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arita-hello · 1 year
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清浄野菜普及研究所さんのカット野菜パッケージシリーズ
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jisungsdaydreamer · 5 months
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Anti-Romantic | CHAPTER THREE | 18+
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«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «TAGLIST»
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DRUNK IN LOVE
“I haven’t been the same since we met.”
«PREVIOUS CHAPTER» · «SERIES MASTERLIST»
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Pairing: Hyunjin x Fem!Reader Genre: Non idol au, fluff, smut, romcom, drama, opposites attract Chapter Warnings: explicit sexual content, switch!Hyunjin, switch!reader, mentions of emotionally abusive ex, mutual fantasizing, sexual fantasy sequence (dom!reader, sub!Hyunjin), cumeating/cumplay, masturbation (f), heavy insecurity and self deprecation, oral (f receiving), rough sex, degradation, titfucking, pussy slapping, edging/orgasm denial, creampie, unprotected sex, misuse of alcohol (reader is a very sad drunk), both of them are actual idiots that will make you want to to scream ⚠️not beta-read yet, but will be updated with the edits soon⚠️ Word Count: 20.5k
P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡
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The first thing Hyunjin understands when he comes to is how disgusting his mouth tastes. The faint, bitter taste of alcohol lingering on his tongue brings the memory of the night prior’s bad decisions; he’s never gone a single day in his life without brushing his teeth at night, in addition to the rest of his extensive pre-bedtime routine. The lack of moisture that pulls at his skin like a scratchy draft has him reaching for his nightstand, from where he’s burrowed in blankets like a corn dog. For a few embarrassing minutes, Hyunjin puts up a valiant effort trying to locate his special night repair face lotion solely with his flailing palm, before he’s rudely interrupted.
“Wake the fuck up, Sleeping Beauty.” 
The strangely familiar, feminine yet husky voice brings him hurtling back into reality. Cautiously, Hyunjin retracts his arm and opens his eyes; the blinding light that meets them does not help his splitting headache that rivals the shaking faultlines of San Andreas. 
When he finally adjusts to the brightness, he realizes that he’s in a room that’s definitely not his. The vast SolarSmart windows that would have already dimmed to match his sleepy blinking have been replaced by an antique bay window. Instead of the aristocratic fragrance of his favorite Le Labo candle, the air is thick with the smell of maple syrup. And his beloved Egyptian cotton sheets are gone in favor of a sherpa set that has him sweating in the year-round heat, which isn’t helped by the fact that this place isn’t humidity controlled.
“I’ve always thought of myself as more of a Rapunzel,” Hyunjin groans, stretching and tilting his head up to meet Lisa’s eyes. “You know, great hair and all.”
“Ha ha.” Lisa rolls her eyes, trying to maintain her expression of annoyance, but Hyunjin catches the hint of a smile on her lips; it’s inevitable, trying to fight the effect of his charms, especially when he’s just woken up all adorable and rumpled by sleep. “It’s almost noon, I thought I’d wake you up.”
“Noon?!” Hyunjin flies into a sitting position, frozen in an unfamiliar panic and unable to think of what to do next. By this time in his usual daily routine, he would have been enjoying a light lunch in his office while journaling in his gratitude notebook. Fuck, his stomach calls out for a nice balsamic arugula salad, maybe with a freshly-squeezed orange juice on the side to help with the regrettable effects of alcohol.
Lisa coughs lightly, bending down to pick up a discarded collection of clothing strewn on the floor, before handing it over to Hyunjin. The nausea rises up in Hyunjin’s stomach as he sifts through the clothes that he recognizes as his own. And then, as if in sudden remembrance, he looks down at himself and realizes that he’s completely naked except for his Gucci boxers. Horrified, he looks over at Lisa, but before he can say anything, she cuts him off.
“No. We didn’t have sex.” Lisa avoids Hyunjin’s eyes, picking at one of her burgundy-painted nails. She seems strangely skittish, in stark comparison to her confident, nearly feline-like mannerisms last night.
“Then what happened last night?” Hyunjin slips on his shirt and slides out of bed to pull his pants on, resolving to get dressed already right there; at this point, there is no more mortifying himself.
Lisa shrugs, an embarrassed blush overtaking her features. “We did some shots at the bar, before I suggested you come over for better drinks, so we could, well, you know. Hook-up. But you really did drink more. A lot more. And just as you took off your clothes, you blacked-out.”
“Blacked-out?” Hyunjin’s whole body feels racked with disbelief. And yet, the memories come fading back in: the botched matchmaking event, him retreating to drink away his sorrows, the handsy taxi ride back to Lisa’s place. “I barely even get tipsy.”
“It seemed like there was a lot on your mind last night. I don’t know what to say to you right now.” Lisa scratches her wrist lightly, as if trying to occupy herself while waiting for Hyunjin to get the hell out of her home. But the movement draws Hyunjin’s attention to her hand, where a fat, glimmering diamond rests on her ring finger, one that wasn’t there the previous night.
Realization flows in, ghastly and unwarranted. He clears his throat, tossing his jacket over his shoulders. “And you’re fucking married.”
Lisa freezes, the blood completely draining out of her face as her lips go paper thin. “I can explain.”
Hyunjin tilts his head with fresh resolve, taking his phone and wallet from where they’re fortunately perched on top of the nightstand. “Nope. I’m getting out of here. Looks like you’ve got some personal things going—” 
“Hyunjin, I’m not married. Please, just—” Lisa quickly crosses in front of him, blocking the doorway, looking at him with pleading eyes. “I’m engaged.”
“Big difference that makes,” Hyunjin mutters, crossing his arms. Nevertheless, he waits for her to speak, softening when he catches the glimpse of pain flash in her eyes.
“My fiancé. He’s… I- I know he’s not working late all those nights, like he says he is.” Lisa exhales shakily, closing her eyes. “I know who you are. The Love Doctor. Initially, I thought I would talk to Hoseok, maybe book us an appointment with you. But then I saw you at the bar, and I don’t know, it felt like a sign.”
“And you wanted to make him hurt like he hurt you,” Hyunjin finishes for her. He’d had clients like Lisa, the vengeful wives looking to bite back at the ones who wronged them— he just never imagined that he would have almost been a part of such a plot. 
She nods guiltily. “And I also just wanted to forget everything, even if it was going to be temporary. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it, so when you fell asleep, I was kind of relieved.”
Hyunjin snorts and snaps back with no real malice in his words, just a hint of mirth. “Glad me blacking out worked well for you.”
Lisa shoots him a tiny, sheepish grin. “To be fair, I don’t think you really wanted to go through with it. When you were drunk, you kept repeating the same name over and over again.”
He stills at her response, remembering no such event. But of course it makes sense; there’s a certain someone lingering in his thoughts 24/7, and she has no plan of leaving him anytime soon. “I guess.”
If she notices the immediate color in Hyunjin’s cheeks, Lisa says nothing. She just shuffles to the side, letting Hyunjin exit the bedroom before leading him to the main entrance of her apartment. “Again, I’m sorry about everything, Hyunjin. I shouldn’t have tried to use you like that. I really am sorry.”
Hyunjin accepts her apology, a strange mix of sympathy and understanding unfurling in his stomach. After all, he tried doing the same thing, to find someone else to warm his bed and take his mind off of the one person he really wanted. It was a bad night for both of them. “You’re still welcome to find me anytime.”
“Thanks a lot.” Lisa gives him a smile, before it fades into something more playful, one that fits her better than any expression he’s seen on her so far. “If I’m being honest, though, you're not really my type.”
“You know exactly what I mean. Call my secretary and book an appointment if you ever want one. With or without your fiancé.” Hyunjin scoffs, glaring at Lisa over his shoulder as he walks away. “And I’m everyone’s type.”
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When his Uber finally pulls up in front of Oasis, Hyunjin hurries up to his penthouse and tries to make the most out of the rest of the cruelly shortened day— after a quick shower to wash off the stench of alcohol and pine air freshener.
Hunched over a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch at his kitchen island, Hyunjin swipes through all of the pop-ups on his laptop, going through everything that he’s missed in the time during which he’d dissociated from all common sense. Everyday, Wonyoung makes sure Hyunjin stays up-to-date on all of his engagements by adding all of his event invitations to his Google calendar; Hyunjin spends a good few minutes clicking through everything, accepting all of his upcoming meetings. He’s been slacking off at work lately, skipping team lunches and sitting out on evening debriefs— but that’s all about to change, because Hyunjin needs to get his life back together again. And that includes making things right with you. 
“Want to pull up for a quick afternoon appointment?” Hyunjin mouths out loud. He then makes a face and deletes the letter, groaning out loud. “This isn’t a high school date…”
After a few more failed attempts at trying to write a breezy but appropriate check-in email to you, Hyunjin resolves to call his no-nonsense secretary, knowing that the Velma to his Daphne would help him rediscover his suavity again. Maybe she could even catch him up on today’s SeoulSpark gossip that he’d missed, if they had time. But he underestimates her temper when she finally picks up after the fourth ring:
“Where the fuck were you?” Wonyoung screeches into the phone, making Hyunjin wince and pull his iPhone away from his ear. “Do you know how worried sick I was? How many times have I called you? You didn’t even show up to the brunch you had with the Carters! I had to practically beg Beyoncé not to drop us, only after promising her and Jay-Z five free sessions! I hope you’re ready to deal with the company's losses!”
“I’m sorry, I know, I know.” Hyunjin whines. “I know I’ve been really sidetracked, but I promise I’m making things right.”
“You’d better, Hyunjin.” Wonyoung bites, before taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. “I want you over at SeoulSpark on Monday at 6 AM, sharp. We will be going over each and every single client, and then making a game plan for the next five months. You have a meeting with Dr. Jeon, and then Mr. Jung. And Ms. Y/L/N requested an appointment last night, and you can most certainly afford it right now, so you’ll also be meeting with her. Respectfully, I suggest you get your ass over here as soon as possible.”
“Yes, yes— wait.” Hyunjin perks up, dropping his spoon into the soggy bowl of cereal, not minding the tiny droplets of milk that splash up at him. “Did you say Y/N?”
“What’s the matter?”
He shakes his head, dumping the remnants of his meal into the sink. “Nothing. I’ll see you!”
The slow drag of the days until the next week turns into a blur on Monday morning. Hyunjin pulls on a crisp white Celine t-shirt to go with a flowy pair of pleated trousers from the back of his closet, the kind of casual, chic outfit tailored that can always uplift any day. As a final touch, Hyunjin shrugs on a simple yet effective cardigan and dabs some cologne onto his wrists. 
During the drive over to SeoulSpark, Hyunjin reflects on the fact that he’d be seeing you in just a few hours, even though he just saw you a few days ago. When you could barely look Hyunjin in the eye after his colossal blunder. When you’d run away to be far, far away from him, somewhere he couldn’t hurt you again. But he wouldn’t let that happen again, ever. You’re far too precious, and he doesn’t plan on losing you anytime soon, even if you’ll never know what you truly mean to him.
He sighs, parking Cami in her specially reserved spot in the SeoulSpark garage, before taking off his shades and heading inside. As soon as he steps through the sliding glass doors, he can barely muster up a ‘hello’ to his receptionist, Felix, before Wonyoung pounces on him. In the blink of an eye, Wonyoung has dragged him up to his office, where she sits him down at his desk and begins to ferociously rattle off his to-do list for the day.
Luckily, he’s saved by Dr. Jeon, who raps on the open door with a wry smile on his face. “Can I come in, Wonyoung, or are you still busy disciplining Hyunjin?”
Wonyoung huffs at him, before picking up her tablet and making her way out. “He’s all yours. Make it snappy, though. He has a full schedule.”
“Yes, Ms. Jang.” Dr. Jeon says with mock seriousness that makes Wonyoung shoot him a murderous glare, before making himself comfortable on the sofa and turning to Hyunjin. “Damn, where’d you buy this thing? I could take a fat nap here.”
“West Elm.” Hyunjin is unable to keep the smile off of his face. “What’s up, Jungkook?”
“Well, this is kind of an awkward question, if you don’t mind…” Jungkook shoots him a hopeful look, and Hyunjin gives him a nod to continue. “I was just wondering about the company policy about dating clients? It isn’t clear whether we’re allowed to or not, but I know it’s a little iffy.”
Hyunjin sits up in surprise, mind immediately going to you. The SeoulSpark guidelines on dating clients were never explicit to begin with, but it was kind of unsaid that dating clients is out of the question, especially when it could jeopardize business. Of course he’d thought about this before, on the nights when he had been feeling extra delusional over the thought of having you all to himself. But it could never be real.
“What’s this all about, Jungkook?” Hyunjin shifts in his seat warily. “We generally advise against it, even after clients decide to end their memberships. It’s messy territory, one that we try to avoid.”
Jungkook clears his throat. “I mean, she’s not even my client. I think she’s one of yours, actually. She caught my eye at the matchmaking event yesterday— she was wearing this sexy blue sundress. Y/N was her name, I think? I thought, I don't know, that I could maybe ask her out or something? If she didn’t have any matches?”
Oh, hell no.
Hyunjin’s blood immediately goes cold. He likes Jungkook— a lot, actually. He’s a good colleague and friend, and a great drinking buddy when he feels up to it. Jungkook has tagged along with him and Seungmin quite often, whenever they decide to go out to find someone to warm their beds for the night. The topic of women has never been foreign between them, especially in a setting like SeoulSpark. But his woman? Absolutely not. 
Even if you aren’t actually his, Hyunjin would rather break Jungkook’s annoyingly perfect nose than see his hands all over you, and that’s saying something, because Hyunjin hates killing even mosquitos. Jungkook watching you laugh over a plate of pasta. Jungkook helping you into his car. Jungkook kissing you while he brings heaven to you in his bed. All of the things that Hyunjin should get to do.
Technically, it wouldn’t be the end of the world for SeoulSpark if Jungkook dated you, especially since you aren’t his client— but it would be for Hyunjin. Hell if Jeon Jungkook, the notorious player of SeoulSpark, would have you in his stead.
“No.”
Jungkook frowns. “But—”
“I said no, Dr. Jeon. Don’t make me repeat myself,” Hyunjin snaps coldly, barely fazed by that uncharacteristic iciness in his own tone. “Please see yourself out, and come to me when you have something actually useful to discuss.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, running his hands through his hair. “You seem to be in a mood today, Hyunjin. But whatever, I’ll back off. See you later, I guess.”
Hyunjin knows he should feel bad as he watches Jungkook shrink out his view, but all he has is a vicious sense of satisfaction. That’ll teach him— Christ, is he jealous? Hwang Hyunjin doesn’t get jealous. The world is an oyster, and you, his shimmering pearl. He really is so screwed.
The next few hours are a blur, as Hyunjin does his best to be attentive as he sits through meetings with his executive team, including the one with his Chief Marketing Officer, Jung Hoseok, to discuss potential brand partnerships that would be good for SeoulSpark. He deserves an award for not falling asleep during the very essential Zoom call to confirm whether he should allow his face to be stamped onto a cat food brand (the answer was no, he’s forever a dog person).
By the time the sun has dipped below the horizon, Hyunjin has finished meeting with his second-to-last client of the day, Yang Jeongin, that brazen college student who had talked back to him during his TED talk. Poor guy had been through so much, really, with a history of being dumped, the latest offender being a cheating girlfriend who had effectively ruined his outlook on life. But over the past few months, Hyunjin had been able to chip through that broken exterior to find a brilliant young man in need of just a push in the right direction. He reminds Hyunjin of you so much.
“Thanks, Hyun. I’ll see you next week.” Jeongin waves goodbye at Hyunjin, who’s already rifling through his desk drawer for his compact mirror and breath mints.
Hyunjin flashes him a quick smile. “You too, Jeongin.”
As quick as Jeongin has left, the feeling of being alone washes away when you step into the room, knocking the wind out of Hyunjin’s lungs, as always. Today, you’ve foregone those usual pinks, a constant that Hyunjin had loved so much about your outfits. Nevertheless, you’re stunning; the sea-green floral maxi dress floats delicately around your ankles, and Hyunjin has to mentally kick himself to stop staring at the dainty line of buttons crossed along the ruched bust of the bodice.
“There you are!” Hyunjin beams like the sun, the stress of the day’s burdens melting away.
But instead of getting all cute and flustered at his theatrics like you always do, you give him a thin smile and sit down on the couch. “Hey, Hyunjin.”
Hyunjin tries not to let the concern flood into his logic, but it’s impossible, when it comes to you. However, he makes a valiant effort in crossing his legs and trying to hide the turbulence of emotions beneath his skin by plastering a placid expression onto his face. “So… want to talk about last week?”
“There’s not much to talk about.” You shrug and avoid Hyunjin’s gaze, looking out the window with a forlorn glint in your eyes. 
“Darling, please.” Hyunjin breaks. He gets up from behind his desk and folds himself into the space next to you, failing to maintain his impartiality. He hates to see you like this, like you so steadfastly believe that you’re alone, when he’s been here for you the entire time. “Open up to me.”
You look directly into Hyunjin’s eyes, prompting a shiver to run down his spine. He wishes you could look at him like that while forcing him down onto his knees. “I had sex with Han Jisung.” 
Of everything, hearing that was not on Hyunjin’s 2023 bingo card. For a moment, he just gapes at you in shock. As your dating coach, he never thought you’d be ready to become intimate with someone so soon, especially the guy who made you run off in horror just a few days prior. And as the person who is secretly in love with you, he could never actually imagine you with anyone except for him. Yet, he now has the wonderful, vivid image of you and Han Jisung getting it on. How nice. 
And then comes the complete fury. But before he can act upon it, throwing aside his zen policy to bestow you with an aggressive line of questioning— that he is absolutely not entitled to, at all— you hold up your hand, shutting him up.
“And I think we should stop seeing each other.”
In that moment, nothing but utter horror slashes through every fiber of Hyunjin’s being. Of all of the scenarios he’d gone through in his mind, the worst case is actually happening— goddamnit, universe. What would the point of life be if you weren’t in his, anymore? “Are you… are you breaking up with me?”
You give Hyunjin a pitiful smile that makes him want to go crawl into a hole somewhere and die. “That’s one way to put it, I guess. But I’m your client. This is a good sign.”
That’s not all you are. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This can’t be real. 
“You know what I mean!”
“Shouldn’t you be happy for me?” You purse your lips. “I guess I’ve finally moved on from Jisung, now that I’ve slept with someone else. I can finally go forth in the world without his shadow holding me back. I’m completely over it.”
Hyunjin closes his eyes, lightly massaging his temples using the stress-prevention technique that his old masseuse taught him before she moved back to Thailand. It doesn’t work. Fuck, is he sweating? “Well, I think you’re not completely over it. This is a step, not the destination. Having sex with a guy you just met is definitely not what we programmed into your love life GPS— we’re still driving! Besides, you still have a month of sessions left on your contract!”
“Uhhh, okay.” You give Hyunjin a puzzled look that makes him cringe inwardly— fuck his fruity metaphors. “Either way, I just don’t think I need your help anymore, to be honest. But I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
“No.” Hyunjin shakes his head stubbornly, resolve set deep inside of him. If you wanted him to get all technical and make himself sound like a pretentious prick, then fine. Anything to keep you from leaving. “As the person who you have entrusted to provide you with a professional opinion, I do not accept your rationale for ending our contract. It’s sudden, and you’d just be wasting your own money because everything was prepaid. It doesn’t make sense for you to go like this, don’t you think? Talk to me.”
And Hyunjin sees you pause, the doubt written across your gorgeous features. You put on a little eyeliner today, and when your eyes crinkle in doubt, the winged ends of the liner downturn, making you look impossibly cute. Hyunjin wants nothing more than to kiss that pout on your lips— not smooth it away, but make it his, somehow, to watch you look down at him with that same expression when he’s on his knees for you.
He waits with bated breath, until you finally throw your hands up, relenting. “Okay. Alright. But only because I have a month left. After that, I won’t be renewing the contract.”
You grumpily sit back down on the sofa, and Hyunjin has to clench his jaw to keep from grinning like an idiot. “So, tell me. What’s gotten you so worked up?”
You sigh, looking away from Hyunjin as you toy with one of the beads on the skirt of your dress. You take your time thinking, and Hyunjin doesn’t rush you, wanting you to be as authentic as possible when providing him with an answer. “There’s this guy…”
Hyunjin then feels all of the blood drain out of face right then. If the abrupt announcement of your departure from SeoulSpark’s services had not sent him into a panic, then this definitely did. He sees that unsure yet determined look in your eye, the kind he’s observed appearing whenever you have a strong opinion to share, the thoughts of other people be damned.
“Who… who is it?” He manages to spit out, thinking back to his go-to metaphoric fork and stabbing himself in the thigh with it, over and over again, to keep himself in place. “Someone from the matchmaking event?”
“It’s not any of those guys, no. You probably don’t even know him. Some guy from work,” you explain quickly, prompting a fresh wave of confusion to wash over Hyunjin. “But that’s not the point. He’s, um, always on my mind. I can’t stop thinking about him, no matter how much I don’t want to. Because, for obvious reasons, I can’t be with him. And I don’t want to hurt him, because the pain from the past— from Jisung— is still there, even if I don’t love him anymore. I don’t trust myself with love.”
Love? Is that what this is? Do you love whoever this useless idiot is? 
Hyunjin’s thoughts cower in betrayal, even though you owe him absolutely nothing. He shakes them away, focusing on everything else you’ve just confided in him with. “It’s okay to not be completely over the past. You might never be, and that’s okay, because what you went through was traumatic. That kind of hurt sticks, and you’re strong for trying to move forward. But you can’t let the fear of the unknown stop you.”
You shake your head. “But it’s too significant to ignore, that fear. My worst nightmare is hurting him like Jisung did to me. What if I end up doing that, Hyunjin? What if I leave him, like Jisung left me?”
“Don’t compare yourself to that piece of shit,” Hyunjin says sharply, making you jump a little. Normally, he’d apologize for coming on too strong, but he couldn’t. Not when you talk about yourself like that. “And it’s just a risk you’re going to have to take. And if he’s really worth it, then he’ll stay by your side no matter what.” 
I would. I wouldn’t ever fucking leave you. 
Before you can say anything, Hyunjin keeps going, unable to restrain himself from asking this next question, because he has to know. He has to know if you truly mean it. “So, the question is, do you think he is? Is he worth it?”
“I love who I am because of him,” you state, and with the way your voice doesn’t even waver, Hyunjin knows it to be completely true. “I’m ten times less pessimistic than I usually am. He makes me feel like a morning person, even though I’m not. And I actually want to do more with my life, see everything it has to offer. He makes me a better person, but I never feel forced to do anything for his attention, for the way he cares.”
“He- he sounds wonderful,” Hyunjin responds, and he’s trying— he really is— but he just doesn’t believe he can be genuine, not now. Not when he feels his heart breaking inside, not when he knows he’s a selfish bastard who should be celebrating you. And what did he fucking expect? That someone wouldn’t see a diamond and pick it up, keeping it for themselves? He’s so, so stupid. 
“He is.” You give him a meaningful look that makes his head spin. Now, what does that mean? Hyunjin doesn’t have it in him to be an interpreter today, strolling across the shoreline rocks of your mind, trying to decipher what today’s tides bring. It’s his literal job to know what you’re thinking, and yet, today his mind is completely clear of any sense of logic.
“He makes me feel seen, even if he may never feel the same,” you continue, biting your lip. “He’s the most beautiful person I know.”
“I’m not supposed to say this, but anyone who wouldn’t return your feelings is a total idiot.” Hyunjin smiles at the way you shoot him a skeptical look. He wants to at least try to convey even a single sign that tells you that he’s glad you’ve found someone good, someone that could make you happy— what he could never do for you himself. “And I’m glad, Y/N. It’s a good thing we still have a month, because I can tell that there’s still some unease on your end, because you’re clearly holding yourself back. I just want the best for you.”
“I know,” you sigh. “I’m sorry if I was making a scene. I just so want to be done with all of this fixing. I just want to be ready to let go of all of that baggage, and I guess I was in a rush to do so.”
“No, no. Don’t apologize. Trust me, I get the feeling, more than you know.” Hyunjin reaches across and places his hand on yours, trying to relax you. “It’s okay to want to move on. It’s okay to be frustrated. And it’s okay to want someone. Let yourself be happy, because ultimately, you’re the only one who can control that, no one else.”
For the first time during your meeting today, you break out into a smile, and Hyunjin has to blink to readjust him to the sight. It’s like a rainbow has cut through a stormy sky, joining in a perfect Yin and Yang. Hyunjin loves all of you, both the color and the tempest, because together, they make you who you are. He wouldn’t change you for the world; all he’s ever done for you was try to make you realize that yourself.
“You are such a gift, Hyunjin,” you say fondly, and Hyunjin has to remind himself that it’s because you see him as a friend, as a confidante. It would never be in the way he completely wants it to be, and he’ll have to make his peace with that, for you.
“I know. All I’m missing is a big pink bow,” Hyunjin jokes, plastering a smile onto his face. For the first time ever, he wishes you would walk out of his office, taking with you your infectious laugh and incandescent gaze. You can’t be here when he falls apart like he so badly needs to. 
You laugh, thankfully not sensing his internal turmoil. “Alright, Hyunjin. I have to get going. But I’ll see you next week?”
He nods, rising as you stand and turn for the door. “Of course. Have a good one, darling.”
“Same goes for you.” You reach up and give his shoulder a little squeeze, before you’re walking away, too soon and yet, not fast enough.
From where you touched him over his cardigan, Hyunjin’s skin burns with desire. But it isn’t enough to keep him from clumsily shutting the door closed behind him as he stumbles back inside of his office. He screws his eyes shut and tries to rapidly think of a list of his favorite things. Pink roses. Sequined Versace blazers. Puppies. Monet paintings.
But he should know by now that such sorrow is inevitable. It was written in his fate, the moment he set his eyes and heart upon you, knowing he would never get that happy ending. After all, he’s the Love Doctor, not a miracle worker. He knows this to be true especially when he feels a dampness on his cheeks and thinks it to be some kind of bewitched rain that’s able to fall inside his office. It’s only when he looks into his compact mirror that he realizes that he’s crying, broken and hopelessly gone for you.
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That did not go well. You walked into SeoulSpark with a plan and had promptly failed, when Hyunjin decided to persuade you into staying. But you gave in to his pretty eyes and assuaging words, conveniently forgetting about the half-hour long promises you made with yourself in the morning. 
You were supposed to end your contract, regardless of whether you would be wasting your money or not. That would have been a small price to pay for the pain of love. And you know you’re right, because you start to cry during your shameful walk through the parking lot.
You don’t know what it is that made you open up so profoundly to Hyunjin, past the point where it was safe to conceal your feelings for him. But you just had to keep speaking, going so far as to describe Hyunjin as the object of all of your agitation and pretending like it was someone else that he had no idea of. You’re a fraud, and your only consolation is that Hyunjin sees you so platonically that he probably would never catch onto your feelings. After all, in what world would someone like you being with someone of his caliber ever make any sense? And it’s ironic, really, that you’ve fallen for him, the person who is there to help you find someone else to spend lonely nights with.
After unlocking your car, you collapse into the front seat, letting all of your emotions out for a good few minutes into the night. When the sides of your face finally begin to dry, you open your eyes with a groan, turning the key in the ignition and driving back home. 
You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, because that godforsaken networking party was looming sooner in the future than you’d like, and you still had to buy something to wear. Your current wardrobe was much more vibrant than it had been just a few months ago, the jeans and plaid blazers hidden behind fluttery sundresses and silky skirts. However, it was all far too casual for the heightened class that you knew the event would require, and therefore, you’d recruited Yeonjun to help you shop, with the promise of all of his meals being paid for the next day.
As soon as you get home, you toss your keys onto the little side table next to the doorway with a huff, knocking your heels off and not bothering to arrange them neatly back onto your shoe stand. With the efficiency of a carpenter ant on a mission, you march into your bathroom and slip out of that god-awful dress, changing into a pair of soft pink pajamas with a magenta heart pattern printed all over them. The set had caught your eye as you were strolling through Costco the other day, a little more expensive than you’d like, but they reminded you of Hyunjin, so into the cart they went. You could allow yourself this comfort, you tell yourself.
Once freshened up, you head into the kitchen, dumping some leftover pasta into a bowl to heat it up, glowering at the microwave as the seconds tick by far too slowly. And as always, you eat at your crappy dining table, alone. Just this morning, you had been sitting in this same place, brainstorming ways to secure project funding, navigating the path to reviving your old startup, ITEM.
Before Hyunjin, you had ditched the excitement of indulging in work, your passion, for more self-destructive, wasteful behavior. In the past few months, after meeting him, there was this renewed sense of productivity in you— he inspired you, made you ache to find your own success in the world. So even though Mark denied you the opportunity to participate in the upcoming function, you disobeyed him and secretly went through with your own idea anyway, especially after hearing through the office grapevine that a lot of big-name investors would be attending. Somehow, you decided, you would figure out a way to present to them and achieve your dream. It was optimistic, maybe a little foolishly so, but that hadn’t bothered you. 
Today, however, you felt this sense of loss that hadn’t touched you in a while. It was nothing related to work, fortunately, but still, you couldn’t focus, mind wandering to your meeting with Hyunjin at the end of the day. For the first time, the thought of him was hurting you, not motivating you. And it still hurts you, with the way you disinterestedly poke at your fettuccine. 
So when you go to bed that night, touching yourself to the thought of him doesn’t have the same velvety allure to it. No, it’s more of a physiological need that forces its way into your hand that glides down your body. It’s the rabic, animalistic desire that drives the tips of your fingers under the waistband of your shorts. It’s the anguish, the longing, that makes you spread your legs, hips bucking up against the mattress.
You had smiled at him, earlier today, after that short drama you’d exerted, when he calmed you down and placated you with a soft, but commanding tone. You had poured your heart out to him, holding back just his name on the tip of your tongue, and he had listened. And you had feigned being amiable, and he accepted it, when in reality, you were so fucking furious with Hyunjin.
After you paraded into his office like a brat, demanding to end the contract as if you cared nothing as to what he might think, he had still treated you with so much understanding, with a quiet concern. You haven’t lost your temper in a long time now, but Hyunjin never failed to respond so well, so kindly to you. In every way that you were irked, he remained calm and gracious. It makes you inexplicably angry, so much that you just want to scream into the cool Angeles night air, letting the sound reverberate off the crumbling buildings of your shitty neighborhood. You hate how good is to you almost as much as you despise yourself in your absolute lowest moments, moments like these. You don’t want the sensuality of his gaze washing over you, worshiping you. You don’t want to melt into his touch, let him take care of you. You don’t want to fuck him like a lover would— no, you want his tears, you want to ruin him like he has done so easily to you.
You think of Hyunjin and his lovely, lovely mouth. A lip pulled in between his teeth in thought, slightly slick with spit when he licks them before speaking. You want to feel the stretch of them around your fingers as you force them into his mouth, choking him and chasing away his breathy complaints. 
You close your eyes, the image of you working yourself with your fingers fading in favor of imagining Hyunjin doing it for you instead. You, gripping his wrist harshly, pumping Hyunjin’s own fingers into yourself, berating him for not being able to do it well enough on his own. 
Then you’d slap his hands away, pushing him onto your bed and straddle his narrow hips, grinding your dripping pussy onto his thighs while getting off both in the friction and Hyunjin’s pleas for you to ride his cock instead. 
But when you decide to put an end to his torture, it wouldn’t be for his pleasure. You want to fuck Hyunjin hard, fuck him sore, the minuscule gap between your bodies clogged and messy with sweat and a mixture of arousal and saliva, from where you’d spit onto his cock. You want him on his back, staring up at you hopefully as he falls apart, begging you to let him come. You want to refuse him, snap at him and make it mean, but he’ll come anyway, guilt and arousal on his beautiful face. Of course he’ll have to clean up his own mess, sucking obediently on your fingers covered with the come you had retrieved from where it was splattered between your legs. 
And then you’d kiss him, slow and deep, nothing like how you took him apart under the sheets. You’d cup his face and whisper praises, running your hands down his body. Declarations of love would fall from your lips, because no matter how much he worked you up, the truth would never change. 
You finish to that final thought, barely hearing the shameful, wet sounds of you abusing your cunt with your fingers that thrust in and out of yourself wildly. But even though you have already come, you cup your pussy again and run your finger, feather-light, through your folds, imagining it was Hyunjin’s lips placing a kiss there, instead. Imagining that no matter how many spiteful words you spat at him during the time you fucked him, he knew that you would never hate him. You understand, that no matter how enraged you have the potential to be, you will never, ever hate Hyunjin. Because you love him— so much that it hurts.
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“You’d think that my body was made for Gucci, but there’s something about Privé that turns me on so bad.”
You fight the urge to gag as Yeonjun brings the ugly sweatshirt up to his chest, holding it up in front of the mirror in an attempt to model it on his scrawny frame. You briskly snatch it out of his hands and shove it back onto its hanger, grasping your cousin’s hand like a mother and her toddler. 
“Stop talking about brands like you want to fuck them,” you scold him. Yeonjun rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation, but doesn’t try to wriggle out of your hold when you drag him to the women’s section. Sometimes, you feel like you’re an exasperated single parent, toting him around and snapping at him to behave, even though he is barely three years younger than you.
As you enter the evening wear end of the department store, you let go of Yeonjun to sift through the variety of fabrics available. He gleefully bounces around, swishing through the dresses you’re both drowning in and nearly knocking a couple of them off of their racks. But you can’t find it in yourself to chide him again, not when he looks so happy to be here with you. Not that you would ever let him know that you have the capacity to be soft when it comes to him.
“This beats working on job applications,” Yeonjun sighs, sticking his arm through an armhole on a particularly gaudy tea gown. You snicker at how the satin pools beneath his underarms, making him look like a child cosplaying in their mother’s old outfits.
“How’s senior year? I haven’t even been asking you about school, lately.” The last part is less of a rationale for your question to him, and more of a surprised self-proclamation on your end. You can’t remember the last time you ever listened to Yeonjun complain about his ancient professors and weird roommate. The thought fills you with a certain sense of regret; you might not have a lot, but Yeonjun has always been there for you. Most of the time, he annoys you to no end, but his constant presence reminds you that you’re never alone.
The playfulness melts out of Yeonjun’s demeanor, a sight to see with someone who is always so easy-going, never taking life seriously. But you see the somber look in his eyes as he turns to gaze at you critically. “You’ve got a lot going on, I know that.”
You flush, mind automatically going to Hyunjin. Outside of the slice of your day in which you are truly focused on work, the rest of your time goes into dreaming about the attainable object of your fantasies. Eat, sleep, work, and think about Hyunjin. “I— yeah. Work’s been crazy. And reopening ITEM, as well. But that’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”
Yeonjun gives you a wry little smile, foxy and sly. “Work. Sure. Definitely not a certain sexy ass dating coach, right?”
For a guy that presents himself to be so unendingly superficial, Yeonjun has the ability to read people in the snap of a finger. You don’t understand why he tries to act so vapid when he has such a capacity— if you had such a power, you’d use it to no end. 
Your cheeks flush, embarrassingly evident. “Got me there, but I’ve already reached a resolution about him. I’ll go through with the rest of the contract, pull away gradually, and then stop seeing him. Easy.”
Except it is not easy, and both of you know it. Yeonjun rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “I just don’t get it. Why are you so down bad for him? He’s pretty, don’t get me wrong, but there are a lot of pretty people. He’s the guy who’s supposed to be setting you up with other people. Like, you’re not supposed to be falling for him.”
“I know, Jun,” you sigh. “But I think we’re more alike than outward perceptions allow. I feel like he never really lets his guard down around other people. I just wish I could have the chance to make him feel as seen as he does for me. He’s like no one I’ve ever met.”
Yeonjun stays quiet for a long moment, scrutinizing the way you lower your eyes and resume haphazardly shuffling through the dresses. “I think you should tell him how you feel.”
You would burst into laughter at how ridiculous his proposition is, except it’s not funny at all. “Now that would be crossing the line. Our relationship is completely platonic. Imagine how uncomfortable it would be, to find out that the client you’re trying to help connect with others falls for you instead? I couldn’t do that to Hyunjin.”
“I think Hyunjin still deserves to know. He’s your dating coach, Y/N. If there’s anyone who can understand you, it’s him, because if he really cares about you, nothing about your relationship will change. And who knows, maybe he reciprocates. You never know.”
Listening to your cousin give you such advice makes you feel strange, but not in an unpleasant way. You truly are thankful for it, even if you might not completely trust in it. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Jun.”
Yeonjun looks like he wants to say more, but he seems to notice the note of finality in your voice and decides to move on. “Back to me. Ask me again, about how school’s going, and I’ll tell you all of the tea.”
“How is school going?” 
“Oh, thank God you asked. Beomgyu is still trying to get me to feature on his OnlyFans, but even though he’s a little creepy with it, he’s the only one who agrees to come thrift shopping with me. And he’s a pretty chill roommate overall, so I can’t really complain. Ugh, and it turns out, my evil ex is still obsessed with me…”
You grin and listen to Yeonjun ramble on about his very animated life at UCLA, thankful for the distraction as you comb through the racks. After a few minutes of tuning into Yeonjun’s story about how he walked in on Beomgyu hooking up with some guy named Jeongin, you freeze, because you meet eyes with the one person you wished you would never see again. Yeonjun’s babbling comes to a jarring stop, and you both just stare at the monster who tried to ruin your life.
“Y/N! Is that you?” 
He saunters forward as you stay rooted to where you are, and it’s like he has walked right out of an old photo album carrying the bitter memories of your past. You recognize those round, sparkling doe eyes, the ones that reminded you of the dark pearls in the milk tea drinks you both would always share at night markets. The same choppy, boyish haircut streaked with caramel, the locks you would quietly run your fingers through after every time you forgave him. That delicate, nearly fairy-like face, the one that you could never bring yourself to hate, no matter how much he pushed you. Park Jisung has not changed one bit, except for the space you used to clutch on his arms has now been occupied by someone new. 
The girl is stunning, you can admit, but on closer look, you realize that it’s Kazuha Nakamura, the last girl he cheated on you with, the one that severed the final threads of your relationship. She, on the other hand, looks completely different, with her blonde curls chopped into a dark Brazilian-permed lob that swishes when she tilts her head down derisively, surveying you from head-to-toe. She looks like the epitome of the girl that Jisung was always trying to get you to be, stuck into the mold of a life predetermined for her. And for the first time in a long time, you’re glad you didn’t fit.
You regain your bearings a moment later after the initial shock wears off, when Park Jisung laughs, a deep, rumbling sound that contrasts with the way Kazuha titters next to him. But instead of acknowledging Jisung, you turn to Kazuha first instead.
“Kazuha! What a surprise!” You smile sweetly at her while she just gapes at you blankly, clearly surprised by your absence of hostility. In the periphery of your eye, you can see Jisung ball his fists at his side, ever the narcissist to be irked by even a slight dearth of attention. “You look great, girl!”
“And you look exactly the same, Jisung,” Yeonjun says flatly in a way that obviously conveys insult, before slinging a protective arm around your shoulder. You stifle a snort, and watch the way Jisung rolls his eyes.
“Ever a delight, aren’t you, Yeonjun?” Jisung shoots him a venomous smile, that Yeonjun responds to with a cheesy little salute. This time, you can’t contain the chuckle that escapes your lips. 
Before anyone can say more, you pipe up, determined to have the last word in the conversation you have no intention of repeating. “It was wonderful to see you, Jisung. You and Kazuha make a lovely pair— hope it works out!”
With one last gracious nod of your head, you loop your arm through Yeonjun’s and move past where Jisung and Kazuha stand rooted to the spot, speechless. As you and Yeonjun flounce away, you feel Jisung’s gaze burning into the back of your neck, but you don’t care. Not anymore.
“Damn, and I thought I’d get to watch a fight today. I really would have liked to see that dickwad get his just desserts,” Yeonjun grumbles, but you see the impressed look on his face.
You feel an unfamiliar rush of both adrenaline and triumph coursing through your veins; you saved your anger, and yet, you know you’ve won. For months, you told yourself that if you ever got the chance to tell Jisung off, you would use it. But the thought didn’t bring you as much satisfaction as it did before, and besides, you have someone more worth your tears now. Seeing Jisung again didn’t affect you as much as it once would have, because you finally, truly have moved on. And comparably, your current predicament seems much more daunting than some loser who never deserved you. 
“They looked like morons when we didn’t give them the reaction they wanted. Besides, I’m taking the high road.”
“You’re boring when you’re not a bitch.”
“Thanks.” You grin, pausing your gait when you see it. The giddiness drains into something more mournful as you take in the dress, delicate folds of pink chiffon that dissolve into a painstakingly threaded gold-beaded skirt. “This is the one, Jun.”
Yeonjun doesn’t miss the beat of sadness in your voice, the thickness of your words. “Seriously though, you don’t have to talk about Jisung, but I feel like that’s not who you’re upset about. You don’t seem okay.”
“I’ve found my peace with Jisung, but there’s still something else.” You inhale sharply. “I’m in love with Hyunjin.”
He stays quiet for a moment, before taking the dress off of the rack for you. “This is on me.”
“I appreciate it, but you don’t have to—”
“I want to. And if you’re not busy tonight, I have somewhere to be, and I’d like it if you came with me. What do you say?”
You’re not oblivious— you recognize the sympathy, Yeonjun’s clear attempt to cheer you up, a switch-up from the banter you usually trade. Before, you would refuse, retreating home to bury yourself deeper into a hole. But for once, you don’t want to push away the people who care about you. So you accept and look forward, accepting the poignance of it all.
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“Hwang Hyunjin, you’d better get your ass over here on time, or else I’ll—”
Hyunjin bursts into a dramatic fit of coughing, cutting off Seungmin’s nagging. “Remind me to take you to one of my yoga sessions. Your chakras are seriously off, but there’s nothing that Dr. Sachet can’t fix.”
“Hyunjin.” 
“I know! I just got here, Seungmin.” Hyunjin sighs, ending the call before Seungmin has the chance to say anything further. He slides his phone into his pocket, already regretting his choice to accept Seungmin’s request— which was actually more of a demand— to be his plus-one at his college reunion. 
Any other day, he would have loved to ditch his introverted activities to accompany his best friend to get tipsy and gossip about everyone’s glow ups. Today, however, all he really wants to do is curl up in his bed with Princess Diana and binge-watch Friends. But alas, his loyalty— and fear— for Seungmin won out, and now here he is, standing in a rounded glass elevator on his way up to Highlight, the upscale rooftop bar venue of the event. 
When the elevator finally reaches the top floor, the telltale bell dings, opening the door into what can only be described as high-end chaos: people decked out in crisp suits and cocktail dresses and jewels, as they crowd around the lighted bar counters, shouting out their drink orders to harried bartenders while trying to brag about how successful they’ve become over the past few years. Waiters walk around, serving hors d'oeuvres to the guests that promptly ignore them, and the orchestral jazz, courtesy of the live band crowded into the corner, is drowned out by the raucous laughter of a group of men situated at a section of tables next to the windows. The whole effect is ridiculously ostentatious, and even Hyunjin has to restrain himself from letting his lip curl with disgust.
“Fuck, there you are.” Hyunjin feels a warm hand on his shoulder, and turns to see Seungmin staring at him with an overwhelmed look in his eye.
Hyunjin takes in his friend for a moment, admiring his black and white silk polka dot shirt that’s tucked into a pair of belted navy slacks. At least someone at this place had style, and it’s always a pleasure for it to be Seungmin, as by now, Hyunjin has gotten used to seeing him wearing bloodied scrubs. “You look good, man. But why in the world would you want to come here and see all of these jerks?”
Seungmin shrugs, and Hyunjin is surprised to see a slight blush overtake his features. He traces Seungmin’s wandering gaze over to the edge of the open balcony, where a devastatingly handsome man strangely stands on his own, sipping on his cocktail while observing the view of skyscrapers stretching out around the building. Ah. 
“He’s Seungcheol, isn’t he? Your old crush that you never talked to? That’s why we’re here?” Hyunjin teases, remembering those nights when he got Seungmin tipsy enough to confess his unrequited feelings for Choi Seungcheol, the resident heartbreaker of the pre-med student body at UCLA. 
“Shut the fuck up.” Seungmin grumbles, but his complexion betrays him, turning as red as a tomato. 
Hyunjin laughs heartily, thanking a passing waitress before accepting a mango and vanilla parfait from her tray. “Alright.”
And then it’s Seungmin’s turn to check out Hyunjin, who strikes a little pose and preens at the attention. “I don’t know how, but even with all of your designer shit, you never seem like a dick.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Hyunjin grins. Hyunjin never dresses to appease the dress code— instead, he makes it his bitch, and does it in a way that’s classy, not ostentatious. It’s clear in today’s sophisticated yet roguish ensemble: a crisp white Givenchy suit paired with Nike Air Forces to deflate the grandiose of the former brand. And the sheer black tank top and silver chain-link necklace under his oversized blazer was just enough to add a touch of gender-bending sexiness. 
The corner of Seungmin’s mouth quirks up, and he hooks his arm into Hyunjin’s, steering him towards a high table tucked into a more quiet section of the bar. “Having fun, Hyun?”
Hyunjin fights a smile. “Moresoe now that you’re here with me, babe.”
That is Seungmin’s cue to shove Hyunjin away, who continues to bat his lashes prettily. “I hate you. I should’ve asked Nicholas the hot nurse to be my date instead.”
“But then you couldn’t flirt with our Seungcheol!”
Seungmin groans, head falling onto the table, lolling to the side hopelessly. “I don’t even know how to approach him, though. I mean, did you see him? He just managed to get even more gorgeous! His hair? His height? He’s totally out of my league.”
Hyunjin immediately morphs into wingman mode. “Trust me, I can just tell he has a thing for cute nerds. And, not to be crass, but his body language screams brat tamer.”
“I am not a brat,” Seungmin scowls. 
“Touché.” 
After a few more minutes of hyping Seungmin up, Hyunjin triumphantly sits back and watches his friend slink off in the direction of Seungcheol; he snickers to himself when Seungmin tentatively taps on Seungcheol’s shoulder, shaking like a fangirl about to ask a celebrity for a picture. Seungcheol turns, a friendly beam cutting across his stern features. Seungmin says something indiscernible to Seungcheol that makes him laugh, and that’s Hyunjin’s sign to leave the rest to his friend. 
By this time, the company around him has eased slightly, with everyone digging into the buffet-style dinner that the caterers have set out. 
“Don’t mind if I do,” Hyunjin mutters under his breath, thinking back to the flimsy cup of ramyun that he had scarfed down earlier. He picks up a plate from one of the long tables and gets in line, mouth already watering at the spread of food. After loading his plate with copious helpings of every dish of carbs in sight, he also makes sure to secure dessert, snagging a couple pastries and slices of cake. The gaggle of ladies behind him shoot him pointed looks, but he ignores them, walking away to find seating; he’s needed this, after the week he’s had.
He winds up sitting next to a giddy couple that just cannot keep their hands off of each other. Most of the time, when he winds up somewhere with people who exhibit excessive public displays of affection, he tries to discreetly slip away or make himself as unknown as possible, the hopeless romantic in him quietly cheering them on. Now, however, he unceremoniously plops onto the farthest end of the loveseat opposite of them, all alone and just grateful that the food is good.
“Earth to Hyunjin!”
Hyunjin looks up, mouth stuffed embarrassingly full of a caprese salad sandwich. “Mrph?”
Seungmin stands there, hands on his knees while he pants a little to catch his breath. “You will not believe what just happened.”
“Well, what happened?”
“Seungcheol and I are going out to dinner tomorrow!” Seungmin huffs, cheeks flushed a bright red as he looks over at Seungcheol where he’s standing by the elevator. Seungcheol gives him a shy smile before quickly looking away. Seungmin smirks and leans down to speak into Hyunjin’s ear. “And he just asked me if I have any plans for the rest of the night.”
He leans back to gauge Hyunjin’s reaction, which, in Hyunjin’s knowledge of his friend, does not disappoint. Hyunjin gasps theatrically and nearly drops his plate in trying to clap him on the back in congratulations. “That’s my man!”
“That’s right!” 
Hyunjin grins. “Even your ship name would be cute. 2Seung. Meant to be.”
“You’re such a dork.” Seungmin rolls his eyes, but fails to hide his blush. “Now, I’m gonna go get railed by the man of my dreams.”
Hyunjin bids Seungmin goodbye, remaining enthusiastic up until the moment he sees Seungmin and Seuncheol take their leave. As soon as they do, he lets his smile fall. He’s happy for Seungmin, really. He just wishes it could be him disappearing into that glass elevator with his lover. He would press you up against that heavy gold railing that rounds the inside, kissing you as you begin your descent down the building. Kissing you as fireworks go off in the distance, brighter than the Los Angeles skyline. Kissing you even when the elevator door opens, an irked crowd of people waiting to get in. He wishes he could flaunt you off to everyone in the world, show everyone how perfect you are for him. 
Hyunjin is so lost in his muddled, wistful thoughts that he doesn’t notice the couch dip, someone just as miserable as him occupying the tiny space next to him. 
“Hyunjin?”
He turns his head, slowly, to see you, of all people, glaring at him with a bewildered expression on your face. He remains in a momentary stunned silence, taking in the slight redness of your nose, how watery your eyes are. The space in between your eyebrows that’s painfully scrunched. The way your lips are pressed together tightly. You’ve been crying. Still gorgeous, no matter what.
“Darling?”
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For the second time today, you are caught off guard. You have been stewing in your loneliness all evening, ruminating over your hopelessly unrequited love. It surprised you, a little bit, how you were barely affected by the run-in with Jisung, but that faded away when you took your first sip at the absurdly lavish open bar. For others, alcohol can be liquid courage— for you, it’s a depressant that brings out the sad drunk in you.
You shake your head, trying not to let the immediate horror seep into you. But how can it not, when the gorgeous man you are in love with has just become witness to your ugly tears for the second time? And from where did he just appear out of, when you thought you were going to be able to spend your time wallowing in your sorrows alone? Life is truly unfair.
“What- what are you doing here?” You sputter. 
You imagine that Hyunjin looks stunned, for a moment, but his face lights up when he realizes that it is you who is the mess curled up next to him. If he seems put off by the remnants of your crying, he does not show it. “I was here as my friend’s date, but it seems as though he’s ditched me for a better one.”
He gives you a furtive smile that makes you feel like you’re in on a joke, and in spite of your pitiful state, you immediately feel the warmth spread through you. “The Love Doctor always works, doesn’t he?”
“It’s my nine-to-five, as well as my five-to-nine,” Hyunjin jokes, chuckling. “So, you’re a UCLA alum? You didn’t strike me as the sort, I didn’t think.”
You scoff playfully. “Absolutely not. Proud Case Western grad here. Where else would I get my inherent computer geek complex?”
Hyunjin’s eyes sparkle. “Then what brings you here?”
“My cousin.” You jerk your chin in the direction of Yeonjun, who’s currently trying to break up a fight between two men who seem to be arguing about something related to stocks. “He’s trying to fulfill his senior undergraduate community service requirement by volunteering at this thing. But this is barely community service— I think the UCLA Alumni Association just wanted some free labor.”
Hyunjin laughs at your shitty joke, and you nearly feel like your attitude just turns up at that sound, unfurling like petals when touched by sunshine. “Are you enjoying the party?”
“Too kitsch.” You tilt your head towards the dizzying display of debauchery currently swarming your little bubble: most of the guests have separated into their own cliques by now, and the one closest to you has set up an uproarious gambling circle on their table. This is a bit much, even if for a swanky college reunion.
“Agreed.” Hyunjin stays quiet for a moment, and you watch him curiously, wondering what he’s thinking of. He relieves you a moment later. “Darling, I don’t want to intrude, but I just wanted to ask if everything’s okay?”
You hesitate to answer, because although you know he genuinely wants to check up on you, given the astronomically considerate person he is, you don’t want to burden him with your problems— especially if the problem is him. So you do what any sensible person would do and deflect. “It’s a long story. How about we check out the bar?”
You expect him to turn you down, but maybe you’re not the only one who needs a drink, because he accepts. “I feel like I’ll regret it, but alright.”
Hyunjin helps you up from where you sit, grabbing your purse for you and handing it to you as you stand, making your heart squeeze even tighter in your chest. But you both make your way over to the open bar, snagging two seats at the very end of the counter on one side. 
The teariness made your intoxication a bit more discreet, so you’re openly able to ask for a beer without raising Hyunjin’s eyebrows. Hyunjin, on the other hand, orders a pink champagne on the rocks. He really is so sophisticated. After you both finish speaking with the bartender, he turns to you, placing his elbow on the counter and propping up his chin in his arm. The soft smile on his face fits perfectly as his eyes lock onto yours, and it feels… flirtatious. 
You’re suddenly transported into all of those times you were alone at a bar, men approaching you with a similar demeanor, but with very much different intentions. Therein, with Hyunjin, the aura of respect and boundaries still hangs in the air, so it doesn’t linger, no matter how much you wish it would stay. 
The bartender sets your choices in front of you, and you try to enjoy the drink, but the overwhelming bitterness of it just makes everything come crashing down. You sniffle, and then immediately hope that Hyunjin has not noticed that you are beginning to cry pathetically— again— into your mug of beer.
Hyunjin looks concerned, leaning forward as if to put his arm around you, but after a moment’s hesitation, he retracts his arm and instead, focuses on your face. "Y/N?"
Shit. You try to laugh it off as an extremely severe case of allergies, but even besides the fact that there's barely any pollen in the concrete jungle of Los Angeles, you suck at acting. Too bad Hollywood is only a ten-minute commute from your apartment.
"I’m… I’m okay. I'm totally okay." You try to laugh it off, but instead, it sounds like a strange, very unattractive quack. The thick tears that begin to roll down your cheeks are not even necessary for Hyunjin to call you out. He is not buying any of it.
"Darling, please. Don’t lie to me.”
"Hyunjin, I'm fine! God!"
At this point, you're full on sobbing in the middle of the room, and people are shooting you weird looks. Hyunjin should leave. Being seen with a mess like you could taint his spotless, perfect image, and outside of his office, he has absolutely no obligation to you. Fuck, you don’t even know why you’re being such a crybaby— before Hyunjin, you could actually down booze without losing it on the spot, especially surrounded by a bunch of strangers.
But as if he couldn’t tug at you anymore, he doesn’t think this time to cross the miniscule space between you both and pull you into a tight hug. You feel like utter crap, and it’s been so long since someone just held you, assuring you that everything is going to be fine. But you can’t help notice one insignificant detail: Hyunjin smells fucking amazing and expensive and elegant— perhaps Chanel or Tom Ford? And in that glorious suit too, he’s like the real-life, less embarrassing embodiment of the mafia overlords that dominated your questionable high school fanfiction phase. Fuck. This isn’t helping the situation.
Hyunjin, meanwhile, rubs soothing circles on your back, definitely unaware of your inappropriate intrusive thoughts. “Shhh, it’s going to be okay. Do you wanna get out of here?”
You blink up at him tearily, mind frazzled but remembering your engagement. “But, Yeonjun…”
And as if the devil whispers in his ears, your cousin manifests out of thin air, collapsing onto the empty stool next to you. “My dear cuz, smack some sense into me if I ever volunteer again with— wait. Bro, are you crying?”
The shame piles up on you again, heating up your skin in a way that’s too obvious. But before you can muster up a lie, Hyunjin speaks for you, taking the mug away from your hands. “I think it’s best if Y/N gets some rest, she isn’t feeling too well.”
Yeonjun just stares dumbly at Hyunjin for a second, jaw hanging open a little, as it does for anyone when they are first in the presence of Hwang Hyunjin. “I, uh. Yeah. That’s good. You’re Hwang Hyunjin, right? Her dating coach?”
Even through your intoxication, you feel like you see something flicker in Hyunjin’s eyes, but as always, it doesn’t last. “Yes, it’s wonderful to meet you, Yeonjun. Y/N has spoken a lot about you.”
“Same to you.” Yeonjun snickers, before clearing his throat and turning serious. “Listen, man, I hate to ask you this. But can you please help her home? I can text you the address? I really can’t leave this stupid shindig until it’s over, but I don’t wanna leave her alone—”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of her.” Hyunjin states firmly, motioning to the bartender to bring you a large class of water. The way he’s looking out for you brings up something hot, aroused in your stomach. 
Yeonjun nods, and to his credit, he really does look as apologetic as you can discern in your drunk haze. Hyunjin helps you finish your water, before buying a water bottle for you to sip from, as he slides his arm around your shoulders and helps you out of that terrible room. In most cases, when sober and thinking straight, you would be as rigid as a bar, humiliated and unsure of what to do with yourself. But you let yourself have this, just once, melting into his side and enjoying your misery more than you should.
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Sometimes, Hyunjin really can be such a piece of shit. Like the time he promised Princess Diana extra cuddles before bedtime, but forgot because he had been working late at SeoulSpark on some overdue reports; he had felt like such a horrible father to his baby. Or the time he mentioned a Gucci product during an interview, inadvertently advertising for Versace’s biggest competitor; Donatella wouldn’t reply to his texts for nearly a week. But all of that seems tame in comparison to today.
You’ve had too much to drink and can’t stop crying, and here Hyunjin is, thinking about how much he wants to kiss you. In his defense, you look so adorable, with your cheeks flushed from the alcohol, eyes drooping with drowsiness and lips pouted preciously. But it’s still highly inappropriate of Hyunjin to be thinking of you in such a way, so he shoves those treacherous thoughts into the back of his mind and focuses on staring at anything but you.
After a few swipes on the Uber app, your ride pulls up in front of the hotel in which Highlight is located inside. At this point, you’ve become pliant in Hyunjin’s arms, cuddling into his side and clutching at his waist. Hyunjin can barely breathe, and is vastly thankful for the distraction of the car's arrival.
He helps you into the backseat of the car, before getting in from the other side. The drive back to your place is quiet, save for the breezy orchestra music that the driver plays on the low and the soft sounds of your sniffling. Hyunjin clenches his jaw and stares out the window, trying to focus on the green highway signs whizzing by and not the fact that you’re barely centimeters away from him, humming sadly along to the radio. 
Twenty minutes pass, and suddenly, you’re both standing in front of your apartment building, an old but dreamy housing complex tucked away in one of the quieter sectors of the city. Hyunjin walks you up to your door, telling himself that he’ll leave as soon as you’re safe inside. He watches you sway on your feet a little while you take a few extra minutes to fumble with the door lock. Hyunjin wants you to go inside and slam the door in his face, bringing him back to his senses. Instead, you look over at him, a lilt to your voice.
“Wanna come inside?” You slightly slur over your words, giving him a small glance. It’s innocent enough that Hyunjin knows your motives are pure, even if a tiny part of him wishes they weren’t. 
He hesitates, the logical side of his mind screaming at him to politely refuse and bid you a goodnight. But then again, he hasn’t been very logical whenever it comes to you. He now promises himself that this is just a little post-party hangout. You can be friends, can’t you? And besides, you need someone to look after you. And friends look after each other, don’t they?
Hyunjin steps inside, instantly in awe of your apartment. The open floor concept allows him to explore the entire layout with his eyes, from the soft throw blanket lying on your very comfortable-looking couch to the bellowing linen curtains hanging over your windows. The mismatched furniture and nearly overflowing book cases are incredibly charming, the artful dissonance of your decor coming together in a harmony that just makes everything feel so cozy. 
In Hyunjin’s mind, your apartment is so quintessentially you, a feeling of home that his own place never quite felt like. Yes, he loves Oasis more than anything, but there’s this slightly pretentious air to it, this urge to keep it constantly pristine. It feeds into Hyunjin’s obsession over perfection, instead of being the one place where he can truly be himself. Here, however, Hyunjin feels comfortable, secure in his own skin, even when in reality, he probably looks ridiculously out of place in his over-the-top outfit.
“Hm,” you mumble, prompting Hyunjin to whirl around and rush forward to steady you when you lean a little too forward. “Do you wanna drink?”
Hyunjin frowns at you while you just giggle nonsensically. You’re nowhere near sober, but at the very least, at least you’re not distressed anymore. Hyunjin hates to see you upset; your face was made for smiling.
“Absolutely not. We have done enough drinking for today.” Hyunjin chides you sternly. “You can’t go to bed on an empty stomach, though.”
You prop yourself on one of the chairs at your dining table, giving him an anticipating look that Hyunjin takes as permission to rummage through your cupboards. After looking through the fridge as well, Hyunjin settles on cooking you his comfort grilled cheese recipe. He pours you a glass of water and gives you a little pat on your head when you obediently finish the entire thing and accept another.
You quietly watch Hyunjin while he putters around the kitchen; the sheer domesticity of it all makes him yearn for this to be a regular occurrence. He’d cook for you everyday, filling you to the brim with all of the affection you deserve. But that’s not going to happen, so he keeps his head down and concentrates. Hyunjin flips the sourdough bread on the griddle until it’s golden brown, spreading liberal amounts of butter on each side. And the pièce de résistance, he adds one-third white cheddar, one-third yellow cheddar, and one-third American cheese, his favorite combination of cheeses for a rainy day. 
“This is so yummy,” you declare after your first bite, eyes full of delight. “Here, have some. You’re such a good cook, Hyunnie.”
Hyunjin doesn’t know whether to be more shocked at the fact that you’re holding out your own sandwich for Hyunjin to try, or how you just called him such an endearing nickname. “I– it’s okay, darling. I’m not hungry.”
But you don’t accept it, because it looks like you’re just as stubborn even when inebriated. “You need to taste, or else I’ll be sad.”
You flash him a heartbroken set of puppy dog eyes that makes him melt and give in. He reaches across the rickety little table and tries to take the sandwich in his own hands, but you pull away slightly and hold it out to him expectantly. Oh. 
Hyunjin gingerly leans forward and lets you feed him a bite of the grilled cheese. He chews quickly, trying not to blush under the intensity of your gaze. Once he swallows, he watches you finish off the rest of the sandwich, satisfied with his compliance. When you’re done, you look up at him proudly, and he just can’t help but be endeared by you. 
Hyunjin clears the table and washes the dishes, wiping his hands on the fluffy towel hanging from the oven handle. After a moment’s hesitation, he reaches out to brush a few stray crumbs off of the corner of your mouth, trying not to revel in the sensation of how soft your lips are under his thumb.
“Thank you,” you say, giving him a guileless smile while you bite down on an orange-colored candy from the small bowl on the counter. “Let’s do something fun, that party was so boring.”
Hyunjin lets you wrap your fingers around his wrist, pulling him to the living room and onto the couch. He huffs out a laugh as you clumsily fall onto the sofa, moving to get comfortable. “What are you thinking?”
You tap your chin dramatically, making a show of trying to decide what to do. “How about… karaoke?”
Hyunjin grins and takes the TV remote that you hand him, hopping onto YouTube and flipping through the list of lyrical videos. “Any preference for a song?”
You shake your head vigorously. “Surprise me.”
He settles on “Gone Away,” a ballad by one of his favorite underground rock bands. The slow notes of a love song float out through the speaker, the lovely voice of the lead singer, J.One, filling his ears. He nervously glances over at you, but you give him an encouraging nod, and Hyunjin lets himself go.
“Inside collapsed time, even my hopes for us to be together, no longer matter,” Hyunjin sings along to the lyrics, the song resonating within him more than he wishes it did. “My love, tangled up while looking for you, is gone, gone away, gone away.”
“I don’t think I can stop you from leaving anymore,” you join in softly, and Hyunjin looks over at you in surprise, but you’re staring straight ahead at the TV. He tamps down his nerves and gets through the rest of the song with you, both of you somehow harmonizing together in tune. At some point in the middle, the tears start pouring down his cheeks slowly, in the way he can never control. He just hopes that you don’t notice every time he reaches up to swipe at them, before inevitably fall.
The song doesn’t finish quick enough, and an advertisement begins to run on autoplay, but Hyunjin can’t bring himself to look at you again, terrified of the way his heart beats so deafeningly in his chest.
“Hyunjin.”
Serious, without a single hint of playfulness. Hyunjin clears his throat and lifts his head to see your indecipherable expression. He notices the traces of haziness in your eyes, but there’s undeniable determination written across your face. “Yes?”
“Don’t cry,” You nearly sob out, breath catching in your throat. “It doesn’t suit such a beautiful person to be filled with so much grief.”
Hyunjin covers up his astonishment at your words with denial, trying to push them off as an emotional reaction to the song. But you’ve just called him beautiful, and that cannot be covered up. “I’m sorry, that was a bit much.”
You swallow harshly, the dry sound of it audible. Maybe Hyunjin should excuse himself to bring you some water and escape this conversation. But— “You can never be too much. I want you, all the time. I think of you, all the time.”
This time, Hyunjin is effectively rendered gone. Frozen to the couch, time stopped and his train of rational thought put on hold. He reruns the sentence in his brain, trying to piece them together. You want him. You think of him? You want him? His confused, frantic contemplation is interrupted when you crawl over the couch and lift your palm to cup his jaw, so close that he can nearly feel the soft puff of your breathing against his face. Fuck, you’re still drunk.
“I’m gonna kiss you now,” you murmur. Hyunjin is sure he has died and gone to some otherworldly dimension— maybe heaven, or hell, depending on how the higher powers have judged his situation to be— when he feels your lips slot against his, reeling him in like a needle through thread. So what else can he do, but accept what you give him and circle his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer so you’re on his lap.
You taste like the mango candy you popped earlier, sweet with a hint of tanginess, and it’s driving Hyunjin absolute nuts. Your eyes flutter shut and so do Hyunjin’s, both of you melting into each other, diving into the dangerous waters that Hyunjin swore that he wouldn’t tread. But he can’t stop, he just can’t, not when you lick into his mouth with a passion to rival the one he’s felt for you since day one. 
“Hyunjin…” You whisper, a long, obscenely drawn-out syllable that’s reminiscent of the noises that Hyunjin imagined eliciting from you. That one sound snaps him out of it. You’re drunk, you’re drunk, and this means nothing. This means nothing to you, and he’s just been here, the unfortunate sap to receive your sweet, empty words just because he’s been here for you once. He doesn’t deserve any of it. You’re not going to remember any of it. You are so fucking drunk.
Before he knows it, he’s shoving you off, and with the way you heavily land on the cushion next to him, he wasn’t gentle at all, in his panic. You just stare at him with a half-dazed, half-dismayed look on your face that makes him cringe away. 
“I am so sorry,” Hyunjin croaks, grabbing his phone and scrambling to stand up. He will pull himself together, eventually, in time to see you for the next appointment. And then he will remind himself that he is a mere service to you, and nothing more. As it should be, and as it always was.
Hyunjin doesn’t even wait for your response before he’s running out the door and into the night.
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You come to at around noon, groggily blinking a few times before the memories come flooding back in. You drinking yourself stupid at the bar. Hyunjin leading the way back home. Karaoke while relaxed on your shitty couch from Craig’s List. Kissing like in a movie before the atomic bomb dropped. You kissed Hyunjin. Your drunk, sentimental ass was lucid enough to remember your feelings, but not sober enough to remember to conceal them. You kissed Hwang motherfucking Hyunjin, and you have colossally fucked up. 
You scream about it for a good half hour, ripping at your hair and keeling over on the couch, dry heaving in a failed attempt to let out your guilt. It sticks. You’re mortified. Scared. Disgusted. How, how could you do that to him? Taking advantage of him when he was in your own home? You didn’t even get proper consent from him! You are such a damn asshole, and now, Hyunjin is probably never going to want to see you again. 
All you want to do is jump under your covers and cry yourself to a sleep that you’ll never have to wake up from. But you love Hyunjin too much to do that to him. You owe him an apology and the entire world, which you have no qualms about bringing to him if he asked you.
And that’s why you’re at SeoulSpark, ignoring the fear pulsing in your body as you push open the door, closing your eyes as the cool gust of the air conditioning washes over your skin. But the drop in temperature does nothing to tamp down the nerves boiling under your skin. 
All of the composure that you have carefully curated in the past few minutes shrivels up— charred to a crisp and punted out of Hyunjin’s ridiculously extravagant floor-to-ceiling windows— when you lay eyes on him. Because that’s the effect he’s always had on you, and you feel like an idiot for not already anticipating that familiar cyclone of emotions that hits you whenever he’s in vicinity. 
There he stands, gazing out at the view leisurely spread out at his feet, lax hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers like he has no worries at all. In the perfect world, you could have just an ounce of his self-command, of how assuredly he carries himself. You envy him almost as much as you want him. Almost. 
When he turns away from the glass at the sound of entrance, the sharp angle of his side profile is shadowed by the light pouring in from behind him, portraying him as some magnificent sort of Greek god. And he might as well be, with the way he has directed both torrents of lightning and spelled arrows through your heart. 
You just stand there awkwardly as he steps out of the sun and completely into your vision; you don’t trust that there will ever be a day when you are not so devastatingly floored by his beauty. The buttons of his shirt are haphazardly hooked in a way that seems not so careless, but more effortless, and you have to fight everything in yourself to not stare at the smooth expanse of skin revealed at the top. 
The moment Hyunjin recognizes the intruder of his office as you, his lips erupt into a smile that seems too genuine given the stunt you pulled just a few hours prior. If he carries any disgust towards you as a result of last night’s events, he doesn’t show it. Warmth pools in his eyes like honey, and you find yourself swimming in it, insatiable and begging for more of that lovely taste. You wish you knew how it would feel to have him look at you so sweetly while he harshly fucks into you, a complete juxtaposition to the adoration painting his expression.
“Hey,” you wave your hand lamely, and then immediately mentally punch yourself in the face; you really missed your calling as the awkward main character of a Disney original show. 
“Good morning, darling. I wasn’t expecting you today.” Hyunjin gestures towards the sofa and you hastily sit down on it, whereas Hyunjin elegantly settles himself across from you. 
“I know.” You avert your gaze, feeling the blush creeping up your neck and onto your face. “Last night was, uh, something.”
That’s one fucking way to put it.
Hyunjin lets out a surprised little chuckle, a sound so cute that you have to ponder ways to inconspicuously pinch your arm. “Well, I was talking about how you didn’t have an appointment. But I’m glad that you’re using the walk-in hours.”
“Yeah… so I thought we should maybe talk about what happened,” you stutter out, shifting under Hyunjin’s steady gaze. “I don’t even know where to begin though.”
Hyunjin hums encouragingly. “It’s okay. What do you want to tell me?”
You take a deep breath, thinking back to the previous night. “I’m sorry. I crossed so many lines yesterday and I was too drunk out of my mind to even tell. I must have made you feel so uncomfortable, and that’s the last thing I would ever want to do.”
And you mean every word. You would rather hurtle yourself into the Grand Canyon than hurt Hyunjin, Hyunjin who has been so good to you even when you never deserved it, Hyunjin who you’re hopelessly and utterly in love with. Hyunjin, who you can never have.
Hyunjin doesn’t say anything during that miniscule gap in which you pause, so you take it as a sign to keep going. You’d rather get it off your chest all in one go anyway, as you fear you may not be able to finish if you stop. “I get it if this changes things. If you don’t want to see me anymore.” 
You shut your eyes as soon as you finish speaking, too apprehensive to see his reaction. This is it. This is the part where he agrees and so very politely asks you to leave his office and never come back again. It’ll probably take Wonyoung all of five seconds to boot you out of Hyunjin’s Google calendar, and then Hyunjin will go back to charming the next poor sucker to walk into his office. Gosh, you want to continue being that poor sucker, as pathetic as it is.
“Did you mean any of it?”
Against every fiber of your being telling you not to, to stay in blissful ignorance, you pry your eyes open to see Hyunjin waiting with his arms folded. Something about the intensity of his gaze, coupled with the unexpected potency in his usually soft voice, makes you shift uneasily. 
“I know it was inappropriate. I’m sorry—”
Hyunjin cuts you off, shaking his head in exasperation. “I need you to tell me the truth. Did you mean what you said to me last night?”
You tilt your head down so that you get an eyeful of the plush rug spread under the sofa. Of course you meant everything. You might have been drunk, but the intoxication only brought out the deepest, most hidden parts of yourself; it gave you the courage to manifest what you want the most. But to admit anything to Hyunjin— again— when he clearly did not want any part in it would hurt even more, because this time, you didn’t have alcohol in you to numb the pain of rejection. 
“Why did you leave?”
For a moment, you think that Hyunjin will ignore your question and insist on you giving him a hard answer. Instead, he tentatively reaches his hand out and hooks his thumb and index finger under your chin, carefully angling your head up to meet your eyes. That familiar gentleness once again radiates from him, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from melting into it. In spite of how utterly miserable you feel right now, the telltale flutter of your heart betrays you. God, you want to be his. 
“I left because I didn’t know how much of it was real,” Hyunjin rasps. His words are hushed, but you feel the weight of them, soaked and dripping with both tenderness and hesitation. “I didn’t want you holding my heart when you couldn’t fully feel it in your hands.”
You exhale slowly, trying to ignore the false hope rising like bile in your throat. The way his eyes brighten whenever he sees you. The stolen glances you thought you were imagining all this time. Darling. It can’t be. “Hyunjin… what are you saying?” 
“Do you have feelings for me? Because I do.” Hyunjin purses his lips and slides his palm up to caress your cheek. “I have feelings for you, and I’m so tired of pretending that I don’t.”
“You what?” You search his eyes wildly for any sign of a joke, because you’re unwilling to believe that this is really, truly happening. All of your reasoning feels tightened by this nostalgic lavender haze, a dizzying sense of deja vu pulled from your thoughts. The ones in which you get to call Hyunjin yours. They cannot be real, not in this universe.
He nods bashfully, a pretty new color in his cheeks— a shade that both astounds and confounds you. The cherry lips that you’ve endlessly fantasized about shine red and swollen with how he has so anxiously bitten into them. Hyunjin’s eyes shine in the hazy glow of his sunset lamp, full of feeling and twinkling brighter than any high rise. You’ve never seen him like this, vulnerable and laid bare in front of you. You’ve always been the one to fall apart in front of him, and yet, here he is, surprising you once again. And that’s something that will never change, how he remains the warlock of your wildest dreams and unraveling sanity. 
“I haven’t been the same since we met.” Hyunjin murmurs, softly stroking the side of your face. “And- and after last night, I think I actually might be going crazy. Because maybe it’s not all in my head. Maybe you want me as much as I do. Do you?”
You shake your head, heart fluctuating with every emotion that has ever been registered in your mind. Exhilaration. Doubt. Fear. Devotion. You are so overwhelmingly in love with the man in front of you that it hurts, even when he stands in front of you with his heart in his hands. It hurts, because you know that no matter what, there’s no going back now. You know you can’t leave him alone now; you are completely and utterly his. 
“Hyunjin—”
“Y/N.” Hyunjin pleads, and all you can feel is disappointment at the address. Not darling. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. Just please—”
“Hyunjin.” You cut him off harshly, and he freezes, his arms dropping back to his side. You immediately feel the magnitude of losing his touch on your skin, and it does nothing to tamp down the mix of frustration and arousal inside of you. “Hwang Hyunjin. You drive me absolutely insane.”
There’s a moment of charged silence, before his lips are on yours. When you were younger, you’d spend hours hunched over romance novels and rereading the parts when the leads finally kissed, their repressed emotions finally amalgamating in one stunning, golden moment. But nothing about kissing Hyunjin feels golden; it never did. 
No, it’s an ardent, burning red, a fire blooming in the hands that you use to yank him closer to you, a distance that will always feel unending whenever it’s him. It’s sin, pouring over hot coals and shimmering ore, enchanting yet raw. It’s so perfectly imperfect, wet and frantic, shameless and desperate. It’s rose vines creeping up crumbling brick and the roll of thunder in the middle of the night. It’s you and him and no inhibitions whatsoever, until… 
“Wait, wait, wait.” To your disappointment, Hyunjin pulls back. Even though he was the one who kissed you, you don’t fail to recognize the uncertainty written on his reddened lips. 
You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to block out the nagging thoughts in which Hyunjin has already regretted you. Moving out of his hold, you give him space by backing away. “Is everything okay?”
“I wanted to make sure that you are one-hundred percent okay with this. Like, I drive you insane in a good way, right? Not a bad way? Just checking. Consent is key and all,” Hyunjin breathlessly, letting out a nervous giggle. It’s a display that is shockingly similar to how you act whenever you’re agitated, and you never expected it to be put on by Hyunjin, of all people. It’s… cute. 
You give him a small smile, letting your handbag carelessly slip off your shoulder and onto the rug. You take a tiny step towards him, wrapping your arms around Hyunjin’s slender waist and reveling in how Hyunjin’s breathing quickens, pulse jumping with your touch. Drawing him close to you, just until your lips are barely touching, you look up at him through your eyelashes, focusing on that gorgeous beauty mark under his eye. 
“Hyunjin, is the door locked?”
He just stares at you for a good moment, and you let him, enjoying the way his lips part at your husky tone. “No. I didn’t lock it.”
“Good.” You lift your hand and trace the outline of Hyunjin’s bottom lip with your finger, observing the way he shivers at your touch. “Pay attention, because I’m about to prove to you just how much I like you.”
A blush speckled across his features is all that is needed to induce that familiar urge in you, the one that makes you unreasonably aroused. You want to make him yours, to take care of him and demonstrate to him specifically how insane you are for him. You want to make his wildest dreams come alive, just like he has done for you.
Hyunjin’s eyes flutter shut, a movement so delicate that it almost makes you cry. “Please… just touch me.”
Talking will come, eventually. Both of you will sit down tomorrow morning and establish what exactly this is, what you have done by that point— what you plan to do to Hyunjin now. You’ll find out what this is for Hyunjin— whether this is lust, a brazen act committed in the heat of the moment, or the complete opposite, what you’re too afraid to even think of. Your heart wishes for the latter to be true, for Hyunjin to want you not only as much as you want him, but in the same way as well. Maybe you can’t put it in words, what you feel for him, but you can show him your sincerity in other ways. It’s all you can imagine doing, after Hyunjin has currently rendered you with no other form of thought. Right now, it’s just you and him and a novel of proofs to be written on each other. 
And so you cup his cheek and draw his body closer to yours; this time, you move slowly, every action deliberate, exploring Hyunjin and his depths. Your lips touch his softly, a ghost of longing on skin. In turn, Hyunjin’s hands clutch at yours, silently asking you for more, and you indulge your prince, because there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him.
Hwang Hyunjin tastes like a sunrise, if dawn’s dainty fingertips blessing the sky with a brilliant, fiery spectrum of light could be encapsulated in that sense. Coffee ice cream, spearmint, unadulterated eroticism. Finally, you’ve found the end of your questions. You shut your eyes as Hyunjin slips his hands into your hair, pulling it out of its tight hold and deftly sliding the tiny pink elastic around his wrist. You mirror his actions, carding your fingers through his soft, silky strands and holding onto him as he deepens the kiss. Instinctively, almost, you part your lips, allowing for him to slip his tongue inside and have his own answers.
Hyunjin pulls back from you to look at you directly when he starts to run his trembling hands down over the curve of your hips, the way he regards you full of attention and lust. You are sure that the confidence that you might have projected earlier has diffused into something more unfocused, with the way you already feel so high off of Hyunjin. Taking control has always been something that has come to you easily, until Park Jisung subjugated that part of you. But you don’t mind it right now, Hyunjin taking all of you and turning you into a mess, because this is the very comfort that you’ve been craving for so long.
“Are you sure?” Hyunjin whispers, even though there’s no secret to be kept. He leans down so that his forehead touches your own, in a way that feels too intimate, but at the same time, it makes you want it and more. It’s a genuine question ringing with the slightest hint of hesitation, and yet, you can’t believe he has to ask you; you love him, even though you may not be able to say it, yet. 
“This. This is what you do to me.” You take Hyunjin’s hand into yours and lead it to the place between your legs that’s been begging for his touch since you first laid eyes on him, second to only your heart. Hyunjin’s eyes widen in surprise when you guide his hand under your skirt, pupils dilating in want when he realizes how drenched you are just for him. But his reaction is nothing compared to you, to how you suck in a sharp breath and try not to fall apart with just one touch.
That one sound is enough for his gaze to darken, before he’s gripping your hips like a vice and pushing you against his desk. You let out a small gasp at the roughness of the movement, and even more so at how Hyunjin is finally taking what has always belonged to him, and him only. In response, he captures your bottom lip with his teeth, nipping at you slightly, not enough to cause pain but just enough to have your back arching at the sting of it.
“Did that hurt?” Hyunjin asks you, a smirk painting his features as he drags his lips across your cupid bow ever-so-softly.
You try to hide your blush by rolling your eyes defiantly, fisting the collar of his shirt in your hands. “No, it didn’t.”
Hyunjin laughs as he places one last kiss on the corner of your mouth, before he’s moving to your neck, attentively peppering kisses along it just to garner more proof of the utter pleasure that has pervaded your senses— and he has barely even touched you yet.  
Your hands slide down to the bottom of his shirt and to tug at it, the desperation of the movement mirroring the pulse of your heart. Hyunjin lets you unhook the top few buttons before hastily tearing off the rest of it, the tiny silver knobs scattering across the floor. But you can’t think about the mess now, not when Hyunjin takes your hands in his and runs them down smooth, toned places of his torso. 
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he mutters under his breath, easily untying your blouse with just his right hand, something that shouldn’t be as attractive to you as it is. He pushes it off of your body, the material now a nuisance to the way he begins to explore every inch of skin his lips can find purchase on. 
You decide to help him out, unzipping your skirt to step out of it, kicking it away along with your heels to some forgotten corner of the office. Seeing no point in prolonging your mutual misery, you also reach behind your back and unhook your bra to free your breasts to him, shrugging it off with a smile as you meet Hyunjin’s eyes.
“Do you want to touch me?” You give him a teasing grin, loving the way he audibly gulps when taking in how you’re nearly bare, all for him. 
“I want to fucking ravish you.”
You tense with his words and how his gaze hardens with the challenge, trying to maintain your cocky front. “Let’s see how you do, Dr. Hwang.” 
Hyunjin doesn’t reply immediately, the corner of his lips just barely tipping up. His fingers find the band of your panties, hooking under to pull you forward to him as he guides you to sit on the desk. “I can literally smell how wet you are for me, you know.”
And you nearly come to his words, but he doesn’t give you the chance, hands coyly smoothing up your stomach before gripping your panties on either side and ripping them off your body. Before the lace has even touched the floor, his mouth is on your cunt, blazing hot and wet. 
You gasp, sucking in a shattering breath as his lips move against your pussy as if spelling out letters in the filthiest language known to man. He envelops your clit with his lips in a slight kiss before you feel his tongue delve out, adventuring between your folds and getting his first, full taste of you. Hyunjin moans as he dips into you, blessing your ears with the prettiest sound to grace them, and it seems as if eating you out pleases him just as much as it does for you, if not more.
Hyunjin pulls away momentarily to look at your center, hands wrapping around your thighs and encouraging them even farther apart. Trailing kisses along your shin, he lifts your right leg to place it comfortably on the desk, caging himself between your legs. The sight makes you clench and grasp onto his hair, bringing him right back into you. 
“Fuck,” he breathes out as he pressed his mouth against you once more, relentlessly starving and savouring the taste of you at the same time. “You taste even better than I imagined.”
You moan, taking fistfuls of his soft, soft hair as he fulfills his sinful promises. You can’t think of any good comeback like you would prefer to do, but this position, while compromising, isn’t anything but ideal at this moment. The worlds have coiled in your throat, coming out as broken sobs, and you have effectively gone crazy for Hyunjin.
“So pretty,” he compliments, eyes drinking in your core before softening as they glance up at you. He slides a lone finger inside of you, and you immediately tighten around it, making him chuckle. “You like that? Like my mouth on your cunt? Like how I’m fucking you like this, so slow yet not enough?”
You just whimper in answer, but Hyunjin remains unbothered by your lack of coherent response. “You taste fucking heavenly, by the way.”
And then he pulls his hand away harshly, leaving a stinging slap directly on your aching pussy, immediately rubbing your clit after to lessen the harshness of it. 
“Oh my God—”
He hooks two of fingers inside of you this time, thrusting in and walking the tips of them along your g-spot, making your head go hazy with pleasure. Your breathing hitches as a pressure starts to build in your lower stomach, your walls shamelessly sucking at Hyunjin’s fingers. 
“Mm, you’re going to drench me, aren’t you? You talk up a big storm, but you’re dripping down my hand already.”
Hyunjin’s talk is almost as dangerous as his touch, and he knows it, with how he grins knowingly at you while he so sweetly puts you in your place. He attaches his mouth to your clit, sucks deftly, and moves his entire arm against that one beautiful place, making your legs give out beneath you. 
“Hyunjin, please,” you sob, amazed with how you were even able to form that sorry excuse for a sentence. “I need—”
“Need what?” Hyunjin mocks you, knowing exactly what you want, but he takes his time, playing with you and drawing out this sublime form of torture on your body. “Can’t wait for me to fill you up, yes? So greedy.”
Fuck, you love the way he talks. Measured and polite when fully clothed, but uninhibited and dirty behind closed doors. Your spine straightens as he starts to pump you so hard that you begin to see stars, or maybe just the lights from the buildings outside. You can’t be sure. You begin to arch your back, trying to lessen the intensity of his movements, but he wraps his arm around your hips to hold you down.
He flicks your clit mercilessly, his tongue winding you close to your climax. You mewl his name softly, rolling your hips up towards his face and on his fingers, clenching impossibly tight around him, but he only responds by fucking you harder. Faster. 
You can feel your orgasm approaching in addition to his heightened attention in your blissful facial expressions, watching the way your brows turn up in the middle. 
“Close, aren’t you?��� He murmurs against your clit, and you concentrate on his voice, the sole thing you can comprehend past the obliterating pleasure you’re suspended in. You swear he smiles, before he pulls away from you. 
You cry out pathetically at the loss of contact, feeling that tsunami of ecstasy fail to crest and eventually fade back into the shallows, leaving just an unbearable ripple of disturbance behind. You can feel the tears form in your eyes at your interrupted orgasm that was so cruelly taken from you, and you narrow your gaze at Hyunjin. 
“And you’re such a brat, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” Hyunjin responds cheekily, tracing his middle finger slightly against your folds, and you have to grind your teeth to keep from shuddering. “I want you to come on my cock instead.”
You’ve had enough of his games. This is something that you started, and you completely intend to finish it, even if it means not playing by Hyunjin’s twisted rules and making your own board. You dig your nails into Hyunjin’s shoulders, feeling him wince under your touch, and push him back roughly. He collapses onto the couch, looking up at you in wide-eyed surprise. 
“Did you have fun, Hyunjin? I hope you did.” It’s your turn to smirk down at him, all of the explicit thoughts of what you would love to do to him running through your head. “Because we’re going to be doing things my way now.”
Before he can even muster up a retort, you are already straddling him, shifting back to unzip his trousers and shove them down his legs, while he just obediently lifts up his hips to help. All in one go, you get both his pants and boxers off, freeing his length. And he really is so pretty— all of him, down to his cock that’s perfectly hardened for you to use. 
Hyunjin shivers as you experimentally palm his cock, testing how sensitive he is, and you’re pleased with what you discover. “What are you going to do to me?” 
“What do you want me to do to you?” You question him right back, pretending to actually listen to him. Hyunjin takes the bait, relief and desire evident in his features.
“I want you to fuck me with that sweet little pussy,” he responds, the urgency filling his throat making you smile.
“I see.” 
You shrug nonchalantly, gripping him and enjoying the way he gets even harder in your hands. Slowly, you begin to pump him, spitting into your palm and spreading it down his length for better friction. It works, with the way he curses under his breath and looks at you pleadingly. 
“Darling, stop… stop doing that,” he pleads, eyes involuntarily rolling back as you lean forward, pressing your tits together and sliding his dick between them teasingly. 
You cock your head to the side and let your hair fall slightly over your eyes, smiling innocently at him. “Stop doing what, baby?”
“Stop fucking teasing me!” He gasps out, watching you lift yourself just barely onto his cock, holding him at the base and rubbing his tip between your slick folds. Both of you let out soft sighs at the sensation of him nudging your entrance, but you still don’t relent. 
“I don’t know… I kinda like the position we’re in. Think I could get myself off just watching you like this,” you say, lightly circling your hips as you grind your clit on his cock. “Be patient.”
“I’ve been patient for months,” he whines— in any other situation, you’d laugh at how adorable he is if you weren’t so damn turned on right now. He places his arms around your waist, squeezing lightly. “I have to have you.”
You take Hyunjin’s hands and bring them up to rest over your breasts, keeping eye contact with him. As if a trying to placate you by seduction, he traces his fingers over your nipples, sending a jolt through your body; he need not know that you have been wrapped around his finger ever since he pushed you against that desk, and that you’re this close to surrendering to his pleas. You need him.
“Say ‘please’,” you giggle, your cocky façade cracking. After all, you’re endlessly weak for him. 
Hyunjin rolls his eyes, but obliges you anyway. “Please, fuck me.”
You want to have one last word with his attitude, but then his palm cracks hard against your thigh, and your legs give up. Your hips sink fully down onto his lap, and you both cry out at the feeling of being sated in the best possible way. Hyunjin is so deep inside you that you feel like you can barely breathe; yet, your chest rises and falls rapidly, as Hyunjin anchors his hands on your ass, assisting you in riding him.
Hyunjin tilts his head back, the veins along the graceful arch of his neck prominent as your walls pulse around him. Meanwhile, you’re practically shaking at how full he makes you feel, pressed up so deliciously inside of you. You’ll lose your mind if it means you can’t have him like this in every moment for the rest of your life, but it’s an unfortunate truth you’ll have to confront later. For now, you know he’s going to make an absolute mess of you.
“There we go, sweetheart. Use me, take all of what you want from me.” Hyunjin just whispers, guiding the roll of your hips while staring up at you in a way you can’t believe is reserved just for you. Enamored, raptured, and completely captivated. It’s so similar to the way you know you always look at him, that you nearly want to cry at the sight.
You’re breathless, gazing down at the man you love through hazy eyes. Hyunjin always looks beautiful no matter what, but right now, he’s simply breathtaking, with how his hair is so artfully mussed, and how his cheeks are tinged with the blush of pleasure. He’s especially exquisite, knowing that he’s like this just for you.
“F-feel so good, Hyunjin,” you manage, both of you fucking each other at this point— you bouncing on top of him while he fucks into from below with equal energy.
Hyunjin smirks, control coming back to him as you give it up. He licks the pad of his thumb and reaches between you both to rub slow, firm circles on your clit. “Fuck, are you going to come already?” 
In spite of yourself, you shoot him a look that isn’t nearly as sharp as you intended it to be. “You already got me halfway there.”
“Definitely more than halfway— eighty-percent’s more accurate,” Hyunjin responds with haphazardly feigned indignance, before shaking his head and kissing you. He bows his head down to encase your nipple with his lips, gently sucking at the bud while his hand trails over across your chest to grasp and squeeze at your other breast, eliciting a strangled moan from you. “It’s that nice, right? I know, baby. Let go for me.”
And you do. Shattering, fierce, red-hot. You can’t handle the way he’s looking at you, touching you, talking to you. Your toes are numb from how harshly they curl, and your fingers sting from how you dragged them down Hyunjin’s back, hopefully leaving marks for him to smile at later.
“Hyun—” You can’t finish even calling out his name, the attempt fading into something nonsensical. Your eyes water from the intensity of your climax, before nestling into his neck.
But he pulls away to look you in the eye when you come, whimpering hopelessly. “That’s it, let go for me, darling.”
Your vision blurs as your orgasm finally crashes into you, overwhelming and so earth-shatteringly beautiful. Hyunjin’s voice soothes you as he guides you through your high, whispering hushed praises against your skin and doing dangerous things to your heart. A wave of unmatchable euphoria washes over you, but it never passes, like his body is an expert in prolonging the pleasure so intricately. You cannot believe that Hyunjin is real, with the way each time he thrusts into you tips you closer and closer into a never-ending free fall into absolute ecstasy. 
With a soft, drawn out sigh, you finally come, and Hyunjin swears under his breath as you clench around him, your pussy gripping his cock so hard that it almost draws the climax from his body. You find a single ounce of strength in the aftermath, wrapping your arm around Hyunjin’s neck and turning his chin to make him look at you.
“I need you to come for me, Hyunjin,” you say, lips quivering against his.
He groans into your mouth, kissing you deeply. “Where, baby? Tell me where.”
“Inside of me.”
Hyunjin throws his head back, moaning desperately before capturing your mouth in a messy kiss. When he breaks away, a string of saliva connects your lips, and it feels so treacherously erotic. Hyunjin comes while calling your name over and over again, pressing your ass down on his lap as his thrusts become shallower, and more erratic. He rolls his hips a final time, pumping his come as deep as he can into you. And then he slumps against you, panting heavily as he gently lays you back down on the couch to fit you comfortably under the crook of his arm.
You hold each other just like that for a long time, hands clasped together while simply existing in the universe that feels like it is all your own. Hyunjin sighs, kissing you deeply in a way that makes your heart flip. He then pulls back to look down and inspect you, both concern and care written deep in his expression. 
“Are you okay, darling? Was that too much?”
You give him a fucked-out grin, cupping his beautiful face with your palms and reveling in how warm his skin is. “No. That was perfect. You are perfect.”
“I… I’m glad.” Hyunjin blushes and looks away like he’s suddenly tongue-tied, as if he wasn’t moaning the dirtiest things into your mouth just minutes earlier. “I don’t even have the words to describe how I feel about you. You’re… everything, and I won’t ever be able to convey that to you completely.”
Something tells you that he isn’t lying, that he means every word, that this isn’t just some kind of lust-filled one-night stand that’ll merit those awkward, unwanted conversations in the future. Maybe it’s the earnesty in his voice, the pure devotion in his eyes, or maybe, you’ll allow this for yourself, just once. You’ll let yourself be happy, let yourself fall and be caught in his arms. 
“I feel the same way,” you say, feeling the tears of something bittersweet form. “You’re gorgeous, Hyunjin. You know that? I just need you to know that.”
Hyunjin wipes the fresh dampness on your cheeks away with his lips, placing a kiss on your forehead when he’s finished. “We have so much time for you to tell me. We’ll talk tomorrow, baby, I promise. Just rest, for now.”
You sniffle, swiping the backs of your hands over your eyes. “I just wish I was completely sober for our first kiss. I remember it perfectly, but it just had to happen when I was a drunk mess.”
He shakes his head, blinking at you like you make no sense to him. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”
“Hyunjin,” you start, heart aching and wistful for his thoughts. It seems like you would want to know everything going on in his mind, but perhaps, the challenge of not knowing and being vulnerable to the mystery, that’s what makes it truly so special.
“I wouldn’t change our first kiss for anything. You were so cute, I should have taken a picture.” Hyunjin smiles down at you fondly, tapping the tip of your nose with his finger. “But if you really want, we can say our first kiss was today.”
You give him a doubtful but adoring look. “That wouldn’t be real.”
Hyunjin shrugs carelessly, nothing but adoration in his tone. “No one has to know except for us. Our lives. Our rules. Our secret. Don’t you trust me?”
Our. You can’t help but feel giddy at that word, the very one that joins you two in the harmony that you’ve yearned for so long. 
“Always.”
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Long after the sun has dipped far below the horizon, after every other SeoulSpark employee has gone home for the day, you and Hyunjin lie together on his sofa in a tangle of sated exhaustion. The many hours of finally acting on long pent-up desires have rightfully ended with you drawn close against his chest as you both silently gaze out at the twinkling cityscape. 
For the years that he has been settled in this office, Hyunjin couldn’t help but feel a strange twinge of sadness whenever he looked out at the stretch of towering skyscrapers. After all, he spent all of his time helping others find love, but there he was, left with a great view that he would never be able to share. He told himself that he didn’t mind it, not when his dreams lay solely in working. He would be happy to be the one to bring love to others, if it was never meant to be his. And he repeated it to himself everyday like it was just another mundane step in his cherished daily routine, until he truly started to believe it. 
But how could any of that be true, when he can feel your heartbeat against his own? When the scent of your gardenia shampoo has so gracefully invaded all of his senses? When the moon so delicately traces every single one of your curves, bathing your smooth skin in a silver glow? How could he ever be meant to be alone, when the void in both his heart and arms have finally been filled?
It’s too soon to tell, and it scares the hell out of him to even think about it. But when you look up at him with those starry, radiant eyes, it all seems so worth it, so justified. You are simply the aurora to his night sky— you light him up beyond his own flimsy understanding. Therein lay the words that haven’t strayed from the tip of his tongue ever since he laid his eyes on you. The words he so fervently spelled earlier into your core, joining them with your essence. The words he’ll bite back for as long as he can because he doesn’t want you to leave.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
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«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME�� · «TAGLIST»
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AUTHOR'S NOTE (& IMPORTANT WRITING UPDATE) Announcement: Jisungsdaydreamer™ has risen from the dead after, like, four months. I apologize, once again, for the terrible wait time. This was my longest gap in posting yet, because it took a while for me to make the adjustment to college. I'm trying to get back to regularly writing, but even when I don't respond/post on here for a while, I just want you to know that I'm still here, and I see you, and I appreciate you! Anyway, I hope you liked the turning point this chapter was (i.e. THEY FINALLY CONFESSED!!!). Cue the fireworks and doves and wedding music!! Also, I just want to mention Yeonjun being a UCLA student- he is sooo Los Angeles coded, and I could totally see him being one of the most popular students at a school like UCLA. And did anyone get my Jane the Virgin reference (hint: it has to do with the grilled cheese recipe)? I used to be obsessed with that show and I have re-watched to the point that I remember almost all of the dialogue... Another thing- for Hyunjin's outfit at the reunion party, I totally was going for what Jungkook was wearing in the 3D music video. I would actually die if Hyunjin dressed up like that IRL. If you know, you know! You can expect the next chapter to come in mid-to-late December, right after my finals (pray for me) finish. Right now, I anticipate finishing Anti-Romantic by the New Year, so I can move onto finishing my other WIPs. Ideally, I'd like to also make a dent on Love Playlist before 2023 is up, but I'm getting ahead of myself! Here's to Dr. Hwang and designer obsessions and being on that sigma grindset. For the next two weeks, I'll be crying over my textbooks in the library while blasting Rock-Star in my headphones. Here's to getting through what I believe is the worst time of year for students! Stay strong and 樂 on 🎸💫 -Dreamy
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TAGLIST @skzfelixlove @army-stay-noel, @hwangjuhong, @chizumiyoshi @hyunjinswifeee @geneziesm @sherryblossom @yeetfellx @bennetbutton @chillseo @hyuneyeon @seosalad @nhyunn @hyunjinnie2000 @ajxreads @n2tl4na @yeahhspider @8makes1scream @jetblackbelle @143hyunes @raginghellfire @sinforsuccubus @lixiesw1fe @chartrucewhore @freckleboilix @ultimatestayandminoronce @cheesytangerine @leyknowsbin @stay278 @strawberry-dreamland @lvrgrl-xo @moasworld @hyunnielix @httphans @chaotic-world-of-the-j @nyasstars @beautifulmusicaddict-blog @imasimplol @1clickawayfrominsane @xsw-void @queen-klarissa @hyunjinsamdl @heavenhannie @moasworld @kykeu @sxlxna @writingkills @boomfrogg @tyongyuta @levislifeline @hyunzerolv @starlost-andfound @browniebearr @hanniemylovelyquokka @ardef38 @loveemmy08 @anyhow-everything @liillii @sweetpickledjins @insertsomethingaboutanimehere @kylielovesu @moon0fthenight
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NETWORK TAG @k-films
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©jisungsdaydreamer 2023 | All rights reserved. I do not condone translations or transfers of my work onto other platforms such as Wattpad, AO3, etc. Tumblr is my only platform. Acts of plagiarism are strictly prohibited.
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cleolinda · 10 months
Text
Sandalwood without sandalwood: Santal 33 (Le Labo, 2011)
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(lelabofragrances.com)
As I've said before, most times I go into one of these writeups trying to answer a question. What is musk, what is amber, why is licorice Like That? So my question for Santal 33 was, why is this thing one of the most popular fragrances of the twenty-first century?
I have worn it 5-6 times, and I honestly have no idea.
I'm not even trying to be salty about this; I am genuinely, neutrally perplexed. Right now, even as I'm typing this, something's occurred to me, though. See, what I was going to say was, "This is supposed to be a sandalwood fragrance. It's a failure. It smells like leather and cucumbers. I barely get any sandalwood at all." And then I remembered what happened with me and the current eau de toilette of Samsara: is Le Labo also using a synthetic sandalwood, a "big molecule" like Javanol, which I can't smell?
As you might recall, there are certain synthetic notes that some people are just anosmic to. Kind of the way cilantro just tastes like soap to some people; it's personal, and it's weird. I'm fine with cilantro, but the current Samsara EdT—one of the biggest (as in physically biggest projection that will knock you down) sandalwood fragrances ever—smelled subtle on me. Or rather, it smelled subtle on me to me. I don't have any data on what I smelled like to other people who can actually perceive Javanol etc. All I really got was what must have been a smaller amount of natural Australian sandalwood oil at the bottom. And that's what I think I'm smelling—even less of it—in the drydown of Santal 33. The rest of the time: leather. And salad.
Which blew my mind, because the first time I heard of this fragrance was an opinion piece that I can't find now, to the effect of "Everybody in New York smells like sandalwood now and I'm sick of it. Thanks, Santal 33." I can't find that link, but I sure can find these:
That Perfume You Smell Everywhere Is Santal 33 (2015)
Le Labo Santal 33: The Scent That Went From Ruggedly Cool to Utterly Basic (2019)
I Don’t Care If Le Labo Santal 33 Is the [Pumpkin Spice Latte] of Fragrance
Someone has to say it – stop wearing Santal 33 (2021)
“everyone in New York smells like Santal 33” (2023)
Le Labo co-founder Fabrice Penot: "We are lucky at Le Labo to have a few 'cults' in our collection. But Santal 33 is another level of success; it has had a stupid amount of success. As a perfumer, you always secretly hope, but you never expect, such an impact."
Why is everybody wearing it??
(I love "a stupid amount of success." He gets it.)
I mean, I live in Elbow, Alabama (please show me this magical world where everyone smells like sandalwood), and I never fucking leave the house, so I wouldn't know that "everyone" does. I think I also have to accept that I will never, through no fault of Le Labo's, understand the allure for myself if I can't even smell the sandalwood. To orient us, though, a nifty summary from the "Utterly Basic" article:
Though it's now difficult to recall a time when SoHo wasn't filled with errant whiffs of the instantly recognizable aroma, Santal has only been around since 2011. Le Labo was inspired by both its preexisting, similar-smelling candle, Santal 26, and the rugged Marlboro Man ads from the latter half of the 20th century. In a press release, the perfumery described Santal 33 utilizing the romanticism of the early American west: "An open fire… The soft drift of smoke… Where sensuality rises after the light has gone," decidedly masculine descriptors for a unisex scent that would come to represent the smell of the social and fashion elite.
Indeed, here's the Le Labo site description:
Imagine sitting in solitude on the rugged, wide plains of the American West, firelight on your face, indigo-blue night skies above. There is nothing around save for the soft, desert wind. You. Are. Free. From this defining vision was born SANTAL 33: a perfume that touches the vast and wild universality of this dream... that intoxicates... It combines a mix of cardamom and notes of iris and violet, which crackle in the formula. Added to this smoking wood alloy (Australian sandalwood, cedarwood) are some spicy, leathery, musky notes, giving this perfume its signature and addictive comforting scent.
The thing is, Santal 33 is also notorious for smelling like dill pickles on people. I actually did get a whiff of dill—the dry herb, not from a pickle jar—when I first wore it on my wrist. But when I wore Santal 33 on the back of my hand—a "method" I discussed here—suddenly a plain, watery cucumber came out. Consistently, in fact, the next four times I wore it, and it really changes the mood of the fragrance, particularly if you can't smell the sandalwood. (Like I said, I can smell a little in the base notes as time goes on, maybe a small quantity of natural oil. It leans more cedar than anything.)
Curiously, the official Le Labo description doesn't mention papyrus, which is a fairly key note in every unofficial listing I've seen (parfumo.com, for example). I wondered at first if the "cucumber" note I was getting came from the papyrus, but that’s said to smell "aromatic or woody, a little dry, earthy and spicy." Which fits the Santal 33 brief perfectly, and might be the herbal "dill" note.
And some people do claim that it's the papyrus, but a poster on r/fragrance said, "Violet and sandalwood together can produce a note that comes off as dill-like." So I google further into this, and I find that "violet leaf" is often Givaudan's aromachemical Undecavertol, which has a "green-floral, fresh, fruity" character, and that could account for the plain cucumber I was getting.
At that point I remembered that Nest's South Pacific Sandalwood has violet leaf, sandalwood, and vetiver, and I happen to have a tiny "discovery" bottle. Guess what? Cucumber. So I'm going to say that [violet leaf + sandalwood] is a strong hypothesis, with or without papyrus.
Does vetiver contribute to the Pickle Effect? It’s not listed in Santal 33, but this fragrance is, after all, named after the number of components that perfumer Frank Voelkl used, and clearly, Le Labo is not revealing all of them. Vetiver, like papyrus, usually has a smoky, earthy quality; other varieties, like an essential oil I have, and the vetiver I think must be in Kuumba Made's Egyptian Musk, smell somewhat watery to me. Like, not marine "aquatic," but "watery-vegetal." If Santal 33 happened to contain vetiver, that could also contribute to the cucumber scent, I don' t know. I feel like the cucumber and/or pickle aspect isn't intentional, unless cowboys really love a good Claussen; it was probably the smoky, earthy, musky facets of vetiver (if I'm right) that were meant to come forward.
Why is Santal 33 so popular, though? Again: I don't even dislike it, but I have no idea. It's a strange one, and if can't smell the note it's named after, there's clearly some revelation being withheld from me here. In fact, Santal 33 really makes me question my concept of "masculine" and "feminine" in fragrance, because, while we all know that Gender Is Fake Except For the Parts You Enjoy anyway, this perfume in particular renders those terms useless. In fairness to me, Fabrice Penot says, "We never thought about who was going to wear it in terms of gender at Le Labo. We are more thinking of the souls — perfumery has to be sexual to me — it has to create an attraction, an addiction."
Now, I only have half a post drafted about what "sexual" terms in fragrance ("sexy," "flirty," "carnal") are supposed to mean if you (I) would like write more inclusively about perfume, so we're going to have to table "perfumery has to be sexual," not to mention the rhetorical jump from "souls" to "sexual," for a moment. This is a whole Thing that deserves airtime of its own.
But even considering that. Santal 33 is extremely mild and neutral and cool on me. It is not the least bit what I, an allosexual, no really I'm sure, would consider "sexual." I know what Fabrice Penot is trying to say, probably, and my nose isn't getting it. Maybe I need to smell it on someone else! Maybe I need to smell the sandalwood!!! Perfume Shrine says it's meant to smell like Sam Elliott in a bottle? Yeah, no, on me, Santal 33 is this cool, tender, vegetal leather that reminds me of the deeply worn-in glove I played softball with as a teenage girl. No spice, no smoke, very little wood, no "crackling" florals.
I've actually been looking for the scent of that glove for a long time, and here it is. I truly have the (unhelpful) urge to say that this is a "feminine" leather. It is not the least bit rugged on me (one supposes that the sandalwood might have made a difference). But then you have to ask, what makes a fragrance "masculine" or "feminine" in the first place? I have two hypotheses that I'm researching, but they're basically 1) "hormonal skin chemistry, which both changes and is changeable" and 2) "antiquated bullshit," since we don't do gender essentialism in this house. Maybe Santal 33 is perfectly "rugged" in its tenderness and I just need to be thinking more Quincey Morris—or Annie Oakley, for that matter—than the Marlboro Man.
The "cool tender leather" smell did keep me coming back to Santal 33, though—I wore it five or six times, until finally the vial broke. Would I get a replacement and add it to my "gonna keep wearing" box? I'm not sure. Both Le Labo's co-founder and many, many user reviews I saw talk about the fragrance being "addictive," and maybe that's it. I felt pretty neutral about it, even disappointed, when I was wearing it... and then kept trying it again.
Is it the very strangeness that makes it popular? Is it the contrast between "soft, watery, vegetal" and the "rugged, masculine" vibe that Le Labo actually advertises? Does Santal 33 change to suit each wearer, and my particular chemistry wanted to smell like softball glove salad? Again, since I can't smell the "santal," I may not ever be able to figure out why New York smells like Le Labo. Maybe the more interesting question is, what's it going to smell like next?
Perfume discussion masterpost
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piwisconseil · 4 years
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PiWi's-Conseil signe la création de la cuisine snacking ! Implantation, ergonomie, matériel, organisation, mise au point des recettes... un très beau dossier très interessant. Superbe challenge! #materiel #labo #plants #cuisiniste #creation #cuisine #snacking #sandwich #salade #quiches #tarte #pizza #divers #concept #Ilovemyjob @piwisconseil #piwisconseil [email protected]* www.piwisconseil.com @pascal_ackermann_piwis_conseil (à Toulouse, France) https://www.instagram.com/p/CBdF4ETJEGa/?igshid=1nu50c6onq9px
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trekkedin · 2 years
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Séli, elle fait des tartes aux abricots à Yvain quand il est malade (tarte aux pommes pour Gauvain, et tarte aux fraises pour Guenièvre)
Léodagan, au cours des années, il a apprit les traditions pictes auprès de Séli (pas toutes quand même). Il faisait genre il s'en foutait, mais il observait discrètement (Séli avait remarqué, mais elle a jamais rien dit parce qu'ils sont tout les deux incapable de parler émotions). Bref, du coup, après quarante ans de mariage, Léodagan est une encyclopédie des traditions pictes.
Arthur adore chanter. Il a apprit pleins de chants étrangers à la tannerie, et quand il rentre en Bretagne, il fredonne tout le temps sans s'en rendre compte. Personne lui fait remarquer (ils flippent trop de se prendre une baffe) sauf Guenièvre. Quand elle lui dit, il arrête, puis elle lui demande de continuer parce qu'elle aime beaucoup, du coup il continue. (Surtout le soir quand elle fait des cauchemards et qu'elle arrive pas à dormir).
Bohort, c'est un vrai papa-poule en fait. Il s'occupe de tout les jeunes chevaliers comme il s'occupait de Gauvain et Yvain à l'époque. Et il s'occupe de tout les orphelins qu'il trouve. Tout ceux dont les parents ont été tués par Lancelot. (Avec Arthur, ils sont les 2 pères adoptifs du Royaume de Logres).
Les retrouvailles d'Yvain et Gauvain. C'est explosif. Impossible de les séparer pendant une semaine entière après. Ils se quittent plus d'une semaine.
Le nouveau laboratoire de Merlin est en plein air, juste à côté du potager de Guenièvre. Comme ça, Merlin a son labo en plein air où il peut faire ces truc, et Élias a son labo avec un toit et 4 murs pour faire ces trucs à lui. Ils trouvent quand même le moyen de s'engueler sur l'état du domaine de l'autre. (Le jardin de Merlin est trop mal foutu pour Élias, le labo d'Élias est trop clean pour Merlin).
Léodagan et Guethenoc, chaque fois qu'ils se voient, ils s'enguelent sur le meilleur moyen de faire pousser des salades. Et dès qu'ils voient Guenièvre, ils lui donnent des conseils sur son potager. Elle en peut plus. Y a une fois, Léodagan et Guethenoc sont venu visiter son potager ensemble, ils l'ont tellement assommée de conseils en s'enguelant en même temps, elle a du les chasser avec une fourche.
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thetigarchives · 3 years
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THE TIG ARCHIVES│TRAVEL│INSIDER’S GUIDE TO TORONTO
“With the Toronto International Film Festival in full effect, it seemed only right to share some of my favorite finds from this new home of mine. We have been filming Suits in Toronto for 4 seasons now, which means four years of getting to know this city. Domaine was kind enough to ask for my favorite finds, and now I am sharing them with you along with a couple of new additions. Here is my Insider’s Guide to Toronto, where the people are friendly, the streets are clean, the food is damn good, and where I found my happiness. Sounds like a pretty good place, eh?”
EAT
The Harbord Room - "Hands-down my absolute favorite restaurant in Toronto and beyond. The food is just perfect, whether you’re craving a crudo plate, a seasonal pasta dish laced with ramps, pesto and a whole lotta love, or the absolute best burger you’ve ever had. My friend, Natalie, brought me here years ago for the burger (with fries and a bottle of pinot noir), and it remains my most-craved meal. Just go. This one’s a no-brainer.”
Bestellen - "This is a comfortable space with a concise and absolutely delicious menu. I go for the côte de boeuf (all sourced by my favorite meat purveyor in the region, Cumbrae‘s), relaxed vibe, and great service. Also, they have an open kitchen, which I’m a sucker for, and a great table in the back that would be perfect for a small celebration."
Bar Isabel - "I used to live in Madrid, so my love for Spanish cuisine runs deep. Bar Isabel has a beautiful space with Andalucian tiles that reminds me of long weekends in Seville. Order the ceviche, and if you’re a fan of octopus, definitely go for that; it is served whole, with garlicky potatoes that will make you want to fall into a blissful carb coma."
Terroni - "A go-to and a standby. There are three locations in Toronto (go to the flagship on Queen Street where the service is relaxed but super accommodating) and the vibe is always chill. Their pastas have the perfect bite and the mains are great — order both with a bottle (or carafe) of wine. It’s a solid bet for an easy weeknight (or weekend) dinner."
Fresh – "All LA transplants who moved to Toronto for filming told me that Fresh would be my saving grace – the clean eats and yummy vegan fare would remind me of home. They were certainly correct.  Whether it’s a fresh juice, the green goddess bowl with extra broccoli, the quinoa onion rings or the all star salad, I could easily eat here every single day and my tastebuds would never get bored. Oh! And if you’re a fan of hot sauce, make sure you get some of their scotch bonnet based heat they put on the table. I am certifiably obsessed with it."
Almond Butterfly – “A new gluten free bakery that has the most delicious bites and amazing espresso.  My favs are the banana bread (how is it so moist?!), the chocolate chip cookies, and the date squares. Cupcakes are plentiful, flavors change often, and it’s a solid spot to pop in for some yummy treats in a jewel box space.”
Cocktail Bar - “I’ve loved this teeny tiny space for a few years. They don’t serve any drinks with vodka, which I both love and hate all at the same time, but the fact of the matter is they don’t need it. The drinks are solid, and the mixologists are as friendly as they come. Ask for Travis."
Rasa - "This place just opened, and I am head over heels for the space. It feels like New York City to me, with a warm feeling that hugs you when you walk in the door, inviting you to stay. Great vibe, adventurous menu, and a top-notch cocktail and wine list. Highly recommended for a nightcap."
STAY
The Shangri La - "Oh, how I adore this hotel. The staff is top notch and the amenities are sublime – from the gym with infrared sauna to the awesome spa with private hammam. This will also be a hot spot for star sighting as it is next door to Soho House, the place to be for parties during TIFF."
SHOP
Cabaret Vintage - "Head here for perfect vintage finds and a staff that makes you feel as precious as a Georgia peach. I go in weekly for inspiration and little additions to my closet."
6 by Gee Beauty - "This is my favorite store for a curated selection of clothes, gifts, jewelry and fragrance. Think Assouline coffee table books, Aviator Nation frocks, and Le Labo, all within the shop that is likely smaller than your bedroom. I love that you don’t have to pilfer through racks, and I always find something I love either for myself or my girlfriends."
The Room at Hudson’s Bay - "This shop features a bespoke mix of the best niche designers. Think Wes Gordon, Giambattista Valli, and Prabal Gurung. It’s cutting-edge and classic all at the same time."
Holt Renfrew - "The ultimate luxury Canadian department store. Go for the shoe department and ready-to-wear collections, and take a mini hiatus to have a glass of bubbles and salad at the store’s lovely restaurant. You can find incredible Canadian designers within these walls; get a gift for everyone back home."
FROLIC
Kensington Market - "A local mecca for all things food and fun is several blocks of fishmongers, meat purveyors, mom-and-pop veggie stands, juice bars, and fantastic hole-in-the-wall restaurants. Throughout the summer the market has pedestrian Sundays where no cars can pass through it, and it feels like one big block party: bands performing, the smells of every exotic cuisine wafting in the air, and a relaxed vibe that makes you feel that Sunday kinda love. You can see my favorite gems within Kensington on the feature I did with Holts Muse."
Trinity Bellwoods Park - "I call this hipsters’ paradise. It’s a massive park with a huge dog run in the middle, which is ideal for my super active dog, Bogart. But beyond the normal park humdrum (tennis courts and softball field), you’ll see people set up stands for the likes of free hugs, yoga in the park, dance classes, and performance art. It’s really the mecca for meeting up with friends, throwing a frisbee until day turns to night, and listening to the ambient beat of bongo drums from another end of the park."
- Meghan Markle, September 2014
The Harbord Room and Bestellen are now permanently closed. 
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covermeinclouds · 3 years
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how i spent my 24th birthday!! in bullets
not only was it my birthday, but it was also kuya jp's (tiger's older brother) and basti's (tiger's nephew). kuya jp's at may 15 and basti's at may 12. so we all celebrated it together on may 16th!
we had SO MUCH FOOD. so much food that i invited cath over a day earlier than the planned visit because of the amount of food we had for the day.
cath gave me her gift na din. tan (her boyfriend) gave me a sober kids (his clothing brand) tote bag and cath gave me yogurt drinks and poptarts!!!
i requested for baked chicken with gravy and potato salad cause ate gi (tiger's sister) makes the best of the dish! yes, nagrequest ako HAHAHA
(the first gif) was my cake. banana dream from conti's. i was supposed to get a banoffee pie from banapple but settled for banana dream because yan yung natanggap sa grab HAHAHA no regrets! banana will forever be my favorite flavor of anything
it wasn't the only cake we had at home. we had a mango magnifico(?) cake from cara mia, basti's cake, and a black velvet cake from conti's, kuya jp's cake.
(second gif) WE ALSO HAD BUTTERED SHRIMP, MAKI, AND WAGYU. HOLY FUCKKKKK I LOVE EATING SO MUCH
NEEDLESS TO SAY BUT WE WERE ALL STUFFED BY THE END OF THE DAY
the rest of the evening was spent wide awake waiting for midnight to strike to actually celebrate my birthday.
bianca (my cousin) sent me smores brownies. THEY WERE BAKED ON REQUEST. bianca had a phase in college ata or high school na sobrang hilig niya magbake. and she made me smores brownies and i've been in love ever since and every time she asks me what food i want it's always that HAHAHAHHA
I SWEAR THEY ARE GODSENT
janara (owner of bubblegumph on ig) sent me a gift too but i didn't open it until midnight!
(third gif) janara's gift!! she gave me a cardigan. a colorblock cardigan, green shorts, and a green halter top!! super fucking cute. i truly trust her taste with clothes. walang kupas. ang ganda ng lahat ng binigay niya!!! ANO BA
tiger gave me an ADER ERROR KNITTED SWEATER!! A PURPLE ADER ERROR SWETAER! we talked about it once siguro and i didn't think he'd get it for me WHAT THE FUCK
he also got me a tiny tripod kasi nagpipicture ako sa fire escape namin and hirap ako sa tripod HAHAHAHAH
(special mention: ate gi gave me her gift 2 days earlier. she gave me a watch and rainbow laces that i immediately used sa boots ko! puta ang ganda. she knows me well :( )
before falling asleep, we watched harry potter & the sorcerer's stone. it was cath's first time! and i love that she loved it :(
balak ko talaga sa mismong birthday ko is to go to megamall to order panda express and yan na kakainin namin lahat sa bahay for the day. which i did!
kasama ko si tiger and si cath papunta sa megamall since pauwi din naman si cath sa marikina.
AND NAGKITA KAMI NI MIKA DON! i told her last week na pupunta ako don sa may 17 and she said she was going the next day daw bakit andaya tapos hanggang last minute change of plans she decided to meet up with me today
edi excited ako kasi bibigay ko na din gift ko sa kanya (i got her a taylor swift folklore notebook and a pride & prejudice book)
the 4 of us ate at pepperlunch (my favorite fucking place in the world) and caught up
i kept asking for assurance na okay na gumastos ako ngayon kasi birthday ko naman. nagguilty kasi ako ngayon pag gumagastos ako para sa sarili ko. i kept asking for assurance kung deserve ko ba. EH WHO THE FUCK GIVES A SHIT BIRTHDAY KO NAMAN AH HAHAHHA
(the last gif) SOBRANG MEANT TO BE GRABE. i remember seeing this pink floyd hoodie at cotton on at town (atc) and it was in a size s or xs and i usually get M or L when it comes to hoodies so i couldn't buy it at the time. also because i didn't have money to spend non. that was at around january or february i think? and kasama ko si tiger non and i said out loud "pag nakita ko to ulit, bibilhin ko na" AND HINDI KO SIYA NAKITA ULIT AS IN UNTIL TODAY WHAT THE FUCK
my dad is fucking giving me signs i swear to god
for context: my dad's all time favorite band is pink floyd. so every time i see pink floyd merch, even when he was still with me, i'd buy them instantly because he told me that whenever i see any good pink floyd merch i should get it kasi sayang daw minsan lang HAHAHA kaya ayon
anyway i bought it. it is lovely. and i realized how i truly do buy band merch like this and really do keep them because they're the ones i never get sick of
also got myself a grateful dead shirt
anyway i bought a shit load of panda express and went home and we ate it all at home
AND IT DIDN'T END THERE
MARGA SENT ME COOKIES. BIGLAAN NGA EH. TAPOS SOBRANG LABO KASI YUNG TAG "from marga" AMPUTA DI NAMAN GANON TAWAGAN NAMIN HAHAHAHA KAYA NALITO AKO until i saw the back of the tag sabi "mama marga" edi kilala ko na kung sino
ALEX (rivera) ALSO SENT ME COOKIES THAT SHE BAKED
PUTANGINA ANDAMI KO NANG SWEETS NANAMAN
also bea (valera) sent me mcnuggets money what the fuck sobrang gulat ako kasi bigla nalang may nagsend sakin ng pera sa gcash???? sabi ko HUH wala naman nakalagay na number kasi straight from a 711 kiosk yon tapos i saw her message siya pala nagsend
i miss her so much what the fuck
ALSO, AT 2AM OF MAY 17 mika sent me a long message which i wait for every year. nascreenshot ko nanaman to keep
i love my friends and my newfound family (the espiritus. tiger's family) there is just so much love and comfort and im so happy
my fucking mental stability allowed me a day off from feeling anything other than happiness
today was just so good for me that i forgot about my anxiety and the things that get me sad on mundane days
i love the people i am surrounded with. there is genuine love and comfort and i just feel so fucking cozy
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meisekimiu · 2 years
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5 of My Favorite Games I Played in 2021
This is my third year reflecting on the games I’ve played! Compared to last year (full of unemployment) I didn’t put as many hours into gaming, but I still enjoyed playing plenty of video grames.
Honorable Mention: Super Bogus World 2 (by hubol + Oddwarg)
I listed Super Bogus World 2 as one of my favorites last year, but I didn’t actually beat it until 2021. And damn... it gets even better. This grame is truly fantastic and I appreciate it even more now that I’ve actually completed it. There is something about this grame’s fascination with The Residents’ live version of “Loser≅Weed” from their 2013 “Wonder of Weird” tour that is so specifically relatable to me. Like what the hell... that is my obsession song what the fuck is it doing in this game being a central motif??? Yet there’s also so much other shit going on in this game that is bizarre and different it’s fascinating. It feels so intimately relatable and yet distant at the same time that it is truly a pleasure to explore this video grame.
Also I feel like to some degree all the games I put out this year were at least a bit inspired by this grame (even using Borgus Shop Pro to make a graphic for one).
5. Project Kat (by Leef 6010)
Project Kat is an RPG Maker Horror game. If you know what that specific micro-genre is then you already know exactly what this game is like. This game is still under development and I honestly don’t know what’s happening with it right now… but I enjoyed playing the initial prologue demo! I’m looking forward to more some day. It’s both cute and spooky and has that classic RPG maker game vibe to it. I also liked the music even though I think most of it was royalty free lol.
4. Yuru Camp VR Games
I love Yuru Camp so much and I loved watching Season 2 this year even if none of my friends watched it for some reason. Even though I played it in what is objectively the shittiest way possible (Nintendo Labo) the charm of the game still came through! These games really feel like little mini episodes of the show, but the game also lets you stop and just… look around and take in the atmosphere of the campsite. The games are honestly pretty short but the added details like showing text messages between characters and having little cooking cutaways with the narrator from the show really bring it together. They were both fun interactive OVA type experiences.
(also you can pet the dog and like I do think that the one “can you pet the dog” account on twitter is like poisoning all games so now everyone’s putting dog petting in games because it’s like a meme and I kinda hate that but the dog in this game is really cute and voiced by meshiya lol so it’s actually very good)
3. Famicom Detective Club Games (Missing Heir / Girl Who Stands Behind)
There’s this very specific micro-genre of “Famicom First Person Adventure Games” that’s always fascinated me. The genre is essentially the concept of a text adventure game but ported to the more limited Famicom/NES hardware, acting as primitive predecessors to the point-and-click visual novel format that we enjoy today. A few examples of this specific genre are games like Shadowgate, Princess Tomato and the Salad Kingdom, Idol Hakkenden, and of course Famicom Detective Club. The takeaway here is that if Danganronpa was made for the Famicom it’d probably look more like Famicom Detective Club than anything else. (Except Famicom Detective Club would be better lmao)
Anyway, all that is to say that when the fancy HD remakes of the Famicom Detective Club games dropped on Switch localized in english, I was really excited to play one of these games! And with actual graphics too! I have to say that both Famicom Detective Club games can get pretty infuriating at times; they’re incredibly linear and if you don’t know exactly what to do to progress you basically just have to bang your head against the wall and brute force every option multiple times until you select the exact right option the game wants you to pick to progress. But damn these games are pretty good. They’re just very high quality visual novels (at least compared to the indie ren’py stuff I usually play) and I really really really hope they make a third one that really takes advantage of the new modern visual novel engine they’re using.
2. ARCHANGEL:NEMESIS [S1E1] (by team★cpu)
I played this game in January and I knew before even finishing it that it would be going on this list. Honestly, I was anticipating it would be my game of the year (stay tuned for what that is... it will [won’t] shock you!). Everything about Archangel:Nemesis is incredible. The mood, the art style, the music, the story… even the weird spiritual word salad shit is amazing and I love it so much. Literally from the very first words of the game I knew it was going to be great.
Earlier I mentioned that Super Bogus World 2 has this blend of both specifically relatable things and yet distantly fascinating things at the same time and this game has that too. I feel strangely connected to this world and to Twigs’s story in particular but I don’t even fully know why and I’m so fascinated to see where the story could go. Immediately after playing this game my most anticipated game of the year became… well, the next game I’m going to talk about.
1. ARCHANGEL:NEMESIS [S1E2] ::: FRIDAY (by team★cpu)
I cheated a little here. For the other games on this list split into multiple installments, I counted each collection as one singular game. But honestly, that’s because with Famicom Detective Club or Yuru Camp, each new episode is just another game that’s roughly interchangable with the previous one (in other words, they’re totally fungible). When ARCHANGEL:NEMESIS Episode 2 was still in development… I honestly assumed it was going to follow a similar trend. It’d be more of what we saw in Episode 1, and hey, I thought Episode 1 was my game of the year back in January so I was totally hyped for just more of the same.
When I finally played A:N Ep2… I was floored. I had pretty high expectations and Episode 2 completely exceeded them. Episode 2 takes everything I loved about A:N Ep1 and goes completely fucking crazy with it. It is unbelievably good and without a doubt my most anticipated game now is A:N Ep3 (which looking at dev progress of that game it seems like it’s going to be even more ambitious!).
The two episodes of ARCHANGEL:NEMESIS were my favorite games this year and they won that honor by a large margin. I had to put both of them down in this list because they’re just that good. Honestly, I struggled a bit coming up with this year’s list because A:N just blew everything out of the water. I love these games. Please buy them and play them. And don’t forget to also buy emamouse’s album.
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Film School - Influencer
Film School – Influencer
Perhaps a perfect counter to our current viral-infected oft dreary lives is the band Film School, originally formed in San Francisco and more recently headquartered in Los Angeles, comprised of bandmates Greg Bertens (vocals, guitar), Nyles Lannon (guitar, backing vocals), Justin LaBo (bass), Jason Ruck (synths), and Adam Wade (drums). If you long for the salad days of My Bloody Valentine,…
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viranlly · 4 years
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What To Expect When You’re Not Expecting The Outdoors in Vancouver
in partnership with Tourism Vancouver
It’s no doubt that Vancouver is one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Some even named them one of the best cities to live in. Yes, I absolutely agree (I’ve been here 11 years now, somehow). I mean... what’s not to like? Fresh air, the mountains, oceans, and of course, the great outdoors that put Vancouver on the map as a global tourist destination.
But what if, you’re not even remotely interested in the outdoors? *I have to admit, I’m probably the least outdoorsy person out there (don’t @ me!)* Will Vancouver still be enjoyable if one is not planning to go to Capilano bridge or doing the Grouse Grind? 
The answer is yes.
Vancouver is also home to some of the most talented, hard-working and innovative chefs, bartenders, and restauranteurs in the game. Making it a city that’s filled with delicious eats, drinks, and exceptional coffee culture - don’t believe me? Ask Chris Morocco from Bon Appetit Magazine ;) Plus, we are blessed with the bountiful amount of fresh ingredients, whether it’s fruits, veggies, seafood particularly, and even meat.
Every January, the city also hosts the annual Dine Out Vancouver Festival, a culinary festival that invites both locals and visitors to explore and experience what Vancouver has to offer. For the 18th edition of Dine Out Vancouver this year, there will be 318 restaurants participating in this two-week-long festivity. If you’re local, this time of the year is also a fun time to play tourist in your own city - which, I do, occasionally.
While I might not know where Garibaldi lake is on the map, and I definitely don’t know where to go for the best three-day camping trip (not that I want to do that ever), I do know exactly where you should be sipping your martini and eat your world-renowned aburi sushi. You can trust me on that.
Without trying to sound like a know-it-all, here’s how, in my ideal world, I would spend a typical 48 hours in Vancouver. 
8:30 a.m - Ride Cycle Club.
Nothing like starting your morning with a loud, steamy and sweaty spin class. The playlist is always on-point; the instructors, typically with a sexy, raspy voice, definitely gets you going first thing in the morning. There’s so much joy in watching everyone move to the beat, all together. It’s an experience for sure.
10:30 a.m - #dailycortado at Revolver.
If you know me at all, Revolver is practically my morning home base. The rustic, charming, long hallway is usually filled with highly (or soon to be highly) caffeinated individuals, chatting, working, or geeking out about coffee and other stuff (anything from cameras to vintage Rolexes). The menu is simple and straight forward, with beans selection rotating daily -- hence, Revolver. Solid pour-over bar, well-executed, picture-perfect espresso-based bevies too. But this is not the place to order a skinny, two pumps vanilla, one pump hazelnut, caramel macchiato - if that’s even a thing lolz. 
11:30 a.m - Snack and fresh flowers at The Birds & The Beets.
By snack, I mean, a freshly sliced of pillowy yet perfectly crusty sourdough with butter and sea salt - as simple as that. Or do the one with their house-made preserves if you’re fancy. Should you need another jolt of caffeine, their coffee is pretty damn good too. Pick up some fresh flowers on your way out too. ALSO, come back later at night when this cute coffee shop turns into Juicebar,  a natural wine bar where all the cool kids hang out and drink magnums of pet-nat all night.
12:30 p.m - Deep-fried everything tacos at Tacofino Gastown.
It’s problematic how addicting the crispy chicken tacos at Tacofino can be. I’ve had my days when all I ate was variations of this crispy chicken taco: as a burrito, as a ‘salad’ bowl, as a taco again, and repeat. Juicy tender chicken,  pickled veggies, epazote chimichurri, drizzled with buttermilk chili crema - mouthwatering. Their fish tacos are also delicious, it’s, as a matter of fact, their claim to fame, nuff said. You can’t also say no to their nachos, with a glass (or pitcher) of margs, obvs.
2 p.m - Stroll and shop through Gastown.
Drooling over luscious house-plants and Japanese cookware at Old Faithful Shop, selecting new fragrances at Le Labo, I also might as well pick up body balm at Aesop. Oh, and of course, stopping by Roden Gray to see some Thom Browne.
4 p.m - Spritz o’clock at Di Beppe.
Get a table at the cafe to people-watch while drinking bottled, branded Aperol Spritz. It’s an afternoon well spent, you gotta wait til’ 5:30 for happy hour anyways ;)
5:30 p.m - Happy Hour at L’abattoir.
L’abattoir, hands down, has one of the most beautiful bars in the city, with one of the strongest beverage programs too. The cocktails, both original and classic, are always crafted with such passion and precision. The Avocado Gimlet particularly is now a L’abattoir and a Vancouver classic: bright, boozy and herbaceous. Their wine list is a fun one to explore. Whether you’re feeling playful and adventurous, or classic and familiar, the team will find the wine for you. Their happy hour is probably my favorite one in the city: short but sweet. Make sure you make it there 5:30 on the dot to score the highly coveted bar seat (find me in the corner of the bar). You MUST order their iconic baked Pacific oysters, covered in a mountain of foamy truffle-garlic butter. Oh! and the pan-fried sweetbreads on toast is unforgettably delicious. L’abbatoir Dine Out menu can be found here.
7 p.m - Dinner at PiDGin.
One of a few restaurants in Vancouver that figured out how to perfectly marry the east and the west. An Asian-inspired menu, by the way of French cooking, using the freshest ingredients from the Pacific North West. Every dish is always a burst of flavours: rich and indulging without being pretentious. The umami-filled Foie Gras rice bowl is one of the most drool-worthy dishes. So uniquely, and iconically Pidgin. It’s a dish that has stood the test of time and has been there since the restaurant opened its’ doors six years ago now. Their beverage program is also focused on showcasing Asian spirits and flavours: numerous Japanese whisky, craft cocktails, and an impressive sake library. Explore Pidgin six-course Dine Out menu here.
10:30 p.m - Nightcap at Botanist.
I’ve talked about Botanist a lot, and I mean, a lot. While they’re still relatively new, they managed to sky-rocket their way to the top of the restaurant scene. With their award-winning bar team and innovative bar menu, it’s no surprise that Botanist is one of the best bars in the country. Sitting at the bar, sipping Botanist martini, while geeking out about cocktails and spirits is always a fun way to end the night. Botanist martini is an ideal nightcap: boozy, velvety, and obviously tasty. It’s like a vesper that gets an elegant Fairmont makeover, with a Pacific North West influence. This year, Botanist is hosting a Punch Brunch as part of Dine Out Vancouver AND to kick off Vancouver Cocktail Week next year. So exciting!
Day 2
10 a.m - Breakfast at Nemesis.
A hip and happening coffee shop with an impressive brunch menu and delectable baked goods. Of course, the coffee is stellar, and the space is beautiful with bright lights streaming through the windows. Their brunch and pastries, however, have been stealing the show for quite some time now. If you’re in Gastown, the cauliflower hash and the steak and egg are essential. If you happen to be across the bridge, the burrata and scrambled eggs on croissant loaf and is to-die-for. Not to forget their dreamy, kinda fancy croissants (think about Reuben sandwich, strawberry cheesecake in the form of croissant kind of fancy). Oh, and both of their cookies: the insanely luscious classic chocolate chip and the updated ferrero-esque cookie sandwich are worth crossing the bridge for.
12.30 p.m - Aburi lunch at Miku.
If there’s that one place I usually take visitors for the sake of impressing them, it’s Miku. It’s probably one of the most well-known Vancouver restaurants that even Beyonce was spotted dining there. The menu is unique. The world-famous aburi sushi is iconic. And the seafood? It doesn’t get any fresher than what Miku offers. Let’s not forget the multi-million dollar waterfront view, overlooking the harbour and North Vancouver. Their sister restaurant Minami is doing a Dine Out Lunch special too, by the way.
2:30 p.m - Nap.
It’s absolutely necessary.
5:30 p.m - Dinner at Como Taperia.
Oh what an exciting time when Como finally opened its’ doors in Mount Pleasant last year! The premise? A no-fuss-no-muss Spanish tapas restaurant with vibrant food, fabulous Gin and Tonics, and unbeatable conservas list. The room has been buzzing with people since day one - until recently they placed second on Enroute Magazine Best new restaurant. Even more people are now trying to get in to Como. The foie burger is simply a must, and so is the crispy eggplant, drizzled with honey. The oxtail, pepper and frites is so tenderly delicious. They’re also doing fun happy hour starting at 4, offering free tapas- just like they do in Spain. Drink the El Bandarra vermut on tap while munching on the tapa, or make sure to check out their daily tortilla feature.
8 p.m - Cocktails at Hawksworth’s Bar.
Hawksworth is probably as swanky as a Vancouver restaurant can get. While the dining room is very much upscale and can be intimidating, the cocktail bar is lively and chic. Again, get a spot at the bar and start with the Hotel Georgia Cocktail: bright, juicy and refreshing, inspired by the historic hotel itself. If you’re feeling extra fancy, they have a ‘from the vault’ menu that features classic cocktails made with vintage, extremely rare spirits.
10:30 p.m - A burger and nightcap at Pourhouse.
Located in the charming water street, Pourhouse is a cocktail bar nestled in one of Gastown’s historic buildings. The room itself is very old-school America in the prohibition era - luxurious, charming and welcoming. The menu is fairly simple but everything is well-executed. The Pourhouse burger is particularly memorable. I’ve vouched for this burger as the best one in town over and over again - no, I don’t want to argue with anyone on this. Classic cocktails are always crafted so meticulously here: Manhattan, Boulevardier, or a cognac Sazerac. You can’t go wrong with any (or all) of them. Their Dine Out menu this year is outstanding and really showcase what the team can do in the kitchen.
Well, that’s one hell of a list for y’all. I surely hope this helps with planning your delicious next trip to Vancouver! 
Discover the full list of restaurants participating in this year’s Dine Out Vancouver Festival here!
See y’all in the 604 soon!
instagram @viranlly
food | lifestyle | restaurant
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arita-hello · 1 year
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清浄野菜普及研究所さんの関西を中心に広く流通しているカット野菜のパッケージのデザインもたくさん作っている。
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flowered-mp3 · 2 years
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top 5 smells, top 5 foods, top 5 words 🤍
top 5 smells:
right after rainfall in the evening
christmas (turkey, stuffing, spiced baked goods, etc.)
freshly baked croissants
browned butter
rose 31 by le labo
top 5 foods:
vietnamese sub
mango/papaya salad
spring rolls and vermicelli
mapo tofu
garlic and herb foccacia bread
top 5 words:
beloved
enlighten
fulminate
indiscriminate
aight (lmao my one inclusion of slang)
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retourauxorigines · 2 years
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Prend ton maillot on va à la plage
On se réveil en pleine forme et on part prendre le petit déjeuner. Notre boutique hôtel ne dispose pas d’une pièce suffisamment importante pour pouvoir satisfaire les clients alors il propose de le prendre dans un restaurant sur le port. L’emplacement est idéal face à la mer mais on peut dire qu’il y a deux cartes en fonction qu’on soit de l’hôtel ou pas mais notre jus d’orange frais, salade de fruit et œuf nous convient largement !
En passant par l’hôtel pour la réservation de la voiture de location on gagne 1 jour sur le tarif mais ne sera dispo qu’à partir de 14h, tant mieux nous profitons pour continuer notre balade dans le centre de Chania. On flâne tout d’abord le long de l’eau à l’est de la ville qui est beaucoup plus calme, on prend l’intérieur des rues pour retrouver le site antique réparé hier dans la nuit par notre archéologue préférée, on zigzag dans les rues vénitiennes du port, on monte sur le fort pour admirer la vue à l’infinie et bien évidement on termine par un petit repas léger avant la plage de l’après midi : salade grecque, salade haricot, petit hachis. Simple, frais et bon!
On se rappelle tous du bolide qui a été remplacé en octobre 2020 par une magnifique 208 électrique, en 2021 on retrouve le veau sur un modèle i30 pour 6 jours de location. Il est 14:20 et direction la plage au sable rose nacré de elafonissi au sud ouest de l’île.
Nous hésitions avec la lagune de balos mais les commentaires sur le type de voiture pour y accéder nous ont un peu refroidi. Mais la réalité c’est qu’il y a labos trop de vent ce jour là. D’ailleurs aparté mais ça souffle en Grèce ! Heuresement qu’on a l’habitude du mistral sinon ça aurait été la cata.
Le temps de me faire la main, de comprendre les radars, d’analyser comment doubler les voitures et 1h30 après nous voilà sur un lieu paradisiaque avec la majorité des touristes qui quittent les lieux en plus. Le site est paradisiaque, l’eau est turquoise, le sable est fin d’une couleur rosée qui s’entend sur des centaines de mer et il y a un côté plus sauvage où il nous faut marché 10 minutes pour y accéder. On croisera une mannequin (bof, comme quoi Photoshop…)faire un shooting photo.
Heureusement que nous sommes pas mi juillet et surtout pas à midi car il fait une chaleur suffocante . Malgré cela ce n’est pas évident de rentrer dans l’eau, malgré le fait qu’on air toujours pieds meme a 400m du bord… petit coup d’œil régulier pour vérifier qu’on nous vole pas les affaires et ça part en brasse. On bronze tranquille sur la serviette pendant que certaine dorme d’autre attaque un nouveau livre sur le Mexique (peut être une idée de futur voyage …). J’adore prendre un bain en fin de journée quand la température extérieure est descendue de rapprochant de celle de l’eau. avant de partir on fait un dernier tour de la plage ce qui est très agréable en marchant sur ce sable fin. Le retour à la fraîche est un peu plus long, et oui on connaît pas la route, peur de doubler la nuit. Malgré ça on arrive à 21:15 plein centre ville et à la recherche d’une place gratuite. Après un acte manqué pour une place idéale (normale c’était pas une place ^^) la chance nous sourit sur une seconde 4 mètres plus loin. Vite à la douche et après un resto complet qui nous servira le lendemain on retourne sur le même lieu que le petit déjeuner. Viande extra bonne, purée à la truffe incroyable et dessert somptueux nous régalent!! Allez hop hop hop au dodo que demain réveil 5h pour franchir les gorges de Samaria !
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Vendredi 27 mars 2020
Énormément d’émotions aujourd’hui.
Tellement d’émotions que ma pensée est saccadée.
Fractionnée.
Des paquets d’information sans grammaire ni style.
On me pardonnera.
Ou l’on me crucifiera.
À ce stade, plus rien ne m’importe.
J’ai été officiellement diagnostiquée du Covid-19.
Nous avons appelé l’ami de Victor, le chef de service au CHU de Caen. Il n’a pas semblé se rappeler vraiment de lui, et nous a envoyés vers un de ses collègues infectiologues.
Agacement de l’infectiologue.
Il aurait pu avoir la décence de le cacher. J’ai failli lui citer le serment d’Hippocrate, “Je donnerai mes soins à l’indigent et à quiconque me les demandera”, mais je me suis ravisée. Nécessité faisant loi, j’ai mis ma fierté de côté, j’ai de nouveau pensé à la citation de Michelle Obama (en province, apparemment, c’est indispensable), et j’ai laissé Victor lui décrire très professionnellement mes symptômes.
Le verdict a été sans appel.
Covid-19.
Victor a paru hésitant, lui a demandé s’il ne valait pas mieux que je sois examinée, et le médecin au bout du fil s’est emporté, tout en confirmant son diagnostic avec force décibels. J’ai à mon tour pris la parole pour lui demander où je pourrais trouver un labo pour me faire passer le test.
Il m’a répondu que ce ne serait pas nécessaire, et que de toute façon, ce n’est pas envisageable pour les labos de tester les cas bénins.
Cas bénin ?
Mais qu’en savait-il ? Qu’est-ce qui lui prouve que mon cas ne peut pas s’aggraver d’un seul coup ?
C’est là que mon instinct de survie le plus primaire a repris le dessus.
Cerveau reptilien.
Surchauffe.
Animal en moi.
Je lui ai demandé comment et où me procurer de la chloroquine.
Il m’a répété que cela ne serait pas nécessaire, que du paracétémol suffirait en cas de fièvre ou de douleurs trop intenses.
J’ai.
Cru.
Rêver.
Qu’on me réveille de ce cauchemar. Je suis atteinte du fléau du millénaire, je porte en mon sein ce monstre qui déferle tout autour de la Terre et assassine une marée d’êtres humains, et je n’ai pour seul interlocuteur que ce petit médecinet de province qui me prescrit une petite gélule jaune et bleue qui fait à peine effet en cas de rhume. Pourquoi pas une tisane au thym ?
Impression d’être un vulgaire personnage secondaire joué par une actrice cheap dans un téléfilm France 2.
Après avoir raccroché, j’ai tout de suite appelé mon homéopathe.
Répondeur.
Victor a immédiatement pris les choses en main comme un vrai chef de guerre. Il a ordonné à Dolores de me préparer une chambre propre au second pour qu’une forme de confinement soit respectée. Elle seule pourrait aller et venir entre ma chambre et le reste de la maison, tout en respectant les gestes-barrière de la plus stricte des façons.
Nouvelles normes.
Adaptation.
Survie.
Puis une fois qu'on m’a installée dans ma nouvelle chambre avec ma bouteille d’eau, mon routeur wifi, mon iPhone, mon iPad, mon ordinateur, mes Moleskine, mes stylos, et ma bien-aimée bibliothèque, il lui a demandé d’entreprendre un ménage méticuleux de toute la maison, à commencer par notre chambre.
Lui emmènerait pendant ce temps-là les enfants se promener. Il en profiterait pour me faire délivrer du paracétamol.
Je ferme les yeux.
Douleur brûlante.
Courage.
Résilience.
Il va falloir tenir.
Soudain, une illumination. Je rassemble le peu de forces qu’il me reste pour crier le nom de Victor afin qu’il vienne. Je me rappelle qu’il est sorti.
Avec les enfants, lui qui en a si peu l’habitude.
Cet homme est merveilleux, et chaque jour, je mesure la chance que j’ai d’être avec lui.
Je l’appelle sur son téléphone. Il décroche. Quel homme bon. Je lui demande en toute humilité s’il lui serait possible de me prendre également de la cholorquine à la pharmacie en donnant son numéro de médecin.
Il me répond qu’il va essayer et raccroche.
Je me plais à l’imaginer un peu maladroit, seul dans la rue avec Édouard et Henri.
Mais rassurant.
Cherchant à bien faire.
Sans perdre son autorité naturelle et son flegme.
Je suis touchée de l’imaginer seul avec ses fils. Mes trois mousquetaires, partis quérir le remède dont leur reine a besoin pour survivre. Mes deux enfants. Si jeune, et sauvant déjà une vie, la vie-même de celle qui la leur a donné.
Ma vie.
La vie.
Seule dans mon lit à attendre mes hommes, une épiphanie me transporte : j’ai sauvé deux vies.
En décidant ce confinement strict de mes parents dans la dépendance, je les ai sauvés de ce mal immonde qui aurait à coup sûr eu raison de leur santé fragile. Un rire de joie et de bonté m’envahit. Comme je suis heureuse et fière ! Quelles que soient les conséquences néfastes auxquelles je dois me préparer pour moi-même, je pourrai toujours jouir de la sérénité d’avoir fait ce qu’il fallait pour mes bien-aimés parents.
J’attends que Dolores ait fini de passer l’aspirateur au premier.
C’est long.
Long...
Un pâle sourire encore perceptible sur mes lèvres, malgré l’interminable attente, je reprends mon iPhone pour appeler mes parents, afin de les tenir au courant de cette situation.
C’est ma mère qui décroche. Je lui annonce que je suis atteinte du Covid-19, en phase avancée – une formule qui me paraît tout à fait adaptée pour décrire mon état. Elle me fait immédiatement part de son inquiétude à mon endroit. J’entends mon père derrière elle qui cherche à savoir ce qu’il se passe, et j’entends ma mère qui le lui explique.
– Qu’est-ce qu’on peut faire ? me demande ma mère.
Attendrie, je réponds d’une voix très faible :
– Pour m’aider, ce qu’il faut absolument que vous restiez chez vous, bien confinés, surtout lorsque les enfants jouent dehors – ce qui sera le cas aujourd’hui, car Dolores fait un grand ménage de la maison pour désinfecter. J’ai besoin de savoir que mes chers parents que j’aime sont à l’abri de ce fléau, et protégés le mieux possible, comme c’est le cas depuis que nous sommes arrivés. C’est crucial. Et pour vous, et pour ma tranquillité d’esprit – ce luxe indispensable à ma guérison.
Ma mère était émue et attendrie au bout du fil.
Lorsque nous avons raccroché, j’ai eu la satisfaction d’avoir été, encore une fois, une personne exemplaire, au sens strict.
Bien au-dessus de la mêlée.
Grand Seigneur.
Au retour de Victor, Dolores n’avait pas fini de nettoyer le manoir. À sa décharge, ce n’est pas seulement dû à sa lenteur : cette bâtisse est immense. Mais je repense à Marisol. Comme elle me manque. Quand tout cela sera fini, quand nous rentrerons à Paris, je la rappellerai. Peut-être que nous pourrions trouver un arrangement pour qu’elle revienne vivre avec nous.
Nous verrons.
Cependant, l’heure du déjeuner approchait à grand pas, et Dolores, incapable de faire plusieurs choses en même temps, n’a rien préparé. Victor m’appelle au téléphone. Le pharmacien n’a pas pu lui délivrer de choloroquine, parce qu’il n’en avait plus.
Colère.
L’égoïsme des gens m’atterre.
Et puis cet esprit d’apprenti sorcier... On ne prend de la chloroquine que lorsque le diagnostic ne fait pas l’ombre d’un doute, comme c’est le cas pour moi !
Dolores me monte mon Doliprane (j’ai horreur des génériques), et j’en engloutis une gélule avec quelques gorgées d’eau.
Je respire.
Coup de fil de Victor, qui me demande comment faire pour ce midi. Il est affamé, et les enfants aussi. Il ne peut décemment pas entrer dans la maison tant que Dolores n’a pas fini de tout nettoyer...
Je ne vois qu’une solution.
Je raccroche et je rappelle ma mère.
Lorsque je lui expose la situation, elle a l’air surpris – presque outré. Il me paraît pourtant indispensable que tout le monde y mette du sien. Elle finit donc par accepter de nourrir mes chevaliers servants en premier, avant elle et mon père.
Un peu plus tard, je l’observe par la fenêtre dresser le couvert sur la table de la petite terrasse accolée à la dépendance, et y poser au milieu une grande salade de toutes les couleurs. Ce n’est pas très élaboré, comme menu, mais enfin... à la guerre comme à la guerre !
Il est presque treize heures lorsque mes hommes se mettent à table. Au loin, j’entends l’aspirateur de Dolores qui poursuit son chemin au rez-de-chaussée et qui avale toute la poussière qu’il peut. Merveille de technologie, quand on y réfléchit. Bijou de technique. Courageuse machine, dont le bruit couvre à peine le chant des oiseaux.
Mésanges.
Bergeronnettes.
Merles.
Et mes petits étourneaux qui picorent la manne très simple concoctée au pied levé par ma mère.
Celle-ci pose ensuite une boîte de camembert ainsi que trois parts de gâteau maison dans des petits assiettes sur le rebord de la fenêtre, dont elle referme ensuite les deux battants.
Le repas se termine avec ce gâteau de grand-mère, mets trivial et roboratif.
Brut.
Je suis heureuse que mes enfants aient l’opportunité d’observer un peu ce que l’on mange dans les campagnes françaises.
Ma mère me rappelle pour savoir si c’est Dolores qui débarrassera, mais je n’aime mieux pas mélanger les services à vaisselle : si l’on se laisse aller au désordre, c’est la foire d’empoigne dans les placards des habitations.
Je lui conseille plutôt d’attendre quelques heures, de sorte que l’éventuelle charge virale s’estompe et qu’elle puisse débarrasser tout cela en toute sécurité – et puis après tout, ni Victor, ni Édouard, ni Henri ne présentent le moindre symptôme. Elle soupire et raccroche sans autre forme de procès.
J'effectue quelques exercices de respiration pour évacuer son agressivité.
Au milieu de l’après-midi, je suis réveillée par un bruit de vaisselle. Je me redresse dans mon lit pour voir au dehors : ce sont les garçons qui, en jouant au ballon, ont renversé le broc d’eau et l’ont cassé en mille morceaux.
Les aléas de la vie.
Vie de parent.
Étourdie par le mal qui m’étreint, je me rendors immédiatement.
Je suis réveillée par un coup de fil de ma mère. Je ne sais pas pourquoi je décroche.
Elle surjoue la panique pour m’annoncer que ma cousine, celle qui n’a de cesse de s’apitoyer sur son sort, a elle aussi attrapé le Covid-19. Je lève les yeux au ciel.
Évidemment.
Un rhume qui traîne, elle s’imagine l’avoir.
Ma mère insiste : les pompiers sont en train de l’emmener à l’hôpital local.
Je ris intérieurement en pensant à la tête que feront les urgentistes, et aux plaisanteries de carabin qu’ils s’échangeront lorsqu’ils verront débarquer cette hypocrondriaque en pleine santé.
Pour couper court à cette discussion inutile, je lui demande si elle a été testée positive à ce virus, à quoi ma mère répond : “Enfin Ludivine, tu sais bien, on ne teste plus les gens, sauf les cas graves, donc elle sera probablement testée bientôt”.
Ça, je demande à voir.
Pour l’instant, elle n’a pas été testée.
Comme c’est commode.
Nous raccrochons, et je me rendors paisiblement jusqu’à ce que Dolores m’apporte une soupe. Une soupe à quoi ? Je n’en sais rien. C’était du jamais vu : cette soupe n’avait aucun, mais vraiment aucun goût.
Quiconque chercherait à concocter un plat volontairement insipide n’y parviendrait pas avec autant de réussite que Dolores.
De nouveau, tristesse des papilles.
Mais je n’ai plus la force de me battre aujourd’hui.
—Ludivine de Saint Léger
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wiremagazine · 4 years
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DESTINATIONS: LIFE HOUSE, COLLINS PARK HOTEL
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By Rafa Carvajal
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I recently enjoyed a wonderful stay at the Life House, Collins Park hotel in Miami Beach, including a delicious dinner at its Mama Joon restaurant. Life House was founded in 2017 by Rami Zeidan, a real estate and hotel executive, whose brand creates lifestyle, boutique hotels at an affordable price point for travelers who value world-class design, technology and efficient operations. Rami believes in connecting people with new places by celebrating the heritage of the neighborhoods where his hotels are located. You can learn more at lifehousehotels.com.
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This 52-room hotel delivers an accessible luxury experience in the fast growing Collins Park neighborhood, just steps from The Bass contemporary art museum and Miami City Ballet. You will be staying in a historic streamline deco building built in 1934 by the Collins Canal. The Canal was constructed by John Collins, who colonized modern day South Beach and focused on sustainable farming and trade with the mainland. My room featured soft coastal tones and a number of items created in partnership with local Miami Beach artisans, such as custom millwork and handwoven tapestry. I also really enjoyed the fresh Revival linens, Le Labo bath products, and relaxing rain shower.
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During my sojourn, I had a delicious dinner at Mama Joon, which features veg-forward homestyle Mediterranean cuisine with a strong Lebanese influence from Rami Zeidan's heritage, handpicked family favorite dishes, and additional fare from Southern Italy and Greece. Mama Joon's dishes were created collaboratively with the local Miami culinary team of Executive Chef Harry Capacetti from Matador Room and Bar and Restaurant Director, Hakien Pagan, from the EDITION Hotel. "We take great pride in creating and delivering on elegant, high quality food and drinks, and seek to serve the people, not just the elite. We're really excited to partner with Rami and the Life House team to make Mama Joon an accessible experience," explained Chef Capacetti. The restaurant menu features a variety of signature dishes that are all meant to be shared and range from $14 to $32.
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I started my delectable dinner with a stiff TiCopa cocktail with mezcal, Chartreuse, passion fruit liqueur and firewater bitters; a selection of fresh Mediterranean breads; and the Mama's Mezze with a mixture of authentic and modern Mediterranean dips and dishes set in colorful ceramics that included a house labneh, house-made marinated chili feta and tabouli, falafel, fried chickpeas, beet hummus, baba ghanoush, and Aegean olives, served with za'atar manousheh.
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My second courses, served family style, were the Beet Salad with cucumber, heirloom tomato, feta, olives and red wine vinaigrette; Halloumi, Avocado Flatbread with seasonal herb salad; and Roasted Cauliflower with shawarma spice, delicata squash, za'atar herbs, lemon, capers, raisins and sunflower seeds.
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The third courses were Grilled Lamb Chops with cucumber, olives, goat cheese and mint; Za'atar Spiced Chicken with chili roasted carrots, spinach and house made spiced yogurt; and Florida Clams with leeks, lemon, chili and charred sourdough.
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You can enjoy Mama Joon Monday through Sunday from 7 a.m. to 11 p.m. and the hotel's lounge until 1:30 a.m. – offering coffee and tea creations, fresh juices and local pastries at Mama's Cafe during the day, while transforming into Mama's Bar at night and serving refreshing, spritz cocktails featuring ingredients like falernum, kaffir lime and herb infused Mastika.
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Life House, Collins Park. 2216 Park Avenue, Miami Beach
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This was originally published in Wire Magazine Issue 26.2019
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insuburbia · 4 years
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Officially feeling done with adulting. If you’ve watched my Stories, you’ll know what I mean. 😩 I’m feeling so drained already and I’m going to have family over tomorrow for Thanksgiving _ BTW, thanking my past self for deciding to keep things super low key this year and making it potluck. I’m only responsible for sweet potatoes, salad and cranberry sauce 😬MIL, SIL and my mom are bringing other dishes _ Here's my #skincareroutine for tonight, Wednesday, 11/27/19 1️⃣Hanyul Artemisia Cleansing Oil 2️⃣Lait U 3️⃣Good Molecules Hyaluronic Acid Serum* 4️⃣Oligo Proteines Marines on undereyes only for brightening 5️⃣Paula's Choice 1% Retinol Booster* 2 pumps mixed with Dr Jart gel cream 6️⃣Dr. Jart Cicapair Soothing Gel Cream* 7️⃣Skinmedica Lytera 2.0 8️⃣Le Labo lip balm _ * = PR sample #hanyul#lelabo#drjart#Biologiquerecherche#paulaschoice#goodmolecules#beautylish#skincarediary#skincarelover#oilyskincare#skincarejunkie#skincareobsessed#beautyroutine https://www.instagram.com/p/B5ZfD5RADMa/?igshid=1rm71x0f69cl9
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