#he needs that deep compression real bad

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

"I'm liking this angle," Steve lilts.

Billy smirks as he shifts, straddling Steve's hips and flattening his palms against his chest.

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm." Steve rubs his lover's outer thighs. "I just love looking at you."

"God, you're such a flirt. It's making me wanna drag you to bed and put a sock on the door."

"Gross," Max interjects.

Steve chuckles when Billy casts a faux glare at his sister.

"If gay shit makes you uncomfortable, you can leave."

"If gay shit made me uncomfortable, I wouldn't have come over," Max retorts. "I reserve my right to get the icks from hearing you talk about sex stuff."

"Oh, does gay sex gross you out, shitbird?"

"Any sex that you have grosses me out." Max glances up from her homework. "No offense, Steve."

"None taken. Your brother's pretty gross."

Steve whines dramatically when Billy smacks him on the chest.

"So much for romance," Billy tuts.

"Aw, c'mon, I'm just teasing."

Billy sits up and crosses his arms. Pouting silently. Steve slides one of his hands up to his partner's waist and rubs softly from side to side.

"Can I have a kiss?" he coos.

His tone has the blond relaxing, leaning down and complying with the request after a moment. Their bodies are flush. Steve would never say it out loud, but the full weight of his partner on top like this feels comparable to being smothered.

In the best possible way.

Steve hums, smoothing his palms up and wrapping his arms around Billy's lower back. When they part, Billy shifts downward so he can rest his head on Steve's chest.

"Am I crushing you?"

"Never."

"Mm, one of these days we're gonna be cuddling like this and you're gonna die in your sleep because you're too polite."

"Just be sure to put that I died doing what I loved on my headstone."

Billy chuckles and Steve spreads a smile.

"C'mon," Billy says.

He shifts off of Steve and lies on his side, opening his arm. Without the pressure, Steve is able to breathe deeper, and he can see a flush of heat cross Billy's expression when he sucks in a quiet breath.

Without protest, Steve rolls over to face his lover, moving into his chest and relishing in the feeling of strong arms wrapping around him.

"Y'know," Billy begins. He pets Steve's hair and noses a kiss on the top of his head. "If I'm seriously too heavy, it won't hurt my feelings if you tell me to get off. I know we joke about it but I really don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

"I love it, though," he coos.

"I know. I'm just saying."

"You're a big guy, sure, but I can handle you perfectly fine. I'm not scrawny, y'know."

Steve smooths his hand up and down Billy's back. Nuzzles into his chest and breathes in his scent.

"Okay, okay," Billy chuckles. "I just worry about it sometimes is all."

"I don't."

"No?"

"I really like how it feels when you lie on top of me. Like, yeah, you're heavy, but it's like all of my stress is washed out whenever I’m under you, and I'm finally able to relax."

Billy is quiet for a moment. He presses another kiss to Steve's hair and squeezes him.

"Didn't know you felt like that," he coos.

"I thought if I told you, you'd only hear the part about you being heavy and not wanna do it anymore."

"Mm, we can still snuggle like that. Do I need to start giving you stronger hugs, Stevie?"

Steve sighs, closing his eyes.

"I'd like that."

Almost immediately, Billy wraps him up tighter in his arms and hugs him close, pulling an involuntary sound from Steve's lips.

Rather than say anything, Billy just continues cuddling like that. Keeps Steve pressed against him and smudges kisses on the top of his head. At least, he does for a little while. When he finally relaxes his grip, Steve sucks in another quiet breath and sighs deeply, his entire body going limp.

"That was nice," he hums.

"Better?"

"Mhmm," Steve sighs. "I love you so much, sweet thing."

"I love you too," Billy chuckles.

He pets Steve's hair. It's quiet for a beat until Max drops her pencil on the coffee table and leans back on her hands.

"Sometimes I wish I could just live here," she says.

Steve rolls over and raises his eyebrows.

"You kinda already do."

"No, I mean like all the time." She looks over at the couple and then back at the coffee table. "Being around my parents is exhausting, and they don't ever let Lucas come around because he's a boy. Not to mention that they don't even like each other, not like you guys do."

Billy props himself up on his elbow and dawns a sympathetic expression.

"You know you're welcome to come over anytime, right? And that it's okay to invite Sinclair," he coos.

"Mhm," Steve adds. "Just let us know, and we're fine with picking you guys up and stuff too."

Max nods to herself. Redness quickly overtakes her complexion and Billy and Steve are quick to sit up when she sniffles.

"It's just so different coming over here. Being around you guys when you talk about going on dates and how much you love each other, even your arguments, is making me realize how shitty things are at home."

Billy slides off of the sofa and sits next to his sister on the floor, reaching around her shoulders and pulling her into his chest. She complies almost immediately, buries her face into his shoulder and takes handfuls of his shirt as tears spill down her cheeks.

He shushes her quietly. Rubs her back and squeezes her tighter. After a few moments, her breath evens out, and she sighs.

Steve joins them on the floor and sets a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Do you want me to talk to Susan about it?" Billy asks softly.

Max nods. Squeezing her eyes shut and sniffling. Billy glances at Steve and the brunet offers a smile.

"Of course," he says.

"I'll talk to her about it tomorrow, then." Billy gives Max one last squeeze before he loosens his grip and she leans back to wipe her eyes. "How about you take a break from homework and we go out to eat somewhere? Would that make you feel better, Squirt?"

Max smiles and nods, giggling when Billy playfully nudges her shoulder with his arm as he stands up.

"You do give really good hugs, by the way," she says.

"Can it and go put your shoes on."

She giggles again and gets up as well, padding into her bedroom and sitting on the bed to lace her sneakers up.

Steve leans into his partner's side and smooths his hand over his chest, tilting his face up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"You're such a big sweetheart," he croons.

"Mm, you really don't mind? I know I was asking a lot just to have her live here sometimes, but this is like—"

He's cut off by Steve sealing their lips together. It lasts for a beat, and when they part, Steve is smiling fondly at him.

"I'm more than okay with it. I know you're worried about her, and I don't mind her living here with us at all," Steve says. He pats Billy's chest and smirks. "We're probably gonna have to get her noise-cancelling headphones, though. I can't really imagine you succeeding at being quiet."

"Oh my god, gross," Max groans.

Billy scoffs and nods towards the door.

"Go put your bike in the garage, brat, we'll be out in a second."

Max rolls her eyes and trudges to the front door, leaving it open behind her once she goes outside and Billy tsks as he snatches his keys off the hook.

"Wait, does this mean no more couch sex?"

Max runs back up the steps, swinging into the doorframe with a look of horror on her face.

"What? I am never sitting on that couch ever again!"

"Bike. Garage. Now," Billy hisses.

Steve clasps his hand over his mouth and resists the urge to laugh, especially when their sibling banter continues out on the porch. He simply shakes his head and grabs his coat before following them out the door.

-

This will be added to my things from tumblr series on ao3 here shortly under the title Big Brothers if you’re looking to save it on there <3

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #max mayfield #max and billy #chubby billy hargrove #autistic!steve harrington #he needs that deep compression real bad #fluff fic #I think Billy is a big ol softie and so does everyone else #it’s canon #I wrote it down #my writing #ficlet

[gonzodangerfeels]

She's like, come on I know you wanna see it...

you told me all of last fall

#I have to have piss as a reinforcement trigger #digging deep for an Okely #Dokely #there are clones everywhere #I want them all to fuck off #I mean she looked like a party when that school opemed #the eagle has worn her ass down though #you don't need to be told you're doing a good job.....let me guess the Indonesian chaplain going to africa or something saw you #this chick has got such a low tolerance for bullshit it's hilarious #how about I fuck you mind in an email #that email was legend by the way #me: esp #me: no dumbass like this #it's fine I understand...mine is off the charters but I was ignorant as fuck #too bad hon #probably another teeny wiener there *shrugs* #you had children.....why are you torturing everyone's view of your breadts by compression bras for real.....let em breathe #and yeah I had some dark thoughts that probably made her masturbate #sniff 26 huh #look she has been there a long time....I say lets give her some toots #gotta be cool because she's convinced herself she's a square #not like either if the people who raised you? #ever done 23 and me? #privacy concerns....honey the only thing private is the secret you still haven't figured out #a quarter of dad #. #I don't care #fucking dirty hippies hanging out looking for Hitler #have you heard of Florida man....he finds the ones that haven't ever been fucked and gives it to them #if a devil then I will use his magic too I don't give a fuck

[fizzyxcustard]

Knife's Edge

Currently on AO3 here

Fandom(s): The Hobbit crossover with Legend (1985)

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader & Darkness x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are living in Erebor. Thorin decides to admit his feelings to you after speaking with Dis, his sister and your best friend. However, you are having dreams of a creature from another world. He is becoming more powerful, trying to lure you into his world where you can be his Queen. When the lust and pull toward the creature become too much, you step into his world and meet Darkness. You have already promised yourself to Thorin. Will Darkness' seduction be enough to overthrow it all? Or will you still have enough strength inside you to follow your heart?

Warnings: Smut, graphic sexual themes, insecurity, anxiety, sex dreams, monster and human sexual encounters, violence, language, breeding kink mention, power/lust/greed themes.

(This fic is very sexually explicit and has a lot of lust/power/greed themes, while also working on the monster/human sexual references. If this is not to your liking then please do not read. You have been warned)

Comments: Currently on AO3 here / Part 2 is in the works.

Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from any tag lists.

The dreams had begun one night in the middle of winter, when the stone hallways of Erebor were bitter cold. And you woke in the witching hours, dripping in sweat, despite having wrapped yourself up tightly in the furs. The figure had visited you from the shadows, beckoning you to his palace in which all light had fled from. His voice stirred something from deep within your core, a need and a desire of which you have never felt before.

As you opened your eyes, the pulsing between your legs becoming duller, you reached for a glass of water which was beside your bed. Your hand fumbled around, almost knocking the candle off the wooden surface. Your breathing was still hitched, and your heart was racing.

The figure’s voice echoed in your mind, although his words seem to have become jumbled. All you could keep hold of was the feel of velvet and delectable pleasure which had raged through you upon hearing the voice.

***

At breakfast, which you shared with Dis, King Thorin’s younger sister, you were quiet. Her blue eyes searched for any hint as to if you were ill, or perhaps were in a melancholy mood. Humans had always been unusual beings, she thought. Not as forthright as Dwarves. But still, she loved you like family, welcoming you to Erebor when you had arrived after journeying with Thorin and his Company to re-claim the kingdom of Erebor. In fact, your very existence to everyone was a mystery. You had claimed to have come from a land only known as ‘Earth’, having appeared out on the road very suddenly.

“We have visitors from Dale this morning, and Thorin has asked we be present to welcome them,” Dis announced. Her eyes were still watching you, as you pushed a piece of bread around your plate, not having had the appetite to eat it, or any of the two boiled eggs that had been prepared for you.

Something about the dream had felt so real, and you couldn’t shake the way it had burrowed into your mind.

“Are you alright?” Dis asked, her voice sharp. “You are extremely distracted this morning. Are you ill?”

“No,” you said softly, straightening your back. “I’m sorry. I had a rough night; bad dreams and didn’t sleep well.”

***

Meanwhile, Thorin was sat in his private study. For the last week and all he had thought about was the question that he wished to raise with you. For most of the time that Thorin had known you, he had been in love with you. At first, he felt fear at the fact that his heart was yearning for one who was not of his race and from another world entirely. The idea that you were merely a novelty had crossed his mind early on, but had soon been discarded. The way his chest compressed when he saw you, and his stomach clenched, and all he could do was smile when your gaze reached him. That said it all. You were always in his thoughts. When Erebor had been close to attack from orcs at the Battle of Five Armies, and Thorin had succumb to madness, his mind was still focused on you. He wanted the gold so he could be worthy of you.

Thorin stood from his desk, straightened his robe and picked up his crown, placing it against his raven locks, which were touched with silver streaks. Even the crown upon his head didn’t feel enough for you.

A gentle knock at Thorin’s door broke him from his reverie. “Yes, come!” he called.

Dis slipped into the room and approached her brother, offering him a smile. She said your name and watched as Thorin’s head immediately turned to face her. “I’m worried about her. At breakfast she was quiet, too quiet. Her mind was away elsewhere, and while she denied being ill and blamed her mood on a bad night sleep, I’m not convinced. Have you spoken with her about your proposal?”

A doubt had snuck into Thorin’s heart at Dis’ words. “I wished to ask her to dinner tonight and pose the question, but to hear that she is like this, should I?”

“Maybe such a dinner will raise her spirits.”

Thorin sighed and closed his eyes.

“You doubt her love for you, don’t you?” Dis asked.

“How can I be so certain of it?”

“I see the way she looks as you, Thorin. There is no denying that.”

“I do not feel even this crown is enough for her,” Thorin said, his voice becoming tinged with pain and sadness.

Dis sat down on the opposite side of the desk. “You overcame the self-doubt of re-claiming Erebor from Smaug. How can you not overcome this? She is but one person…”

“Who holds my heart, Dis,” Thorin sighed. “I do not know if I could face rejection from her. If there is part of me that is cowardly, it is this. I would rather fight a thousand orcs than have to declare my love to her, only for it to be unrequited.”

***

Once the visitors from Dale had dispersed to the guest wing, you remained in your seat at the council table. The sight of Thorin had pulled you from the dreams. He raised the flutter in your stomach, the heat in your chest and a smile upon your lips.

Thorin glanced across at you and met your gaze. Breath caught in his throat at the sight of your smile, and he reciprocated that smile.

Dis smirked to herself from her seat beside you. In her mind, the two of you were complete idiots. The self-doubt was astounding, and it was the one thing that made you so alike, along with your loyalty and kindness. However, that was where your similarities ended.

One by one, everyone left the room, leaving only you and Thorin behind.

You got up, ready to leave, when he ushered you back. “May I have a moment with you?” he asked.

Thorin’s heart was pounding, but he was going to do this one way or the other. He would overcome the cowardice that was taking hold of him.

You stepped closer to him, and couldn’t help but smile again. He was incredibly handsome, and you had once dreamed of what his kiss would feel like, of what it would feel like to be one with him, and carry his child. This future you yearned for so ardently. But to be married to a king? It was a ridiculous notion.

“W…would you have dinner with me tonight?” Thorin asked.

This was the first time you had ever heard him stumble over his words. You could sense the uncertainty in his voice and posture. His blue eyes had now dropped to the floor. Reassurance was what he needed in those moments, to show him that you cared for him above everyone else. You took his hand in yours. “I would be honoured, my king,” you said.

Thorin’s gaze then locked with yours and he smiled, on the brink of a chuckle, as if relieved.

There were unsaid words lingering between you both, and the electricity was gathering momentum. Something had to break. “What troubles you?” you asked. On impulse, your free hand reached up and brushed a stray hair from his face. Your other hand was still in his.

“I…I have wanted you for so long,” Thorin whispered. His eyes were ablaze with fear and doubt. “You consume me.”

Sighing, you pressed your forehead to his. “I am not worthy of you, my king. I never was.”

Thorin reached up and removed the crown from his head, placing it down on the table, and then cupped your cheeks. His gaze sank into yours, and then the two of you kissed.

***

“I would raise you up!” the figure snarled from your peripheral vision.

It was the witching hour once more and your dreams had pulled you back to the palace of shadows. The voice now had audible words.

“I will raise you up as a queen!” the voice came again. “He will always treat you as being beneath him.”

You swept through the dark corridors, chasing the voice. The only light was a fire burning in the distance, beckoning you on.

“He took off his crown for you. I would give you a crown, my queen. I would give you the world to do with as you please. Come to me.”

Heat furled in your stomach, spreading outward, causing that pulsing to begin again at the juncture of your thighs. “Where are you?” you called.

You entered a room where the back wall was brightly lit by the fire burning opposite. A huge bed dominated the centre of the room, filled with furs and black velvet sheets. A musky and earthy scent filled the room, and immediately you sensed eyes watching you.

Fear gripped you, mingled with arousal. And suddenly you felt a hand rest on your shoulder and then move downward, ghosting over your breasts, which were now bare. Your whole body was naked, open to whoever this creature was. The hand had long, black claws and the skin was crimson. The creature’s touch caused intense heat to spark beneath your skin as it kept moving, towards your navel. Electricity was surging around you and the pulsing got more intense, making a deep groan to erupt from you.

“He will never let you ascend to the place you should be,” the voice came again. The creature’s breath was hot on your neck. You felt something wet and hot slip up your neck to the point at which your earlobe connected to your cheek. “That is not love. I would worship you as my queen and my mate. Give you everything you’ve ever wanted; give you power.”

Your eyes shot open and you gasped. Realisation hit you: you were in bed, in Erebor. Next to the bed, on your table, was a red rose which Thorin had left you. The red petals reminded you of the creature’s skin, and it made you shiver.

Since your kiss with Thorin after the council meeting, and you had had dinner with him. The two of you shared in your memories of the quest, laughing and holding hands across the table. Then Thorin had shared a glass of wine with you, his silver blue eyes gazing at you in adoration and disbelief that you felt the same way as he. The two of you had walked slowly down the hallway, with your arm curled around his. “Goodnight, my love,” he whispered to you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. A blush flourished on his cheeks as you moved away.

In all the time you had known Thorin and you had always been attracted to him; his voice, eyes, presence. Everything about him made your chest ache, and cause a yearning for a deeper connection. Your heart was frantically beating, wanting him.

And now you were sat upon the edge of your bed, thinking of the caresses of a creature of the shadows. Whenever you were in the company of Thorin, all memory of the creature disappeared. And now that you were thinking upon the creature, Thorin’s face had faded.

***

After you had dressed, a knock came to your door.

You walked to the door and as you opened it, a huge smile curled your lips upward at the sight of Thorin.

The king reached for you, twirling you around, as if dancing. “I have requested breakfast be brought for us,” he said softly, pulling you in close and winding his arm around your waist.

You leaned to him and kissed him, feeling him immediately respond. Your tongues met in a pent up frustration that the two of you had held at bay for many months. All you could feel was sheer joy, delight and love radiating from your chest.

Thorin’s hands cupped your cheeks, his fingers caressing downward towards your jaw, tickling your earlobes.

A sudden flash of memory shot into your mind. The creature’s tongue leaving a trail of wet heat down your neck. The flash of memory made you jump.

“Are you alright?” Thorin asked, his eyes growing concerned.

For the first time and the creature was breaking through into your time with Thorin, beckoning you into the shadows. “Yes, I’m sorry,” you replied, holding your head in shame and disgust.

Thorin rested his finger against your chin and lifted your gaze to meet his. “You are not alright, dear one. Dis told me yesterday that you had not slept well. What bothers you? All of your cares and worries are also mine.”

“You wouldn’t understand, Thorin,” you replied, stepping back from him.

“Why do you feel I would not?” he snapped.

You sighed and closed your eyes, knowing you had deeply offended him.

I will raise you up. I will give you power beyond your wildest imaginations. 

 The voice was so real, yet still felt distant. It curled around you, making that arousal snake its way down your spine and between your legs. Your breathing sped up and you sat back down on the edge of the bed. “I can’t,” you gasped.

Thorin’s eyes were dark in anger and rejection, your words hitting him square in the chest so painfully. “If you cannot bare your all to me as I would do for you, then…”

“Thorin,” you said again. “Please. Don’t put this between us.”

“No, you are putting it between us.”

You could see the pain and despair sitting in his eyes, making his shoulders droop in defeat. With a sigh, you began to speak again. “I’ve been having dreams. A demonic creature is somehow connected to me and won’t leave me alone.”

Thorin fell to his knee in front of you and cupped your cheek again. “My love? Look at me.”

You looked into those eyes you loved so dearly.

“The creature cannot hurt you,” he said. “I promise you that while I breathe, I will always protect you.”

Once your breakfast had arrived, you began to eat, temporarily forgetting the creature. Thorin was sat in a chair beside your bed as you remained on the edge of your bed. He watched you eat and as you ate the last mouthful, he reached into the inside pocket of his robe, pulling out a velvet pouch.

“I know that our customs are different, but I wish to indulge the Dwarf custom and ask for your hand in courtship, as is right. And with that, I offer you this ring,” he said, taking a gold ring from the velvet bag.

You looked at the bright gold band which was adorned with amethyst stones, seven of them forming a circle in the gold. “You remembered when I told you that purple is my favourite colour,” you whispered.

Thorin smiled, and that blush rose on his cheeks again. He reached for your hand and slipped the gold band onto your ring finger on your right hand, knowing the left would be kept for engagement and marriage, as was your custom.

***

Thorin wished you a goodnight, and as he did, he kissed your cheek. “If you have any unwelcome dreams again, my love, please come to my chambers.”

The two of you parted ways and you placed another red rose in a vase on your bedside table.

My queen. 

The voice swept around you again. This time it was more powerful, sounding as though it were in the room with you.

Sleep and come to me. 

 You lost all control and slipped away, all consciousness leaving you. But as your conscious mind drifted away, your body rose from the bed and stepped toward the full length mirror at the bottom of your bed. Your eyes remained closed, yet your body knew where to tread. The surface of the mirror looked like silver water, and with one step, you disappeared into it.

***

Were you awake or still dreaming? Everything around you was dark, with only the light from the end of a hallway. You blinked hard and sat up. Everything around you felt so real; the cold surface of the stone beneath your legs and the chatter that you could hear. Distant voices whispered.

She is here. Finally she is here. The Lord of Darkness has finally found his mate and one true queen. 

 Darkness? Was that his name? The red creature.

You got to your feet and looked around, everything still so dark. Your heart was thumping hard in your chest, in both fear and anticipation. The glow of light beckoned you down the hallway, just as it had in your dream.

As you reached the end of the hallway, you turned the corner and found yourself in a large room with a bed in the centre, and opposite was an open fire. Everything was as it was in your dream the night before. Even the black velvet sheets and furs on the bed.

Suddenly you sensed a presence behind you and for a few seconds you were glued to the spot in fear.

“My queen,” a voice came. That deep, velvet voice. Just the sound of it made liquid fire burn in your belly.

A hand brushed around your neck and that all too familiar scent of musk and earth hit your nose. Even his smell was beckoning you, pulling at your very core, that most primal part of you.

Slowly you turned, and there before you was a creature who towered above you. His skin was crimson, with bright yellow eyes gazing at you in lust and amusement. His face was pointed, with angular features. Huge, black horns grew from his head. His upper torso was muscular, being the body of a man. As your gaze slipped down, you saw that from his waist down was the body of what appeared to be a goat. His waist and legs were covered in black fur. Considering that his form was one that would normally make terror rise in those that looked upon it, you felt fascinated.

“You are not disappointed by what you see, my lady?” Darkness asked.

Your gaze finally met his, and you felt an intense shiver race down the entirety of your body.

Darkness reached for you and picked up your hand, placing it against his chest. It was red hot. He closed his eyes upon your touch. “I have yearned for touch for centuries.” His voice was on the edge of a groan.

You gasped at the feel of him and the pleasure which radiated from his voice. Your hand slipped up his chest, toward his neck. Suddenly Darkness grabbed your hips and lifted you, and on instinct, you locked your legs around his waist.

He walked with you to the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. And as he stopped, hovering above the bed, he took your lips against his. The kiss was hot, heavy, demanding. His long tongue caressed the inside of your mouth, beckoning you forth.

As you parted from the kiss, he chuckled at you. “I will give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Pleasure beyond anything you have ever felt, power, riches. Ask and it will be yours. Never would I keep a crown from you as he does. He would see you without that power.”

Thorin. His face was so far away again, and you shook your head, trying to bring his handsome face back to the forefront of your memory but he would not come. “He knows that I do not feel worthy of him.”

“You are worthy of everything,” Darkness snarled. He lowered you to the edge of the bed and then reached for two glasses which were on a nearby table, pouring two glasses of wine. “The Dwarf would happily keep you beneath him to maintain his own ego.”

“You don’t know Thorin like I do,” you shot back.

“He thinks he can buy you with jewels.”

“And you can buy me with promises of pleasure and power.”

Darkness growled, his eyes locked on your ring. “Remove that ring and be mine; I would love you, worship you.”

You sipped the wine, feeling your body begin to scream for him once again. The intensity of his need of you, and his desperation.

You rose to your feet, placed the glass down on the table and then approached Darkness who had seated himself on the edge of the bed. For a couple of seconds, you studied his face. It was somehow handsome to you, in a way that you couldn’t fathom. You slid into his lap, straddling him and kissed him again. Within seconds and he was sucking your neck, his hands caressing your breasts, and the tips of his claws brushing over the fabric of your clothing.

Darkness’ breath was rising, that animal side of him also breaking out. His hands ripped your clothes and flung them to the far side of the room. “I will make you feel things you have never felt before,” he moaned against you as you rose up onto your knees, still resting on his thighs. Your arms were tight around is neck. “Fuck you until you are numb.”

The words spurred you on and you kissed him again, hard and ferocious. He picked you up  in his muscular arms and slipped you around, lowering you to the bed so he was now in control.

Darkness kissed down your body, his long tongue sliding across your flesh. He could taste the first hints of sweat on you, and he revelled in the salty flavour. Your breasts, down your stomach and into the space between your thighs.

“I have never known someone so wanton,” Darkness grinned. “I can smell you. The intensity of it is enough to send me to the brink. And, even better, you are ovulating. I will keep going until you bear my child, no matter how long it takes. If I have to keep you locked in here for days, so be it. I may even call the goblins in to watch.”

The words made your whole head swarm with a haze of euphoria. The pulsing between your legs was so intense now that you locked your legs around his waist again, dragging him in closer.

Darkness laced his hand in yours and eased your ring from your finger. It fell to the stone floor and rolled away. “I will bring you so much more than he could!” Darkness chuckled.

***

Thorin had remained awake that night, unable to rest at the thought of you being haunted by the demon creature. All he could think of was holding you to his chest, fighting away all of those disturbing night visions.

He rose from his bed, pulling a robe on and began his walk down the main hallway toward your chamber. Torches lit his way and as he got to your room, he opened the door, knowing you would probably be asleep. However, as he trailed the darkness, following the gentle glow of the candle at your bedside, he saw you were nowhere to be seen.

Terror rose in his chest at the thought of you having disappeared from him. He gazed around the room, noticing a blue glow coming from the mirror at the end of your bed. The surface was moving, reminding him of liquid silver.

Thorin stepped towards the mirror, confused and shocked.

***

Your whole body was on fire and you writhed on the bed as Darkness’ hands roamed you. The tips of his claws gently scratched your breasts and stomach, drawing a loud groan from you.

“Give yourself to me and seal it, be my mate and queen,” Darkness said, his hot breath wafting across your belly.

You groaned again and arched off the bed, your body needing him.

Darkness may have held the rationale of humans, but he was more animal. That need to possess you and impregnate you was becoming unbearable, and the more you groaned and writhed, the closer he was to forcing himself upon you. His member had risen and was visible through his thick, black fur.

“Will you accept me?” he asked, his tongue licking your earlobe. The palm of his hand was cupping the mound at the juncture of your thighs, and his fingers tickled, circling the aroused flesh.

All you could do was groan again. Your hands were gripping the sheets so tight that it felt you were about to fall off the knife’s edge there and then, and completely succumb. An image flashed through your mind, a picture of you standing before a mirror, clothed entirely in black. Beneath your dress was a huge belly, showing your ability to conceive Darkness’ child. The reflection you only just recognised as yourself; your eyes were completely black, overtaken by evil and the desire for power. And there, behind your reflection, was Thorin. “My love?” he whispered, his voice cracking.

“THORIN!’ you screamed suddenly, jerking away from Darkness.

Darkness growled, his whole face turning livid. “Useless bitch!” he shouted. His hand swung outwards and slapped your face, knocking you off the bed.

Terror took over as you scrambled backwards, edging away from him as he circled the bed.

“You DARE raise a hand to her!” a voice came from the room’s entrance.

Your head snapped in the direction of the voice. It was Thorin. He must have been able to slip through the mirror and had followed the corridor.

Darkness chuckled. “I’m going to enjoy this, Dwarf. I’ll make her watch every single moment of me ripping your heart out of your chest. Then I’ll eat it in front of her.”

Thorin’s face remained darkened by anger and hatred towards this filthy beast before him. He looked down to you, and in those moments, the hatred melted as he smiled at you. “Leave when you can,” he told you. “Make for the corridor.” Then his silver blue eyes turned back to the demon who was slowly approaching him.

“You think you can defeat me?” Darkness laughed. “I have lived for millennia, feeding off the pain, hate and need for pleasures. I cannot think you believe I can be defeated so easily.”

Something touched your hand, a cold metal. It was your ring. You slipped it back onto your hand quickly, and as you did, your clothing magically returned to your body, appearing around you.

Thorin was defenceless, without a weapon. His eyes scanned the room, until Darkness was upon him.

A red hand reached out and grabbed Thorin by the throat, pushing him against the wall.

A shriek erupted from your mouth and you lunged at the two glasses on the table, smashing one against the floor. As quick as a flash, adrenaline pumping through you, you slashed at Darkness’ chest, you only just being able to reach. Then as he howled and turned, you aimed for his neck. Blood began to spurt out of the wound, making him drop Thorin to the ground. The creature continued howling, twisting in pain and anger.

Thorin grabbed your hand and the two of you began your race back through the corridor, hearing Darkness’ loud stamps behind you.

Terror gripped you in your chest and you continued running, both you and Thorin keeping at each other’s pace.

“I’ll kill the fucking pair of you!” Darkness howled.

At the end of the corridor was the same silver shine from the mirror, which had covered the entire wall. Without even thinking, the two of you jumped through, landing back on the stone floor of your chamber in Erebor.

Thorin dashed around and grabbed the edge of the mirror just as a red arm reached through. But the demon could not win. With a flash of blue light and an animalistic howl, the mirror was thrown to the floor and smashed.

Shards of mirror sprayed across the floor, spreading the entire width of the room.

You stood still, your heart pounding so hard in your chest and felt tears spill down your cheeks. Shame and guilt hit you so hard that you placed your hands on the edge of the bed and wretched, bringing back a mouthful of red wine mixed with bile.

Thorin heard your wretch and raced to your side, curling his arm around your waist. “My love…”

“Don’t,” you whispered. “Don’t call me that, please.” All you could do was weep, your shoulders juddering in your throes of anguish. “I’m sorry…” you sobbed. “I was so close to being taken from you forever. I know you’ll never forgive me.” You shifted away from Thorin. “Don’t touch me.”

He whispered your name. “Please…”

“I can’t.”

Thorin took your hand, his thumb rubbing across your knuckles. “I promised you that I would always protect you, and I will never stop. That beast attempted to seduce you, my love. The promise of pleasures and wealth can be easy to fall prey to. I know that all too well, yet you seem to forget that.”

“Thorin, don’t talk about that. What happened with the gold…”

“Was a seduction. Mine was of the mind and yours was of the body, but our hearts are what guides us. I heard you call my name, and it was you that called me back from the edge of being completely lost to madness.”

Tears still run down your cheeks and you turned away from Thorin, closing your eyes. You felt nothing but guilt and shame, dragging you down to the lowest you had ever felt. “I can’t do this. I can’t…”

Without another word, Thorin pulled you in to himself and kissed you. It was slow at first, warm and wanting, and then it became deeper. Your whole chest was now alight with such joy and delight; that was how you wanted to feel, not ashamed and at odds with your body. Kissing Thorin was where your whole body became synced and aligned. Your heart was beating with joy, your body was aroused by him, and your mind knew that this was true love.

“That’s how love feels,” you whispered. “It’s at the core of everything.”

Thorin pressed his brow to yours. “Forgive yourself, dear one. Let tonight pass from your memory, and in its place, we shall forge a new life together where our love and lust can exist in equal measure.”

“I cannot believe you can forgive me,” you said, kissing his temple. “I betrayed you physically.”

Thorin sighed. “My love, there have been stories told through time regarding the dark powers that can easily seduce the weakest willed of people. You fought that; this was no ordinary seduction. That beast had power. I could feel it as soon as I entered his domain. You said that he had been coming to you in dreams, beckoning you. Dream walkers have been spoke about for many years.”

“I hope he’s gone now, but I can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t the end. He’ll come for me again. He wanted me to give myself to him and even removed my ring.”

“Because that is a symbol of our love. Even without it, that love we share saved you.”

You brushed your fingers idly through Thorin’s hair. “You have no idea how beautiful you are,” you told him, feeling nothing but awe for him. “And to think that you want me as I want you.”

“Shh, come now,” Thorin cooed. He took your hand and pulled you up from the bedside. “I will have a bath drawn for us.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” you giggled.

“I wish to pamper you and surely there is no time limit on that.”

Thorin did as proposed and requested that a bath be drawn for you both. As the hot water poured into the tiled bath, fresh towels and soaps were brought to you both. Two serving girls smiled at you in amusement as they dashed back and forth, preparing everything.

By the time everything was ready, Thorin stepped across to you and stood behind you, kissing the base of your neck. “I can feel the tension in your shoulders, my love. Come and relax.”

You both disrobed, neither of you feeling an ounce of shame, considering this was the first time you had seen each other naked.

The bath was large with two steps that led down, it reminding you of a small swimming pool. Steam rose from the water and your first step in stung slightly as the hot water met your cool skin.

Thorin stepped in after you and you couldn’t help but keep your gaze locked on his broad shoulders. He was muscular, toned by years of activity from combat and working as a blacksmith. That also meant that he was littered with small scars. As you had imagined, he was well endowed, showing off quite an impressive girth.

For a second you thought back on your feelings that had been uncovered by your time with Darkness. Everything had been pure attraction and arousal, like molten lava coursing through you. But looking upon Thorin was different; every part of you was awakened. All of your body was ignited in your love for him.

He gazed at you, his silver blue depths bright with love and admiration. There was a contentment in his eyes that you had never seen before his revelation of love. Before that and he had always held sadness in his face. It had always been your belief that behind a lot of Thorin’s frustrations was sadness and hurt. You wanted to heal him.

The two of you embraced and then kissed. Thorin’s hands were slow to move, starting off in your hair and then moving down to your neck, your shoulders, breasts. There was no force or rush like there had been with Darkness.

Thorin washed you slowly, massaging the sponge covered in soap over the skin of your upper back. “You are quiet,” he said.

“I’m just enjoying your presence, and contemplating how you make me feel.”

“Oh? Do you wish to indulge me?”

You giggled. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes,” Thorin whispered to your ear.

You turned around to face him. “I want to give myself to you, now.”

“There is no rush, my love. Considering what you have been through tonight…”

“That doesn’t matter. I want you, Thorin. Every part of you. If you’ll let me have it.”

Thorin never answered and pressed his lips to yours hungrily, letting you know his answer. It would only ever be a resounding yes.

The two of you slipped out of the bath, drew towels around your waist and made your way back to your chamber. Once inside, you stood before Thorin and let your towel drop to the floor. He rushed at you again, drawing his hands up your cheeks and groaning at the impact.

You leaned back on the bed, him following you.

Thorin’s lips trailed down your body slowly, his beard tickling the hot skin. That arousal was surging again, only this time it was mingled with something far deeper: love. This time you wanted to bond with Thorin, connect with him in every way that was possible.

You felt his fingers delve into the curls at the juncture of your thighs and immediately you felt your inner core begin to want more, so much more. A groan escaped your lips and slowly Thorin’s fingers circled your sweet nub and then delved into your womanhood.

Thorin kissed your neck as he began a rhythmic movement inside you.

You clutched his shoulders, feeling the waves begin to ascend. That all too familiar sensation of wanting to get as high as you could to feel that powerful burst. His name fell off your lips, feeling so right and such an integral part of your soul.

“My love,” he whispered in your ear. He kissed down your cheek, wanting you to feel his love radiating through his hands to you.

“Stop,” you told him, pulling his hand away. “I want you.”

Thorin swallowed deeply and felt a sliver of arousal shoot down his spine upon your words. He’d imagined this so many times over the last few months, unable to let the fantasy go. The elation in his chest made him smile at you.

His smile was the most beautiful sight to behold. “I love you,” you told him.

You kissed again, and this time, Thorin took your hands in his while his member rested between your legs.

That intense pulsing was beckoning him in, wanting him to ride you towards heaven. You nudged yourself forwards, reassuring Thorin that this was all you wanted in those moments.

As you joined, you groaned into his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist. You remembered Darkness’ words about you ovulating. And as Thorin rocked against you, you saw a vision flash before your eyes. It was you in a wedding gown, with a circlet upon your head. The circlet matched the design of Thorin’s crown. Your gown was midnight blue, matching Thorin’s signature colour of choice. And there, beneath your resting hands, on your stomach, was a bump. This was the future you wanted, you needed, and which was destined.

You and Thorin continued your thrusts against each other, wanting to reach the pinnacle of physical pleasure together, and topple off hand in hand, hopefully creating that precious life you had just envisioned.

The waves of euphoria kept on building as Thorin maintained his rhythm, until the final wave crashed out, pouring heat and electricity outward from the pit of your stomach.

Thorin felt you shake and contract around him, and your moans of pleasure caused his peak to also come. He kept his lips against yours, groaning into the kiss.

Panting, the two of you embraced as Thorin withdrew from you.

Thorin didn’t have to keep reminding you of being a queen, you already knew that in your heart. All that mattered was you knowing that he loved you far more than anything else in his life.

***

The defeated Lord of Darkness sat upon his throne, a mirror in his hand. He had watched the whole spectacle unfold before his eyes; you had given yourself to the Dwarf King of Erebor, and there had been no persuasion on his part. Everything had been so freely given.

Darkness had already kicked one goblin across the room, as one gawked over his shoulder, enjoying the show inside the mirror. He enjoyed it so much that he had started masturbating behind the throne, hiding away so his master couldn’t see him.

“You cannot outrun me,” Darkness growled, watching as you and Thorin lay together in each other’s arms. “I can wait and when the times comes, I will strike again.

**

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @middleearthpixie @linasofia @xxbyimm @asgardianhobbit98 @knittastically @meganlpie @luna-xial @rachel1959 @quiall321 @mrsdurin @evenstaredits @missihart23 @lemond57 @glassgulls @catthefearless @aliasauthor @solairewisteria @littlebird-99 @court-jobi @heilith @absentmindeduniverse @albionscastle @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @bookworm-with-coffee @danzalladaggers @ourlonelymountain @phantomessangel @estethell @windb3ll

Thorin Oakenshield tag list: @braidedheart @emmyspov @dumbassunderthemountain @aloneinthebigempty @littlesweetdressmaker

Middle-earth tag list: @valkyrie-of-the-light @deadlymistletoe

The Hobbit: @flowerniche @kryshopes

#The Hobbit #Legend (1985) #Thorin Oakenshield #Thorin #Lord of Darkness #Richard Armitage #Tim Curry #Female Reader Insert #Reader Insert #Fanfiction #The Hobbit Fanfiction #Thorin Oakenshield Fanfiction #Thorin x you #thorin x fem!reader #thorin x reader #Thorin Oakenshield x you #Thorin Oakenshield x reader #thorin Oakenshield x fem!reader #Lord of Darkness x Reader #Lord of Darkness x Fem!Reader #Lord of Darkness x You #Darkness x You #Darkness x Fem!Reader #Darkness x Reader

[itsgrimeytime]

Home is Where the Heart is (Part One) || Farmer!Rick Grimes (TWD) x Teacher!GN!reader AU

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: Like Real People Do by Hozier.

Summary: Your life was spinning out of control, you knew that. After a string of particularly shattering events, you decided it was time to start anew. With a little help from one of your Grandma's rentals, you found yourself in the small town of Alexandria. The last thing you expected was your neighbor, Rick Grimes.

TWS: starting over, and identity crisis.

[[A/N: Thanks to @imaginemyfavoritefics for the name idea. The vibes of this are hallmark forward, so expect something rather cheesy. Thanks for reading!! ]]

You weren't running, you rationalized deep in your head -almost as if on instinct. You were an adult, you could deal with adult problems -like relationship issues, you just wanted to... you just needed a break. A breather even. Plus, they needed a teacher -it was practically destiny.

So, why did it feel like you were running?

You hadn't had a serious job in Atlanta, just an assistant, and as much as you loved those kids, you needed to do your job. When it felt like everything was going wrong in the world (and it was-), you still had teaching. It felt like what you were supposed to do, it was a reprieve from... everything else. So, even with a fresh start, you still needed teaching.

The transitions between cities bright against the landscape into more timid more rural areas was something you found somehow conflicting. You'd spent the last few years in the city, busy nights with a constant buzz of noise -cars honking, people talking, street performers... As it got quieter, there were fewer people on the road and the tall buildings turned into trees scrapping the sky; it was all a little surreal.

And it struck you then, you weren't scared -not really. Not scared to uproot everything and start over, it made you wonder bad it had gotten without you knowing.

"Okay," you hummed, turning down a sort of suburban road -houses every little bit, but much farther apart than the tight compression of a culdesac, "-1259, little white house-"

Your Grandma had called you at least 10 times ensuring you'd remembered the address -as if it wasn't written in your GPS. But as it turns out, back on these roads, just off what you assumed to be the town center, Google had no fucking clue where you were. So, perhaps you should thank her, actually.

"1259," you muttered, again -eyes focused out your passenger side, trying to see the addresses, "-little white house-"

And then, someone tapped on your driver's window.

"'Ay, ya need somethin'?"

You spun around in your driver's seat quickly, matching a man's -tall, brunette, brown-eyed. He wore some assortment of a leather vest and seemed to have been busy prior -you could see the dirt dusted under his fingernails and staining his jeans. The second thing you noticed was his tone wasn't friendly.

Maybe he thought you were nosing around in something you shouldn't.

"I, uh, yeah-" you rolled down your window, -briefly wondering how long it had been since you met somebody new, "-I'm trying to get to 1259? It's a uh, little white-"

"No, no," he echoed -interrupting you, less confrontational, "-I kno' the place, got a friend 'at lives near ya. Just follow me."

And without another word, he waltzed off in front of you -focusing succinctly on a motorcycle. An old one, by the looks of it, well-maintained though -maybe there's an auto shop around here?

The purr of the engine was loud, even through your rolled-up windows. Something in you had expected heads to pop out of windows -words yelled, so when they didn't... you assumed he was a regular here.

Cranking your car, you slowly cruised to follow him. He seemed to be attentive to you being behind him -driving slow when you were certain it had seen far faster speeds. Maybe even earlier today actually-

You appreciated it, nonetheless.

It was a short journey, a few more turns, and a little bit more driving down roads aimlessly. All things considered though, you were very close to the center of town -where everything was sold and the only stores miles in any direction resided. So, you could work with it.

That being said, where the house was wasn't exactly suburban. There weren't pristine sidewalks and crosswalks, or only little patches of grass here and there. You had a yard -a flourishing yard with trees and flowers and just... open space.

The neighbors were close enough that you could see the house -a surprising sort of light blue paneling, but you could definitely see that their fence far surpassed your own. Their yard seemed almost to last forever, you could even see a barn far back from the back of the house -red, yes, but very worn by the weather, and if you truly listened you could actually hear the shuffle of some livestock.

Okay, so next door to a farm, you told yourself -lightly, -totally can do this.

Without another thought the man pulled off to the side in front of you -making way for you to pull into the driveway. A smooth sort of ease on the bike that made you assume he had years of practice. He certainly looked the part.

You got out of your car, roaming close to him at a comfortable distance (for him or you weren't sure). He didn't seem the type to want strangers close, but then again you weren't really, either.

"Thank you," you started, kind of awkwardly but you were meeting someone new so you let it slide -tone taking a casual sort of amusement, "-I appreciate the help. I know I would've been out there for hours if-"

"Don't sweat it," he echoed -kind of coldly but you didn't know him well enough to assume he meant it that way, "-anythin' else?"

"Uh," you started, "-the Elementary? It's back by the center, right?"

"Yep, can't miss it," he answered, shortly, "-if ya need anythin' else, I'm only a few houses down. Otherwise, people 'round 'ere are pretty friendly."

You smiled -at your very first success, "Okay, thank you, really... uh...?"

"Daryl," he puffed out -making no effort to move from his motorcycle, "-Daryl Dixon."

"Y/N," you offered back, "-Y/N Y/L/N."

And without another word -only a single swift nod of his head, he was gone. It was such a quick exchange that you almost thought for a moment you dreamed it -that you'd somehow gotten the memo of where the house was and he didn't exist at all. Which, to be fair, at the rate your brain was firing could definitely be plausible. You were a mix of something between relentlessly tired from the drive, and insanely stressed because well... You'd just up and moved your whole life for good reason, but still.

"Everythin' alright?"

You blinked and were met with yet another unknown face. Not that you expected to know anyone here -other than maybe a few faces your Grandma had stories of. But this man... you would've known him.

Tall with a head of brunette curls matted in a sort of dirt -the same dusted across his shoulders, you guessed, and encrusted into his fingernails. His eyes were a sort of blue that you considered people write poems about and along his tan jaw was a big bushy beard -something about it was untamed. Like he hadn't cared to brush through it that morning, or maybe just hadn't cared for it for a while. Still, somehow he looked good. Handsome, even.

"Oh, yeah, sorry-" you started -trying to calm the flush of him just waiting while you downright ogled him, "-I just, I got some help finding my new place. Kind of zoned out there, but I'm... I'm fine, really."

He raised an eyebrow, intently, "Ya sure?"

"Yeah, yeah," you softened slightly at the concern his tone held -something in you aching in realizing you hadn’t been concerned over in so long, "-just tired. 'Been a long drive."

"Where'd ya drive from?"

"Atlanta," you answered -far easier than you intended to (there was just something about him-).

"A very long drive," he chuckled -low timber of his voice rattling through your bones (something in you stiffened -not again), "-ya need any help with anythin'? I got some free hands."

"If you're not busy," you countered -exhaustion a distant rattle in the back of your body, ever present.

"Nah," he reassured, blue eyes flickering over you, "-I got stuff 'at can wait. If you don't mind waitin' a minute, I can get my son to help too."

"Well..." you responded, slow and awkward, "-thank you."

"No, really," he echoed, "-ain't a problem. I'm Rick, by the way, Rick Grimes."

You smiled, maybe a bit less of a polite one and more genuine then, "Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N. Do you... Do you live around here?"

Rick laughed -a sort of deep chuckle that mostly felt warm in tone as he roamed towards some of the boxes, "Yeah, I'm uh... I'm actually y'er neighbor."

"Oh," you echoed out, as he seamlessly picked up three -like it was as light as a feather, "-really?"

"Yea'-" he spoke, hoisting up the boxes slightly and you suddenly realized just how snug his t-shirt was, "-blue house, big farm-"

And despite the flatline of your brain then, you still managed to remember the large plot of land right next to yours. The beautiful blue house was his, of course it was-

Handsome, strong, probably married neighbor, you tsked yourself -remembering the mention of a son, -totally can handle this. Totally cool with this.

This trip wasn't to ogle neighbors, it was to care for yourself and start fresh, and further your career-

"You okay?"

"What?" You startled in place, merely jumping actually, "-oh, yeah, just... a lot to do. And even more tomorrow."

He tilted his head slightly, eyes sweeping over you -like he couldn't read you, "Take it day by day, 'sure it'll all work out."

Correction. Handsome, strong, caring, probably married neighbor, you ran through your head -words anything but at your leisure.

God, you were so fucked.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot #home is where the heart is #rick grimes x gn!reader

[jannythewriter-pt2]

Collage Feels Pt.3

It’s the week after the party and you and Connie have been texting for a minute, both liking when the other text first, but of course Connie texted first. At this moment, you were getting ready for Connie to come over to your dorm so he could help you with one of your stupid class assignments 😟.

Right now you’re in the shower and you hear your phone buzz…it’s from Connie. “Hey I’ll be there in 5” the text said, you replied with a simple “ok, I’m so excited” and finished your shower. You got out and put on an oversized shirt, your silk black bonnet and some short shorts. You touched up in the mirror, applying one more coat of lipgloss and a spray of strawberry pound cake perfume and just then you heard a Knock at your door. “He’s mf’n here” you said in your head nervously.

You open the door and GAH DAMN Connie was looking so mf’n fine 😫. He was wearing a black under armour compression shirt with gray sweatpants, black cats, an iced out Cuban link chain, and you could see the waist band of his underwear and you could see his print. (And y’all that dick was dickin 😫) You were staring hard and he caught onto this, “you see sum you like ma” he says in a flirtatious tone “nigga get in here” you say in a sarcastic tone.

“Your dorm is nice asf, and it smells like vanilla in here” he says admirably. “Thank you hun, I like keeping a clean space, making sure my shit is mf’n organized cause don’t nobody want a nasty ass bitch” I said with confidence. “Nah cause you’re right about that shit” Connie said laughing as he put his Luis Vitton bag down on the floor. “Sophia what you need help on ma” he said in his deep voice, “I can’t figure out the formula for this equation” I show Connie the problems. “Yeh we’re gonna be here for a mf’n while” Connie says defeated.

It’s been 2 hours and you finally finished your work and you actually get what’s going on. “I should prolly go, ik you got other things you gotta do so imma get out of your hair” Connie said “Nah nigga you ain’t going nowhere. I did not just call you over to help me with my work. We finna order takeout and watch Baddies tf” you said pissed off that this mf was thinking you just wanted him for help and that’s it.

“Deadass, like fr?!” Connie says surprised, “Yes Connie I’m not that typa girl who’s just gon use you for her benefit, know that” this makes Connie smile to himself, he’s never met any girl who doesn’t just want to use him for his smarts, or who doesn’t want to fuck him, your different. “What you wanna eat ma?” Connie ask and you say “Def Chinese, I want orange chicken and white rice” “aight I’ll put the order in” Connie says “I’ll go get my ca-“ your cut off when Connie says “fuck no, sit yo pretty ass down somewhere, I’m paying ma” this makes you feel hot and bothered, this more dominant side of him, the sexy side of him…. “ o-ok” you stutter out shook.

It was a few hours later and y’all were watching baddies, and Connie was being real cuddly, not only that but he was being a lil…..touchy. “Please ma just come here, I wanna hold you, I promise I’ll take you out just come here” in your head your so nervous to make a move, but you a bad bitch so you do your big one. “Fine Constance” you take the blanket off of you and instead of cuddling up to him, you do something unexpected to Connie, you climb on his lap, wrap your arms around his neck, and you sat there, looking into his hazel eyes. You notice a slight pink dusted over his cheeks. “I ain’t even gon lie, your to fine for me to leave you without making you mine” Connie said quietly “you gon treat me right baby?” You said in a serious tone, “I promise ma, I promise” Connie says sincerely “ok pa, I’ll give you a chance”

Yall the next part gon be a lil bit of smutt 😫

#connie x black reader #fem black reader #aot x black reader #iikatsukii #Spotify

[codenamesazanka]

opinion on how deku is being thrown into shigaraki’s memories ?

I've said it before, but to sum it up: Lazy writing. Instead of making Deku work or even talk to discover what happened, it's being handed to him.

Also backing what @itsnothingofinterest said in this post:

I worry this could go beyond just “viewing” memories. It’s also possible Deku could start influencing Shigaraki’s recollection of events to make him more agreeable (for example, I saw someone suggest this could end with Deku saving Tenko from under the bridge instead of AFO) and I wouldn’t be a fan of that. Didn’t like when 2 out of 3 of our last League conflicts relied on mentally impairing them & I wouldn’t like it any more if it was how Deku resolved the conflict here.

But fine, whatever. He'll see the memories. He'll learn Shigaraki's damage. It's what he wanted; it's what he needs.

Thanks for the ask!

I call this lazy writing because

What we should’ve had was Deku and the UA students having to work and investigate and just talk and truly come to understand the Villains and why they are the way they are, the root causes and the bad days where they received no helped and all the tiny things that built up and led to the breaking point.

For Deku specifically, we spent all of Edgy Deku arc literally doing fuck all about ‘learn what makes Shigaraki tick deep down’ (Chapter 308), which is such a waste of an opportunity to explore—anything at all. Being cold and hungry and tired and alone, being feared and rumored to be a monster - would that make Deku reflect on a villain’s circumstances? lmao. Did he confront All Might and Gran Torino about the Shimura family, which might offer a clue? lmao. Did he request to talk to Mr. Compress, League Member and Shigaraki's Ally? lmao. The story skips over anything that might mean real effort to learn about Shigaraki, or would cause reflection.

What are we left with for Deku to discover why Shigaraki seems to be in pain? Forcing a Memory Transfer. Practically the only option left.

I know people will argue that that’s just how OFA/AFO works, it has always been hinted at, it's a good thing that Deku will finally understand what Shigaraki has been through. But it feels so unearned. He wants to save Shigaraki, he wants to learn about Shigaraki -> he doesn't do any work that contributes to this, instead he happens upon it via surprise psychic link.

If I was being generous, I might allow that he’s being rewarded on having faith in Shigaraki’s inner goodness… but that also isn't working because his faith has never been seriously challenged, unless you count Nana and Gran Torino giving their one (1) doomerism line and Shigaraki provoking him. There was Bakugou's 'death' that ShigAFO caused... but Mirio was able to immediately calm Deku down and then Bakugou came back alive before Deku began trying to pry open the lid so. net zero loss/gain there.

(I also feel like, if the memories should be handed to him like this, it should've been done earlier, and turned into an extra burden of a different sort? Deku's got all these memories, this sympathy—but everyone around him tells him, so what? Shigaraki has suffered, but so have other people. He has suffered, but now he creates suffering. His memories are irrelevant to the fact that he needs to be defeated; his memories will be useful in rebuilding society after the war, but Shigaraki himself is beyond saving. And Deku should've had to reckon with that.)

And if it's not lazy writing—

Shigaraki said those words about "the destruction of everything stemming from that house" in Chapter 379. It is now 416. The Shigaraki-Deku fight doesn't start properly until 410, fine—but through the past six chapters, Deku literally had to be psychically-physically in front of the damn house in order to reflect on Shigaraki's words.

This is because Deku refuses to talk and have a proper conversation with Shigaraki. Ever since the end of Jaku, Deku gets one glimpse of the Crying Child and knows Something Is Wrong, but because Shigaraki declines to just explain the rest of it to him, Deku doesn't ask.

(If you look at his previous 'saves', we can see no wonder - Deku gets the tragic backstories told to him. Todoroki straight up just reveals his family’s dark secret. Mandalay was able to explain what Kouta’s issue was, literally telling Deku ‘he’s not being raised normally, he’s an orphan with dead hero parents’. The full extent of Eri’s abuse is revealed via official Hero investigation and deductions about Overhaul’s operations - which I like best because it flowed more naturally, with the horror element dawning on the characters. Deku learns not from Hawks about the crimes of the HPSC, it's only because Nagant herself exposed it to him. The Aoyama reveal is largely by Hagakure/accident/carelessness on his parents’ part.

I think Gentle is the only guy he sympathize with without knowing the full extent of his backstory?)

Does Deku, now unable to "ignore what he saw," ask Shigaraki "Hey, what do you mean by 'that house'?" Does he actually ask out loud, "Shigaraki! Why can't you let go of that lonely past?" Does he ever go, "Hey, I saw you and you were so sad. Why? And what happened to that dog?"

No. Deku makes statements about saving Shigaraki, about wanting to save that Crying Child, about how Shigaraki is a person, but all those are cool one-liners, and they feel barely even directed at Shigaraki himself.

Remember how in Chapter 360, Mirio asks ShigAFO why he destroys, and he gets an answer? Remember how Mirio engaged with ShigAFO, and that led to Tenko surfacing to angrily retort he does have friends? Asking questions has proven to have an effect!

And you can't say "Shigaraki is refusing to open up," when Shigaraki has been so chatty. You also can't just dismiss this by theoretically saying "Shigaraki would never open up, it's pointless to try, it's a guaranteed failure," when Deku literally hasn't tried, cross it off the list before moving on. Deku is just not engaging with the guy in front of him, but rather just looking for the Crying Child, and at best that's him being the world's most incurious guy, and at worst being a condescending ass.

#anon #anonymous #asked #ask #answered #bnha spoilers #spoilers #Chapter 416 #nalslastworkingbraincell

[deanstead]

Trauma Memory

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: no

Summary: When a trauma memory hits you in the middle of the night, Jay is there to make sure you know you’re safe

Word Count: 937

Warnings: overall mature theme but nothing graphic. allusions to past sexual abuse/molestation, trauma, nightmares

A/N: Please note the warnings for potential triggers. I wrote this a week ago because I needed to get this out of my system and I was not exactly planning to let it see the light of day but @halsteadlover threatened to beat my ass so...

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

Your eyes snapped open, the remnants of the dream still lingering. It wasn’t so much a dream as it was a memory.

You glanced over at Jay who was snoring gently next to you and you quietly climbed out of bed, fully aware that you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep just yet.

Resisting the very real urge to take a shower, you reminded yourself that it was just a dream, that it was just a dark memory that you’d left behind. Far behind.

At least that’s what you thought.

This almost felt like one of those anxiety dreams you occasionally had, where everything felt so real for a moment that you weren’t sure what was real and what wasn’t.

You took a sip of water from the glass in your hand, closing your eyes. You could still feel the touch that made your skin crawl, the feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach, as your intestines felt like they were twisting in knots all on their own as you knew what was coming.

“Babe?”

You jumped, whipping your head in his direction, the glass crashing onto the floor.

“Woah. Y/N, it’s me.” Jay put his hands out in front of him. “Don’t move alright? I’ll take care of this.”

Jay headed back around to the other side of the kitchen island counter, guiding you out of the kitchen from the other way so he could clean up the stupid mess you’d made in the middle of the night.

“Couch.” Jay said quietly, giving you a small smile. “I’ll take care of this and I’ll be right there.”

You studied Jay for another second before you exhaled and nodded.

By the time Jay had finished clearing up and joined you on the couch, you were feeling extremely stupid.

Jay didn’t say anything as you felt the couch compress next to you when he climbed in next to you. You glanced at him and he touched your head gently, almost like he was testing the waters, before he slipped his arm under your head, wrapping you gently into him.

You leaned your head onto him, exhaling gently as he gently rested his hand on the back of your head.

“Bad night?” Jay asked quietly after a while and you felt the rumble of his chest as he spoke.

You didn’t answer his question directly, merely curling tighter against him.

Jay let out a breath. “You should have woken me.”

You shook your head slowly. “I couldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t.” Jay said, his voice still soft, his arm curling protectively around you now.

You smiled against his shoulder, the dream finally feeling like it was fading away. “Sorry.” You whispered. “You have an early day tomorrow.”

You felt Jay exhale. “You want to talk about it?”

You didn’t answer him immediately. Yes, you wanted to talk about it. But also no, because you were afraid of dredging it all back up again. You angled your head up to look at him.

Jay just looked back down at you with a small encouraging smile, reaching for your hand with his other one and taking it gently. “It’s okay, I'm right here.”

You took a deep breath. “It’s a memory, I tucked it away, I forgot about it or I tried to.” You curled up against Jay as you told him about your stepbrother, about the curl in your stomach when you realized there was nothing brotherly about the way he touched you or pressed up against you.

Jay was silent even after you finished talking and instinctively you tugged away, feeling the familiar sense of shame wash over you. "He didn't... he never went... but I still..." Your voice trailed off, anything you said sounded like some form of feeble justification of why you had let this happen to you.

But Jay was having none of it, pressing your head gently back against his chest, his arms tightening around you as the remnants of your tears seeped back into the light shirt he’d thrown on earlier.

“I’m sorry.” Jay whispered. “But none of this is your fault and you’re safe with me now. And if he ever comes near you again, I’ll rip his throat out myself.”

You smiled as the wave of security returned, washing over the insecurity that had wormed its way into your heart just seconds ago. “I know.” You whispered back.

“Y/N, you could have told me. If I ever pushed you too hard, or made you feel…”

You reached up to cover his mouth gently. “Never.”

Jay blinked back down at you.

“Never, Jay. You… you’ve never made me feel anything but safe.” You whispered. “Don’t you ever compare yourself to…”

You swallowed, closing your eyes for a second before you looked back at him again. “It’s not…”

“I know, I know, baby.” Jay nodded, pulling you towards him once again, his arms wrapping around you tightly. You felt Jay’s warmth edge out the darkness of the past you’d been trying to run from all this time and you sighed.

As you drifted back off to sleep while cuddled up against Jay on the couch, Jay pressed a kiss gently to the side of your head. “You’ll be safe with me.”

“I love you.” You whispered, even through the fog of sleepiness that now engulfed you, but you weren’t afraid to drift off anymore.

Jay leaned his head against yours, his arms tight around you as he closed his eyes as well, both of you curled up tightly together on the couch, like you were meant to be.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

Character taglists are open!

#resa.fics #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead oneshot #jay halstead fic #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x y/n #chicago pd #tw: molestation #tw: nightmares

[russosafehaven]

[ support - b.r ]

pairing : billy russo x reader

content : reader with chronic pain , chronically ill reader , neurodivergent reader , fluff

br taglist : @snowkestrel @judig92 @k-marzolf

~

When Billy walked into his bedroom he didn’t expect to see you hunched over in the bed furiously scribbling in a notebook. At first he didn’t question it, maybe you just needed to ramble. Then he saw what you were writing. A list of your symptoms and what they could correlate to.

“That bad huh?”

Sultry, deep and smooth. That’s three words you’d choose to describe Billy’s voice. It was one of your favourite sounds.

“Knees and ankles are being a bitch, just wish medical gaslighting wasn’t real”

You huff as Billy starts getting undressed. Slowly unbuttoning his shirt and making a show of it. Shaking your head softly you crawled over to him, nipping at his abdomen.

“Hey!”

His hand came down on you gently. Swatting you like a bug.

“Want your braces or the compressions?”

Billy asks as he turns to the drawer where you keep all your supports. He turns to look at you, holding a pair of braces and compressions.

“Would it be okay to have both?”

At this he smiles and walks over to you. Helping you pull the compressions up before doing the velcro up.

“Always baby..”

#billy russo x reader #billy russo #billy russo imagine #ben barnes #the punisher imagine #x reader #billy russo fluff #the punisher #billy russo x yn

[bratzforchris]

can you write something where luke has pots?

You'll Be Okay

❃

Summary: Luke has POTS, but with Ashton's help, there's nothing he can't conquer

Pairing: Lashton-centric

Warnings: Fainting, blood

Word Count: 1049

A/N: Thank you for the request! Also, for this work, Luke and Ashton are in a queer-platonic relationship (QPR). I do not ship 5sos in real life in any way.

❃

“Ash?” Luke asked quietly, poking his head into the “mancave” section of the bus. 

“Hey Lu!” Ashton smiled happily, looking up from his book. “What’s up?”

“Can you, um, help me shower?” the blond asked, looking down at his feet as he stood one on top of the other. 

To anyone else, it would sound a bit creepy, but to Luke and his bandmates, it was totally normal. You see, Luke had POTS, which made him prone to fainting, especially in warmer areas, like the shower. The boys figured it was better to have a little embarrassment with needing help showering than for Luke to faint and possibly get seriously hurt. 

“Of course, man. Come on, bud.”

Luke trudged towards the bus bathroom sadly. He absolutely hated showering because it made him feel lightheaded and sick, but he knew it needed to be done. He’d been putting it off for a few days now, and by this point, his hair was beyond greasy. The blond turned on the shower before sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, trying to take deep breaths. 

“Don't worry, bud. I’ll be right here the whole time. Just get in and wash your hair and your body then you can get out. You can shave at the sink.” Ashton said gently. 

They really would’ve preferred for Luke to have a shower seat like he did at home, but u fortunately, the bus’ shower was way too small for that. The honey-blond slowly helped Luke undress, letting the lanky boy hold onto his shoulders so he didn’t get dizzy. Ashton felt his heart break as he heard Luke take a shaky breath as he stepped into the shower. 

“You okay, Luke?” Ashton asked. 

“Mhm,” Luke mumbled as he began to run the loofah over his body. “Just anxious.”

“That’s okay, buddy. Just take your time and sit down as needed.” 

It all happened so quickly. One moment, Luke was shampooing his hair and getting ready to get out, and the next, Ashton heard a large bump in the shower. The older male immediately sprung into action, turning off the water and pulling the shower curtain back. 

Luke had fainted. It wasn’t a rare occurrence for the blond, but it scared him and Ashton every time. He whimpered, hand immediately going to his head. “My head…” he whimpered. “I hit it.”

“Oh bubba,” Ash cooed softly. “I know, sweetie. Sit up slowly so you don’t get lightheaded.”

Luke went to do as told until he pulled his hand back from his curls and saw blood. “Ash! I’m bleeding!” he said worriedly, tears pooling in his eyes. 

“Shhh, you’re okay, Lu. Let’s not panic, buddy.” Ash said comfortingly. 

The older male slowly helped Luke sit up and began to observe his wound. It was bad, but not so much that they needed to go to the ER. It was just bleeding lots because it was a head wound. 

“It’s not too bad, Luke. It’ll probably be sore, but you won’t need stitches.” 

Luke tried to smile at that, but he just felt so terrible. Ashton was a great nurse and wonderful at comforting. He slowly turned on the handheld shower sprayer and began to rinse down Luke’s blood that was pooling in the tub, followed by the shampoo and blood out of his hair. 

“Just sit there, baby. I’m gonna get a washcloth to use as a compress on your head.” Ashton instructed. 

Luke barely nodded, leaning up against the walls of the shower. He felt absolutely awful. The blond shakily put a hand to his chest, feeling the pain in his chest and his heart palpitations. On top of all his other symptoms, he had a bit of a headache and felt rather nauseous. Not to mention the pain from where he fell and hit his head. 

Ashton came back with the cool washcloth and began to hold it to Luke’s wound, looking down to keep an eye on the younger boy. “Still with me, Luke?”

Luke made a hum of approval, leaning into Ashton’s touch. “‘M tired.”

“I know, bubba. Your head has stopped bleeding,” Ashton smiled. “Whenever you’re ready we can get you out and into some warm clothes and in bed.” 

“I wanna get out.” Luke was on the verge of tears, a mixture of pain and the embarrassment of sitting naked in the tub with his best friend standing over him. 

“Okay, lovely. Grab the rail and I’ll help you stand up.” Ashton instructed. 

Luke shakily grabbed the shower rail, trying to take deep breaths. “You-you’ll hold me, right?”

Ash nodded, grabbing Luke’s hand. “Stand up slowly, bubba. Take all the time you need.”

Luke stood up quite slowly, but whimpered all the same. “Heart’s beatin’ fast.”

“I know, Lukey, I know. Take some deep breaths.”

The blond did as Ashton said, steadying himself against the wall and breathing slowly with his eyes closed. Ash felt beyond bad for the younger boy. He hated seeing Luke in pain every day because of this condition. 

“I’m ready now.” Luke whispered. 

The older male slowly helped Luke step out of the shower and towel off. By the time Ashton had gotten him dried off and into his pajamas, Luke was practically asleep against Ashton’s shoulder. 

“Let’s go lay down, buddy. You need a lot of rest.” he whispered in Luke’s ear. 

“Carry me?” Luke mumbled, eyes closed as he laid his head on Ash’s muscular shoulder. 

“Oh, fine,” Ashton fake-huffed, hoisting Luke up under his bum and onto his hip (perks of being a drummer!). “You big baby.”

Luke giggled softly, breathing in his friend’s familiar scent. “You love me.”

“I do,” Ashton said, placing Luke down on his bunk and tucking him in. “I’m gonna go grab you some water and a snack, okay? You just lay here and rest.”

The blond nodded, snuggling into his pillow. “Mhm.”

By the time Ashton returned to the bunk area with a granola bar and a bottle of water, Luke was fast asleep, snuggled under the covers and clutching his stuffed animal to his chest. He figured he’d let it slide for now, knowing Luke needed the rest. And so, he gave the blond a kiss on the forehead and then snuggled up beside him. 

#luke hemmings #lashton #luke hemmings fanfic #ashton irwin fanfic #lashton fanfic #fanfic #calum hood #5 seconds of summer #michael clifford #5sos #5sos fic #luke 5sos #5sos fanfic #calum 5sos #5sos imagine #5sos moodboard #5sos blurb #5sos hq #5sosfam #ashton 5sos #michael 5sos #the 5sos show tour #pots #pots syndrome #chronic illness #chronically ill #chronic illness fic #ashton irwin

[phantomtgm]

Phantom - Chapter Nine

Phantom’s P.O.V

Today’s training was super intense and after that fiasco before I went up in the plane had left me in a daze. I walked back to the classroom because I wanted to read more about the mission and what it was going to entail. There was only so much they could verbally teach us about so I took it upon myself to learn more about it.  

Walking towards the white board, I looked at what the plan was. We were supposed to destroy the uranium enrichment plant but it looked like it sat deep in the canyon. 

I traced the route with my finger, the path going beneath radar then over a mountain and shooting at the target. 

That wasn’t the hard part. It was the getting out that was the most concerning. Leaving the canyon, we were supposed to climb a steep ass hill without getting shot down by the enemy. That climb out of there was going to be bad and one of the reasons why we were having to practice holding all of those G’s. 

Our bodies would feel like there was an elephant sitting on our chest, compressing our lungs. I think maybe that was why they were training us to figure out who would be the ones to be able to handle that. 

Who was going to be the mission leader this time? I figured it was going to be Maverick considering he has real world experience in this. Surely they wouldn’t let Hangman be the mission leader. That would be horrendous considering he has a reputation of leaving people hanging in the air. 

This was a very daunting mission, one where someone may not be coming back from. I sighed as I walked away from the board and sat down to look out the window. I could see all of the jets from here and I questioned my ability to even do this mission. 

I wanted to be picked to do this mission but after that stunt I pulled, I don’t know if I would be a part of it. I knew what I did was dangerous and yet I did it anyway. Putting Omaha’s life in danger like that wasn’t good even though just flying those jets was dangerous. Still, I shouldn’t have done it.

The more I thought about it, the more I thought that I had deserved to be yelled at like Maverick did. 

I probably spent my last chance at this mission doing that stupid maneuver so I was just going to have to accept I wasn’t going to be picked for the mission. Thinking about this so hard was going to give me a headache so I tried to switch to something else and that was my father. 

I needed to go see him. 

Even the thought of that put me in a sad mood given his health situation. Then that thought led me to Maverick. Didn’t he know that my father was sick again? I guess after being shipped off to Bosnia will alienate you from your friends and family. 

I probably should head out soon but it was relaxing sitting here listening to the other pilots that train here take off in their F-18’s. I sat back and smiled. I couldn’t imagine not being able to do this. It was extraordinary.

*Bang

I jumped out of the seat I was in and turned around to see the door opening with Maverick strutting inside.

Of course it was Maverick. Who else would it have been? The sudden urge to flee the room pulsated through my body but…that would be me being a coward and I refused to do that.

Apparently Maverick knew what I was thinking because he raised his eyebrow in a cautionary way and held up his hand. “Before…you leave, I want to talk to you about the other day.” Immediately, I felt defensive and I stood up, looking him directly in the eye. 

“Why? So you can yell at me again?” The sass in my voice was real. A moment passed before he spoke again. He seemed to be contemplating what to say next. 

“I didn’t come here to yell, Ava. I just wanted to talk to you about the dangers of what you did, that’s all.” I crossed my arms and said “I know what I did was dangerous, you don’t need to reprimand me.”

“If you know then why did you do it?” Frustration began to rise out of me and I couldn’t control it. I began pacing the room, not even bothering to look at him anymore. 

“Why does it matter to you Maverick? I mean seriously! Why do you care so much about it? I won’t do it again.” 

He walked closer to me and his scent invaded my space once again making my head swirl. “Ava-” I cut him off, not wanting to hear it. 

“You don’t get on to anyone else for doing stupid shit so why me and why now? You haven’t been around for years and now all of a sudden you want to act like you care?”  I could tell that stumped him because the response I got was a shocked and hurt look on his face. 

My intention wasn’t to hurt him but I mean seriously. I wanted to find out what his deal was so I stood there and watched as he opened and closed his mouth. He didn’t know what to say which was typical so I just scoffed and attempted to walk by him to leave but he grabbed my arm gently and I stayed put where I was. 

“You don’t understand.” I watched as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down causing my heart to wrench. 

“What don’t I understand?” I said softly. 

Another moment of silence passed and I came to the conclusion that he wasn’t capable of being honest with me so I took his arm off of mine and walked out of the room on the verge of crying.

Maybe it was time for me to visit home for a little while.

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun 1986 #top gun imagine #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction #pete mitchell imagine #pete mitchell fanfiction #pete mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell x y/n #maverick fanfic #maverick imagine #maverick top gun

[bamboobrat]

succession s4 e3 recap: i just called to say are you a cunt? 2/2

part 1

how are we dealing so far? personally, i am not.

tom calls his boyfriend with the news of logan's death, which turns out to be a huge mistake because greg is a dipshit with no poker face and a simp for journalist ass.

guys, i even feel bad for tom. wtf is this episode.

roman is still in denial.

the genius of the writers confirmed: i spent ages wondering if it was real myself, since we never really saw logan and it felt unreal. so thanks for the torture, i guess.

just as the kids receive news they have stopped doing compressions, the ship leaves the dock.

stress level: uncut gems.

hugo is here.

if i saw this man on the worst day of my life i would jump ship.

he informs the sibs that the board is drafting a statement and the reactions are who tf asked.

we see a shift from grief to strategy. new leadership means they need to position themselves.

tom wants people to know he was with logan as he died. karl, gerri and frank need their name on the statement. and although the healthy thing probably would be to grieve in peace, the kids need to stake their claim too.

calling a confrontation in a karaoke bar a family function is controlling the narrative. words are just complicated airflow.

this screenshot is just in here because it has gerri in it.

roman continues his denial tour, this time featuring gerri.

bla bla bla the marked bla bla bla stock prices bla bla shiv casually suggests they leave the plane in the air for a while because of business.

shoot logan into deep space for all i care.

inside you there are two wolves: one who cares about legacy and one that is suicidal.

in this scenario, i would be connor:

actually, i'm shiv, turns out:)))

i'm sure the mommy issues comes as a surprise to no one.

kendall is on the funeral planning commitee.

"funeral off the rack" was the alt title of this week's recap.

and then, just as roman has pointed out they can just be children who have lost their fathers, who need to grieve, rumors of logan's health leak.

fucking greg.

i'm always here for a good sibling huddle.

how "inspirational quote on a boomer facebook group" of them to believe they are actually needed at waystay.

don't stop believing and all that.

i repeat, don't stop believing:

you go, gerri, give him nothing!!!!:(

the way she looked so concerned for them when she entered the room:(( but then he acted like an asshole:((( and now everything is horrible:((((

WE ARE LOSING THE LESBIANS!

DOSE OF FANFIC NEEDED, STAT!

help

help!!!

indeed. how will i ever survive the six days leading up to the next episode?

(it's fanfiction, the answer is fanfiction)

i know that hugo referred to the journos when he said he had briefed "their friendliest" but i like to believe he's talking about shiv.

guys, i'm so drained.

more business. logan is the stock price. anthropomorphic shit that would probably mean something if i cared enough to focus on logan rn.

HUG!!!!!

at this point, it seems impossible that these three will turn on each other, but a lot can happen in seven episodes.

roman's adhd brain needs visual conformation.

this is very important, says woman who forgets the produce if it's at the back of the fridge.

connor wins this episode.

he got his way: statue of liberty, weirdly patriotic band, no cake.

the healthiest relationship in this show is the one that is openly transactional.

speaking of transactional relationships: shiv goes home with tom under the pretense that he has to explain to her the details of what happened on the plane.

what are we thinking? is there hope? (of course not) do we care? (i do, i do a little)

we end on kendall alone and the siblings separated. bad omen.

"i'll be broken when you die"

we await an unpredictable road ahead, friends. buckle up, fuckleheads.

part 1

#succession #succession hbo #succession spoilers #succession recap #succession season 4 #tom wambsgans #matthew macfadyen #roman roy #kieran culkin #shiv roy #sarah snook #kendall roy #jeremy strong #gerri kellman #j. smith-cameron #alan ruck #connor roy #justine lupe #willa ferreyra #colin succession #scott nicholson

[intubatedangel]

Junk : Chapter 3

Thanks again for all the support, I’ve found a decent rhythm, hopefully it will last. Hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Story Index  

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

* * *

Jones cringed sightly hearing Lucy's assessment. He'd only had training in BLS, but he'd picked up enough to know this wasn't looking good. They hurried the gurney over to the ambulance, pausing for a moment to unlock the back doors.

"Jones, you good driving the wagon?" Stone said to him, as they lifted the gurney into the back of the ambulance, giving a discreet nod to the young man who had trailed them out. They both knew it wasn't strictly necessary from the perspective of the patient. With the LUCAS automating compressions, just one of the medics could have easily handled anything else. However, a strung out and high boyfriend was a different matter. They would need to manage that one carefully. If things kicked off they would need a third pair of hands to keep it from going to hell real fast.

"Got it, clear the way for us?" He asked, taking the keys from Dave.

Stone nodded in reply. They shut the doors and parted ways. The young man was reaching for the back door, stammering something. Jones cut him, keeping a soothing tone.

"This way mate, better off sitting up front, ok."

He led the young man around to the front and helped him in before rushing around to the driver’s side. He'd driven one of these ambulances a couple of times before, so it took him only a moment to re-familiarise himself with the layout. The engine roared to life, shifting it into drive before flicking on the sirens. Ahead of him the patrol car lit up too, and moments later both vehicles were on the move.

Jones glanced at the young man beside him. He was turned in his seat, staring into the back, tears streaking down his face. He needed distracting.

"What's your name mate?" Jones asked, taking care to keep any hint of accusation or authority out of his voice.

"Kevin." He mumbled, then his expression flickered, realising he was talking to a cop. "I mean Onyx."

"Onyx huh?" Jones tried to keep the conversation chatty but had a bad feeling his efforts to distract Kevin would fall flat.

"She calls me that. Gave me that name." Kevin said, his voice thick. Grief and the slurs of a fading high were part of it. But Jones sensed the edge of something hard deep underneath it. He stopped talking, hoping the young man would continue the conversation, but he remained silent.

* * *

In the back of the ambulance Dave and Lucy did what they could. Lucy regularly squeezed breath into Krystal’s lungs, while Dave was sorting the IV bags. He pushed a dose of Narcan into one port, adding a second larger dose to the bag of saline to give a constant effect. He also gave her a round of epi and one of bicarb, before grabbing a bag of glucose and electrolyte solution, hooking it up the second IV. Addicts weren't known for having a healthy diet. He'd seen many who had forgone a week’s worth of meals just to get another fix.

With that done there was little more either of them could do. Dave pressed his stethoscope to her chest, double checking the airway, knowing it wasn't necessary. The tube was well placed, but her lung sounds were grim. He heard the tell-tale signs of deeply aspirated vomit. He glanced up, meeting Lucy's gaze. She gave a slight shake of the head. They both knew that even if Krystal survived the overdose, leaving the hospital would be close to a miracle. Neurologically intact was pretty much impossible at this point.

Dave grabbed his shears and made short work of Krystal’s remaining clothing, fully revealing her naked body. Her arms were lined with track marks, and there was even a scattering of needle spots down her legs. Those limbs were also gaunt, little more than skin, bone and sinew. In the bright lights of the ambulance her ribs were clearly visible.

"Epi's had 2 minutes, let's pause the LUCAS and do a pulse check." Dave said, reaching up and twisting the dial of the LUCAS. The hissing clicks stopped, the plunger resting between Krystal’s pale breasts. The monitor continued its squeal, the line sliding across the screen without even the vaguest squiggle. Dave touched his fingers to her wrist and femoral, feeling nothing but her cooling flesh. He looked at Lucy, whose fingers were pressing into Krystal's carotid. She shook her head. Dave resumed the thumper, watching it cave Krystal's chest in over and over again, pumping her unmoving heart.

* * *

Anna pulled off her bloody gloves and the plastic apron, dumping them in the biohazard bin. She ran a hand through her hair, leaning against the wall as she watched the surgical transfer team roll the gurney out. It had been touch and go for a few minutes, a nasty nick to the man's femoral artery had required her to press her finger right into the wound from the open fracture on his thigh while Carl got it clamped off. After that they'd managed to get his blood volume back up and things were looking positive.

It had certainly re-energised her. Carl finished up his hand over with the surgical consultant, who trailed after her own team, then walked over to her. He leaned against the wall beside her.

"Good work there." He told her,

"Not so bad yourself." She replied, giving him a grin. "I missed you earlier. The walk in was terribly lonely."

He reached out, taking her hand but keeping it subtle. "Sorry about that. I tried to get an earlier appointment, but they didn't have any openings." He let out a breath. "All sorted now at least, shouldn't need to visit the accountants for another year."

"Why did you even need to go so urgently?" Anna asked, curious but not pushing.

"Someone was distracting me." He said, with a severe look that he couldn't hold for long before grinning. "I honestly forgot. My Pop's left me various stocks in a trust. They aren't worth big money, but they need managed, so I have to go in once a year to arrange things."

Anna nodded as if she knew what he was talking about. She understood the concept but had never been in that position. Her family wasn't dirt poor, but they'd never had spare cash for gambling on the markets. The only accountant she'd encountered was the one who organised the taxes for her self-employed father. And that involved a few beers and a football match on the TV. It was a nice memory, the simplicity and community of village life, tinged with sadness. The accountant’s daughter had disappeared a couple of years ago. Ran off and cut all contact.

Anna shook her head slightly, pulling herself back to the present. She gave Carl's hand a squeeze, letting out a little sigh. "I suppose we'd best get back to work." She said with a little groan. "More boring dressings."

Carl glanced up at the clock. It was 3:15. "Less than 3 hours left at least." He replied, pushing himself off the wall. "Come on then."

They both left the trauma room, heading back towards the central hub. They were halfway there when they saw Trish hurrying towards them. "We got another Red Call, OD, 2 minutes away. It sounds pretty bad."

* * *

2 minutes later Anna, Carl and the rest of their team were standing just inside the doors to the ambulance bay, keeping warm. They saw the lights of the ambulance approaching swiftly and got ready to spring into action. The ambulance swung around and pulled up, the team running out to pull open the doors. Anna was ready to jump in and take over compressions, but as soon as she saw the big green shell of the LUCAS she slid out of the way, letting the others in the pull the gurney out.

"What have we got Dave?" Carl asked the paramedic as he stepped down beside the gurney.

"Female, Jane Doe, going by Krystal, mid 20's, suspected opiate OD. Suffered a respiratory arrest approximately 22 minutes ago. Oxygenation wasn't restored until 12 minutes ago, by which time she was already asystolic. Significant amount of aspirated vomit. We've given multiple doses of Narcan and set up a titration, with no response. She hasn’t had a rhythm since we arrived."

As the team moved past Anna followed close beside Lucy, allowing her to get a decent look at Krystal. She had been stripped naked on the gurney, her sheared clothing still pinned beneath her. Her flesh was pale and ashen, a pattern of bruising underneath the heel of the LUCAS. In the slight gap of the ET tube holder, she could see Krystal's lips, a cyanotic pale blue. Above her lips was her nose, with the subtle signs of being broken in youth.

Anna frowned, turning her head to try and get a better look at Krystal's face. She looked familiar, and with that broken nose... No way. Anna thought. The accountant's daughter. She'd taken a hockey stick to the face at school. Anna remembered it distinctly because she'd been refereeing for the younger year group. The shock had stunned her, stopping her in her tracks.

"You ok?" A voice said behind her. It was a police officer. She recognised him too. Jones.

"Er... yeah. Yeah. Have you checked in with missing persons?" Anna asked him.

"Yes, haven't anything back yet though."

"Ok." Anna took a steadying breath. "See if they can pull up the information for Megan Kennedy."

Jones's eyebrows raised. "You know her?"

"Maybe." Anna shrugged. "I haven't seen her in 7 years, but she has the exact same broken nose."  

"I'll get right on it." Jones told her, grabbing his radio, chattering away.

Anna meanwhile got back in the game, heading for the trauma room. She hadn't noticed the young man pass her, but he was pushing through the doors. Anna raced to catch up.

* * *

Anna caught up to him a few steps into the trauma room. She slipped around and held up her hands to stall him. Behind her the team had transferred Krystal/Megan onto the trauma bed, removing the shredded clothing and casting it into a pile in the corner. Carl was giving orders, asking for more drugs to go in and a blood sample to be drawn out to test.

"You should really wait outside." Anna told him gently.

"No. No. She needs me." Kevin moaned.

"They're doing everything they can for her ok, you need let..." Anna was cut off.

"No they aren't!" Kevin hissed at her, the sudden switch in his demeanour putting her literally on the back foot. "Why haven't they zapped her! They're supposed to zap her!"

"It wouldn't help her right now. If they get to a point it will help, they'll do it, I promise."

He looked like he was going to keep arguing, but Jones had returned, stepping up close enough to make his presence known. He gave Anna a grim look, holding out his phone. A more recent picture of Megan was on the screen, from shortly before she ran away. Anna took the phone and advanced to the head of the bed. The lifeless young woman looked thinner, and grubbier. But Anna was almost certain it was her. She reached out and eased open one of her eyes. Anna could barely see the iris, a thin ring around a gaping pupil. But it matched the colour on the photo.

"Have you got a blood type yet?" She asked Trish, who had taken the sample and was over by a counter labelling it. She waved at the rapid testing strips, a few drops smeared on them, before sliding out of the way to take it to the lab for the drug screen. Anna quickly interpreted the result. Another match to the information on the missing person’s file.

She returned to Jones, handing back the phone with a sad nod. Then she turned Kevin.

"You really do need to wait outside." She repeated. "We're going to do everything we can to help Megan, but you need to give us space."

The young man turned his gaze toward her, glaring. "Her name is Krystal." He spoke slowly, his words hard as stone.

Jones stepped in the way, breaking the glare, waving Anna back towards the trauma bed. "Come on ... Onyx. Let them do their job." He said, placating but unyielding as he eased the young man backwards, out of the trauma room.

#Medical Drama #Resus Writing #CPR #Intubation #Anna Swift

[henrys-wee-hen]

No-One Fucks With The Lobos - Chapter 10

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48070186/chapters/121964458

or read under the cut! Enjoy!

One week later

The soft, rhythmic beeps filled the room. The rest of the ward was silent. Skeleton staff, in the early hours of the morning. No-one could afford to be on the Lobos’ private ward, after all. The nurse manning the reception desk let out a yawn, stirring a cooling cup of coffee miserably. Just ten minutes until the day shift started… and then some other poor schmuck could come and watch over the new fucking Lobo addition. Nameless and faceless to those who didn’t need to know… but word spread, and everyone knew Teddy Lobo had found a partner, finally. Whether that was a good thing (someone to calm him down and keep him grounded) or a bad thing (the Harley Quinn to his Joker, the Bert to his Ernie, the bullet to his gun) remained to be seen.

What that nurse wasn’t prepared for, was a shrieking, monotonal beep that suddenly rang out from that single occupied room. None of the skeleton crew was prepared for it.

Not a fucking flatline!

“Shit!” He picked up the phone. “CODE BLUE ON FLOOR NINE! CODE BLUE, FLOOR NINE!”

Almost immediately, the place was a hive of activity. The on-call head doctor, Dr Tate, surged into the room with the other doctors, lowering the back of the bed to be completely flat. Chest compressions, oxygen, chest compressions, oxygen, over and over. Doctors took turns, working tirelessly… still, that line didn’t budge.

“Nurse! Nurse – call Mr Lobo immediately! Let’s get up to ICU.” The team agreed, and once again, the activity started. “Come on, (Y/N)… now’s not the time to give up…” Dr Tate carried on with the chest compressions while the team prepared (Y/N)’s body for the invasive tubing that ICU required. They only had a few minutes left before Dr Tate would need to make that call… and it had been too good a shift for him to lose Teddy fucking Lobo’s fucking partner.

Teddy lay on his stomach, the pillow hugged beneath his head, mouth open as he snoozed gently. His mother sat beside him in her robe, a fresh coffee in her hand. She ran her fingers through Teddy’s hair, sighing softly. Having her son home… it took her back to the days when Ritchie was alive, and taking care of things, and she didn’t have to claw back the empire he’d been ready to let go. Her little boy, sleeping just the same way… only this time, tattoos covered his beautiful bare skin, telling tales only Teddy knew the plots to. His mind had always fascinated her as he grew up. The way he’d invent things, scenarios, the way he’d see the world through fascinated eyes every day. He saw the world as a playground – a trait he’d never let go. And Bellafrancesca always said, the girl he chose to spend the rest of his life with would need to be able to handle that. The woman he chose to share himself with would need to adore play as much as he did…

So, where had he lost that desire to play? Where, over the years, had her little boy gone? That bright-eyed, curious little thing who’d been so willing to jump into the fray with a cry of ‘fuck yeah!’ or ‘fuck you!’?

Deep down, she knew it was because of her. Her disdain for the very thing she actually loved of him. Her disappointment every time he cocked up a bust, or got in trouble with the police… and his fear of the police, too. Even though they paid officers, he didn’t trust the power of money… and his fear of the Five Families, which had one day got him into a scrape that had nearly given them the plot of the fucking Lion King, but in real life…

Teddy shifted in his sleep, yawning and nuzzling his pillow. He murmured something, batting her hand away from his hair sloppily. Bellafrancesca smiled.

Bzzz! Bzzz!

Teddy’s phone vibrated loudly against the table. He woke with a start, frowning against the dim light of the grey morning that streamed in through the open curtains. He barely acknowledged his mother as he reached for his phone, scratching his head.

“Yeah?” The sleep left him. He turned pale. Whatever sleep he’d had left in him was taken down by the surge of adrenaline that hit him. “No… no… no, no no nonononono! FUCK! Alright – I’ll be there.” He put the phone down, palming his face.

“Teddy?” Bellafrancesca asked softly.

“(Y/N)’s flatlined… ICU… I gotta fucking go.” He climbed from the bed, staggering for the bathroom. Bellafrancesca rolled her eyes. Of course, her son wouldn’t be seen dead having just rolled out of bed. Or that’s what she thought, until she heard him throw up. She closed her eyes.

It took Teddy longer than he wanted it to take to get to the hospital, but when he got there, a fresh-looking Dr Johnson met him.

“(Y/N) is stable, Mr Lobo. We managed to get to ICU in time.” He gave a grim smile. Teddy passed a hand over his hair, shaking like a leaf. He followed Dr Johnson in a daze along the corridors to a more equipped room, where (Y/N) lay peacefully. Face bruised and bare to the world, but covered in a mask that took care of breathing and eating. Teddy felt sick. He felt so, so sick.

Two weeks later

Pulse. A rhythmic, steady beat. A beep accompanying it. Music? No… couldn’t be.

Something didn’t feel right. Purgatory? My chest was heavy and tight but also so, so wide open at the same time… and I didn’t have to do anything.

Nothingness. Blackness. Endless expanse of nothing all at once everywhere.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Soft murmuring… male voices. Dad? Uncle Jim? No. Both not here. No.

Beep. Beep. Hiss… Beep. Beep. Hiss…

Snake Jazz. Haha.

Nothing.

Awareness crept back to me slowly. Spreading out and down from the base of my throat, down to my chest. I forgot about arms and fingers, legs, hips… toes! Toes… Something horrible pulled itself out of my throat. It felt invasive, but then heaviness returned to my chest again. What was I supposed to do?

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Oh. Yeah.

I took a huge gasp of air, and it felt like I was coming up from the depths of a deep, dark lake. It took a long time for me to be able to crack my eyelids open long enough to make sense of the world around me. I wasn’t dead – heaven didn’t look like a fucking hospital room, I hoped – but I wasn’t wholly sure I was fully alive, either.

More time passed. People moved around me, poking and prodding at numb skin. God, I felt weak. Cold and weak. But I couldn’t tell them I felt cold and weak, and no-one moved the blankets up around me. The world went dark again for a little while, and then my eyes worked again. It was confusing, a trying time for sure.

It must have gone like that for a while, until I woke up feeling rather fully human. My awareness of myself felt fully into my body, if that made any sense. I had no dead parts, no missing parts. I wiggled every bit of me that I could, and chuckled softly to myself. My eyes didn’t feel like they weighed ten tonnes, either. I looked around, the room still a little fuzzy. It was for sure a hospital room. I was hooked up to all kinds of monitors, but the one with the steady beat was my heart monitor.

A soft groan from a chair beside me caught my attention.

Teddy. Teddy Lobo. Legs sprawled out, slumped down, arms at an odd angle. A single stray curl flopped down on his forehead, his shirt ruffled up just enough from the angles of his arms that a tiny smattering of dark hair showed behind the black tank tops he usually wore. He shifted a little, one leg straightening out a little more. It couldn’t have been a comfortable position, but Teddy wasn’t usually in control of what his limbs did. He coughed, slipping down more in the chair, so much that it woke him. He pushed himself up a little bit, yawning. He sat forward, massaging his eyes.

He looked at me. God, he looked tired. His face fell, the stress melting away in place of horror, anguish, joy, relief, all manner of emotions passing across and through those heartbreaking brown eyes. He surged forwards, falling to his knees beside the bed, taking my hand in his.

“Fuck, (Y/N)! I thought – you’re alive – thank fuck you’re alive!”

“Hey,” I murmured. It came out much longer than I’d expected. I sounded slurred, drunk almost. That was not my voice. “Oh… god… I sound… terr’bul…”

“Fuck, (Y/N), you’ve been out of it for three fucking weeks!” Teddy’s eyes shone. He stood up and hit the nurse button, knees shaking. “They – you were in the ICU – I thought you were gonna fucking die on me…”

I couldn’t remember why I was there. Nothing came to me. No memory of anything. Why was Teddy even there?

“Stephanie?” I asked. Teddy frowned.

“Who’s Stephanie?”

“Stephanie?!” I asked again. I just really needed to know where Katie was – was she safe?! “No – Katie is not Stephanie!” I slurred. “Katie – did – you hit me wi-th your car, no?” Teddy frowned at me more, confused. A doctor came in. I didn’t recognise him.

“Ah! (Y/N)! It’s wonderful to see you lucid! Welcome back to us!”

“Where’s Stephanie?” I asked again, my tongue thick. I really needed water, too. “No – Stephanie is not Katie! Katie is okay?”

“Katie? Stephanie?” the doctor turned to Teddy. “Any ideas?”

“Katie…” Teddy stepped a little closer to the doctor. “Was her partner, doc. She died in the line of duty a while back.”

“Ah. Then we have our first problem,” the doctor muttered to Teddy. I couldn’t make sense of it. “Memory loss. Undoubtedly the blood loss and flatlining gave her brain a good shake-up. It might come back… but keep her stress levels down.”

“Did you hit me, Tedbo? Lobert? No – Tobo –“ I fought with my tongue, still. Teddy chuckled and shook his head. “Car aggiden. Orange paint again?”

“(Y/N), what on earth is happening in that fucking mouth of yours, huh?” Teddy asked. He sat down as the doctor took some vitals from me.

“I don’t know.” I watched the doctor remove an unused cannula from my arm. “Did… you… hit… me… with… orange… car?”

“Oh – no.” Teddy shifted. “I’ll explain everything when you’re feeling a little better, baby. Alright?” I nodded smally, my head mashed. “Good. When will she be able to come home, doc Johnson?”

“Hard to say for the moment, Teddy. Keep faith it’ll be sooner rather than later.”

One week later

Relearning to do regular things, like walk and eat and drink water again, was hard enough. I had no idea how I’d gotten to the ICU at all, nor how I’d ended up in Teddy Lobo’s fucking clutches. But I hated him. Everyone kept telling me there were gaps in my memory, but no-one told me about Katie (even though I felt immensely sad for some reason), and no-one told me how I’d been given scarring so bad, I looked like a woodchipper had given me a hug. No-one told me anything.

“When can I go back to work?” I asked Dr Johnson one morning, as he came in to assess my vitals. I was getting stronger every day, and I was sitting up alone today. My body felt real good, but I longed to take a walk outside, feel the cold air on my skin.

“Oh, not for a while, yet,” Dr Johnson smiled. “You’ll need to be able to remember everything before you can think about going back to work. Alright?” I gave a resigned nod.

“Hey. There’s a police officer at the NOPD. Rebecca Quincy. Can you call her? Tell her to come see me? I could use a friendly face.”

“Certainly, (Y/N).” Dr Johnson gave me that same, patient smile. I lay back.

“And… can I walk today? Like outside, for a bit?”

“I’ll have a physical therapy nurse come in to accompany you.”

“Thank you, doc.”

Rebecca would explain everything. Rationally, I’d obviously had something big and bad enough happen to me, if I’d been in the ICU. Dr Johnson had explained to me that I’d suffered rather severe injuries that had left me with broken bones, a lot of cut up skin, and a lot of blood loss. I’d taken three transfusions on the operating table, and then I’d crashed and flatlined at one point. But I still had so many questions.

Why was Teddy Lobo being so fucking nice to me?

Why was I in a private hospital bed, when my work’s basic healthcare just about covered little more than the benefits that came with MedicAid?

What had actually happened to me to make me so injured?

Why was Teddy Lobo being so fucking nice to me?!

Why didn’t Rebecca come to see me? Or Katie?

Why did I feel so sad whenever I thought about Katie?

What the fuck was happening to me?!

I was sleeping for twelve to fourteen hours a night when they decided that sending me home would be a better idea. I woke up in a beautifully-ornate bedroom. Black Egyptian cotton sheets. Buttery-soft pillows. Half-drawn shutters. The sound of a videogame coming from somewhere. Smell of pizza.

Katie was dead. I was captive. Had been for months, now. The attack. The rape. The bathtub. Kissing. Teddy fucking Lobo had snapped and had tried to fucking kill me.

I sat up. My heart hammered against my chest. It flooded back to me in one whole freight-train-heavy hit. I felt the tears escape down my cheeks. Teddy fucking Lobo had tried to fucking kill me?! I remembered everything. And I laughed, a little bit demonically. I wasn’t going to take the fucking knee for him. No. He was going to take the fucking knee for me. And then, I was going to hurt him as much as he’d hurt me.

I slid from the bed and landed on shaking legs. I padded through the thick-carpeted corridors, following the sounds of the videogame. It took me past the kitchen, where I swiped a large, heavy kitchen knife from the block on the counter top. Through another corridor, the videogame was loud now. Mario Kart. Teddy, sat in front of the game on the sofa, back to me, pizza open beside him with three slices left. Engrossed. He was doing fairly well, too, in first place with a lot of little power-ups stored. He used them in quick succession, and won the race, making a little ‘yesss’ sound. Juvenile little bastard.

I stumbled behind him and took hold of him, pressing the blade of the knife weakly against his exposed throat.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t fucking end you right now, like you tried to fucking end me, Teddy-bear?” I breathed, my voice surprisingly steady. Teddy held his hands up and swallowed against the blade.

#teddy lobo #teddy lobo x reader #tedward lobo #renfield #Teddy Lobo

[violetlunette]

Tbh endeavor is a great hero. Shit father but it's a canon thing that he is the best hero in Japan if we don't uknowlege the op ofa quirk users. He takes his job with full seriousness and is also a great teacher and mentor. Which is funny because as for the main character that is supposed to show how hero society sucks he is... a good hero. He is a good hero, boss, teacher. He doesn't even abuse his power. Sidekicks love and adore him. Him being a shit person has nothing to do with hero society. Him wanting to be no 1 and better than All Might is not societys fault. He is just a bad broken person because he is just a weak guy that went too far with his goals.

So when people say that Endeavor is prime hero example of hero society being broken I just want to ask... how?

Well, it could show how people use their reputation and public image to cover their horrible actions. The closest real-life example is how police officers can be loved by their peers and the public, then come home to beat the crap out of their families. Then said families aren’t believed because the public image is so strong. In a way, that’s how he uses his “hero image” and abuses his power. Sorry, but as this is a serious topic featuring abuse, I’d rather avoid diving too deep into Endeavor’s character, as it’s out of my field. At the very least, I would like to wait until I have more information on the subject.

I will touch on the Hero Society thing, though; People say that it’s the popularity system that turned Endeavor into what he was. However, from what we’ve seen, he just wanted to beat All Might as he was obsessed with him, like how Bakagou was obsessed with Izuku. The manga states that the hero business is very competitive, and we get a few glimpses here and there. Yet those are more like childish spats than anything serious. Because of that, it’s hard to take the line “heroing is competitive” seriously. It’s a story, however. So, to keep it flowing, the writing needs to compress some stuff into one character, in this case, Endeavor. However, Endeavor never uses the system to get what he wants. Is there a scene before All Might’s retirement that showed Endeavor caring about his popularity? Is he watching the ranks? Anything like that? I can’t recall off the top of my head. But in conclusion, Endeavor is an asshole because he wanted to beat All Might, who was stronger than him. It never had anything to do with the popularity system. Of course, I don’t remember every single scene in the manga, so maybe I missed something. If someone has more information, then, by all means, share.

#anti endeavor #anti enji todoroki #bnha meta #hero system #I have a lot of work to do when the manga finishes. #sigh #bnha #mha #tw abuse mention #tw abuse of power

[wincore]

romeo roulette | jung yoonoh

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader

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

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

words: 21.2k

warnings: language

song recs: playlist here !

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

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

Jung Yoonoh. Get your act together.

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

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

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

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

This whole charade dates its beginning to a week ago. 

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

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

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

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

“And I get what out of this?”

“Me? Temporarily, that is.”

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

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

“Wait!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll ask Doyoung if you say no.”

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

“I really will ask him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

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

“On one condition.”

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

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

“No way.”

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

You stare at him, weighing the odds. 

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

Jaehyun shrugs.

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

You mutter the last part.

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

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

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

“We have an agreement,” he repeats.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You should." You glare at her.

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

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

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

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

"Yeah," Sicheng mutters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Literally what I just said," Soojin says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sigh. “Man, I feel bad for him.”

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

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

You gasp. “Is it me? It’s me, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise an eyebrow. “So?”

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

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

“Hey. Professional,” Soojin warns.

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

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

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

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

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

“Shh. What if they hear us?”

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

You huff, crossing your arms. “Still…”

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

“Your acting was shit though,” you snipe.

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you headed to?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, the sweet summer child that Dongmin is.

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

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

“—Around ten minutes left.”

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

“That sounds like a load of—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggle. "Alright, handsome."

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

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

“What do you mean, baby?”

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

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

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

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

“You think you’re so—”

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

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

“Don’t say a word, Yoonoh.”

“Ooh, you’re saying my name now.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“I find it plenty funny.”

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

“Mhm.”

“Don’t look so smug.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You roll your eyes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you mutter.

He raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

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

He laughs. “What are we, in college?”

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

“Wrong,” he emphasizes, face leaning closer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun looks down. “Ginseng extract.”

“Oh, the gift pack?” Doyoung asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The two of you look at each other.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh? CEO? I’m sorry?” you manage. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Dammit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I charge by the hour.” He smiles.

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, what? I didn’t catch that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, yes or no?”

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

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

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

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

“No,” he says with clear emphasis. 

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

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

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

Jaehyun shakes his head, smiling through his hand. 

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

He sighs. “Maybe. Have you?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?”

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

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

“Definitely.”

He scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

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

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

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

“It’s not officially there.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re both the same thing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You saved me,” you say, smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile. “Thanks, Soojin.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You clearly liked it,” he mutters. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look at her, puzzled.

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

“Don’t give me that cr—”

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

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

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

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

“Of course it is,” you mutter. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There.”

“It’s hot in here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He does?”

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

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

“Hm. Funny coincidence.”

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

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

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

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

“For what? Being perfect and successful?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m so sorry!”

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?”

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

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

“Sorry,” he responds quietly. 

There’s a pause.

“Did you just kiss me right now?”

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

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

“What are you implying?” 

“You wanted to kiss me.”

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe it won’t.

"Never heard that before."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, not exac—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life strikes again with its poorly timed irony.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just stick out your tongue at him subtly.

“I told you we’d win,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, me too,” Jaehyun agrees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun pauses before humming in realization.

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

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

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

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

“Too?”

“Shut up.”

There’s a beat of silence. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think people in love are always brave.”

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

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

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

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

“Sicheng rubbed off on me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. "So?"

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

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

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

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

"Everyone needs mints, Jaehyun. Especially men."

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

"Have this mint or else."

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

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

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

"By me, right?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh. You might be right about that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“So I’m right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What do lovers do anyway?

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

You don’t mind it one bit.

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

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

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

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

You let out another huff of complaint.

"Does everything have to be heart-shaped?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You faltered for a moment there.”

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

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

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

“Wow, you must be a masochist.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe you enjoy my company?”

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

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

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

“And chill?”

“Do you even know what that means?”

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

You inhale, an idea presenting itself.  

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

“No.”

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

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

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

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers suddenly.

“Yes,” you answer.

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

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

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

“It’s pretty,” he whispers.

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

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

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

You exhale.

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

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

“Jaehyun—”

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun pulls apart and you miss the warmth.

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

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

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

“I’m sorry” is all you can say.

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

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

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

Because misery likes company.

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm? Show me?” He blinks at you. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Dongmin.”

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

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

“That’s- That’s my—what is this?”

Russian roulette is certainly not the same without a gun.

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

His initial shock seems to have partly subsided.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Into this loveless hell made for you.

“(name).”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dongmin takes a sharp breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come with me,” Dongmin tells you.

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

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

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

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

He looks bitter and you can’t think of a sugar-coated response. You’ll just have to tell him how you feel.

“I need to sort things out, Jaehyun. This—”

You point from him to yourself.

“Couldn’t work out thanks to fate. Dongmin and I will never work out because he’s braver than I am. You know he’s doing all of that just so I don’t get hurt, right? He’s not suddenly in love with me.”

Jaehyun purses his lips, looking down to his feet. Is it so bad that he let jealousy get the best of his mouth? Envy isn’t so awful. He looks from your eyes to lips and wishes he were young enough to believe in fairytales.

“You don’t have to be brave,” he whispers. “You don’t have to be so brave to fall in love. You don’t have to be brave to stay with me.”

“We tried, Jaehyun. And we can’t cheat fate. That, at the very least, requires bravery.” 

You press your lips into a thin line. It hurts. It hurts so bad to look at him and face the consequences of this flawed design. It’s unfair. It’s unfair that you have to follow the rules even after trying your best to break them. 

“You wish you never met me, don’t you?” you whisper. “I made a mess.”

Before he responds, you bow in a short goodbye and walk towards the elevator. There’s no footsteps behind you, no Prince Charming. It’s just you and your high heels clacking against the cold marble as you head back to an empty home. You always thought freedom would feel different, that distance would give you perspective. It just feels awful when no one is around you at all. When you have no one to pick up morning calls from, receive texts from asking if you ate, spend time in peace without uttering a single word—are you free or are you lonely?

The rules state that the two of you are different. It is true. You are as different as love in real life and love in the movies; and neither of them have happy endings now.

You wish you drank some more last night if you were going to embarrass yourself like that. Thankfully, it’s the weekend and you have two more days to figure out how to face your coworkers. You frown when you think of Jaehyun. Were you wrong to tell him that you simply couldn’t choose him? What if fate is right and it falls apart? You stir your morning coffee, the will to drink it fading slowly. It’s already fallen apart—and it wasn’t fate who did that, it was you. Should you have taken his stupidly warm hands and asked him to follow you? You don’t understand how it works at all.

Centuries of questioning what love is, poking and prodding at it like a lab sample, and there’s still no perfect answer. Love is blind. Love is cruel. Love is a fever. Love is temporary insanity. Love is acceptance. Love will set you free. There’s just too many variations. You can never tell if fate is meant to make it easier or worse. 

No one questions you at the office and you're not sure if you’re glad or aggravated. Only Doyoung shoots you a pitiful look which you brush off and immediately get into work. Embarrassment is only real if you acknowledge it. However, every time Dongmin tries to talk to you, you ask for space and even alone in your thoughts, you don’t get it. They just have to drift to Jaehyun.

You wonder if what he said was true, that he wanted you enough to forget the system. It’s clearly ruined now. The spiral of thinking has you zoning out during work more often than not and even Doyoung ends up reprimanding you for your lack of focus. Sometimes you want to snap but other times, you’re just hopelessly reciting the events over and over in your head. This was supposed to happen, wasn’t it? You don’t even have the strength left in you to blame it all on Jaehyun.

You pace in the corridors after work, contemplating popping by the Marketing Department. What could go wrong? Sure, it was a little dramatic of you to leave like that but everything can be fixed, right? You groan. What you were supposed to be fixing, you made worse. Are your hands cursed or something? You shake your head, returning to your desk to gather your belongings and head home.

Unfortunately, the sight of Doyoung sitting in your chair alarms you and you stop a foot away. 

“If you’re going to reprimand me for watching cat videos instead of checking the employee records, I can assure you my efficiency is still top-notch.” 

“You’re—what? Never mind.” Doyoung shakes his head. “Can you give this ginseng pack to Jaehyun? I owe him.” 

Oh no. You know where this is going.

“You know I’m going to keep that for myself, right?” You make a face. “I’d rather die than face Jaehyun right now.”

Doyoung shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll be the one running to you. This is in case of an emergency.”

You give him a fake smile and Doyoung shakes his head. “Good to see you’re still great at pretending to be fine.”

You sigh. “Thanks for looking out for me, bossman.”

Doyoung blinks, hand covering his mouth when an audible gasp leaves him. “Woah. I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you thank me. But don’t call me bossman ever again.”

“Noted,” you say, taking your bag and leaving with a short goodbye. You’re lucky he lets you off work early, even if you never took it. Employees usually can’t leave until their superiors does and if you were a senior employee, you’d be giving your juniors quite the hell.

You seem to be good at concocting hellscapes. Perhaps, you should look for job openings in the underworld. One last thought of Jaehyun exits your head and you take the bus home, admiring the city you live in and the warmth of people and their relationships. You don’t feel jealous; you just bask in them for the time—be it a mother and her son or two bickering sisters or a lovely old couple. That’s how it’s meant to be, then. That’s how love works.

Jaehyun smacks his head against the sofa armrest for the fifteenth time in a row.

“Dude. You’re going to permanently ruin the fabric.” Sicheng says, eyes trained on his laptop screen.

“I should’ve said something more.” Jaehyun’s voice is so zombie-like, he thinks he should cast himself in the Train to Busan sequel as an extra.

“I’m glad I’m not you,” Sicheng mutters.

“Can you give me some sort of consolation, at least?”

“That’s not what I’m your friend for.”

Jaehyun sighs and resumes smacking the back of his head against the armrest. He really needs to figure this out. After all, he can’t really Google the solution to this.

“One thing doesn’t make sense,” Sicheng says, finally looking up from his screen. “Why do you have the same mark as (name)’s if you’re not soulmates?”

“You’re so incredibly—but adorably—stupid, Sicheng. She drew it in with a permanent marker. She kissed me too! It was sudden and weird but I didn’t mind it.

“Yikes.” Sicheng makes a face. “So… you didn’t take a shower for how long now?”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

“The ink hasn’t washed off. I heard you singing in the shower yesterday, how could you not have washed that off? Ugh. Don’t tell me you miss her.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen as he jumps up and rushes to the washroom. Looking into the mirror, the tattoo poking out from his T-shirt resembles yours a lot more than his. The arrow is still drawn in. Jaehyun’s shoulder slumps. He doesn’t know what he was expecting. Turning the tap and letting the water flow, he wets his hand and rubs at his collarbone to remove the arrow.

Except it doesn’t budge. His skin turns painfully red from the rubbing but the ink, which usually washes off in less than five minutes has no intention of leaving. Did you use a different brand of marker the last time? When was it anyway? 

Jaehyun breathes out, firming his resolve. He needs to be with you.

Sicheng blinks in surprise as Jaehyun grabs his car keys, not even bothering to change from an all-black getup of a T-shirt and jeans like some emo teenager, and shuts the front door behind him. Not even a ‘goodbye, I’m leaving!’

Sicheng sighs. Love makes people crazy. He’s not falling into that trap when his soulmate literally doesn’t exist, the same as his soulmark. It seems the contestants in this game are full of exceptions.

You hit your head against your pillow. To visit Jaehyun or not to. You haven’t left your bed since you woke up around seven in the morning, and now it’s ten. Your bedsheets are a mess because you’ve rolled around too much on them (in despair, not with someone unfortunately).

You need the quiet sometimes to let your mind rest, to let your heart rest. You needed time. But maybe it’s been long enough and now you’re just searching for excuses to hold on to your last shred of dignity.

You lift your head up and glare at the box of ginseng on your table. Should you? You reluctantly get up, feeling a sting of pain in your back for lying in that awkward position for so long. Right when you’ve put on your slippers, the doorbell rings and you groan. How did the package you stress-ordered last night arrive so early? These deliveries are getting faster and faster.

You walk to the front door and open it thoughtlessly, freezing up at the sight. Your first reaction is to cover yourself. You’re not exactly your best-looking version at the moment. Jaehyun’s dark circles almost match yours but he’s better dressed than you are—in a black T-shirt and jeans while you’re wearing a Gudetama pajama set.

“We’re not just friends,” he blurts. “We’re not soulmates but we’re not just friends.”

“Huh? Oh my god, this is the most embarrassing I’ve looked.”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows in a question look. 

“That’s not important! Look—”

He pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. His hair is so disheveled and messy, he barely even looks like the same well-maintained marketing employee you know. 

Jaehyun tugs at his T-shirt, pulling down to reveal his tattoo—albeit with your marker-drawn arrow through it. He does have a pretty well-built chest, you note before chiding yourself for getting distracted.

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you, uh, need help scrubbing it off or something?”

“No.” Jaehyun lets out a huff of exasperation. “It won’t wash off. If it’s what I think it is—”

“Miracles don’t happen to people like us, Jaehyun,” you say quietly.

He gulps. “I don’t know about miracles but… I just needed an excuse to see you, I guess.”

You look up, a rose blush over Jaehyun’s bare face, and run your finger over the tattoo, sighing at the warmth of his skin. Your hand travels up to his cheek, resting atop it while you muster enough courage to look Jaehyun in his chocolate brown eyes.

You pull away. This isn’t the time. You still have an internal crisis to sort out. Are you even deserving of love? It makes much more sense if the answer is no. 

However, Jaehyun pulls you in by the waist, his right palm warm against your cheek.

“I don’t care what anyone says.” He runs his thumb over your cheek in a painfully fond manner. “You’re worth more than the price I pay for this.”

He leans in and presses his lips to yours swiftly, your head clearing of thoughts almost immediately. It feels so right, you can feel the spark, the red thread around your skin, hear the bells. This kiss was far more perfect than it was supposed to be.

You part, gasping. Jaehyun blinks at you, breathing heavily.

“Kiss me again.”

Jaehyun does as told and you might just believe in miracles this way. With his hand around your waist and in your hair, his lips over yours and the low rumbling laughter that parts the two of you—you might just believe in miracles. You might just believe that love isn't something you deserve by earning.

“I like this,” Jaehyun comments. “I like the way this is.”

You press your finger to his lips. “I think you should shut up and kiss me some more.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I know you’re sexually repressed as of now, but that’s no reason to take advantage of me.”

You scowl, punching him on the shoulder and moving away from him.

“Come back,” he complains in a quiet voice.

“I am not going to do that.” You cross your arms.

“Come on,” he mutters, inching closer as you inch away, till your back hits the couch and you tumble backwards onto it, your legs on the headrest. Jaehyun laughs at your position, leaning in to keep his hands on either side of you, a doting look over him.

“Hey, did you know if I kicked my leg up, it would hit you in the balls?”

“Please don’t do that.”

You giggle, Jaehyun’s nose rubbing against yours in a bunny kiss. 

“Is your place usually this much of a mess?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. 

You sigh heavily. “I was having a bad day, okay? Or… a bad weekend.”

“Do you even have food?”

You look away, crossing your arms. Jaehyun sighs and shakes his head.

“We should go grocery shopping. How do you live like this?”

You scoff. “Oh, spare me the lecture. I’ve heard enough horror stories about your room from Sicheng. You can’t hide from me by sweeping your clothes and belongings into his room.”

“Snitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You can’t help the giggle that erupts from your mouth and you immediately cover it. Jaehyun smiles at you fondly and you look away, unable to bear that gaze of his.

“It really won’t wash off, by the way,” Jaehyun states, scratching at his collarbone.

You narrow your eyes, smacking his arms away to roll off the couch. Taking his wrist, you walk into your bathroom and turn the tap on. Something’s strange. But also strangely right.

“Look, I already tried—ow! Don’t rub that hard!”

You blink in confusion, trying again despite Jaehyun looking like his soul already left him. It doesn’t work. Your marker isn’t even that permanent. At least his regenerating skin cells should get rid of that arrow. Unless the ink was deep enough to pierce all the layers, as in a soulmark.

You gasp.

“You were right!”

“I told you s—”

"That's the point, isn't it?" you say, realization dawning as your eyes widen. "To see if people will question the system at all."

Jaehyun shrugs. “Maybe.”

"Oh, all those unhappy marriages that could have been saved," you say as you exhale. 

Jaehyun chuckles lightly. "I think that the point was, people can be happy without their soulmates. It's whoever you make one out of. Or I Googled too many articles on anti-soulmate propaganda."

You smile, leaning in to press a kiss against his cheek. Watching his ears turn bright red is the cherry on top.

“Okay, fake-boyfriend-turned-real-soulmate.” You give him a cheeky smile. “Did you rethink your decision about sharing that Netflix password with me? I get the girlfriend free pass, right? Right?”

“I didn’t even share it with my mother.”

You whack his arm, him possibly used to it by now, judging from his lack of response. 

“Idiot.” You cross your arms. “We can Netflix… and chill then. God, I can’t believe I said that.”

Jaehyun breaks into a chuckle. “You’re so pushy.”

 “And you like being pushed around, nerd.”

“Who said that?”

Jaehyun wraps his arms around you, spinning you so that your back hits the door. He leans in to kiss you again and you smack your palm over his pouted lips. You laugh at his face, his eyes brimming with confusion.

“You’re in my apartment. I make the rules here. Think twice before you start a game with me, Mister.”

His shoulders droop. “Fine. Can you at least let me kiss you four times a day?”

“Five times, if you ask.”

He laughs before leaning in again. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“You are one hell of a woman. Emphasis on hell.”

You laugh and grab his collar, pulling him in for the kiss that seals this deal.

You realize a few things in the moment: a) You don’t have to play roulette to find love, b) You don’t have to pick your poison to find love, and most importantly c) Love is right where you make something of it. Fate is still not in your good books but if it bends to you this way, you don’t mind at all. If Jaehyun kisses you like this every day, you don’t mind one bit. 

#jaehyun x reader #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #cznnet #neowritingsnet #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct fluff #nct 127 fluff #jaehyun fluff #nct fic #jaehyun fic #jaehyun fanfic #nct fanfic #moonwrites #i know i said no more 20k+ fics but............ this is literally karma isnt it #anyway i hope there aren't any typos i proofread like once that's enough k #also this is queued bcs im going on vacation ! :D

[linkspooky]

The Hands that Will Save the League

In chapter 321 we're reminded once again of the reoccurring motif of hands reaching out to save someone in need, especially with the double spread close-up of Iida's hands reaching for Deku's hands. I couldn't help but think how this could apply to the league of villains. Hand symbolism has always been associated with Shigaraki (duh), both in the fact that his hands destroy everything they touched, and also his reason for being a villain stems from the fact that not a single hand reached out to save him that day. However, we've also had another character in the league with hands drawn up close and personal reaching out to save the others: spinner.

1. Just an Empty Cosplayer

I'm not the first one to make this observation. @codenamesazanka pointed this out long before me, especially in regards to Spinner's importance to the league, but basically, Spinner's role is that despite being a teenage mutant ninja turtle he's also the everyman of the league. He's not connected to the main conflict of the story by bloodline or legacy, the way Shigaraki, Dabi, and Compress are. He's not someone with an incredibly powerful or deviant quirk like Twice or Toga. He is a victim, but he doesn't have the elaborate villain backstories of Twice, Shigaraki, Dabi, and Toga.

He literally is just some guy with a lizard quirk. He has the weakest quirk in the league and the weakest reason for why he joined the league. Spinner faces societal abuse because of his quirk, but what spurred him to action was seeing Stain appear on TV, and a desire to be a less empty person than he was before. Spinner was pushed, he was rejected by society, but I would say as an inverse to the league who are driven by extraordinary circumstances, Spinner is basically an every man who drives himself to keep up with the rest of the league despite seemingly lacking everything "special" they have.

And I believe this every man quality, and this drive Spinner has is what's going to be the key to piecing the league back together. It's because Spinner sees himself as so far behind the rest of the league, and so much less special than they are, that he's driven to try to understand them.

Not only is Spinner a member who has tried to understand every member of the league in one way or another, Spinner is also someone who similiar to Sihgaraki foils every single character in the league despite just being an everyman.

2. Spinner and Toga

While Spinner and Toga may not have the same level of development to their interactions as Twice and Toga, Spinner reaches out to her once but not twice, and there are a lot of parallels you can draw between the characters.

Both Spinner and Toga joined the league for the same reason, an empty admiration for Stain, without really caring about Stain's ideals. Toga admires Stain because he's covered in blood and fighting for something and she wants to become more like the people she admires, Spinner because he saw himself as pathetic for hiding in his room all day and when he saw Stain taking a stand trying to change the whole world on his own he wanted to become that way too. Which means both of them have a tendency to want to become more like the people they admire, because their own sense of personal identity is so weak.

Himiko and Spinner both define themselves by the way society has rejected them. Spinner has internalized the idea that he's an empty person who can't accomplish anything on his own, every terrible thing other people said about him due to his heteromorph quirk he accepted it. At the same time, Toga was somebody born with a "dangerous quirk" who was told to repress it and then did that living under a fake identity as a normal school girl that would please her parents and the people around her for as long as she could. Both Toga and Spinner are taught by the society around them to be self-loathing and to repress themselves because of their quirks. They're also characters who are both defined by a desire for release.

When Spinner asks if Toga still wants to be in the league because of Stain and she responds, Now I wanna become everyone I love. Spinner comments, "You're so free."

Spinner and Toga both claim they joined the league because of love for another person, they both loved and admired some aspect of Stain, but their real reason for joining, or at least the reason they stay is that deep down both of them desire the freedom to be themselves. Toga wrapping her desires up in language like love for other people, and wanting to become them, is because deep down she believes because of her quirk there's no one who would accept her for herself, as the normal girl she believes she is, no one will let her live as Toga thus she tries to become other people. It's the same for Spinner, who believes he can't be anything other than the Lizard Freak, so he too tries to dress himself up and become a Stain Cosplayer. It's only through the league's acceptance that Toga and Spinner slowly begin to learn that they are good enough on their own, just as themselves, and their priorities begin to shift.

3. Spinner and Twice

Twice and Spinner have several backstory parallels already. They are both characters affected by poverty, Spinner lived in a backwater town plagued by old views of heteromorph quirks, Twice lost his parents and began working to support himself at a young age before becoming homeless. Spinner and Twice were also both labeled in a way that stuck with them, after Twice got a criminal charge in an accident on his permanent record he couldn't find another job after being labeled deviant. Spinner was labeled as a deviant because of his quirk and the idea that he's a lizard freak has always stuck with him the same way that Twice has internalized the idea that "bad people don't get saved."

They also both chose to isolate themselves because of the circumstances they faced. Twice's first response to homelessness was to decide to never trust anybody but himself, and he became a criminal who pulled off heists with only clones of himself as team members until that stopped working for him. Spinner's response was also to shut himself away in his room and become a NEET. They both cut themselves off to the society that labeled them as unacceptable, but in the process they also cut themselves off from other people and became unable to trust others.

While they have major backstory parallels, I believe the greatest parallel between them is going to be that Spinner will inherit that role that Twice had for the league. While Shigaraki is the leader, Twice more than anybody else believed the League to be a family, and encouraged everyone to be friendly with one another.

It's Twice more than anyone else who emphasizes the bond of the league, that they're all strays, that they need to take care of each other and save each other. It's Twice who urges Shigaraki to save Giran because he's one of them. He makes the unspoken bond of the league as a group of miscreants into a spoken one, because Twice wants those things, he's well aware of the fact that he wants trust and acceptance and came to the league to find those things. This is the greatest thing that ties Spinner and Twice's characters together, because they both view themselves as worthless, they define themselves by how they help the other members of the league.

Twice's death so far isn't something that has been really capitalized on by the plot, Hawks has yet to face consequences, we haven't gotten to see much of the league's reaction because they were scattered soon afterwards. However, if Twice's death is going to cause development eventually I believe it will be in the vacuum in the league created now that Twice is gone. There is no longer someone who is urging all of them to be together. Twice's death causes most of the league to become less stable. Toga goes on a killing spree, Dabi attacks Hawks, Compress tries to kill himself in a heroic sacrifice, Shigaraki hasn't gotten the chance to react yet but he's also gotten worse considering he's currently possessed. You could even say that Twice's death has caused other characters to double down on their worst habits.

Dabi's worst habit is that he acts separately from the league and refuses to participate in the group dynamic, believing himself to be a solo avenger. Dabi not trusting or telling the league what he was planning on doing with Hawks, as a consequence of his decision to play solo avenger, caused Twice to trust Hawks which led to his death. Hawks was the one who killed him but Dabi played a part, and when Twice dies Dabi obviously reacts to it, but also his decision is to double down on his bad habit, insisting he's only using the league and he doesn't care about the rest of the group. Toga also doubles down on her bad habit, she runs away from the rest of the league and insists she's only doing this for the freedom to do whatever she pleases, not because you know Twice got killed right in front of her. Compress's arc is less pronounced, but he also does, in fact, try to kill himself in a grand heroic sacrifice for the rest of the league.

When twice dies the league begins to fall apart and everyone acts on their individual worst flaws, ignoring that they were always stronger together as a group. However, there is still one person who wanted the exact same thing Twice did, to be trusted, to belong to a group. This is most likely the role that Spinner is going to grow to, someone who is trusted by everyone in the group.

Notably, when Toga is about to run away it's Spinner who reminds her that the league is a place for them to come back to. Toga who was probably the closest to Twice and spiraling the worst because of his death, and Toga and Twice's friendship was the first time we really saw how much of a "bond" the league had formed with one another, because in the camp arc they barely cooperated, only begrudgingly. It's Spinner who who emphasizes that even though everyone in the league is doing this for individualism "doing what they want" that they are also together as a group. Spinner is set to inherit Twice's role as the heart, because one he tries to understand other people in the league making the effort to reach out, and two Spinner is aware of what he wants just like Twice he wants to be trusted by the rest of the group.

4. Spinner and Dabi

This one is a little bit harder because Dabi's character arc really hasn't started yet. We have just now gotten to the reveal of who he is and what his motivations are, after it being a mystery for so long. However unlike the rest of the league, we haven't really seen how Dabi has reacted and changed by becoming a part of the group. Even if his motivation isn't "I'm only using them" and deep down he really does care, I don't think he's even realized yet that he does care or that he's not just using them. Dabi still believes himself to be alone, and therefore he's still isolated from the rest of the league and flying his revenge quest solo even though he's really not.

In that case, the biggest parallel between Spinner and Dabi is that they both had to be won over by the league. They both joined because of admiration for Stain, probably because Dabi genuinely believed in Stain's ideals of taking down impure heroes because it fit his own agenda so well, whereas Spinner is a self-proclaimed empty cosplayer.

Spinner, however, has already gone through an arc where he was dissatisfied with his reasons for joining the league and didn't believe he belonged with the rest of the group. He didn't have anything to love like Toga. He didn't know yet he wanted friends he could trust like Twice already did. He doesn't have a strong backstory motivation like Compress, or Dabi or even knows what he wants out of society. However, the entirety of MVA is Spinner letting himself be changed because of his interaction with the group.

Spinner failed at life, his quirk is worthless and only good for sticking to walls. He also internalized the idea that he himself was a failure, and locked himself inside believing he couldn't accomplish anything on his own. Spinner says he has nothing he loves, and nothing he wants to do. Not only that he feels unloved and unwanted. However, Spinner finds something to love in Shigaraki, even if he can't find a strong sense of individualism and still believes himself to be worthless he becomes motivated to help others. Spinner, the most normal person in the group with the most worthless quirk, becomes the greatest help to Shigaraki, basically once he gets over himself and his preconceived notions of himself. Because, you don't actually have to be a special person or have a strong quirk to be a hero, you have to reach out a hand.

The same way Spinner was won over by the League, Dabi has yet to be won over. However, if that does happen, it's probably going to look like Spinner's arc. Dabi antagonizes Spinner a lot, but they actually have more in common than they do differences. They both have failure quirks, while Dabi has an overwhelming fire quirk he wasn't allowed to use, Spinner is literally just a gecko. They both also were labeled as disappointments and given up on, Enji gave up on Touya, Spinner never had any potential from the start and locked himself away in his room. However, their paths so far have been opposites, Spinner let Shigaraki reach him and became a part of the group, Dabi at every possible opportunity insists he's doing this all alone. He takes every chance he can to separate himself from others. If Dabi's arc is going to be a mirror to Shoto's arc eventually, then someone has to reach him and convince him he can't do this all on his own, and Dabi can only truly find himself when he's part of the group once more. After all, so far Dabi is the one most resistant to change. Toga's goal has changed, Shigaraki's changed, Spinner has changed, even Compress now admits that while they're just a gang of thieves that he cares more about everyone else's dreams than his own. Dabi is still nursing a ten-year grudge against Endeavor and doing everything he can to take him down on his own because he hasn't let the group in. And he won't improve or change until he does let others in.

5. Spinner and Shigaraki

I love Compress but I'm skipping over him because his arc hasn't been elaborated on yet. If you want a quick summary though, both Spinner and Compress didn't believe the group to be anything more than a gathering of selfish criminals, however, both of them changed because they wanted to see Shigaraki's dream come true. Not only was Shigaraki the one who inspired both of them to change, but also Compress is the one who first sees how close Spinner is to Shigaraki more than anyone else in the group was.

He also sacrifices himself BECAUSE he's come to realize that what he wants more than his own dreams is to see everyone else's dreams come true. I know Compress's backstory is rushed as all hell, but it almost... almost... works because Compress isn't actually doing this because he's Oji Harima's grandson. His motivation changed a long time ago, he just didn't realize it until he was about to lose the league.

There are a few more parallels, they're both dropouts. It's implied that Compress was literally just a retired and failed stage magician before he decided to become a villain. Hopefully we'll become more on that later because the idea of Compress sucking in showbiz so he decided to follow his grandfather's legacy is really awesome. Spinner was a Neet before he saw Stain on television. They also both have more minor quirks, Compress just shrinks people, Spinner sticks to things. They both also are characters who don't seem important at first, but consistently hover around in the background constantly making sure everyone in the group is okay. Compress calls to check up on people, he talks to Dabi a lot, he tries to keep up with everybody in a melee, it's the little things he does that make Compress same for Spinner. They're both cosplaying as legendary villains who are greater than they are, Stein is cosplaying his grandfather, Spinner is cosplaying Stain, but it's unknown whether Compress really cares that much about his grandfather's ideals, I think he cares about the league more. Compress and Spinner are also people who question and try to understand things, Compress lectures the kids that they had their ideals handed down to them for adult, Compress realizes Spinner's importance to Shigaraki before Spinner even did, Compress and Spinner also both try to understand other people's dreams because they're lacking in their own. Spinner doesn't even have a dream, but he's the one who listened to Shigaraki's dream first.

Now it's been directly said by canon that Spinner and Shigaraki's connection is the most developed, and they are the closest to one another. By developed I mean, it changed over time, when it started out they had almost nothing to do with one another. Spinner was just a rank and file league member that Shigaraki used on the hideout raid. They didn't even get a character introduction scene like Shigarki did with Dabi and Toga.

However, Spinner and Shigaraki's characters are extremely closely tied together. Shigaraki's like the main character of the league, his backstories parallel everyone else's, including the main character of the entire story Deku. He's the one who makes the plans, goes through training arcs, he's the one who the league unites around. However, Spinner actually has all of that too. I just spent a very long time showing how Spinner despite not having an overly complicated backstory has strong parallels to everyone in the league. If Shigaraki is the main character, then Spinner is the everyman / the perspective character, hence why he's the narrator of MVA. Shigaraki is a person of extraordinary circumstance, the symbol of society's oppression who everyone in the league deepy relates to because he's suffered the same way that they have and he accepts them. Whereas, Spinner has suffered because of Hero Society too, he's more like a normal guy who makes an effort to understand everyone around him.

However, Deku wasn't saved by his love interest, or even his childhood friend who is apparently his destined rival, he was saved by Iida trying his best to keep up with him.

Spinner and Shigaraki are both the emotional core of the league in different ways. The league all respects Shigaraki, they rally around his ideas, his dreams are what inspire everybody. However, more and more it's looking like Spinner, ordinary, average, Spinner is working to build emotional connections to everyone in a much more normal way. He talks to Toga and tries to understand her love. He even consoles Toga when twice is gone. He challenges Shigaraki directly to his face. Compress who is always sort of watching the league in the background and checking up on them in little ways notices how hard that Spinner is trying to take care of Shigaraki.

Shigaraki accepts people at their worst and gives them a place to belong, but I think by Spinner's efforts to get to know and understand others, we as an audience are shown how humanizing of a presence that Spinner is on everyone else. Spinner, just being a normal guy, brings out the fact that the rest of the league despite their extraordinary circumstances are deep down just normal people to, who want to be loved normally, and live normally. Spinner literally wakes up Shigaraki, because he remembered the one time that he opened up in front of all of them, and cares enough to try to understand Shigaraki's hurt feelings and what he cares about.

If anything from the last arc in the manga, we're shown at great length, how understanding, reaching out, it all takes effort and it's not as flashy as defeating a villain or rescuing someone from a natural disaster.

Spinner is so important to Shigaraki, because while Shigaraki has given everyone in the group a place where they can be individuals, Shigaraki hasn't realized he himself can be an individual yet. He ultimately, shares the same character flaw as Deku. It's because he's decided that he's going to carry out his dreams for the sake of the league and to create a better future for them, that Shigaraki no longer cares what happens to himself, or about his own future. Everyone talks about Dabi's suicidal nature, but this is something that Shigaraki is challenged on over and over again. What are your motivations. What are your reasons. What do you want to accomplish. He always responds with nothing. There's nothing that he wants, there's nothing worth living for, he only wants to destroy and make a better world for the people who are around him. Shigaraki is the most thoroughly dehumanized character, to the point where he just straight up accepts "god of destruction" because that is at least an identity. Shigaraki needs Spinner and his normalizing influence, because Shigaraki can't see himself as a normal person.

Shigaraki shares the same character flaw as Deku, he does everything for the sake of others, with no regard to himself, which leads to extreme bouts of self-harming and fighting alone. Shigaraki faced off against Endeavor, and basically all the heroes alone even though he did call for backup. However, even before that Shigaraki made the decision to get dangerous risky surgery that would be like hell, because he believed deep down he wasn't good enough alone. Shigaraki just does not care about himself and is unable to see himself as an individual, which is exactly why he needs someone to care for him and see him that way.

Shigaraki's greatest challenge to date is that he's been dehumanized so thoroughly, and lost sight of himself to the point where he's lost even his own body autonomy. When Shigaraki is battling for possession of his body as AFO attempts to take total control and make him into a symbol again, denying him his personhood, we're set up directly with Spinner being the one who reminds us that Shigaraki is just a person, who likes video games, and gets along with his friends. It's Spinner who notices right away that AFO is different from Shigaraki and challenges him the same way that he challenged Shigaraki directly in the My VIllain Academia arc. This is all set up most likely, for Spinner being the one to reach out a hand the same way IIDA did, because what Shigaraki needs the most right now, is not a hero who will save him, but rather a normal person who will understand him and remind him that deep down he was just a normal kid too before all of this happened. What Shigaraki is most in need of is a hand that will reach out to him, and Spinner has already done this once putting Nana's hand back on his face when he couldn't wake up, but what he's failed to realize is that it's his own scaly lizard hands that should be doing the reaching out.

#mha meta #lov meta #league of villains #league of villains meta #spinner #shigaraki #toga himiko #higuchi iguchi #shigaraki tomura #dabi #touya todoroki #twice #jin bubaigawara #compress