he’d been awoken from. Grinning, you rest your palm on his cheek and kiss the tip of his nose, careful to avoid his breath or let him smell your own.

As much as you love him, you don’t think you’d love the smell of his breath in the morning. Society still hadn’t figured out a cure for that unfortunately.

“Maybe I wouldn’t mind that.” You tease him lightly, thumb stroking and you feel something joyful blossom in your heart as he tilts his head into your hand, shifting until he can kiss the palm of your hand affectionately.

“Oh I would, but we weren’t meant to stay here last night and I think we need to get back. Someone doesn’t have any clothes here.” His eyes open and that, the deep brown dark against the whites of his eyes and you chuckle with a shrug.

Sitting up, you take a moment to stretch once more and sigh in relief at the feel of your muscles relaxing from the stiffness of sleep. True to his word, you were currently as naked as the day you’d been born.

Hoseok had run downstairs last night to get your clothes washed for today, the material stiff at the time with dried saltwater from the ocean. You’d both chosen to sleep with nothing as Hoseok didn’t even have clothes here anymore, a sensation you weren’t used to but that felt oddly liberating.

The covers of the bed slip down to your waist and you exhale deeply, looking over to the large windows with curiosity. You hadn’t bothered to look last night, too enamoured with Hoseok and sex at first and then it had simply been too dark to see anything later.

But now, now you can see it and your eyes widen as you realise what you’re looking at.

Slipping out of bed, you pause for a moment as you feel the vulnerability of your nakedness. Shifting slightly, you look back at Hoseok only to see that his eyes are closed once more. Chuckling to yourself, you move over to the curtains and peek through them carefully.

Hoseok’s bedroom apparently faces the ocean and your jaw drops as you take in the view. It’s the bay that you’d both enjoyed yesterday, the sea shimmering in it’s luscious greens and blues while the deep emerald of the forests on the mountains provide the perfect contrast.

“Holy shit, you didn’t tell me this was your bedroom view!” You say loudly, pushing the curtains aside as you realise there’s no one to see your nakedness. Opening the doors that make up the windows, you push them to the side and lean against the metal barrier that prevents you from falling out and take it all with greedy eyes.

Almost immediately you’re hit with the soothing sound of the crashing waves and your eyes close as you take it in with a smile, the unique scent of the ocean filling your nose as a warm breeze rolls by. You’re not sure that you’ve ever felt so at peace somewhere before than you do here, with the strong mountains and the serene ocean.

“I forgot honestly.” Hoseok’s voice is close and you turn slightly, finding him almost directly behind you. The sun makes him almost look like some ancient god and you feel your mouth dry at the sight of him, his skin so vibrant and the tone of his muscles making you want to reach out and touch him.

Though that’s not what distracts you the most though. No, that would be the sight of a very proud erection jutting out from the dark pubic hair, cock quivering slightly as it fights gravity and your brow quirks up in amusement.

Looking up into his eyes, you ask him the question silently and he just grins, shrugging without a hint of shame or embarrassment.

“What can I say? I’m looking at my very naked, very beautiful soulmate standing in front of one of the most astonishing views on the whole planet. Forgive me for being a little turned on.” Laughing, you don’t protest as he moves forward to you and turns you around so you’re both facing the ocean once more.

His lips press to your neck in gentle kisses while one hand shifts down your body dangerously, meeting the hair that nestles between your legs and dipping beneath. The touch of his fingers against the hood of your clit has you sighing, legs shifting slightly to give him better access and you feel the whisper of a laugh against you.

“I thought we don’t have time?” You ask breathlessly, the ghost of a moan in your voice as he darts his fingers lower, coating himself in the slickness that somehow is already present despite the short amount of time since this started. Maybe it’s just because of who and what he is to you that he has you so turned on so quickly.

“We’ll just make time.”

-

It’s over forty-five minutes later when you both finally get downstairs, now fully clothed and clean again after yet another shower. Hoseok had promised you that there would be food in the kitchen as apparently they had house staff who kept the estate operational at all times in case anyone wanted to come back.

That had made you pause and he’d rolled his eyes, saying it was a family thing that he thought was excessive but he still appreciated it at moments like this. You couldn’t find an argument with that when your stomach rumbled, the two of you realising that you hadn’t bothered to eat much yesterday and so you were both determined to have a big, hearty breakfast to make up for all the...exercise you’d both done.

Following Hoseok down the ridiculously large staircase, you almost walk into him as he stops suddenly halfway down, yelping as you struggle to balance before resting your hands on his back. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when he suddenly speaks and you go cold.

“Mom. Dad.” Without even a word to you, you can feel the tension in his body as the muscles of his back go stiff, his shoulders rising ever so slightly. The anxiety in your stomach bubbles at the realisation that his parents are here, but there’s also a worry about how he’s reacting.

From what he’d told you yesterday, and what you’d gathered previously full stop, you got the distinct impression that Hoseok and his parents didn’t get along with each other. And now you were, in their fancy estate with their only son.

“What are you doing here?” He asks in Korean, the Korean that they use here rather than the one you’d learnt back on Earth, his tone so blunt that you’re pretty sure he could have hammered a nail with it and you cringe slightly. Even you recognised the belligerence in him and you wonder if you’re going to have to be witness to a fight between them both.

That was an alien concept to you, as you’d never witnessed your own parents fight. Nor had you fought with them.

“What are you doing here? Why are you not at the university?” A crisp voice responds, the tone light and feminine yet filled with an underlying steel. It makes your stomach sink to hear it and you swallow hard. “And who is that with you?”

Hoseok stiffens even more if possible and your hands tighten on his shirt, knuckles pressing into his back in simultaneous comfort and concern. He doesn’t bring you out from behind him though, not immediately.

“It’s university mom, not a job. I don’t have to always be there.” It’s confusing to you why they’re being so...harsh with each other. Even with the animosity he harbours towards them, you can’t imagine ever being like this with your own parents.

“What are we paying for then if you’re swanning around the planet like you own the place? And who is that? Who have you brought into our home?” You almost feel sorry for whoever she works with in the education system as you can practically hear the underlying ‘I’m right no matter what’ in her voice. It’s a wonder that Hoseok has grown to be so friendly and warm in comparison.

What’s even more surprising is that you haven’t heard his dad speak at all. Maybe he’s more diplomatic given his career in politics.

“Firstly, I do technically own this place. It’s a family home, not your home solely. And second of all,” He hesitates for a moment before he turns slightly, giving you a small smile that told you so much before he grasps your hand, threading his fingers with your own and squeezing gently before moving to let you be seen better. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N. I brought her here to see the ocean and beach.”

Your first thought upon seeing his parents is that Hoseok got his mother’s eyes and his father’s nose. They’re both astonishingly beautiful, which doesn’t surprise you at all given how exquisite Hoseok had turned out. It also isn’t a surprise given they’re rich and influential. You highly doubt that people like that married those who weren’t equally as beautiful.

Your second thought is that they don’t even remotely look like parents. Which is stupid, because anyone can be a parent obviously. But you just get the aura of them that there’s not a single maternal or paternal instinct in them both. Which given what Hoseok had said about his childhood, makes a lot of sense.

His mother is dressed in a white pant suit, the lines of her trousers crisp with not a hint of dirt on her. Her hair has obviously been dyed a luscious hazelnut brown and there’s a few signs of age hidden beneath the veneer of perfectly done make up. Lines that not even the best medical technology or make up can get rid of without it looking artificial.

She’s quite possibly one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen but she’s also one of the most intimidating. Her stare is as cold as ice, those red lips turned down at the very edges in disapproval as she scans over your body slowly. An elegant white bag that is probably made out of real leather is hung delicately over her arm, understated in a way that made it clear it cost money while her wedding ring on her finger is large, the multi-coloured rock of what had to be pure enchantium glittering in the light.

His dad is equally intimidating, his own attire a match to hers only in black. Black slacks matched with a black button up shirt, his own hair allowed to grey in that way that men can get away with. He looks ever so slightly kinder than Hoseok’s mom, but you don’t trust that at all. Given his career, he could be a viper in disguise.

Swallowing hard, you find yourself gripping Hoseok’s hand even tighter in a fear you hadn’t even realised you truly had. You’d always known Hoseok was far richer than you, that he came from a wealth you couldn’t possibly understand and a social standing that was a foreign concept to you.

But it was entirely different seeing it like this, being stood in the centre of a ridiculous grand staircase in a mansion that was as beautiful as it was overwhelming in its subtle wealth. You hadn’t queried it last night, but a quick glance around told you that everything in this entrance hallway alone was probably worth more than the apartment you’d grown up in.

And that said nothing of the chandelier that hung above it all, glittering in an astonishingly beautiful sight that you couldn’t even begin to properly comprehend. The expense of just that alone had to eye watering and with all this combined with the frozen aura of his parents, you realised just how big the gap between you both was.

Still though, you had to try. You’d managed to get yourself here with pure effort and hard work, fighting against odds that were impossible to understand. You deserved to be here.

“Hello, I’m Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Every bit of politeness you have goes into your tone as you speak Standard to them and you give them a smile, trying your hardest to look warm and welcoming to them. Perhaps unsurprisingly, they don’t react.

“Come into the dining room. We had breakfast prepared before we arrived. I would like to talk to you both further.” His mother states before turning and walking away. Hoseok’s dad watches you quietly for a moment before inclining his head with a slight smile and following his wife.

Once they’ve both gone, Hoseok turns to you and cups your face immediately, fingers stroking at your cheeks while a distressed look takes over his expression. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t know they were gonna be here, I swear. I did not want you to meet them like this.”

Carefully, you give him a smile and take his fingers, pressing a kiss to the pads of his fingers one by one before sighing. Looking back in the direction where they’d both gone, you swallowed thickly and took a deep and fortifying breath.

“Okay, we can do this. We can do this right? It’s just breakfast.” Hoseok lets out a harsh laugh, his face turning ugly for a second.

“Yeah, breakfast with my parents. I don’t even fucking like being near them. They’re...it’s not going to be nice. I wish I could say otherwise but it’s the truth. And I just want to apologise beforehand for anything they say.” His voice is soft and gentle, a deeply hidden pain buried within it and you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your head to his chest while you squeeze him tightly.

“It’s okay. Honestly. I grew up on Earth...anything they throw at me is nothing compared to that. Let them try.” Looking up at him, you rest your chin on him and beam up at him brightly, hoping to brighten his mood. He stares down at you for a few seconds before chuckling reluctantly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you. Just...remember that.” Nodding, you let go of him and retake his hand, following carefully as he leads you through the maze like hallways of the house. As he goes, you take the time to take it all in, acknowledging how bright and big it all seems. It’s tastefully decorated, but you suppose that would be expected with his family.

 Finally though, you come to a room that’s even more astonishing than everything else. The ceilings are high, painted the same white as everywhere else that makes it all seem so much larger than it actually is while the centre is taken up with a long table, elegant chairs pushed in while his parents sit at one end.

You almost want to laugh at how large it is, the dark table made from real wood that must be native to the planet given the purple tint to it. They’re a family of three but you’d think Hoseok had ten siblings given the size of this table. 

But you don’t give in to that urge though, instead putting on a carefully neutral smile and following your boyfriend as he moves towards the table. There’s a spread of breakfast on top that makes your eyes widen despite yourself, the sheer amount of food astonishing given that they didn’t even know Hoseok was coming.

It all seemed far too much, and you wondered if they actually would eat it all if Hoseok and you were not here. The idea of wasting all of that made you cringe, nose wrinkling ever so slightly as you sat in the seat that Hoseok offered to you. He took the one next to you, closest to his father who sat at the head of the table while his mother sat opposite him.

Everything felt very awkward and you wondered how you were supposed to react. Was there special instructions on how to eat? Did you have to use certain cutlery to eat certain foods? You had no idea what to do and your hand rested on Hoseok’s thigh without even meaning to, your anxiety calming slightly at the feel of him.

“So, where are you from?” His dad asked politely. You were relieved to see that he at least had the decency to plaster a smile on his face, even if it was one of those blatantly fake ones that politicians mastered in their lifetime. 

“I’m...I’m from Earth. I got into New Seoul University four years ago and moved here then, enrolling in the education department. I met Hoseok properly two months ago.” You’re not sure which bit is the one that causes Hoseok’s mother to wrinkle her nose in what you presume to be disgust but you carefully bite your tongue, smiling at Hoseok as he quietly asks if you’d like something off the plate he’s holding.

There’s nothing for a few minutes as you prepare your breakfast from the available foods, making sure to not look like you’re eating too much while making sure that you actually have enough to fulfil you. Hoseok is stiff next to you, his unhappiness so obvious to you that you wonder if it’s equally as obvious to them. 

And then, his mom says something that leaves you stunned.

In Korean, or the New Korean that you’d had to study so hard over the last few years, she asks Hoseok something with a distinctly unimpressed look on her face. Something that leaves you shocked and Hoseok fuming beside you.

“Earth? Really? We’re not paying for you to be educated if you’re going to slum it with some backwards girl like this. Break it off with her today, this is just embarrassing to you and to us. Think of what it would do to our family image to have you associated with someone from Earth of all places. What do you think we are Hoseok? A charity? We raised you better than this, to have better standards. Your obsession with that cesspit is becoming too much.” Hoseok’s jaw drops at that, his hands fisting around his cutlery so tight that his fingers turn white.

You can’t even find it in yourself to say anything, understanding that she was at least having the decency to say this in a language she didn’t think you’d understand. But the fact she was still doing it in front of you was beyond mind boggling and straight into the realm of ‘holy fuck’.

And despite all that, her words hit every anxiety that you had deep inside you. Every worry that you’d buried deep when you’d realised that Hoseok was a sweet and kind guy who seemed to be unaware of the differences between you both. Because no matter what he thought, the rest of society would have a different opinion.

“First of all, you’re not paying for my education in order for me to date anyone, so why does that matter? Second of all, that’s where she grew up. If you’d take your head out of your ass and actually asked her, then you’d realise that she grew up in Old Korea. You know, our ancestral homeland? More than that, I don’t give a fuck about our family image. That’s all you guys. And finally...she can speak Korean.” He shoves a piece of fruit into his mouth after that, glaring intently at them as he chewed furiously.

His mother’s face pales slightly as she looks at you, shock the first time you’d seen something beyond disgust and the careful expression of neutrality on her. You’d almost be amused if it wasn’t for the fact that you knew she was only shocked because she was probably embarrassed at being found out like that.

But you decide to be diplomatic, recognising that Hoseok was evidently the one who was going to be battling with them today. Instead, you wanted to take the approach of trying to be sweet and kind with them, even if stuck in your throat that you had to do that when she’d been so blatantly insulting. 

Sure, Earth was a backwards shithole but it had been your backwards shithole.

And besides all that, you just really hated their belittling of your soulmate. You got the distinct impression from only five minutes with them that this was common. His mom didn’t even seem offended by his harsh words.

“Well...why didn’t you state you could speak Korean?” His mom asks bluntly, a frown marring her brow in obvious disapproval. Swallowing the harsh retort you wanted to say, you instead plastered a neutral smile onto your face and gave a delicate shrug of your shoulders.

“My apologies. Most people just speak Standard to me here at the university so I’ve gotten used to it. I grew up with Korean back in Old Korea, but upon arriving here I discovered that the centuries of separation have changed the language so I had to relearn. I’m sorry if I appeared rude, it wasn’t my intention.” There, that was nice and polite.

You got the sense that Hoseok was pissed that you had to be that polite and before any of you could say anything, he suddenly spoke again.

“Did you know that she can also speak fluent English and Spanish alongside standard, New Korean and Old Korean? Or that she got better grades than me? Or that she managed to overcome unbelievable odds to get here? She’ll be graduating this year in the top 1% of her class and has already been accepted for a graduate degree. On top of all that, she works hard to maintain her grades while also working to save money,” Hoseok looked at you then, pride in his eyes. “She’s the perfect example of someone who works hard and makes it through effort. Not just being born into it.”

The silence that falls over the room is beyond awkward and you shuffle slightly, feeling flushed with embarrassment at his words. You weren’t embarrassed over him being proud of your effort, in fact you were happy that he’d remembered everything you’d told him. No, it was the ugly look on his parents faces.

“Yes well, I suppose it’s easy to do well when everyone feels sorry for you.” His dad said suddenly and you looked at him in surprise, shocked that he’d think that way. He catches this and shrugs, taking a deep swallow of juice before carefully placing the glass back down. “It’s true. You’re a novelty here and no one wants to be the one to send the girl from Earth back.”

Jaw clenching you try hard to clamp down on your temper but Hoseok beats you to it, slamming his fork down onto the table so loud that you jump.

“For your information, father, essays and exams are anonymous. They have no idea who it came from. You know that, after all, it was mother who helped to implement that standard,” He glares at his mother who sniffs in response. “And secondly, stop being so fucking rude. I thought we cared about our family image?” 

His voice is so pedantic here that you almost want to laugh, Hoseok’s facial expression twisting almost comically as he parodies them. Both of their faces convulse grossly, unhappiness evident and you feel Hoseok take your hand tightly.

“Jung Hoseok, don’t you swear at us.” His dad grates out and Hoseok snorts, rolling his eyes.

“I don’t give a fuck. What are you gonna do? Disown me? You can’t, you have no other heirs because you waited too long and you were too snobby to adopt. I have no cousins so our name dies with me. Disown me if you want, I don’t give a fuck. But I’m not going to sit here and subject my soulmate to the two of you.” He goes to move then when his mother lets out a bark of laughter, causing you both to pause and look at her.

“Soulmate? Is that what she’s fed you? Is that how you’ve managed to latch onto him so fiercely? I thought you were smarter than that Hoseok. Instead, apparently you’re too busy thinking with another body part to realise how you’ve been led along by someone who probably only wants to make sure she’s well off. Soulmates, are you stupid?” She spits, tone venomous and eyes equally hard.

You want to respond when Hoseok holds up a hand up to you, his face suspiciously calm and you frown at him. There’s a moment of silence in the room, everyone waiting for the next harsh words to be spoken and you quietly take a sip of your juice in an effort to just do something.

“I can see colour. Your hair is brown mom, with a slight red tint to it. Dad, the apples you’re eating this morning are a wonderfully rich red, almost purple in shade. The Earth mangoes also look particularly ripe today. I believe that being this orange means that they’ll be very sweet, yes? Though this one probably isn’t the best given it’s more green.” He finishes, glaring at them both and they stare at him in shock.

But he doesn’t let them speak, his underlying anger and disgust bubbling over. “I first saw colour over two months ago when I touched Y/N. She saw colour for the first time too. I don’t care what you believe or what you think, nor am I going to explain why I believe that she’s my soulmate. You don’t really care. All I will say is, I don’t want to talk to either of you again. Not until you’re willing to apologise for what you’ve said today and accept my girlfriend, because I will not be leaving her. Not for you, not for anyone. Disown me if you want, I’ve already said. I don’t care. I’ve had enough of you both over the years and I’ll be damned if I let you both walk all over me in this regard. It has nothing to do with you and it never will.” 

They don’t speak for a few moments, eyes wide before his mother’s gaze hardens. “Fine, we won’t cut you out. Like you said, we can’t. But as long as you’re going to slum it with her, we won’t talk to you. As per your wishes. I feel like this has been a long time coming Hoseok.”

He snorts at that, rolling his eyes and standing abruptly. “Yeah, it really has. And it feels fucking amazing. Goodbye.”

You follow him as he almost storms out of the room, eyes wide in confusion as to the sudden events that have occured. Glancing back into the dining room, you note that his mother is stony faced while his father looks a little more uncomfortable, almost unhappy with what’s just happened.

Grasping Hoseok’s hand, you practically run after his long strides, almost giggling at how much faster you catch up to him. But then you see his face, the pain in it and you stop, biting your lip and climbing into the air car with him quietly.

For a good ten minutes, neither of you says anything and you simply stroke his hand reassuringly. Guilt bubbles in your stomach, causing you to look down unhappily as you wonder how everything had just happened like this. So fast as well.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper gently, licking at your lips. Almost immediately though, Hoseok is cupping your face and kissing you softly, his movements so much sweeter than the harsh and uncaring man you’d just witnessed in the dining room.

“Don’t ever say sorry for them. As my mom said, this was a long time coming. We haven’t been able to meet and not have an argument for the last few years anyway. It annoys them I don’t care about the same stuff they do. And I’ll be damned if I let them push you away with their horrible ways.” You can tell by his face that he means every word, but the very idea of pushing your parents away like this is so alien to you that you almost can’t believe it.

“But...I mean...you’ll talk again, right? They’re your parents.” Hoseok lets out a laugh, his face softening as he looks at you so fondly. Any anger he’d been feeling has evidently vanished and you revel in the attention he gives so you willingly.

“They’re not my parents. Parents are what you have, people who love you so deeply that they’d give up everything for you to make sure you’re happy. Mine are just the people who created me. They’ve never shown any interest in me, I was raised by staff. I’m not a person to them, I’m just the heir to their fortune and name.” It’s a concept you just can’t really understand, your mind refusing to wrap around the words.

You can’t even begin to imagine your own parents acting like that, even though they had nothing to give. To know that his parents had everything and yet had given their son nothing that he actually wanted was horrifying.

“I’m sorry Hoseok, you deserve better.” He smiles and shrugs, his expression a little sad. Leaning forward, he kisses your forehead and remains there for a moment, nose pressed to your hairline as he simply breathes you in.

“I do. And I have. I’ve got you now. You’ve shown me more love and affection in two months than they have in twenty-four years. I’m okay, I’m used to it. I just...are you okay? Please don’t believe what they said. They have a public persona that’s much nicer and sweeter than their real identity, as you saw. Don’t believe anything, you’re so much better than what they said.” 

Watching him over quietly, you give him a small smile before moving to sit in his lap. He chuckles at the movement, arms wrapping around your waist tightly as you kiss him sweetly. The air car complains at the sudden double weight of his seat but he turns the alarm off, both of you well aware that he’s now breaking the law.

But you don’t care at the moment, too busy hugging him and just being content in his presence. 

“I won’t. I can tell when someone’s saying something to just be mean. Like I said...I grew up on Earth. They have to try a lot harder to truly hurt me.” You say lightly, grinning at him before burrowing your face into his neck. He squeezes you tightly and sighs, the both of you settling into a gentle peace. “My parents will love you, I swear.”

“I have zero doubt of that, not when they did so much for you. I can’t wait to meet them.” That makes your stomach twist and tumble in excitement, the feelings buzzing through your body and you hug him harder.

“We’ll be okay, right?” You’re not sure what you mean by that, but you feel the sudden urge to ask him. The knowledge that his parents didn’t approve of you wasn’t surprising, but his willingness to cut them out of his life so quickly was. Maybe it shouldn’t have been, given what he’d told you yesterday and the way he’d avoided talking about them for so long now.

“We’ll be okay. I promise. I’m happy with you, happier than I’ve ever been. I swear.” He kisses your forehead once more, nuzzling against you and you sigh in contentment, the feeling of bliss rolling through your body at his touch.

“I’m happy with you too.”

-

Fifteen Years Later 

The sun is high today, without a hint of any wispy white clouds to block some of the intense rays for a few minutes. It’s the middle of summer in Sejong, the days long and bright with a temperature that made you want to stay inside the air conditioned house all day long. But at the same time, the gentle breeze that blew in from the sea helped to cool the air, the scent of salt pleasant while the distant lapping waves created a calming soundtrack.

Walking out of the house that borders the beach, the home that Hoseok’s ancestors had so carefully built and maintained over the centuries, you smile brightly at the scene in the extensive garden.

The tall white walls surrounded the whole boundary of the Sejong estate, protecting it from prying eyes and providing a safe space for anyone who came here. Carefully maintained green grass that had been imported from Earth a long time ago gleamed a beautiful emerald while tall trees with the indigo stain of the native New Korean trees stood proudly amongst the lawn, their towering branches providing much needed shade.

You’d been bemused by their colouring when you’d finally been able to see colour. Even though you’d never seen brown before, or even really proper trees back on Earth, you’d grown up being told that trees had brown trunks. It had been unusual that the indigo bark had been hard to get your head around given you’d never seen anything else. 

Glittering violet leaves shifted in the low wind and you inhaled deeply, the succulent scent of those special flowers that Hoseok’s mom had planted so extensively throughout the estate today smelling of luscious strawberries. Real strawberries too, not the fake crap you’d grown up with.

The sound of laughter distracts you from the nature around you, your gaze immediately being drawn to the colourful play equipment that had been set up in the very centre of the garden. Pure white sand took up a square in the middle of the grass and slides, swings and more was set up in this small play area, a traditional way for children to play in this modern era.

Your seven-year-old son was the source of the laughter, his giggle so sweet and high that it made your heart clench. Watching as he throws a handful of sand into the air, you can’t help but smile as you see your soulmate in him so strongly. Even from here, you know that his eyes would be the same half-moons of delight that Hoseok’s got when he was happy.

A shout of annoyance came from your four-year-old daughter, her small hands pressed to her hips as she scowled at her older brother. She was at that age where she wanted to follow her brother around all the time to play but he was fast approaching that strange age in childhood where they didn’t want to play with their siblings anymore.

Especially not a little sister who clung to his every movement. 

Sarang shrieks in anger when Hajoon runs away from her, his longer legs letting him climb the ladder to the wooden playhouse quicker than her. You go to put a stop to their fighting, as usual, but you’re beaten to it by the elderly lady who tuts at them both in stern amusement.

“You two...stop fighting.” Your mom says, running her fingers through Sarang’s dark hair while she gestures at Hajoon who leans dangerously over the railing. He says something back to her but you can tell it’s nothing mean and you sigh quietly, looking to your side as she manages your children.

Your dad is sitting in his usual comfortable chair on the extended porch, safely in the shade but able to enjoy the weather, smells and the sight of his grandchildren without having to move. Which you’re glad of, because despite your hopes, the medical staff here on New Korea hadn’t been able to do anything for him in regards to his legs.

Hoseok had been true to his word fifteen years ago, looking into how he could bring your parents to your new home to live out their final years with you. He hadn’t let you know he was doing it, or that he’d even been in contact with them.

All you’d known was that a year later, you had been undertaking your graduate degree and Hoseok had begun working at one of his father’s companies after they had finally begun talking again. Their communications were still icy cold, but you got the sense that his dad cared more than his mom. The two of you had moved into his apartment in downtown New Seoul, an expensive building that you would have had no chance of beforehand.

And then suddenly, one day you’d come home to find your parents sitting in the living room with a smiling Hoseok. There had been a moment of complete disbelief before you’d burst into tears, running over to them both and almost choking them in tight hugs. Neither of them had complained though, instead just hugging you back just as tightly as they cried themselves.

In the five years since you had left Earth, they had aged dramatically and part of you had wondered whether Hoseok had brought them here to die within a year. Their hair had greyed quickly while the wrinkles in their skin had deepened. Despite all that though, you had been so unbelievably happy that they were finally there with you.

Hoseok had confirmed that he’d managed to get them the citizenship that you’d only just acquired last year, pulling more than a few strings with some of the family friends he knew. It had been a blatant abuse of power, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to complain. Not when your parents had finally left Earth and that your promise had been fulfilled.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, they had become completely taken with Hoseok. It had been a bizarrely amusing situation for you in which your own parents, who had been so far away, became the rocks that Hoseok and you had relied on when times get tough. His own parents had remained very distant after the whole debacle of your first meeting; Hoseok had still yet to forgive them even now.

Despite being unable to help your father with his legs, the doctors here had been able to extend your parents lives a little further than should have been possible on Earth. The combination of medicine, clean air, healthy living, no work and good food meant that they had slowly come back to life before your eyes.

A regimented skin care routine that your mother had discovered was slowly reducing the wear and tear on her skin while your father simply enjoyed not being run ragged by work. Fifteen years later, they were still here and going on strong.

It brought you to tears sometimes to know that not only had they escaped from Earth finally, but they had been at your wedding to Hoseok and had then been lucky enough to witness their grandchildren being born and growing up. All of this, because of your wonderful soulmate and two parents who had refused to let you stagnate on a dying planet.

Two arms wrap around your waist from behind, a warm body pressing against your back while petal soft lips pressed against your temple. Grinning broadly, you rest your hands on his own and tilt your head back to take in the still beautiful sight of your husband; the love of your life and your soulmate.

He smiled back at you sweetly, contentment on his face as he pressed a kiss to your lips and you sighed happily. The two of you had decided to move to the Sejong estate after Sarang’s birth just over four years ago. While you both loved New Seoul, you’d desperately wanted your children to grow up with everything you hadn’t.

Which meant a childhood free of towering buildings and busy streets. Sejong was the perfect mix of urban and rural, with Hoseok’s already owning the estate here. His parents had given to him as a wedding present, despite their distinct unhappiness at him marrying you.

So you’d made your home here. Hoseok worked for his father’s company remotely, occasionally travelling into New Seoul or any other cities he needed to before coming back. You taught at the local school in Sejong, enriching the minds of the children of those who had made their homes here in one of the most beautiful places you’d ever seen.

And just on the other side of the wall was the beach and bay that still astonished you every time you saw it. It had not only been the place where Hoseok and you had admitted your love to each other, but also the place where he had asked you to be his wife and the place where you had both sealed your love together in matrimony. As such, it had become a special place to you and you’d hated the idea of the estate standing empty when you had a family ready made to move in there.

“Let me guess, Hajoon made Sarang cry again?” Hoseok sighed quietly, resting his chin on your shoulder and you chuckled. Despite being inside when it had happened, your husband knew your children very well.

Nodding, you grin and lean back against him, the familiar contentment at his touch spreading through you.

“Yep, but my mom put a stop to it. I think she might take Sarang inside to bake soon, she bought a load of stuff at that traditional store in town.” That made Hoseok laugh, his breath warm and ticklish against your neck.

“I’ll never understand why she likes to bake when she could just get Somin to do it.” Somin was the cook that apparently came with this estate, because that was a thing. You hated it, but you wouldn’t deny that she did make the best food. Which was why you’d reluctantly agreed to keep her. That and Hoseok had pointed out that the estate was so big that you simply needed to have staff to help maintain it.

Somin at least let you cook if you wanted to, or showed you how to make things. She’d also taught your mom how to bake in the last fifteen years and Sarang had taken a fascination to it as well, so your protests had long since died down. Hoseok still didn’t understand why they liked doing it though.

“She finds it relaxing I guess. I’m not going to tell her to stop doing anything she enjoys.” He hums lightly, swaying you both gently from side to side in a rhythmical movement. It lulls you into a wonderful sense of calm and you smile, still amazed that this was your life now.

“How’re you? And is the baby okay?” His hands move down to gently rub at the bump protruding from your belly, the swollen roundness an obvious sign of the child that grew within. It was still odd to know that it was acceptable to have large families here and you’d quickly discovered after Hajoon that that was exactly what you wanted with Hoseok.

After a childhood of growing up alone with uncaring parents, Hoseok wanted it too. Which is why you are now pregnant with your third child, due in another three months.

“We’re fine. Everything’s fine.” You murmur, reaching up to gently stroke Hoseok’s cheek as you just enjoy the feel of him against you. Fifteen years later, he still makes you feel so safe and protected.

“Good,” He quietens for a moment, simply enjoying the moment with you before he kissing your temple once more. “Are you happy?”

Gazing out, you take in the sight before you. Your children are now playing happily in the sand, both cooperating as they work to make miniature sand castles with your mom. She’s smiling so brightly, happiness that you’d never seen on Earth radiating from her so strongly that it makes tears bank in your eyes.

Your father is still asleep, but the lines of worry and exhaustion that had long since plagued him had smoothed out, his days spent simply enjoying his life now. And then there was Hoseok, your beautiful, wonderful, amazing Hoseok.

The man who had taken a chance fifteen years ago when a woman had told him she was her soulmate, despite knowing nothing about it. Who had taken seeing colour suddenly in his stride and had plunged into dating without any knowledge of what was going on.

The man who you’d fallen so deeply in love with so fast and who had reciprocated so quickly in response, who had defended you and chosen you over his parents when he could have abandoned you so quickly. Meeting Hoseok had been fate and you couldn’t ever imagine your life without him now.

“I’m happy,” You whisper, throat tight with emotions as you feel your baby kick inside you. The movement is directly beneath Hoseok’s hand and you feel him grin, your own hand pressed lovingly on top of his. “I love you.”

There’s a brief moment of quiet after you say it to him, the words so common in your conversation that you could almost be mistaken for thinking there was no real meaning behind them anymore. But you mean every syllable that drops from your mouth when you tell him that, never wanting him to think that you don’t love him.

When he responds, you can feel the same unspoken weight of emotion behind them too and you feel joyful at the knowledge that he feels the same for you.

“I love you too.”

[themadauthorshatter]

If you're up to date with my posts, then you know what's about to happen.

I've read the books, WE'VE ALL READ THE BOOKS, but this is a somewhat fun switch-a-roo.

Expect a BUNCH of changes that I'll try justifying, especially painful ones, so bear with me🙏

OTP SWAP PART 1: THE CRUEL PRINCE!!!!

I'm starting with the first book for obvious reasons

Like before, we start in the mortal world with Ashley Duarte(yes, human!Cardan's last name is Duarte, but like I said, bear with me) making tacos in the kitchen while one of the MANY dogs and other animals wait for her to drop some food. Baby boy Cardan and his older half-sister Rhyia are watching some human stuff, maybe Looney Tunes or old Mickey Mouse cartoons, when the door is knocked on, which alerts the animals and wakes a half asleep Cardan; Rhyia does not wake up.

Cardan answers it and finds a cloaked Madoc at the door. Rather than ask who he is or call for his mother, he stares at this man, who kneels and asks as evenly as possible if his mother is home.

Cardan slams the door in his face, which prompts Ashley to ask why he did so.

Madoc BANGS on the door and shouts, "Asha!" and Ashley pales as she realizes who is at the door.

She demands Cardan to go upstairs as Madoc kicks the door open and walks inside, giving the same speech as the original, that Balekin told him she'd ran away with his daughter, that she killed a woman who was just as pregnant as her, that she ran away and married some lowly farm hand and blacksmith. He thought it was a lie, but nope. Here she stands.

Asha(which is her real name) is deeply ashamed at his words, and tries to pull Cardan away; an angry Madoc is an unstable Madoc.

Like before, Justin rushes in to save his family, but ends up getting kebabbed with his wife.

Rhyia does wake up to see both and Madoc spills the tea that she's his and needs to pack her bags because they're leaving, and Cardan's coming with.

Cardan, despite being seven, is outraged and tries to kick Madoc into oblivion with no avail. Rhyia, however, swears that she'll never love a monster like Madoc, who simply scoffs and tells her to wrangle the human and gather her things in half an hour, because they're leaving for Faerie.

Reluctantly, they do and they never see the mortal world again for a very long time.

Jump to the present day as Cardan, a now seventeen year old human heart throb, is getting prim and proper for a revel. His hair is getting styled nice, he's in a nice suit, he's wearing a cool belt that makes him look like he has a tail, and has ear cuffs that make his ears look pointed like a faerie.

He also has rowan berries on his wrist, because he doesn't want the necklace to be easy to see as a lot of his shirts show his chest.

He's dolled up and meets Locke, his brother that came around when Madoc married Oriana and had Oak. The two did not get along, at first, but they began to tolerate each ither as they realized they were the only humans in Faerie that were gentry kids.

Locke is more of a bard or a poet, always seen with a little book, and doesn't wear the same stuff Cardan does, so no pointed ear cuffs for him. He's also more accustomed to Faerie, being good with half truths and minor deception. He's on good terms with both Madoc and Oriana.

Cardan, however, is not on good terms with either of them, as he has tried multiple times to leave Faerie, with and without Rhyia with him, and every time ended with Madoc outside scowling at him and leading him back to his room. Still has that 'no kill' rule, but he's better with sneaking and a sword, having been able to lighten his steps so he could sneak past Madoc and his guards whenever he tried to leave. He's not bad with a sword, but he still has a lot to learn, being 17 and all. When he doesn't have a sword in his hands, he has an animal in them, i.e. a foal, a dog, or, at one point, a skunk that was calm enough to not spray him. Yeah, animal lover that can hold his own.

The two exchange banter and Locke shows show rare excitement for this revel, saying the two will have the time of their lives. Locke, who isn't as close with her, wonders where Rhyia is, but Cardan reveals she's not attending, instead going to visit some friends in the mortal world.

Her funeral as the boys saddle up with Oriana amd Madic and go to the revel.

Similar events occur, like Oriana telling the boys to be careful, Madoc talking to Dain and Balekin, and Locke leading Cardan through the revel so they can have a good time.

IT GOES DOWNHILL WHEN THE GREENBRIAR TWINS AND THEIR FRIENDS ARRIVE. Jude, her older sister Taryn, and their friends, Edir, a bard that can sing and play anyone under the table, Valerian, who's a sadist, and Nicasia, the princess of the Undersea.

Jude and Taryn may have the same face and body, but don't be fooled, Jude has horns, always wears a sword, and will slap you in a dress and then set it on fire without a second’s hesitation. Taryn, however, always has a bunch of flowers in her hair, always wears a dress, and uses words as her weapon. Did you know that she broke on of the most boisterous men in Faerie qith nothing but her words? True story. Edir is the guy that keeps them both in check, an order of Balekin's, which we'll learn later. He is also more of Jude's friend and Taryn's bed buddy, in SFW terms. Nicasia is Jude's friend, like FRIEND, and Valerian is the same, really, just more of an ass now that he has more even targets.

Everyone bows to these guys, even Cardan and a smirking Locke. That smirk vanishes when Taryn winks at Cardan, who Jude GLARES AT.

Locke feels the same way, cinfused and angry, but no time to think in it because Valerian storms toward a confused Cardan and grabs him by the collar, snarling that he can play dress up and make believe all he wants because it won't hide his plain hair or round ears or barn dog smell, so he shouldn't even bother.

Valerian throws him back and Locke rounds on Cardan, asking him what the hell that was between him and Taryn. Cardan brushes him off, as it was just a wink, not a lap dance. Before they can REALLY go at it, crying draws their attention and see that Jude just pincushioned someone who didn't bow, said someone nkw having a hole in their stomach and a slash across their torso. Taryn is annoyed, Nicasia and Valerian are trying not to laugh, and Edir, who's embarassed, is scolding Jude for losing it at a revel.

Jump to after the revel and the day of school. The boys do indeed get dirt kicked on their food, but instead of 'make me,' Cardan snaps, 'TRY me,' because Nicasia asks if he's as filthy as other human boys. Locke talks him down, but Valerian, kicking more dirt and even throwing some IN Cardan's face, asks if the two qould like them for friends.

Locke apologizes for Cardan, but Jude commands he prove it by dropping out of the tournament, it'll be less embarrassing than getting his ass beaten in front of everyone.

Nicasia spots one of the ear cuffs and pulls it off, asking if he stole it. Big mistake because the cuff burns her hand, as it is iron and iron hurts Faeries.

Cardan smirks and the group leaves, Locke scolding him for being stupid.

Later, at dinnner, after talk of Dain's coronation, Cardan, despite some minor objection from Rhyia, asks Madoc a question: May he please have a green sash for the tournament? Why? He would like to be a knight, please and thank you. Madoc chikes on his wine, Locke coughs to hide a laugh, Rhyia winces, and Oriana os shicked into silence.

Madoc gives it to him straight: he's not bad with a sword, he's good on his feet,and he's the best damned rider that anyone's ever seen, but no. He cannot compete for knighthood, on the count of being the furthest thing from a killer imaginable and just being in over his head.

Cardan protests that he can do just fine, but Madoc warns him to stop before he gets himself thrown in a dungeon instead if his room until the coronation of prince Dain.

Cardan relinquishes and we get the salt prank like before, except Locke is pissed beyond all reason at his foster brother. Cardan doesn't mind until he's grabbed by Edir and Valerian, Locke being pulled by the hair by Jude and both are thrown in the river, which has Nixies in it.

Thier supplies get yeeted, Locke gets pulled out by Valerian and is made to kiss Jude on the lips and both her horns, but, when asked, Cardan does not give up, vowing that he will never give up, which makes Jude laugh and the group leave.

Locke and Cardan walk home, get some baths, and go to bed, except they go to the mortal world with Rhyia and meet her friends Vivienne and Heather at the mall. Vivienne apologizes for Jude's behavior, and we learn that Rhyia is planning to leave Faerie, and is probably going alone.

The boys return and endure a lesson, but Jude pushes Locke's buttons, so Cardan pushes her into a tree. Challenge accepted.

TOURNAMENT TIME!! Cardan fairs wellin that Valerian is lazy, Edir is out of shape, and Jude got cocky, so he wins.

Jude fumes at him, later grabbing him by the tail on his belt amd demanding he beg for her forgiveness. He does... NOT! And spits in her face that she may push him down, but he'll pull her down with him, and it will hurt her like hell.

Taryn approaches him and expresses interest in him, saying that she once took both Edir and Nicasia from Jude because people just like a sensitive girl.

She leaves and the tournament eventually ends, which leads Cardan to return hime and meet Dain, who requested one of Madoc's people to tell Cardan one of Eldred's children had come for a visit.

Dain and Cardan get talking and Dain offers him something that isn't knighthood: spying. Plus one wish.

Cardan knows what he wants: to not be controled.

Granted, but Dain can still control him and the fruits of Faerie will still effect him.

Screwy, but deal, he's a spy now

STAY TUNED FOR PART 2!!!!!

[boxoftheskyking]

Pick Up Every Piece, Part Two

how do you write Wei Ying? All talking. How do you write Lan Zhan? Run on sentences, of course.

have some exposition. everyone is a mess, wahoo.

Part One

---

Lan Zhan’s iron is broken. 

There’s no reason it should be—he keeps it clean and returns it to its original box after each use, and it’s barely three years old. But no matter what he does, it does not heat. He shouldn’t even need to iron his shirt in the morning, but deadline on deadline (and budget cuts on budget cuts) mean that he hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep in six days and hasn’t done laundry in a week. There are dishes piled up in the kitchen sink, so he’s started avoiding the kitchen entirely on his way to crash into bed so he doesn’t have to see it.

Things break, Lan Zhan accepts this. They wear out, come to accidents, disappoint you, die. But there’s no reason for this iron not to work. There have been no odd smells, the plug is fine—he’s tried three different outlets—and it’s barely three years old.

He stands in his closet in an undershirt and boxers, one hand pressed flat against the heating element, and allows himself a two minute breakdown.

There’s no reason for it. He’s done everything right, ticked every box. He started writing at age ten and hasn’t stopped since. He was top of his class at university, edited every school paper he had access to and founded two more, he got his masters. Even factoring in nepotism—which he doesn’t like to do, because it makes him feel like a cheat—he’s gone about as far as he can as a journalist. He’s won every major award, and with his uncle as managing editor he has more freedom than most in terms of how he writes and what he covers. He served the Republic, fought for two and half years and got a Sunshot medal for it. And yet, after ten years in his chosen field, everything is dying around him. No one pays for papers anymore, no one cares for the truth anymore. Political pundits on TV and radio have taken over the readership; citizens still traumatized by war just want someone to tell them what to think, tell them everything is fine now, tell them to ignore the injustices and messes and misfortunes that surround them. When he started at the Gusu Herald there were fifty people on staff—now they’re down to under twenty, including editors. All the small town papers in the area have closed, but there’s hardly the staff to even consider local stories these days. Lan Qiren tries to hold out as the last family-owned paper in the area, but corporations are circling. It’s like he spent his whole youth building a shining bridge across a canyon, only to find the other side barren and dead, miles of cold steel and no light on the horizon. 

He turns the iron and presses it against his chest, imagines it suddenly turning on, the satisfaction of the burn.

Then he unplugs the iron, puts it back in its box, and pulls on the wrinkled shirt. He pulls up the blackout curtains to let a little of the thin 7am light into the bedroom. There’s no reason to still have blackout curtains in Gusu, but he got used to it years ago and once he gets used to things he tends not to change them without reason. But he’s got plants now, gifts from his brother, and he’s trying to keep them alive. It shouldn’t be that difficult to do, he is conscientious and meticulous, but then his iron shouldn’t be broken either.

No one comments on his wrinkled appearance when he gets to work, which irks him. There is the familiar sound of phones ringing, printers going, file cabinets slamming open and closed in every direction. It’s calming to him, but he can’t help but notice how much quieter it is now than when he started. Part of it is the new computers—when he started here they were still on electric typewriters which were deafening. But mostly it just feels . . . empty.

Not completely empty, not yet. 

“Hey, hey Lan Zhan,” Lan Meiling waves him over to her desk, where a half dozen reporters are gathered around a computer printout. “Did you see this? Jin Zixun’s the new head of the Trade Commission. Just announced.”

Lan Zhan winces and looks over the report.

“But we’re not a monarchy, right guys?” Liu Dong snorts, shoving Meiling’s shoulder.

“It’s not a monarchy, it’s the other thing,” Wang Tengfei says, tapping his chin. “What’s the thing where it’s not passed down by birth, but you still appoint all your family members? That’s a thing isn’t it?”

“That’s just Jin Guangshan,” Liu Dong laughs. “But hush, hush, treason.”

“Come on, what’s the word for it?” Tengfei asks again.

Meiling takes the paper back from Lan Zhan. “Wasn’t he the one who paid for his grades in college? I get them confused.”

Lan Zhan nods. “That was Jin Zixun. Who’s got the story? There should be clippings. ‘92, I think, or ‘93.”

“Who covered that? Any of you?” Su She leans over the cubicle wall, knocking the photo of Meiling’s family onto her desk. There’s no reason for him to be here; he doesn’t cover politics. He’s had the local court beat for the past three years, and has spent those three years writing the exact same story five times a week with different names and charges plugged in. Lan Zhan is completely sure that he’d cover a person fined for unpaid parking tickets and a person arrested for smuggling baby unicorns with the exact same level of interest.

“Wei Ying wrote the story,” Lan Zhan says. The group falls silent, a troubled glance flying between all but him. “Before the merger, in the Gusu Times. Lan Shu can pull the clippings for you. It was a series, I believe.”

Lan Meiling coughs. “You can find a different reference, Liu Dong. Someone in Qinghe must have covered it.”

“It was a good series,” Lan Zhan says. He’s being needlessly stubborn, but that’s nothing new. “Wei Ying got the school registrar on the record.”

Liu Dong scratches the back of his shaved head. “Yeah, but. You know. I’ll call over to Qinghe.”

“It was a good series,” Lan Zhan says again. It’s awkward enough to break up the group, everyone shuffling back to their desks or the coffee maker. Lan Zhan has that uncomfortable feeling that he’s supposed to want to apologize for something. It’s a feeling he gets a lot, and he hates it. He doesn’t want to apologize—he has nothing to apologize for. Wei Ying was a good reporter; he wrote good stories. Everything that happened after that doesn’t change the fact that he was good at what he did.

Su She follows him over to his desk, so his day is about to keep getting worse. Lan Zhan prides himself on being rational, and he has many rational reasons for disliking Su She. He’s a half-assed writer, he wouldn’t know a decently placed comma if it was unveiled to him on a pedestal by the gods, he is a busybody and a gossip, and he lives to take credit for other people’s work. He’ll offer you the phone number of one of his “connections” and then whine about how he deserves a shared byline.

But on many levels beyond the rational, Lan Zhan hates the guy. He hates the way he pronounces words, his laugh, the smell of his lunch, even his handwriting. And he’s always there.

“You knew him, didn’t you, Lan Zhan?” Su She leans on his cubicle now, though there are no photographs to knock down.

Lan Zhan’s instinctual response is Don’t call me that, which is ridiculous because it’s his name. But he hates the way his name sounds in Su She’s mouth.

“What?” 

“Wei Ying. You knew him before the scandal, didn’t you?”

Lan Zhan takes an even breath. “Yes.”

“Did you work with him?”

“He was at the Times, before the merger. He never worked at the Herald.”

“But you knew him in school, right?”

If Lan Zhan wanted to be fair (he doesn’t), there’s no way for Su She to know that this line of questioning is particularly painful. He distracts himself from the sting of it by considering all of the answers he won’t be giving.

Yes. He gave me half a handjob in 1989 and I’ve thought of it every day since.

Yes. He called me his soulmate one day in the library at Gusu University and I’ve thought of it every day since.

Yes, I read the story that ruined his life before it was published, because he came to my home and asked me to read it and he was so proud, skinny and manic and over-caffeinated and burning, burning, burning, and I looked at him and I recognized the same thing that burns in me, the thing that keeps me coming back to this sad beige office every day, that makes me want to fight the inevitable like swinging swords at the sea, and I didn’t tell him not to publish. I told him it was a good story. It would not have stopped him, me telling him not to do it. But I could have tried. And I’ve thought of that every day since.

He just nods, instead.

“Is he still alive, do you think?” Su She asks casually.

The question stops Lan Zhan. “What?”

“No one’s heard from him since the war, have they? Could have died somewhere. Plenty still missing. I heard he went West, maybe, and the fighting was—”

“He is not dead.” Lan Zhan doesn’t know this for sure. But he would know, surely. Wouldn’t he? The thought honestly has not occurred to him in all these years, that Wei Ying might have died.

“Are you in touch?” Su She has a habit of asking questions like this, flipping from casual conversation to an interrogation. It makes him a terrible reporter.

“I served with his brother. He has not mentioned that Wei Ying has died. I have work to do, Su She.”

It bothers him, even after Su She leaves. He hasn’t seen Jiang Cheng in a few years, and they do not write or call each other. Jin Zixuan writes to them all about once a year, and he visits when he’s in Gusu, but he has always been the more sentimental one of the three of them, the survivors. But he thinks that Jiang Cheng would tell him if Wei Ying had died. 

Perhaps he wouldn’t. Jiang Cheng was not at school with them; he may not think of Lan Zhan as a person to notify in the event of his brother’s death. Would anyone think to let him know? It wouldn’t make the papers, probably, so how would he know? Wen Qing, perhaps. If she remembered. If she is also alive.

He feels it like an itch on his skin, something unsettled in his stomach, the idea that Wei Ying might not have survived. He would know, wouldn’t he? He’d feel it, the change in the fabric of the universe. Food would taste different, his voice would sound different. He’d feel it in the moments between sleeping and waking.

He makes a cup of tea and boots up his computer. They all have emails now, which is still a relatively new part of the morning ritual, but he doesn’t mind adding it as he checks his mail, his answering machine. He had a deadline yesterday and isn’t swamped this morning, so he takes down phone numbers and flips through his calendar on autopilot while he thinks about Wei Ying.

Wei Ying probably remembers him. He definitely remembers him, it would be ridiculous for him not to, but Lan Zhan doubts he remembers their college years the same way. 

(His fingers in Wei Ying’s hair, shoved against the wall in someone else’s dark bedroom, cheering and laughter from the drinking game just downstairs, cheap beer on his breath, everything spinning, spinning, his first time being drunk, his brain singing out kiss him, kiss him again, more, more, more, this is your chance, Wei Ying’s left hand on him, awkward and surprisingly tender, Wei Ying’s voice slurring in his ear “Lan Zhan I’m so glad you’re here, I’m so glad, I’m so glad I found you, Lan Zhan,” before the door bursts open and they spring apart, before Wei Ying ruffles his hair and says, “You probably won’t remember this, huh?” before they leave the party separately, before weeks of silence because what do you say to all of that, before Wei Ying and Wen Qing get together and Lan Zhan says, “I’m happy for you,” which is a lie, a lie, a lie, before Wei Ying and Wen Qing split up and Lan Zhan says, “I’m sorry to hear that,” which is a lie, a lie, a lie . . .)

He could do some digging. It probably wouldn’t be too difficult to find him, and it’s not like Lan Zhan lacks resources. But every time the thought crosses his mind it feels like too much, too violating. If Wei Ying wanted to be found, he would not have disappeared. And if Wei Ying wanted Lan Zhan in his life, he knows where to find him. Lan Zhan is not the one who left.

That’s a bitter thought, and unfair.

The story of Wei Ying is not complicated, and it’s not secret, but it’s never told right. 

They’d met in college, when Wei Ying transferred to Gusu in junior year, in a psych class of all places. Lan Zhan had a double major, because psychology and journalism was a logical pairing, and Wei Ying was meant to take a broadcast concentration but had broken his wrist falling off a roof and couldn’t work any of the equipment. 

Lan Zhan hadn’t known what to do with him at first. Wei Ying had grabbed him for the first group project a week into the semester, declaring, “We’re kindred spirits, you know,” before writing his phone number left-handed on Lan Zhan’s arm. Lan Zhan did not know. They had barely spoken before this, but for the rest of the semester Wei Ying sat by him and they studied together and Lan Zhan pulled strings to get him onto the university paper. And Wei Ying had grinned at him one day in the library, sleep-deprived and rumpled, when Lan Zhan had finished his trailed-off sentence, and said “Ah, my soulmate.”

They were kindred spirits, Lan Zhan believed. Lan Zhan decided he wanted to be a reporter when he was ten and learned the truth about his parents. After an entire childhood of being lied to, he decided his calling in life would be to tell the truth, no matter what. It made him odd and prickly, and usually lonely, but gave him a reputation of fearlessness and ferocity that he would never regret.

Wei Ying was different. He wasn’t so invested in the truth from a moral or political perspective—he was cheerfully amoral back then, in a teenage kind of way—but he loved information and he loved being right. Puzzles and secrets attracted him, and Lan Zhan watched them open up for him like lotus flowers at every turn. 

Lan Zhan settled into their friendship in a way that was unexpected, he began to rely on Wei Ying’s opinion, began to think of things from his perspective when he found himself stuck. And then he’d gotten drunk at a midwinter party and kissed Wei Ying and ruined all of it. It wasn’t Wei Ying’s fault. Lan Zhan had panicked and run and then left for break and never given Wei Ying his home number, and then when he returned Wei Ying wasn’t single anymore. He’d gone to Yiling with Wen Qing and her brother and come back someone’s boyfriend. (Wen Qing! Older, beautiful, stern and razor-sharp, who Lan Zhan had hero-worshipped, the part-time advisor to the school paper who turned down more offers than either of them would see in their lifetimes. That Wen Qing!) And Lan Zhan didn’t know how to handle it so he just . . . let it go. They stayed in touch while Wei Ying moved back to Yunmeng for a while, then got a job at the Times after the war started, and Lan Zhan joined the Herald and went to grad school, always Wei Ying reaching out first. But even after they were both single again and living in the same city, they just stayed apart.

It would be easy—completely unfair, but easy—to blame Wen Qing for all of it. But all she’d done was the same thing Lan Zhan had. Loved Wei Ying, and failed to stop him. If anything, Wen Qing is better than he is—when Wei Ying fell, at least she fell with him.

The downfall was not complicated, and he should have seen it coming. When Wei Ying showed up at his door in the middle of the night with a crumpled print out of his story, Lan Zhan should have seen where it would lead.

It was 1994, three years into the war, and Lan Zhan was in training with the cultivator corps in Lanling. In retrospect, that’s likely how Wei Ying found him—Jiang Cheng was in his unit and must have given the address. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he didn’t stop Wei Ying. Everything was so unreal, the war, the devastation, the training, cultivation itself. Everything he’d known about life, the country, physics, what is possible and what is just a legend, all of it was thrown out into a whirling storm of adapt, adapt, adapt. It was chaos, and Lan Zhan became very good at chaos.

The story would have been a bombshell in any year—over a dozen former assistants, interns, and even one sitting representative accusing the Acting President of the Republic of misconduct and abuse. Rumors about Jin Guangshan were older than his political career, and illegitimate children were hardly rare in government, but Wei Ying had been the first to get multiple accusers on the record along with recordings and photos. Wen Qing, the youngest managing editor in the country and one of only two women, had agreed to run the story.

It was a good story. A really, really good story.

But there was a war on, and Acting President Jin was the only protection the country had against the usurper Wen Ruohan and his army of traitors. Not that Jin Guangshan ever left Carp Tower himself—that’s what the oldest son was for. 

The blowback was immediate—Wei Ying was forced to retract the entire story and resign, Wen Qing was fired and the Gusu Times lost every advertiser and investor on the books. It was only natural for Lan Qiren to buy it up for pocket change, the merger he’d been looking at for years. All of the women named in the story issued statements accusing Wei Ying of lying, of doctoring evidence, of hiring actors that looked like them to fill his false story with fake photos. All statements made after visits from high ranking military officers, of course. He’d heard rumors that Wen Qing’s brother had enlisted and they used him for leverage, which wouldn’t be surprising. He hadn’t expected Wen Qing to give up without a fight.

Wei Ying had written to him once, just after he disappeared, with no return address. 

It’s my fault, it said. Lan Zhan, it was all true, the story was true, but I’m still a liar. I told them I could protect them all, if they went on the record. I promised. I promised Wen Qing. And I couldn’t. I’m sorry, Lan Zhan, I never wanted to be a liar.

And in the end, it meant nothing. Few enough people were getting daily papers, much less actually reading them, and with the immediate retraction, reams and reams being taken off newsstands by military police, it was barely a drop in the storm that was raging. Outside of the newsrooms themselves, at least, where Wei Ying and Wen Qing were nailed up on the wall as a cautionary tale. Free press, up to a point. Sometimes Lan Zhan thinks about what would happen if the story broke today, the impact it could have. But after the retraction, you can’t go back. He can’t think about it too long or the rage overtakes him. Rage for Wei Ying, for Wen Qing, for every person in the article who was smothered and tossed out with nothing. The kind of rage that doesn’t fade, can’t be extinguished.

Lan Zhan shakes himself. Wei Ying is alive. Wen Qing is also alive, most likely. Su She is an idiot.

He only has one message on his answering machine.

“Hey, Lan Zhan, it’s your cousin Lan Liang. Listen, I’ve got something I want to talk to you about. I don’t know if it’s your thing, or if you choose what you cover or whatever, but there’s a kid gone missing here in Moling and some very weird stuff going on at the building sites. I don’t have all the details, but it’s my uncle’s daughter-in-law’s foster kid. Cops aren’t giving them much, so I said I’d call you. I don’t know if the kid went wandering and got hurt or got lost or what, but maybe someone from the Herald can cover it, get the public interest up. Maybe someone knows something. I don’t know. Probably a long shot, but I said I’d call, so there you go. You can reach me at—”

Lan Zhan takes down the number neatly in his calendar. He can call after the 10am meeting, maybe drive out to Moling in the afternoon. The rage is still there, banked and contained and ready to be useful.

Part Three

[misedejem]

Date Nights

Series: Persona 4 Ship: Kannao (Kanji Tatsumi/Naoto Shirogane) Word count: 9196

If ever Naoto was feeling low, Kanji would try harder than ever to show her how much he cared. Little gestures of good will and love that would go towards easing the pain. It had been that way from when they first met, and was still the case after over fifteen years.

So when Naoto found herself with Kanji in a slump and a few hours to spare, she took it upon herself to do the same.

(Basically lots of domestic future headcanon shenaningans~ As a note, Naoto is genderfluid in my fics, and this one uses she/her. AO3 link in the notes)

It had been an awfully long time since the Shiroganes had been working away from home at the same time.

Kanji had become unemployed almost two years ago and had been pooling his resources into his online store since then. And Naoto had been on leave a full year now, because of Chihiro, and then the upheaval and transfer of half the Shirogane agency from Tokyo to Yasoinaba. Save the odd local case, she’d effectively been forced to hang up the detective cap until life calmed down enough for her to return.

It was… a much-needed break. They could mutually agree on that.

Then, less than a month between moving into a house and the agency reopening, Yu Narukami had appeared on their doorstep one evening with ‘encouragement bentos’ and a request. The middle school he worked in as guidance counsellor had suddenly lost a teacher temporarily due to illness. The art teacher. She’d probably need at least six months to recover, but the new semester started in September and it was far too tight a deadline for the board to submit a request for a replacement.

“I mentioned you used to work as an art teacher in Tokyo, Kanji, and they said to ask you as soon as possible.”

Neither of them could have foreseen such a thing… But in a week, their situation had changed from both of them being at home, to both of them returning to work just a day apart from one another.

One day.

What a rare commodity that was.

As much as she adored it, Naoto’s career had always been taxing, keeping her late at night and seldom offering her a chance to catch her breath. After all, the Shirogane agency was lauded all across the country. Grampa had made such a name for it before he had died, and the attention she had gained from the media as the ‘first Detective Prince’ had only served to bolster the Shirogane name’s shining reputation once she’d taken over. That, and the fact that it was the only remaining detective agency in the country that specialised in Shadow-related incidents. They’d become ever more prevalent since the mental shutdowns and the Phantom Thieves incidents a decade ago had made knowledge of them more widespread in the seedier depths of society, and the Shadow Operatives had ensured to keep her busy when the cases grew too complex for them to handle.

That’s why they’d come back to Inaba of all places. With the TV World still very much active, it was the most potent place for illicit Shadow activities to occur in all Japan. And with the murmurings of new information cropping up, the higher ups had figured it may be a good idea to have a team of investigators to hand.

The detective had a lot of work waiting for her when her leave expired.

So, for her to be the one left with the house instead of Kanji for a full day… Well, she couldn’t exactly waste such an occasion.

“Momo, no -!  Don’t… climb in there…” Naoto sighed, watching as her orange tabby clambered her way into one of the cardboard boxes at the far end of the room. She knew it was a fruitless effort to try and stop her. Their other cat didn’t house much love for boxes, but Mochi had been found in one as a kitten and clearly had developed a natural affinity towards them as a result. Half their move had been spent trying to keep her out of them long enough to fill them.

“If you wish to help, the very least you could do would be to climb into the ones I haven’t yet searched,” she told her, crossing over to the box and hoisting Mochi out. “That way, I won’t be wasting any time by delving into boxes twice when I retrieve you.”

Unfortunately, Naoto’s request was not met with much approval. The cat just mewled indignantly, clearly unimpressed and unwilling to cooperate, and scampered behind the large pile in the centre of the garage, leaving the detective to continue her investigation on her own.

It was frankly impressive that all the miscellany crammed into these boxes had fit into their Tokyo apartment; big though it was, it had been severely lacking in storage. Half their belongings – all the stuff they didn’t desperately need - were all packed up in this room, waiting for a spare moment to be put in their rightful place. They’d had five weeks to unpack, and perhaps if they’d still been living as just the two of them, they’d have made more of a dent in it. That would certainly have made Naoto’s current task a considerable deal easier. But all the free time they had now was devoted to Chihiro. She was only just coming up on her first birthday, and she was still very much dependant on her parents every moment that she was awake. Even now, Naoto was only able to search the room because the infant was taking her midmorning nap.

She was looking for a binder Kanji had put together, containing a collection of their favourite recipes that he’d found online or written down over the years. Somehow, it had gotten separated from the recipe books when they had packed away their kitchen, and it had not yet resurfaced. This was a major blockade in her plan for the day. She needed that binder. Desperately.

Kanji had seemed rather perturbed as he’d prepared for work that morning. In fact, he’d seemed uneasy about it from the moment Yu had asked him to take it. It was… unlike him. He’d worked as an art teacher in a middle school back in the city for four years, and he’d loved every minute of it.

“Hmm? Course I want the job,” he’d told her when she’d questioned him about it over breakfast. “I miss this kinda shit, you know that.”

He had a smile on his face as he tried spooning a blob of mushed fruits into Chihiro’s mouth, but it was a strained smile if nothing else.

“You just seem tense, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well… So do you. Goin’ back to work after havin’ a kid is s’posed to be kinda rough.” He shrugged.

“I can’t deny that…” Naoto sighed. “Even knowing that your mother will be there for her, and that you’re only doing part time hours, the idea of leaving her alone at all is more taxing on me than I could ever have expected… That’s all it is though?”

Naoto could think of several other reasons Kanji might have to be nervous about this particular job. But on the off chance that they hadn’t crossed his mind yet, she refrained from bringing them up. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel worse.

There was a pause, filled only by Chihiro’s babbles and the sound of the cats zooming about the living room after one another in a burst of energy. As he scraped the last of the baby food from the pot and offered it to their daughter, Kanji’s face began to fall ever so slightly, and before long he was sighing.

“I really gotta… stop overlookin’ that I’m married to a detective.  I am scared shitless of leavin’ Chihiro for the first time. If anythin’s wrong, it’s that most of all. But uh… Otherwise I’m just a little weirded out.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Middle school – this middle school – is kinda… where I started to get a bad rep… What… I dunno, what if they take one look at me and realise who I am and kick me out? Like, they don’t realise ‘Shirogane Kanji’ is actually ‘Tatsumi Kanji’ an’ once they do they won’t want me anymore? They don’t know why I resigned from my last job either, what if they think I did something bad an’–”

As his voice grew louder and more sporadic, his panic becoming so apparent that it was palpable, Naoto scooted her way over to him and slipped her arms around his waist, resting her head gently on his chest.

“You left on your own terms because you disliked the way the school was being run. You don’t have to disclose why. And Kan-chan… you don’t mean to tell me that I’ve kept you from your hometown for so long that you’ve forgotten what it’s like? Inaba isn’t overly massive – rumours spread fast. I daresay there isn’t a person here who doesn’t know that the Tatsumi boy married that Detective Shirogane person. Especially not with how much your mother talks about us.”

She held him close for a while, rubbing her hand across his back even after his heart stopped pounding so hard, and his muscles began to relax.

“Yeah… I know… I know it’s a stupid thing to worry about, an’ that there ain’t no point in getting’ worked up about it…”

“Well, it’s not… stupid. I’d say it’s a perfectly reasonable thing to be concerned about, given the impact it had on you in the past. But I can assure you of this: they wouldn’t have hired you if they thought you were unfit for the position.”

He nodded, and a smile appeared on his face again – a genuine one, this time. For the rest of the morning, his dour disposition had dissipated somewhat, and his spirits certainly seemed higher when he had left the house.

But even if she had managed to cheer him up, Naoto knew the day would be a challenge for him no matter how many positive sentiments she sent his way. Returning to a place you had been mistreated, even after nearly twenty years had passed, was difficult enough as it was, without the thought of leaving your baby for the first time nagging at you as well.

That’s why she needed that binder. It contained the recipe for one of Kanji’s all-time favourite curries, one she believed even she could produce, and she figured he might need something like that when he returned home.

He often did little ‘date nights’ from home for them, for birthdays or anniversaries, or even just when Naoto was struggling with a tough case and needed a distraction or treat. They would put on whatever was comfortable, sit down with a meal and a drink, and more often than not, end up in a snuggled-up heap on the couch with a movie flickering on in the background. She hosted her fair share of them as well, but admittedly hers often involved an expensive night out at a restaurant. Kanji was the better cook, and he considered it a hobby more than simply something one needed to do to survive, but Naoto lacked the skill or drive to make a hand-crafted date night even without her long hours.

But this night would be an exception. She suddenly found herself with eight hours at home without him, and she would be a fool not to use that time to surprise him in the same way he always would with her. She’d throw him a date night so damn enjoyable that he’d forget all about his anxieties, no matter the cost.

That was… if she could find the damned recipe she needed to carry out her plan.

And so, she perused box after box in her investigation, leaving not even one overlooked. Old case files she’d had sent over from the Shirogane estate that had once belonged to her grandfather. An assortment of holiday decorations that really needed separating by date. Kanji’s miscellaneous box of scrap material. A box marked for charity of Naoto’s old clothes that had stopped fitting since she’d had Chihiro. Plushies. More plushies. Even the container of extra crockery, things that had come from the kitchen itself, bore no sign of the item she sought. An hour passed as though it were seconds, yielding nothing of value.

Had Kanji already moved it? It wasn’t as though she could ask him… Had they forgotten it? No, that apartment was spotless when they’d moved out. She’d triple checked it herself.

She foresaw herself spending all day searching at this rate… but she didn’t have all day. He’d be staying late for a debriefing, but even so, Kanji would still probably be home for five o’clock, and she still had to go to Junes to fetch the ingredients she was going to need.

Perhaps she could look it up online again? That was where Kanji had found it originally…

She sat herself, cross legged, on an old rug and pulled out her phone, plugging in the name of the recipe into a search engine, lifting her arm so that Mochi – tired of hiding – could come and curl up in her lap. And then, running the fingers of her free hand through Mochi’s fur, she began to scroll and click every site she could find.

But she recalled vividly the constitution of the page she was searching for, and none of these were it. She’d never read the words herself – having never made the recipe – and Kanji had decided to crop the name of the site it was from to maintain the ‘aesthetic’ of the folder, but she knew what it looked like. The colours, the typeface, the accompanying picture.

Nothing.

It was entirely possible the site had been redesigned or deleted. In which case she was out of luck online… It wouldn’t work for her to try a different recipe, it had to be that one. If it wasn’t that one, it wouldn’t taste the same, and then it wouldn’t be his favourite. Irritation began to swell within her as her endeavour began to look more fruitless, and she had to take a few moments to breathe and calm a little before moving onto her last resort: checking with Mrs. Tatsumi, with Yakushiji, and the Investigation Team on the off chance that maybe Kanji had lent them the recipe at some point.

Nos all around.

The irritation grew stronger.

And then, as though a timer had gone off signifying the end of her allotted time, the baby monitor sprung to life.

***

“Are… You even listening?”

Naoto huffed and folded her arms, wearing her most devastating expression of disappointment as she shook her head. She’d been talking for a good ten minutes, and she was beginning to wonder if any of it had been heard at all.

“’Course we are. You want to do something cute and romantic for the big guy, because you’re secretly a massive softie, but your first idea went bust.”

Yosuke offered her a cheeky wink and raised his soda cup in a mock toast, before turning back to fawn over Chihiro in Chie’s arms.

“But I dunno how you expect us to concentrate on anything else when you’ve brought this adorable little muffin along,” Chie added, putting on a baby voice and ‘booping’ said muffin on the nose. Chihiro giggled, her tiny face absolutely beaming with delight.

“Oh, I expect you to manage perfectly. If I can – if Kanji can – despite seeing every cute thing she ever does, then it should be no problem for somebody only exposed to it for a short while.”

A couple of hours had passed since Naoto had given up her search for the original recipe and had elected to change tactic. She would simply have to find… a different meal entirely. One that would still mean as much to Kanji. But a quick scour of the recipe books they had on hand in the kitchen yielded nothing.  And so, once Chihiro was fed and dressed appropriately for the late summer warmth, she walked her over to Junes to grab some supplies, hoping that by some pure miracle, looking at the ingredients on offer would spark some form of inspiration within her. Only, out of sheer coincidence, she had managed to time her visit perfectly with the end of Yosuke’s shift, and Chie’s day off.

The two of them could often be found talking in the food court on their off-hours. It had been that way since high school, through all the changes and remodels they’d made to the layout of the store over the years and would likely continue to be that way as long as Junes stood and they remained in Inaba. It was the secret headquarters of the Investigation Team, after all. It wasn’t a place you could so easily give up.

So, guided by tradition, they all sat together, sharing a Takoyaki selection in the summer breeze – a welcome change from the mustiness of the Shirogane residence garage – Yosuke and Chie completely spellbound by the baby while Naoto explained her predicament. She had hoped they’d be a little more attentive, and frankly more helpful, but… she supposed she couldn’t fault them. Chihiro was effectively their niece, and she’d been in Tokyo for the past year.

But at least they were making her happy. Seeing her so ecstatic, despite Kanji being gone for so long, certainly helped ease some of the anxieties she had been feeling about leaving her. Getting her acquainted properly with the people who would likely be babysitting her until well into her teens was certainly not a bad thing… although… Naoto was on a tight schedule.

“Aaanyway.” She rapped the table lightly with the tips of her fingers. “Regretfully my first idea – the one that was ah… ‘bust’, as you said – was also my only idea. I’m currently running at a loss on where to proceed from here…”

At the very least they were nodding along now, and looking at her as she spoke.

“…Chie-chan, do you have date nights? What do you usually do?”

“Hmm? Yeah, of course we do! But, uh… Yukiko and I always go out for ‘em. You know, because the inn keeps her so busy and I –”

“Can’t cook anything without it coming out tasting of cardboard?” Yosuke supplied, grinning. Chie shot him a mean look, but nodded nonetheless.

“Pretty much…”

“In most instances, that would be my go-to as well,” Naoto said, holding back a grin at Yosuke’s comment. “Hand-crafted anything is Kanji’s forte, not mine, but… we both agree the ones at home are more enjoyable, no matter how good the food may be in a restaurant.”

“You’re like… the most private people I’ve ever known, so that isn’t surprising.”

She gave an affirming nod. Lovely as it was to go all out sometimes at an expensive eatery, there were always… stares. No matter where they were, people would see them and notice. Sometimes they’d simply recognise the Detective Prince, and that was all they’d see. But other times their eyes would linger longer. They’d take note of Kanji’s piercings and spikes combined with the cute animals and soft colours, analyse Naoto’s dedication to old English fashion and deliberate lack of conformity to any gender, and then keep their gazes trained on the two of them as they attempted to pick apart every contrasting aspect. The way they looked and dressed alone, the way they looked and dressed together… it made going out in public difficult for two people who both struggled to some degree with social anxieties and a history of being scrutinised for the way they were.

Kanji had left the house worrying he was going to be judged. She didn’t want to put him through that twice in one day.

“Well, is there anything else you’ve made before that you know he likes?” Yosuke asked, helping himself to the Takoyaki  

Naoto frowned. “Well, yes, but all of it is rather… typical? I have a small repertoire, you see.”

“So you want something different? Hmm… Why don’t you just go ham?” Chie suggested with a genuine smile. “Grab stuff you think’ll go together and make a totally new curry. Heck, doesn’t even gotta be curry.”

“That’s how you end up with Mystery Food X: Redux,” Yosuke warned, and Chie’s smile instantly vanished. “Though actually, Naoto… In your sensible hands you’d probably be okay. You actually know how to cook.”

“If I wasn’t holding a baby right now, I would kick you.”

“Without a recipe at all…?” For a moment, the detective was left perplexed. But before long, a thought came across her mind, and that irritation from earlier came grumbling back into her periphery. “Yosuke-kun. Please. I simply don’t have the time to spare for your… japes and mockery. I need you to be serious.”

She expected him to laugh, as he often would when she caught him out while he was joking. She didn’t do so very often, loathe as she was to admit it, and it had become something of a game to Yosuke to see how long he could keep pushing her buttons.

But this time he threw up his hands instead, with… was that his face now contorted in confusion as well?

“H-hey, I am being serious. Promise. If you genuinely have no other ideas, then I begrudgingly accept that Chie might be onto something.”

“And I’m supposed to do that without instructions?” She asked incredulously, raising her eyebrows. Was she being foolish and naïve? Or was Yosuke the one reeking of inexperience? “You act as though you believe I have time to memorise every food combination, and how to make them work. I am a detective, not a chef, Yosuke-kun. Recipes exist so that I don’t have to preoccupy my brain with trivialities such as cooking from memory.”

“Hey, it was Chie’s idea, not mine!”

“You should know better.”

The raised voices and snipes were a staple of any conversation involving Yosuke and Chie, and at this point Naoto had come to learn that it was largely performative. They ‘fought’ with warm regards. She’d even reached a point where she was able to go along with it without utterly deflating the mood. But to Chihiro, with no grasp of the concept of banter, it was all just loud, frightening noises coming from people she didn’t know all too well. The conversation very quickly had to switch courses when a crying spell threatened to rear its head.

“You know… you never asked me what I do for date nights,” Yosuke pointed out once the baby had been settled. She now lay propped up on Naoto’s lap, nodding off with her little head resting on her chest. Naoto constantly considered herself fortunate that Chihiro wasn’t especially fussy. Sometimes on a good day all she needed to calm right down was a cuddle.

“Hmm?” she looked up. If Yosuke had said anything before that, she had been too preoccupied with gently coaxing her daughter to nap to hear it. “Oh, no, I suppose I didn’t…”

Chie, who had moved into the more comfortable position of resting her chin on her hand now her arms were free, scoffed slightly.

“Dude. Maybe because you don’t have anybody to date?”

“Well… No, but I’ve been on dates. More than one with the same person. I have experience, I’m just… not experiencing it right now.” He rubbed the back of his neck, casting his gaze off to the side. “Dinner dates aren’t really my thing though…”

“So, why’d you even bring it up?”

“Hey! I’ve been on… like, one dinner date. I’m just not the guru of them!” He shrugged. “It’s an interesting story actually… I got set up a few years ago by my bandmates, and it turns out the guy isn’t my type at all. But I didn’t want to say no without at least giving him a chance, so… Y’know. He wants to go out to this fancy French place, but we get there and they’re closing early because of… Uh, I think the kitchen flooded or something like that? So, he takes me back to his place and leaves me there, runs off to go shopping, and comes back and cooks a three-course French meal himself.”

“And you didn’t marry him on the spot?”

“Nah. We did a couple more dates but it didn’t really work out. We weren’t super compatible...”

“Is this why you get Rise to vet anybody you’re gonna date now?”

“Pretty much. You guys know me best, so…”

The two of them continued to talk, but from Naoto’s perspective, their voices had been drowned by her thoughts into a dull and distant murmur. From the moment Yosuke had finished his story, the gears in her brain had whirred into motion, working their way into fabricating a plan formed from his words.

It had hit her at last. A wave of inspiration and relief, tantamount to the feeling she would have when she’d finally cracked the secret to a particularly arduous case.

A plan. Followed by a conjured image of how Kanji’s face might look when he saw it.

“Yosuke-kun…” she began, standing slowly so that she did not wake the baby and gently lowering her into the buggy she had parked next to her seat. “Would you be able to look something up for me? While my hands are full.”

***

January 19th, 2025. Little over a year and a half ago. London, England. They’d been abroad for a few weeks at that point, Naoto on a case for the Shadow Operatives, and Kanji taking advantage of her hotel room to table at an artist’s alley in a convention.

It was something of a special occasion. Kanji’s 29th birthday had been the original cause for celebration, but to him at least that was very much an aside. It was, what, only three hours prior to reaching the restaurant that they’d found out Naoto was pregnant.

There had been several sources for the reasoning behind Naoto’s choice in establishment, and unlike most of her destination picks while they’d been in London, none of them had a single thing to do with Sherlock Holmes. The ones that stood out the most: a churning in her stomach – simultaneously a mental and a physical reaction to her current condition – and a particularly mournful image of her mother-in-law from a few months prior.

“There was this little place my late husband and I would always take Kanji when he was young, if we had to travel to Okina. Italian, it was, family run. I just heard from a customer that it was recently shut down because the owner passed. It has me a little down to think of, that’s all Naoto dear.”

A precious memory from Kanji’s childhood was no small matter, harrowing as such a thing was to think. And Italian… parsing through her options in her mind as she browsed the local restaurants on one of those food apps, Naoto took note of how the one being advertised made her insides turn the least at the thoughts of it. It was one of those smaller, more community-based places, while the others were either going to be full of too-rich smells for her poor stomach to handle, or full of classy, antiquated rules and stares that she didn’t feel up to taking that day.

She didn’t want to make her husband eat hotel food on his birthday… And nor did she want to worry him all evening by being exceptionally edgy. So it didn’t take very long at all for her to have dialled the number for the family-run Italian place, and had booked them a table for two that evening.

The food had been… good. Standard fare for that kind of place. But Naoto was a harsh critic – even without feeling deeply unwell, she had been to Italy. And yet, in all the fifteen years she had known Kanji, she could not recall a single meal out where he seemed to have enjoyed himself quite as much as that. The rush of euphoria from learning he was going to be a father had apparently been enough to turn any experience he may have had that night into the best date night of his life. And Naoto knew the kind of man he was. Sentimental, perceptive, prone to dwelling on the little things. He’d remember, starkly, what he had eaten then.

It was just a pasta meal. She recalled it being made with chicken and a creamy, pesto-based sauce, and Yosuke’s internet search had quickly pulled up a recipe for something along those lines. It wouldn’t be the same – these places kept their recipes close to the heart – but that didn’t matter. Her plan had now become a case of finding something symbolic, over finding something that tasted good.

“I think he’s really starting to rub off on you,” Yosuke had noted as Naoto had prepared to rush off to grab the ingredients from the recipe he had found. “Kanji, I mean. In a good way.”

She’d queried him on that. Her own sharpness didn’t exactly extend to analysing herself.

“I just meant that five years ago, I don’t think you’d ever have thought to do something like this. I always took you for the… less cliché of the two of you. Didn’t you propose to him spontaneously in a cat café? If you don’t mind me asking… why is this the first thing you thought to do for him?”

A pause for Naoto to collect her thoughts. One that, much to everyone’s surprise, didn’t last nearly as long as it might have.

“It’s… because this is logical to me. A dinner date – it’s the simplest, most common activity in the books. It’s a cliché because its effective. Because food is one of those love languages that transcends barriers, and to somebody who struggles in most social situations, like Kanji, like me, you must understand that something like this is a life saver. It’s a change to our routine that really doesn’t change all that much.” She smiled to herself. “Kanji does this to make me feel happy. So many people do, for the person they love. It only makes sense to me that I follow their lead.”

It was that way for most matters of the heart, she thought to herself as she balanced a packet of chicken on the hood of the buggy. She had never known how to act in these situations, how to express the feelings she had. And while she’d devised some unique little ways that she had managed to convey to Kanji, oftentimes the most effective means of telling him that she loved him was to simply use another person’s idea as a foundation. She had her own experiences as proof that it worked. After all, Kanji was a person who had been so starved for and scared of affection as a child that now, almost anything that said ‘I care about you’ was enough to draw him to tears. And Naoto was no different. He was more physical than her, and really that was the only major way in which their feelings towards romance diverged. The things that made one of them happy was sure to leave the other in the same state.

***

Naoto loved Kanji more than she hated cooking. That was really the defining fact that made this entire plan of hers possible at all.

Because she really hated cooking.

“I’ll prolly be home in like… forty minutes,” Kanji had told her over the phone when she’d given him a tentative call at just gone four to gauge how long she had. Pasta wasn’t exactly something she could make well in advance – just the thought of reheating it or overcooking it made her skin crawl. It was one of those things she needed to be perfect. Kanji, thankfully, didn’t have a preference.

So, she’d had to leave making the actual meal until as close to Kanji’s arrival as she could predict. But it wasn’t as though she had time to spare… She had to make the table, feed the cats, feed the baby, put the baby down for a nap…  

Then she had to cook the chicken and the pasta… that was fine, it just… radiated a lot of heat for a day that was already rather warm. Inaba’s houses were old, and they didn’t yet have much ventilation or air conditioning.

Then was the sauce, and she had to do some vegetables, but she had to keep stirring the sauce so it didn’t ruin the consistency, and she had to keep turning the meat and the veggies so they wouldn’t burn, and oh, the pasta might stick or become overdone if she wasn’t careful. Then it would just become stressful. Every meal, every time. No matter how methodical she tried to be, it would always devolve into this.

It was a focus thing, she was sure. When she homed in on a task or a detail, it became quite difficult to switch gears on the fly. A useful skill for analysing a murder case. Not so much for cooking.

It was why, when they were both at home, she and Kanji would often just cook dinner together.

But occasionally, and for the sake of somebody she cared about, it was worth it.

She was just at the stage where she was plating up the food, trying to get it to look as it did in the picture on the website, when the familiar sight of an old, dusty car that had at one point been purple staggered its way up their driveway, starkly contrasted with the shiny motorcycle it had pulled up next to. As Kanji climbed from the car, Naoto carefully studied his face, trying to glean from his expression how exactly he was feeling in that moment. But Kanji had a naturally angry look to him, so such a task was often difficult to undertake.

“You makin’ garlic bread, Nao?” he called from the porch almost as soon as the door had slid shut.

“You’ll see,” was all she said in response. With Kanji just moments away from seeing what she had done, she found herself buzzing with anticipation.

“Wuzzat s’posed to mean?” he asked, sticking his head around the door into the kitchen.

For a moment, his forehead crinkled as he took everything in, his eyes lingering on the table made up as closely to that of a restaurant as Naoto could manage, with cloth, candles, and an arrangement of Kanji’s favourite red roses (albeit that was rather haphazardly done).

And in that moment Naoto felt as though her heart had somehow managed to stall.

But the tension was brief, quickly dissipated by the biggest, goofiest grin taking up a huge portion of Kanji’s face.

He strode into the room and pulled his partner into a powerful hug all in a motion that was so fluid, you wouldn’t think it was Kanji performing it.

“I can see you’re ready to reopen the agency, huh?”

Naoto smiled and shook her head, before snuggling her cheek into Kanji’s chest. “Don’t mistake this for a fit of boredom – I’ve been anything but. Welcome to our first date night back in Inaba.”

“Huh? W-wait, hold up… Date night? You did this… fer me?”

His eyes threatened to grow wider than his smile had those few moments earlier, as the realisation of the circumstances slowly began to dawn on him.

Then, as was customary for Kanji whenever Naoto would do anything for him ever, his face turned a brilliant shade of scarlet, and he began stammering unintelligible gibberish.

“Quickly now, before it cools down!”

“Y…Yuh…”

This was… odd. Kanji seemed unequivocally, unprecedentedly broken. His movements as he crossed to the counter and grabbed his plate, were mechanical, shaken, even. They weren’t unheard of for him, but it was as though they had suddenly been transported fifteen years into the past once more. Before they had fallen in love, before they’d even been close friends, when Kanji was so overcome with embarrassment whenever they spoke that he would be unable to function.

Now they were married, it wasn’t exactly commonplace.

Had something happened to him at work which had left him overwhelmed?

“Kanji?” Naoto called out tentatively as they took their seats.

“…huh?”

“You seem… Rather out of it.”

He blinked a couple of times and shook his head. “Right. Yeah… Sorry…”

He cleared his throat and repeated the process of shaking his head.

“It’s just, uh… ‘M kinda at a loss for words. This is… Wow.”

A tension she hadn’t recognised until it was gone suddenly flooded from her body with a sigh of relief.

“For a moment there I was concerned that something was wrong, so –”

“More like… everythin’ is right. I never pegged you fer someone who’d do date nights Tatsumi style.”

“…Tatsumi style? So this…” she waved an arm across the table. “This is something you observed… what, from your parents?”

He nodded. Naoto didn’t realise it was possible for him to turn redder until just then.

“Ain’t really a lotta options for fancy restaurants like what you do out here. Ma and my old man always improvised at home. I know cookin’ yer partner a meal ain’t somethin’ my folks made up, they just ended up callin’ it that… Nickname kinda stuck.” He rubbed the back of his head.

“Well, I suppose I have rather adopted a Tatsumi way of behaving today. Our roles have been utterly reversed. Why, I daresay after dinner, I shall take up a crochet project, and you’ll lull our Chihiro to sleep by reading her more of ‘A Study in Scarlet’.”

“I love you, Naoto.”

“Eh?”

But instead of elaborating, Kanji simply left his partner to turn an equally furious shade of red while he took a bite of the food. Naoto found herself so flustered that she didn’t even have time to be nervous about him trying the dish.

But, she supposed, she didn’t really have anything to worry about. This was Kanji.

“…I better never hear the words ‘I’m not very good at cooking’ comin’ from yer mouth again.”

“Well… Regardless of the quality of the food –” she began, about to launch into a spiel about how the mess she made, and how stressful it was for her, suggested that she technically wasn’t exactly on the level of a master. But all it took from Kanji was a single glare, and she stopped herself.

This was supposed to be a pleasant evening. And he did hate when she was self-deprecating in any capacity.

“I’m glad you like it Kan-chan.” She smiled, taking her own first bite. Hmm. Not bad. She wasn’t sure how this was supposed to taste – she’d been feeling far too unwell that night in London to eat much at all, so she’d ordered a lighter dish – but how it did taste was pleasant.

“Better than it was on my birthday that one time. Dunno if you remember, but at that one Italian place when we were in England –”

“Where do you suppose I gained the inspiration to make this particular meal?”

“Huh? Well shit, haha. Last time I ever doubt yer memory.”

“Hm, well… I don’t think I’m capable of forgetting that day…”

Kanji slid his free hand across the table and placed it atop hers, rubbing his thumb soothingly over her knuckles. Strange, she noted, that the nail was still painted black; she was sure the school would make him take the colour off alongside his piercings.

A nagging feeling in her chest, her stomach, her mind was begging her to ask him how it had gone. But it was not the only train of thought on the feeling that she had. What if Kanji didn’t want to talk about it yet? What if it was best to simply… enjoy the meal in ignorant bliss? Was he waiting for the right time, or for her to say something?

He looked as though he were about to speak now, was that the subject he was going to bring up?

“How has Chihiro been today?”

No. Of course not. The subject of work would have to wait.

As with… most of their conversations over the past year, the rest of the meal was largely dominated with Chihiro. Naoto describing, in detail, exactly what she had done, and Kanji’s expression growing fonder and fonder with every word. By the time they were done eating, he looked as though he were going to cry.

“Kinda sad that this is our lives goin’ forwards…”

“Hm?”

“Nothin’… just been missin’ her at work is all.”

The nagging feeling was very quickly becoming anxiety. The first mention of his day all evening, and it was something negative.

“Kanji, was everything –”

A sound suddenly stole her words before she had the chance to finish. A baby crying, as audible through the walls as it was the baby monitor on the counter.

“Prolly needs changing, huh?” Kanji smiled, rising to his feet. “Mind if I take this?”

“Please… She probably misses you too.”

In the time that Kanji was attending to the baby, Naoto managed to load everything that needed cleaning into the dishwasher, and found her way to the living room, and then to the couch. But her mind wasn’t exactly responsive as she did so.

Kanji… was worse than she had anticipated… More than just a simple meal could possibly hope to fix. Why on earth… What delusion had she been under to think, with how he’d been these past few days, that a little romantic gesture would be all he needed to feel better.

Amidst the haze that was buzzing in her mind, she vaguely registered her hands clenching into fists.

At some point, goodness knew when, Kanji had reappeared in the room and had sat down next to her, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“She’s back down. Heh… Wanted to play as soon as she saw me, the little tyke, but could barely keep her eyes open long enough to do it.”

“She’s had… a busy day.”

“Ain’t we all?” he said with an air of exhaustion about him, placing his glasses gently on the kotatsu in front of them and then sinking back into the couch. “You ready for tomorrow?”

“I’ve been ready for weeks. Waiting on other people…” Naoto mumbled in response. Her gaze had fallen as she’d spoken to her socks, and she could not bring herself to remove it until Kanji nudged her with his arm.

“Hey. You good, Nao?”

“…Are you?”

That brought the conversation to a standstill.

“Would ya believe me if I told ya I was jus’ tired?”

“Only… partially.”

He gave her a half smile and repositioned himself so that his head lay on her shoulder.

“It was… a pretty exhaustin’ day… Lotta new stuff. Lotta old stuff too… that school ain’t changed in twenty years. Amazing it’s managed so long.”

Naoto just made an affirming noise and let her hand come to rest on his shoulder, pressing her cheek onto the top of his head. Best just to let him speak, she thought.

“Ain’t none of the people I knew still there but… they knew who I was. Course they did… didn’t expect any different. An’ you know what?”

“Hm?”

“Most of ‘em just complimented me on the plushies. They knew me ‘cause of the shop, not… ‘cause of the delinquent shit.”

“Well, that’s… good, is it not? That’s what we hoped would happen.”

She felt him shift his head as though he were trying to nod. His arm had worked its way around her waist, and she felt him bunching up the fabric of her dress shirt in his fingers as he spoke. It was an unconscious habit of his. Most notable when he was nervous.

“Yeah… Never said it weren’t good. Jus’ that I was tired. And that I missed my kid. And you.”

Naoto drew a deep breath. “It seemed like something was wrong, that’s all. I’ve been worried about you. All day. All week.”

“…That why you’re not okay?”

“Yes! Effectively!”

Another brief standstill.

“Sorry ‘bout that… Really… Last thing I wanted was for my bullshit worrying over nothing to affect you too.”

Naoto squeezed his shoulder slightly.

“You should know by now that such a thing is impossible. The same can be said of you, to me. We’ve been in this partnership since we were in high-school, Kan-chan, we can’t simply… hide our true feelings any longer. We know each other too well to be caught out.”

“Yeah… s’pose you’re right… I did appreciate it though. Back before I went in today and realised my worries were a load ‘a crap. I… I dunno, I guess comin’ back to Inaba after so long had me thinkin’ that everythin’ was gonna go back to the way it was.”

“Kanji… You weren’t… Please don’t tell me you’ve been thinking that way since we first planned to come.”

Silence. Naoto’s heart dropped. Obviously, that meant she was right on the mark.

Good lord, she had still been expecting when they’d first discussed moving back! Their daughter was one in a week!

“’s in the past now though. All of it,” he said eventually. “Physically this place ain’t no different, but I guess the vibe has changed since we were kids. Maybe… Enough time has passed now that I ain’t gotta worry about… the guy I was.”

“Kanji… I rescind what I said earlier. About how it’s impossible to hide our feelings from each other. Please… when it’s something serious like this, I implore you to tell me.”

Her eyes stung, but she refused to cry. If she did, he’d try to make this about her, and dammit, she was tired of it being about her. The entire point of everything she had done that day was to make it about Kanji for once in his life.

“…’M sorry, Nao…”

After that, for a long while neither of them spoke. They simply adjusted themselves into a position where they could more easily cuddle and sat there, snuggled into each other as the dwindling oranges and purples of the twilight sky gave way to darkness.

Kanji was the one to break the silence, his voice so slick with sleepiness that it was demure in a way which was much unlike him.

“Hey Nao… Yer still awake, right?”

“Mmhmm…” she responded. It was… mostly true.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinkin’. I got a new goal now we’re back here… I wanna be able to look that bastard in the eye and tell him he ain’t me. Not because I’m denyin’ anythin’, but because he ain’t.”

“Him? Your Shadow?”

“Yeah. Like you can, y’know? If your Shadow popped their head back up and started sayin’ the same shit as before, you could just tell ‘em: ‘you’re wrong.’ ‘Cause they would be.”

“But they wouldn’t say something like that. My age and gender no longer cause me grief to the level they had in my youth, so my Shadow wouldn’t bring them up.”

Of course, they wouldn’t. Naoto thought that was obvious. She was thirty-one, very much an adult, and any doubt she had about whether she was a man or a woman were significantly eased when she had learned that she could be both and neither. She had no lack of confidence in those aspects of herself, regardless now of what other people thought, so there was no way the Shadow could use them as ammunition if they were to reappear.

But based on Kanji’s next statement, suddenly full of more vigour than his words prior, she wondered if perhaps she had misunderstood where he was coming from.

“Yeah, but that’s what I’m saying! The stuff your Shadow said back then… It ain’t even crossin’ your mind anymore. I wanna be the same… I mean… It’s not that I ain’t happy with who I am. I like cute shit, and sewing, and all the stuff like that. Shit, I’m bi as hell. I can say that stuff proudly. It’s…” he huffed. “For some reason, it’s like I can be confident in myself all I want, but in my head it don’t mean shit unless everyone else feels the same way. An' as long as I got a history as 'the guy who beats up bikers', it's like that day ain't gonna come... I’m… still scared shitless of bein’ rejected after all these years... It’s like… every time I meet a new group of people, I just end up wonderin’ how long its gonna be before they brand me a thug and cut me and everyone I care about off. Think that’s kinda the reason it’s been weighin’ on me again so much more recently. I start comin’ up with scenarios in my head where it gets outta hand and Chihiro gets hurt ‘cause of it.”

As he spoke, his hug became tighter.

“Kan-chan…”

“So, my goal is to get to a place where I don’t constantly worry about that stuff. Where if that bastard showed up again and said that kinda shit, I could deny him with my whole heart and know for certain that I’m right an’ he’s wrong. An’ before you say shit, I know that ain’t how Shadows work. That’s jus’ the image I use in my head to try an’ visualise what I’m itchin’ to do.”

He added that last part with a hint of a laugh to his tone.

So that was why he took a job he was so caught up about? As some concrete way of proving to himself that he would be okay if he did?

A self-destructive means of gathering evidence for a hypothesis… hm… perhaps Naoto’s inheritance of Kanji’s traits over the years had gone the other way as well.

“I didn’t realise it was possible to be so unbelievably proud of somebody, while simultaneously thinking them a fool…” Naoto ensured to keep her own tone bright, so that he would know she spoke in endearing terms. “You know I would have supported you through this if only you had told me –”

“Hah. Yer actin’ like you take me for the kinda guy who thinks this shit through… this ain’t exactly something I’ve been plannin’ or nothin’, it just sorta… came to me now.”

Oh, so it was a subconscious instinct?

Then perhaps he would be safe from her bad influence for just a little while longer…

“Well… regardless of how much preparation has gone into it… it is a good goal to have in mind, so long as you’re comfortable with the pain it may bring in the process.”

“Yeah. No problem. Anyway…” he sat up and looked her in the eyes. “What was that you were implyin’ with the whole ‘you know I would have supported you’ bull you just said?”

Naoto frowned. “It’s the truth –”

“Yeah, I know it’s the truth. Because you have been supportin’ me, dumbass. You ain’t ever stopped.” He thrust his arm in the vague, general direction of the kitchen, a wild delight dancing in his eyes. “You spent the last day of yer maternity leave makin’ sure I’d have a good evenin’ because you thought I needed cheerin’ up.”

Naoto felt her cheeks heat up. “I… I only did what you would do for me…”

“Yeah, but it ain’t like I made you do it. You still made the decision. It’s amazin’, an yer incredible, and adorable, an’ you make a freakin’ awesome pasta, an’ I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

She knew she was blushing harder and harder with every word, to the point where all she could think to do was bury her face into his shoulder.

“Feel kinda bad that we kinda got side-tracked from the ‘date night’ though… Sorry if you had anything else planned.”

“No, no, don’t feel bad. I did this because I thought you needed it, Kanji. And I don’t suppose I’m wrong in suggesting that you very much needed this talk as well?”

“…You ain’t wrong… Not at all.”

“And do you feel any better for having it?”

“Mmhmm.”

Naoto lifted her head and gave him her warmest smile. “Then I can safely declare this date night a resounding success.”

“Damn right, you can! But uh… I don’t wanna take away from anythin’ else you mighta wanted to do, so –”

The heat in her cheeks returned as quickly as it had vanished, and she sheepishly averted his gaze. Right. Date night was usually more than a meal.

“Uhm... About that. Kanji, I’ll be perfectly honest with you, I… I was so caught up in trying to find a recipe for dinner that it never even occurred to me to look for a movie or something to do afterwards.”

She offered him an apologetic look, but his immediate response was only to laugh and hold her closer.

“Don’t think I coulda made it through a movie anyway… I’m beat…”

“As am I. I think I may drift off here…”

It quickly became apparent that each of their ideal end to the evening would be to turn in early and hope to gain a restful night – something that was near impossible with a small child. Whether such a thing was an indication of how eventful their day had been, or whether it was simply a sign of them getting older, neither really cared to consider. Instead, they just ensured the house was secure, called the cats to follow them, and moved upstairs as quietly as they could so that their footsteps wouldn’t cause Chihiro to stir.

It wasn’t until Naoto had switched her outfit for one of Kanji’s old shirts and was brushing her teeth in the upstairs bathroom that it dawned on her: there was still one aspect of her day that had yet to be cleared up.

And now that it had come to mind, she feared she may be unable to sleep until she had an answer.

“Kan-chan?”

“Hm?”

“You know the binder you keep with recipe print-outs…? Do you have any idea what box it’s in?”

His face was mostly buried by the bedsheets by now, but she could tell from the part she could see that he was thinking hard.

“Uh… Oh! My car.”

“…Your car?”

“Yeah. I didn’t want the other kitchen stuff to squash it, so I put it separate. I see it every time I go in there an’ I keep saying I’ll bring it in and never do. How come…?”

Naoto heaved a great sigh and flopped on the bed besides him. It wasn’t until her face hit the pillow that she realised exactly how exhausting her day had been. “So you had it all along… I never would have found it.”

“You were lookin’ for it?”

“I was. I wanted to make you that curry instead, the one you called your favourite.”

“Ohhhh. I getcha now." He laughed. "That woulda been a good choice. But y’know anythin’ would have been fine. I got a real soft-spot for Italian food, hehe.”

“I like that curry myself though,” she added, as she shuffled under the covers. “It’s rare to find something spicy that you can handle as much as I…”

“You do, huh? I see.”

There was silence for a while. And then…

“Hey, Naoto…?”

“Mmm?”

“When’s your next day off?”

“My next day off…? That would be Sunday… Why?”

But Kanji didn’t answer. Instead, he just leaned over to kiss her goodnight, and then, with a sleepy smile, he rolled over and went to sleep.

[rkived]

drabble #4: a look back into pediatricsurgeon!jungkook’s and generalsurgeon!reader’s friendship throughout med school. 

or, what those infamous ‘‘med school vibes’’ are all about. 

(hospitalplaylist!au)

↩ previous | 📍drabbles masterlist | next ↪️

JUNGKOOK’S FIRST YEAR OF MED SCHOOL.

‘‘Okay, let’s begin.’’ 

Taehyung’s face is puffed up, barely awake. Just five minutes ago he was dreaming about being the mayor of Springfield, the fictional town in The Simpsons, and now he’s quizzing his roommate, Jungkook, before his big Pharmacology exam. 

‘‘What’s bioavailability?’’ 

Jungkook hums ‘‘The amount of medication in your blood that’s available to produce an effect.’’ he answers and Taehyung nods, yawning, moving on to the next question.

‘‘What is azithromycin used for?’’

‘‘Viral In─?’’

Taehyung shakes his head no.

‘‘Oh! Bacterial infections!’’ Jungkook corrects himself and receives a nod of approval from his roommate ‘‘Kinda forgot for a second.’’

Taehyung ignores his excuse and continues quizzing him for a few more minutes, the tiredness still evident in his face, but his anxious friend had him slightly worried. 

‘‘Dude, you’re flunking this shit.’’ Taehyung mutters, counting down how many right answers his roommate had gotten ‘‘You only got six out of fifteen questions right.’’

Jungkook mumbles a curse and places his head over his hands. He couldn’t afford to fail this class, Pharmacology was a pain in the ass and he did not want to take it again. 

Taehyung hums as he stares at his nervous friend, his leg bouncing up and down with nervousness. The older friend understood his position, though he didn’t experience much trouble when he took this class two years ago, he had definitely felt pre-exam jitters before. 

‘‘Did you not study or?’’ Taehyung asks him in a gentle tone, not wanting to put him under the spot even more. 

Jungkook sighs and runs his hand through his short hair ‘‘A little, I uh─I was supposed to take a book out from the library to do more research, but a girl from my class wanted it so I gave it to her because━’’

Taehyung’s eyes open wide like saucers and he doesn’t let his younger friend finish his explanation. 

‘‘You gave up a book for a girl? Because she wanted it?’’ 

So long for not wanting to put him under the spot.

Jungkook already felt bad, but the amused tone on Taehyung’s voice made him feel worse. 

He knew it was a dumb decision.  He handed the book over to her a week ago, when he grabbed it and was ready to take it out to study until she popped out of nowhere and asked him if she could have it, pleading eyes and with hands placed together as if she was begging.

And Jungkook was a first year student, he was still slower than his seniors. He was kinda lucky having Taehyung, a third-year student, as his roommate. The more knowledgeable guy had shared with him most of the tips and tricks he needed to know to survive in Med School. 

Though Taehyung was now regretting forgetting to tell him that when it came down to being ‘‘nice’’ to other students, he had to think smartly and be a little selfish. Especially when a big exam was coming up and you weren’t particularly the best student in the class. 

‘‘You’re a dumbass and you’re failing this exam fair and square.’’ 

Jungkook frowns, not appreciating his roommate’s words ‘‘Thanks, I’ll try my best not to.’’ 

With this, he takes his backpack and snatches the papers from Taehyung’s hands. 

---

Which of the following is a short-term side effect of amphetamine?

Constipation

Hair Loss

Suicidal Thoughts

Depression

‘‘Isn’t it all of them?’’ Jungkooks whispers to himself as he reads the options over and over again, getting himself more confused rather than obtaining a clear answer. 

This was a starter question! A basic one, if you may. He knows he’s supposed to be able to answer this without hesitation, but he’s looking at the question as if it was a foreign topic. 

He sighs and decides he’ll come back to it later, maybe the answer will come to him later.

When choosing to supplement, what type of vitamin D do most healthcare professionals prescribe and why?

Cholecalciferol because it cannot cause adverse effects

Vitamin D because there is only one type of supplement available.

Cholecalciferol because it is the naturally occurring form in the body.

None of the answers are correct.

‘‘Fuck, I know this.’’ Jungkook mumbles, hand coming to scratch the side of his head. 

It’s A. 

No, it’s B. 

But what if it’s C? 

It can’t be D, that’s a trick answer and─

‘‘Psst,’’ he hears from behind him, but he’s too deep in thought wondering which option is the right one. ‘‘Pssst,’’ Jungkook’s eyes raise from his paper and into the sea of students taking the exam around him.

Jungkook stares at his Pharmacology professor, sitting on his chair as he tries to stay awake to keep an eye on his 40+ students. The class started at 7 AM and even he hated waking up early.

‘‘Pssssst,’’ he hears again, this time a little more intense and he’s trying his hardest not to turn his head and see where the noise is coming from, fearing he might get mistaken for cheating. 

He decided to ignore the sound and after that, whoever was making the noise, decided to stop as well. 

An hour and a half later, Jungkook was out of the horrible exam and ready to cry it out for a little in his room. He was hoping Taehyung had left for his exams by then. 

If Jungkook could grade his exam he’d give himself a C, nice try kid. 

‘‘Gosh, are you deaf or something?’’ he hears from a voice behind him, turning around to find the girl from the library. The one he had given the Pharma book to, sacrificing himself to please her. ‘‘I was trying to get your attention!’’ she complains and Jungkook’s just staring at her. 

‘‘What?’’ he speaks up, but it comes out as a mere whisper because he’s confused as hell. 

He’s still thinking about the exam and now he has this girl looking at him like he’s a weirdo. 

‘‘I was trying to help you, I saw some of your answers and they were wrong.’’ She explains and his eyebrows raise slightly ‘‘Hair loss is a short-term side effect of amphetamine? Really? That’s basic Pharmaco.’’ 

‘‘What?’’

‘‘And don’t even get me started on your answer for the vitamin D supplement, that was a piece of cake!’’ The girl continues to complain about his wrong answers and Jungkook is left speechless. ‘‘I was gonna give you my answers, which I know are right because I studied, but you never turned around.’’

Jungkook’s brows furrow. 

The reason why he was able to recognize her in the library last week was because she was an avid participant during lectures. Always had something to say, a question to ask, ready to share a random fact that not even the professor knew about. 

Jungkook’s not surprised she didn’t recognize him back then, not even now. He’s the total opposite of her. Never speaks in class, all the questions he wishes he could ask are kept inside his head and he doesn’t know anything about Pharmacology because everything is a big question mark to him.

‘‘You studied because of me.’’ he states and her eyes go wide like saucers.

‘‘Whu─?’’ It seems that the realization doesn’t hit her after her eyes narrow at him and a lightbulb lights up over her head ‘‘Oh! You’re the guy from the library! You gave me the book!’’ 

‘‘Yeah,’’ Jungkook replies bitterly ‘‘so if my answers are wrong, it’s because of you little Ms. Know-It-All.’’ 

He’s had enough of this and he still wants to cry, the added tension of this random girl mocking his failure has become another reason as to why he needs to get to his dorm room immediately. 

But she won’t let up so easily. 

‘‘Wait!’’ she says, grabbing Jungkook’s arm as a way to stop him, but the taller guy yanks her hand away and continues to walk as she trails behind him ‘‘I swear I didn’t know then you were my classmate! I even asked you if you needed the book, you said no.’’ 

That was true, but Jungkook’s a first year student who obviously thinks being nice will get him A’s on his exams. He doesn’t need books. Being nice will get him that degree. 

Jungkook shrugs it off, but she’s relentless and holds onto his backpack straps instead. 

‘‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so bitchy,’’ she apologizes as Jungkook continues to drag her through the building’s hall, hoping she’ll let go of his straps soon. ‘‘I just got frustrated because I really wanted to help you and—Ow!’’ 

Jungkook suddenly stopping makes her collide with his back abruptly, he gasps and quickly turns around to find her massaging her forehead that’s now sporting a red mark from the impact. 

‘‘It’s okay, I deserve it! Karma, right?’’ she chuckles and he sighs. 

‘‘If I forgive you will you leave me alone?’’ 

She frowns with a pout ‘‘No,’’ she states and he groans ‘‘because if you get a low grade, I’ll feel extremely guilty.’’ 

‘‘Then you’ll just have to live with it, I guess.’’ he shrugs. 

Jungkook promises he’s usually not like this. 

She ignores him instead ‘‘If you get a low grade, you can take the exam again! Professor Lee is really nice and understanding—”

“I know nothing about this class.” Jungkook interjects firmly, hoping that it serves as an answer for her.

She hums “I can help you study!” she offers and he looks at her with surprise “Not to brag, but I’m really good at Pharmaco.” she smiles, but it comes off as less than humble to him.

Jungkook would rather flunk this class than have her tutor him. Actually, he rather have Taehyung flick him on the head every time he gives a wrong answer until he gets them right.

She can tell he’s about to say no and so she pleads “Please! Please let me help! It’s the least I can do.” 

Her begging is very reminiscent of the one she did in the library last week. Jungkook had to give it to her, she could throw quite a convincing act.

And free tutoring is a hard offer to come by. One thing that reigned over med students was this superiority complex, the “I’m a better student than you” idea that would blind people into thinking they shouldn’t help their peers. 

So, yes, maybe she was annoying and a little bitchy, but just like Jungkook, she’s just being nice. 

He sighs with defeat “Alright, I’ll take your help.” 

She gasps with surprise and claps her hands with excitement, making the taller guy laugh through his nose. 

“I’ll give you my number! You can call or text me if you need any help.” she quickly adds and it’s not like he can object because she’s already writing her number down on a pink post-it note. 

“Y/N?” he reads the name once she hands the piece of paper over, she smiles and nods. 

“At your service! I’m good with Pharmaco, Biochem, and Pathology!” she informs and he nods slightly “Don’t ask me about microbiology, though, it’s my weak spot.” she shyly admits

His eyes light up at the mention of his favorite course “I love that class!” he comments and you tilt your head to the side, how could he possibly? “If you need help, you can ask me!” 

You both smile at each other, realizing this small deed turned out to be perfect for you both.

—

JUNGKOOK’S THIRD YEAR OF MED SCHOOL.

“Could you like—stop that?” You mumble, pushing Jungkook off of your shoulder as the sleepy guy shuffles in the tiny space of your bed “Jungkook, seriously! We have a test tomorrow, you wanna flunk it?”

He yawns “You’ll help me if I do.” 

“That was a one time thing only,” you narrow your eyes at him “this time it’s not gonna be on me!”

You try to make some sense into your friend, but he’s not bugging at all. Though you try to understand, you’ve been cramming neurology concepts for the past four hours with no breaks in between. 

Sometimes you forget Jungkook’s study method is very different from yours.

“Shhh,” Jungkook hushes you with his eyes closed and a frown in his brows “‘���M trynna sleep.” 

Jungkook falls asleep to the sound of your mumbling complaints about how he’d fail the test and how you’d have to help him like you always do. He smiles to himself because your bed is really comfy and the air freshener that you spray every other hour smells like fresh laundry. 

You stare at him, peacefully snoring into your pillow, mouth slightly open as he breathes in and out. You should be angry, he was the one who proposed studying together after all.

But all you do is cover him with your favorite fuzzy blanket and pat his shoulder before you go back to the lessons in your book.

The silence is comfortable. It helps you study better and it gives him peace as he dreams of whatever. It’s always like this for you two.

—

JUNGKOOK’S FIFTH YEAR OF MED SCHOOL.

The packed boxes and bags placed on Taehyung’s bed throw Jungkook off because it finally hits him that, after five years of rooming with the older friend, he’d have to find a new roommate.

He enters a frenzied state of questions in his head.

Is my new roommate going to be messy?

Is my new roommate going to listen to music so loud I won’t be able to sleep?

Will my new roommate hate video games and won’t let me play my FPSGs? 

Jungkook hadn’t realized how well of a dynamic he and Taehyung shared until today. Always thought that they kept rooming because they were friends and not because they actually were able to coexist with each other.

And now that Taehyung’s graduating, Jungkook is left to wonder what will happen next.

He was in that state of mind all day long. 

When he watched his soon-to-be ex roommate pack his belongings in boxes that were divided by categories. As he sat in the crowd of attendees for that semester’s graduates, Taehyung in between the handful of fresh new M.Ds. And now, as his fellow group of friends were singing their drunk asses off into the microphone of the karaoke room they had rented for the night.

Jungkook doesn’t know what song Taehyung and Namjoon are singing, but it’s definitely one that came out when he was just a baby. 

“You know you look really funny when you space out, right?” 

He blinks and you’re sitting next to him, giving him a raised brow as you wait for him to answer. 

Jungkook’s been told this multiple times, mostly by you. His doe eyes go wide, mouth shut into a line as he just stares into space and even he would like to know what it is that goes through his head during those moments, he always seems to forget when he comes back to reality.

“I’m so glad those two decided to become doctors instead of singers.” you joke, looking over at the two friends who were trying, but failing, at reaching a high note. 

He doesn’t laugh, though. 

“Are you okay?” you carefully ask, noticing his unusual behavior. Jungkook was…a special kid, for the most part. But you weren’t used to looking at him this quiet and so out of place. “Should I worry?” 

Jungkook shakes his head no and sighs, realizing his mood is changing yours as well and this is supposed to be a happy occasion, because Taehyung just graduated and he should be excited for his friend.

“Ahhh, I see,” you say with a nod, realization hitting you “you’re sad ‘cause Taehyungie is leaving, right?”.

“No.” Jungkook mumbles, hoping that it was convincing enough for you to buy, but he knows that you rarely ever let up.

You smile, finding it endearing how he’s embarrassed to admit that it does hurt. You’ve been there before when Namjoon graduated two years ago and you were a sobbing mess because it felt as if your older brother was leaving and never coming back. 

It sucked that Jungkook and you were the youngest ones in the friend group. You didn’t get to interact much with the older friends due to how ahead they were of you both, but they served as good mentors as you and he made your way along Med School.

“If it makes you feel better, you still have me.” you say with a smile and a squeeze to his shoulder, Jungkook stares back at you with an expression you can’t quite pinpoint “Only two more years.”

Saying it out loud feels unreal. He actually has stuck it out for that long. And as he stares at you giggling about your drunken singing friends, Jungkook realizes he hasn’t been alone during this journey.

You have to pretend his unwavering eyes are not making you feel under pressure.

—

JUNGKOOK’S SEVENTH AND FINAL YEAR IN MED SCHOOL.

“If you don’t tell her now, you probably never will!”

Jungkook gulps as he fixes his robe in front of the mirror. Taehyung is behind him, glaring at him with so much force that the soon-to-be graduate feels like he has to hide.

“Why would I tell her?” Jungkook mumbles “It’s just a silly crush, that’s it.” 

And it’s true, just a silly crush! One that he had been hiding for the last couple of years until a few weeks ago, when his friends took him out drinking, between drunken words he had confessed to his older friends the feelings he had been harbouring for you. 

“We know.” they all said in unison

And ever since then, they —especially Taehyung— had been pushing him into coming clean to you. With graduation happening today, it felt like it was Jungkook’s last chance to tell you before it was too late. 

He knows where you’re going to specialize after this and he knows he won’t see you for a couple of years and vice versa.

Jungkook will be able to go on about his life and get over whatever he’s feeling for you and that gives the opportunity for you to continue ahead with the idea that he’s your best friend and that he’s never felt anything for you. 

“Because maybe she feels the same way!” Taehyung argues and by the look on his face, it’s clear that he’s frustrated with his youngest friend “Like, y’know how Y/N is super smart, right?” He asks and Jungkook nods “Well, every time she’s around you she goes dumb! That’s the love effect.” 

Jungkook chuckles at his friend’s comment. The idea of you liking him back is actually sweet, makes his heart beat a little faster. But it’s just that, a mere thought. 

Because in reality, you’re always smart and never dumb enough to like him back.

He has a front row seat as you receive your diploma, the biggest smile on your face as you pose for the cameras and thank your adviser. Spotting Jungkook in the crowd as he claps excitedly for you, you send a wink his way, making his heart flutter in the process. 

And he feels like he should tell you. What’s the worst that could happen? 

Losing his dignity? He lost it years ago.

Rejection? He can handle it, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“Congrats, grad!” you say with excitement, after finding each other in the crowd of families and graduates “We did it!” 

“Yeah,” Jungkook chuckles, his heart is full of endearment as he watches you bounce with excitement in your heels “we made it, barely.” 

His heart is yelling at him to just do it now. He won’t have time later, what with your family wanting to take you out to celebrate and maybe his group of friends suggesting the usual post-grad Karaoke night. This is probably the last time Jungkook will be able to have you alone. 

In the corner of his eye he’s able to spot Taehyung, he’s far away but it’s clear that he’s dramatically mouthing TELL HER NOW! Seokjin, Namjoon and Yoongi are behind him, tugging at his suit’s sleeves so they’re able to drag him out of sight. 

“Hey, so…” Jungkook doesn’t mean for his voice to come out so shaky and you look at him with glowing eyes, excitement still bubbling in you “Uhm—“ 

Say it, you idiot. Just say it.

“Where are you going out to eat?” 

Fuck.

You chuckle as you tell him they’ll probably take you to some BBQ place and suggest if he would like to come. Jungkook quickly denies the offer and a few seconds later, you’re telling him that you should go and find your family.

Not before giving him a big hug and a kiss to his cheek, a friendly one “Don’t get too drunk tonight!” 

Oh, yeah... 

The worst thing that could happen if he tells you how he feels is that he’ll ruin your friendship. No biggie, right?

And you’ve been there for far too long, have put up with him through all his shenanigans, been too nice to him and he won’t fuck all of that up just because of a silly crush. 

Jungkook’s left to watch as you hurriedly spot your family, jumping with excitement into your father’s arms. The next second Taehyung is pulling at his ear, scolding him because he knows the graduate didn’t confess. 

He’s calling his older friends for help, but they let Taehyung have this, just this once. 

a/n: hello!! i decided to write this bc for the past drabbles the ‘‘med school vibes’’ have been mentioned n here’s a backstory to jk n reader’s friendship back then. i think this is a lil too long to be considered a drabble but wtvr. i did research those pharmaco questions n verified with my med student friends to fact check them lol hope all is well <3

[jalapeno-princess]

Chapter 4: Rest Of My Life

Mark Tuan X Reader

Part 4 of the “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” series

Genre: THE SAPPIEST AND CUTEST OF FLUFF (tiniest hints of angst) (horny ass Mark)

Word Count: 14K (Honestly it felt so much longer)

Summary: In every relationship, there are ups and downs. However, after every rainstorm, there is a rainbow. (I fucking hated how cheesy that was I just don’t want to give anything away LOL)

A/N: Finally I am done with this chapter UGH this one took longer to write but yet I feel like it’s the most rushed and repetitive one yet I’m actually not at all happy with how this turned out and there was a lot of fillers in some parts and literally nothing in other parts I just wanted to finish it I’m sorry if it didn’t turn out the way you all would have hoped. By the way, all of your comments on chapter three about who is behind the door made me laugh your minds are so creative I hope you all are happy with who is actually behind the door. I’m both happy and sad that this story is coming to an end (happy because there are so many other stories I can’t wait to write but sad af because I genuinely love this story it’s my first series and I just love how I wrote about Mark in here and the relationship between him and the reader is all I could ever dream about having in a relationship UGH) I don’t know when I’ll get around to writing the fifth chapter but I’m sure it’ll be within the next couple of weeks. With that being said, happy reading!

“Jackson? What are you doing here?” 

The last time you saw the older boy was the summer before both him and Mark went off to college. It felt like ages ago—but you were shocked after coming to the realization that it has only been a year. A lot has happened since their graduation; the last thing you heard from Mark was that Jackson was planning on studying abroad in China. 

Out of Mark’s entire group of friends, you found yourself gravitating towards him the most. Although, he gave you no choice to do otherwise. Jackson Wang was a golden retriever in human form. Anyone and everyone who entered his path, whether it was accidentally or on purpose would become extremely close with him—and it was usually because of his persistence to make and maintain as many friendships as possible. You were shocked to say the least as your eyes landed on his broadened figure. 

Puberty just so happened to favor Mark and his friends—they were all so good looking and very much in amazing shape. Jackson was currently shirtless and if it were anyone else in your shoes, their cheeks probably would’ve turned pink at the sight of his bare chest. You however, were pretty much used to being comfortable around him, Yugyeom, BamBam and Jinyoung. 

When it came to their group of friends, you were pretty much desensitized with any of their antics; not wearing clothing was one of them. It came to the point where Mark never allowed you around them if there was a chance they would remove any item of their clothing—but it was not as much because of jealousy; it was more so because the guys would purposely try to get on Mark’s nerves as much as possible. 

Most of your best times in high school were because of the wild and rowdy group of guys and you didn’t realize just how much you’ve missed all of them until they all went their separate ways. Honestly, it’s been a while since you’ve heard from any of the guys—but college took up more time than high school did and the four of them, along with your ex-boyfriend all decided to go to school out of state. 

They were all so excited when it was time to start filling out applications to all the different universities around the world; Yugyeom and BamBam shocked you the most when you found out that they actually got accepted to what you considered were elite colleges. If those two could get in to college, anybody could. As much as you wanted to laugh at the many memories of how both boys would never fail to get in trouble for either being late to class, or for getting caught with stealing a bunch of condoms from behind your teacher’s desk, it only occurred to you that you just referred to Mark as your ex-boyfriend. 

Not once was there ever a time in the duration of your relationship where you would have ever put Mark in the same sentence as the term “ex”. Even when the two of you had your disagreements or unnecessary arguments, there was nothing that would have caused you think like that. Was he really your ex-boyfriend? The two of you were on a break; or so you believed. You explained the difference between a break up and just taking a break. 

You didn’t want to break up with Mark; he was your person—your soulmate, your best friend. He was in your life for more than half of it, you weren’t going to give up on him that easily. Both you and your relationship needed time to heal in order for you to be able to continue loving Mark in the ways that you used to. There was not a doubt in your mind that you still loved Mark. 

No matter what were to happen down the road, your heart would always belong to him. He was still the only man you wanted to settle down, start a family and spend the rest of your life together with. But you couldn’t help to think negative thoughts like Mark finding solace in someone else. What if this break took a toll on his mental health and he felt the need to confide in another girl? What if he felt that the only way he could stop crying over you was for him to move on and start seeing someone else? 

Deep down, you knew Mark would never do anything that would purposely make you sad or go against you in any way. He was the type to talk things out before making any rash decisions. However, it was only human of you to feel as if he was so frustrated with you to the point where he wanted to do something to hurt you just as much as he claimed you were doing to him. Did he consider you his ex-girlfriend? 

Was there someone who caught his eye in the last month who made him realize there were many other girls out there? That, instead of moping around and waiting for you to be ready to come back to him, someone else could help fill the void? You didn’t know how to describe the pain you were now feeling at the thought of Mark no longer being in love with you; you’ve been worrying and overthinking about this weeks before initiating the break, and he was never around to make you feel or think otherwise. 

Why did your relationship have to become so complicated? Why couldn’t things just have stayed the way they were before Mark left? Why did his efforts lessen knowing that it was going to take twice the amount of time and patience from both of you to continue and maintain a healthy relationship? When did he come to the realization that you were no longer a priority he considered all that important?

“I should be asking you the same thing—although, it’s nice seeing you again. You look seemingly beautiful as always. Albeit a bit messy with more dark circles than the last time we saw each other. It’s a given, but trust me—he looks even more terrible.” 

You looked up at him in curiosity of his confession, but you were well aware that Mark probably told him everything. Mark and Jackson were practically brothers. The only person Mark would confide in and admit all his deepest, darkest secrets to other than you was the charming boy standing in front of you. He looked as though he wanted to pull you in for a hug, but he was also pretty hesitant not knowing what you were feeling or thinking. Jackson gave you a knowing look before letting a small smirk rise upon his face. 

“Your lover boy is the definition of a lightweight. Mark can’t drink for shit. It only took two beers for him to spill everything to me after he came back from his trip—don’t look at me like that. Yes, we drink. It’s all apart of the college experience y/n. Anyways, I know it’s not my place to meddle in your relationship, but I have never seen Mark so depressed in my many years of knowing him for. It’s obvious this “break” you asked him for is slowly killing him. The love he has for you is something people can only dream about ever experiencing in their lifetime. I caught him going through a photo album that he made of pictures and videos of you and he wouldn’t stop crying until I forcefully took away his phone. Look, I’m not trying to guilt trip you or anything and I’m not making up any excuses for him. I’m sure being away from each other is already hard as it is—even worse since you barely get to hear from him but he does have his reasons for being so absent these days. He said he told you he got a job in order to surprise you that week but you didn’t allow him to finish explaining himself.” 

Jackson allowed you inside of the dorm room and you were actually pretty surprised at how clean it was. Sure, Mark was always very tidy and liked to keep his space neat; but witnessing Jackson’s tendencies of picking food from up off the ground and eating it right after, you just assumed he wasn’t the type to care about cleanliness and hygiene. 

“Wow—nice place. Mark showed me a couple of times over Skype but it’s different actually being here.” He gave you his signature cheeky smile before motioning for you to sit down on the couch. 

“Thanks. It was actually his idea to be roommates. I guess he wasn’t all too fond of his previous one and when I decided to transfer over to New York, he offered to let me move in with him. Now, back to what I was saying. For months, Mark kept sulking over how much he missed you and how he was going to do whatever he could to see you again sooner rather than later; so he got a job at this coffee shop right across of campus. Everyone knows Mark hates coffee—but it was the only place that was 24 hours and would work alongside his schedule. Poor guy was barely getting any sleep for the few months leading up to his trip but it didn’t seem to bother him. He was just so stoked to reunite with his “favorite person in the entire world” that he didn’t care how exhausted he was from juggling school, work and his athletics. Our baseball coach even pulled him aside and told him that he needed to get better with managing his priorities or he would kick him off the team. I swear, the night he returned from California, my heart broke for him. He looked so wrecked y/n—but he didn’t say a word. We all know how much of a crybaby he can be, but it was a different kind of sadness. His eyes were so bloodshot and puffy yet they held no emotion in them. He also had no appetite at all and that’s obviously not like him. Boy can eat. I’m not saying you should completely forget how he’s been treating you, but please forgive him. I know he has your best interest at heart. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, anyone with eyes can see just how much you mean to him. Ah—I didn’t mean to make you cry; honestly you and Mark are perfect for each other. I’ll be right back.” 

You didn’t even feel tears fall down your cheeks, but it was inevitable. Every single thing that he said tugged on your heartstrings. 

Did you get lonely while I was away—working my fucking ass off at a job I hate in order to save enough money so I could come and see you? 

For the entire month, Mark’s anger-filled speech from that night replayed over and over in your mind and you felt like such a terrible person now that you understood why he’s been so distant. He tried to tell you, but you just wouldn’t listen. You were so frustrated—so heartbroken in that moment and you wanted him to know the damage that was done to your relationship because he wasn’t as involved in your life as he used to. 

Hearing that he was barely getting any sleep nor having any legitimate free time to himself just so that he could save up money to visit you made your stomach sink. You couldn’t even imagine how hard it must’ve been for him. He flew all the way to California to surprise you, only to be met with the idea of a break. It was probably very heartbreaking for him. He worked all those hours—probably put up with a lot of assholes and having to be on his feet for long periods of the day only to find out that his girlfriend needed time to heal from the pain he’s been causing her. 

You never felt so angry with yourself—but at the same time, you wouldn’t have known. He never said anything. If things were going to end the way you were hoping they would today, then you would make sure the two of you worked on your communication. Jackson returned back with a box of tissues and a bottle of water to which you thanked him politely and wiped away a few stray tears. As much as you were enjoying his presence, you were there for a reason and Jackson could tell with the way you were looking around the room as if you were expecting someone—Mark—to come out from one of the rooms. 

“He’s at work. Don’t worry, he cut back his hours so that he could put more effort in his studies, but he should be done here pretty soon. I better go—I’m going to need some time to find someone who will let me crash on their couch for tonight—or however long you plan on staying here.”

“Why would you need somewhere else to sleep—“ he gave you an incredulous look while playfully raising his brows. 

“Oh trust me, we all know what is going to happen between you and Mark once you both kiss and make up. The next thing I need is not being able to get any sleep because of how loud I know it’s going to be—ow! What? Naughty, kinky make up sex is the best! I mean, I’ll stay if I get to join in on the night’s festivities; but we all know how extremely territorial and overprotective Mark is when it comes to you so I’ll let you both have your fun. But don’t have too much fun—we already got noise complaints two months ago when Yugyeom and BamBam came down for spring break and we all got drunk while playing Mario kart. I’ll take my leave, I actually have some assignments I need to work on. Feel free to make yourself at home—oh, and please—no sex on the couch. This is where I take most of my naps, so keep all the raunchiness in the bedroom. I’ll see you later y/n. There’s some pizza in the oven, my room is down the hall on the left, Mark’s is on the right and we actually both have our own bathrooms in our rooms. You’re better off using his, I wasn’t expecting any guests so—yeah. Good luck!” 

He pulled you in to a quick hug before grabbing his keys and making his way out the door. Although you couldn’t wait to finally see Mark again, you would have rather Jackson had stayed with you until he did arrive home. You swore your heart was about ready to jump out of your chest while waiting for him. There were so many different scenarios—more negative ones than positive running through your mind about how things were going to play out. If what Jackson said about Mark was true, you were confident that he would take you back with open arms. 

However, you were afraid that he was no longer as adamant on fixing things. You were afraid that with your situation with Mark—no matter how many memories the two of you had together, no matter how many years you’ve spent together, no matter how much history the two of you shared—if his heart was no longer in it, there was nothing you could do. Instead of mending your relationship, what if this break only made Mark realize that he didn’t want to put up with your brash and cold exterior? 

People change; sometimes they grow apart—what if it was too late to come back together again? Although Jackson did tell you to relax and unwind, you didn’t feel like you had the right to. You’ve never been here before and you were never the type of person to just roam around someone else’s personal area, even if the person was someone you’ve spent over a decade of your life with. A part of you couldn’t help but grow curious as to what Mark’s bedroom looked like. 

Did he style it the way he did at his last dorm? Did it look like his room back in California that you’d spent many hours playing video games and doing your homework in? It felt extremely awkward just sitting there waiting for him to walk through the door. You should’ve asked Jackson exactly what time Mark planned on arriving home so you could have better prepared yourself for when he were to finally walk through the doors. Instead of waiting on the couch in agony and doing nothing, you got up and began the search for Mark’s room. You intended on going in to his bathroom and making sure it wasn’t obvious that you had previously cried. 

When you first walked in to his room, you immediately took in how clean it was. His walls were white, but you assumed they were already like that before he even moved in. His bed sheets were navy blue and so were his curtains. There was a tv hung up on the wall with a PlayStation and a couple of games set up right under. You decided to take a quick peek around before finally going in to his bathroom to freshen up. As you continued to browse throughout his room, you saw something in the corner of your eye.

Right above his bed frame was a picture board. You absentmindedly found yourself crawling on to his bed to get a better look at all the photos; there were a couple with his family, some with his teammates, a few with his friends back in high school—but most of the photos were with, or of you. There was even a photo of the two of you sitting on his nightstand. This photo however, had a note attached to it. It was always and will forever be you. This time, you allowed the tears to fall freely—you couldn’t give less of a shit about what you looked like anymore. 

Always. 

You were and would forever be his always. You didn’t care that you had to stay up late just to hear from him—you didn’t care that you only ever saw him physically during the summertime or during the holidays. You didn’t care that all the friends you had made in the last year would brag about the many dates their boyfriends have been taking them on. None of that mattered. Mark loved you—even after all the heartbreak he suffered in the last month because of you, it just proved that he was willing to do anything and everything for you. 

“Can I help you find something?” 

The sudden interruption caused you to let out a muffled scream. When you turned around to look at him, you had to force yourself not to practically jump at him now that you were fully aware of the many sacrifices he had made just to make you happy. However, you didn’t want to startle him if you were to throw your arms around him. For the first time—Jackson was right. Well, sort of. Mark looked devastatingly handsome; but it was something you were used to. God obviously had his favorites and Mark Tuan was one of them. He did however, look as though he’s been crying for days. He also looked tired beyond belief. You heart was begging for you to go up to him and pull him in to your embrace while leaving as many kisses all along his jaw and neck—but your affection and the need to touch him was just going to have to wait. 

“Hey. Sorry, I—I came in here to use the bathroom and I—I didn’t mean to intrude or anything—I can go back outside—“

“No, no. You’re totally fine. I um—I’m sorry if I scared you. How—how have you been? You look great by the way. You haven’t been waiting long have you?” 

The laugh of disbelief was at the back of your throat. Standing in front of you was the boy you’ve been in love with for more years than you could count on both of your hands yet—it felt as though you were talking to a stranger. You could tell by his body language and the way he was scratching the back of his neck that he was flustered. 

Whenever Mark would get shy around you, it was always a sight to behold. His cheeks would turn the brightest of pinks, he would gnaw on his bottom lip and rock himself back and forth on the heels of his feet. Normally, he would act this way after a passionate night of love making or simply when you would introduce him as the love of your life to one of your family members. In other situations, you would have found his timid exterior to have been extremely adorable, but as of right now, it was suffocating you. You knew you were the reason why he was acting so nervous; so cautious because you were sure he was afraid of saying the wrong thing and scaring you away. 

“Jackson let me in about half an hour ago, but it’s okay. He was quite the host until he left to go “study”. I’m surprised at how tidy you’ve been able to maintain this place; or should I say—I’m surprised Jackson has been doing his share and cleaning up. I really like it.” 

He thanked you softly before bringing his attention to the floor. Mark was always very confident whenever he spoke; so seeing him uncertain and unsure about how to approach you wasn’t a sight you were quite used to. Nor was it one you ever wanted to get used to. The atmosphere was filled with uncomfortable tension that you wanted so badly to disappear. Whether it was because you missed him more than you wanted to admit out loud, or because it was evident that he wanted to make his way toward you but didn’t know if he was allowed to; you found yourself taking the initiative in getting up from his bed and wasted no time cupping both of his cheeks with your hands and kissing him as if your life depended on it. 

You wanted him to know just how sorry you were for everything he had to go through in the last month because of how stubborn you’ve been. As soon as he felt your lips smash against his own, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and pulled you as close to his body that was physically possible. His kisses were rough as his hands roamed your body. God, how did you go so long without the beautiful boy in front of you? Everything in your life felt right again. Being in Mark’s arms while his tongue mapped his trace along your neck was an otherworldly sensation. You were thousands of miles away from California, but you’ve never felt more at home than you did right now. Mark was your home—your favorite place to escape; a breath of fresh air. You were right where you needed to be. 

“Mmm—Mark—I’m so sorry baby. Jackson told me everything. I should have listened to you—I should’ve allowed you to explain yourself. If I knew the actual reason why you weren’t communicating with me as often, I wouldn’t have been so hard on you. I would’ve been more understanding—“

“Nope—I won’t be having any of that. No apologies baby. Yes, I was exhausted beyond belief, but I should have tried harder for us—for you. I was working hard in order to finally be with you again, but I completely pushed back the purpose of why I was doing all of this; why I was practically going days with only five hours of sleep in total. Why I was typing out essays while on my breaks at work. Why I was taking down espresso shots like they were vodka shots—both of which are completely nasty by the way. You are my purpose baby. Everything I do is with your happiness in mind. I know how much my absence has been affecting you because waking up every morning without you next to me was like a fucking chore. It was just as bad for me as it was for you. God, if there’s anything I hate more than college-level calculus, it’s having to live without you—the reason for my existence. Give me your hand.” You did as you were told; placing your hand in his all the while blushing when he brought it up to his chest. 

“Feel that? It’s racing—I haven’t felt my heartbeat this fast since the night you told me you wanted to take a break. That had to be the worst night of my entire life baby. I couldn’t stop beating myself up about your disheartened facial expression when you told me I needed to get my act together. I just—I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I cried every single fucking day because I couldn’t stop thinking this was the end between us. I never ever want to go one day without you. I know—I’ve been a terrible boyfriend to you and I hope you know you didn’t deserve it at all y/n. There were days I wanted to quit my job because I hated it so much and because I’m so exhausted, but then I’d take a look at my phone screen with the picture I took of you that one morning when we had a food fight in the kitchen and you got peanut butter in your hair and all over your face and I just—it made me remember what I was doing it all for. It felt like forever that we got to do something fun like that—it’s been forever since I truly felt any ounce of happiness. I feel like I’m living, but not at all existing whenever I’m away from you. I know you told me not to regret my decision in choosing to go away for college, but I do. I regret choosing to ever be where you aren’t. Fuck, you don’t understand just how hard it was for me having to go back home that night thinking that you no longer wanted anything to do with me; and even if you said he was just a friend—that guy, whatever his stupid name is—“

“His name is Jaebeom—

“Yeah yeah—whatever. That obviously doesn’t matter. It’s my last name that you’re taking one day so I don’t care what his name or anybody else’s name is. I know you would never cheat on me or do anything to jeopardize our relationship, but seeing the two of you together really struck a nerve with me. I don’t know what he is to you, but I’m sure he must be someone meaningful to you for you to go to prom with him. I couldn’t stop thinking about how lucky he is to be around you all the time, how he gets to hear that vibrant and contagious laughter of yours, how he gets to see your radiant and breathtaking smile and how that should have been me being all cute and matching with you. How I should have been there, flaunting you off to everyone. God, you looked so beautiful that night y/n—but you looked so fucking sad when you looked at me. When I came back to New York, I didn’t want to do anything. At all. I called in sick from work, I took a break from baseball and I even missed a couple of classes but I couldn’t give less of a shit. I felt so empty—physically and mentally I felt numb. I wanted to call you; trust me when I say I found my fingers hovering over your contact many times. I continuously checked up on your social media to see how you were doing—if you were okay, if you were eating all your meals and getting some rest. If—if you were suffering without me the way I was with you. I’m nothing without you. Absolutely nothing.” 

He brought his thumb up to your cheek and gently brushed away a tear you didn’t even notice fall from your eyelids. You were well aware that Mark loved you more than you could even accept that you deserved. There were a couple of times you question his love for you; not hearing from him made you feel as though you weren’t as important to him and just that thought alone made you feel as if his love for you faltered. Hearing him confess to you what this past month has been like for him just confirmed that you meant a lot more to him than you felt you did. This break only made you realize that you could no longer be without him—you no longer wanted to put him through any more stress or sadness. 

“Damnit Mark—how do you—fuck—you have such a way with words. You’ve always have. I love you so, so much. More than I ever get around to telling you. I’m so sorry—don’t give me that look babe let me apologize. I should have tried harder to see how you were doing. I know being a student athlete is already so frustrating and I just felt like you didn’t need something else to worry about. I know you’re probably going to disagree and get mad at me for feeling this way, but I just felt like such a burden to you. You already have so many responsibilities, your relationship should be the least of your worries. As much as I love surprises, please Mark—I want you to be honest with me next time. We need to work on our communication. Don’t get me wrong, I am honestly so grateful that you got a job in order to make money to come and visit me and I apologize if you feel like it was a waste—if my reaction that night wasn’t the one you were expecting, but I just didn’t know how to react. I was genuinely happy to see you—or at least deep down I knew I was. My facial expression was the complete opposite—but it’s because I felt as though you were just so far away. You were right in front of me, yet I couldn’t recognize you. My mind couldn’t process that you were real—that you were actually there and not a figment of my silly imagination. Deciding to take a break took weeks to come to that decision. I couldn’t stop thinking that I was no longer a priority to you, so I just stopped trying entirely.” 

You found yourself wrapping your arms around his waist and released a soft sigh before smashing your cheek up against his chest. This was the first time in a long time that you actually felt genuinely content. Mark’s arms always made you feel so safe; so secure and so at ease. He didn’t hesitate to place his chin on the top of your head while tightening his already unyielding hold around your hips. 

“I missed you more than I can explain in words. I meant what I said Mark—I’ve loved you since I was eight years old. I’ve loved you before I even knew what love was and I’m going to love you, for as long as time permits me to. Forever, hopefully. You’re my best friend Mark. I don’t care what happens to me or where I end up in the future. As long as you’re right by my side, I’ll be living a life that I’ve always wanted—that people can only dream of experiencing. We’re going to be just fine my love.” He brought his hand down to your jaw and lifted up your chin so that you were making direct eye contact with him. “You got that right baby. How long do I have you for?”

“A little over a week.” He gave you a knowing look; his eyes were filled with mischief. You were well aware most of your time in New York was going to be spent showing him just how much you loved him and the idea sent warmth to both your chest and in between your thighs. 

“Stay right here, I’m going to have to text Jackson about finding a place to stay—“

“He’s already on it. He wants to give us our time to enjoy one another, just the two of us. In his words, he doesn’t want to miss out on his sleep because apparently you and I are going to be “too loud”. I have no idea what he’s talking about though. I have no intention on being noisy while I’m here—“ 

Mark was quick to lift you up and hoisted you on top of his left thigh; his movements were quick. Soon you were being thrown on top of his bed as he began leaving sloppy and all but gentle kisses all around your bare skin. He lowered himself on top of you, pressing his pelvis right on top of yours in attempts to let you know what he had planned for the both of you in just a few moments. 

“I went four months without making love to my beautiful baby. You know how many times I’ve found myself jacking off to photos of you? I miss when we used to have cyber sex—fuck why did we ever stop? I can still picturing you fingering yourself, pretending it was me. You looked so fucking sexy and although it wasn’t the same as when you suck me off or ride my cock like the professional cowgirl you are, I came in less than five minutes just hearing your breathless moans as you tried to get yourself off. Trust me when I say this, you won’t be getting any sightseeing completed at all while you’re here. I’m going to make sure your legs are practically jello once I show you just how much I’ve missed this perfect body of yours. I don’t know if Jackson told you, but we’re actually on probation for being loud because of BamBam and Yugyeom. I’m confident I’m going to get kicked out here with how loud I’m going to make you sing for me. I can’t wait to rail the shit out of you baby. This pussy is mine. You are mine. Now, sit back y/n and enjoy the ride.” 

Mark wasn’t lying when he said he had every intention on making sure you were immobile. The two of you relished in your love for hours; once you both came down from your highs after one round, the hunger and desire for one another was too strong to quit. You don’t think you’d be able to look in his fridge without remembering how he had you pressed right up against the cool metal, ramming himself inside of you from behind. Four hours later, you both decided to take a break. You had almost two weeks together; you didn’t want to practically be bedridden before you actually got the chance to really spend time exploring New York City together. 

“You never cease to amaze me you know that? Fuck, I could love on your body for the entire day if you’d let me. I guess not having me inside of you for so long made you even more tight. I think your boobies got bigger too—ow! Why do you always get so abusive every single time I appreciate these beautiful breasts of yours? If you’re going to be like this about your mounds, you should hear how obsessed I am with your vagina—“

“Say that word one more time and you won’t get anywhere near it for the rest of my stay.” 

He gave you the most adorable pout before pulling you on top of him. Even if the two of you had just finished having passionate and steamy sex, you could feel your cheeks warm up being pressed up against his bare and sweaty body. He left a wet kiss on the juncture of your neck and looked at you with so much love and adoration in his eyes. 

“I don’t know babe, i could’ve sworn you were begging me to bury my cock deeper inside of you and to eat you out like I mean it less than an hour ago. You’re just as much a nymphomaniac as I am. I honestly can just stay in bed with you for the rest of the evening and just do nothing if that’s alright with you. We could get cleaned up and order some take out. Or if you have even just a tiny bit of energy, we can go out for an hour or so and just enjoy each other’s company.” 

As much as you wanted to go exploring, it was just going to have to wait till tomorrow. You hid your face in the crook of his neck; trying to absorb as much of his warmth as possible before humming softly against his jaw. 

“Let’s stay in. I just want to enjoy this intimate moment with you as much as I can.” He smiled at you lovingly while he brought his fingers in to your hair. 

“I was hoping you’d say that. I want to take advantage of every moment you are naked—as much as I missed you, I don’t miss the hitting. Did you get stronger since the last time I saw you? You’re like bionic now.” 

You playfully rolled your eyes at his sarcasm and propped yourself on your elbows so that you could get a better look at him. Every time you would look at Mark, it amazed you just how much he changed physically since you first met him yet his childlike personality never faltered. If anything, he became more and more like a child as he got older.

“Mark.”

“Hm?”

“I’m going to marry you one day.” 

Knowing that he was the type to joke around a lot, you were expecting a “matter of a fact” kind of response. However, you weren’t expecting for him to pull you down and reconnect your lips together. Right as you could feel the fire building up in your bones with his feather like yet protective touch, he leaned away and looked up with you with a glint in his eye. 

“Hey—I’m the one supposed to be telling you that!” 

You yelped when he all but gently squeezed your butt. The thought of marrying the beautiful boy underneath you has been on your mind since the day he told you he had his mom take out the raisins from her oatmeal cookies because you weren’t a fan of them. Sometimes, your relationship felt too good to be true. Even if you hit a bump in the road, it only made you realize that no matter what were to happen between the two of you, your love for Mark and his love for you would never falter. He was everything in a significant other most girls could only dream about having in theirs. Mark Tuan was an ethereal being; his name was forever engraved on to your heart. 

“I don’t know when exactly—maybe when we’re just a little bit older, but I can’t wait to marry you y/n. You’ve had my heart for over a decade now—it’s yours for the next ten decades.”

“That’s a hundred years Mark. I don’t think either of us are going to live that long—“

“You always seem ruin such romantic moments. I’m telling you that I plan on loving you for the rest of my life. I said what I said my silly girl. You’re stuck with me forever.” 

You beamed up at his words and the two of you continued to lie there in silence; just basking in each other’s presence. To your dismay, Mark flipped your bodies so now he was on top of you but before you could say anything about this new position, you quickly picked up on his now furrowed brows and the way he looked as if he was deep in thought. 

“Hey, everything okay?” 

He gave you a sad smile and nodded hesitantly but you could tell something was obviously bothering him. Just a few moments ago, he was nipping at your jaw while grazing all too close to your core—and now he looked as if he was on the verge of breaking down. What exactly just so happened to pop in to his mind that was causing him so much distress. 

“Mark—we said we would work on our communication. I know something is bothering you. Talk to me baby.”

“It’s nothing really—well—God, I feel so stupid for having to ask you this. That Jaebeom kid, he uh—I wouldn’t be surprised if he did I mean look at you—but, he didn’t happen to have a crush on you did he?” 

Talking about Jaebeom was bound to happen sooner or later. Images of his angry expression when he saw the younger boy walk outside in attempts to look for you came rushing back like the night of prom was just yesterday. There was no doubt your boyfriend was a jealous person. You never understood where his jealousy came from; you never gave him a reason to be jealous nor did you think that you attracted anyone other than him until Jaebeom confessed his feelings for you. 

He would get extremely territorial whenever you would hang out with him and his friends. BamBam and Jackson were notorious for being a little too touchy for Mark’s liking when it came to you. Sometimes they would reach for your hand or interlock your arms together in order to get under his skin, but Mark never let them get away with it. You could still remember the way your heart soared when he told you that he was only jealous of other guys because he had a fear that one day, someone might walk in to your life and make you realize that there are more people in this world other than Mark that could get you feeling the way he thought only he was capable of. Your boyfriend was well aware that he was the one that you loved more than anyone else in your life—but it was only natural for his curiosity to get the best of him. 

“He did—he confessed to me right after he asked me to prom. I was quick to tell him I was in a relationship and he was very understanding about it.” 

Mark took in a deep breath and waited a couple of seconds before asking you the question that he’s been dying to know the answer to for the last month. 

“You uh—did you ever have feelings for him at one point? I won’t be mad; I mean, I’ve been absent. I’m sure spending time with someone and getting their attention could cause some feelings to develop. This question has been on my mind since that night. It’s not that I’m questioning your feelings for me—I know in my heart that you love me but I couldn’t find it in myself to stop thinking negatively.” 

A part of you wanted to lie in order to spare his feelings. He may have said he wouldn’t be mad if you were to tell him that yes—you had feelings for Jaebeom at one point or at least felt like you did; but this was Mark you were talking about. He would be devastated to hear that your heart wavered even just for a split second and you didn’t want to do that to him. The idea of hurting him sent a painful sensation to your chest. Mark was nothing less than perfect to you in all your years of knowing him for. 

These last few months might not have been ideal and honestly you could do without them, but at the same time—the turmoil was a blessing in disguise. Maybe the two of you needed this distance; this break in order to come to the acceptance that neither of you were going anywhere. However, the realist in you was well aware that there was no point in lying. 

For all you knew, Mark probably felt it in either his heart or his mind that you could have at least felt something towards Jaebeom. It wasn’t impossible; it was common for people in relationships to harbor feelings for someone else. Especially someone they’re close to and spend most of their time with. He hated the thought that you began liking Jaebeom more and more every day considering that your communication levels weren’t all that good. What person in their right mind would genuinely be okay with knowing that their significant other had someone else on their mind—someone that they saw almost every single day? Mark wasn’t too sure just how close the two of you were and he wasn’t too sure if he wanted to know. 

“At one point, yes. I did. But let me start off by saying this; just because I felt like I had some kind of feelings for him at one point doesn’t mean I loved you any less. Like you said, it could have been because he was giving me the attention I wasn’t receiving from you. He was taking care of me; he held me on the days that I cried because of school and our failing relationship. He’d buy me pastries if he saw that I wasn’t eating and he’d buy me coffee now and then—but I don’t have any romantic feelings for him. I guess I just really missed you; I missed you like fucking crazy Mark and for the time being, Jaebeom was helping me take my mind off of your absence. I will admit, I felt terrible when I told him I didn’t reciprocate his feelings only because he’s such an amazing friend, but no matter how kind he is, how much he cares for me or how attractive he is—“

“He wasn’t all that good looking honestly he was a solid three on a scale from one to ten you’re just saying that to make me jealous—“ You brought your hand up to his mouth in order to silence him but he licked a stripe along your skin. 

“Will you stop interrupting me? I’m trying to tell you that there’s nobody else for me but you asshole. I’m too blinded by the love I have for you to even look or think about anybody else. Jaebeom is an amazing friend, but that is all he’s ever going to be to me. You consumed every single part of me; like the ocean. I feel like I’m drowning in your love, but I never want to be saved. I just want to keep losing myself in you and the love you have for me. I’m honestly so glad Jackson is a very considerate friend—I got horny just thinking about how much I love you.” 

His laughter immediately filled up the room; a sound you were going to take advantage of for the next week and a half. It wasn’t the same hearing it through a screen—it was much more vibrant and full of excitement and it made your tummy swarm with butterflies. 

“You’re insatiable, what am I going to do with you?”

“Anything you want to.”

When the two of you were finally done making up for lost time up against almost every surface in his dorm, you finally gave in and tapped out. You could feel your eyes closing and sleep was right around the corner ready to take over you completely. 

“Should I start ordering us some food?” You slowly shook your head and made yourself comfortable pressed up against his chest. He began leaving soft kisses in your hair while dragging his fingers along the expanse of your back. 

“I’m so tired. I think the jet lag is catching up to me.”

“No, I think it’s the six hours of nonstop sex we just accomplished. But that’s fine—maybe I’ll wake up earlier and prepare you some breakfast in bed. Or, I can have you for breakfast in bed—almost ten years of this abuse you would think I would know when to prepare myself. Mmm—I love you y/n, I’m so fucking happy you’re here. Thank you for coming back to me.” 

In the two weeks that you were in New York for, Mark took you to almost every single place you’ve been wanting to go to. You didn’t think you were capable of walking so many miles; especially since you were sore practically every single day. Mark wasn’t lying when he said he planned on having you each day you were there for. On the days he had work or practice, you’d stay back at his apartment and just watch a couple of movies or play some video games on his Xbox. Sometimes you would go around with Jackson; sightseeing and shopping for some gifts to bring back home. 

When Mark finished his duties or on the days he was off, he would take you exploring throughout the city, showing you everything New York had to offer. He made sure to keep you energized by purchasing you coffee right before the two of you were to return back to his apartment. He didn’t know when the next time he was going to see you would be, so he wanted to make every moment with you count—even if that meant having to stay up till the wee hours of the morning to have him blow your back out. 

Unfortunately, just like the last time you were in New York, your visit was quick to end just as immediate as it was to arrive. 24 hours seemed to fly by in a matter of minutes any time it was spent with Mark yet they seemed to drag on whenever the two of you were apart. The tears wouldn’t stop falling from your face when he brought you to the airport. He held you close to his body and placed his head against yours as he tried his best to keep your cries soft—not wanting to bother the cab driver. 

He was also secretly tearing up himself; he had one of the best weeks of his life with you and now he had to let you go again. If he had the choice, he’d be heading back to California with you permanently. It was selfish of him, but he even contemplated on hiding your luggage or even stealing your plane ticket so that you’d have no choice but to stay with him. Once the driver pulled up to the airport, he helped you take your luggage from out of the trunk while you and Mark said your goodbyes to each other. 

“Hey—baby, we’re going to be just fine. I mean it this time. I’m gonna do better for you. I don’t care how tired I am—hell, you’re probably going to get tired of my constant phone calls and text messages but I promise you that I’m going to do my best to make sure to put in just as much effort in to this relationship as you do. I know how it feels to lose you and fuck, I never want to feel something so painful like that ever again. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to go without having you with me—so expect me to come make a trip to visit you here soon. I love you y/n—God, I can’t even describe to you just how much I love you. Love isn’t even a good enough word to describe what I feel for you—what you mean to me. Fuck, I’m going to miss you so much. Let me know as soon you land and when you get home please? Take good care of yourself and I expect at least three nudes a day—fine two—y/n I’m trying to lighten the mood you know I hate seeing you so sad—I also hate not getting to show my love and appreciation for your perfect body—just wait till I get my hands on you next time I won’t go easy on you. I’ll see you soon baby. I love you.” 

Leaving Mark was always the hardest thing you had to do other than getting used to looking through a computer and phone screen to see him when you just had him around physically to hold to and to kiss you. He kept his promise in working on and bettering his communication with you. Everything slowly started falling in place for you and you were more than happy with how your relationship was going. Mark made a few trips to California during his downtime. 

Although most of his time was spent going on cute little dates with you and just spending quality time together, he did meet up with some of his friends from high school to catch up and made sure to visit his parents a couple of times. He even asked to meet Jaebeom properly; he wanted to apologize for being such an ass towards him on the night of your junior prom and he wanted to thank him for taking care of you while he was away. Mark still was trying to accept the idea of your friendship with Jaebeom, but he trusted you with every fiber of his being. 

You were surprised that it didn’t take either of them too long to find some common ground; their main purpose both being your well-being and your happiness was something they had in common. Mark actually found it quite interesting that Jaebeom was a dancer and they went back and forth about their passion for crime investigation documentaries. It wasn’t something that happened overnight; Jaebeom was still upset with Mark for being the reason behind your tears, but he was well aware that it wasn’t his business to get involved in. 

At the end of the day, you were just grateful that Mark accepted your friendship with Jaebeom for what it was because you knew you would of fell apart in these last few months if it weren’t for him. Everyone in your life—your boyfriend, your parents, your teachers and some of your friends who have graduated never failed to remind you that senior year would practically flash before your eyes. It had to be the best year of your educational career so far; there were so many different activities for seniors to participate in which Jaebeom coerced you in to doing a lot of things you would have never saw yourself signing up for. Flag football, tug-of-war, paintball, spirit week, homecoming; you were never one to find yourself in a situation where you’d get involved in school activities, but it was your last year in high school and you wanted to make the most of it. 

At one point, you didn’t care about anything other than wanting to hurry up and graduate already. You didn’t want to be the kind of person to make a decision for your life based on your significant other, but you wanted to be with Mark. He was definitely speechless when you told him you applied to the university of New York—only because he didn’t want you to feel like you had to do that for him, even if deep down he was secretly hoping you would. The university was amazing nonetheless, but your boyfriend knew there were many other colleges that had better programs for the field you were interested in joining. However, he was extremely thrilled and very outspoken about how excited he was when you opened the letter of acceptance in to the university. 

Right after you received the letter, you and Mark began planning on how he would let Jackson down gently about having to move out. As much as you couldn’t wait to finally get to have him around, you didn’t want to kick Jackson out of their dorm. It was just as much his place as it was Mark’s. That’s when you came up with the idea to move in to an apartment together. It was still a few months away, but Mark couldn’t keep in his excitement at the thought of waking up to your beautiful face every morning and getting to go to bed every night with you wrapped in his embrace. 

He began the search of apartments in the area of the university so that it would be easier for the both of you to walk rather than to waste money on transportation. The months came and went; studying for tests on top of working almost every day in order to save up for after graduation took up most of your time. Mark was very good about calling you right before he’d head out for school or once he arrived back after work or practice. It was hard to believe that you ever questioned his love for you seeing as how he could not stop reminding you that he couldn’t wait to spend forever with you. 

The last month of your senior year arrived before you could even comprehend that you were only a month away from becoming a high school graduate—and so did your boyfriend. Although you told him time and time again that you would prefer he didn’t surprise you, your soul practically left your body when you returned home from work one day to find him sitting on your bed like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“Mark, babe what the fuck are you doing here?” 

You wasted no time in throwing yourself at him and bringing your lips to his. Tonight in particular was one of the most stressful days at work you had so far and all you really wanted to do was change out of your clothes and go to sleep. Seeing Mark only broke you out of your exhaustion and the huge grin that rose on your face didn’t seem as if it was going to falter at all any time soon. 

“Did you really think I would let you go to prom with someone else other than me again? Did I not tell you how badly I wanted to rip that dress off of you and how extremely lethal you looked in it? I want to be the one to experience your magical night with you—and trust me, it’ll be even more magical once we head back to the hotel room right after—it’s like you live to torture me and not in the ways I’d prefer you would.” He began rubbing the side of his shoulder where you gently shoved him before playfully pinching your cheek. 

“Anyways, I already bought a tux, you just have to tell me what color tie to get. Oh—and I’m here till the end of summer baby, so I’ll be here to watch you graduate and I’ll be here to help you get all your things ready for New York. I still can’t completely process that I get to go back to school with you alongside of me. I’m so fucking happy, you don’t understand—and we get to live together. You know what that means.” He began to wiggle his brows and you couldn’t help but laugh at his nonchalant hint towards the activities he had in mind once you started living together. 

“Hey, I’m coming to New York for college, not to focus specifically on our sex life—“

“I know that babe, but making love to you is my favorite past time and now we’re going to have more chances in doing so—“

“You know Mark, I think there’s still some time left for me to accept UCLA—“

“You wouldn’t dare. You miss me just as much as I miss you—I meant it more than sexually. I just really can’t wait to have you around more often. There are days that are so shitty for me sometimes and all I want to do is have you hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay. We’re going to get a sneak peak at what the rest of our lives together is going to be like and I can’t wait to share that experience together with you. Now, if you’d be ever so kind, I travelled all the way here to be with you. The least you can do is show me some hospitality and maybe suck me dry? Don’t look at me like that babe IT’S BEEN THREE MONTHS.” 

You continued to keep the facade that you weren’t in the mood to do anything just to mess with him—although you were tired, Mark just had that effect on you. If you were ready for bed right as you were coming home, you were now ready to do whatever it was he asked of you. Since your parents were right downstairs, the both of you had to do your best to get reacquainted with one another as quietly as possible. For a little over two hours, you and your boyfriend experimented in different positions; his lips and tongue mapped its territory all along your breasts, neck, thighs, waist and right above your soaking entrance. It was honestly quite the task trying to keep your moans at bay; especially because your love making sessions only became more vocal the longer the two of you were away from each other. 

“I’ve missed you.” He pulled you on top of him once you both came down from your highs and left a wet kiss right below your ear. 

“I’ve missed you more. I still can’t believe you’re here and I get to have you for until I leave.” 

The rest of your evening was spent updating each other on what’s been going on in both of your lives until he fell asleep. For the rest of that week, he followed you around like a lost puppy on the days that you weren’t at work or school. You were sure most people would get tired of the clinginess and the fact that he always wanted to be with you, but it was something you genuinely enjoyed. Not once did you ever not want Mark around you—in fact you were just as tenacious when it came to him. 

Mark was more than happy to be home this time around; all his friends were also home for the summer and it felt like to good old times for him. Before you could even think about how many days you had left until graduation, senior prom came in the blink of an eye. Mark looked as handsome as ever; his hair was slicked back in a way you weren’t used to, but you knew you were going to nag him in to styling it like this all the time. He also looked very classy in his tux and you couldn’t help but laugh at the idea that his dad probably had to help him out with his tie. Your boyfriend was twenty-years-old yet he still had no clue how to fold a tie all that well. 

“Baby, I can’t get over how fucking beautiful you are. God, I can’t stop staring at you. You’re giving all of your classmates here a run for their money.” 

The night went by quicker than you would have liked; but that was because it was so much fun. Mark, like he always seemed to be was nothing short of a perfect gentleman. He made sure your night was going well by taking care of you like it was his life duty. Whenever you wanted to go talk with some of your friends at their tables, or if you had to use the bathroom, he held your things—when it got cold in the ballroom, he placed his suit jacket on your shoulders. He brought you out to the dance floor even against your many pleas because he wanted to make sure you had the time of your life. As he spun you around ever so lightly and placed his chin on your forehead, you knew that night was one of the best nights of your entire life. 

“You know the next time I’ll get to have you like this—looking effortlessly stunning and dancing with you like we’re the only two people here, you’ll be Mrs.Mark Tuan.” 

You couldn’t feel warmth fill up your entire body; his words sent fire to your bones and the thought of getting to marry him never failed to make you blush like a school girl who was approached by her crush. You looked up at him and stole a sweet kiss from the corner of his mouth before hiding your face in the crook of his neck. 

“I’ll be waiting patiently for that day, but just know—I can’t wait.” 

As soon as prom was finished, your boyfriend carried you bridal style up to the hotel room he rented for the both of you with the idea of showing you exactly what torture you caused him looking as “sexy” and “otherworldly” as you did that night. 

Graduation came less than two weeks later and as much as you couldn’t wait to finally move on to the next chapter of your life, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t going to miss being in high school. Just like most boyfriends would in order to embarrass their girlfriends; Mark had an entire banner made for you and assigned all of his friends to hold it up for you during the ceremony and afterwards while waiting for you to walk out on the field. 

You tried your best to stifle back a laugh at how crooked it was; Yugyeom practically towered over his older friends and it only made this event all the more memorable. Right as your principal called your name, gave you your honors chords and your certificate, you could hear your name being shouted from the back of the auditorium and you were sure you would melt on the spot seeing your boyfriend look at you as if you were the most ethereal goddess to exist. Unlike all of your other classmates who stayed a little while to talk to each other about their plans after high school, you made a beeline to where you knew your boyfriend, family and friends were waiting to congratulate you. 

“There’s my beautiful college graduate. You’re glowing baby. I’m so happy for you.” He pulled you in to a tight hug but before he could even kiss you, you were being yanked in every other direction by your family. 

“My youngest baby is a high school graduate and now she’s going off to college. You know y/n, there are many amazing colleges here in California. You can save your money and continue living with your father and I—“ You felt Mark wrap his hand around your waist as he took his place right next to you. He got along really well with your parents. Sometimes you felt as if they preferred him over you only because he knew the exact words to say to flatter your mom and to impress your dad. They were very good in treating him like family. However, you could tell by the tight grip that he wasn’t too fond of what your mom was trying to talk you in to doing. 

“Don’t worry Mrs.y/l/n, your daughter is in good hands. She always has been and always will be. I’ll take good care of her, I promise.” 

After saying your goodbyes to all of your relatives who flew down just to be there for your graduation, you made your way back towards Mark and his friends. BamBam and Yugyeom picked you up and spun you around while Jackson and Jinyoung pulled you against their chests and ruffled with your hair. 

“Finally! You get to come up and experience what college is actually like—that’s if lover boy here ever let’s you come out with us.”

“In your dreams losers. You got me in trouble twice for shit I didn’t even do. I’m not letting you corrupt my sweet, innocent girlfriend—“

“Y/n? Innocent? Hahaha! Don’t make us laugh. Y/n is the furthest thing from innocent. My ears are still so sore from all her screams and moans that one night I came back to our dorm to pick up some clothes while she was there. By the way, as much as I like you y/n, I’m not all that happy you’re stealing my roommate. I hope Mark knows that I should get ultimate dibs on being his best man because of it. Speaking of which, did you finally get around to asking her—ah, asking her about the color to paint your room. I think we should get going now guys, let’s allow these two lovebirds to celebrate on their own. Congratulations again y/n!” 

You’ve known Mark’s friends for quite some time now; Jackson knew something that he wasn’t supposed to tell you. The five of them were never good with keeping secrets nor were they ever good at telling lies. You didn’t have to look at Mark to know he wasn’t all too happy with Jackson; nor did you want to aggravate him even more by asking him the many questions that were on your mind. The main question being what exactly did he have yet to get around asking you? 

You knew it wasn’t just a question about your soon to be apartment together and you now you were dying to know exactly what Jackson was referring to. Oh well, it was just going to have to wait till you could find a time that Mark wasn’t around for you to ask. Summer was always your favorite season; there was so much for you to do. You decided to take a break from work in order to spend as much time with your family before having to move to New York. 

Most days, you and Mark would go around California; heading to all your favorite places together and even finding new places to make memories at. You also made sure to save some time to spend with Jaebeom seeing as how you were both going your separate ways. As much as he loved America, he missed his friends and family back in Korea. These last two years were meant specifically for him to learn English and to pick up on American culture. You knew you were going to do your best with keeping in touch with him. 

Out of all your friends, Jaebeom was one you saw being in your life for a very long time. Your relationship with your parents also grew stronger; mainly because it was just the three of you now and soon it was just going to be the two of them. To your dismay, when you got to hang out with Mark’s friends again and even when you got Jackson alone, he pretended as if he had no clue what you were talking about when you asked him what he meant back at your graduation. 

The truth was going to come out sooner or later, so you were just going to have to wait—no matter how much the curiosity was eating away at you. May, June and July never seemed to fly as quickly as they did but before you knew it, you were packing away everything you needed for college. Deep down, you were sad knowing that you were moving out of the house. You’ve been around your parents for your entire life, you weren’t sure if you were ready to live without them. Hell, your mom still made your appointments for you and even when you were to move thousands of miles away, you were sure she’d still be taking care of your responsibilities for you. 

“Make sure to call me as soon as you land. And please, call me at least five times a day. Remember, you can can always come back home—“

“Mom—“

“If you ever need me I can fly up there and—“

“Mom—“

“Even if you need to take a break, I am totally fine with you taking a year off—“

“Mom, I’ll be fine. I’m in good hands, remember?” 

You turned to look at your boyfriend putting your luggage in the back of his truck and returned his smile when he caught you looking at him. Tears started to build up at your eyelids as you looked at your mom trying her best to fight back her tears. 

“I’ll always be your little girl, don’t ever forget that. College will go by faster than we think and Mark and I plan on returning back to California once I graduate. It’s not goodbye mom, it’s just a see you later. Please take care of yourself. I love you so much.” 

Saying goodbye to your parents was harder than you thought it would be. In fact, your boyfriend had to pull to the side in order to console you and comfort you as you cried. He left gentle kisses on your forehead while he ran his hands through your hair. It didn’t take long for you to calm down, especially because Mark was really good in giving you time to let it all out before reminding you that everything was going to be okay. You were reminded of how hard it must have been for him having to leave two years ago, but now you were finally going to be together permanently. 

Mark’s touch was so comforting; you could tell he wanted to be there for you yet he also wanted to give you some space. He did everything for the both of you; brought both his and your luggage’s to security and got them checked in, found your gate and had you sit down so he could go purchase some snacks for the ride. You didn’t realize just how tired you were until you knocked out only minutes after getting settled on the plane. This meant that you weren’t able to see the way Mark was looking at you so adoringly; but it’s not something you weren’t used to. He looked at you that way all the time. You felt a gentle push on your shoulder and a few wet kisses scatter along your face and you had a feeling Mark was trying to wake you up. 

“Baby, time to get up. We’re here.” 

A huge part of you was still pretty sad that you were no longer in California, but the hand that was tightly holding yours as you were being guided through the airport reminded you as to why you were doing this. Looking at Mark right now; you never felt more at home than you did at this moment. It didn’t matter where you were, your heart was always so full having him with you. The first couple of weeks were the hardest. Getting settled in to your new apartment was a foreign feeling. Mark actually had everything set up for the both of you before he even left for California. 

You were very grateful that he was so patient and understanding with you; but it didn’t take long for you to get used to New York City and living with your boyfriend. It was actually everything you could ever hope it would be. He allowed you to make the decisions on how you wanted the place to look like. 

The apartment was shockingly very spacious; and he actually had purchased quite a lot of furniture. You were shocked to see just how nice the place actually was—you didn’t think Mark was capable of being an interior designer, but you decided to keep the place looking the way it did. Your bedroom had to be your favorite place in the unit, he had a couple of photos of the two of you scattered throughout the room and separated both your sides of the closet and on the bathroom sink. 

He put so much effort in to making sure you were content and it only made your feelings for the older boy grow stronger if it was even possible. College wasn’t at all what you were expecting it to be and you were silently cursing all of Mark’s friends for telling you that it was such a fun experience. Mark introduced you to a couple of his teammates and a few friends he’s made in the last two years while giving you a tour of the campus and showing you where your classes were. You ended up getting a job at your school’s library in order to help Mark pay for the rent and other necessities. 

Even if it was just your first year in college, there were days you would find yourself crying because of how strenuous the work load was on top of having to work. There were also days where Mark was constantly at work, practice or school and you didn’t want to put even more stress on him knowing how exhausted he would be whenever he’d come home. 

One night, he texted you saying he would be coming home late in order to pick up this week’a groceries. You didn’t think much of it; although, normally the two of you would go together so that you both could get the things you either needed or simply just wanted. Your boyfriend also had a bad habit of buying a bunch of unnecessary items he never needed, so you tried your best to make sure you’d be there with him. But this week, you’ve been picking up a lot of late night shifts and Mark could tell the last thing you wanted to do was go grocery shopping, no matter how much you enjoyed doing something so domestic with him. 

When you reached your apartment, you saw his shoes in the cubby hole and his backpack by the counter—so you knew he was home. Everything seemed put away; you checked the fridge and all the shelves were filled with different kinds of food and drinks. He also got the essentials; dishwashing liquid, laundry soap, dryer sheets, shampoo and conditioner. Something didn’t feel right though; normally, he would be out in the living room playing video games or doing his work at the dining table. 

Maybe he was tired; you still couldn’t understand how he could manage five classes a week, playing sports for hours on end and going straight to work right after only to come home like he had all the energy in the world. Right as you were about to look around for him, you saw a crumpled paper in the corner of your eye which you assumed to be the receipt. 

Curiosity got the best of you—he always paid for the groceries no matter how many times you’d tell him to split the bill. In fact, he would pay for pretty much anything and told you to save your money to buy things you wanted to. It was hard accepting the fact that he did all of this for you—sacrificed so much for you because he loved you with his entire being only because you didn’t feel like you deserved any of it. If anything, he was the one who deserved so much more than what you could give him. When you scanned the receipt, everything seemed perfectly normal—he purchased every item the two of you would normally buy. 

However, towards the bottom of the list you saw something that made you confused, yet you let out a little giggle. 

“Mark!” You began walking towards your bedroom in the hopes of getting an explanation as to why he felt the need to buy his favorite cookies in bulk. 

“Babe, I know you love nutter butter, but eight packages? Are you preparing for an apocalypse or something—oh my God.” 

Your question was answered as soon as you opened the door. There, in all of his devastatingly handsome glory, your boyfriend of ten years, down on one knee with a red box in his hand and a tray of nutter butter on the bed spelling out the words “will you marry me?” There were roses scattered all over the ground and candles spread throughout the room. Your heart was racing faster that it ever has in your entire life. 

“Mark—“

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

The smile on his face was barely reaching his eyes and you could tell it was because he was nervous. He was shaking and he looked like he was on the verge of throwing up; you couldn’t understand why though. Sure, marriage proposals were always so nerve wrecking, but he should already know the answer. You slowly walked toward him and gently kneeled to his level while cupping his cheeks in your hands. 

“I know this isn’t as romantic as you probably would have wanted it to be. Trust me, I planned out many different scenarios about how this was going to pan out. The guys told me to take you to a beach, or a fancy restaurant but I thought this would be more meaningful. I mean, I realized you were someone special to me when I shared my nutter butter with you over thirteen years ago. You know you are the only person I would do such a thing for—you’re the only person I’d do anything for. I’d give you my kidney if you needed it. I know—we’re still so young to be getting married, but I just couldn’t wait anymore. I’ve been in love with you before I even knew what the word love meant. I’d tell my parents I loved them; I told each and every one of my siblings that I loved them—but with you, it was a different kind of love. It was the kind of love that—I don’t know, my heart always felt so happy and so full every minute I spent with you. You showed me what love is—you made me feel loved and cared for in ways that I don’t think I could ever be able to thank you for doing. You are the most beautiful, funny, charismatic, intelligent, wonderful and honestly perfect human being to walk this earth. God—I can’t even—I’m so fucking in love with you. We’ve had a few ups and downs, but it only made me realize that you are the only person I want to go through hell and back with. You and I are soulmates baby, there’s no doubt about it. I’ve been blessed to have you in my life for almost fifteen years now and I can’t wait to spend an eternity with you. Y/n, will you do the amazing honor and continue to make me the happiest man on earth by marrying me?”

[amor-immortalem]

My Adoring Fan ch. 3

Chapter 2 chapter 4

“Damn it. I keep missin’ the door handle...” The half demon grumbled as she kept reaching for the knob. Eventually, it occurred to her that maybe she should use her right hand to feel around for it and open it that way. As she opened the door, she stuck her head in the door way, not wanting to invade her favorite human’s space fully.

“Maaaaaax, can I ask a favor of you?”

“I don’t know, can you?” Max teased before turning her attention to the cambion, “What do you need, Sunshine?”

As slight blush crossed her cheeks at the nickname, “I was, uh.... I was wondering... if you’d watch while I cook ta make sure I don’t hurt myself...” Azalea looked down, embarrassed. She had just been making a fuss about feeling like she was being babied and now here she was, asking for help when she could do it herself if she tried hard enough.

“Yeah sure. I thought it was your brother’s turn to cook tonight?” She sets the spell book she was studying down.

“He’s not doin’ too hot right now... So he asked if I would do it instead since Zulima’s not allowed anywhere near the kitchen when it comes to cooking dinner.”

“How about I cook tonight instead and you can help me?” The human offered. “I live here too so there’s no reason I can’t cook in place of one you two. By the way your cousins not that bad of a cook. I find it to be enjoyable actually.”

“Are... Are we eating the same cooking?”

“You two are just picky,” She stuck her tongue out at Azalea and Azalea repeated the action.

“C’mon then, let’s go before Hakan starts to destroy the house. Snacks will only satisfy the kid for so long.”

“Alright, alright, I’m coming.” Max rolled her eyes with a soft smile.

“That’s what she said,” The half-demon laughs at her own joke

“Azalea!”

“Bye!” The girl takes off, heading toward the kitchen.

--------------------------------------

“Heya, weeb supreme, what’s got ya so bent out of shape?” Azalea asks as she ruffles Henry’s purple hair.

“My favorite idol is going on hiatus and she has no plans to come back yet” The boy’s eyes were wet with tears. “How could she do this to her fans.”

“Bruh... she’s a person too. Maybe she just wants a break, did ya ever think of that?”

“Yeah but she could have told us sooner instead of just dipping on us like that!” Henry puffs out his cheeks. "A normie like you wouldn’t understand what it feels like to just be abandoned like that.”

“What did you say?” She asks as a threatening aura emanating from her. “Pretty bold of ya considerin’ you’re scared of everything up to your own shadow.”

“N-Nothing,” He squeaks. “Sorry.”

“Thought so. Now off with ya. Go play some games or somethin’.”

Henry nodded and scrambled out of the kitchen as Max came in.

“What’s his deal?” She asks.

“Oh nothin’,” Azalea smiled. “Just angsty weeb things, nothin’ to worry ‘bout.

“Mhm, sure,” Max was doubtful. “Just get the good out alright?”

--------------------------------------

“Yo, ‘Relius, how ya feeling?” Azalea barged into her twin's room before promptly running into the side of his desk. “Oww,”

“You just do not learn, do you?” The younger twin chuckles at the ridiculous of the scene. “Why don’t you have that dumb stick the doctors gave you so you know what’s in front of you on that side?”

“’Cuz its stupid. I got one eye left so I don’t need it.” Azalea pouts as she rubs her hip where she bumped into the desk.”

“You very clearly do considering you misjudged where my desk was and the amount of lamp posts you ran into on our way to school last term.” Aurelius sighs, “If you go back home with any more bruises from running in to shit, you’re gonna give Dad a stroke.”

“Eh, I’ll figure it out eventually. He worries too much.”

“Whatever you say, ‘Zay, whatever you say. Anyway, I’m doing better, thanks for asking. Has Henry stopped fussing over that idol yet?”

“Prolly not. Who knows with him...” She shrugs. “So, about that letter...”

“You’re not fighting anybody.” Aurelius shuts her down quickly, “I don’t even know who sent it other than an initial.”

“Boo, you whore,” She made her way over to his bed and plopped down on it. “Anywho, peppers are in the oven. Max cut ‘em for me and I stuffed ‘em.”

“Thought you wanted to do everything by yourself? Or is it different with her?” He teased.

“Shaddup!” Azalea threw his pillow at him. “It ain’t like that okay?”

“Suuuuure,” He laughed as his sister’s face turned beet red. “We all know the truth, Simp.”

“Stoooop! She’s just my friend!”

“But you don’t want her to be~” he says in a loud sing-song voice, hoping Max might overhear them, “Admit it ‘Zalea. You’ve got a crush.”

“Lower your voice and stop teasing me!”

“Not until I hear you say it.” He smiles.

“You’re a sadist, ya know that? Why do you do this to your only sister?!”

“Because it’s fun for me. Now say it.”

“Fiiiiiiiine,” the older half-demon groans, “I've got a crush on my friend.” It's said in a mumble.

“Huh? Couldn’t hear you. Could you say that again?” Unknown to her, Aurelius had started recording her confession.

“I said I have a crush on Max! There I said it! Happy?” She practically yells as her face turns an even deeper shade of red.

“Oh, yes I am.” He chuckles as he stops recording and Azalea realizes the mistake she’s made.

“You delete that right now!”

“Come over here and make me.” He gets up and pockets his phone as she dives at him.

With a quick dodge to the right where she can’t see him, Aurelius books it down the hall and down the stairwell. Azalea gives chase but runs smack dab into a wall which buys the younger twin more time to get out of the house. As he passes the common room where everyone is hanging out waiting for dinner, he yells out,

“I’m going out. My sister’s going to kill me. Don’t wait up.” And with that he’s out the door and dashing down the sidewalk and into the night.

--------------------------------------

She was doing her last-minute shopping before the new school term started next week. As she shouldered her bags, the now on hiatus idol steps out of the shop when she gets nearly run over by Aurelius who was still trying to put as much distance between him and Azalea as possible.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.” He says as he helps her up, he’s slightly out of breath. “I should have been watching where I was going.”

She’s a little starstruck as she stares up at him. She was hoping they would meet soon, she just never thought they would literally crash into each other. “I- Oh no, I’m alright. Don’t worry about it. What about you? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, I’m alright,” he smiled. “Thanks for asking though.” Aurelius keeps looking behind him for any signs of his sister.

“Were you running from someone...” She pretends not to know his name. She needs a reason to introduce herself after all.

“Yeah, my sister. I have something she really doesn’t want anyone hearing.” He doesn’t introduce himself, assuming she already knew who he was which wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t need to know that. “I assume you already know my name, but I’ve never seen you around town before... Are you new here?”

“No, I don’t. And yes, I’m transferring to RAD this term.” The succubus thinks she has a pretty good poker face but he gives her an odd look- like he’s surprised. “My name’s Persephone, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Persephone.” he thinks she lying but she has no tells that he can recognize. If she is, maybe she’s only lying so he doesn’t feel uncomfortable for nearly plowing over a fan of his.

“You really don’t know who I am? Do you read DevilStyle teen?” Persephone only shakes her head, another bald-faced lie. “Well, that’s refreshing. My name’s Aurelius.” he holds a hand out to her with a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

The succubus takes his hand and shakes it with a smile on her face but internally she’s screaming.

“So which dorm are you in?”

“The House of Sorrow.” Her response makes him stop.

The House of Sorrow? And her name starts with a ‘P’... Oh.... Oh no. Okay, play this cool, man. Don’t act weird about this. She seems normal enough so maybe it’s not her. Ahh but it’s as Uncle Asmo always says: ‘Crazy hides well underneath normal’.

“AURELIUS! WHERE’D YOU GO, YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

“And that’s my cue. Sorry to cut this short but I have to get moving.” He says as he brings his demon form out. “Maybe we’ll have classes together at school. I’ll see you around, Persephone.” He hopes they don’t. In fact, if she is ‘P’, he hopes they never meet again but he’s trying to act personable. “Bye!” And as soon as he came, he was gone- soaring high into the sky. “By the way, you might want to take a few steps back! My sister’s about to come barreling through here in a matter of seconds!

The former idol can only nod as she thinks he looks even more beautiful in person.

--------------------------------------

find more on my masterlist

[goroakechioneshots]

Maybe One Day (Goro Akechi x Reader): Affection… such things had ultimately been denied to Goro Akechi throughout the entirety of his childhood, and so he found it an unnecessary hassle to give such treatment to others. Outside his usual ‘detective prince’ mannerisms, he simply didn’t associate himself with people if it could be helped. All his pining fangirls were turned down. Gently, of course, because it would ruin the spotless reputation he’d fought so hard to build up if he met their constant confessions and flirtatious advances with hostility.

And then there was you…

At first, he assumed you would be no different to the masses he’d charmed before. However, his detective prince facade fell flat in your eyes. Not to say that you had rudely dismissed him, but there was a certain lack of interest in your gaze when he was around. He couldn’t help but wonder why that was. Everyone was on a mission to appease him; his classmates, his teachers, his fangirls, the media… But you treated him like just another person. Then again, Akechi didn’t mull over this at first. It wasn’t too weird that one person out of hundreds didn’t seem to care when they were talking to a celebrity. There were more important things to focus on, and so these brief thoughts faded into the background for a while.

That is, until you were both assigned on a group project together.

Goro was grateful that the teacher had assigned the groups herself, because whenever a project came up he was always swarmed with other students hoping to partner with him. Not because he was smart, but just so they could brag to people or make it out as though they were friends. It was a real hassle, and Akechi would end up lowkey begging the teacher to let him work alone. Which, of course, would wind up piling more work onto the strenuous detective duties he already took on.

After the bell rang, he approached you. Admittedly, with some apprehension. Even though you had shown little to no interest in him or his detective role in the past, it was hard to shake the inkling that people only cared about being around him for his status.

“Ah! LastName-san…? I believe we were assigned to work on the history project together.” He approached your desk near the upper middle of the room, giving the pleasant smile which always had his fangirls swooning.

You looked up at him, a book open on your desk, then looked around the room blearily. Had the bell already rung? A little disgruntled that time had passed so quickly, you closed your book and began gathering your things. “Oh… ok. Do you want me to focus on the economic and political sections while you handle geography and culture? Or whichever you want to work on… I don’t mind.”

Akechi analyzed the out-of-touch figure before him somewhat curiously. Such a straightforward and business-like response. You hadn’t even smiled at him, though you didn’t frown or glare either. There was an odd glint to your eyes though, that mellowed out when the both of you made eye contact. He honestly wasn’t used to it.

He played innocent, as always, and laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his head. “Geography and culture works fine… The other two areas aren’t really my strong suit.”

It was a natural attempt to win your interest. Not because he wanted it, parsay, but because he was so used to utilizing his detective persona to make people favor him… he was caught a little off-guard when you ignored it once more.

“Alright.” And that was it. You grabbed your bag, swung it over your shoulder, and meandered off. No attempt to elongate the conversation.

Akechi hummed to himself thoughtfully as you left the class, but a text notification distracted him. He pulled out his phone. It was from Shido… A scowl nearly adorned his lips, but he held it back. Couldn’t let his peers see him break character, after all. More importantly, it seemed he wouldn’t have time to work on the project tonight. There was business to deal with in the Metaverse… again.

Several weeks passed. Between his detective work, other classes, and commands from Shido, it wasn’t too uncommon for him to slip on an assignment or two. That said, the history project had been completely ushered to the back of his mind until, surprisingly, you approached him one day after class.

“Hey. I finished my half of the project and compiled it onto some slides. Can you send me your half when it’s done so I can save the completed assignment on a flash drive?”

Oh…

Oh shit…

In a flash, Akechi turned his charm up and attempted to weasel his way out of the situation, putting on a grand show of being ashamed and distressed to really nail the sympathy home. “Ah! Yes, the project… I… have a confession to make. I’ve been so busy with interviews and work that I haven’t been able to complete much.”

Any other doting classmate would have reacted with a ‘worried’ expression. Told him not to push himself too hard and excused him, offering to complete it themselves. His peers would often do anything for the sake of getting his attention for more than a few minutes, and he’d manipulated this to his advantage often. Always rewarding their efforts with a grateful smile and feigned embarrassment.

Not you…

For a moment, you blankly stared at his little ‘have sympathy and excuse me from my responsibilities’ act. He was a good actor. Too good. Unfortunately, you were a master at seeing beyond manipulation, for reasons linked to childhood which you would never share with another soul as long as you lived.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You lied. “Maybe you should cut back on the interviews.”

Akechi paused for a split second at this. It was a very unorthodox response. He realized suddenly that it was going to take a lot more than his usual charm to sway you.

He began to speak, but found he was cut off before he could get a word out.

“There’s still a week left. Crappy work is better than none at all.” You shrugged.

No. No, that wouldn’t do. Goro Akechi couldn’t have a terribly done project. He was the reflection of perfection. His teachers and other students revered him for it. Not that it would be a noticeable damper in his reputation, but he was painstakingly meticulous about every little thing he did.

His feigned embarrassment was starting to shift into real embarrassment. “Is… Is there any way you could… maybe-“

“I’m not committing academic fraud, detective.”

Akechi felt his face flush at how bluntly you called him out, and a few students glanced at the term. Quickly gathering himself and giving a nervous laugh, he insisted, “That’s not what I meant…”

It seemed he’d be stuck scrapping up this half of the project one way or another. A part of him deep down wanted to growl at you like some sort of animal for putting him in such a strenuous situation. There was no ignoring Shido’s orders, but perhaps if he cut off all the interviews for a week and pulled some all-nighters, he’d be able to bring up something presentable. A twinge of disdain for the coming sleepless nights crossed his face.

You watched him carefully, then sighed. “What if I help you?”

He perked up. Perhaps his charisma had won out after all. “That would be great. I’m sorry for the hassle-“

“I never said I was doing it all for you.” You interrupted before that thought could go any further. “We could do a study session. I can look up relevant links and pass them on for you and whatnot, but you’d still be doing the work.”

It was almost funny how suddenly the ‘detective prince’ deflated at this. Still, it was a better deal than finding all the links and information on his own. At the very least, he’d have information passed on to him. It would make the process of research quicker and smoother.

“I suppose that would be fair, wouldn’t it?” He stated, in that pleasant tone he always forced with others.

You gave something of a partial laugh. “You don’t have to act like you’re not mad at me.”

Akechi blinked at you. Was it that easy to tell? Was he not putting up as good an act as he thought he was? This made him secretly flustered for a moment, but you continued before he could try and insist he wasn’t mad.

“We could meet at the school library after school if it works.” You offered.

That wouldn’t work well… “I often have last minute duties to fulfill after school hours.”

Those last minute ‘duties’ were always Shido calling him and handing over a targets name. Sometimes multiple. And if those targets weren’t taken care of in a timely manner, Akechi would be on the receiving end of some violent fits. He shuddered a bit internally. The man would pay eventually. It was just a matter of careful planning and making sure the newly renowned Phantom Thieves didn’t get any larger than they already were.

You frowned, and he knew this vague answer was likely being interpreted as him being lazy, so he wracked his brain for what few times of the day he was actually given time to himself.

“I suppose lunch would work…” He said, with some hesitation.

It sucked that his one time of the day unoccupied by people or stress would now be invaded with both another person and schoolwork, but he knew he needed the help, loath as he was to admit it. He had permission to eat in a certain teacher’s classroom, and used it as a hideaway so that a flood of fans wouldn’t fight to sit with him. And, frankly, he didn’t want to sit with anyone.

“Alright.” You agreed. “We can meet during lunch till it’s done.”

………………………………………………..

For the next few days, Akechi found himself carrying his lunch tray up to the library where you would be waiting with several books and a laptop open ready to assist him. He loathed it at first, but… something strange began to occur. You began to actually engage in conversation with him. When he was working on a section that didn’t require his or your complete focus, the two of you would talk and hang out.

Random, ridiculous conversations such as ‘what’s your favorite book?’ or ‘did you ever watch Neorangers Featherman when you were a kid, or was that just me?’. He hadn’t even realized when he began to answer honestly and not bother trying to fabricate his lies. He didn’t have to, with such trivial things. And yet, he found he enjoyed it. You, talking to him like he was just another peer.

His half of the project was finished faster than he anticipated it would, likely in part to your handiness with the search bar and library archives. The project, once put together, would be easily passible as an A. Maybe even an A+. He breathed a sigh of relief when it was over, and returned to his usual lunch routine…

At least, that’s what should have happened.

Even after the project was complete, Goro found himself coming to eat lunch with you. It was a little awkward the first time he sought you out during lunch with no particular agenda. He wasn’t sure what he was doing. He always chose to spend his lunch alone, so why did he want to eat with you again? Perhaps it was intrigue… There was something off about you. Something that he couldn’t quite place, and he resigned himself to eat lunch with you and spend time until he figured out what it was.

‘It’s to hone my detective skills.’ He reasoned weakly with himself each time.

And you didn’t attempt to avoid him either. You had a little section on the rooftop, a part that wasn’t closed off to students yet was seldom populated, that you sat. Akechi joined you, and eating there just became a regular routine. This didn’t mean he would show his true self, however. He still kept up the facade, spilling his heart out about his justice and ideals, then waiting to see your inevitably underwhelming reaction. Often a shrug or a simple ‘cool’. It was like a game, trying to peak your interest. A game that he refused to believe he was losing.

Then, one day, with the strangest look in your eyes… you smiled. You smiled at him, and it actually caused the detective prince to pause with mild astonishment. The smile was so sincere and yet, so mysterious.

“Akechi… when am I going to get to meet you?” You asked.

The question rolled out like it was normal, and Goro couldn’t help but be confused. Meet him? They’d… already met. Several weeks prior. Was this a trick question?

“I… wasn’t aware we hadn’t.” He laughed, confusion evident. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

Your smile grew a bit, and you shook your head. “I’ve become well acquainted with your public image. When am I going to meet you?”

For a moment, one could hear a pin drop. Goro froze, for the first time in a long time, appearing truly caught off guard, as the words sank in. How… how did you know? He never let his detective facade fall. At least… he thought he hadn’t. Had he? You were looking at him, both curious and unusually gentle.

You leaned back a bit, seeming thoughtful. “I guess I should rephrase that question. Will I get to meet you?”

Akechi swallowed and lied. “I’m… not sure I follow.”

The smile melted away into a soft frown, then to acceptance. “I guess not.”

The silence following this was incredibly awkward, as Goro tried to wrap his head around the fact that you’d seen through him so easily. It was more frightening than it should’ve been, and he began to wonder if spending time around you was a bad idea after all. His throat was dry, and yet he found himself speaking.

He could hardly believe his own words. “Maybe one day…”

[oneweekoneband]

I’m slightly nauseous already with knowing I’m going to say this, but what does “self-awareness”  even mean? In modern parlance, as a descriptive phrase, as a comment on art? I’m asking in earnest, like, I’ve been Googling lately, which for me is basically on par with doctoral study in terms of academic rigor. The self is king, anyway, tyrant, so where is the line of distinction between material that intentionally is nodding at some truth about the artist’s life and what’s just, like, all the rest of the regular navel-gazing bullshit. I mean, I’m all self, I am guilty here. I can’t get it out of my poems or even make it more quiet. This is the tenth time I’ve invoked “I” in the space of six sentences. Processing art has always necessitated a certain amount of grappling with the creator, but the busywork of it lately grows more and more tedious. Joy drains out of my body parsing marks left behind not just in stylistic tendencies and themes, but in literal, intentional tags like graffiti on a water tower. This feels an age old and moth-holed complaint, dull, and I am no historian, or really a serious thinker of any kind. I’ve now complained at some length about self-referential art, but didn’t I love how Martin Scorsese nodded to the famous Goodfellas Copacabana tracking shot with the opening frames of last year’s The Irishman? Didn’t I find that terribly fun and sort of sweet? So there’s distinctions. I’m only saying I don’t know with certainty what they even are. I’m unreliable, and someone smarter than me has likely already solved my quandary about why self-knowledge often transforms into overly precious self-reflexivity in such a way that the knowledge is diminished and obscured, leaving only cutesy Easter eggs behind. Postmodernism has birthed a moralizing culture where art exists to be termed either “self-aware Good” or “self-aware Bad”.  Self-referentiality in media is so commonplace, so much the standard, that what was once credited as metatextual inventiveness often feels lazy now. In 1996, Scream was revitalizing a genre. Today, two thirds of all horror movies spend half their running time making sure that you know that they know they’re a horror movie, which is fine, I guess, except sometimes you just wanna watch someone get butchered with an axe in peace. 

This is all to say that in 2020 Taylor Swift looked long and hard upon her image in the reflecting pool of her heart and has written yet another song about Gone Girl.

“mirrorball” is a very good piece of Gone Girl —feels insane to tell anyone reading a post on a blog what Gone Girl is but, you know, the extremely popular 2012 novel about a woman who pretends to have been murdered and frames her husband for it, and subsequently the 2014 film adaption where you kinda see Ben Affleck’s dick for a second—fanfiction. It would be a fine song, a good song, really, even if it weren’t that, if it were just something normal and not unhinged written by a chill person who behaves in a regular way, but we need to acknowledge the facts for what they are. When Taylor Swift watched Rosamund Pike toss her freshly self-bobbed hair out of her face and hiss, “You think you’d be happy with some nice Midwestern girl? No way, baby. I’m it!” her brain lit up like a Christmas tree, and she’s never been the same. If you Google “taylor swift gone girl” there waiting for you will be a medium sized lake’s worth of articles speculating about how Gone Girl influenced and is referenced in past Swift singles “Blank Space” and “Look What You Made Me Do”. This is not new behavior, and if anything it’s getting a bit troubling to think that it’s been this long since Taylor’s read another book. Still, while the prior offerings were a fair attempt at this particular feat of depravity, “mirrorball” has brought Taylor’s Amy Elliott Dunne deification to stunning new heights. And most importantly, Taylor has done a service to every person alive with more than six brain cells and a Internet connection by putting an end to the “Cool Girl” discourse once and for all. By the power invested in “mirrorball”, it is hereby decreed that the Cool Girl speech from Gone Girl is neither feminist or antifeminist, not ironic nor aspirational. No. It’s something much better than all that. It’s a threat. I ! Can ! Change ! Everything ! About ! Me ! To ! Fit ! In !

Gone Girl (2012) by Gillian Flynn

“mirrorball” (2020) by Taylor Swift

When the twinkly musical stylings of Jack Antonoff, a man I distinctly distrust, but for no one specific reason, whirl to life at the beginning of this song I feel instantly entranced, blurry-brained and pleasure-pickled like an infant beneath a light-up crib mobile or, I guess, myself in the old times, the outside times, three tequila sodas deep under the disco lights at The Short Stop. Under a mirrorball in my head. I know very little about music, as a craft, and I really don’t care to know more. I’m happy in a world of pure, dumb sensation. I’m not even sure what kind of instruments are making these jangly little sounds. I just like it. I am vibing. We may not ever be able to behave badly in a club again, but I can sway to my stupid Taylor Swift-and-the-brother-of-the-lady-who-makes-like-those-sweatshirts-with-little-sayings-or-like-vulvas-which-famous-white-women-wear-on-instagram-you-know-what-I-mean song, pressing up onto my tiptoes on the linoleum tile of our kitchen floor and can feel for a second or two something approaching bliss. “mirrorball” is a lush sound bath that I like a lot and then also it’s about being all things to all people, chameleoning at a second’s notice, doing Oscar worthy work on every Zoom call, performing the you who is good, performing the you who is funny, performing the you who draws a liter of your own blood and throws it around the kitchen then cleans it up badly all to get your husband sent to jail for sleeping with a college student... Too much talk about making and unmaking of the self is way too, like, 2012 Tumblr for me now, and I start hearing the word “praxis” ring threateningly in my head, but I’m not yet so evolved that I don’t feel a pull. Musings on the disorganized self—on how we are new all the time, and not just because of all the fresh skin coming up under the dead, personhood in the end so frighteningly flexible—are always going to compel me, I’m afraid, but that goes double for musings on the disorganized self which posit that Taylor Swift still thinks Amy Dunne made some points.

Because on “mirrorball” Taylor is for once not hamfistedly addressing some “hater”, in the quiet and the lack of embarrassing martyrdom it actually offers an interesting answer to the complaint that Taylor is insufficiently self-aware. This criticism emerges often in tandem with claiming to have discovered some crack in the chassis of Swift’s public self, revealing the sweetness to be insincere. My instinct is to dismiss this more or less out of hand as just a mutation of the school of thought that presumes all work by women must be autobiography. And, regardless, it is made altogether laughable by the fact that anyone actually paying attention has known since at least Speak Now, a delightful record populated by the most appalling, horrible characters imaginable, and all of them written by a twenty year old Taylor Swift, that this woman is a pure weirdo. To accuse Taylor Swift of lacking in self-awareness is a reductive misunderstanding, I think, of artifice. Being a fake bitch takes work. Which is to say, if we agree that her public self is a calculated performance—eliding the fact that all public selves are a performance to avoid getting too in the weeds yadda yadda— why, then, should it be presumed that performance is rooted in ignorance? Would it not make more sense that, in fact, someone able to contort themselves so ably into various shapes for public consumption would have a certain understanding of the basic materials they’re working with and concealing? Taylor Swift, in a decade and a half of fame, has presented herself from inside a number of distinct packages. The gangly teenager draped in long curls like climbing wisteria who wrote lyrics down her arms in glitter paint gave way to red lipstick, a Diet Coke campaign, and bad dancing at awards shows. There was the period where she was surrounded constantly by a gaggle of models, then suddenly wasn’t anymore, and that rough interlude with the bleached hair. The whole Polaroid thing. Last year she boldly revealed she’s a democrat. Now it’s the end of the world and she’s got frizzy bangs and flannels and muted little piano songs. Perhaps this endless shape-shifting contradicts or undermines, for some, the pose of tender authenticity which has remained static through each phase, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t been doing it all on purpose the entire time. I’ve never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try...

In the Disney+ documentary—which, in order to watch, I had to grudgingly give the vile mouse seven dollars, because the login information that I’d begged off of my little sister didn’t work and I was too embarrassed to bring it up a second time—Taylor referred to “mirrorball” as the first time on the album where she explicitly addressed the pandemic, referring to the lyrics that start, “And they called off the circus, Burned the disco down,” and end with “I’m still on that tightrope, I’m still trying everything to get you laughing at me,” which actually did made me laugh, feeling sort of warmly foolish and a little fond, because it never would have occurred to me that she was trying to be literal there. I suppose we really do all contain multitudes. Hate that.