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#disclaimer: don’t put heavy things on your records kids
jojo-schmo · 8 months
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Metadede Week Day 2: “First Meeting”
I thought working together would be a one-time occurrence
But here we are years later still dancing around each other
Repeating some of the same motions
But their meaning has changed
Song: “Infinity Repeating” by Daft Punk
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micallum · 9 months
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May I copy your notes? (Melvyn Jaminet x OFC)
PART I. ACQUAINTANCES | AO3 LINK 2249 words
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Image by @oscar-piastri from x
Full disclosure: I have never written rugby fics so please do not be mad if I do not get things right, okay? Thanks.
Disclaimer: I DID NO PROOFREADING, SORRY.
What makes a jock? Is it the muscles or the attitude? This is not something Maisie has given much, or any thought to at all. She signed up for a good college, kept her grades up and enjoyed her clubs and spare time as much as she could. Getting that degree in Marketing was the ultimate goal, and she was methodical about her studies. Having a scholarship was a good incentive to always find a way to make things work. 
Without a doubt, her bags were too heavy, but there was no helping it; she needed her books and her different coloured pens and markers. She had a peculiar transparent plastic bag, which she used to get into the library and sign out books to study from. 
That morning she had already been to the library and took out two books. Each for a different class. 
She enjoyed the kind of lessons Professor Claude was teaching. He had two assistants, one of which helped with practice lessons and the other one which helped record and upload all classes to the school’s students’ website. 
Her seat was always near the center of the classroom, and she found herself trapped in the graphs and economic theories Professor Claude went on and on about. The seats at her sides had been empty for almost two weeks. She knew it was a difficult course and it only awarded a couple of credits, but she liked it.It helped that it only took three hours of her time to be in the classroom. Maisie made the best of the empty seats next to her, getting comfortable by placing her bags on one of the seats and spreading her notebook and pencil bag on the space for the other person to her left. She put her water bottle to her right and often forgot to drink while furiously copying the examples from the board in colorful notes and doodles. 
It was that morning, on the first lesson of the week, that a seemingly new student showed up a good 45 minutes into the 60 minute lecture. He had broad shoulders and a strong build, he was one of the tallest guys in the class. Not unlike other students, he wore a pair of shorts and a shirt. The odd thing about him was his empty-looking backpack. 
He walked in and walked to the back, in a swift move he pulled both of Maisie’s bags up and placed them on the next seat over before sitting down as if the bags weren’t ridiculous in weight. 
Maisie’s eyes were glued to the screen where the professor was showing another theory with a formula. Her hand kept writing on the paper and her mouth was agape, completely immersed in the work ahead of her. 
The strange student looked at the screen for a moment and then his eyes turned to her. He leaned to his right, and reached out to play with her pencil case. 
“Hey.” He whispered. “Have you been here the whole time?”
Maisie blinked, “what?” she whispered back. 
“Did you arrive to class on time?” He kept his voice down, fingers tossing the small fur ball on the zipper of the pencil bag. 
She hummed in confirmation, nodding slowly without missing a word of the class ahead of them. 
“Cool, so...uh... may I borrow your notes?” He wondered. 
Maisie put her pen down and reached for a neon green gel pen, which made the stranger leave her case alone. She eyed her notes quickly, wondering why he was speaking to her in the first place. “I don’t think I know him…?”
“Uhm…” Maisie was unsure how to reply. 
“... and that will be all for today, we don’t have time for the next topic. See you here on Thursday.” The professor announced and a couple of students started asking him questions right away. 
“So?” She finally looked at him. 
He looked strong and big. He was hunched over, leaning towards her a bit. He smiled like a little kid and his eyes showed a gentleness true to a kid. 
She gave in, she had to. She couldn’t bring herself to say no. Not when he gave her that sweet boyish smile. She forced herself to look away and mumbled he could take her notes after Thursday, begrudgingly admitting she liked to revise for that class on tuesdays. To which he nods, thanking her. 
“I’ve got some catching up to do.” He said while she picked up her stuff. 
Once the two stood up from their chairs, the clock read 9:02 o’clock. Maisie still had another class that day at 10am but with some spare time for a coffee. She thanked the stranger when he handed her the two bags. Not without noticing how it seemed to weigh nothing for him while she felt her entire body leaning towards the side the bags were hanging from her shoulder. 
“My name is Melvyn, by the way.” 
“Maisie,” she shook hands with him and began walking outside. 
Melvyn followed and once outside the pair said goodbye only to meet again at the same spot on Thursday. 
It turned out Melvyn was not too good at sitting down and quietly listening to lectures. Maisie did ask why he was taking that class. He was working towards a Business Major, so he needed it. Besides, he was in the rugby team so he needed to keep his grades up or he would be kicked off the team. 
“Oh, so you train every day?” She asked him as he put away her notebook in his large backpack. 
“Yeah, sometimes early morning, sometimes evening… I swear I am not this bad in every class. I don’t know what’s wrong but Professor Claude puts me to sleep so I end up tuning out.”
Maisie shrugged, unable to relate to his feelings. “Don’t worry about it, just please make sure to give them back on Monday. I will be in room 305B at 10am.” 
Melvyn tilted his head to the side, “do you take psychology?” 
She sighed in surprise, “well… yes.” 
“Cool. See you then, Miss thing!” He turned to walk away, leaving her with a simple wave. 
“Later…” She pulled her bags up and turned the opposite way. 
In her head she was hoping he wouldn’t lose her notes, but just in case she had taken pictures of the last few lessons. She wondered why he wouldn’t also take pictures instead of taking her notebook with him. But who was she to judge? Maybe he knew he wouldn’t copy them then. Or something… 
The borrowing of notes happened again the following week, with Melvyn showing up on Thursday with a sleeveless shirt and a couple of long kinesiology bands. She got curious and asked after eyeing it for a good minute. 
Melvyn was nonchalant about everything, or so it seemed. He told her about his games and how rugby worked. Maisie admitted she had watched a few matches growing up but had not followed any teams since starting college. 
“Ohhh, you should come to see us play on Friday! We’re good, you know?”
Maisie’s cheeks turned pink, “Friday?” She blew air out of her mouth, “I’ve cinema club on Fridays.” Melvyn shrugged. “But good luck!”
The two waved and walked in opposite ways as usual.
This type of exchange would go on for almost a full month, with Melvyn handing back the notebook every Monday at 10am as she walked out of her psychology classroom. They would talk for a while in the hallway and then walk away. The friendship grew at a slow pace, and happened organically. On Thursdays Maisie knew he would be outside, most probably leaning on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. She did not bother her notebook away, she knew she was going to hand it to him. 
And she was surprised when Melvyn brought up the topic of a paper. He had to write a paper for his Real Estate Class. It was worth almost half the grade, and he was worried he would not be able to hand in something coherent. 
Maisie asked him if any of his friends was taking that class with him, to which he replied by saying most of his friends were on the team too and studying sports sciences. She was the only friend he could rely on for this. 
The paper was not due until the following week. So there was still enough time for Melvyn to get it done. He put his hands together and swore he would beg her if he had to. 
“Please don’t.” She sighed outside of the classroom. 
Looking down at her watch she realized they had been talking for almost 20 minutes. It was her coffee time, so she began walking towards the stairs so she could get to the small cafeteria in the building next door. 
“Come on, Maisie!” He made playful puppy eyes at her as he followed her. 
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes, “We can meet in the library tomorrow. I will reserve a study room at 4, so be there on time.”
“4pm?” He lit up, hands dropping at his sides. “Got it, thank you Miss Beau!” 
Maisie frowned, turning to him “Excuse me?” 
“Beaufoy, right?” He gave her a small side smile, grabbing his cap and pulling it off to put it back on but backwards. “That’s your last name, yes?” 
Maisie nodded, reminded that she always doodled her name on the top of every page in her notebooks. A habit she kept from elementary school. 
“What’s yours?” She asked, realizing that she did not know his last name. 
“Jaminet,” he pulled the door open and the pair stepped into the fresh morning air. “See you tomorrow then!”
He was a jock, no doubt. Melvyn was able to write the paper, the problem was that his ideas were spread throughout with little order. Maisie read over the text on his computer and began making notes on a sheet of paper. She did not need to take the class to know how to properly present this. 
Maisie then explained to him what her notes meant and told him to start over but basing his new draft on the first one. Melvyn almost seemed shocked with the idea of writing another draft. Why not just edit this one? Maisie pushed his cap off his head and told him to listen to her. 
The result was much better, so the rugby player admitted her way was better than his. After only 3 hours the paper was clearer and easier to read. Maisie rubbed her eyes after the final read of the day. She gave him a thumbs up and advised him to check his sources again, adding them and then it would be ready. Melvyn smiled from ear to ear in glee thanking her profusely. 
Outside the weather was beginning to get colder, with winter hitting the country oddly late in the last months of the year. It was dark and Melvyn felt guilty about sending his friend home in a bus. 
“When’s the next one?” He asked her as they walked towards the nearest bus stop. 
Maisie covered her mouth, hiding a yawn from him. Her eyes showed tiredness but she remained her usual cheerful self. 
“Hm? In 20 minutes, I think.” The pair stopped in front of the bus schedule at the bus stop and confirmed this. 
“Why don’t you let me give you a ride?” Melvyn offered sheepishly brushing his bearded jawline with his hand. 
She thought about it for a moment, to be honest she did not feel like waiting 20 minutes when she could be home in half that time. But to make Melvyn go out of his way to take her home? She was about to say no when a couple of drunk students walked past on their way to their dorm room across from campus. 
“I-” the two of them looked at the drunk twenty-somethings. “Yes please.”
Melvyn nodded, showing her the way to the parking lot. He helped her put on his helmet since he did not have another one and then announced he would not drive too fast. 
There was no way around it, Maisie had to hold on to Melvyn. Although he did not seem especially excited or bothered by it, she decided to not make a fuss out of it and simply wrapped her arms around his waist, holding on to her own arm at the front. 
Not even 10 minutes later she was getting off the bike right in front of her dorm building. Melvyn made a mental note about it, they had never previously spoken about their dorm situations. He was in a sort of unofficial fraternity, sharing rooms with other players from the team. In the meantime he was amused to learn that his friend was in the strictest catholic dorm. 
“Thank you!” She put the helmet on his hand. “I’ll see you on Monday. Good luck with your game tomorrow!” 
He stayed seated on his bike, “Aren’t you coming? I think you would like meeting the guys…” 
Maisie blinked, “sorry, my sister’s in town tomorrow.” 
Melvyn nodded, remembering the vague comment she made about it the day before. He waved and pulled the helmet on as he waved. Maisie went inside and waved from there through the glass doors. 
Why did Melvyn feel disappointed she could not make it to his games ever?
To be continued...
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luvbuggyyy · 1 year
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hey there! I’m bug, she/they, 18+ and I’m knee-deep in steddie! I made this blog in case anyone wanted to screech at me about my fics, but also just to have a space dedicated to my current hyperfixation! I’ll update this lil pinned with my current works and my WIPs as they change :)
uhhh I don’t have a DNI or anything but just. Be kind to me and each other. That’s pretty much it.
Disclaimer (which is also posted on all of my fics lol): I haven’t actually seen a lick of stranger things (yet). I’m insane. Sometimes my writer brain and neurodivergence fuse and let me understand 70-85% of a character without even glancing at their source material. I just know actually watching the show will make me worse. I do intend to watch it, but I’m trying to get the hyperfixation to calm down a little before I even attempt it. Regardless, if you give my fics a chance, I hope you enjoy them! I have fun writing them. Check em out below! 
Last updated: 12/16/22
ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvbuggy/pseuds/luvbuggy
In Progress
girl, put your records on - currently two chapters, 11k+
“Off the Record,” Eddie groans, slapping his hand to his face. “If that’s not the cheesiest shit I’ve ever seen—“
“I know, but you’re gonna love the employee discount.” She pulls on his arm until he stumbles after her.
They peruse the store for a bit. They’ve got Wham playing on the overhead speakers and while Eddie does manage not to vomit, he doesn’t bother suppressing a giant eyeroll.
He’s gonna be a snob if he works here. He knows it. He’s right to be a snob. Music is for everyone in theory, but it’s supposed to have meaning and soul, not just a catchy chorus or synth or whatever the fuck. It’s supposed to have a message. People don’t get that anymore. What’s the point of music if it doesn’t rock you to your core? A good song changes the world. Music is the universal human connector.
But, here’s the thing. He has a heart. And Chrissy’s beaming at him with wide, sparkling eyes, an ABBA record in her hands, and his heart tells him to do whatever the fuck she wants. Even if it means choking back his snob-hood. Normal!AU where Eddie would follow his best friend anywhere, including into hell--AKA Starcourt.
in the dead of night (love bites, love bites) - 3/8 chapters, 29k+
Steve bolts upright as his breathing kicks into high gear. His hand finds his bat’s handle and within seconds he’s creeping further into the house. Everything is still dark and empty, just as he left it. He creaks down the stairs.
Thud. Thud.
The front door.
He gives the bat a quick spin, warming up his wrists. No way it’s Robin or any of the kids, they would’ve called or been yelling for him by now. There’s nothing outside but silence and the dull impacts, like something heavy’s relentlessly colliding with the door.
He tiptoes down the stairs. The door shakes in its frame. He gingerly undoes the latch, takes a few quick breaths, and throws the door open, raising his bat to swing.
Standing in the doorway is a creature that looks frighteningly like Eddie Munson.
WIPs/ideas bouncing in my brain like the windows screensaver
- future fruity four (ronance + steddie) where they get married to beard for each other. exploring what it means to build a home with and for the ones you love. normal au romcom vibes + background drumcheer - in progress
- first kill au (i’m insane for this one truly). not a one to one au but more the vibes of their universe. undercover legacy vamp eddie falls head over heels for monster hunter steve, sworn into the guild by adoptive dad and hunter Hopper. background ronance ft werewolf robin. modern au. - still cooking
- peter pan pirate au (sighs loudly). Prince Steven’s shitty little life turns upside down thanks to a mischievous, handsome Devil of a pirate and his band of scrappy thieves. ft ronance - in progress
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wandaromanova · 3 years
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Lost
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: mentions of cancer, death, cussing
A/N: hello! i’d like to put a disclaimer that i am not in any way knowledgeable of the medical field and all of the terminology and information used in this fic was found through research! happy reading <3
anon requested: hiiiii !! can i request like an angst into fluff natxfem!reader one shot where the reader has a really bad day and takes it out on nat and hurts her feelings and so they go to bed angry. but the reader realizes their mistake and the next morning just wakes her up by showering her with love and then takes the whole day to do cute little date things with her? like making her favorite meal or like dancing in the kitchen to their favorite song late at night or just super fluffy things? if not, that’s okay!! have a good day <3
Summary: The heavy weight of her profession gets to Y/N and she takes her anger out on her loving girlfriend; Natasha Romanoff.
Word Count: 3K | navigation
please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3
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Becoming a doctor was no easy feat.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Once high school is completed, one must receive your bachelor’s degree before taking the MCAT exam and applying to medical school. After four years of medical school, you must endure a year as an intern before being promoted to a resident. 
Depending on what specialty one has selected, residency can span from three to seven years. Fellowships follow after but are typically an optional course that provides extra training. 
Yes, there are a lot of necessary steps to take in order to set foot into the medical world, but somehow, the years of foreplay could never compare to being a full-fledged physician; and you knew this all too well.
You are a pediatric oncologist and your job was to diagnose and provide treatment to children and teenagers who had cancer. You specialized in hematology; the treatment of blood disorders.
You were the head of pediatric oncology in a Manhattan hospital. You dealt with a lot of patients, but a two-year-old little girl named Sarah was secretly your favorite. 
Despite being diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia, Sarah’s positivity and playful personality never faltered.
Even if she didn’t understand the circumstances because of her young age, you knew she was suffering. Regardless of it all, every session you had with her was endearing.
You met with the child once a week to administer chemotherapy. Her enthusiasm never failed to have you awestruck. Most of your patients were exhausted from the treatments, but not Sarah. 
She was a hyper child who would attempt to sing Frozen songs, performing as you tried to fight a smile from taking over your features. She had a stuffed Olaf doll that she brought with her to every visit and it was heartwarming to see her hug the doll close to her chest. 
Sarah would even bring you drawings every week that you would keep in your locker. You’d admire each and every one of the drawings, even if you couldn’t really tell what they were.
You’d grown fond of the little girl in the past two months you had been treating her. You were also relatively close to her parents, who were probably the kindest people you’ve ever encountered. It made sense that Sarah was the ball of sunshine she was, she obviously got it from her parents.
Most times, parents were on edge and extremely short-tempered. If parents saw you often, that meant that their child was diagnosed with some form of cancer. Understandably, they would be rather hostile whilst interacting with you, but you never took their behavior personally. 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
If you were in their shoes, you were positive that you wouldn’t be very friendly either. 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
You had grown fond of the beaming child. You were aware that growing emotionally attached to patients was unprofessional, but how could you not? 
You adored children and for that very reason, you had chosen a specialty that allowed you to help kids as much as medicine would allow. You always had a soft spot for kids and you found joy in helping them as best as you possibly could.
Sarah had a very good chance at pulling through. With consistent treatment and her young age, her survival rate was around 68%. Those were considerably good odds in these circumstances. Not to mention, the chemotherapy seemed to be paying off. At the rate she was improving, she was predicted to be out of the woods soon enough.
However, the child had developed a bacterial infection. Since she had been receiving chemotherapy, the treatment had damaged her white blood cells which are responsible for fighting off infections. 
All you could do was provide antibiotics to try and fight off the infection. You had monitored her for some time in hopes of seeing any sign of improvement, but unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. Her immune system was extremely vulnerable and there wasn’t any way to reverse the damage. 
Your heart was torn to pieces when you delivered the news to her parents. They broke down in the hallway outside of Sarah’s room as you informed them of Sarah’s rapidly shortened life expectancy. It was only a matter of time before the young child would pass and honestly, this was what you hated most about your job.
You hated that you couldn’t help every single patient. You hated how cruel the world could be to take away an innocent child from their loving parents. 
You allowed her parents to spend time by her bedside. They laid on either side of her bed, clinging onto her for dear life. What broke you the most was the paleness of Sarah’s once glowing skin. Her smile was still present but didn’t quite reach her eyes like it used to. 
Her parents quietly sang ‘Love Is An Open Door’ to Sarah. You felt your heart clench in a bittersweet way as you silently watched. Normally, Sarah wouldn’t hesitate to join in, but her lack of breath prevented her from doing so. All she could do was close her eyes and lightly nod her head along to their voices. 
Sarah passed hours later and it was an extremely somber experience. Hearing the cries of parents who lost their children wasn’t easy and it never would be. Your job had its pros and cons, and this was the biggest negative.
You fought back your own tears as you exited the room, giving the two mourning parents some privacy after you recorded Sarah’s time of death. You found the nearest restroom and allowed the tears to fall down your face. 
A pure soul had been ripped away from the world, never having the chance to experience the great things life had to offer.
•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•
4 Hours Later
You trudged into your loft, immediately taking off your coat and hanging it up before tossing your keys on the small table by the front door. 
Your girlfriend, Natasha, had heard your arrival and quickly exited the bedroom to greet you, a wide smile on her face. However, her smile fell when she noticed your defeated state. 
Your shoulders were slumped as you slouched slightly and your eyes were dripping with sadness. 
“Honey? What’s wrong?” Natasha approached you while you stood frozen in front of the door. Her hands came up to cup your cheeks as she stared at you in concern, her eyes scanning over your features. 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
“I lost Sarah.” 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Natasha’s eyes widened and her heart sunk at your words. She was aware of how much you adored the two-year-old. Once a week, you would rave about the child and how adorable she was at the dinner table. You would go on and on about how Sarah would sing to you, draw pictures for you, and bring along stickers to place onto your coat.
The redhead loved how happy you looked whenever you spoke about any of your patients, but most especially Sarah. It brought Natasha some joy of her own to see you speak animatedly about Sarah; your happiness was her happiness. 
So, the news hurt her almost as much as it hurt her. She knew how much you loved Sarah, despite never saying it straight out.
“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I know how much you cared about her. Are you okay?” Natasha’s voice was oozing with sympathy. You couldn’t help but feel irritated by her question. 
You tore her hands off of your cheeks and walked past her and into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water as the redhead watched you intently. 
“Am I okay? I’m fine! It’s not like I lost an extremely young patient today or anything. What kind of stupid fucking question is that, Natasha?” You took a sip of cold water to try and calm yourself damn, but your attempt was futile. 
The redhead made her way into the kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the island as you took another sip of water, eyes burning a hole into her head over the rim of the glass. 
“I know, that was a dumb question. I just want to help you, Y/N/N.” Natasha remained calm and patient as she spoke to you. She was no stranger to the loss of a person she desperately tried to save and knew all too well the sadness and anger that accompanied the tragedy. She was an Avenger, after all. 
“I don’t want your help and I don’t need you!” You slammed your cup onto the counter as you raised your voice. Honestly, it was surprising that you hadn’t shattered the glass with the amount of force you exerted. 
Natasha felt an ache in her chest as you yelled at her. She knew that you weren’t in the right state of mind and didn’t take it personally, but that didn’t make your words hurt any less. 
“You save entire cities and I can’t even save a single fucking person!” You were turning red at this point, tears of frustration streaming down your face. The redhead hated seeing you cry, but she knew better than to approach you at this moment. 
“Babe, you save so many pe-” Natasha’s tried to speak, but you quickly interjected. 
“If you’re going to try and spew some philosophical bullshit to me right now, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear another god damn word from your mouth.”
The redhead looked down defeatedly. She had never seen you so upset, let alone direct your frustrations towards her. Her eyes fell down to the marble counter between you both before looking up at you. You were breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. 
Without another word, Natasha retreated back to the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind her. You watched her until she was out of your view and let out a sigh. Your hands gripped the edges of the kitchen island, supporting your weight as you shut your eyes. 
You brought a hand up to your face and pinched the bridge of your nose. After a few minutes, you made your way into the living room, chucking off your shoes before collapsing onto the couch. You didn’t feel like interacting with Natasha anymore tonight, knowing that you most likely wouldn’t be able to control your temper. 
You were just so fed up with the painful losses you had to endure from your profession. 
You knew that being a doctor was more dark clouds and thunder, than sunshine and rainbows, but you just wished that for once, the weather forecast would work in your favor. 
The emotional day had finally caught up to you. Your body relaxed as you sunk further into the couch, eyes fluttering shut as you succumbed to a much-needed slumber. 
Unbeknownst to you, Natasha was still awake. She laid flat on her back and stared up at the ceiling in thought. She was mad at you, as much as she didn’t want to be. Natasha had gone through the same thing and never lost her cool with you as you had with her. 
The redhead calmed down slowly, turning on her side and facing the empty space beside her which you normally occupied. She reached one arm out, her skin colliding with cool sheets, already missing the warmth of your body. 
Natasha hated sleeping without you by her side, She didn’t feel complete when you weren’t steadily sleeping next to her, your arms wrapped around her body. However, she hoped that things would improve in the morning.
And with that thought in mind, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, clutching the sheets firmly in her hand. 
•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•
 The Next Morning
You awoke to a blinding light, the morning sun shining through the windows and landing directly onto your face. You let out a groan and slowly sat up, stretching out your limbs with a groan. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, you were aching everywhere. 
You sat there for a moment as the events of the day before caught up to you. Not only had you lost Sarah, but you upset Natasha. You immediately felt guilty as you recalled the harsh words you spat at her in a fit of rage. You felt like a complete asshole, and rightfully so. 
You quickly stood up and entered the kitchen, retrieving some bacon from the freezer and eggs from the refrigerator. You grabbed two separate pans and washed your hands, making sure to get the coffee pot running before you began cooking.
Your girlfriend absolutely loved bacon, eggs, and coffee. She described the combinations as a ‘party in her mouth.’ So, this was going to be an ‘i’m sorry for being a bitch last night’ apology breakfast. 
You got started on the meal and by the time you finished up and had the stove off, Natasha stalked out of the bedroom slowly. She eyed you carefully as she approached, you sent a soft smile her way.
“You made breakfast,” Natasha spoke and you shyly nodded your head. You moved away from the stove and rounded the counter. The redhead stood in her spot as you wrapped your arms around her waist, her arms reflexively going around your neck.
“I was an asshole last night.” You stated and your girlfriend nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah, you were a total pain in the ass, the absolute worst.” You rolled your eyes at Natasha’s teasing tone.
“I’m sorry for how I behaved. I was just so upset about… Sarah. I didn’t mean to take it out on you and I can’t even begin to tell you how bad I feel for yelling at you when all you wanted to do was help me.”
Your voice was full of emotion, your eyes boring into her emerald irises as you poured your heart into every syllable you uttered. Natasha smile gently at you, her fingers lightly tugging on the baby hairs on the nape of your neck. 
“It’s okay. I know you weren’t mad at me.” You let out a sigh of relief as the redhead stared at you softly. She let out a small chuckle at your dramatics before continuing.
‘I understand how you feel. The team and I, we try our very best to save as many civilians as we can, but sometimes it’s completely out of our control. It’s the exact same situation.” 
One of Natasha’s hands found its way to your cheek, gently cupping the skin as you leaned into her touch. You were listening intently to her every word, mesmerized by the calming rasp of her voice.
“Don’t dwell on what you couldn’t do, but give yourself some credit for everything you did do. I may not know what happened, but what I do know is that you tried everything you could, no?”
Natasha questioned you and you nodded your head. “I gave her antibiotics to fight the infection, but it was too severe.” The redhead rubbed her thumb against your cheek. 
“All that matters is that you did your best and that’s all anyone could ever ask for.” Natasha ended her little speech as she placed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. You couldn’t help but smile, an overwhelming feeling of happiness taking over. 
“Thank you. I love you and your… what was it?” You furrowed your eyebrows in concentration before your face lit up. Natasha raised an eyebrow at you. “Philosophical bullshit. That was the words.” The Russian let out a laugh, shaking her head from side to side at your antics. 
“Seriously though, I’m so grateful for you. You’re so amazing to me even when I don’t deserve it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Natasha’s laughter died down as your tone turned serious. Your eyes were so full of love and adoration as you stared into her eyes deeply. 
“Well, let’s hope you never have to find out.” Natasha smiled once more and you couldn’t resist pressing your lips against her plump ones. Your mouths moved in tandem at a slow pace, enjoying the rawness and love that accompanied each movement. 
You broke the kiss when air became an issue. Nat’s eyes fluttered open as you wiggled your eyebrows at her playfully. 
“So, are you ready for some breakfast? Maybe after we eat, we can go on top of a rooftop and I’ll serenade you with a rendition of ‘Sorry’ by Justin Bieber.”
Natasha’s head flew back as she laughed uncontrollably at your words. “What? Do you not like the Biebs? If you want, I could play ‘Baby Come Back’ by Player from a boombox and hold it over my head, instead.” The redhead continued to laugh profusely and you soon joined in. Your arms tightened around her waist as your giggles subsided. 
“I think cuddling on the couch and watching the Kardashians eating ridiculously large bowls of salad will do.” You nodded your head in agreement but didn’t make a move to release Natasha from your grip. She didn’t let go either. 
The two of you just stood there, basking in each other’s embrace, a comfortable silence falling over you both. 
Natasha never failed to say the right things to pull you out of the dark abyss that was your mind. She was completely right, as always. There would always be bad days, patients who were progressing one day and deteriorating the next. 
However, there were also good days, and you shouldn’t allow the bad to overshadow all the good you’ve done. Like with Natasha, she wasn’t always the superhero she is today. She took her dark past and turned it into a bright future. 
Nat didn’t let her bad days define her and neither should you.
Of course, you would always remember every single patient you had lost, but now, you would take the pain and turn it into motivation; motivation to improve yourself, not only in your professional life but in your personal life as well. 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
You would do right by the ones you’ve lost and the one who stuck by your side; Natasha Romanoff. 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
───────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────────
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moondustis · 4 years
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remember when (m)
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pairing: jaehyun + reader genre: angst, smut, soulmate!au, rich kid!au, convenience marriage!au, hurt/comfort, college!au (more details + warnings after read more)  word count: 12,7k summary: A story about vulnerability and the lines we draw to avoid it. About soulmates, desires, setting yourself free. And, of course, a story about love and discovering exactly what it is. song recs: skin by mac miller and pure love by hayley williams 
warnings: there are some mentions of drug use, brief mention of mental issues, bad parenting. just overall some subjects that might not be comfortable to read like i usually put on my fics but it's nothing out of the ordinary, and nothing graphics happens!  disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. none of the events described are real or are an accurate representation of the people and brands named. 
a/n: i would like to thank mary (neostains) for requesting this fic and cami (caiuscassiuss) for helping me with some informations about how ivy leagues work lol. this is my longest work so far, i think, and it’s a very special one. i hope you guys enjoy it! 
There was a time in your childhood where you remember being obsessed with princess movies. Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, name a fairytale and you would have probably watched it a couple of times, entranced by the images playing on the newest television your father had bought.
Isn’t it fucked up that young girls are always fed this stereotypical image of love? It’s like a woman is not good for anything but to love someone, to be a half until she found the other and became whole. At 8 you ate that up like no one else.
At 11 your mother hires someone to give you a talk, about how the world worked and about the weird name that would appear in your arm once you turned 18. It feels like a lecture, the woman telling you about perfect matches, the probabilities of love and soulmates in a flat tone that didn’t make you feel as excited as you did watching the fairytales you used to like. When you tell your friends at school about it, they act surprised at the way you were told and instead, tell you about the stories about meeting your true love their own parents had shared.
At 15, your mother enrolls you in preparatory school, with full theatricals about intellects and getting into the best college possible so you can do your duty as heir of your father’s company when it becomes necessary.
It takes you a while, but you realize finally that love is nothing compared to money when you see for the first time that the name on your mother's wrist is not your fathers. Not long after that, you find out that for the sake of the company, you would be marrying Jung Jaehyun, heir of the second biggest automobilistic company in the country.
At 18 you think romance and love are trivial things.
NOVEMBER, 2013
It’s a harsh winter, one that makes your hands tremble and your head hurt more than usual.
You rub at your temples as you make your way down the hallway as students pass by you at the same pace as yours to get to their next class. A dreading routine, one that is so busy it leaves you with no time to think of anything else but the essay you have to write, or the grade you have been waiting to receive.
Today, though, your headache is so intense that your mind is filled with nothing but a black void.
Despite that, you walk in small steps to your literature lecture. Your bag feels as heavy as your head and the thick wool sweater you have on is barely enough to keep you warm, legs shivering from the stupid skirt they made you wear. Knee length, of course, but still a bother to sit and move.
Fuck boarding school, is what you think as you pass a group of boys talking loudly. One of them has a Harvard pin on his cardigan, you notice in the back of your mind. It only makes you feel sicker.
The first bell rings and you realize how slow you have been really walking. A faster pace, a muttered curse and then the second bells makes you feel like your ears are melting, headache increasing. Now you’re late, a rare occurrence that will probably not affect your records in any way, but still, makes you walk faster.
It all happens very fast. You turn into the corridor that leads to your classroom but not a second later you’re bumping straight into someone, books in your hand scattering to the floor and head spinning from the impact. It’s hard keeping your balance, but the harsh grip on your forearms helps and then you’re opening your eyes, that you didn't notice you had squeezed shut in the first place.
“Fuck, I’m really sorry.” The voice is familiar but the curse feels alien on your ears. Jung Jaehyun never curses, he has manners better than that. “I’m running late and walking too fast.”
He mumbles and you almost snort at the obviousness of it all. At the fact you were literally doing the same thing. “It’s okay. I should’ve been paying more attention.” There’s no reason for either of you to be apologizing, is what you think about as your hand immediately moves to your temple again in hopes pressing on it will cease the pain.
He’s looking right at you when you finally meet his eyes. His face is painted with embarrassment, the red hue on his ears a dead giveaway. He doesn’t keep eye contact for more than five second, instead moving to pick up your books for you. “Still, I’m very sorry.” He sounds polite, as always. The curse from before is still fresh on your mind.
You had met Jung Jaehyun at the age of 9, not that you remember exactly how it went. Some random brunch where you and him sat side by side as your mothers talked about whatever was happening seven years ago. You remember your old nanny being there, and how she asked sweetly if you would like more juice. You remember missing her when she got fired three weeks later for unrelated matters that were never told to you. And that’s about it.
After that, the years passed with Jaehyun being a weird presence in your life. The rich kids ran in the same circles, that didn’t take you a long time to realize and wherever you went he was there too.
German classes at 11, the birthday party of the daughter of someone you didn't know at 12, etiquette classes at 13. An event for your father's company at 14, one of his fathers at 15 and now at 16, attending the same boarding school and having to meet each other like this, with awkward smiles and polite conversation. Because navigating a relationship you didn't know the other very well, but too well at the same time was a weird thing to do.
Jung Jaehyun was like you, but at the same time he wasn't. You were friends but at the same time merely acquaintances.
But this you remember vividly: him asking you random things at german classes and making you laugh with his awkward pronunciation. Him eating cake by your side at the birthday party, covering his lips before he asked you if you like chocolate or vanilla more. Him making fun of you quietly for dropping down your fork loudly in the middle of etiquette class. Him standing awkwardly by your side while you got reprimanded by your mother during the event, for not properly remembering the name of a lady that came to greet you, your head down as you forced yourself not to cry in front of him.
And then, his father clapping yours on the back after they talked about how lovely it would be if someday the two of you got married to join economic forces. No, not someday. When you two got married.
You, pretending he didn't exist after that day, because you realized that this too you wouldn't get to decide.
Jaehyun clears his throat, hands you your books. “How is your father?” He asks, a stupid question to ask when you're both late. A stupid question to ask, period.
You try not to grimace. “He's okay. Alive.” And then he’s chuckling lowly, awkwardly.
“That’s good, no company to run at 16 then.” He tries to joke and it's amusing, in a way that for someone else might not be. But you two are the same, at least when it comes to this.
“And hopefully never.” A stupid thing to hope for, but still he smiles at you.
Then the moment is over, the third alarm sounds and both your eyes shoot open and you’re muttering goodbyes before heading to your classes.
Your head still hurts, but you don’t feel as cold anymore.
2015
Anticipation, isn’t that just a fancier word to describe the gut feeling that something is going to happen? Worst yet when you know exactly what it is, but have no possible ways of knowing the possible outcome.
There’s a window behind your advisor, with a view to the field where the lacrosse team practices. You watch it with a lack of interest as the older lady flips through pages and more pages of what is possibly your future.
No, not possibly. Definitely your future. Because at least to this, you knew the only outcome possible.
It’s a pretty day, one that shouldn’t be spent inside a room with wood furniture and shelves and more shelves of books, that are almost as many as the certificates on the wall. Not when it also happens to be your birthday.
“This is a really good essay, ___. You have a talent with words.” Your advisor breaks the silence in a flat voice despite it being a compliment. It makes your eyes immediately refocus on her but she gives you no time yet to reply. “I am sure the admission team will read it with interest.”
“Thank you.” A polite smile reaches your lips. She was never much of a praiser, not that she needed to be. Your last name carried all the confidence you needed to have for a thing like this.
And, perhaps the interest they would be having would be exactly about that. What does the only heir of the biggest automotive company in the country have to offer for Stanford? Probably a lot, with a weight that heavy on her shoulders.
“You have started applications to only two schools, are you sure you would not like to add more?” Now she says it in a weirdly soft tone. Persuasion, because it would look good for the school that one of their best students accepted to all the ivy leagues. Your GPA would make sure of that, but that's not all.
“I don’t see the point. Stanford has always been my only choice.” You say it as nicely as possible because this is an old conversation.
“I see, well. This is it then, there's a few other students interested in attending Stanford too." She smiles bitterly, gathering the papers and putting it back on their respective folders. "But the chances of you getting in are very good. I'm sure all your hard work will pay off.”
You go to thank her but at that moment there's a pinch on your arm that leaves you distracted. It's followed by a weird burning sensation that doesn't cease when you grip it underneath the table as gently as possible. If anything, the fabric of your cardigan only makes it worse.
She bids you your goodbyes, with pleasantries exchanged but when you reach the door to leave she interrupts. “Oh, I almost forgot. Happy birthday, ____.” She smiles when you turn to thank her. “Please enjoy the rest of the day, turning 18 is very special.”
With a small bitter smile and promise to do so, you leave the room.
You reach your dorm room in no time, a stoic face on but with quick steps. And you try not to think about it, but the burning sensation on your arms continues.
It goes like this:
You close the door behind you gently, dropping your things down and immediately crumbling as you slide to the floor, unable to stand still anymore. You cry, for the second time today because birthdays were just not good. For about 10 minutes that's all that happens, your silent sobs and complete silence filling the room.
The burning in your arms stays there as a painful reminder and it tempts you to look, even though you know that the outcome didn't matter, not for you. Because behind blurry teary eyes you can see perfectly the image of your own mother's arm and the name of someone you didn't know, that she probably also didn't.
Because you are now 18 and you think romance and love are trivial things, that's all they could be.
You are now 18, and when you can't stand not knowing for another minute, you raise the sleeve of your cardigan and the name Jung Jaehyun is there on your wrist.
An ugly, incredulous laugh leaves your lips and soon turns into a sob. Of course it had to be him, you and Jung Jaehyun were tied to each other for a reason that was beyond fate.
You squeeze your eyes at the same time your hands squeeze your thighs, trying to get a grip. You calm yourself down, deep breaths in and out, your mind providing the good and the bad. No matter how you looked at it, it seemed like a trick the universe was playing on you. One, it would be worse if another name appeared, a name that you would have to pretend didn't exist, because this was just another thing you didn't have a say in. This was supposed to happen anyway, maybe it was better this way.
Then your mind provides another thought that makes your mind swirl. Jung Jaehyun had turned 18 in February, your name had appeared on his arms months ago and he didn't say a word about it to you, or to anyone for all you know. Maybe he was pretending too, maybe he wanted more time thinking that at least this he would get to choose.
Well, whatever fairytale that had been created inside stupid minds, was gone now.
The whole thing is announced two weeks later, in a gossip magazine with information from an inside source. Information that is carefully crafted from a marketing team the moment you reveal the result.
A result, like a test had been applied and you got Jung Jaehyun for whatever reason.
You exchange pleasantries the next time you see him, no trace of being too young to know the rest of your lives already. You just look at each other in maybe defeat, while your families make a toast to celebrate a wedding to take place in a few years from now. A wedding that held meaning beyond the marks that tied the two of you. Destiny just helped a little bit, it was just a good excuse to justify a marriage that had been arranged ages ago.
A month later you get accepted to Stanford, of course you do. And your mother's smile is a loud reminder of every single time she called you and inquired about every grade, every step you made to make sure this happened and that it all happened accordingly.
It doesn't take you long to find out Jaehyun got accepted there too.
AUGUST 2016
The heels of your Miu Miu boots make small stomping noises on the wood floor sounds as you walk through shelves and shelves filled with books. It’s not a loud sound, probably only perceived by your own ears, and you let it distract you as you navigate the big corridors of the Green Library.
Stanford had made your eyes shine during your first visit and then for the first months of your freshman year. The thrill of finally experiencing something new and yet undiscovered carried on until it gave space to normalcy, another routine. But this time, a feeling blossomed inside your stomach with wanting to eat it up.
A feeling that died and resurrected every now and then, but you played it safe. Navigating it with baby steps with fear of what could happen if you strained a little too far from the line. And what could that be? A magazine spread on how a famous philanthropic's daughter parties too hard in college, with pictures of you doing a line on marble countertops?  A class failed and the disappointment on your mother's voice when she called you? A scandal about your night escapades? You didn’t want to find out just yet.
So you settle for your new routine, of going out every now and then with the roommates that you were about to consider friends. Pondering if it’s worth it to join another club, just to feel like there's something else that makes you feel excited. Coming to the library, studying to keep your mind busy because your thoughts were never up to no good.
And it's so easy, being busy like you always managed to, with assignments, and volunteering and maintaining a perfect GPA.
It's also easy to ignore Jung Jaehyun’s existence. Because this time, unlike in boarding school, the task is much simpler, since classes are filled with so many people that on the ones you shared with him you barely get a glance of his eyes. Because he ran around in circles that had nothing to do with yours.
It was always clear to you, since youth, that Jaehyun was a social butterfly that just needed a little pushing, and he was nice enough that people always wanted him near. A high contrast to your quietness and introverted ways, staying in small circles and almost never allowing people to get too close.
It's weird thinking about him, putting a face to the name that was forever marked on your skin as a reminder of your future. It was weird thinking that it was easy to ignore this feeling too, like all the other ones that you have kept away in your small little box. The feelings that came out at least once a year when it all became too much, and you would sit in a duvet to spill all the dead butterflies inside your stomach out on the floor of a therapy clinic.
But even like this, weirdness doesn't begin to cover the way sometimes you catch yourself thinking of a memory that involves him, random and unexpected. A moment shared before the two of you discovered what expected you, before destiny was revealed. And you don't pretend that it's not real, that you don't feel the longing and need to be close, that your skin doesn't tingle when you see him around campus. You were long past pretending now, because there was no reason to play dumb when sometimes all you had were your own thoughts to rot your brain.
What you were good at, though, was concealing it all.
Was Jaehyun good at that too? Now that's something that you think about more than you would like. It didn't help that sometimes you would bump into him out of nowhere.
You enter the marketing aisle, eyes fixed on the small numbers taped to each section in hopes that the book you need was still here. It takes you awhile to realize that there's someone else with you, only moving your head up when you hear the footsteps approaching.  
“Hi.” Jaehyun says, a small smile on his lips that is as gentle as every other thing about his looks. He stands close, but not too much. A safe distance for you to run your eyes through his body one time, eyes stopping at the big ‘S’ on his sweatshirt.
You clear your throat before greeting him back. “Hello.” Your voice is low, thoughtful of your surroundings, but you match his smile in a silent agreement of politeness.
His eyes run through your face the same way yours does his. Curiosity, or maybe the longing feeling you try to not think about. The unspoken space in between the two of you is intact for now.  
He has changed so much in a year, is what you always think about when you two get to see each other up close. It always made you feel a weird nostalgia, seeing a face you had known for so long but now feels a little out of reach because of your own stubbornness. Your own fears.
“What book are you looking for?” He asks after some time, making small talk.
You turn your eyes to the books, him following. “Uhm, Kotler.”
“Oh, of course. How is marketing going?” You almost laugh at his attempt to make conversation, a skill well acquired during etiquette class.
“It’s okay. Not regretting it yet.” A half lie. Maybe another thing you were keeping locked deep down, your dislike for your major. But thinking about that while having a conversation with your soulmate was far from something you wanted to do.
He hums amused, eyes still fixed on the shelf. “That's good.”
You finally find the book, leaning down to get it and hugging it to your chest as your mind searches for something to offer for your own piece of ice breaker. Then you remember seeing his face last week printed on a glossy paper, an intricate article on consumerism tendencies online besides it.
“Congrats on the publication.” You say, facing him again. It’s genuine, because you knew how things like that really mattered. Small things that were nowhere near the accomplishments expected of the two of you, but still something to be proud of.
He laughs lowly, with bashful manners of looking down to his feet and with ears turning red. “It’s just a campus magazine.” Because of course he would be humble, amongst all the other qualities you were well acquainted with. Deep down you know that it's just a reflection of the high expectations that have been set the moment he was born.
“Still, it was very well written. And everyone said it was impressive for a freshman.” Everyone being the friend that showed you the magazine, but you'll pretend for him that it was something more. To try and erase the feeling of not deserving something that probably runs through his mind.
You would crush it beneath your boots if you could, it's the weird thought that runs through yours.
He huffs. “Well, it’s Stanford. Hard to know what's gonna be impressive and what is just expected of you.”
“Good thing we are all promising young adults that don't need their egos to be fed, right?” You joke back and it makes him laugh a little too loudly, quickly stopping himself as you two exchange awkward but familiar glances with tiny smiles on your lips.
A moment of silence settles next, one that lasts only long enough for you to shift the weight from one leg to another. Then he's asking. “Are you… Are you doing something this weekend?”
“I’m expected at a company party.” You reply flatly, blinking twice but not really pondering the reasons for his curiosity. You two stare at each other for a second that passes quickly.
“The HSBC event?” He asks and you nod, expecting the words he says next. “Oh, I'll attend it as well.”
“Boring, huh?” An attempt to continue a conversation that should've ended by now.
“Yeah.” He looks at you, and then away, and then back at you. “I was thinking that we could have din-“
Footsteps interrupt his words and you look behind your shoulder to see who the newcomer is. A tall man, taller than Jaehyun even, smiles at you guiltily before he’s looking at Jaehyun and raising his brows. “We are late, dude.” He deadpans as you look between the two of them.
“Shit, I didn’t realize.” Jaehyun says in a groan, bringing his big watch to his face,  and you have to contain a smile at the curse. Then he turns to you. “Sorry, I gotta go.”
“It’s fine.” You mumble, the book still held tight against your chest.
He waves awkwardly as the other man throws you another smile. You watch them leave with trembling fingers.
DECEMBER 2017
December always made you feel a little weird. Blame it on the cold and the days spent in bed trying to get the warmth you craved. Or on the impending approach of winter break and having to deal with your parents and your obligations for the month to follow.
But you try not to think about that just yet, when the time comes you'll deal with it. That's what you always do. For now you let your bed swallow you as you scroll down mindless through your instagram feed, double tapping publications of past boarding school acquaintances smiling with the Harvard location attached to each picture, just like the brand names are attached to their clothes. It's a little pathetic to you that your own account looks the same, with pictures carefully picked with a marketing tactic in mind.
Your little distraction is interrupted when the door to your room opens and your roommate, Ela, walks in, clearly shivering from the cold even underneath her thick dark grey coat. “God, it's fucking freezing outside.” She mumbles as a greeting, removing her boots and setting it close to the door before draping her coat on her chair.
“How was the meeting?” You ask from under your blankets, laughing a little as she drops her things on her own bed. The question makes her sigh loudly.
“That dude is still an asshole.” The dude in question being her partner to a never ending project of rebranding that sometimes stressed even you, from how much she talked about it. “But we are almost done with it now.”
“That's good.”
She plops on her bed, across from yours and a comfortable silence settles for a moment as she probably tries to have a moment of calmness.
Ela was an old face on your life, having attended the same school but never really getting closer than knowing each other's name. Still, it was good that you got paired to dorm with her. A familiar face that became a friend of sorts, as the two of you built a relationship on things in common and the want to have someone you could trust in a new place. And she was different than you, more outgoing, had a liking for socializing that you could never match, but still understood you.
“Hey, did you finish that essay already?” She asks, turning her face to you.
“Yes, it was bitch to write.”
“And Kotler is super boring to read.” A sigh escapes her lips and you agree loudly because she's right. Sometimes, when you allowed yourself a moment of wishful thinking, you would wonder what it would be like to have a major that you didn't feel like your brain was melting from boredom when reading about.
“I'm really tired.” You reply, just to say something back.
“Same. Are you doing something for winter break?”
In your mind you know exactly what you'll be doing, a schedule even ready on your mind, but  instead you say “Not really, are you?”
She hums, voice tired but still excited as she goes on about how she wants to go to Europe again, visit Amsterdam because that was one of her favorite travel destinations. When you ask how it was, she describes in perfect detail, how the streets looked and how it felt very welcoming, telling you that you absolutely had to go there someday.
You promise to go and in the back of your mind you wish you could. Maybe you can if you can do more week hours on your internship and ask for a free week.
You shake your head at that though.
“Oh, I got this little get together today. At that bar downtown.. .Do you want to go?” You know she’s asking out of politeness, not because she didn't want you there but because you rarely said yes to her invitations.
But there’s a tiny spark on your chest, one that resembles the restless feeling you would get when you stayed too long laying down. It's not a motivation as much as it is boredom and the wish to feel something other than half emptiness. Other than the want to escape.
“Ok.” You say, shrugging slightly.
“Really?”
The raise of her brow makes you laugh. “Yeah, we are getting home next week. That's the last time I get to do this for a while.”
The bar is a little crowded, with winter break approaching and no one really daring step outside for a smoke because of how cold it is. The owners took great advantage of that by offering a ‘buy two get one free’ deal, that if you take a closer look at is really just a scam considering the price. But it's enough to fool college students that are excited about being away from this place for a while.
That’s what you think about after you down the remnants of the third drink you and your roommate shared. It’s not that kind of night, of getting wasted and not remembering anything the next day. It’s more of a little get together, for your roommate's club members and you are here merely as an intruder.
You feel just a little tipsy as you listen to her friends talk, some of them you knew from afar and some were just strangers that were nice enough to make you laugh every now and then. Still, you feel detached from the conversation, smiling and nodding when needing but not really taking part.
“What about you, ___?” A girl with round cheeks and pretty eyes asks you regarding your vacation plans. “You gotta invite us if you are throwing a party.”
You scoff before you can catch yourself. Alcohol always drops your inhibitions a little, but still you are quick to cover it up. You laugh along with the others, promising to invite everyone even though you are not throwing any parties, most likely never.
You roommate looks at you from the corner of her eye, smiling sympathetically because she knows you, and knows how stupid her friends are, but it's fine. You just wish you could just take it easily, the interest, the wanting to get close so they too will appear in a gossip magazine and live the life they think you do, without wanting to tell them to get a fucking life already, because this is just pathetic.
You smile back at her, wishing for another drink as your thigh highs start to roll a little uncomfortably. Shifting from leg to leg does nothing to help it, so you try to push the little annoyance to the back of your mind.
The small groups divide in different topics over the time, and you find yourself talking to some guy you had never seen before, that goes on and on about his amazing business ideas and how successful it's going to be when he finds the right stakeholders. You nod and try to focus through the whole thing.
The rest of the night goes like that. Fake laughter, loud music and conversation that gets more boring as the clock ticks, so you find an escape excusing yourself to go to the bathroom, not because you need to but to get away for a second.
In retrospect maybe it would've been better to endure another discussion about LA clubs and entrepreneurship.
The bar is so crowded that you have to excuse yourself at least five times, and on the sixth one you end up bumping into someone.
“Oh.” Is the clever thing you say when your eyes are met with Jaehyun already looking at you, his eyes lower than usual from probably taking advantage of the drink deal like you had.
He looks relaxed, hair parted in a way that shows his forehead and an all black outfit that doesn’t look as expensive as it probably is, but he makes it work so well that you do a double look while in your hazy state. If he notices, he doesn’t show it by the way he keeps his smile unfazed at you.
“We gotta stop seeing each other by accident,” he says, laughing a little.
“Yeah.” His words take a little to digest so you keep looking at him for a beat of a second. It’s a first, seeing him in a place like this. Where you can see just how well he really can adjust to any setting. He fits right in with the low lights and the relaxed atmosphere.
“This is Johnny.” He gestures for the guy besides him, who turns his attention to you and smiles in a way that’s a little familiar. Then you realize he’s the guy from the library over a year ago, and the friend Jaehyun posted pictures every now and then on his instagram page.
“Hey, It’s nice to meet you.” Johnny says, same smile from before still on and you return it. “Have heard a lot about you.”
That makes you laugh, a mixture of confusion and excitement and politeness that confuses even yourself. “Good things I hope.”
He tilts his head playfully. “Only the best things you can hear in place like this.”
The three of you share smiles, the interaction then turning into a conversation promoted by a question you ask, both from wanting to have something to say and out of curiosity. Johnny does most of the talking, explaining how he and Jaehyun had been friends for a while but only got closer now that they are attending the same university. They share a story of something that happened, them buying each other the same thing for christmas and you listen to the whole thing entranced.
It’s weird in some way how you can learn so much from your own soulmate from someone else. And it's weird how you react with joy, perhaps, to the teasing Johnny does to Jaehyun so naturally.
When the conversation settles down, Johnny looks between the two of you for a few seconds before he’s excusing himself to find an unnamed person. It was predictable he would do that, with the way he kept aiming the conversation to make it about Jaehyun, as if he somehow had to wing his friend to you.
You stare at your shoes, unsure of what to say now and maybe too worn out from the whole night to come up with something to talk about. But you don’t have to, because soon he’s asking  “Are you here alone?”
You look up, a tiny smile on your lips. “No, I came with my roommate. But she's with her friends.”
“Oh, I’ll keep you company then.” He offers and you nod, following him to the bar where it's more illuminated and you can both lean a little on the counter.
Jaehyun is good at making people feel comfortable, you had noticed that many times before and it's no surprise when he asks you about your roommate, about what songs you have been listening to lately. He tries to keep a conversation with ease, even if it stays in the usual surface you two are used to.
If you weren't so distracted by everything, your mind would probably offer that it feels a lot like when you were kids and standing in the corner of a ballroom in uncomfortable clothes, talking about things that didn't matter.
“Have you ever been to Amsterdam?” You ask him suddenly when the past topic dies down.
“Yeah, it's really nice there.”
You hum, remembering your roommate's words. “That’s cool, I really want to go there someday.”
Out of nowhere he starts laughing a little, as if you had said something funny. When you inquire about it, he shakes his head clearly amused by the way his eyes squint a little from his smile. “It's just… Don’t you think it's weird that we have known each other for all these years, and all we do is do this weird small talk?”
You laugh too, speaking before you can stop yourself. “And still for some reason I feel like I know you.”
His eyebrows raise for a second but his smile is unfaltering, your statement not bothering him.  “You know me.” He says, as a matter of fact. “And I know you.”
Now this makes you freeze, blinking slowly but it doesn't last long until you are covering your surprise by chuckling. Your eyes meet his and it strikes you that it's true, you know him and he knows you. Not everything, but what would be the fun in that.
Maybe that's why the two of you kept doing this small talk, to get to know each other better even in the smallest things. That's what getting to know someone is, after all. Not the business interviews and networking you grew up with.
You shake your thoughts away, leaning on the counter with one elbow and then resting your face on your palm. “What is your favorite thing about me then?” It's what you ask, in a playful tone to keep the conversation going. Or because you actually want to know, out of curiosity or vanity.
He chuckles, bringing his hand to his face as if in deep thought, before he replies. “I like that you are smart.”
The simplicity of it makes you snort. “Please, that's a cliche thing to say in a place like this.” You say, mimicking the words his friend had said to you earlier. “What does that even mean?”
“I don't know.” He shrugs while laughing, “Johnny just says things like that sometimes.”
You nod then, making an amused sound while you turn on the counter to stare forward. Your roommate is on the opposite side of yours, leaning against a wall while talking to a girl taller than her but just as pretty. The view makes a tiny smile settle on your lips, the beginning of a spark on your chest.
It always amazed you how people who didn't know their soulmate yet continued to live on, simply letting the universe do its thing naturally. In your young mind you had always thought that love was supposed to be a yearning that you couldn't control, that you would have to be with the person you love no matter what, and do anything to find them. That had changed now.
You turn to Jaehyun again. “What would you say is your favorite thing about me then, if we didn't know each other already?” You ask. It's a weird question because it makes him raise one eyebrow at you, but there's still not a trace of annoyance on his face.
“Isn't that also cliche to say?” He huffs. “That you are the prettiest girl I have ever seen?”
You can't help the embarrassed laugh that leaves your parted lips in shock. “Are you flirting with me?”
His ear gets an incredible red shade and you find it extremely charming. “It's just the truth.” He defends himself and it only makes you giggle more.
You thank him, tell him that you think he’s pretty too and correct it to handsome when he raises one eyebrow again. It makes a nice atmosphere settle and you feel comfortable enough to ask “So... if we didn't know each other you would flirt with me at a random party? Buy me a drink and all that?”
He smiles, dimples showing while he brushes his hair back. It's not the first time, of course, but you find yourself a little in awe at how pretty he actually is. Pretty in a way that makes you feel a little out of it, stunned by the way his lips start forming his next words.  
“What do you like to drink?” He asks casually.
Now it's your turn to raise one eyebrow. “Hmm, I like Moscow Mules.”
You watch as he turns to the bar, calling the waiter over and ordering two drinks of your said preference. The mixture of feelings on your chest make you feel drunker than you did before and you wish you could put a name to it. Excitement, amusement, whatever it is only increases when he looks at you again.
“I’m Jung Jaehyun, by the way.” He offers, smiling sweetly and you match it when you realize what he's playing at
“I’m _____. It's nice to meet you.”
Playing pretend with him is easy, even more when the drinks make your inhibitions fall completely. Jaehyun tells a joke and you lean forward a little. Then you talk about something and he comes closer as if to hear better. Another drink and plenty of silly conversation later, he's completely invading your space in a way that you don't feel slightly bothered by.  
Not even when leans to whisper in your ear. “Do you want to get out of here?”
You leave the bar giggling like the two mildly drunk people you are, basking in the joy of it and of the little fantasy you two have created. Jaehyun keeps you close, your hands linked and it's such a nice feeling that you get even more overwhelmed in a good way. The two of you walk almost glued to each other basically skipping and muttering playfully things just to say something.
When you are near the dorm complex, he stops abruptly and when you turn to him, his hands find your cheeks and his eyes search yours for a brief moment before he’s bringing your face closer to his.
It's a sweet kiss, contrary to what you thought it would be when you allowed yourself to think about this. You had always imagined desperation, not being able to endure not doing it anymore. But the reality is that Jaehyun kisses you with delicacy and  even if there is desperation to it, it's not in a way that overpowers anything else. But in a way that makes you moan lowly, makes you press him even closer by grabbing his shirt as he moves his lips slowly against yours.
There are no fireworks, no deep realization that you are kissing the person you are meant to be with for the rest of your life. But it's good, makes you want more, makes you want to bring him closer than possible, and maybe that's proof enough.
You reach his dorm in a blink after that, him having a bit of a hard time opening the door but when he does it takes no time for you to be pressed to it.
For a moment he just looks at you, eyes hazy and shining. They run through your face the same way yours does his, with longing that is finally allowed. You try to quiet the way your heart beats by leaning forward and kissing him.
The kiss is hungry but never too fast, with his hands moving to your hips and you pulling on his lips. When you moan a little at the feel, he opens his mouth a little, sliding his tongue against yours and you swear at yourself for waiting so long. Swear that you will never get enough of this.
Your lips move together in a way that is proof enough to you that this is something else even in your drunk state. His lips are soft, tongue moving with yours as if he wants to take his time and when your hands move from his shoulders to his neck he  shudders, parting from you with a wet sound.
“W-We should...” He murmurs against your lip and you nod before he even finishes, letting him lead you to his bed. It feels a lot like yours, and the rest of the room is just as familiar but you pay no attention to that when he lays you on it gently.
It’s no surprise that Jaehyun is a giving lover and you figure that out when he kisses you like he wants to find out exactly what you like. Exactly how to make you fall apart in his hands.
He does everything with an expertise that maybe should make you feel jealous, but out of all things you are, a hypocrite is not one of them. So he shows you what he has learn from other people, and you show him what you have
And he doesn't settle for anything less than kissing all over your body after the two of you get undressed. For less than telling you in whispered words that he has dreamed about this before so many times and immediately swallowing with his tongue the words you would never be able to let out.
That you had dreamed about this too.  Dreamed about coming on his tongue as he eats you out, your hands grabbing at his hair and seeing stars. A giving lover, of the best kind,  Even more when he asks, with his mouth shining with your arousal. “How do you want it?”
You blink as your mind spins with the endless possibilities, but the ultimate realization that you would have him any way.  You decide on the one that gives you more control. “I… I want to ride you.”
He bites his lips, ears burning red again. “Yeah,” His words come out mumbles as he just looks at you for a second before moving to lay on his back. “Yeah, ok. Fuck.”
You straddle his hips after he rolls down the condom, his eyes looking up at you in what you think is adoration, pure desire. And then you kiss him again, all tongue but still slow. So deep that you think you’ll never forget what he tastes like.
He lets you sink down at your own pace, palms on your ass when you move slowly, feeling him stretch you with every inch you sit on. He hums, hands tracing your skin delicately and it only makes it so much worse.
You move, a grind at first testing the water and immediately crying out lowly from the friction and you look for support with nails grabbing at his chest. He doesn't seem to mind.
“Good?” A stupid question to ask with the way you are so wet around him that the room is filled with a squelching sound when you move up and down with all the patience in the world.
Still, you nod. “You feel - Fuck - really good.”
He looks down at where you’re connected, biting his lips to suppress the noises you want him to let out so you move your hips with purpose, eyes roaming his face to watch it contort in pleasure as he lets out the prettiest moan you have ever heard. Low and deep.
His hands move further down then, gripping your hips and moving you in a grind that feels too good. So good that you have to drop your arms to his chest for leverage as he moves you to his liking, pushing your hips back and forth.
You come with your back arching, long moan of his name as your entire body shakes and tingles and you have to grip at the sheets beside you for support. You try to keep moving as your orgasm washes over you but its too much and your walls clenching around his cock  makes him grip your ass even tighter, the action sending a thrill down your body as you fall forward on his chest with a wail.
Your mind swims in the gooey feeling of pleasure and all you can think about is him. Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun.
He waits for a second, hand moving to your back as your body trembles, drawing calming circles on it. When you have calmed down, he plants his feet on the bed and starts moving his hips up slowly and patiently but with deep strokes that make you bite your lip with oversensitivity.
And when you can, you move your head up, balancing yourself on your arms and looking at him. He wastes no time in kissing you, not deep because he parts his lips in a groan during a particular stroke, speeding his movements and grunting when you try to meet them back.
It’s when he has had enough, that he pulls out only to turn you on your back so he can enter you more easily, his hips now meeting yours in a pace that tells you that he’s close.
“Jae, oh… oh my god.” You sigh dreamily yet broken enough that it makes him smile when a sharp thrust makes your hips raise a little. He looks proud of being able to get you like this.
He hums as if agreeing with a very thorough statement, moving his arms so he can press his chest to yours as he fucks into you with calculated thrusts . You can barely move with his weight on top of you, with how he seems to lock you in place with his hips and it’s enough for another broken sob to fall from your lips.
“Deep?” He asks in a groan and with a nice slide of his cock inside of you to punctuate the question. You nod frantically because he’s as deep as he can get, knows this very well, and the feeling is something that makes you flutter around him in the desperate need to come.
He kisses your cheek then, two sweet but filthy enough with his heavy exhales against it. His pace never gets too fast, just hinting at it but he maintains a speed that leaves you in the brink of another orgasm. But, you only reach it when he pinches your clit with his fingers, circling it until your lips part in a silent scream and you’re coming again, stars behind your eyelids.
And the sounds he makes when your walls squeeze just a little more than he can handle are something else. A deep groan and a pained little sob that you find extremely endearing and hot at the same time, his face contorting as he quickened his pace just enough to push him over the edge, finally releasing inside the condom.    
He pulls out, breath heavy as he smiles at you falling putty on the bed and watching as he removes the condom and disposes it only to come quickly to the bed quickly.
He hovers over you, kissing you sweetly. Your arms find his shoulders easily as the two of you bask in the afterglow of it.
Then he kisses you again, tongues dancing together and you don’t mind when his hand starts to wander again, sending goosebumps to your body. His fingers find your clit with ease, circling it slowly before applying more pressure as your lips part and your hand grip his arm, for support and not to cut the actions.
You come again, not as strong as your first one but still enough to have you shaking a little and screaming silently. His finger stays at your clit, hovering until he asks again in a whisper. “Another?”
You nod, and he resumes his actions slowly, until you are seeing starts and he swallows your moans with kisses and stops your trembling with soft hands grounding you.
When you recover your breath, an incredulous laughter leaves your lips. “You’re insane.” He just smiles, nose brushing against yours.  “God, I...I gotta clean up now.”
He moves to get up. “Yeah sure, I’ll show you the bathroom.”
You end up cleaning together, a shower that doesn't take you long, even if it's hard to keep your hands to yourselves but you are both tired, feeling a little drained after the glow has gone away.
Afterwards, you are laying on his bed side by side, surrounded by the smell of his body wash and wearing the big t-shirt and sweatpants he offered you.
Your mind starts wandering lazily with the remnants of your high, that's why the words escape your mouth without much thought. “Isn't it weird that even if we have someone in the world meant for us we can still feel lonely?” You are not lonely right now, not really. Maybe it's just the sadness of winter speaking, or maybe you're still a little drunk.
He takes a second to reply, voice low when he does. “Yeah. But you don't have to.” He says.“ Feel lonely, I mean. You don't have to.”
It's a little funny how he feels the need to explain himself to you, as if you don't quite understand him when the reality it's both very far from that and exactly it at the same time.
“I don't think thats how it works. It's not up to me.” If it was, wouldn't you have stopped being lonely by now? Wouldn't you have finally succumbed to the desperate need of wanting someone, something, when late night hit and the mark in your arm would burn just as your eyes as you fought back tears?
Still, he says simply. “I think it is.”
You smile sadly then, turning to him a little and watching as he kept his gaze on the ceiling. He looked relaxed, as if this setting was soothing his mind and it makes a familiar feeling blossom on your chest.  “What did you feel when the mark showed up on your arm?” A question that you had wanted to ask the moment you found out it was him, but instead had failed miserably to guess the answer to.
“Relief.” He says without thinking, a truthful and genuine reply.
“That you wouldn't have to end up marrying someone that wasn't your soulmate?” You ask. All these years you had thought that this must've been it, what you felt that day.
“No. I was relieved that it was you anyway.” Is his reply, body turning and eyes meeting yours. For a second you’re frozen, blinking because it’s strange to have someone put their feelings out so easily.
“Is… Is that what love is, then?” You ask softly. “Relief that you have at least one person that makes you feel held?”
Maybe this is not really what he meant,  and more so wishful thinking of your part than anything else, but still he nods.
“I think it’s that. And other things.” His voice is soft when he says this. “I'm not sure what it is, but I want to find out.”
You can’t help as you examine his face after his confession. Is this what being soulmates is, then? Having someone that it's worth taking the risk of finding out? Or maybe it’s having someone that will show you exactly what it is.
Does all that explain the way you can't look away from him?
“Me neither.” You reply in the same quiet voice because it’s true. You tend to act like you know everything, and that you know what love is. You know love it’s pathetic and that it gets in the way of things, but is it really that bad? So you ask “Is it bad that I think you'll only love me because the mark on your arm tells you to?”
He laughs briefly. “No, it makes sense.” His eyes find yours again. “But you know it’s not, don't you?”
“I do.” At least you do now.
Maybe that's why you fall asleep so easily
2014 (flashback)
It’s the last day before summer break and Jaehyun is tired.
The other four guys he shared a room with are all packing their things for a nice vacation somewhere in Europe or one of the paradisiac beaches they all like to talk about. Jaehyun just wants to get home, not think about college applications for two months and maybe go somewhere he can be alone for a while.
“Sooyoung is kinda hot, huh?”  Yugyeom says out of nowhere and the room settles in a unison hum of agreement. He joins in too.
There’s a loud creak noise as another one of his roommates slumps into the bed but he doesn't bother checking who it is, mind somewhere else as he stares at the ceiling.
“True. But I would die if Ela gave me her number.” Jungkook sighs dreamily and Jaehyun can't help the snort that escapes his lips. Just yesterday they had a conversation exactly like this one, but not quite as innocent. Trust a group of men that have no idea who their roommates are to act like this.
Even though Doyoung, the only one of them that already knew, still acted the same when it came to this. His soulmate isn't someone he knew already, so what was the point in waiting. That's why he asks the next question. “Jaehyun, you know ___, right? Does she stick to the whole ‘waiting’ thing?”
Jaehyun blinks, shifts almost unnoticeable. “I don't know her like that.” Is what he says, which is a half true. He knows her, probably things no one else knows but that’s what happens when you grow up in the same circles, he guesses. Right now though, he feels like he doesn’t know her anymore, not with the distance she had put between them after the wedding was announced by your parents.
Then, he starts thinking about himself. Is he waiting for his soulmate? He has kissed some girls, but it never went beyond that. But now he remembers coming home from german class one day and his mother making soft cake as she told him about the name that would appear on his wrist.
He remembers that he had said loudly that he wished ____ would be his name, because then they could be better friends for some reason as silly as playing around together.
Sicheng interrupts his thoughts by snorting loudly. “Are you really trying to hit?” He asks Doyoung. “Gonna end up in the cover of a magazine for trying to corrupt the nation’s good girl.”
The room erupts in laughter and comments after that. He drowns it with his mind going somewhere else.
That night he dreams about her.
10, FEBRUARY 2018
Winter break goes by quickly with one too many end of the year celebration and wishing people you had never seen before a happy new year.
You spend your days fulfilling your internship at the company you would one day own, following around the superiors for the Marketing team and playing nice when they try to flatter you.
So busy that you can barely think about it, but you still do. You think about him so often that you think you have lost your mind.  And you see Jung Jaehyun too, here and there at parties, between whiskey glasses, tuxedos and unspoken words. Because, as you always thought, keeping it all unsaid is easier. At least for now.
Perhaps he knows it all, in a different way than you. So the two of you kept it lowkey, for the duration of those two months that are now gone with the wind. Two months of not a single magazine spread on your escapades, or you parents mentioning anything that is out of the ordinary.
It's as if the two of you have a secret, that some may assume, but still don't know for sure. What you and Jaehyun did that night is kept inside a locked box, one that you share with him and that every moment until now seems to fit in. What you don't know is if he too keeps the box as sacred as you do.
What you don't know is if the thought of it being opened by prying eyes scares him too.
Being back to campus is, ironically, a breath of fresh air. No more business meetings disguised as family celebrations, or stupid networking, or smiling for a camera to say that the company has never been better. No more internship and lack of time for something else.
February comes and it's just you, your dorm bed and the roommate you will miss when it's time. Just the lectures and keeping busy and trying not to think about things only to fail miserably.
But then, there are the phone calls, never ending and always the same. Or almost always.
The phone lights up, stupid ringtone, and your heart starts beating a little faster. How could someone ever guess what a phone call is about?  Not having control made you antsy.
Your mother greets you as always, stern words, asking how you have been out of politeness. You spend the entire phone call waiting for her to just say what she wants to already.
She mentions being busy, good opportunities, of an article you should read and something that sounds like a threat if you let yourself slip and get a scandal, even though she has said all this not long ago after gifting you another piece of jewelry you’ll keep stored deep in your drawer.
At least this time it doesn't take long for her to finally say what she wants. “Jaehyun’s birthday is soon. Don't forget to greet him.”
“I won't.” You reply simply but she’s quick to cut you off.
“Publicly. Maybe sending flowers would be good, or buying something that can get attention from the press.” It’s obvious this is not about you and your soulmate, it’s about you and your future. As everything is.
“Ok.”
“Just because he's your soulmate doesn't mean people will connect you two together forever.” She continues, never knowing when to stop. “You have to remind them of that.”
“I know that.” Because you do. There was no guarantee that your marriage with Jaehyun would be good publicity if the two of you weren’t liked or even popular.
You fear that when the time comes, people will realize something you yourself already has. That maybe you don’t really deserve Jaehyun, not because he’s better than you, but because you are not sure you can give him the love he deserves.
What you don't know clearly yet, is that you’re selfish and want him anyway.
“Good.” Your mother says and then the line cuts.
One time a therapist told you that maybe your mother was jealous. Because you would get to experience something she didn't, being with your soulmate, and that it was normal. It didn't mean she was evil and hated you. Another one said that that was the reason she was so stern, she wanted to keep you in line to prevent you from failure so as to not hurt you. That, behind the lack of affection, was a wish for your happiness.
Maybe there will be a time you understand that plenty. Maybe some things can never be truly fixed, only forgotten.
Four days days after that, you text Jaehyun a simple happy birthday with a heart at the end of it. You also get a chocolate cake sent to his place from a bakery you like, and when he calls to thank you, you tell him to not post it anywhere.
He laughs and tells you that it's a good idea.
2007 (flashback)
It was another late afternoon party, for another thing that you couldn’t remember or care about because things like this shouldn't really matter when you are only ten years old. Still, you had watched the other kids play with each other as their parents talked business and laughed, drunk from the bubbly drinks they downed glass after glass of.
For a moment you felt like reaching out and playing with them too, but it died soon and you stayed unmoving on the chair you had been placed in, while your parents did the same as the others somewhere in the distance.
It had been a pretty day, you remember, the sun was about to set and it made the shiny fabric on the tablecloths that were spread around the individual tables set outside, sparkle just the tiniest bit. You played with it to have something to distract yourself with.
You remember too, that Jung Jaehyun and his family were at the table right in front of yours, your parents greeting each other and talking briefly. Later on the party you had watched as he listened to something his mother said to him. She was beautiful, like your own mother, and you had heard her voice before so it had been easy to imagine in what tone she was speaking. Soft and low, how warmth felt like. As to the content of her words you would never know, but it had clearly been something nice because it made her son laugh as she patted his head.
You didn’t know back then that this moment would stick with you for the years to come, for a reason that at ten years old you were just beginning to understand. But still, the weird twist in your stomach, as you started to realize that something was wrong, would be felt many more times. As you realized that your family dynamics were not as warm as the others appeared to be.
25, FEBRUARY 2018
What you and Jaehyun have turns into something hard to describe.
The line you had so clearly put between the two of you, to avoid your future, had been replaced now by acceptance and the weird feeling of navigating a relationship that It’s still a new thing, but it’s also nice enough. Especially when he sends you a silly text and jokes about something, later on commenting the same thing on one of your instagram posts. It makes you feel giddy, that you have a shared secret.
Even more when he gives you a small knowing smile across the table while your father is non stop talking about the new model the company is about to release.
It’s a small dinner to celebrate Jaehyun’s birthday, or at least as small it can be in a restaurant like this, where the waiter will look you up and down if you are not wearing your prettiest silk dress and stiletto heels.
The whole thing had been rescheduled twice, because of busy schedules and whatnot, and now that both your parents had been able to fly here, you all sit underneath lowlights and drink expensive wine that is accompanied by a conversation that is so boring that you have trouble keeping up with it.
He finds you on the rooftop, hair blowing a little as he walks to you and in the back of your mind you think it’s a crime that he looks this good in a suit. That’s probably all the wine you had talking.
“Sorry I left you alone there.” You mutter with a sympathetic smile thrown his way when he reaches you, but you both know you are not sorry at all for escaping the stupid conversation your parents were having.
He chuckles. “You leaving was just a reason for me to escape too.”
The two of you turn to look at the city, the illuminated buildings looking minuscule from here but the tiny lights from each of them make for a breathtaking view. Jaehyun stands so close to you that your arms touch. You don’t mind.
“Looking at the city like that makes me feel really small.” You whisper, without really thinking.
“That’s because we are.” You hear his voice clearly, warm like honey and you don’t try to help the smile that forms in your lips.
“How do you do it?” The question makes him look at you, raising one eyebrow. “I mean, you always sound like you got it all figured out. While I just say the most random stuff because I don’t know who I am.”
You know you are the heritage left to you, the face of your father's company, a good student, smart. One of the few socialites that have never stepped a foot out of line, according to the magazines. But take all that and what’s left?
“I don't.” He says simply, “I’m just good at pretending, like you are.”
That makes you laugh. “Good to know we are both good at playing our roles.” You say, as a joke, because you are sure the two of you are beyond the acting now.
And It’s always funny to you how the masks the both of you put on fall completely when you are alone. That’s what it means to be friends, you had realized, and that’s what you decide to call your relationship for now. Friends, from a long time, that happened to be tied together for other reasons.
And Jaehyun is a friend that sometimes makes you feel like you deserve the love you crave.
“Hey. You are ____.” He says after a second, for good measure. “That's enough, you don't have to be anything else.”
“Is it enough for you?” You ask without really thinking.
He smiles, dimples showing and your heart grows warmer. “Yeah, and we can figure it out together. Who we are and all that.”
You share a smile, both staring forward at the view and shivering a little from the night wind.
“I’m sorry for getting you into these deep conversations.”
He laughs deeply at that, with his whole body. “It’s good, don’t worry. I want you to trust me, even if you won't let me get to know you.” And you do, you want to desperately trust him and let him in. ”Because you are scared I can't handle your daddy issues or something.”
A scoff mixed with laughter leaves your lips. It’s been a long time since you were able to joke about this with someone. “It’s mommy issues, please get it right.”
He turns to you with a silly smile on his lips. “Is it because she made you take those piano classes?” He jokes and you laugh before tilting your head.
“Wait, how did you know I played the piano?” That was ages ago, finally a hobby that you enjoyed amongst the numerous other classes your mother had enrolled you in. You played it for a long time before you stopped completely for whatever reason.
“You told me, when we had to introduce ourselves and talk about things we liked in german class.” He explains. “You said you liked it, even though your mother forced you to go.”
You turn to him now as it strikes you that Jung Jaehyun remembered you from his childhood the same way you remembered him. Not the same things, but still memories. The thought is so comforting that you can’t hold the way your cheeks move up in a smile.
“What about you?” You question. “What things did you say you liked?”
“Hmm, I don't really remember.” Is what he says with a shrug.
You two share a look, perhaps meaningful but maybe that's the wine making you feel on cloud 9 under his gaze.  “What do you like now?”
He chuckles as if your interest is amusing. “I like… music, getting coffee with friends. That kind of thing.”
“Not cars?” You joke, making him laugh. You decide then that you like making him do it.
“I mean, a little.” He replies playfully, and it’s very easy to be comfortable like this.
It’s good to know after all this time Jaehyun was like you, even if you felt alone in the world sometimes. That’s what a soulmate must be after all, not the missing piece to make you whole but someone that makes you realize exactly that you don't have to be.
“We should get coffee together sometime.” You offer after some time, a gentle smile being shared between you two in laziness, at the thought of soon having to return to the restaurant and popping out of the bubble you have started creating for yourself.
“We should.” He says, and the bubble stays afloat a little longer.
JULY 2019
It’s another charity Gala, with sparkly lights, champagne, fake smiles and a dress too tight. Everything is the way it always had been, except for you.
And Jaehyun, whose hand stays on your waist as he guides you through a slow song. He had wanted to dance, said he always thought it was nice when lovers did it in movies.
Lovers. The mere use of the word had made your heart somersault in your chest, but you kept it down. Instead, you move with him with soft smiles adorning both of your faces.
Your hand finds his cheeks. Nothing could describe the look you give him in the light but pure admiration. And you don’t care if anyone sees it,  you don’t care if it ends up in a magazine spread. Because even if everybody knew about it, this is yours.
The way he brings his hand on top of yours, and how his eyes match the exact look on yours. Every little detail about it makes you know that this right here belongs to the two of you and nothing can change it.
“Jaehyun?” Your voice is low, almost inaudible underneath the music and conversation echoing through the ballroom. “I don't want to be here anymore.”
His eyebrows raise at your confession, steps faltering for a second as he loses the rhythm “What? We can leave right now if you want.” He offers. “I came with my own car, so we can-“
Your soft laughter interrupts his words. “No, I don't mean right now.” You explain, swallowing around your next words. “I meant.. I don't want to keep playing a role, I want to go somewhere with you where no one knows us.”
A smile grows on his lips, one that tells you that he understands exactly what you mean. And you don’t have to guess anymore, there are no more maybes. You know.
“Okay, we can do that.”
He pulls you closer, dance now long forgotten as you just move in complete muscle memory.
“I want to find out.” You confess in a whisper. A secret between the two of you that no one else would ever know.  “I want to go somewhere with you and find out.”
You wonder if he already found the answer to it, to what love is. But you also don't need to know right now, because you will know when you have to. Either way you want to find out  and it's not for you to guess.
He smiles genuinely at you, with his dimples showing, like he always smiles at you.
You smile back, heart aching from something that can only be only be explained by years of shared stories, and in your mind, deeper connections that go beyond what everything and everyone inside this ballroom would understand.
You smile back, in the exact way you have always smiled at him.
APRIL 2020
A ray of sun peeks from the half closed curtains and set right above your eyes, getting you to wake up lazily and slowly. It takes you a while to come to it, the sheets on the bed just now starting to feel truly familiar with the warmth left on the bed, from someone that had probably gotten up just a little before from you.
You blink once and twice before your eyes are completely open, vision still unfocused but it slowly comes back as you stare at the bedside table. A lip balm is the first thing you see, then your phone and lastly a picture framed of you and Jaehyun hugging in front of the sunflower field at the Van Gogh museum. He’s laughing, at something said by the kind fellow tourist that had offered to take your picture, and you have the beginning of a smile on your own lips. One that you mimic perfectly now as you remember that day.
Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the door opening and Jaehyun walks in the bedroom, holding a bowl. His eyes are still drowsy and his hair a mess but you  think he looks right at home. Because he is.
“Morning, baby.” His voice is low and raspy, but enough to make you melt even more on the sheets.
“Good morning.” The smile settles fully on your lips now.
He sits on the bed next to you then, almost drowning inside his large t-shirt and hair plopping cutely when he tries moving even closer to place the bowl with sliced fruits on your lap. “We gotta add apples to the shopping list.” Is all he says and you nod while picking a slice of melon and chewing it leisurely as you bask on the hazy feeling of still being half asleep
Jaehyun stays by your side, head weirdly pressed to your chest, and asking silently for you to feed him apple slices every now and then with just his mouth opening.
Your mind wanders as you eat and then you’re having one of those moments where realization dawns on you finally. A silly small thing that makes you smile and your chest grow warm. “Jaehyun?” You call out softly, fighting back the bubble of happiness that forms on your chest because old habits are hard to die.
“Hmm?” He looks up at you, eyes blinking at you in the same way he always does, but this time it makes you want to cry a little bit.
You lean down, press a quick peck to his lips that make you both smile and then the words are out of your mouth.
“This is what love is.”
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beebrainedstudios · 3 years
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if you ever have the time for it i am DYING to see what your holland playlist would look like!
Well, in that case...
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Here’s Heavy Is The Head, an ADSOM Holland Vosijk playlist for all your bitter Antari needs! This playlist is long, but that’s because it’s specially formulated to have songs suited to different points in Holland’s life, and they appear in order so you can listen to specific events at your pleasure! So anon/anyone else looking, if you’ll indulge me, here’s a list of all the songs used, some with notes describing their place here;
First, general thoughts. I wanted this playlist to have plenty of dark ambient moments, but also several harsh and defiant ones, too; Holland is not as much of a sad character to me as he is angry, and a lot of his power and drive comes from a place of vengeance, wrath, and righteous justice. So, there’s a lot of rock, folk, and indie pop here. I tried to include all types of music to suit different tastes too, since I’m fairly diverse with my music choices. All that said-
Disclaimer: Some of these songs have profanity/swearing in them. As well, some of them have dark themes, undertones, and implications, so know that ahead of time. It’s a Holland playlist- I don’t feel like there’s anything here that’s darker than canon, but it’s still something any potential listeners should know. Consider this your warning.
Part 1- A Darker Shade Of Magic
Hollow (Cloudeater)
“I stay empty, I feel the hunger…”
Look Away (The Dear Hunter)
“And don’t you misjudge what I’m capable of, if I’m heir to a broken will…”
Wrath of Man (Chris Benstead)
(No lyrics, just the creeping sense of a vengeful creature stalking you. If anyone’s seen this movie, you’ll get the tone it sets.)
Paul Newman vs The Demons- Avett Brothers
“You may have to drag me away from my demons, kicking and screaming…”
Oleander (Mother Mother)
“I”ll be unclean, I’ll be obscene, you’ll be the rest…”
(Holland from the perspective of the Danes, specifically Athos.)
The Wolf (Phildel)
“The wishes I’ve made are too vicious to tell…”
Pain (Three Days Grace)
“Cause I’d rather feel pain than nothing at all..”
(Here half as a callback to an old joke and half because Holland is not immune to an edgy rock phase.)
Black Eyes (Radical Face)
“My heart will be blacker than your eyes when I’m through with you..”
Arsonist’s Lullaby (Hozier)
“On all the ashes in my wake…”
(Holland, willing or no, is still canonly an arsonist. Also, Hozier.)
P.O.L.I.T.I.C.S. (MISSIO)
“This friendship is worse than, P-O-L-I-T-I-C-S…”
(One of the most diametric differences between Holland and Kell is their views on each other’s kingdoms.)
In The Air Tonight (Natalie Taylor)
“If you told me you were drowning, I would not lend a hand…”
Blood On My Name (The Brothers Bright)
“Nowhere to run, nowhere to run, nowhere to run…”
(Mood for the beginning of the final Holland vs. Kell fight in ADSOM)
One Way Or Another (Until The Ribbon Breaks)
“And if the lights are all down…”
(End of the fight, Holland’s death #1, and his fall into Black London)
Part 2- A Gathering of Shadows
Bleeding White (Avett Brothers)
“I’m bleeding gold in the streets, but there’s no one to see, because the kingdom is empty…”
(Holland’s king now.)
Kings (Tribe Society)
“I’ll take my throne, lay it on a mountain, and make myself a king…”
When They Come For Me (Linkin Park)
“And it seems ugly, but it can get worse…”
Me And Mine (The Brothers Bright)
“I will burn your kingdom down, if you try to conquer me and mine…”
(Holland making some foreign relations plans.)
Feeling Good (Michael Buble)
“It’s a new dawn, a new day, a new life…”
Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing (Set It Off)
“Tell me how you’re sleeping easy, how you’re only thinking of yourself…”
(Holland’s revenge arc starts.)
Choke (IDKHBTFM)
“I wouldn’t hesitate, to smile while you suffocate…”
Roman Empire (MISSIO)
“You’re an empire, the darkest of empires…”
(Holland’s view of Red London.)
My Name (Charlie Winston)
“I won't apologize for the mess that you're in, I'm gonna hide my eyes from your crimson sin…”
Liver Lungs Spleen Heart (Chris Benstead)
(Again, no lyrics, but this is the mood when Holland’s plan really starts coming into effect.)
Have It Out (Mother Mother)
“But what is he good for, if he’s just a spectator of war, I have it in for, have it in for, have it in for…”
(Holland and Kell’s “conversation” at the end of AGOS + Holland’s grudge against Kell in general.)
The Yawning Grave (Lord Huron)
“Darkness brings evil things, oh the reckoning begins…”
(The tables turn on Holland.)
Burn Him Down (Kitsch Club)
“This Woodsy’s been worn one too many a time…”
(For context, this song is about burning the suit of a retired Forest Service mascot, which in a twisted way is parallel to Osaron possessing Holland. In short, destroy the old guy because he’s damaged and worn- AKA Holland.)
Part 3- A Conjuring Of Light
The Waking Nightmare (Frankenstein World Premiere Recording)
“I’m here in the waking nightmare, and every moment tastes of death…”
Four Walls/The Ballad of Perry Smith (Bastille)
“Now we’re faced with two wrongs, I don’t know, no I don’t know…”
(Holland facing his imminent execution.)
Bring Me To Life (Evanescence)
“Without a thought, without a voice, without a soul- don't let me die here…”
(How could I not include this?)
Sin Triangle (Sidney Gish)
“I've got to work on my face now, I'm wearing shades when it's dark out, but don't you worry I'm just being cool, like everybody else around this school…”
(Holland while on the boat/observing the rest of the group.)
I’m So Sorry (Imagine Dragons)
“You’ll never know the top ‘till you get too low…”
Human (Rag’n’Bone Man)
“I’m only human, that’s all it takes, don’t put the blame on me…”
Sing To Me (MISSIO)
“Sing to me 'cause I can't hear myself, through the loudness of my own hurts…”
I Will Not Bow (Breaking Benjamin)
“And I am not proud, cold-blooded, fake, I will shut the world away…”
(The final battle with Osaron.)
Up The Wolves (The Mountain Goats)
“It’s gonna take you people years to recover from all of the damage…”
(Holland’s sacrifice.)
Part 4- Backstory/Life Flashing Before His Eyes
Head Full Of Doubt/Road Full Of Promise (Avett Brothers)
“And there was a kid with a head full of doubt, so I’ll  scream ‘till I die and the last of those bad thoughts are finally out…”
(Holland’s grand destiny.)
A Dustland Fairytale (The Killers)
“Is there still magic in the midnight sun, or did you leave it back in sixty-one, in the cadence of a young man’s eyes…”
(Holland as the Someday King.)
Borderland (John Marc McMillan)
“Help me Holy Lord, I see the light of Heaven’s porch, but so many of us are born here outside your chain-link fence…”
(Holland growing up and meeting Vortalis.)
Poor George (James Supercave)
“Poor George, poor George, he never learned how to stop…”
(Vortalis’ reign and subsequent death.)
I Knew You Once (Hollie Allen)
“Yes, I knew you once, and it was nice…”
(Holland’s past relationships and how he misses them.)
Bohemian Rhapsody (Panic! At The Disco)
“Carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters…”
(Holland’s entire life flashing before his eyes, riddled with pain, power, and a refusal to submit.)
Part 5- The End
Kettering (The Antlers)
“And I didn’t believe them when they told me that there was no saving you…”
(Kell and Holland preparing to leave for White London, with Kell wishing things could be different and Holland wishing they had been.)
Never Been Alive (Avett Brothers)
“I’ve never been alive, like I am now…”
Numb (MARINA)
“And I’ll light up the sky, stars that burn the brightest fall so fast and pass you by, cough like empty lighters…”
(Holland’s final death- the end.)
Congrats to everyone who read this far- this is my first playlist, so I may have gone a bit overboard. Please enjoy, and let me know if there’s any other ADSOM characters I should do one of these for!
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it is time.
I want to compile a more complete rundown of my thoughts about homestuck 2. I want all the stuff in my head to be in one place, and I know this is going to be incredibly long winded and I don’t care. I want to be honest... I want to understand why I don't like this media. on more than a "but of course" level because there are a lot of people who have it as a gut reaction that this stuff isn't right. but I think there are layers to what produces that. I wanna get in depth with this. so that's what I'm gonna attempt to do.
okay, so, the first thing I think I wanna say is a disclaimer. I have not actually read the epilogues. or homestuck 2. I have a peripheral knowledge of what happens in them because, as a concerned citizen, I poked around enough to pick up details and know that I wouldn't enjoy this media if I fully engaged with it. my assessment of the material may be flawed because of this, but I mean... if the things I've heard about the epilogues deterred me from reading it, then I guess that's what I'm analyzing? not only what I understand based on my limited knowledge, but also why it is so limited to begin with. why this media is such a huge deterrent to so many people who care so much about homestuck. ultimately, this is not to shame people who like this media... I will be addressing common takes I've heard from people who defend the epilogues, but I'm not singling anyone out, and anyone who reads this has a right to disagree, or better yet, ignore me and find enjoyment where you are able, even if I cannot. I will not begrudge you that. additionally, I am considering the epilogues and homestuck 2 to be one unit. not necessarily in terms of structure, but because the events of one lead directly into the events of the other, and the two have similar issues. I think I'll shorthand the combination of the two as EP/HS2 for simplicity, and refer to either individually if I have something specific to say about one or the other.
I think the main problem that people have with EP/HS2 is that it's depressing. and it's depressing for a myriad of different reasons, but I'll get to those in a minute. first I want to establish why them being depressing doesn't work for so many people. I feel like this should be examined first, because a lot of the supporters of EP/HS2 are viewing the complaints against it as over sensitivity from fans who only liked the comic for its lighter elements. I keep seeing a "y'all just wanted your rainbow cotton candy fluff ending" kind of sentiment going around. and like... you are right that this isn't a fluff ending. but I think it's unfair to treat the particular type of content that EP/HS2 brought to the table as the only kind of substantial, fulfilling narrative that we could've asked for.
and I think a lot of the dissonance that people see between homestuck and EP/HS2 is based in the ratio of tension to levity, and how far it's shifted toward pure tension... especially because, at the end of homestuck, all the outside threats to this group of friends have already been resolved. and yet, shit feels leagues more catastrophically bad during the epilogues than it did during the comic when the characters were actually under attack, which is super weird when you think about it. I mean, "epilogues" my ass, am I right? it is true that homestuck was never 100% sunshine and rainbows... in fact, some of the darker events that it brought to the table became some of the most hyped shit in the comic. murderstuck is mostly what I'm thinking of first in terms of this, but there was a lot of popular angst laden content within homestuck that the fans latched onto. the thing is, the fans also latched onto the content that was super goofy, and the fan works that you can still find online from the era of homestuck's initial popularity reflect both sides of its tone in equal measure. there was a huge amount of goofy fan content (octopimp's youtube channel is still a record of that, and that wasn't even the half of it). and there was a huge amount of angsty content, and there was a huge amount of heartfelt content... turns out, homestuck had broad appeal, and spoke to different people in different ways. and back then, I never really felt like the goofy stuff was being treated as any less important than the heavy stuff. it wasn't brushed off just because it was seen as lighthearted. people liked to laugh, and I fully believe that Andrew Hussie began doing homestuck as a fun activity.
the reason why I bring this up is because homestuck as a piece of media could beget all of these various takes. the fan works could be tonally dissonant when held side by side with each other, but when held against the parts of the comic that inspired them, they made perfect sense. homestuck could spawn jokes, and angst, and social commentary, and theories... and even extrapolation on canonical events, in ways both silly and serious. and when you look at the kind of content that the fans produced during homestuck's height, you see what was important to them. they put time and effort into crafting even their dumbest meme shit. the fans reflected what the comic gave to them. and humor and heart were among the most beloved core engagements that the comic provided... these were pillars on which a lot of fan enjoyment rested... you really can't begrudge a person their fun.
and treating darkness and angst as the sole indicator of maturity in a work seems misguided to me. because, speaking personally for a moment here, one of the biggest lessons I had to teach myself when I was growing up was how not to wallow in negative emotions. how to find the fun, sometimes rather aggressively, so that you don't just drown. and with EP/HS2, it feels like at every turn, readers are constantly grasping for something nice or fun to keep them afloat in all this heavy stuff, and either they come to accept mere scraps of positivity, or everything they reach for is eventually dissolved as well. and I think the character of a piece of media as a whole can sometimes tell you what level of maturity it's operating under. like, if the text lingers over making the characters miserable, or seems to revel in shooting holes in people's positive interpretations of these people, you have to kind of wonder if this is serving the narrative, or just producing author schadenfreude when they release what amounts to shock content.
it almost feels like a twisting of the way homestuck used to treat the fans, because during it's run, homestuck was very reactive towards the fanbase. this kind of canon responsiveness to the readers was baked into homestuck from the very beginning, back when Hussie was accepting reader suggestions for what John Egbert should do. and need I remind everyone that the trolls were made as parodies of different types of personalities that were common to find online during homestuck's era? they are internet trolls, who are actually an alien race known as trolls, who communicate primarily online, and whose culture and species developed to produce an ornery and antagonistic population, so like... it's trolls all the way down. that's the whole joke. but the real, valuable benefit of parodying your fans with your characters, is that when the trolls act, they reflect the way real people acted. which means that when, say, Nepeta shoehorns RP lingo into casual conversation, some people will be like "it me!" and some people will laugh/cringe because they've seen people actually talk like that, and some people will be like "aww, that used to be me!" and every time a character produces this sense of identification with the audience, it works to create familiarity, and eventually, a sense of fondness.
that fondness is fucking powerful.
that fondness is born out of recognition and empathy, no matter which character you feel it for, and when a giant community of people loves a character that you have seen yourself reflected in so clearly, that is an incredibly validating experience. especially when you’re young, and the pieces of yourself that you saw were some of the nerdiest, weirdest, most awkward parts of you. a very large community of people loves a character that is like you, even, or perhaps especially, because of the flawed parts. and of course these characters were meant to tease the fans a little... these characters were also jokes to some extent the whole time. but they were never seen as cruel or insulting, because these characters were also important. the story literally built whole worlds around their identities... these kids altered universes. and they were allowed to be that important and special without being perfect first. they were dumb, and awkward, and nerdy, and cringey, and allowed to be there anyway. they were you, and you were important.
and this is where I think that EP/HS2 really misses the point. because in homestuck, the characters experienced hardship, but that hardship went on to fuel an overall sense of accomplishment when it was overcome. the road might be long, and it might be tough, and you might face shit that you don't feel prepared for, but when triumph is achieved, it feels that much more earned. and that is a key phrase I want everyone to remember homestuck for:
triumph.
it's the feeling that cascade gave me. it is the highest of heights that this whole thing reached. and it really has so much to do with how homestuck had built itself up until that point. we were mired in the minutiae of these kids' lives. we read their every chat log. we saw them dicking around doing next to nothing. we saw them contact each other and talk to each other for basically no reason other than to catch up. we saw them sharing stupid memes, and yelling at each other for wasting time on pointless bullshit, and dunking on each other's shitty taste in media... every one of them was "you" at some point. "you captchaloged this" or "you decided to do that" and it made a subtle connection in your brain that convinced you to feel things with them and accept what they "decided" as something that you had done alongside them. in some small way, you did homestuck. and this notion was further supported by how much of what the fans were doing would make its way back into what the comic was doing. the comic and the fans existed in a kind of symbiosis, and that fed into the feeling of connection that the fans had with this particular story. this thing was alive, and it moved in tandem with the community.
so when something big like cascade happened, you were right there with them. you were deep in the center of it. and you wanted to be, because this was your payoff. you did the work with these kids... you put in the time. and the triumph was yours too.
this is why EP/HS2 shouldn't be depressing. the core of the story was triumph against all odds. to take the triumph that was earned over the course of the whole story, and ruin it for the sake of generating angst... it misses the point. I did not read all 8000+ pages of homestuck multiple times because I wanted a tragedy. if I wanted tragedy, I would choose a different story. of course a lot of fans would have trouble liking EP/HS2... this wasn't what they signed up for. it pulls the rug out from under the fans of the original comic by pulling a mean genre bait and switch. why would people who liked a story like homestuck want a story like this? and I mean, obviously some people were okay with this. some people like EP/HS2. but you have to admit that it is an entirely different thing than what homestuck was.
I’ve heard some folks try to compare the darker parts of EP/HS2 to the darker parts of homestuck, and this is why they aren't the same. the darkness performs different functions in each story. in homestuck, it contrasts the lighter parts and creates a reason to keep everyone moving. in EP/HS2, it is the whole darn thing. the story is simply woven from it to begin with. I have heard some people say that they think of EP/HS2 as cathartic... as a reflection of life when things are painful or hard. but I think we really need to remember what catharsis is. catharsis doesn’t begin and end with pain. catharsis has to do something with that pain, or it’s just pain for pain’s sake. and the further I look into EP/HS2, the more I feel like the story is just playing it straight as a tragedy... though sometimes I wonder if it knows this.
so let's pull apart the tragedy of EP/HS2. because while I don’t really enjoy tragedies, (hence why I liked homestuck, and didn’t like EP/HS2... they are opposites in this sense), I still understand how tragedies work. catharsis can be part of it... to see something sad happen, and relate to that sadness, and feel a deep emotion... that does make sense. but the line between catharsis and just plain agitation is whether or not the pain actually provides you with a sense of relief. if the story leaves the character stuck in a bad emotional place, you feel stuck too... unable to confront the emotional burden that the story has saddled you with in a satisfying way, because it isn't even your own. in real life, when you are hurt, at least you have the ability to do whatever you need for yourself, in order to eventually feel better. I have grieved before, and somehow found it in me to laugh again since. but in stories, you rely on the author to construct the characters' response to bad events, and if things just go from bad to worse, sometimes with little resistance, the audience is eventually going to feel really agitated by the lack of relief. even stories that end in death provide catharsis due to the finality of it. the life ends, and provides a sense of closure. but EP/HS2 doesn’t give you an out. it just keeps driving many of the characters into more and more mundanely uncomfortable and dissatisfying lives, or turns them into people we would rather not know or read about.... which feels like a loss to the reader, even though the character is right there. at that point, the character's presence only makes you feel worse because they used to be someone you liked, but now they're just a reminder of your disappointment. and this level of your emotional discomfort isn't even something that the narrative will address, because it's just a side effect of how things are going. it isn't poetic, and there is no real comfort given to lighten that load... it's just unpleasant.
and on a more technical level, I would like to point out that stories create a kind of transaction between author and reader. and once you understand the status quo between you and a particular author, you can gauge the level of investment you feel safe putting in the characters. at their core, it stands to reason that stories should require conflict to be interesting. but in order to stay interesting, they also need to give us a reason to care about the conflict. in homestuck, I felt like the story set up a status quo in which we felt comfortable caring about certain characters, because we subtly trusted that the author wasn't wasting our time or jerking us around. like, you knew that a lot of crazy shit was on the table, but it felt like the story was growing, the author was interested in that growth, and thus he would not kill it. even if you couldn't begin to guess what was gonna happen next, you at least didn't have to worry about the author hugely ruining things that you liked about the story. he seemed like he liked those things too. we were all on the same page in that regard.
this is where character investment was very important to homestuck... the readers needed something to hang on to, or they'd lose interest in what was going on, and in homestuck specifically, the thing that kept us hanging on, was our love for these characters, and our wish to see them prevail against the odds. we were hoping for a satisfying ending, and interested in how we'd get there. and by now, I think homestuck fans in particular are very determined to stick to the characters by nature. if we weren't, then we would've been bored out of reading the comic in the first place back in act 1, when the most exciting thing that had happened was John going through his house and finding his dad in the kitchen. if you don't love John at least a little, you won't want to keep reading about him picking up items and describing them to you for a whole chapter, with not but the entertainment value of his character's particular perspective and voice to sustain you.
obviously, character investment isn't always a story's draw... but it was definitely homestuck’s. and even giving EP/HS2 the benefit of the doubt... let's say we're just judging it on the merits of being a tragic story. there are many levels of engagement that a story can hit, and in a lot of tragedies, the interest comes from the machinations of the plot. you already know it's going to end sadly, but you have the ability to process the sadness (a negative emotional experience and potential reader deterrent) while still maintaining interest, because you want to know how it will happen. it is unfortunate then, that EP/HS2 isn't a stand alone story, independent from homestuck itself. because if you tell a homestuck fan that the story will now only end in sadness, they likely won't want to know how it happens. because they already decided to like and relate to these characters, and wish for their happiness. they were taught it was okay to hope for that, based on the way the story used to be. basically, one of the essential appeals of homestuck (character investment) is actively working against the core appeal of a tragedy (understanding how sad events came to pass) because homestuck's appeal worked so well to begin with. it's basically nonsensical to try and jump track from one to the other, because the reader is much more likely to fall off the wagon entirely, and ignore your story in order to preserve their enjoyment of the story they already consumed.
but to get way more blunt about this... homestuck was good, and ruining what it left us with was unpopular for obvious reasons. fans were successfully invested in the story, the final triumphant payoff was a satisfying way to cap the narrative, and honestly... I think homestuck probably should've just stopped while the vibes were good. people were satiated. they were sad that it was over, but the sadness came from fondness, and that just sort of felt appropriate. we had it so good.
the transaction between author and reader was stable at that point. we had conflict. we had a reason to care. we got a resolution. there was a level of trust established, and honored... we trusted that there was a rhythm to the story. a push and pull between the kind of threat that would necessitate action from our heroes, and the ability of the characters to overcome the conflict well enough that we'd be left with something satisfying in the end. this trust no longer exists in EP/HS2. the epilogues broke it, and homestuck 2 has failed to repair it because, to be honest, it was already too badly damaged. it would take a full retcon to actually bring that back after the epilogues, but then it uh... screwed the pooch all over again. sorry, that was insensitive.
anyway. so like... what about the particulars of the story's content? I mean... I know I'm dissatisfied because a lot of the characters have been blatantly destroyed. Dirk will be my example for this bit, I mean, just look at him. in one epilogue route he commits suicide, and by making Ult. Dirk a thing, they effectively unestablished the identity of Dirk as he was in homestuck. and my limited knowledge of the epilogues doesn't allow me to really know about this, but was there even any acknowledgement of how death works in homestuck? Dirk must've known that if he killed himself, he'd end up as a ghost out in the dream bubbles. that is still a thing, right? Dave could've gone looking for him. considering Dirk's pesterquest route, he should've wanted to. and see, there's an example of what might've approached catharsis in a situation like that... pain, but also a human person dealing with that pain in a way that feels like fulfillment. but as far as I've heard, the story didn't go there? so it's just pain for pain's sake... or maybe just a bid to get rid of the more complex version of his character and replace him with an anime villain. and the method doesn't even make any sense, like, Dirk is the last character that would ever commit suicide because, by his own canonical words, he is scared to not exist. he literally couldn't bring himself to destroy the AR because of this, in spite of having every technical and emotional reason to want to. this is a major pain point for him, and I know it's typical to think of someone with self hatred wanting to kill themselves, but Dirk is a particularly different case. he should not be shoved into such an ill fitting generic narrative for shock value.
and beyond that, let's say you're someone who identified with Dirk. let's say that when homestuck said "you are now Dirk Strider" you were like "oh fuck I kinda am tho" and you were invested in him ever since. let's say that the points of investment you felt with him were in his troubles with self loathing, his fear of not existing, or his trouble communicating his true feelings to others. this is a rather dismal end for Dirk to have come to... and a rather dismal story for you to read if you still relate to this character. if you're coming off the end of homestuck still securely relating to him as heavily as you did when he was allowed to triumph, how fucking bad is it gonna feel to see him so thoroughly obliterated? to whiplash so hard from a perceived success to such abject failure is just mean. this story is so mean now, like, everyone's got the bug it seems.
and not only do several characters perish (literally, or by being mismanaged) for cheap drama in EP/HS2, but some just turn into shitty people? like, Rose recently revealed that she cheated on Kanaya. I simply hate the idea that Rose would grow up to be the type of person who would do that. I remember Rose in acts 1 through 5 being the kind of person who had misguided ideas about what course of action she thought would be effective. she would make some pretty big decisions, and act on destructive impulses, often in spite of what her friends thought was safe. in essence, I can see where the authors of homestuck 2 would get the idea of Rose going off and doing big shit without telling people. but this ignores why she was so determined to do any of that stuff in the first place... Rose was just as invested in protecting the people she cared about as anyone. and besides that, I thought her arc in those early acts had taught her something about that approach? I thought she got closer to people, to the point where they could voice a concern and she'd listen.
in regards to her relationship with Kanaya in particular, there's a huge difference between knowing someone for a day at the age of 13, and spending 3 more years getting to know and love that person before deciding to marry them. so even if this was the reflection of a quality that Rose had back then, I thought she grew past it... she had ample time and opportunity... we even watched her get better about this sort of thing. literally this rolls back her character development to when she was a child, and makes her a shitty adult. and if I’m being really scathing here, I might as well say that this feels like an example of that thing that stories sometimes do, where they only care about a relationship while the characters are struggling to get together. and then once they are together, it timeskips past their relationship being functional and lands you at a point where they're experiencing turbulence. at which point it leverages their relationship trouble for drama, rather than letting the two function well as a unit against an outside threat of some kind. like, no happy couples exist in fiction! gotta wring your conflict out of the fact that they’re falling apart! it feels like they’re being exploited by the writers.
and worst of all... this betrayal of trust by Rose either ruins Rose and Kanaya's marriage, or makes Kanaya seem like a fool. I keep thinking back to their time on the meteor, when Rose asked if Kanaya was breaking up with her because they finally reached that tipping point where Rose's drinking had to be acknowledged as a problem. and Kanaya said that no, she wasn't breaking up with her, and stuck with Rose because she was dedicated to loving her even if that meant helping her with a serious problem. that was such a strong character moment for Kanaya. it displayed her loyalty and dedication to Rose, but also a nuanced understanding of when a problem can actually be solved by dedicated effort. having her be so committed to staying with Rose in spite of Rose's transgressions is like a perversion of those positive qualities. now it just feels like Kanaya is irrationally willing to put up with anything from Rose, no matter how egregious. it takes a trait that was so nice about Kanaya, and uses it in such an upsetting way... and honestly, there was no reason to do that.
but this is a huge problem with EP/HS2... there's like, juuuuuust enough of a through line for people to think that it makes sense. so when I try to say that the characters are just better people than this, and that they're smart enough to do the most basic fundamental things to prevent pain in people that they care about... when I say I believe in the integrity of these characters, I could very well get someone adamantly insisting that I was just being naive. that sometimes, in reality, people disappoint you. what can I even do about that, without sounding like I'm in denial, or like I'm only interested in liking these characters when all their rough spots are smoothed away? how can I begin to articulate that these aren't decisions being made by the characters... they're decisions being made by authors who I don't trust for exactly this reason. and I very especially hate this because just... no! I know what these characters' flaws actually were! and what their strengths were! I had a solid read on their identity, because homestuck was so friggin good at establishing that! I know that a huge part of Rose coming into her own was learning how to cut all the snarky passive aggressive sarcasm and just be honest about her feelings... something that she actually advocated for when talking to Dave, but also had to learn to do herself. the logical escalation of Rose’s character would be a trend toward more openness... but also, just in general, Rose never had a kindness problem. like, I guess that’s the biggest thing I have an issue with. Rose was never this unkind.
it just feels like the writers want us to believe that not only was Kanaya played for a fool, but we were as well. we thought Rose was better than this. we thought we were better judges of character than this. and honestly... we were! the writing was not on the wall about this development. but that just doesn't mean anything because EP/HS2 said that it happened.
and this also harms the relatability of Rose for the people who used to identify with her. I'm not saying she has to be perfect... obviously, characters can and should be flawed. and characters can have flaws that you don't perfectly relate to the specifics of. Rose developed a drinking problem at a young age, which a few people might've related to, but it's very specific. but if you broaden the implications of that in the context of a story... a ton of people will be able to relate to the concept of developing an unhealthy coping mechanism, or doing something you don't really enjoy just to relate to a relative who has been distant to you for whatever reason, or even just having a complicated relationship with a parent. so what if you apply this kind of broadened meaning to Rose's cheating? the idea that she is not trustworthy. that she hides major, life altering information from people who are very close to her and should've been told. that she doesn't trust her partner, and would rather sneak around and hide this for years, rather than either letting her partner be involved in this part of her life, or accepting that her partner isn't comfortable with this development and respecting that boundary. this sort of thing is really alienating to people who know that they themselves are better than this. and “alienating” is the exact antithesis of what homestuck always was to the people who loved it.
what's especially interesting to me, is that the effects of this alienation actually come through in the way that people talk about EP/HS2 nowadays. I don't know if anyone has noticed this trend yet, but people tend to talk about the events of EP/HS2 as decisions made by writers, rather than decisions made by characters. which is weird, because people didn't do that so much with homestuck. and for this I wanna break out Vriska as an example. a lot of people like Vriska, and a lot of people hate Vriska. she's controversial. but no matter what, people always take Vriska's actions as though they're hers. and if they hate what Vriska does in the story, then they hate Vriska. not Hussie, for writing her that way. not even the vague concept of the narrative. they consider Vriska's actions to actually belong to her and form her identity, which they then pass judgment on, one way or another. Hussie is even a character that canonically exists within homestuck, and nobody ever thought to blame him, in universe, for being the origin of Vriska as a trouble causing entity in the story. compare that with how many times you'll see someone say that they don't like what the EP/HS2 writers have done with Rose, Jade, Jane, etc.... they tend not to actually level blame at the characters themselves. obviously this does vary a lot from person to person, but as a vague trend, I would say that people are starting to detach themselves from the characters, or at least detach the characters from their actions in EP/HS2. and to me it reads as a bit of a defense mechanism. it is a degree of separation that lets these characters keep their integrity, and the potential for positive development that they had when homestuck initially ended. it is a trend that, to me, proves the point that the level of pain for pain's sake in this story is too much. without relief, people disengage. even if they want to keep up with how the characters are doing, they no longer want to buy into the narrative's reality... so they acknowledge the author, and the fact that this is fiction. they remove themselves from the act of being invested. and the more adamantly you see people doing this, the more uncomfortable you can assume it feels for these people to buy into the events of the story and treat them as real.
to jump track to another odd point that I think creates a further barrier between cast and audience... has anyone noticed the age of the main cast's children that we've seen appear so far? all of them seem to be similar to the ages of the beta kids when we first met them. they're teenagers. and that means that, if my knowledge is correct, we kinda skipped a chunk of these people's lives. we never really spent time seeing the original homestuck kids as new parents... we never saw them raising their babies. and I get that this is an odd complaint, but it's an example of the story not growing with its audience. it's missing a huge opportunity, not only to show us this portion of their lives, but to fill in with some major world building when it comes to Earth C. are we supposed to assume that absolutely none of the main cast of homestuck made any new friends on Earth C? did they not explore what kind of culture popped up on this planet? what if one of the main cast had gone out and met someone totally new to befriend or love on this planet? but no... we're strictly only interested in the original cast and their kids, which they only ever had with each other, and nobody is really friends anymore, but nobody has met anyone new either... basically depression and isolation is the only option for these characters if the writers aren't willing to actually let them live in the world they're living in. and besides that, at time of writing, there is one friend of mine from my friend group that is just now planning on getting married. he'll be the first of all of us. and while he and his fiancé want kids pretty quickly once they're settled down, it still hasn't even happened yet. we're in our late 20s. and believe me, I understand the desire to timeskip to when the kids are old enough to be full people, but you have to remember not only that there are other ways to introduce new characters, but also who we're even trying to relate to here. is it the new kids, or their parents? because most of us aren't parents yet, much less the parents of teenagers, but we aren’t teenagers anymore either, and this isn’t framed as their story anyway. how are the majority of homestuck’s older fans represented in EP/HS2?
and when EP/HS2 skips the portion of these characters' lives that we, in real life, are actually living, it subtly hints that a story that would reflect what our lives are like isn't interesting, and tells us that not much good is expected to be waiting in our futures either. and the bigger problem with that is that the writing decisions in EP/HS2 represent the authors' answer to the question: how do we make this interesting? clearly they didn't think that anyone would be satisfied with a nice little romp through the lives these characters might've built. like, a slice of life type of story? or maybe something with a smaller stakes conflict? I dunno why, but my first thought was like... what if Jane ended up actually becoming a detective, and the story just had an intermission-style detour into her solving a case or something? at least a weird, hyper specific detour like that would signal that we care about what she's doing... that'd be fine by me! but they couldn't even give us something that would frame her as a good person... they just treated her like she never got un-possessed by the Condesce, and called it a day. it just feels like these are authors who wouldn't be satisfied with a story that lets the characters be at ease in their private lives. peace is something that is off the table, like, if the characters are living good, satisfying lives, we will never hear about it because apparently that counts as nothing to report.
but also... in the absence of the larger plot machinations that SBURB provided, what was left to create a struggle for these characters to face? it couldn't be Jack Noir, Lord English, the Condesce... those threats all got resolved. and they couldn’t let the characters exist in any facsimile of peace. so the writers needed something to stir things up. and in trying to find a new challenge to drive the story, they dug into the stuff that, in my opinion, should not have been used in this way. they began grasping at character drama, trying to wring conflict out of the deterioration of the relationships between the characters.
but at the same time, they're trying to capture the grandeur of homestuck during its more iconic moments. and okay, this is a pretty far out there speculation, but I've always made this observation about homestuck, and the way it got popularized. early on, fans would get into it with no real idea of how big or ambitious the story was going to be. going into act 1 blind, you wouldn't suspect this comic of being much more than a quirky, funny little weekly strip, set up for the sole purpose of making weird jokes about Nic Cage or Harry Anderson. then you get to the big shit. which in act 1 could just be the meteor destroying John's house. but that's a pretty impressive amount of escalation based on the expectations you had. fast forward to a bigger moment, like the reveal that the trolls' SGRUB session created the human universe, and you're super excited about this. so you tell whoever will listen that they should really read homestuck! and maybe they listen, and they go to page one and... well... they seem kind of unimpressed by the way the comic looks. this is what all the hype was about? and you really wanna sell it to them, so you're like, no, seriously, it gets so much better. and maybe you show them bits like the LOWAS walk around flash game, or maybe [S] make her pay, or something. and they're like, whoa, the comic gets like that? so perhaps they slog through the early acts, or maybe they just skip to the trolls and double back when they're confused enough... but either way, the comic's selling point is now it's climax, not the buildup.
and the problem with viewing the comic this way is that homestuck is both things. proportionally, homestuck is actually way more composed of the tedious little stuff than the grand big stuff. but homestuck was popularized via the grand big stuff, and sometimes I feel like EP/HS2 is attempting to fill itself with big stuff like that, but it isn't doing the legwork right. it's using character drama to fuel itself, but it's also trying to be highly epic in terms of its presentation. the lack of contrast flattens everything out, and as I described earlier, the story no longer has that essential push and pull between the terrorizing forces that threaten the characters/raise the stakes, and the unity and likability of the cast that makes you care about their struggle/gets you invested in seeing the conflict resolved. and I just wanna point out that those little interstitial bits... the ones that are typically viewed as the stuff you have to slog through in order to get to the interesting part? those were our main source of knowledge when it came to the characters. it's how we got invested in them and came to know that we liked or related to them in the first place.
the larger ramifications of this lean away from the little things, while also leaning into character drama to fuel conflict in the plot, leads to the overuse of bombastic character drama. sensationalized character drama. everything is always a huge fucking deal, while also being primarily concerned with the existing characters, rather than any kind of outside threat. so what are the tools? a wedding? a funeral? terminal illness, betrayal, a change in ideology that creates a schism... the loss of identity. all these high drama moments that generate conflict by sacrificing the bonds these characters shared. you know... letting that core piece of investment self destruct. the story is basically eating itself in order to sustain its momentum, but there's basically no point anymore. it's been gutted of the stuff that really mattered.
so why did everything go so badly? why do half of the characters not even like each other anymore? why do we not even like half of them anymore? why did the writers feel the need to dismantle them like this? well, because what else do we have to work with... how do you introduce a new threat to these characters without it being either SBURB all over again, or something entirely different that just makes these characters seem overwhelmingly put upon by the universe, like, more than any other individuals that have ever existed. it's actually a very rudimentary power escalation problem. gotta find that next level of bigger problem to set on everyone.
but do you wanna know what kind of homestuck fan I’ve been since the very beginning? I started reading homestuck 9 years ago. I think I was like 16 or 17? and at first I wasn’t sure how to interact with the comic, so I went to the “about” section of the website. it told me, in a broad sense, what mspaintadventures.com was, as a collection of work, and suggested that I begin by reading problem sleuth. not knowing that it wasn’t part of homestuck, I did just that. I read all of it. before I even got to homestuck. I am a fan that lives for the small, stupid, tedious fucking around. the slow buildup of total bullshit... the complex setup that gives you a million microscopic payoffs on it’s way to god knows what end goal. it’s like watching an explosion in reverse. all the tiny little pieces fly chaotically together and coalesce into a whole story, and you got to watch it build itself, piece by tiny little piece. I live and breathe for that level of detail. and the most fun I ever had with the story was when the characters were wandering around an environment, exploring and using various objects to set up these wacky chain reactions, half of which you’d never see coming, but which would all retroactively make sense in the end.
what I’m saying is that small scale conflict is interesting. and there are whole genres that build themselves off of this. I actually think that in certain instances, homestuck may fall under the slice of life genre. and slice of life is largely misunderstood as a rather bland genre, but the appeal is watching people with personalities that you enjoy. you watch them live their lives, and you go along for the ride. true slice of life is not a soap opera... it’s just enjoying the company of people who happen to be fictional. there's always been an element of that in homestuck... these were characters that you could see yourself getting along with if you met them. they were entertaining because of how they saw the world... how you would see the world if you were looking through their eyes. and homestuck gave you that opportunity. sometimes, that actually is all that you need.
I'm not saying that homestuck's ideal form is as a purely slice of life type of story... but wasn't that kind of what a lot of the fan works felt like? little comics about funny scenarios, or preexisting comedy bits with roles assigned to the characters they reminded you of... that stuff was the form that fun took for the fans of this comic. why is that so easily dismissed as frivolous? why is it so bad to want a little of that back? sometimes, you do wanna get into the hard stuff. maybe you wanna see Dave and Dirk have a conversation where they both admit that all they wanted as kids was a brother, and neither felt like they got to have that, but in very different ways. maybe you wanna see Roxy and Rose compare their similar feelings of estrangement, and explore the emotions that led them into their respective struggles with alcohol. maybe you wanna see John have a moment of sadness when he decides he wants to raise a kid, because he misses his own dad, and while Jane's dad is definitely family, he isn't the guy that actually raised John for the first 13 years of his life. maybe you wanna see Jade get inordinately clingy with every single one of her friends until one of them finally voices a concern about needing some space, only to see a glimpse of Jade's absolute terror at the thought of being alone again. and that pain is something that could definitely find a place in a story with more actual down time. maybe these moments of actually cathartic lingering pain could be explored with sensitivity in a story that gives them room to breathe. if the writers played their cards right and let the characters heal in meaningful ways, they might've even gotten tears of happiness out of a few of us. wouldn't that have been wild.
I just hate the idea that something is more realistic if it's dark. that's not true at all. I understand where the sentiment comes from. I understand the merits of taking an unflinching look at hard truths. but cynicism is not the same as realism. and realistically, people will try hard to seek good things for themselves in life. and even if they miss the mark... even if they fall into depression, or lack the ability to make their dreams a reality, these particular characters had already sought and found good people. people who would, realistically, absolutely help a friend if they needed it. I know this, because I watched them do that. the whole first five acts were literally about the trolls yelling at the humans because there was a huge problem that they blamed the kids for causing, and what did these kids do? they said "hey wait, let's fix that" and they did. even though the trolls made a horribly rude first impression. even though it was monumentally challenging. these kids have fought and died for each other's sake. they are family. if not by blood then by bond. and when that part of a story resonates with an audience, it is valuable.
I feel like I shouldn't have to defend the value of connecting positively with an audience. I get that this may be kind of a hokey take... I get that the people who currently like EP/HS2 will probably think I'm asking for something far too saccharine. but at this point I don't even care. once again, this is just my personal opinion, long and rant-like though it may be. and clearly it will change nothing about the current state of homestuck's most canon non-canon continuation. I guess my one major frustration is the extent to which some people have bought into what I consider to be blatant character defamation. it pains me when people talk about the actions of some of the characters in EP/HS2, because while many blame the writers for the unsettling behavior displayed by them in EP/HS2, some will readily consider this to be where the kids from the early acts really ended up as people.
#homestuck#homestuck^2#fair warning this is all criticism#don't like don't read#and all that jazz#I'm pinning this post cuz I don't wanna lose it#because looking at it will be my self control when I wanna rant about it again and I know I will#like no you asshole you already ranted you don't have to do it again#cw: suicide#I legit forgot to tag that til I went to get a shower and realized halfway through#I basically info dumped all this here and then my head was well and truly empty#also#cw: cheating#?#idk that's the only other thing I can think of that I discussed here which might be a problem for some folks#btw subtle tag whispering that the reblog with tags explaining where a couple of the things I mentioned were addressed a little was nice#I knew I wouldn't get everything spot on... this is definitely criticism coming from a not 100% informed place#but yeah... I still kinda feel like even if the epilogues acknowledge the writer as an entity that differs from the characters...#that just kind of doubles down on the inability of fans to engage? like it cements it.#and even if meat does focus on their 20s while candy timeskips (which I wasn't aware of) like...#look at what happened to meat#look because I don't want to lol#is there anybody left who isn't sad?#cuz real talk I like using happy characters as wish fulfillment when I'm sad#and seeing a character get challenged and still come out with some determined positive energy... I love that#anyone remember when Aradia went god tier? I was overjoyed#literally all it took was her beating apathy and regaining her personhood#I love that stuff#god fucking damn it I'm still ranting what is even up with that
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Inevitable, Ch 1
Aight. So, I got crotchety and decided to write a fic. Obvious disclaimer, I don’t own the characters or universe in which the story takes place - yes internet I am that old, thank you.
Summary: Monty is alive, in jail. A recounting of his experiences and memories and basically all those flashbacks we weren’t given in season 4 that I am butthurt about. It is AU in the sense that he is still alive whilst Clay & Co are attempting to frame him for Bryce’s murder. Obvious spoiler alerts if you haven’t seen season 4.
Pairings will be Monty x Winston mainly. So far this is all from Monty’s POV but that may change down the line.
Warnings include violence, sex, drug use, rape, murder, and basically everything graphic and bad you can imagine. Will absolutely contain smut. Oh, and swearing. Yay, debauchery. 
Word Count: 2,963
Another warning: I haven’t written fanfiction for like...15 years guys. Go easy on me. Also, please excuse the shitty username. I didn’t pick it and I am far too lazy to change it.
Another another warning: This is from Monty’s point of view. Clearly he didn’t view his actions with the totality of how devastatingly monsterous they were. I condemn his actions, he’s a rapist and deserved jail time. As we saw in s3 and in snippets of s4 he didn’t share that point of view. I think Monty is a dynamic character that’s interesting and I relate a lot to his back story. That’s why I was motivated to write this.
The air was thick, heavy, and moist. It had that stench of too many bodies crammed into an enclosed space, like the end of the night at a house party and you're still sober and all you can smell is stale sweat and the old farts that people pretend they aren't sneaking out when they're grinding on each other.
Not that I have much experience with being the sober one at the end of the night.
Montgomery de la Cruz kept his jaw clenched and shoulders squared as he walked to the dining hall. As he passed other men, all dressed in the same ugly orange jumpsuits, he made brief eye contact. Walking with your eyes down here was a sign of weakness and he had a target on his back from the moment he arrived. His shoulders, back, and ribs ached with his movements. It hadn't taken the other inmates long to get acquainted with him, a matter of hours really. The urge to hunch his shoulders and put a hand to stable his broken ribs was overwhelming, and fighting it made the vein in his neck throb annoyingly in cadence with his pulse and footsteps.
  White, black, brown, gnarled, wrinkled, scarred, baby-faced youth, tattooed or not.... Monty silently made an inventory of their faces and features. One way or another, they were all just fucking assholes waiting for their opportunity. It was baffling just how much it reminded him of high school. The dining hall even had the same layout as a cafeteria, the same dull drone of a few hundred pricks all talking at once. He scanned his I.D. and settled into the end of the meal tray line, leaving an arm's length of room between himself and the back of the inmate ahead of him. He was a slight, wiry Latino with a snake tattooed from his shoulders up his neck. Only moderately safer than lining up behind someone else. Race dictated almost everything here.
But his charges changed the rules. Sexually assaulting a minor carried out its own price in jail. He wasn't even safe within his own demographic. 
Which was fucking bullshit anyway. Tyler was basically the same age and it wasn't fucking sexual assault for fuck's sake.
Not that anyone here gave a fuck.
Oh, and then there were the murder charges. Fucking Clay Jensen. He grabbed the plastic tray from the stack. It was the same ugly beige that the cement walls were painted. There were slits for windows close to the ceiling like a low-rent basement suite in the wrong part of town, with that cage wire in-between the panes of glass. So small even a tiny bitch like Standall wouldn't fit through them. It was incredible how much the human body craved the fresh air and cool breeze of an open window the moment you realize you may never feel it on your skin again.
Lunch was by far the best meal of the day. The food wasn't...terrible. Today it was plain lettuce chopped up as a 'salad', sliced ham on white Wonder Bread, and some kind of from the bag frozen brown slop passed off as soup.  The silver lining was the butterscotch pudding. It reminded him of the milk cake his mom used to make him on his birthday, sort of. He stopped at each station and watched the inmates who worked the kitchen plop the items on his tray. The kitchen work was reserved for the favourites, for the most part. After all, what else are you gonna do on the outside with a record?
He looked for an empty table and dropped his tray on it with a soft clacking of plastic on poured concrete. The tables and chairs were rows of picnic style benches made out of concrete and steel, bolted into the concrete floor. They were hard, cold, and uncomfortable just like everything else in this fuckin' place. He supposed that was the point. Everyone here was just in the grown-up version of a time out corner... from life, possibly for life. He sat down, the cold, hard seat digging into the bones in his ass.
It was unnerving, intimidating... and so terrifying he had been breathless since the moment he arrived. Like a white hot fist was clenched across his whole chest, suffocating him with the weight of his fucking mistakes. So many fucking mistakes. It made his head spin like he was living in some kind of alternate reality or a fucking nightmare. Although, if he was honest...he always knew it would end up like this. Especially without Bryce around to clean up his fucking mess this time.
The hot night air whipped his face as he pressed on the gas pedal, the stars flashing by above him as he sped down the empty road. Justin reached between them and turned the volume up, blasting the music so he felt it pumping through himself like a weird tachycardia.
"I fucking love this song." He yelled, sparking up a joint. He took a few puffs off of it to get it started before passing it over. When he exhaled the air around them swilled with the familiar skunky aroma. Monty laughed, guiding the old Jeep with one hand and reaching for the joint with the other.
"Of course you do, its a shitty fucking song." he chuckled, inhaling in a slow pull. It burned at the back of his throat. He held it in for a few seconds before exhaling and shaking his head and passing it back.
"That's cheap shit."
"Well yeah, I'm not fucking Bryce Walker." Justin laughed, the streetlights illuminating his black eye. His mother had a new asshole boyfriend who picked tonight to use Justin as a human punching bag...and well that's what brothers were for. It's not like Monty had anything better to do, anyway. He flipped his signal to turn right and pulled into the parking lot by the rocky beach. They could throw rocks and sticks into the water, maybe set some shit on fire and get shitfaced. Justin took another hit off the joint and pinched the end out with his fingertips, rubbing the ash into his skin like a salve.
"Neither am I, man, neither am I..." he muttered. Justin and Monty weren't the most unlikely of friends. Justin was a bit worse off than him in the family department, sort of. But Bryce Walker? Sometimes he wondered if not for the team what was the thread that held them together.
"Fucking Bryce." Justin muttered as Monty cut the engine. The silence without the music was sudden and deafening. "Of course he's out of town with his dad on vacation."
"Probably getting laid." Monty added, laughing. Justin laughed too. Justin Foley was like...allergic to being alone. The fuckin' guy had kicked puppy written all over his face, always needing a lap to curl up in...and in the absence of that there was always a powder or a needle to get him through til the next adoption. But he was such a drag and a honest to god pain in the ass on the field when he was in withdrawal or detoxing. So. Monty was here to pick up the pieces before it jeopardized the team. And he didn't mind. It was better than being at home...
He pulled the keys out and stepped out. The California summer air meant he didn't need the doors or the top on the Jeep and he enjoyed the freedom. Justin matched his footsteps as they silently walked on to the rocky beach. His trademarked puppy dog eyes were mournfully eyeing the skyline where it met the ocean. Monty casually reached down and picked up a rock, watching it skip across the waves when he tossed it. Justin stuffed his hands in the pockets of his varsity jacket.
"Sometimes I wonder why he even fuckin' bothers with a couple of fuck ups like us." He muttered, casting his eyes down.
So that's what we're gonna do, Monty thought, we're gonna mope... fuck that.
"Now Justy, imagine how fucking boring his life would be without us. Just an endless string of bitches to rail and expensive scotch." He skipped another rock and glanced over, leaned in and gently knocked his shoulder into Justin's, knocking the other boy off balance. Justin laughed and locked eyes with Monty for a moment.
"I guess you're right about that yeah." he laughed. It was a small, unsure laugh at first but Monty saw the sorrow break a bit in his eyes. He was good at noticing these subtle things, noticing things was often what saved his ass. If you knew to watch when someone's eyes changed, or the way their muscles tensed and moved you could easily predict what they were going to do. Quite often this was what was between him and a clenched fist to his face.
Monty and Justin had similarities, Monty could admit that, but where Justin pulled inward and consumed himself, brought himself down, Monty hardened and clenched his fist right back at the world.
If he was honest, he thought Foley was weak. But that's what brothers are for, they protect each other. The strong look out for the weak, especially in their weakest moments.
"I mean, who are we kidding," Justin said, "He's going to go off to like Stanford or Princeton or something..." He leaned down and picked up a rock, running his fingers over the smooth, cold surface.
"You couldn't pay me to go to one of those stuffy ass places anyway." Monty countered, kicking at some of the rocks by his feet, scuffing a small trench into the sand beneath. "I get sick just thinking about it."
"Yeah." Justin agreed, "I just... all these fuckin' rich kids..."
"Yeah. And their tight pants and cardigans." Monty snorted, watching Justin's face break into another smile.
"Fucking cardigan's. Like a fucking grandpa."
"I'm not going to live long enough to get old, so I can't relate." Monty said loudly, almost like forced bravado. He liked being obnoxious, to smile out of spite.
"Yeah," Justin laughed, "You're gonna die in prison with a fuckin' shiv between your ribs."
Monty laughed, watching Justin release his rock with a flick of his wrist. It skipped once over the glassy surface before falling into its inky black depths. 
"And you're gonna die with a fuckin' needle in your arm...or-" His face cracked into a grin.
"Maybe you'll get the fuckin hiv."
Justin laughed loudly and gave Monty a shove.
"It's H-I-V,  dumbass."
"Yeah, but hiv rhymes with shiv. We'll both get ivved." He crowed proudly, shoving Justin back lightly with both his hands. Justin took a half-hearted swing at him, but he dodged it easily and picked up a piece of driftwood as he ran by, swinging around and walloping the other boy in the ass. Justin's legs buckled and he took a few steps, laughing and chucking  handful of small rocks at him. They pinged over his broad chest like hail on a shitty day.
"Fuck you, Monty!"
"Ohh wouldn't you like to though, Justy." Monty countered, turning around and dropping his pants off his cheeks. He bent over and smacked his own ass, "I'm waiting!" He laughed, his face breaking into a slightly demented grin. He felt the stinging welt of a stick being whipped across his bare skin and jumped, yanking his pants back up. He yelped, turning around, the grin not leaving his face.
"Fuck no, you'd like it too much. Perv." Justin pointed the stick at him. Monty picked up the stick he had dropped before and aimed for Justin's thigh, but Justin blocked it and whacked Monty again, this time in his side. They continued to chase, smack, and poke at each other, delighting in the mutual torment.
"Fuck you're relentless." Justin declared in defeat, dropping his stick with a laugh and holding his hands up with surrender. He was panting, his pasty skin clammy in the moonlight.
"It's one of my more endearing qualities." Monty said with a devilish grin as he bowed. "That and my abs."
"Fuck your 'roid ass abs." Justin half wheezed. "Think Bryce will read our obituaries from his penthouse drinking his fucking scotch?"
"Nah man," Monty laughed with a shake of his head, "They don't write obituaries for shitheads like us."
Monty was yanked out of his drifting memories when another man sat across from him with a thump that rattled the table. The boy stared at the man for a moment, one triangular quarter of his shitty dry sandwich poised in his hand as he was about to take a bite. He bit down and chewed, watching the intruder with feigned disinterest. He was good at this. Putting on a front.
Until he couldn't anymore, that is. Until the mask slipped and revealed the scared, desperate pile of shit inside.
The man was at least six feet tall, three-and-some hundred pounds, white as mayonnaise with a big ol' swastika on his bicep. He had an earring in one ear and some scars down his face, chest, and arms. Scratches. Wounds made from desperate, terrified women in self defense. He was bald as a gummy walnut, his scalp weirdly wrinkled and beginning to be dotted with age spots. He was at least mid-fifties, Monty figured. Total skinhead. Asshole. Word of mouth said his rap sheet was a few miles long, most recently connected to a decent string of raped and murdered girls and women. Almost all of them were involved in the sex trade, women or girls of colour. He was a truck driver who used his profession as a tool to evade the police, making it hard to pin him down because he changed locations across different jurisdictions. The varied age and ethnicities of his victims didn't help the police either. Some were as young as 12 years old, and others as old as mid 40's. He, too, was awaiting sentencing. Obviously whatever happened, he'd end up in a maximum state prison.
Couldn't fit the stereotype more if he tried, Monty thought, disgusted.
That's the shit end of the stick awaiting sentencing in a county jail. You get petty crooks like Tim Pozzy who likely won't even get real time, and then assholes like this behemoth pile of trash.
Monty chewed his food, watching silently as the neonazi asshole reached across the table and took his pudding. His fingers were fat, like pale bloated sausages. He opened it, maintaining eye contact with Monty. His eyes were an icy blue, and they seemed devoid of anything. They say the eyes are the window to the soul... and there was nothing there. It sent a shiver down the 18 year old's spine and made the hair on the back of his neck tickle. He smiled, showing that he was clearly in desperate need of dental care. He didn't have many teeth left, and the ones that remained were brownish-greyish nubs of rot. Monty thanked whatever god or demon that might be listening that he couldn't smell this guy's breath. It just looked like it would inevitably stink. The whole time he felt the old familiar build up, the inevitable time bomb tick, tick, ticking through his veins. His blood sounded like thunder in his ears.
How is it that I fuck with Ty-ty, just some fucking hazing, not a big deal...and I get labelled a pedophile and a rapist - a fucking rapist for fuck's sake - and this guy...this guy basically runs this place...
It's not like he wanted to fuck Tyler. That's disgusting. He wanted to hurt him, and he could admit that was wrong. Sure. But the little creep had ruined his life, and for that he had to pay. It was simple.
This asshole, though, was the real pedophile. The only difference was Monty had the audacity to target a white male, the untouchable. And this guy stuck to the easily forgotten targets.
He stuck out a surprisingly short, wide, tongue that looked like it was covered in herpes lesions and licked the foiled plastic lid of the pudding. Monty felt it come alive inside of him, blinding and electric. White hot rage boiled through his veins, exploding in his head and lighting every muscle in his body so that he had to move or it would consume him. He couldn't have stopped himself if he had wanted to try, and he didn't bother with the wasted effort.
In a swift, smooth motion he grabbed his lunch tray with his free hand and backhanded the other man up the jaw with it and stood. Before the asshole had time to react, he used his other hand to grip the top of his head - ham sandwich and all, and slam his face into the concrete table and the pudding. Blood and pudding spurted in all directions like a moneyshot of rage jizz and he felt relief hearing the echoing crack of the larger man's skull. He didn't even have time to bask in the afterglow of his violence before he felt the familiar thud of knuckles to the bottom left of his jaw, the blow eliciting a sickening pop and sending him reeling out of control. He stumbled, losing his balance as vision went static like a television without a connection. He tasted the all too familiar coppery flavour of blood filling his mouth. He spat and staggered and threw a blind fist out, feeling it connect to something, but what he wasn't sure. The immediate agony and crack told him it was in fact the fucking table and he probably broke some fingers. That's when he took a second, devastating blow to his head and everything went black.
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indieks · 4 years
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Two Nights, One Da(y)te 🌒 Lee Jooheon | 1.5/2
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🔥 Pairing : Lee Jooheon x Reader
🔥 Genre : Soulmate!AU, Angst, Fluff, Suggestive (light)
🔥 Word count : 25.3k
🔥 Synopsis : He should have been just another Tinder match you would have swiped off your life just like you swiped your thumb on your screen that night, hadn’t it been for the deep connection that bonds you to him. He is your soulmate, you are a girl he can’t help but get attracted to. You are seeking for the perfect relationship, he is trying to stay away from love. Would the few times you come across each other be enough for your opposite hearts to face the same direction?
Part 1 /\ Part 1.5 /\ Part 2
🔥 A/N : I don’t know where I should begin... I’m so relieved to finally be able to publish the sequel of this story, but I’m so sorry at the same time for being this late. My past year (I can’t believe it’s already been a year) has been hectic and busy, my studies being the most intensive and time-solliciting ever. But I’ve managed to type a few words here and there, to finally come up with this part ; and no, it isn’t the ending one like I had planned to, because I had so many things to tell that it would’ve been too long, so I had to cut it into two!
Anyway, I just wanted to thank every single one of you who’ll take the time to read this, especially if there are some of you who were still waiting... I’ve missed Tumblr and I hope you’ll like it!
Disclaimer : the few new named characters I’ve introduced are purely fictional, I’ll just let your imagination be!
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"You're dozing off, again" a low voice finally snaked its way into his closed eardrums that had muted any possible sound buzzing around him, letting his messy thoughts rule over his focus and his awareness of where he actually was.
Jooheon snapped his head towards the left to peak at his interlocutor, being met by his bartender colleague's sad smile, Wonwoo, who shook him lightly as he had landed a friendly hand on his shoulder.
"You should take a break" he then suggested to the reddish-haired boy who looked back at him like a deer caught in the headlights.
"W-What? No, I'm fine, I'm sorry I just… Got a lot on my mind lately" Jooheon then brushed his offer off with a forced smile of his and a gentle nod to ask for his understanding and forgiveness.
"Hyung, I've been taking over your third customer because you've left the counter to take a bottle of vodka like five minutes ago yet never came back" Wonwoo chuckled, releasing the tensed muscles of the man next to him from his grasp.
"Five? No kidding? Wow shit I'm so sorry" Jooheon apologized again before sighing, his now squinted eyes meeting his own reflection in the glasses that were plastered behind the rows of bottles at the back of their bar.
The night club's neon-lights painted his face in warm colors, contrasting with how pale and  expressionless it had been for weeks now. He looked miserable in spite of the fancy hairstyle he had put effort in and his attempt to feel confident by opening his shirt a little bit too much for the ladies – in vain, as his mind wasn't even here to actually catch them lurking.
"It's okay hyung, I can see you're going through hardships lately. So if you need to take a small break, go ahead, you'll pay me back later" his tall friend reassured him before turning back to their counter where a crowd of thirsty people was already asking for his services.
Jooheon's knuckles that had indeed been around the bottle of alcohol he had indeed intended to bring back to the front weren't fed with blood anymore as his clench tightened around it. He was confused as hell, hell he thought he had already been living in all this time but which seemed to have darkened and deepened with discomfort ever since he had sent that very message to you and you had had the last word.
He could almost recite your answer by heart aloud, as he had come to read and reread it, the words planting swords of doubt, regret, and want in his body. And if he had managed to push it aside most of the time by busying himself with work at the club or on some music, it only took one glimpse of your face flashing randomly through his head from time to time, for him to get blocked into a quicksand of thoughts about you, about his feelings, about his choices, and his mind would be on full stop just like it had now.
But five minutes straight… Wow, that was a record.
You [00:44 a.m.] : I'm alone at my place, so now I have nothing to distract me anymore… I shall finally muster up my courage after hours of thinking about what to actually say. I don't know if I'm mad, upset, frustrated. Maybe a mix of them three. I'm sorry if I'm bothering you with a heavy block of words but I'll just let it all out. I spent a wonderful night with you last time. And as I told you back then, I like you, and I'm sorry. I like you and I can't do anything about it, I'm almost bothered by it myself, because you kind of warned me about your issues. Maybe I was the only one feeling this way, but that night was really special to me, and that independently of the fact that you're my ideal. Special enough for me to stop thinking about what should come next, which is sooo unlike me. And I thought I had somehow convinced you to do just the same, appreciating that thing between us. Between us, yes, as in from me to you, but also from you to me, because I felt like it wasn't one-sided. I shall thank you for trying to explain yourself again and your decision, but I'm having a hard time understanding why everything that had apparently made you come to me suddenly disappeared, or why it wasn't enough again for you to let things unwrap on their own and see where we would end up. See, I told you, I'm not enough, not even for my soulmate haha ! Anyway, I'll have to respect your decision because I can't do anything about it, right?"
Everything had gone well that night. Jooheon hadn't felt the time run out through his fingers wrapped around your waist, molding perfectly against your skin as if they had been supposed to land just there. Everything had gone so well, that he had thought he would finally be able to overcome his insecurities, as the way you had freed him from his knots of thoughts and his heavy shell had definitely showcased how special you were, reason why he had made a move first the afternoon following your leave and started a conversation.
However, the time with you and the messages you had exchanged had only been a suspension of the weight crushing his heart, and not its eradication. Because soon, the ghosts of Jooheon's lack of trust in himself had come back floating around him ; he had then realized he still felt betrayed too much to finally draw his sword and fight them, and chase the light you had shone on him.
Yet, why turning away from you was continuously bugging him even after three weeks of cutting ties? He missed your daily chatting, he missed your reassuring presence, and he somehow missed your touch and your lips. With just an encounter, a night next to him, and some text messages 'til the morning light, you had lodged a bullet right at his heart and the wound was spreading your print through his whole body. And now, it was as if he had run away, but with his eyes looking back at you all the while ; with the strings pulling at his bloody organ held by your hands ; with his mind paused back in that past night with you, unable to make him sort what was supposedly waiting for him onwards.
He had made this choice with the conviction that he still needed some time alone to go ahead with his life and mostly sort it out, but right now, what was left in front of him was only a battlefield of endless question marks, blocking his vision of where he should land his next footsteps away from the crossroad where his path had met yours.
Shit, he was regretting.
"Why did you change your mind, all of a sudden?" Kihyun asked him as Jooheon had ended up taking a short break with the encouragement of his colleague, and he had joined his group of friends who were sitting down at one of the fancy tables in the club.
They had been avoiding the subject for a while now as they knew how sensitive the bartender could be ; however, as the latter showed them how uneasy he felt about his decision himself to the point it had now impeached him from working correctly, Kihyun hadn't been able to hold it in any longer.
"What do you mean" Jooheon mumbled nonchalantly as he poured himself a glass of soda from one of the bottles of soft drinks they had spared.
"You told us that everything had went well that Friday night. I hadn't seen you smile like that when receiving a text for ages. So what happened, Jooheon-ah?" the boy specified, a worried expression clear on his face as his brows were furrowed and his little eyes were shining.
"In other words : why did you pee on yourself?" Changkyun tackled his friend intently, so that he'd gain a reaction from the zombie he had been all over again as if they were back when she had left him – and maybe, as a bonus, a spontaneous answer.
Bingo.
"Would you leave me alone, please? I feel like my head's gonna explode from all the overthinking about this already, so no need to add your questions to it, thanks!" Jooheon barked back at them, gulping down a huge sip from his glass before smashing it down on the table with a trembling hand.
The beverage was refreshing, but what he needed right now, were the flames of liquor to burn his insides so that he wouldn't feel them twisting anymore.
"Hey, we're trying to help here, calm down" Hoseok, one of the players of his ex-football team, warned with a hurt frown.
"Wanna know what I think?" Minhyuk spoke up, and he got an eye-roll in return.
"Actually, not that much…?" Jooheon tiredly inquired, because he knew what was about to come out of the blonde's mouth.
"I know you like the back of my hand Jooheon-ah, and what I'm sure of, is that you simply chickened out because you like the girl. And right now, you're having a headache, because you're just admitting it to yourself yet you don't know if you do want to take the proper actions that go with it, or not. I told you, that your heart doesn't give a damn about what's settled in your head" Minhyuk ignored his answer and looked him in the eye, unphased by the angry glare the fiery-haired boy shot right at him. "And while you're at it with your overthinking, just ask yourself the right questions : Did I enjoy the time I spent with her? Yes or no. Would I like it if I see her again? Yes or no. Do I wish to talk to her? Yes or no. Did I like kissing her? Would I like it if it happens ever again? Yes or no. If everything's a yes, then let me answer for you : maybe putting an end to it wasn't the best of choices, no."
"Leave me alone with your psychanalysis" Jooheon barely replied through gritted teeth, hating how that friend of his always managed to nibble right at the sensitive spot.
"We're just seeing that you're not… As okay with your decision as you've been when you had stories with no tomorrow up 'til now. And I think it's a shame that you're letting your doubts take the best of you like that, because Y/N really is a great girl and I swear she's really into you-" Kihyun started, but he got interrupted by Jooheon standing up roughly.
"I've had enough."
"Jooheon-ah, wait" Hyunwoo, the eldest of the group, got up on his feet as well in an attempt to prevent him from leaving.
"Aren't you supposed to be the ones to understand me and cut me some slack the most? You know how fucked up my mind is, you know how hard it is for me to find a solution to that blocking, you know ALL OF THAT! I've listened to you, I've tried to let myself go, but I just can't, okay?! See in what it resulted! I hurt a nice person, and I'm going crazy because I don't know why I can't make it work out this time as well!" he burst out and once he did, his eyes grew wide as a wave of guilt crashed against his head walls.
He regretted having taken his buried frustration at them. Hyunwoo took that opportunity to grab him by the nape as the boy's head had dropped in shame, before he presented under his nose the rest of the glass he hadn't finished but with a hint of whiskey he had poured in it, a gesture of comfort Jooheon had needed instead of the lecturing and review of his love-life.
"This time it's definitely different, you like her, and maybe that's why you're even more scared. But we just think this could actually be the way out of it, your attraction to her. If only you had hung to that a little bit more… Anyway, sorry, I didn't mean to anger or hurt you" Minhyuk stepped towards his buddy, giving him a brief hug, before he left to get himself a strong drink at the bar.
If only Jooheon was brave enough to hold onto the rope you had caught him with, yes. If only the fight with his mind was that simple, yes. If only he hadn't already forfeited, yes…
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"You're dozing off, again" Jiwoo whispered from her seat facing you, her two eyes peeking at you over the thin panel between your two desks, and you blinked rapidly to bring yourself back to reality.
That poor, lonely, empty, reality you had been breathing in for three weeks now but that was suffocating you, as all the words you wished to tell him and all the ones you regretted having said were stuffed at the back of your throat.
So that was how it was supposed to feel, having bathed in the perfect world of soulmates only to drown in loneliness then harshly dry if it ever came to an end? You felt totally, inevitably, unbearably lifeless, your soul being trapped into the wonderful moment you had spent in his company but that you had a hard time labelling as a simple "good memory" now that everything was over. It was as if his lips on yours had taken all of your willpower to remain careful when it came to love, as you felt now tenfold worse than after your past breakups.
All of your usual imagination and enthusiasm had been swept away by your emotions that got the best of you, as Jooheon had stepped on the last thing that had implicitly kept you going with your life confidently after your previous heartbreaks : hope. You had hoped to find happiness in him, you had hoped that his smiles at you, his wish for you to stay, his sweet and deep kiss in the morning, his hands lingering around your frame as you had told him you had to go, his messages popping up on your screen afterwards, were the signs that you may have found some arms to engulf you ; but he had proven you wrong with his change of mind, or maybe, to your despair, his change of heart.
Once again, the power of feelings hadn't been enough for you to keep him by your side, for him to come to you fearlessly, for the both of you to enjoy the ride and see where it would take you, blindly. And because the law was a witch that had casted an awful spell on you, you got to experience the weighing sensation of melancholy as you couldn't help but think of him.
A raindrop would make you think of him, as the shape of his mouth made it seem as if he had a small one always hanging from his lower lip. The sound of a car passing by, as it reminded you of the numerous taxis you had tried to stop before you had decided to take yourselves home by feet. The dimples of one of your colleagues, as his were the cutest you had ever seen. The scent of beer or dumplings, as it was the first – and last – late night snack you had shared with him. The orange and red lights at a stop, as the strands of his hair were tinted between those very two colors.
Anything in your daily sight of banalities managed to link itself to a memory of Lee Jooheon, and every time, it was another sigh leaving your mouth. Funnily though, it somehow helped you to understand how hard it could be for him to move on from his ex and let his heart beat for anyone but her, as for now, you felt like you couldn't give yours to anyone but him, and that until a long long time.
He was your ideal type of man, and unfortunately, he had also made your heart flutter. He matched your dreams and the reality of your feelings, and it hurt, pretty badly. The bittersweet taste of what you barely could call a relationship dried your mouth that only craved for his to grace it all over again with sweet kisses and caresses of his tongue inside of its walls.
"Stop checking your messages" Jiwoo guessed as she spotted how your eyes were lingering down on something on your desk, and you almost whined as your lips formed a pout.
"Remember what the cards told me last week? That he probably would text me…" you retorted shamelessly.
"This application is bullshit and you know it, and it told you that he might think of sending you something, not that he would actually do it in the end" your colleague countered in a sigh.
"You remember quite well for someone who's so sceptic about astrology and so on…" you chuckled and she tsk-ed at you.
"It was funny because we were drunk" she admitted with a shrug, before regaining a stern composure. "More seriously, Y/N, I'm sorry to tell you this but it's been three weeks already… I know he's your ideal, but it doesn't mean he's the absolute perfect man you need for real, y'know? Life goes on, and as you've always told me, true love always wins! I'm just sad to see you still like this!"
You addressed her a smile as you saw how hard she was trying to reason you, but the you who had been so reasonable those past months, was long gone and replaced by a desperate girl in need for a romantic-comedy-like unfolding to happen in her life. In the movies, he would actually send you the message ; he would have been thinking of you in his bed until late late night ; he would have realized that he…
That he liked you. If he ever did.
Your heavy eyelids that supported a lazy gaze fluttered tiredly as you turned your head to the window showcasing a lining of buildings warmed up by the setting sun that hadn't fought with any cloud during the day, as if it was laughing at your gloomy state.
"Yes I'll send it to you next morning" a sweet but clear voice caught your attention from the other side of the room, and your heart did a small jump as you shifted in your seat to catch a sight of Yoo Kihyun entering the open space with a phone stuck between his ear and his shoulder, and his eyes suddenly fell on you, his face then breaking into the most welcoming of smiles.
You adored him. He was a hard working senior who was straight in his shoes, never failing at his tasks, always ready to help, always giving his opinion in the subtlest of ways, always supporting your projects ; he was kind of your mentor at work, while Jiwoo was your right arm, and if usually meeting with him every day was pure happiness, now you couldn't help but get strangled by the hands of questions about Jooheon every time Kihyun would look at you or talk to you. He was the most vivid yet most embarrassing of remaining links between you and your ideal, and for three weeks you had had to bite your lip so that you wouldn't blurt your wonderings to him out of nowhere.
How was he doing? Had he talked about you? Had he forgotten about you? Were you crazy to hope and wait for anything to happen, deep down?
The after-effects of the spell were definitely chewing on the lucid part of your brain.
"Don't distance yourself from me because of Lee Jooheon" the cause of your stomach's knots to tighten at work quietly told you as you were waiting for your coffee to be spilled by the machine near the blocks of desks.
"W-What?" you stuttered, surprised by his so-on-point remark. "I-I'm not, I’m not Kihyun, what does make you say that? It's fine between us!"
The latter chuckled, his eyes disappearing as his mouth curled up, and you would've bet that he could cook some eggs on your two cheeks that were steaming from the mortification he had put you in.
"You know you can talk to me about it, if you need to… I can see that it's been running on your mind" he offered in a soothing tone, and you both went to sit on the comfortable sofas located in what was supposed to be the rest area. "But please, don't be embarrassed with me!"
"How can I not be? He's your friend before anything else, and you are the first spectator of how ridiculous I'm being nowadays… I don't want to put you into a tricky position. It was one night, and it's over" you convinced yourself before sipping on your hot energizing drink, and Kihyun landed his face in the palm of his left hand, a fond smile spreading on his traits just for you to see.
"You're not as convincing when you talk about yourself as when you're selling our projects" he joked, and you faked a kick in his legs extended before yours. "You don't have to try to look all strong in front of me Y/N, I'm actually dating my own ideal and I know how devastating it feels if they ever turn away from you."
There was a glimpse of sadness in his eyes you had never seen before as Kihyun was either smiling, either completely unreadable at work, his face expressions only shifting from concentrated traits to joyful ones when he heard good news. But sadness? Never had you ever spotted him break in front of you in the few months you had spent together, and God knew how late you had stayed together in the building to finish your work, how drunk you had both been, how tired the job could make you.
"You weren't hers, as well?" you questioned before you could think of how intrusive this could sound.
"I am, but we took a break for a few months because the emotions and sensations were… Too much for her and for me to handle. We were quite passionate from the very beginning, so much that it could have torn us apart" he explained.
You nodded understandingly, your fingernails tapping an unknown beat on the small plastic cup in your cold hands.
"Now everything's fine, but just so you know that I've been through it, dreading the ideal one, so I get how you feel" he added, insisting on the last word with his eyes looking at you intently, as if they were also bearing the weight of it.
"Well at least you stopped dreading her because you were meant to be together anyway! Jooheon and I aren't as lucky, I just hope it won't take too long for me to move on" you smiled enviously at him before coating your lips with some hot coffee to mask how quickly the corners of your mouth had fallen down.
"You know, what's funny…" Kihyun trailed, passing his hand through his thick mop of brown hair that was graciously welcoming the last rays of sun seeping through the bay windows.
He bit back a chuckle when he caught how your eyes lightened up at the suspense he had voluntarily seamed between the both of you, finding you cute, and confirming his already steady opinion : Jooheon and you would be perfect together, if only…
"What's funny, is that Jooheon is supposed to be my friend first, so I should support him and respect his choices, but this time, I'm definitely on your side" he confessed, his eyes turning into crescents as his mouth supported a warm smile once more.
"Oh yes? And why's that?" you asked him with a dubitative expression as you leaned back into the comfy chair. "Glad to learn that you and I are not friends though…"
Kihyun's phone suddenly rang, and he held the screen towards you so that you could read the name of one of your collaborators, actually being the one you were going to work with on the next event.
"They have your personal number? Woooow you're so chic" you whispered with a faked astonished expression as he stood up quickly, chuckling at your remark.
"Let's talk about it around drinks tonight, I feel like going to the bar instead of finishing what I have to do" he smiled before exiting the relaxing room in pressed strides, and you could hear him getting back to his work-tone as he seriously said "Yes sir it's me, Yoo Kihyun".
Little did you know he was literally going to replace his blood by alcohol once night had fallen, and that you would follow him with just a few drinks late.
*
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*
You were sitting at your favorite bar, that was located only three blocks away from your workplace. All of your team could never get enough of its cozy ambiance, with the dangling little garlands and lanterns hanging from the ceiling, the numerous tropical plants placed between the row of tables, and the exotic landscapes sketches or Maya-like sculptures fixed on the wooden walls, giving the overall feeling of having found shelter in the middle of a sublime jungle.
It had started as another classical end of day, Kihyun and you enjoying some delicious appetizers and tricky cocktails that were as tasty as threatening for your sanity, all the while talking about futile things and sharing funny stories. However, sooner than you would have imagined, you weren't clinking your half-empty glass with your favorite partner when you agreed on things anymore, because it had been already ten minutes since he was ranting about life and love with a jaded expression on his sharp traits.
He wasn't even looking at you, his lost eyes fixed on a wooden stick which used to support candies he had now planted in the glass in front of him, and he turned it again and again into the rest of his drink mixed with water from the cooling ice cubes.
"You know, when you date your ideal, you almost forget how it actually feels to love at first. I swear, the sensations you get almost turn into a drug, something you can never get enough of! You immediately love the person without even knowing him or her, and you're in such a bliss, in such an awe, that you can't even distinguish what your real emotions are anymore. It took me a break with my girlfriend to look back on what I feel, what I love in her, and to miss her but because my heart felt empty, not my entire self."
He sighed loudly before taking a sip from his striped straw, and seeing how he frowned and tilted his head, you knew he had more to say, which was so unlike him. It seemed as if your own situation with Jooheon affected him as well ; as if it had opened the doors to some secret yet deep thoughts that had been bugging his mind.
"When you're in a one-sided situation like yours, I feel like there's a lot to it. I think that it's also a perfect combination in its own way, because there's the power of soulmates, facing the one of true feelings. Two paths come across and merge into one : the one of the heart, and the one of fate, this is complementary" he then explained as his digits lightly traced the two lines in the palm of his left hand, and strangely, his words seemed to have cooled down the atmosphere around you as you felt chills run down your skin all of a sudden.
"I used to agree with you and believe in love more than in the soulmate-thing, but… You can't deny that nothing can beat the perfection of the romance between two individuals that were both bond by fate. It means they're made for each other, it's beautiful" you inquired, and unlike you whose heart now felt heavy in your itchy chest, Kihyun looked like he relaxed in his chair as it was his turn to speak again.
"But what sticks two soulmates together is also love, just like any other couple. What we actually feel might be stronger, but not purer. If I didn't love my girlfriend and if she didn't love me, our short break would have resulted in a break-up, for sure. That's the part of reality in this world of dreams and expectations. I wish Jooheon would understand that…" he breathed out as his gaze finally landed on you, an exasperated expression veiling his white face.
"Oh no, don't tell me he's back at it again" a rather high-toned voice spoke from behind you and your colleague's reddening cheeks spread into a contented smile, so you turned around in your seat to be met with five familiar figures, their sight making your heart drop down to your heels.
Before you had even recovered from the tornado of emotions this situation was putting you through, the boys you couldn't help but label as "Jooheon's friends" dragged some more chairs and tables to join Kihyun and you. To each beat of your weakened heart, one thought kept on ringing in your mind : every single boy sitting next to you, in front of you, across from you, knew Lee Jooheon better than you did even though the law made you feel otherwise. But what was harder to process, was they surely were aware of the things that had happened between the both of you, making you rot in embarrassment.
"What, what, what? I'm back at what, huh? You know you all agree, Jooheon doesn't realize how lucky he is! What he trusted in is right in front of our eyes, Y/N, who aspires to believe in love more than anything! He's not her ideal for nothing, it's because they would be perfect together, am I wrong?"
You swore that the weight of awkwardness and how the atmosphere had thickened were crushing you in your wooden chair, and all you did was agitating your head from the left to the right repeatedly while shooting him a pleading look so that he would stop playing the justiciary.
"Hey, you're lucky too you punk! Sorry Y/N, he tends to turn really sentimental once he's drunk… Anyway, we're here to save you from hell" the one you remembered as being named Hoseok smiled kindly at you, however it didn't chase your wish to disappear away.
"What are you saying, you're here because I texted you to come" Kihyun snorted with a sulky face.
He hadn't asked for your advice or assent before taking this questionable initiative, but you had noted from the mischievous smile he had sported on the way earlier that he had been exceptionally excited to go out, making you wonder if he had been up to something.
And he clearly had.
"I thought it would be nice for you to hang with some new people, to clear your mind a little" he then addressed you, and every single one of you – except for him– rolled your eyes at his stupid idea.
Clear your mind? While being surrounded by six faces that only reminded you of the one that was missing? Seriously?
What a nice idea he had had, bringing another set of pieces to the puzzle picturing Jooheon in your dizzy head, bringing dozens of questions burning the tip of your tongue, bringing discomfort as you were hanging with an important part of his life when he had chased you out of it.
"I texted the sad boy too, so that he realizes what he's missing, I can't leave him alone being all dumb like that" Kihyun then proudly announced, and you darted two big round eyes at him, your heart beating faster than it had since the night you had spent with the very sad boy he was talking about, as for three weeks it had been unmoved.
"ARE YOU CRAZY?!" you shouted along with the rest of the boys, your pupils then exchanging panicked-angry-incredulous glances.
"I'm leaving" you then precipitated yourself, your suddenly trembling hands gathering your things on the table and putting them back into your leather bag.
"Yoo Kihyun seriously what's wrong with you…" the tall one, Hyungwon, pestered him with a clenched jaw as he looked at you who were ready to stand all at once.
"He will be here in less than a minute, just stay and trust me Y/N, please" Kihyun begged and it triggered you.
"Why would you do that? It's just embarrassing for the both of us! I am respecting his decision, and so should you! Thank you for worrying about me, but don't interfere anymore, please!" your tone would have gotten close to the one of yelling, hadn't it been for your voice cracking as it was the prey of your fear to meet Jooheon's eyes again, to read discomfort and resent in them instead of the memory of their tenderness you cherished.
Just as you were about to finally get up, having put your fluffy puffer coat on as well as your beanie to confront the icy weather, the peal of small bells signaling the opening of the main door resounded over the music and the boys' voices telling you how sorry they were ; and you knew. You knew it was him who had just entered, because your body automatically reacted the second you dared to throw a look over your shoulder quickly, your eyes only perceiving a reddish mop of hair and a bright yellow padded jacket. Your hand was scorching and shining around the handle of your bag, and you cursed under your breath at the pain and at Kihyun who bit back a smile of victory.
He really could become sly and clueless at the same time once he was drunk, how come you had forgotten about that?
"Y/N, wait-" the latter tried to hold you back as you pushed your chair that screeched against the ground, but you walked past the table, your hurried strides supported by your trembling legs taking you towards some other exit at the opposite side of the room.
Your heavy heart had turned light, floating under your chest as a feather would do in some spring breeze, however the two drinks you had consumed and the trap your friend had pushed you right in made you overall feel sick, your stomach burning. Some fresh air was even more welcomed, yet you hadn't even taken that much steps when the most pleasant voice you would ever hear infiltered your buzzing eardrums :
"Y/N" Jooheon called you out calmly, and your feet immediately stumbled as you came to a full stop.
Shit.
You didn't want to look at him, you didn't want to see his face again, you didn't want to feel yourself sucked into the hole of sweltering feelings for him once more now that you had told yourself that your dreams wouldn't come true ; however you did, slowly turning on your heels, and you inevitably got consumed by the flames of whatever his presence did to you.
He looked utterly handsome even though he was doing nothing, just standing there and breathing. His hair was down, falling messily on his forehead, with a few strands kissing his eyelids ; still, it didn't occult the power his pupils could hold. His sharp eyes never failed to get the best of you, absorbing your willpower to leave and pinning your two feet to the ground, as contrary to what you had dreaded, there wasn't anything near embarrassment shining in them. They were simply gazing at you, two black orbs full of stars hooked on his sculpted-like face, and they didn't quaver when they met your unsure, humid ones.
"Let's talk outside for a minute" he invited out of the blue, and you blinked obliviously but your head nodded independently of your command.
You then waited for him to move closer behind you before exiting the bar, without saying a word, your throat strained and your mouth itching with the desire of kissing him right here, right now. Once you had landed a few steps outside, it took you a lot of courage to turn around again and face the cause of your happiness and sorrow, the sweet-and-sour mixture twisting your stomach where butterflies still were doing their usual job of messing with you.
"Hi" you tried with a small smile, shoving your hands inside your pockets so that you wouldn't lose your fingers.
Jooheon wished the fog that came out of his mouth as he breathed out had conveyed all of his messy thoughts to you, so that you could feel how torn you had left him for three weeks, so that you would help him sort things out, so that you would absorb them just like you had that Friday night, as he didn't even know what he was supposed to say to you right now ; he had just wished to see your face, selfishly, even if it was only for a short and bittersweet moment.
"How have you been doing?" he then asked randomly, the words falling from his plump lips he then bit in regret.
Your world was spinning twice faster now that it was revolving around Jooheon as its center of gravity again ; you could only see and hear him, your senses all gathered to focus on his person. Nevertheless, if three weeks ago the enchantment casted upon you had made you feel happy, this time, your encounter was crackling further your heart he had closed his doors to.
"Fine, and you?" you lied, so bad, yet you didn't want him to feel worse than you knew he already was, as even if you were distraught because you had failed in a relationship once more, you couldn't ignore the fact that Jooheon was suffering from his disappointment more than anything.
Your heart understood him through its aching, reason why your voice's tone had been sweet despite you, warming Jooheon's own bloody organ in the matter of a millisecond, warmth that spread inside his limbs and made him insensitive to the actual freezing weather. Some snowflakes had started to fall and were finding home in the free strands of your hair, and his burning left hand was weirdly craving to caress the white gown they were creating over your head until it'd disappear.
"Pretty fine too" his low voice vibrated through his chest, and another cloud of steam formed between your two faces, giving you the time to collect your expression so that he wouldn't notice how flustered you were.
"Anything you wished to tell me? Or else I'll get going I have a bus to catch in… 10 minutes" you insinuated that he had called you out for something precisely, and when his eyes fell down to the snowy pavement, you crumpled the insides of your pockets as the longer he was standing in front of you, the harder it was to fight the urge to assault him with questions and… Kisses?
The silence was weighty, and when Jooheon's pupils leveled up to yours once again, he noticed the thin line of water that was forming at the crease of your eyelids, killing him on the spot. Just like her, the sight of him was making you sad and uneasy, and he hated himself for that. Still what he despised more, was that he was putting you through the same thing that had eaten him alive the past months. He wished you had never met him and had simply fallen in love with some random guy, not being helplessly attracted to him because of a stupid law.
"I wanted to apologize on behalf of my friends, I can see you were quite embarrassed… They truly can be dumbasses sometimes, so sorry" he found the excuse on the spot, his improvisation impressing himself.
"Oh it's okay, they already apologized. It was Kihyun, he thought he was… Doing something good, I guess? He just doesn't get our situation" you brushed off as your brows had furrowed due to his surprising revelation.
"And I guess I wanted to check if you were okay" he suddenly admitted in a low yet steady tone that shook you to the core.
"Well you must know how it is, you've been through it" you sounded harsher than wanted, however, you couldn't blame your inner self for getting more and more sensitive while facing him.
You were right. Jooheon was more of a punition to you than anything else ; he knew it because he had lived in this empty feeling up 'til now. But couldn't he try to make you feel any better?
"Look, I'll take that as an opportunity to tell you face to face that I truly am sorry for what I did to you so… Yeah I'm sorry Y/N. I really wish you'll find someone good for you, you deserve it-"
"Jooheon, I told you I got you" you cut him, and the whisper of his name coming out of your freezing lips tranquilized its owner instantly. "Don't misunderstand what Kihyun just planned, I wasn't aware that you were coming either. I'm sorry but… Hearing you apologize and inducing that everything's over another time… Makes it kind of weird, I'm embarrassed right now."
You had become upset, as you had felt some kind of disappointment fall over you all of a sudden. Upset for having expected something to change with the time passing by ; for having felt the spark of excitement replacing your anger towards your colleague as soon as Jooheon had called your name ; for receiving his words like a good slap all over again when you had been supposed to let go and accept the reality of rejection three weeks ago already. Why did you keep on hoping?
You could already hear Jiwoo's voice scolding you with an "I told you!".
"Oh- I'm-"
"Don't" you smiled sadly. "Remember when she said sorry to you, did it make you feel any better?"
Jooheon's face contorted in displeasure and regret, and he passed a tensed left hand through his fluid hair, the locks enlightened by his shimmering red scar caressing them, and he cursed himself with thousands of insults inside his head. What had he been thinking?
"Someone told me that if your ideal leaves you, it means that you're not good for anyone else. So hearing you wishing me to find someone else… Kind of reminds me of this" you chuckled while looking away.
"Shit Y/N I'm so sor-… I didn't mean it that way, I just thought that apologizing to you face to face rather than behind a screen was at least more appropriate, because I know how it is to go through this so I was hoping to… Shit I don't know anymore" his words fell precipitately out of his mouth, and another wave of threatening tears accrued at the corner of your eyes.
"You don't have to feel guilty, okay? You should try to make yourself more comfortable with your choice, or else… Or else I'm gonna think that something's going on when there's not" you pursued with the same nervous laugh, your eyes dropping to your shoes as you nibbled at your lower lip. "So please… Don't worry, and don't be too harsh on yourself."
It had been as if you had read his inner emotions like they were scribbled on his face, finding what he couldn't point out in his mind then formulate, and soothing him with words to counter those insecurities. You never failed to find the right buttons to push at, and to his despair, you skimmed the one of his doubts, making his heart throb at the idea of taking risks that flashed through his mind.
"How come you're worrying about me when I'm the one who hurt you" he wondered aloud, before gasping as he heard his own voice that had betrayed him.
Because you cared for him. Because you could feel his pain now that he was near, your heart constricted under your ribcage the more you could read the guilt in his eyes that were begging for any sign of your forgiveness. Because apparently, the law left you no choice but to empathize with him no matter what he did, even if it included leaving you behind.
"I guess you know the answer since you experienced it too" you simply managed to answer before you would break into a sob. "I'll get going."
Something felt off in the way your exchange ended, Jooheon was even less at ease to part ways. He had apologized, to ensure that you would hear the sincerity of his excuses and to see you accept them ; but didn't it look like he had been looking for his inner peace rather than yours?
He could recognize himself in your reaction, as it had been the one he had adopted back when she had repeated the word "sorry" to him. However, he had been unable to hear the authenticity in her excuses as, just like you, all that remained was that you and him were being left behind no matter how guilty the one who was bidding goodbye felt.
But Jooheon didn't want you to experiment that loneliness, nor wanted the bright you to ostracize itself from everyday pleasures that would have brought a smile on your face before him ; so as your eyes were turning away from him as well as your figure, he spoke up :
"Why don't you stay?"
You faced him again and the unquavering look he conveyed to you made your heart jump up to your throat, yet ready to drop down at any second.
"What?"
"I said… Why don't you stay?" he reiterated, then gulped down his anticipation that had burned his rushed tongue.
You batted your eyelashes involuntarily as the incredulity galloped its way through your brain once you had processed his words.
"W-Why would I? Why would you want me to?"
"Because the guys are funny and nice, and because I liked it when we hanged together, it was cool" he simply stated, his brows going up on his forehead as he showcased a shrug.
"Is this a way for you to tell me we should be friends…?" you then asked ; however you weren't sure of how you would react if he ever came to say "yes".
"It is my way to tell you you shouldn't leave because of my stupid ass when you could spend a good evening with some dorks to make you laugh" he retorted.
His eyes were shining with expectation and maybe mischief, a cocktail that sparked some excitement in you and tickled your limbs to the point you almost returned him a warm smile as you could see how bad he was trying to make up for what he did – or thought he did – to you.
"At least you acknowledge the fact that you're stupid" you managed to joke, earning a shy chuckle from him. "Thanks but no, actually I'm pretty tired and I'm glad I escaped this situation with Kihyun because I would have had a short night, when tomorrow we need to finish some project…"
Jooheon's hand caressed his nape slowly as he nodded in understanding, and this time he was the one feeling the ache of disappointment when he probably shouldn't. Indeed, it was easier to let go behind a mobile phone's screen ; but now that this wall of fake-confidence wasn't there to help playing the cool ones, Jooheon felt like you could see how torn he was when you were supposed to believe that he was okay with his own decision.
"Alright…" his words trailed as well as his gaze on you, to the point you shivered as if you had been naked under the snow falling above your two dizzy heads.
You had found the courage to turn away a second time, when a last thought popped up in your mind, thought your tongue felt obliged to convey to him who had remained in his spot, watching you take a few steps away on the pavement.
"Oh and Jooheon" you spoke up with a small smile over your shoulder. "Just start practicing football again already. I saw you at the futsal on Kihyun's Instagram stories two days ago and you looked… Really happy. I think… That's actually the first step you need to take, y'know, to feel better with yourself, then maybe with life in general?"
These had been the only images and news you had had of him during the past three weeks, and you just had remembered how he had glowed with serenity and simple joy as he had been filmed kicking the ball with his friends. This was the Jooheon you wished for him to be, this was the bright version of him you thought deserved to be on full-time display, this was the self-love you wished he could give himself when you couldn't do it for him anymore.
"Thanks Y/N you're… Literally a good person like it's crazy."
But not good enough, once again, you thought.
"Comforting the guy who did you wrong and so on…" he breathed out.
You cared for him, so much that you hadn't been able to leave him on that awkward note, so much that your quavering heart felt at ease to see his lips draw a shy smile as he seemingly had been touched by your kind advice.
"Bye, then" you almost whispered to end up this conversation that could turn up to something too emotional in no time.
Another goodbye, less sour yet not that sweet as you both parted ways not as lovers, neither as friends, just as two hurt people who couldn't speak their hearts and minds up but only feel how confused they were. And if you were entangled invisibly to each other by the red string of fate, you still had to separate ways another time, and you finally turned your back on him. It was as if you were walking against the current, your whole soul pulled back to him who was looking at that beautiful silhouette he should let go of without regrets, his umpteenth sigh still not conveying his doubts to you.
*
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*  
Kihyun was looking at you from the corner of his half-closed eyes, and you were hesitating between smashing his head or simply laugh at his evidently dull state.
"I-I'm sorry…" he finally blurted out in a hushed voice, and the chuckle that had lurked deep inside your throat escaped despite you.
"About what? Your conspiracy that got me cornered and facing your friend in an embarrassing way, or the fact that you're a zombie on the day when you're supposed to be helping our team by being productive?"
You were waiting with your back against the wall in front of the meeting room, your files safely guarded under your crossed arms that covered your chest trembling due to stress. Your mind had to be at its best condition all day long so that at the end of this brainstorming, your Project manager would be satisfied and no more worried about one of the next huge events you had been offered to organize.
"I guess both, I messed up pretty badly…" Kihyun regretted as he pinched his nose bridge and you couldn't prevent your eyes from rolling up before they dropped on his pale figure.
"Oh yes you did, you moron" you sighed. "I hope your performing brain will help us as usual, or else if I die by the hands of the manager, you're dying with me."
Your team partner laughed tiredly before nodding, his briefcase held tight in his hand that was shivering as well, because of the little night he had spent and the anticipation getting on his nerves. While New Year's Eve was right around the corner, your team had already been picturing itself in the next decade. You had been assigned to draft an event destined to celebrate the merge of two small but successful companies – a Korean and a Chinese one. They had contacted you so you'd make them dream in the early spring of 2020, and the burden was real as the more time passed by, the more you were building a reputation, and the less you could allow yourselves to do any mistake.
The few instructions you had been given were that the clients were seeking for something fancy enough, and that they wished to invite all their employees so that they could get to know each other and learn to work together on good terms for the future. And those exact good terms, mainly depended on the successful night you would offer them as well as the few sponsors and investors who had been put on the guest list, so that they would never be able to forget about it but mostly be convinced to stick to a firm that treated them well.
Thankfully for you – and hungover Kihyun –, the meeting went well as you had been more prepared than you thought you would be in the midst of the confusion that plagued over your brain. So prepared, that the third idea you had come up with of renting a boat earned the votes and the trust of your Project Manager who complimented you on this plan you had worked hard on ever since the end of the National Federation of Football's party.
You finally looked back on how you had devoted yourself to work in order to forget about your heartache, and thanked your determined spirit as it had definitely paid off. This event truly had been your loophole to escape, only for a few hours within a day though, from your sickening thoughts about your love life.
"Oh right, about the staff we will need on the boat, I heard from the Korean firm that they have special recommendations they want to discuss with us about before we actually call our partners" Himchan informed you. "There are some people they worked with for previous events and who they trust so they'd like to have them on that night as well.
*
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Three months-and-a-bit later.
 You should have taken a closer look at the pile of folders containing the-said wanted workers your project manager had then handed to you that morning instead of leaving it on your desk to welcome some dust, because you would have been less appalled on the D-Day, as you were about to face your big clients.
Kihyun, Jiwoo and you quietly sat in the largest and fanciest of rooms in your building, organizing your ideas and files before the grand meeting. Like every single time even if you should have gotten used to it, your heart was ravaging your ribcage with great kicks of its own, and you felt hot as if you were in August under the sun of Madrid, and not in mid-March. Finally, the main door opened and Himchan entered with a reassuring smile pulling his traits, shortly followed by the two communication managers of the companies as well as their respective secretaries, a young woman and man.
You had exchanged a lot of e-mails and phone calls with the assistants during the past weeks, so you could say that you were pretty excited to finally get to talk to them without the barrier of a digital screen. The girl had been full of energy and had always asked if you needed help, reminding you of yourself in a way, while the male secretary had been quite formal but you had perceived a real kindness between the lines.
Yet, as soon as your eyes met the ones of the latter who translated the Chinese greeting of his chief for your knowledge, your left palm was set on fire, with the famous pleasuring pain that itched your skin and illuminated your… Heart-line.
You gave him a shy smile as you guessed he felt it too, the situation quite embarrassing when you were meeting at your workplace with all the eyes to see and a huge deal to conclude, however you observed with excitement the quick changing of expression on his face, his pupils suddenly darkening and pinning you to your chair, his lips parting slightly before he bit the lower one for a short moment, and his cheeks and ears reddening in no time.
Don't tell me…
He finally greeted you with a polite bow before taking place in the seat exactly facing yours, and you could read in his rushed attitude that he was flustered. While your team manager was delivering his speech, the guy started translating in real-time, mumbling the words while bending closely to his boss, who nodded and smiled as he progressively understood he was welcomed and thanked for having put his trust in your company.
You used his busy state as an opportunity to have a longer look at the figure of a new compatible man with you, and you could say you were quite flattered as the first word that came to mind to describe him was-
"Handsome. He's freaking handsome. You've been mailing this handsome guy, wow, your luck is real Y/N" Jiwoo whispered to your attention, quietly enough so you'd be the only one to hear that cringy remark and you nodded absent-mindedly, a smirk making its way to the corners of your mouth.
That handsome man was compatible with you, how lucky you were, indeed. He had chestnut blonde hair, slicked back and parted neatly with probably some wax, and his facial features were dangerously close to perfect. An angular nose, almond shaped eyes, thick and straight eyebrows, a peachy appealing mouth which covered an aligned dentition he finally showcased as he beamed at you once he had worded his name :
"Good morning, my name is Qian Jie, nice to meet you all."
"And I'm Jeon Jiwoo" your colleague pressed while passing a hand in her hair, and you had to sew your lips so that you wouldn't cackle before her childish behavior.
"I'm Y/L/N Y/N, nice to finally meet you too."
His eyes fell on your face once again and you were sure this time he was blushing, either because his grey turtleneck under his dark anthracite costume was too hot now that he wasn't braving the wind outside ; either because, just like you a month ago, he was staring at…
His ideal.
It was your turn to blush at this absurd idea and you shook your head from the left to the right to reason yourself ; the world was little, but this just couldn't be.
"I'm Jang Sora, I'm glad to meet you all as well, and to see you again, Kihyun" a feminine voice resounded in your ears and you finally paid attention to the woman secretary who was smiling at you then at your colleague who suddenly looked flustered.
"I'd never imagined we'd meet again under these circumstances" Kihyun nodded.
"You two know each other?" your manager asked enthusiastically.
The dark-haired girl chuckled, eyes with a single eyelid shining as if they had taken a ray of sun outside to illuminate them in a light brown, then she spoke up again :
"Yes, we happened to hang together a while ago, friends of friends!"
Kihyun was hanging his head low, and you could decipher how he forced a smile as he obviously was swimming under a sea of discomfort. Who was she to put the unwavering Yoo Kihyun in such a state? She definitely looked charismatic, young but surely experimented, just like what she had showed you through mails and voice calls as she started leading the discussion by relaying accurate and precise questions while her chief only came in to speak in the name of his own boss : what he liked, disliked, wanted, feared. They embodied a powerful business duet that got you talking to them with precautions and staying on your toes to be sure you were convincing enough and show them you hadn't been idle all this time.
On the other hand, your compatible match was still translating everything, would it be what you said or what his manager said, but what disturbed you more than his handsomeness and your burning hand was the fact that he kept on kissing your silhouette with his eyes. The few times you dared to support his gaze, you came across an unreadable expression, between warm and intense, something that gave you the chills as you were thrilled to be the one receiving such attention in a long time.
"About the workers, we sent you their profiles, did you receive them?" Sora asked while combing her bangs with a quick hand move, and you took the pile in your hands with a smile.
"They're right here, but we haven't contacted them yet as we wanted to confirm the place with you above all! Is there any priority between them, so that we know who to call first?" you looked her in the eyes and she nodded vigorously, accepting the files you slid on the table to her side.
"Let's see… Yes, there's those three, and… this one. They've worked with us for a few events and were well appreciated, we would like it if they were to be here again. They knew our directors' preferences in each area so they might be useful to you and the other staff you'd hire!"
Out of seven recommendations, she pushed four of them back to you fully opened, and when your eyes caught the sight of a familiar ID photography as if it was the only thing filling the white page resuming the professional experience, you almost gasped.
Lee Jooheon.
With a solemn face and short black hair, the boy of your dreams was watching you from his laid-down position, his sharp eyes, as diminished as they were in the small picture, still catching your breath and provoking exhilarating sensations in your body. The attention of your teammates diverted towards you as quickly as a finger snap, and you did your best to bottle your flustered state deep down in your twisted stomach as you had to remain professional and not let your personal matters mingle with your work ones. You couldn't object even if you wanted to ; but it burned your tongue and made your ears ring as the same thought kept banging in your head : Why? How? Why? How? WHY?
Somehow, you heard Kihyun shifting in his chair before the opened file of your ideal disappeared in his hands, and when you leveled up your pupils, you could read in the look Sora was giving your colleague that she particularly cared for this candidate.
"I'll contact this one" he informed as he lowered the papers for his eyes to shoot question marks at his interlocutor, who nodded in consideration.
_______
You knew the world was small, as in this very room, had been sitting a man compatible with you when he should have been just a business partner.
However, you didn't know yours would keep on spinning around Lee Jooheon for so long after that last encounter at the bar three months ago, or else you would have prepared yourself for this kind of coincidence to happen anytime. Or else, this situation wouldn't have felt as if Sora had taken a knife and rammed it over your wound all over again. Or else, you wouldn't have been that devastated right after the end of the meeting, completely forgetting about Jie as you were pacing round and round in the rest area, for Kihyun to watch.
Because while everyone in the room had been sharing his or her advice until they were satisfied with the terms of the negotiations, your mind had been half occupied by the task of making the link the between the care in Sora's eyes, the discomfort between her and your colleague, and the re-apparition of your soulmate. And the conclusion you had come to find was…
"That's her, right?" you barked at Kihyun who jolted in surprise at your little burst out. "That's his ex!"
"Lower your voice, they're still here!" he warned you. "And yes, she is" he then shrugged.
"You saw her name in the contracts, right? Why didn't you tell me?! This is so embarrassing!" you ruffled your hair and threw an accusing look at him.
How come the law, or maybe life in general, were so determined to mess up with you? Did they wish to see the vise tighten itself around you to the point it would feel like you definitely couldn't escape from this? Were you between the hands of a sadist pulling at the strings that would ridicule you the most?
"So what if she's his ex? What does it change? You would have refused to take part in the project? We are working here!" your colleague and friend answered, his tone inducing that he was a bit annoyed.
Yet, he marked a point and you grumbled in defeat, his face now showing he was completely unphased by your anger – angering you even more.
"This is so embarrassing Kihyun, I don't know where to hide myself right now" you then moaned while rubbing your blushing face with your panicked hands.
"Because you don't have to hide! I repeat : what if she's his ex?" Kihyun emphasized, less and less sure that he could follow your train of thoughts.
"What are you going to do with him?" you ignored his question because, well, you didn't have an answer to it.
The sigh that left his thin lips was so displeasing to hear.
"I'm gonna call him and propose him the offer, just like I am supposed to do" he explained in a calm tone, hoping it would help you to calm down too.
Your eyes came across his and even more than his sigh, his stern expression wasn't to your liking, at all. First his trap at the bar, now this secret information that could have helped you digest the whole thing better ; he might be the one wanting you to have a heart attack, in the end.
Your new year's resolution had been to move on from Lee Jooheon and to stop considering love as a priority for a while, and you had been doing quite fine up 'til now. Why? Because you hadn't seen his face ever since that night on the sidewalk, or more exactly, you had avoided it or anything that could remind you of him like some kind of bacteria. Posts of Kihyun on social medias? Muted, as well as his voice when he made the mistake to pronounce his name – one killing stare and that was it. The club he worked at? Banned from your options to have a funny night. The TV corner talking about football and his great return? You knew exactly its time slot depending on the day now. And positive thoughts? Always welcomed, as well as the flirting with some guys on dating apps or at your friends' parties. He had been doing well without you in the meantime, retrieving his old life, so why shouldn't you?
"Stop looking at me like that" you hissed through gritted teeth, wishing to smack Kihyun's confident expression out of his face.
"Like what? Like I'm hearing some bullshit coming out of your mouth? Sorry but that's actually the case so I can't help it" he then smiled cockily, and strangely enough, your cheeks tickled as he made you want to laugh at yourself as well.
You knew you were overreacting, but you couldn't help it. Why did it suddenly feel like the carefree attitude you had adopted was as fragile as a house of cards, ready to get whisked away by what you only saw as a storm coming right at you?
If every single effort you had put in forgetting about Lee Jooheon had paid off, then why were you panicking? The thought that maybe you had been more of an impostor than you'd like to admit was turning your blood cold.
"You're going to hide it from him too? And the fact that she actually recommended him?" you asked your partner while regaining your composure.
"So that's what's actually bugging you, I see…" Kihyun nodded, the smirk still present on his pale face.
"Of course it is!" your lingering care for him spoke for itself. "It means she's still interested in him, and if they meet again… If they meet again…"
You didn't want to imagine it. As much as you certainly didn't wish to see him at all, you needed even less to witness him shattering in front of his ex when she had already turned him into a mess. Or worse, to watch their romance bloom all over again if you ever had read her eyes rightly, and to feel uncomfortable, if not hurt.
"I don't want to see it, no thanks." you told yourself aloud, and to your surprise, Kihyun got what you meant with only those few words.
"You won't see it. You know why? Because the man she works for, the manager we saw earlier, is her ideal, and they're actually dating, she left Jooheon for this guy. She just has affection and surely pity for him. I'm sure she wants to see him again just to be sure he's doing fine because she cares about him in a way."
"Then did you think of him? Did you think of how hurt he'd be to see them together?" you pointed out his negligence that seemed to keep on revealing itself ever since his questionable choice back at the bar.
Kihyun chuckled at your worries and crossed his arms, looking at you tenderly this time.
"You sound pretty concerned for someone who's proclaimed herself as, I quote, "careless about boys" just a few days ago for the umpteenth time..."
"I-I'm just empathic, unlike you it seems" you scoffed with a shrug.
"I am always thinking of my brothers first. And what I am thinking nowadays about him, is that you resolve trauma by trauma. Trust me, Y/N, I was wrong at the bar last time, but right now, I know what I'm doing."
Every single pore of his skin, every single inch of his posture were screaming that he actually did know what he was doing, his confidence emanating from him like a glowing and powerful aura, so much that it chased the cloud of panic you had been struggling in away.
"You always have the last word, huh?" you sighed before it faded into a smile.
"That's why we always conclude contracts, I'm the best at convincing. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make…" he crooned as he walked away with Jooheon's number and nickname displaying on his phone's screen, and you caressed your flushed cheeks before sighing again, the anticipation pressuring your lungs.
Suddenly – but not so surprisingly…– you wished to meet him again. Your shell had indeed been made of glass, as your inner voice was already whining that you wanted him to be there on that night. And bitterly, you realized that you had moved on, yes, but not far enough ; you had let go, yes, but not of everything.
You felt so upset to see that you had definitely been convincing yourself half-heartedly. But well, that colleague and supposedly friend of yours was definitely not helping.
"Y/N, you forgot your stuff in the room" Himchan informed you as he walked past the rest area, followed by the very ex and her actual boyfriend you bowed to.
You sprinted towards the meeting room, hoping it would be empty so that you could groan loudly once and for all to evacuate the weight of distress crashing your ribcage. She was so pretty, so well-mannered, so determined, so professional, so feminine, that it made you feel like a naked worm who just deserved to be left alone in the dirt, and nowhere near the blooming flower she was. You were no competition for her, and she was the perfection Jooheon deserved according to the law ; how come you had expected anything?
Some unwelcomed tears came to play with your eyelids, as if your body was laughing at you by trying to make you properly pitiful. Three months had gone by, but your stomach still twisted at the sight of his picture? REALLY?
"Excuse me, Miss Y/L/N?" a voice as soft as velvet smoothed your eardrums that had been buzzing for the last two minutes, and you looked back to thank with your eyes the one who had prevented you from becoming deaf and suffering from a harsh headache.
And that very person happened to be the one whose way of ending your sentences and picturing your ideas as if you had drawn them yourself in his mind had petrified you in the same meeting room earlier, and now just his gaze did in the corridor as he smiled broadly before approaching your shaken figure.
Jie truly was handsome and beyond chic, making him intimidating but not in a negative way, just one that made you respect and admire him without even knowing him inside-out. He could be compared to the handsome main character in a manga before whom the girl – and the reader as well – was losing the strength in her limbs.
"I wished to ask you earlier but you disappeared quite quickly… Would you like to meet tomorrow night for a team gathering, with your colleagues? We've been working together for a while now but we haven't been able to talk properly without a working context, I thought it would be nice for our teams to get to know each other in a friendly manner" he offered, to your great surprise.
The idea was not so bad, and you knew that when it came to going out for a drink, your teammates were always the first ones to respond positively.
"Oh yes, that's a great initiative! Thanks for proposing!" you smiled, and realized that you felt more at ease ever since he was facing you, as if the air around you was fresh and clean, not thick and overpowering.
He seemed to relax as he heard your answer, then he took in a sharp breath before asking :
"Then… Can I have your personal number? I only have the one from your office… So that I can tell you the time and address?"
Bold move. Had he been anyone else, you would have not seen anything else than a professional and nice proposition ; however, something in your guts was telling you there was more to it. From the way his eyes were always so dark and sparkly when they crossed your stare, from the way he smiled confidently but his cheeks were flushed, from the way he had dared to stand so close to you… You could recognize your own flirty behavior from the night at the club when you had met Jooheon, and as scared as you were to admit it, you were 97% sure that you were his ideal one.
The question was : was it fate that you had crossed paths? And if yes, should you give it a try? This man had no choice but to like you and wish to stay by your side, or at least the chances were slimmer for him to leave like every man before him had, however… However, why did you feel like you were cheating on Jooheon as you grasped his phone between your shy fingers to type your number, when the guy was supposed to be nothing but a souvenir you should free yourself of?
Jie happily took the device back and shoved it into his blazer's pocket, and after one last long glance at your traits, he left to look for his boss. Unbeknownst to you who had still read the other signs, his heart was pounding under his chest and his head was busy thinking of you until the next day when you were about to meet again.
*
**
***
**
Qian Jie [11:15 a.m.] : Hello Y/N, this is Jie. I hope you had a great morning. I'm texting you to send the address and time as agreed. Here is the map with the location. Let's say we should meet at 8.30 p.m., is that okay with you? 😊
You were the last one to show up at the fancy dining bar, which was already full of university students, co-workers, friends on a hangout or even loners, all sitting around barbecue plates grilling fresh meat and vegetables. The scent of alcohol and food stimulated your buds and your mouth watered as you wandered between the tables, looking for familiar faces.
And the familiar face you finally spotted was the one of a blonde man smiling while grilling some piece of what you guessed was beef, and as if he had sensed you coming, Jie immediately leveled up his eyes to meet yours. Your left hand heated up in no time, but less than your cheeks as you could clearly read in his stare that he was finding you… Pretty. His pupils scanned your silhouette quickly from head to toes, before he came right back at your face and his cheekbones reddened a bit as he finally gave you the biggest of smiles.
He pressed himself to move his things that had been displayed on the seat next to him, and he then silently motioned you to come and take the place he had just arranged. Had he done it on purpose? Probably. Did you find it cute? Maybe. Noticing his agitated and excited state, everyone at the table finally turned around or stopped looking at their phones to acknowledge you, and your colleagues all exclaimed :
"Y/N! Finally!"
"What took you so long?" Jiwoo, who was sitting at the far end of the table – and consequently at the opposite of the seat you were supposed to take at Jie's side – asked you with a sly smile, as during the day, you had finally confessed to her who you thought that handsome man was to you, or more accurately, who you were to him.
You had been quite embarrassed to tell her as you knew she had found him pretty attractive, but Jiwoo never ceased to surprise you with her cheerful state which never betrayed an ounce of jealousy. Surprised you as well, because if she was then sitting far away from Jie, she seemed to have found another target in the teammates from Sora's company. Indeed, each secretary had brought their coworkers responsible of the communication about the event or supposed to help you, your group then occupying at least three tables.
What had taken you so long, had been firstly the tasks you had wished to finish before leaving the building, and also your hard time choosing your outfit. In a way, you had wished to look pretty, but it wasn't exactly because of Jie's presence ; it was more because you were utterly conscious of Sora's. You had dreaded all day long to meet her – and her boyfriend – again, as you felt intimidated and embarrassed to be working with Jooheon's ex. That very ex whom he couldn't get over, and who, in a way, had deprived you of a relationship you had been dreaming of for so long.
You had then opted for a corduroy camel dress with large straps, wore over an oversized shirt, as well as comfortable boots and your favorite jacket. You considered you were right at the middle between casual and feminine ; at least, you felt pretty enough to finally take a seat next to Jie whose masculine yet fresh cologne hit you more than the smell of meat.
"Forgive me, I had to finish up a few things, the company's closed for three days in a row so I won't be able to work" you explained to Jiwoo and the rest of your team after everyone at the table had introduced themselves, and Kihyun chuckled at your remark.
"I hope you're going to take a break for the week-end and not think of work" he then inquired as he poured you some beer.
"You have a long week-end? How lucky of you!" Sora suddenly exclaimed with her hands clasping, making her boyf-… Her boss, laugh before his lips touched his glass.
God, it was painted all over his face ; he just loved her. His eyes were bearing an enamored spark as they landed on her, his long lashes giving them something so tender you felt chills on your arms just by watching.
You secretly wished someone – Lee Jooheon – would look at you like that. Oh but, Lee Jooheon had probably looked at her like that back in their days. Lucky her.
Before you could slap yourself to get out of your pitiful thoughts and way too envious state so that you could actually enjoy your night, Jie's smooth voice resounded in your eardrums :
"You want some?" he asked while holding a piece of meat between the pliers in his left hand, and you finally saw it.
Shining so brightly, looking more vivid than the heating charcoal under the barbecue plate in front of him, his life-line was lightened for you to see. You had been right : you were his ideal. You couldn't do anything except for nodding as this revelation and his two dark eyes boring into yours caught you off guard.
Was that him actually looking at you lovingly, like that, as you had just wished?
"Let me make you a wrap then" he smiled as he turned away from you to work on his preparation.
Your eyes dropped on his veiny forearms that were revealed as he had rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt to his elbows, before they dared to spy his profile. It was neat, as if sculpted in marble, as if borrowed from a manhwa. His hair looked wet on purpose and were combed back with the same hairstyle as the day before, yet a few strands were falling before his forehead, probably having lost the battle against the breeze outside. Was it because you felt lonely that you suddenly found him really attractive? Probably, because your heartbeat hadn't changed. However, at the thought that you were the girl of this man's fantasies, waves of heat came crashing against your skin and you bit your lip.
Was it a coincidence that he showed up now, or a sign that your heart should give a chance for another man to take it?
As Jie handed the piece of meat and lettuce neatly folded to you, you felt in his eyes that he was conveying a bit of his emotions at the same time, as something really sweltering was sparkling in them and lit up a tiny flame down your stomach. That man was so elegant and charming, and he dreamed to be with someone like you.
But that elegance and charm weren't the only great things you could list to describe him. As the dinner went on, you did your best to turn a blind eye on Sora's presence at the table and ended up chatting with Jie and his colleagues, whom you discovered were all good at Korean or English, and pretty nice. But Jie was always the nicest, the gentlest, the smartest, the fiercest of them all, at least in your eyes as you stared at him shamelessly.
He had dimples, just like Jooheon, but you quickly came to the conclusion that it was the only thing the two men had in common, probably explaining why the little light Jie's eyes had turned on inside you had soon been eaten by the remaining feelings Jooheon apparently still put you through just at the thought of him.
Jie was reserved, calm, hard-working. You came to understand that he was at least two years older than you, making you somehow shy and impressed. And you could read, in the eyes of his co-workers that gradually were turning red because of the soju you were sharing, that they all had a huge respect and admiration for him.
He was the perfect businessman every team would wish to work with : a good listener and an opportunity giver as he always asked about the quiet ones' opinions ; a responsible and wary person as he warned a teammate about how he should stop drinking because he had to meet his wife back home ; a polite mediator when he sensed that someone's remark could offend others, starting to calmly show to that person how rude he or she had been, or explaining his or her words so that everyone felt equally understood and not attacked.
And even though he didn't look like it, he was a funny guy. A timid one, but his jokes and his lovely smiles never failed to spread the happiness on the rest of the table's faces. He looked icy on the outside, having the silhouette of the serious secretary tightly gripped in his suit and shoes ; however, with how he remembered everyone's preferences when cooking the meat – including yours –, you could see that he was very warm.
On top of that, you truly felt how the law had made you a match to him, as he always seemed to complete your trail of thoughts, opening your eyes to another view you hadn't seen yet ; as he sensed when you didn't wish to drink anymore, stopping his teammates when they insisted to pour you a glass ; as he looked like he was eager to hear anything coming from your mouth, generously complimenting you for what you had achieved but without ever crossing the line where it would be too much.
Qian Jie was undeniably a sweet, sweet man, a man who embodied the perfect groom every mom would wish for her daughter to join at the end of the aisle ; nevertheless, objective perfection wasn't yours, and so the law was telling you.
Because, sadly for him, you couldn't help but compare his traits to your own ideal once you had drunk and eaten enough to do it without feeling your stomach knot.
It wasn't that Jooheon couldn't fit with the words warm, calm, or caring ; it just wasn't the same. Jooheon was more mischievous, more spontaneous and care-free when it came to talk about life stuff. On the few Instagram stories Kihyun had shared, you had seen him lose his temper during the futsal, or laugh and shout like a dork when he scored a goal. During the time you had spent chit-chatting with him at the bar or texting him afterwards, you had been attracted to his mysterious side, but his bubbly one had drawn you to him even more. It was that very spark that you liked, that insouciant charm he had, which certainly had been distraught by Sora but still managed to manifest itself from behind the walls Jooheon had built.
Just like his hair, Jooheon was fire, when Jie was water. The first one was full of passionate feelings to express, so much that he was about to break, so much that he was impulsive just like he had been that night with you ; when the latter seemed to prefer the smoothest of ways, always putting much thought in his actions and wordings, even in a situation where he had alcohol thickening his blood and was supposedly struck by the powers of the law.
You then wondered : what was the law's message to you? How come your ideal was fire, when you were supposed to suit water? Was it that you should trouble Jie's flow of life and make it more exciting and wilder, or that you should've canalized the flames so that Jooheon wouldn't burn himself anymore?
______
"Let's play a game! Girls versus boys, c'mon!" Changmin, the guy from your team who was the same age as yours, suddenly shouted, with his rosy cheeks inducing that he had swallowed a lot of booze.
You all agreed cheerfully and started exchanging seats, and in all the haste you accidentally ended up next to Sora, realizing then that you were going to get paired with her. She smiled at you immediately, and you wished she had been less beautiful, less kind, less lovely as she started a conversation with you while the boys were still struggling to understand the game's rules. Just as Jie and Jooheon were a world apart from each other, you felt diminished next to her, crumbling under the pile of differences you were spotting between the both of you.
You compared yourself again and again, as she shared with you her story about how she managed to climb up the ladder in her company at such a young age, as she envied your imagination but had the audacity and business-logic you lacked in, as she was so damn adorable that you could understand why Jooheon's heart hadn't turned to you at once. And if you couldn't see any flaws in him plausibly because the law was blinding you, this time you had your eyes fully opened as you watched and beamed at her, yet you couldn't pinpoint any flaws in her as well. You then imagined how hard it must be to fall out of love with someone like her, and how hard Jooheon must believe that he would never find better .
"Hello? Oh hey Jooheon!" Kihyun suddenly shouted over the ambient noise and his eyes instantly narrowed at you, a sickening smile twisting the corners of that filthy mouth of his.
You looked back at him as your body tensed up ; your ears did their best to catch the slightest word from this conversation ; your hands crumpled the napkin on your lap ; and your heart simply stopped beating as it had ascended up to your throat.
"Really? You're not kidding? You're taking the job?!" he exclaimed loud enough for you to hear. "Aaaaah you thought well my son, I can't wait to be your boss! You should be nice to me or I'll reduce your pay… Anyway good choice mate! Where I am? I'm out drinking and eating with Y/N and other colleagues!"
The way he insisted on your name punched an iron fist into your chest, which grabbed your bloody organ and pulled it down your throat to your stomach. Sora was right next to you and you could bet that she was listening too. What was he doing, putting on a show, all the while staring at you?!
I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, you cursed him through squinted eyes, and when you turned your attention back to your game partner, she was looking at you with surprisingly fond eyes.
However, she didn't say a word and simply grabbed your hands gently as Changmin told you to do so, and the game began, with a lot of laughter, too much mistakes and shouts, and thankfully, it stole your time to realize that you definitely were going to meet him again under those weird circumstances. Changmin sounded like he was full of crazy ideas tonight, as he shouted again, with his high-pitched voice :
"Let's go to the Golden Tiger! We're regulars there, we'll have some discounts! I like all of you so I want to treat you all with the company card!"
You suddenly felt as if you were going under a high fever, chills sliding down your skin while your head started spinning. Why that club, out of all the others? There were plenty of party sites in Seoul, why would he think of the one Jooheon works in? There were too much of coincidences in a short time, too much for you at least.
"I think I'll go home" you shyly muttered after a few seconds of zoning out and you stood up clumsily, hoping to escape as you knew your coworkers could turn into sharp traps clenching your ankle and preventing you to flee the scene.
You obviously knew that going down there was going to result in you losing your reason as you were completely disturbed by the love triangle you were tangled in. You would end up doing crazy things to evacuate all your stress, such as such as going to Jooheon's counter and bawl your eyes out before him because you felt empty and way too emotional after having spent the night with his ex. With that very ex to watch and him only paying attention to her and not to your ridiculous state, on top of that. This scenario was close to the one of a nightmare, and it was definitely a no-no.
You spanned the bench you had been seating on and everyone followed your lead, thinking you were pressed to go clubbing when you actually just couldn't stay in place and wished to run away as fast as you could. Once outside, your heels were bouncing slightly on the pavement, as you clutched your phone against your heart while the rest of the group was busy paying for your food, going to the restroom or trying to light a cigarette in spite of the breeze. Then, as you were about to bid them goodbye, Sora's voice was suddenly heard delivering the same excuse as yours, but with an alibi no one could question :
"I think we'll go home, that mister obviously can't follow" she struggled to say with a smile as she had the arm of her boyfriend hooked around her neck, his legs apparently giving up on him and making him completely lean on her, with his head down.
"Where do you think you're going?" Jiwoo threw darts at you with her eyes as she could guess from your moving figure that you were impatiently waiting for the moment to slip away.
"I'm-"
"Y/N, can I have a word with you for a second?" Sora suddenly called you out behind your back as she tossed her boss's body over to one of their colleagues who whined at how heavy he was.
Cold sweat ran down your spine and you gulped, your body always suffering from high tension whenever your eyes met hers.
"What is it?" you asked her after having taken a few steps away with her at your side, your tongue heavy and your cheeks completely flushed.
Even though the fresh air was stimulating your senses, they were quite altered by the effects of alcohol. You hadn't drunk that much, yet you had barely managed to stuff something to eat down your throat, too immersed into Jie's doings next to you, when you hadn't been thinking about Jooheon.
Through your half-closed eyelids, you could still see that the young woman was somehow hesitant, swaying from one foot to another and her fingers fiddling with each other. She bit her lip as she looked up at you, before grabbing your shoulders.
"Look… I'm sorry but I can't help saying what's been on my mind… I think… You know me" she started with a smile, and your tension suddenly went up to its limit, making you dizzier than you already were. "Or should I say, you know Jooheon, and through him… You know who I was to him. I read it in your eyes on the day of the meeting, and I read it on your face tonight, when he called."
You felt so ashamed that you wished a black hole could suck you up in an instant far away from her grasp and her eyes still looking at you caringly.
"I just wanted to tell you that you don't have to feel uncomfortable with me around! We are working together and he'll be there on the ship. To be honest, I wished Jooheon could meet someone after me who made him realize I wasn't the best for him, and if that's you- Oh my god sorry this sounds weird" she pressed her words. "I just think you're such a cool girl, Y/N. I haven't seen Kihyun trying so obviously hard in a while, he wouldn't if he didn't think you were too! I hope you two last long!"
_______
"What's going on between them?" Kihyun asked as his eyes fell on his friend's ex and you, the concern clear in his voice as he had just stepped out of the dining bar.
"I don't know, but Y/N wants to leave" Jiwoo grumbled before shivering as a whirlwind shrouded her body and messed with her light blonde hair.
"Ah…" your colleague sighed before taking his phone out to answer to his last message.
Kihyun [11:30 p.m.] : Dude, we're going to your club, is there a free table for the twelve of us?
My kid Jooheon [11:36 p.m.] : TWELVE?
My kid Jooheon [11:36 p.m.] : I'll see what I can do, but you better pay the bill tonight not like the last time, I'll never be nice to you again
My kid Jooheon [11:36 p.m.] : AND STOP TEXTING ME WHEN I'M AT WORK FFS
Kihyun [11:38 p.m.] : Well you're answering anyways, thanks I love yooooou
My kid Jooheon [11:39 p.m.] : Y/N's coming?
Kihyun [11:45 p.m.] : Oh, weird question isn't it, you never ask abt her
Kihyun [11:45 p.m.] : But I don't think so man
My kid Jooheon [11:46 p.m.] : Ah… I hope that's not because of me, I don't want her to miss a great night like she did last time at the bar
Kihyun [11:46 p.m.] : You're still thinking of this? Shit I guess I really messed up that time wow
[Unread message] Jooheon [11:46 p.m.] : Oh really no kidding
Kihyun [11:48 p.m.] : She's a bit drunk right now so I just think she's tired
Kihyun was lying, because he was well aware of your reasons without you wording it to him ; however, he couldn't make his friend feel worse than he already was.
My kid Jooheon [11:49 p.m.] : Someone's taking her home, right?
Kihyun [11:49 p.m.] : I don't know, she's about to leave now
My kid Jooheon [11:50 p.m.] : Ok…
My kid Jooheon [11:50 p.m.] : I know it's awkward of me to ask but… Just don't let her walk home alone, please
______
"I got rejected" you had managed to reply to Sora in the meantime.
Her rant had killed you on the spot, her kindness completely fired up with alcohol and drifting to something close to indiscretion without her wanting it to. You knew her words weren't meant to hurt you, but it still did.
She was so desperate to have Jooheon moving on, to lessen the burden on her shoulders, the weight of the pain she had caused obviously still tormenting her. Just like him trying with you, she was seeking for a way to his happiness on his behalf, but in your eyes, it was mainly in order to make up for her guilt.
"Y/N!" Kihyun suddenly ran up the pavement to you, pushing discretely his phone in his pocket as he wished to keep his last conversation a complete secret and try to execute his "mission".
"Yes?" you threw a jaded stare at him.
You didn't have the strength to deal with two people wishing for a relationship between Jooheon and you  to happen when you knew better than them that the latter didn't want to see it bloom to begin with. You were too tired to prove them wrong and fight against their concerns that were anything but touching at this point. Your lower lip started to tremble as you gave Kihyun a pleading, defeated look ; you were on the verge of breaking into a set of tears as you wished for nothing except for you to be safe and sound in your apartment, falling asleep so that this long night would be put to an end and another day would come quicker. A day where you'd be back to your strong-self dealing amazingly with her feelings and her everyday life without romance like she had promised herself to do.
"Y/N, let's go" Jie suddenly told you from his position a few feet away, saving you from hell as if he had heard your secret prayers, as if he was the only one to get the distress you were drowning in. "I'm not going to the club either, so I shall come with you. C'mon, I'll take you home."
The second your stare came across his and his reassuring tone caressed your eardrums, some salty, hot, tickling water definitely accrued at the crease of your eyelids. That kind man down there had fulfilled your needs without you even asking for it. He would certainly work for your happiness, and he was probably already fond of you and could be for a long time if you'd just let him ; still, the warm smile he addressed you wasn't enough to falter the misery the name "Jooheon" had pushed you in all over again. Nothing could ever make up for it, no one could fill up the void in your heart, except for Jooheon himself. However, he wouldn't. And to realize that, after three months of persuasion, was eating you alive.
       Kihyun [11:55 p.m.] : She's leaving now, with a man from the company we'll be working for…
*
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***
**
*
You couldn't clearly picture the way back home with Jie when you woke up the next morning with your head wheezing painfully, and you never tried to recall it afterwards as you spent your long weekend reconciliating with the fighting spirit you had sported 'til the past two days. You just knew you had walked for a while and felt a hint of his touch on your shoulders as he had covered them with his coat. You could picture yourself hopping in a taxi, yet you couldn't remember if you had talked, fallen asleep, or maybe cried in front of him ; neither did you know how you had managed to enter your flat and find your way to bed.
Qian Jie [10:06 a.m.] : Are you alright?
This lone message had put a smile on your dry lips, and your heavy fingers had managed to type a "yes, thank you for asking and taking me home yesterday" even though the room had seemed to be turning around your body, not helping to focus. You hadn't drunk that much to the point of enduring a blackout and such a harsh hangover, but you could guess that it simply were your brain and body that refused to cooperate after they had been plunged into the swamp of your negative emotions all over again.
However, you took the signs into account and instead of burying your emotions deep down as the tsunami they turned into once triggered wasn't welcomed, you accepted the fact that you were damned to like Lee Jooheon for a longer while. You hadn't been able to force your feelings out no matter how hard you had tried, then only being nicer to yourself could lift the weight of misery off your shoulders and help you not to falter at the sound of his name next time.
Meanwhile, you allowed yourself to chat with Jie sometimes for work, sometimes casually as he managed to push the conversation over event-related things. Of course you liked talking to him, as your mind was somehow destined to clink with his more than with the rest of men in this world, and obviously Jie seemed to be falling for you as you deciphered the sweet tone in his voice every time he would call you to check on – futile – things. And if his feelings were still one-sided for now, you gave your heart a break by stopping the overthinking and just enjoying your little excitement ; maybe you'd turn the page too before you'd know it…?
However, the day you had to see Jooheon's face again came sooner than you had expected, because right after you had come back to work, your team manager had had the wonderful idea to plan a briefing reunion between your team and the staff you had hired for the food making, the service, the animation or the music, were they independent workers or specialized companies which would then send a representant. You would explain what you expected from them, what was the theme, what were the rules, what would be the organization, all of this around a small buffet.
Himchan had thought that it would be a more humane and clearer way than communicating by mail or phone, and if you couldn't deny, your nervous heart didn't thank him on the D-Day while you were waiting in your company's hall to greet the convoked people. Of course, Jooheon wouldn't be represented as he had been especially recommended ; so of course, instead of having the information relayed to him by someone else, he was going to hear it from your mouth directly, your very mouth that still itched at the thought of your kiss ; and of course, Kihyun had ensured you with a smirk that his friend had confirmed his presence. How professional of him. What confused you above it all, was that you couldn't decipher the reason why he would still accept this job, when he was back in the football game…
______
The clock was ticking on the watch enclosing his left wrist, and Jooheon found himself unable to walk through the glass doors of the huge building without having the fear that his heart would burst like a firework. Once again, his body was strangely stimulated by some flashes of thoughts he had of you every once in a while, and that never missed to make him feel edgy. Had he really made the right choice, wouldn't his mind had let go of the memories just like ashes evaporating in the air by now?
He hated how indiscreet his eyes had been these past months, lurking at Kihyun's phone's screen whenever he was sliding through his feed on Instagram, hoping he'd get to see a picture of you smiling and being – at least apparently – well. Because he, had been doing pretty well. Much better, to be precise.
Just like you had suggested him to, he had finally gathered the sufficient courage to confront his second biggest fear, football, as he couldn't stand the feeling of being such a loser and scaredy-cat anymore. Stopping to live like that had somehow been his way to cope with what he had done to you. He had then met with his coach after a long time of ignoring his calls, who had gladly welcomed him and re-offered his help to train him all over again, as well as his teammates who were happy to get their brother back in the family.
And as he had finally felt alive on the track field after a long time of wandering like a lost soul between his home and the club, his thankful heart and mind had only been craving to tell you how right you had been. In the end, without even being by his side anymore, you still had been the wind pushing him across the paths of challenges but happiness as well, would it be that night or right now, and Jooheon could never forget how this quick passage of yours had marked him for life. You had tamed the fire within him, reason why the ashes were still around…
His sharp eyes had barely caught the sight of you chatting with Kihyun and whom he guessed were other colleagues behind the windows, that his stomach twisted itself just like his mother used to twist their drenched laundry.
"Lee Jooheon, we need to go, they're waiting" a dismayed voice called him out.
His agent was standing in front of the doors, his expression clearly inducing how impatient and upset he was starting to feel before his childish behavior.
"Why'd you come anyway? It's embarrassing, I don’t need you for personal affairs like these" the younger boy grumbled while pushing his hands into the pockets of his black trousers.
"The coach told me to see for myself how much of an important meeting you were attending for you to miss a training day" the man smiled sarcastically.
"Ah-a! I regret going back to him, I didn't know he'd be that clingy and wouldn't trust me ever again!" Jooheon scoffed, earning some time.
"It's not that he doesn't trust you, he's just scared that he'll lose you anytime, you're still his precious gem you know, the future of his club, the son he had lost for a while, his-"
"Oh no stop it please, this is cringy" Jooheon frowned while covering his ears, even if he still heard the laugh of his agent which drastically stopped as he pushed the door open.
"Come on. Let's go" he ordered with a straight face.
"I really didn't miss you, not once" the footballer sighed.
This man, Mr. Seo, a father of two kids and a devoted husband, had always been there for him, even when he had cut ties with everyone. He had kept on sending diet food and side dishes to his place after the injury, just like had been doing back when Jooheon was training under his protection, with encouraging notes telling him to take his time but to come back. Unfortunately for him, Jooheon had only felt more guilty and unworthy at the sight of these pure displays of affection he couldn't pay back, instead of getting cheered up.
Your stares met as soon as Jooheon made his entry, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl themselves up to offer you a shy smile, his suffering stomach immediately untying so that it would welcome the fluttering sensation of sparks tingling its walls. Yet you didn't smile back, or more accurately, not at him but at someone coming from behind him as your eyes quickly left his. They indeed followed a man who strode past Jooheon's manager, wearing a dark brown suit and with a neat hairstyle, his blonde hair color seeming to be the one of his birth and not the result of bleaching the locks a few times. The man came to stand next to you, and as Jooheon was concentrating to distinguish your voice over the lots of blabbering around him in the hall, Kihyun called him out :
"Lee Jooheon! Oh hello Mr. Seo! Finally, I was about to call you!" his friend smiled, obviously having said it loud enough so that everyone would admire the latecomer.
All the faces turned to him as they heard the familiar name, belonging to a "football player who has made his comeback to the infamous club in Seoul and is preparing all over again to enter the national team in the near future". Or so the medias were saying, in such a dramatical way. As much as he hated being the center of attention, his coach had been going out and about his "great return" as well as his teammates on their social accounts – they were proud, but way too proud. Jooheon hissed discretely, noticing embarrassingly that a girl from the group was already gazing at him quite intently, but what embarrassed him the most was his brain that told him he would have liked to catch your attention instead.
However, you were still discussing with the suited man whose head was quite close to yours, showing him something on sheets you were arranging for him and nodding back at him, before you cleared your throat :
"Welcome everyone, and thank you for coming. Please follow us to the first floor where our team manager is waiting for you" you announced.
"Wow she's young" Jooheon heard a man whisper.
"And pretty hot" another muttered back before they giggled together.
The sparks in Jooheon's body suddenly lit up a flame that was about to blow up into a raging fire if he ever heard another comment coming from their dirty mouths. He hadn't known he would be that sensitive to see you again today, and if he had, he would have gladly stayed in bed this early morning. Everything was wrong about the way he was feeling right now, about how he was craving for your attention, about how he was nervous to be around you, when you seemed to be so calm – with that man standing at your side and smiling at you and you smiling back at him and him letting you enter the lift first as a true gentleman even if his hand on your back was a tad too much.
It was as if the situation was pushing him into a corner of discomfort the more he had your silhouette, which was lovely more than pretty hot, in his sight, that very silhouette he had refused to hold in his arms exclusively. He could feel the excitement bubbling within his limbs, sign that you still were like a shot of happiness to him, but what were those upsetting side-effects?
______
You stepped into a large room where the guests each chose a seat while you took place next to Himchan who was ready to give his speech. Jie sat at the front row, on your left, prepared to take notes so that he could relay the organization to his boss ; and thankfully, Sora had sent a colleague, putting the strangling reunion of your love triangle with Jooheon off to the scary date of the event.
"Good morning everyone! I'm Kim Himchan, the manager in charge of this project and this is Yoo Kihyun, Y/L/N Y/N and Jeon Jiwoo, my people, my team" your boss started with a clap of his hands.
Jooheon was sitting at the far back of the room, his right foot landed over his left knee, his hands with tangled fingers across his leg, his black turtleneck top under his camel trucker jacket catching your eye, but less than the fact that he had shortened his hair and the color had faded since the last time you met, signs that a long time had passed. Yet, his handsomeness never failed to feed your eyes, but when they met his dark pupils, your blood turned icy. He looked like the distant, rebellious kid at the back of the class that pinned the teachers down in their place with their piercing gaze.
You wondered if Jie was feeling the same way every time he met you, and if that was the case, you pitied him ; you were quite lucky to come across Jooheon only once in a while, as he shook your senses enough for you to feel disturbed even once you had parted, and you hated it.
Though this time, something had changed in him, but you couldn't pinpoint exactly what. Something in his look was turning your body stiff, just like it had the first time at the club ; it had been the only one time you had seen him shining with confidence and easiness, and right now, it seemed as if the usual gloominess that had inhabited him afterwards had… Gone. Had you guessed it right, had football really relieved him? Or was it something else? Either way, you didn't receive nor share his sadness this time as something different was emanating from him.
The more the clock on the wall was reading the seconds passing by, the more your hand was starting to hurt like hell, and the less you could focus on the meeting. You ignored if the explanation of the pain was lingering in the pure fact that the two lines were solicited at the same time, or simply that your body was overreacting under your systematical, uncontrollable desire to have Jooheon for you, and to have him lean on you.
The two pair of eyes of the men bound to you by destiny were focused on your being, unashamedly, inevitably, obviously staring at you and you only, and you were thrilled to read some kind of intensity in Jooheon's pupils each time you came to catch their sight. Mechanically, your thumb had started to slide along your palm in order to soothe the scorching sensation you thought you were the only one to suffer from, until you perceived your ideal's fingers doing exactly the same, with his palm turned to the ceiling for you to see.
You then got captured in a glimpse of time and space where nobody could tell, except for the both of you, that you were letting yourselves getting consumed into the sweet pain and under each other's stares. Suddenly, when Jie shifted in his seat and grasped your attention, his shy smile at you turned the sweet pain into an excruciating one, as if someone was planting a knife into your hand again and again.
It told how much you were torn between your need for your one-sided love to be accepted, and the will you had developed to walk down the possible way out of it.
"And that's about it! Any questions, before we get our claws on the appetizing buffet behind you?" Himchan concluded just before you'd scream out of pain, and as nobody rose a hand, you used the mass movement towards the back of the room as an opportunity to run discretely to the toilets.
The cold water flowing on your palm made you sigh in relief, and you closed your eyes for a moment, but ended up opening them in a haste as the picture of Jooheon staring at you had appeared in the black space veiling your pupils. What was wrong with him? When you had imagined he'd be nothing more than formal with you as three months had passed without him regretting anything, in fact he had almost been scanning you naked with his insisting look at your face. You slowly regained your composure as the pain dispelled, and finally walked out of the restroom, only to be met by one of the guests, a man in his mid-thirties, in the corridor.
"Oh sir? Did you lose yourself?" you asked him as he had been standing with his back against the wall.
He stood up properly with a smug look on his traits that instantly put you in a cagey position as something disturbing was glowing from his body, like a bad feeling, and he took long strides until he was properly facing you.
"Actually no… It might sound weird, but I followed you here because I wanted to have a short private talk with you, Miss Y/L/N" he said with a smile that wasn't warming at all.
"R-really? You must have some points to share? Tell me so I could relay them to my sup-"
"You're really professional, I like you even more…" he acknowledged in a low-tone, and this time, you were definitely embarrassed.
Was he hitting on you, right now? There was nobody in the corridor as the restrooms were quite far from the meeting rooms, and you weren't sure of how this would end as you'd have to turn his eventual confession down.
"I just wanted a bit of privacy, to ask you out for dinner, tomorrow night. Just you and me."
"I'm sorry but I'll have to refuse, sir." you smiled awkwardly with an enchanting tone to chase away the tension building between the both of you. "Thank you for proposing, but-"
"Oh please, you can't refuse, it's my treat! I know a bunch of luxurious restaurants that women adore, you won't regret it!" he insisted, grabbing his phone in the pocket of his costume's vest and presenting it to you. "Here! Why refuse, my pretty lady, hm? That senior is ready to do anything for you."
He looked so arrogant, obviously thinking girls who were young were also dupe and would gladly give themselves to him, but he had been wrong about you. You almost rolled your eyes at his stubborn behavior, as if using his status and pet names – that were out of place – would make you change your mind.
"I'm really sorry, I can't accept your offer, sir. Should we go back to-"
"Why are you refusing?" he suddenly groaned, combing his hair nervously. "Don't you know how good of an opportunity this is for your company? We could be great partners afterwards! You shouldn't be that difficult and just give me a night, huh? C'mon, I told you you wouldn't regret it!"
Your heartbeat was now the one of some kind of fanfare turning hectic, as you felt anger fueling through your veins at his threat, but also the premises of panic because the two of you were alone.
"I don't think us going out on a date tomorrow has anything to do with my career or my company, sir" you tried to answer in the politest of tones before biting your tongue so that insults wouldn't proliferate out of your lips.
"Hey, you little- You should know better than to talk back to your elders and just accept the good deeds they do for you, shouldn't you?"
"I think I have the right to refuse, sir. I'm sorry."
"You're very stubborn as I can see… What a shame, hm?"
The man suddenly grabbed your right arm, freezing you in your heels, his eyes opened wide and his brows furrowed in pent-up frustration as you didn't comply to his far from legitim authority. And just as he had been about to lecture you some more, a hand caught his and firmly removed it from your limb.
"You heard her, right? She refused, you disgusting pervert" Jooheon interfered in a tensed, stern tone as he stepped before you, before his jaw clenched tightly.
The surprise of his sudden appearance and your frozen state quickly faded away as his citrus perfume invaded your space ; and like an enchantment, it lifted the atmosphere up, relaxed your limbs and untied the knot twisting your stomach in fear, making you feel at ease and secure.
"W-What?" the man stuttered, looking impressed by the young man's serious face and his apparent strength as he had squeezed his hand without pity.
"I filmed everything before interfering, and I'll report this to your employer, you can be sure of it. Also, I can make it buzz in a few hours, don't you know who I am? Huh? I can bring you down in a minute" he pursued as he took a step further. "I can't believe you're proudly saying you're a senior when you act like an ignorant pervert. So maybe I, a junior, should teach you how life is. Nothing will ever give you the right to think women should oblige when you say so. You're nobody. No-bo-dy. You don't have any right to tell a woman she's disrespectful when you don't respect her in the first place. Do you get what I'm saying, sir? Or should I make it clearer? You don't have any right to lay your dirty hands on a woman unless she agrees for you to do so, you hear me? You don't have any right to intimidate her or even talk to her to begin with, you scumbag, you filthy dirty scumbag I swear you should be taught to be a man"
Jooheon had approached the businessman a bit more, his right index pointing at his chest but never touching him, his physical presence enough to crush anyone else's self-assurance into dozens of pieces. His unphased expression and threatening behavior impressed you, as well as his sharp tone, mostly because you were their trigger. Something had definitely changed in him. Something that was straightening his back and glowed through every pore of his fair skin, telling you he was now standing with a confidence you hadn't known of.
He looked like a man that finally was comfortable enough in his own shoes, but as you could decipher the invisible flames of fury irradiating all around his body and spotted his left fist tightening, you grabbed his wrist so that he wouldn't take it further. Jooheon turned back to your fingers wrapped around his watch, then to you.
"I won't do anything, only if you forgive him" your ideal then addressed you in a calm tone, before he unblocked your sight of the man for you to kill him with a disgusted stare.
"Don't get that angry, young boy, I-I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry" the latter couldn't talk properly anymore, shame reddening his prominent cheeks.
Jooheon's eyes were gazing at you with a sweetness reminding you of that morning when he had held you close in his kitchen, and you cursed secretly at him for having appeared next to you when you were at your weakest, as his ambiguous behavior made your heart flutter even more. It conveyed the same light of false hopes you had tried to turn a blind eye to, and it was dangerously circling you.
"He's not the one you should apologize to" a familiar voice suddenly cut in the conversation, and Jie appeared from the end of the corridor with a face as strict as Jooheon's. "I witnessed everything as well and looked up for your company's contact information. I won't let this go. This isn't making business, this isn't profitable for your company or hers, this is harassment, and you should be ashamed of it."
Jooheon's brows quirked in surprise as he looked at the plus-one who had put an end to his somehow intimate moment with you, only to be met with the darkest stare he'd ever received in his whole life. Dark, but also… Thankful? Your eyes were going back and forth between the two saviors, as you felt that an electric vibe was circulating from a pair of eyes to another. The pain in your hand burned your flesh all over again as you did so, and the second you winced, Jooheon and Jie's attention focused on you, completely forgetting about the third party who let out a long sigh before hanging his head low, evidently having a hard time swallowing his pride to apologize to you.
"I'm sorry, miss. Forgive me."
"I hope you will stop thinking that your position should make women appreciate you and beg for a night with you. I will stay nice for now because the event is coming soon and we can't replace you in such a short time. But I hope that your attitude doesn't reflect your company's values, I'll ask about it myself. Just know that it would be shameless of you to dare come out in front of me ever again, and if you do so, the video will be out" you managed to warn him even though your voice was trembling due to your need to moan your suffering out. "Let's go back to the room"
You didn't know where your confidence to lecture an older man had come from when he had been pretty intimidating before and you had been quite scared for yourself ; surely Jooheon's and Jie's overpowering auras, like those of two knights in shining armors, had made you feel protected and supported.
"You're coming with me" Jie surprisingly took your hand in his and without further explanations, leaded the walk down the corridor, leaving the pervert behind the both of you ruminating his own frustration and fright to get reported anytime, but also Jooheon whose lips got sealed the second your skins weren't in contact anymore.
His eyes fell down on your hand intertwined in his, an unreadable expression veiling his traits before they went up to your face as you looked back at him while walking away, still flustered by his intervention, and torn to have your hand in another man's.
______
"Where are you taking me? And why hold my hand?" you asked Jie as you followed behind him.
You didn't have the guts to tear your hands apart on your own, the serious look on his face preventing you to do so.
"Where can I find ice?" Jie asked you back as he kept on pacing straight in the hallway.
"Ice? Ah that's right, we forgot to put some on the tables for the drinks! We can go to the rest area, we have a fridge there" you informed him, your heart beating fast. "It's the door on the right, over there…"
Once you had entered the empty room, Jie finally freed your palm to close the door behind the both of you, then he pressed himself towards the fridge. You silently observed him as he put some ice cubes in a towel he had found on the vending machine's handle, before he told you to sit on one of the sofas.
"What? Why?"
"I know your left hand is hurting, you were rubbing it a while ago and I can feel it too, it hurts pretty badly, doesn't it?" he answered in the most natural of ways, and your heart begun the fanfare all over again.
He was so considerate, from the way he had noticed your pain, to how he had also stepped up to a senior only to defend you. For the first time since your encounter, and even though your feelings belonged to someone else, you couldn't deny that it had reached out to you, almost in a romantic way.
"O-Oh… Thank you…"
"I'm sorry I followed you to the toilets, but I was pretty worried about you" he then told you straightforwardly.
It looked like he was having a lots of arrows to shoot at you on this day.
"Actually I went to the toilets to put some water on it, but ice is way better" you sighed in relief as he was massaging your palm with the ballot of ice he had quickly made, and the mixture of the warmth of his hand supporting yours and the cold of the fabric was the most soothing of sensations.
His brows were furrowed as he was concentrating on keeping his gestures delicate, and you took this opportunity to close your eyes briefly. Some pictures of the previous incident flashed through your mind, and you gazed back at Jie to admire his sharp traits that never failed to fascinate you. How come your thoughts were monopolized by Jooheon's face and questions about him, when this man right here was ready to give you what you needed? The law was so unfair to the both of you.
"Thank you, for also coming to my rescue earlier, that man was pretty creepy" you said before biting your lip, as he probably hadn't been able to prevent himself to do so.
"I'm just glad I followed you there, my instincts definitely never betray me" he smiled purely as his eyes finally looked at you, catching you in the act of analyzing every single inch of his skin. "Oh and about tomorrow night… What will you be doing?"
"Tomorrow night? Nothing, I only told him no because I didn't want to go" you chuckled.
"Oh well… I was willing to ask you out on a date anyway, so I might just do it now. Would you mind going out to eat with me instead, tomorrow night?"
His eyes conveyed an intensity that flushed your cheeks and suspended time for a second, in this room only lightened by the few rays of sun penetrating through the small window and enlightening in gold his light strands of hair. You could have sworn your heart had finally given up some beats to this man worthy of everything, but its main rhythm was obviously stimulated by another man that was somewhere behind this door.
The way to a possible happiness without him was paved right before you for your eyes to see, and probably to a new beginning with a decent man ; however, you knew from your past relapse at the sight of Jooheon's picture, and from the way he had overshadowed Jie earlier would it be in the room or in the corridor, that you weren't quite ready to date or love anyone else but him.
"Can I give you my answer later?" you still smiled.
It would be the perfect occasion to be truthful with him and put an end to his false hopes just like Jooheon had done with you, before it would be too late, before he would end up as miserable as you had been for weeks. The temptation to just give in the easy way had been powerful as his care for you was heart-fluttering, but less than your feelings for Jooheon, and you couldn't deceive Jie or yourself anymore.
"Sure, Y/N" he gently nodded before going back to his ministrations without saying another word.
______
Jooheon had witnessed the incident from the very beginning. Indeed, he had seen you step out of the room hurriedly and not too long after, one of the men he had heard talking dirtily about you earlier in the main hall had followed you. Just like Jie, his guts had told him that nothing good would happen out of an eventual encounter, and they had taken his feet through the huge and numerous hallways of the building, the red vest of the pervert always in his sight.
He had then waited quietly at the corner of a crossover, observing the man as he had paced around in front of the women's restroom's door before stationing himself against the wall. Jooheon's heart had been bumping against his ribcage, while his hands had enclosed into tight fists, the tension getting higher in this silent corridor. When you had finally stepped out, he had caught his breath not to miss any single word of your conversation, and had brandished his handphone to record the scene in case you'd need it.
The second the man had dropped his first dirty move on you, Jooheon's anticipation had turned into anger, his veins popping out of his neck, hands and even temples. And right at the moment when he had decided he'd had enough of this disgusting scene playing under his two eyes, he had spotted the blonde man in his brown suit walking down the hallway facing his, approaching the scene. That was when a thought had popped up in his mind fueled with rage : he had promised himself not to be a coward anymore. And that very thought, had urged his body towards yours, as if attracted to you like a magnet, and made him intervene before his twisted brain could tell him to hide like the runaway he was.
Jooheon had rarely seen that red in his whole life, as he had felt on the verge to crush the man down until he had been crawling and begging for your forgiveness, but mostly, the sensation of being strong, important in your eyes had excited him somehow.
Nevertheless, it hadn't lasted long. When the blonde man had finally interrupted him in his rare time of following his heart, when he had looked at him without blinking, Jooheon's confidence had lost to his doubts, again. The sadness lingering in your last text message, the memory of your teary eyes three months ago, the echo of your voice begging him to stop acting as if there was a way for a "you" to happen struck him like a thunderbolt. Maybe this man, would make you happy when he had failed to.
That millisecond of torment had been enough for this very man to be the one taking your hand then your body away from that dirty stranger, without thinking or hesitating, and to leave him as the defeated man he still seemed to be. He thought he had changed, but once more, what had only been left, was the price of his regrets or, like his friend Minhyuk had accurately induced, the price of his feelings he had wrongfully subsided. Right in this corridor, Lee Jooheon had been a bit too late to realize that he liked you too, as his lingering anger had transformed into frustration and jealousy.
Regrets, regrets, regrets. Jooheon was getting tired of this bugging feeling. So tired that he'd do anything to not welcome them anymore. And as his eyes had fallen on his empty left hand, his vivid heart-line scorching his skin couldn't have seemed more meaningful to him.
The key to the end of this long labyrinth he had been wandering in with his eyes closed, hoping to find an issue while avoiding the new experiences in front of him, was in fact residing in one thing : his heart, that had given him the most impulsive, spontaneous of directives in a while, but the most ecstatic of feelings once he had been close to you.
His heart, calling for him to fall off the cliff he had been hanging on for too long, and to finally give in to the euphoria of love, for himself and for you.
*
**
***
**   
*  
"I'll send them off manager, don't worry!" you exclaimed to Himchan's attention as you walked out of the building and stood a few meters away from the entrance to shake hands with everyone and thank them.
The subtle breeze comforted you after the disturbing episode in the hallway, but it couldn't calm the drum solo your bloody organ was still playing as you knew you'd come to face Jooheon again. You hadn't had the chance to approach him after you had been back to the meeting room, as Jie had stood by your side all the while, his eyes telling you that he had been worried that you'd collapse at any moment, once the pressure had completely fallen down.
Your heels were stamping the pavement as you were thinking of what to say, but also wondering if you could ask the questions Jooheon had the talent to outnumber with additional ones every time you met, leaving them preys to your unending interpretation.
The man of your dreams was the last one to step out, his agent leaving the two of you on the forecourt after bidding politely his goodbyes, and before you could open your mouth to thank him properly for having protected you, Jooheon asked you :
"Are you alright?"
"I guess, thanks to you. Thank you for intervening, really" you said truthfully, and when your eyes dived into his crescent ones, your body vibrated with the familiar yet dangerous tsunami of feelings you had bottled up.
Jooheon shared that same trembling feeling as he, too, had kept many things inside for a long while, and as he was letting them out one after the other, he couldn't fight the smile curling his lips at your sight and answer.
"Good then, I'm glad to hear that" he sighed his thoughts out, before licking his lower lip. "I have a thing to be thankful for you as well."
"Me? What is it?" you questioned him with doubt lacing your voice.
"I've been practicing football again, and I wouldn't have hadn't it been for you. You might not realize it, but I wanted to thank you anyways because it has helped me a lot" he confessed.
His deep and serious tone made you scoff the embarrassment out of your body, before swinging slightly back and forth to vivify your limbs as they could melt under his stare at any moment. You felt nervous to be left alone with that new version of him, his quiet strength overhanging you.
"What does that even mean, I didn't do anything special…" you grumbled. "Anyway, I'm glad to hear that as well."
He chuckled at your reaction, and started counting the seconds passing by, his brain urging itself to find what to say so that you wouldn't part ways already.
"Can I ask you a question?" you unexpectedly spoke up another time, relieving him as you granted him a bit more time.
"Sure, go ahead" Jooheon shrugged, his palms growing sweaty because of the anticipation.
"Why did you take the job? You don't need it anymore, I mean you're back in the club" you interrogated frankly, an apparent unphased look dressing your face.
You had taken acting classes back in school, so you knew how to pretend. When you could sometimes share his emotions or read him like an open book because he was your soulmate, you had decided to take an advantage of this unbalanced situation by displaying a bit of nonchalance and distancing, so that you wouldn't falter before him as easily as in front of his resumé.
"Hmmm…" he hummed as he certainly hadn't expected this question to come out. "Should I be honest or-"
"I can tell if you lie, you know" you reminded him while waving your left hand at him with the red mark shining brightly.
"That's true… Well, let's say that my guts told me to do so" Jooheon managed to mumble while diverting his eyes from your face as it could drive him into betraying his deepest intentions.
Even though he had found pure bliss in acting recklessly earlier, his body moving and his tongue untying without warning, now that there was only the two of you he was hyperaware of his every move, scared to ruin his chance to try putting the pieces of an "us" together, or at least sow its seeds.
"Your guts…?"
You tilted your head, unsure of what it meant. Another swirl of wind flew around you and brought his scent right into your nostrils again, his presence getting more and more overwhelming.
"Yeah, my guts" Jooheon reiterated as his eyes lowered back on you with the same intensity as in the hallway, catching the legs of time that stopped running along with your breath.
He could see that you were drowning under a sea of confusion as his behavior swayed between assertive and careful of being too forward, confusing him all the same as he was hesitating about what to actually do. Hiding his feelings and himself wasn't an option anymore ; but why couldn't all of his fiery honesty just form the right words that would translate what he actually felt about you?
"Fine, see you soon then" you abruptly concluded, upset by his vague answer that was way worse than silence, and you extended your hand to send him off just like you had done with the rest of the group.
Jooheon gladly took it, but he didn't let go after a short shake ; in fact, he pulled at it in a swift move once he had sensed that you were about to question his actions, bringing you pretty close to him.
"You said you could tell when I lied…" the words trailed out of his mouth as he looked down at you with sparkly and squinted eyes. "Well, I kinda lied."
"What do you-"
Your voice suddenly got muted as the orange-haired boy snaked his way around your neck and waist with his arms, lightly squeezing your body into a hug before his head landed on your shoulder, his neck kissing your lips. You gasped, but your hands were unable to push him away, whether it be you giving in to his touch as you loved it just like you loved him, or the law tying them down to your body as it had finally gotten what it existed for : you being close to your soulmate.
"Sorry, that's what my guts told me to do as well" his voice vibrated through his chest against yours and resonated in your headwalls. " I think I missed you, Y/N. I'm too ashamed to say it straight to your face, but my guts… No, my heart is making me crave to do all sort of things today, and for the first time in a while, I know I won't regret it."
At this confession, his fingers dug a bit deeper into the fabric of your blazer. You could feel his heart beating fast against your torso, giving credit to his messy declaration that left you breathless. Your own vital organ was throbbing at the erosion of thoughts buzzing through your mind, from you stealing a kiss from him to smacking his face for being this late ; but the chills on your skin were slowly inducing that you were somehow thrilled to believe that something was actually happening. After all your efforts. After three months. After only a short reunion in the morning.
"I thought of you pretty often, as reconciliating with football was a way for me to stop living like a coward waiting for things to get better without working on it at some point" he acknowledged. "And I thought it was strange that I couldn't move on, so I wanted to see you again to sort things out, and that's the answer I've got… I just couldn't part ways another time without being honest with myself and with you, for once. I just needed you to know, that I missed you."
"Why do you want me to know that" you finally answered in a monotone, your voice muffled by his body against yours, and Jooheon adjusted his arms around your frame so that you could properly speak.
Your breath on the material of his clothes still sprawled ticklish sensations all over his skin like ants going down his limbs, and he almost hissed at the flustering sensation.
"Because I'm tired of thinking about you with regrets filling my mind" he finally straightened himself to gaze properly at you in the eyes, his arms still resting loosely on your body. "I know I told you not to wait for me, I hope you didn't… And I don't know who that man is to you… But I'll have to try my best to listen to this raging dude if I want to be proud of myself one day"
He patted the left part of his chest, releasing your shoulders from his hold, and it immediately felt cold. You had missed him too; your colleagues could testify. And for a long while, you had wished for this moment to happen, him coming back to get you with eyes full of regrets and apologies as he'd have realized that he liked you back and that it was worth the try.
The overwhelming sensations you went through at the listening of his speech suddenly spilled through the edge of your fingers that hurried themselves up his shoulders, to his neck, before they reached his face, and pulled him into a kiss. A long, insistent, needy press of your lips against his ; the only way to put an end to his confusing rent and to your panicked thoughts plaguing your mind.
You had been dying to kiss him since the first time you had met him in the club, and after your last one, just while thinking of him ; now that you were doing it again, it seemed that you'd never get enough of him, never enough to fill in the void he had left up 'til now.
When his lips started moving against yours to kiss you back again and again with the same need, upgrading to another rhythm, Jooheon felt like he was getting dangerously closer and closer to abandoning himself to his euphoria again, so he forced himself to pull back, leaving you with your eyes closed.
"I like you, Y/N" he breathed out. "I like you, but I want to take it easy. I've hurt you."
You finally grasped what had happened, what your body had decided to do on its own, how your bottled feelings for him or maybe the powers of the law had taken over your faculty to think rationally or even control yourself ; and that was when Kihyun's words from three months ago resounded with the most power into your eardrums.
"You know, when you date your ideal, you almost forget how it actually feels to love at first. I swear, the sensations you get almost turn into a drug, something you can never get enough of! You immediately love the person without even knowing him or her, and you're in such a bliss, in such an awe, that you can't even distinguish what your real emotions are anymore. It took me a break with my girlfriend to look back on what I feel, what I love in her, and to miss her but because my heart felt empty, not my entire self."
Burning with your desire for him, craving for his touch when he had barely hugged you, kissing him with a despair you hadn't been able to contain, wishing for it to never stop and only seeing and feeling him ; all the emotions crashing down on your being were too much to handle at once, so much that you got scared of yourself.
All along, you had been sure that you liked – no, loved him, and that the empty feeling you had gone under painfully could be explained by the power of love before the one of the law. However, right now, you couldn't decipher where the origin of your rushed, needy actions and of your emotions lingered : was it really from your heart that pounded in your chest as its fluttering was finally reciprocated? Or from the law that had made you fall for Jooheon in the first place and now stimulated your body to the point that it felt like you weren't mastering it anymore, because it was satisfying its purpose?
You were suddenly terrified of what Jooheon actually made you feel, instead of enjoying the bliss they all had talked about ; when his feelings were genuine as he wasn't tied to you by the law, the intensity of your excitement shone the confusion Kihyun had talked to you about in your blurred spirit. You needed to tame and sort these new emotions out, before you'd get pervasive and lose yourself and him a second time.
"I-I'm sorry" you only managed to stammer as you pushed his hands away from you, before taking a step back, then another one.
"Y/N, wait let's-"
"You needed time, now I need mine" you cut him as you were getting closer and closer to the building. "I was only wishing for this to happen, but… I-I don't know what I'm feeling right now I need to go"
"Wait just stay let's talk it out I have so much to-"
"I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me but I just can't be with you any longer" you finally sobbed your frustration out and without looking at him, your eyes glued to the pavement where you had searched for your sanity in vain, you turned around and disappeared behind the glass doors.
Jooheon clutched a hand at his heart beating way too loud for him to think clearly, the palm of his left one burning after your passionate kiss. And for the second time, he had to watch you walk away without having the chance to hold you back into another moment where the blooming of an "us" was waiting for the both of you to water it at the same time.
*
*     
A/N : thank you again for having read it up ‘til now, I’m doing my best to continue writing the ending part through my schedule!
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kogo-dogo · 4 years
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I looked at your favorite character top 5 thing and there's the one character you said was your ''problematic fave''. And I've heard of that game before because I saw somebody play it on Youtube once, I think the second one, and I was just curious about the character. Torque?? Because it seems like such a bad game and he didn't seem to have much personality but you seem very attacked so I was wondering if maybe it was worth looking into the series or something. I like old games.
I am so sorry that I said a week ago I’d answer this, Anon. I have so many thoughts about this probably-actually-one-dimensional character because I’ve had sixteen years to pick apart every scrap of info that exists about him. And overanalysis of fictional men is, at this point, my primary hobby.
First of all… eh. I won’t say to definitively not look into the series, but I would encourage you not look into the series. It’s one of those things that’s aged like an open bottle of two-buck chuck and I can tell you right now that it wouldn’t be as palatable in 2020 as it was in 2004. As much as I love Prison is Hell (the first game) and as much as I get what they were trying to do, they messed a lot of things up and it wouldn’t translate well to modern times. This is especially true for Ties That Bind. Oh my god, do NOT play Ties That Bind if you’re easily offended.
It’s fascinating to pick apart, though, even if it seems extremely basic on the surface level, and part of the reason I like Torque so much is because he’s a very interesting character to crack open and inspect. I know he probably Isn’t That Deep, but he’s interesting, figuring him out is a puzzle because of the way storytelling is carried out, and if he’d been handled better, would probably still be remembered beyond “quiet dude in a game Youtubers occasionally play on Halloween.” He’s really an unfortunate casualty of that era of gaming. It’s surprising he was handled with any dignity at all.
Spoilers are to follow, but it’s for the best. Now you don’t have to play the game.
First, a disclaimer: The Suffering games do work on a morality system, where you can get good or bad endings based on how you treat other people. The game is heavily designed to favor the good ending, and most people I’ve spoken to have agreed the good endings are likely canonical considering how much you’d miss while playing neutral/evil. So, we’re going with the “Good Aligned Torque is Canon” angle.
Okay. Now.
- Who is Torque? 
This guy.
Torque is, in essence, what happens when you take every tired trope of a horror movie villain and flip it around on its head. He’s a severely mentally ill inmate convicted of murder (while it’s never outright stated what mental illnesses he has, it’s pretty obviously a mixture of DID and schizophrenia), he never speaks (at least not in the present; he does have scant dialogue in flashbacks in the second game; it amounts to maybe eight words total), and he is… freakishly strong. Beyond that, there’s very heavy evidence that he’s somehow supernaturally inclined. 
The difference is that, instead of being presented as the villain, he’s the hero. He’s not just the hero, he’s basically one of the very few competent people in the games. Nobody treats him any different than they would anyone else, the game doesn’t go out of its way to underline that he’s some kind of “monster,” and even when the most monstrous of his alters presents itself (The Creature, who we’ll discuss later), people are just kind of like, “Oh, well that was different” and then move on with their lives.
He is a character who could very easily take the place of Jason Voorhees, and instead of being given a machete and told to kill everyone he comes across, he’s given a fire ax and a voice in his head that tells him to take care to think about how much other people are struggling and that maybe, being that he is probably stronger than them, he should put forth the effort to get them someplace safe. 
- Okay, but, like… WHO is he? Character-wise?
If you want his backstory, it’s actually one of the best parts about him and one of the few things that Ties That Bind expands upon correctly. To summarize, he’s a victim of the state that fell through the cracks, pieced his life back together, and then ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. 
To be more long-winded: He was a troubled child with psychiatric problems who lost both of his parents in a car accident. With no living relatives beyond his parents, he was placed into the Garvey Children’s Home, where the conditions were less than ideal. A mixture of strain, trauma, loneliness, and desperation prompted his brain to divide up into three: himself, Blackmore, and The Creature. Then, left to navigate life and his own mental health on his own, he ended up falling in with some very bad crowds.
He became a drug dealer. He got in a lot of altercations. He was in and out of prison. This only stopped when he met his wife and became a family man, and began to consciously put forth the effort to right himself. He had two sons, had everything under control… and then ended up in prison again when the guy he used to work for on the streets hired a man to come pay him a visit at his friend’s bar and press every last one of his buttons until he snapped. He wound up in prison, his wife divorced him, and everyone assumed he’d end up back to his old tricks.
Except… he didn’t go back to being a drug dealer. He got a job at a gym instead. He stayed on the right track. He started reconciling with his ex-wife who, right before the events of the first game, moved back in with him. 
This didn’t sit well with the men Torque used to run with, especially not the guy he used to work for… so a hit was ordered on him and his family. He wasn’t home when it was carried out. He walked in, found his wife and kids dead, and passed out in his apartment from the shock, where the police found him after receiving a tip.
He was bloody. He was disoriented. He was known to be a repeat offender. They pinned the whole thing on him and, after a very unfair trial, he was sentenced to death.
The first day he arrives in prison--located on scenic Carnate Island--the ground opens up and monsters begin sweeping over the land. Convenient.
- Wait, this bitch has alters?
Yeah. This… isn’t really a part of the game that’s handled well, but it’s interesting. There’s a lot of weirdness going on with Torque (remember that supernatural bend I mentioned?), and one of the two is… well, I’m not sure he’s an alter at all.
First, there’s Torque himself who is just a short-tempered, easily frustrated, but generally reasonable guy who really just wanted to keep his head above water. Secondly, there’s The Creature, a defense mechanism and literal monster that is incapable of communication and rears its head whenever he feels threatened. Physically threatened, generally, which resulted in The Creature being a bit violent. Torque has a pretty extensive arrest record and most of his arrests seem to revolve around “punched a guy at an inopportune time.”
Blackmore is more complicated, because he isn’t really clear. You see, there’s a snippet of dialogue in the second game and a lot of environmental storytelling that indicates that Torque is supernaturally gifted somehow (something he likely inherited from his mother), and that some of his mental illnesses are actually paranormal interference. Blackmore is the biggest gray area, because while he is presented as an alter, he… very much defies that. 
He’s presented as a presence that Torque experiences externally and that only he can see (not really uncommon; Torque hallucinates pretty frequently throughout the game), but he also seems to be aware and consciously trying to control Torque. When that fails, he settles for trying to find a way to take over Torque’s body permanently. He’s capable of actually getting in physical altercations with Torque, but at the same time can hijack his body to do things he wouldn’t normally be able to do. He honestly smacks more of something Torque is possessed by instead of something his brain came up with itself, made all the more obvious by the fact that the final battle in the second game is literally Torque and Blackmore beating the everloving hell out of each other after Torque consciously realizes that nobody can perceive Blackmore but him.
But at the same time, that guy that Torque worked for that ordered the hit on his family? That’s Blackmore. There’s a lot of talk about how nobody has ever seen Blackmore (indicating he only communicated via writing or phone or what have you), and it’s all… very, very stupid. It’s one of those things in TTB that made me throw up my hands and go, “Well, sure. Okay. Let’s just do that, then. That makes perfect sense thanks.”
(I do not like most of Ties That Bind.)
- Okay, so he’s supernatural somehow?
Mm-hm. Again, it’s never explicitly stated, but heavily implied through some dialogue from my second favorite character in the game (DR. Q.L. KILLJOY, MOTHERFUCKER) and just the way the story plays out. 
Carnate Island erupts with a bad case of monsters the second Torque sets foot on the island. A prologue you unlock after you beat the game once reveals that Torque actually hallucinated the first game’s end boss before he even saw it, indicating he has some precognitive abilities. The sentient spirits of both games know who Torque is and take a special interest in him, and plenty make allusions that they’re “more alike” than he thinks. Blackmore is very clearly paranormal in origin and seems to even be able to command the monsters in some way. 
Hell, Dr. Killjoy even implies at the end of the first game that Torque is somehow making all of this happen and, only by tackling the root of his problems, can he make everything stop.
While there’s never been an active fandom for this game, I used to associate with a small group of fans, and there was actually a lot of discussion/disagreements about whether Torque actually had any form of psychosis or if maybe he had latent psychic abilities he couldn’t control. Seeing things all the time, causing things to accidentally happen that nobody would believe; it’d be easy to be chalked up with a disorder when there’s no way to know or prove what you’re experiencing is Real Shit.
- Why do you hate Ties That Bind so much?
Because of the way it improperly handles a bunch of mental health stuff that the first game wisely didn’t actually touch on much beyond acknowledging the fact that This Guy Are Sick.
Prison is Hell makes it very evident that Torque has psychiatric problems but never dwells on it overmuch. There’s even an entire chapter of the game that takes place in an old asylum with an early 1900s alienist ghost (DR. KILLJOY) trying to diagnose and “treat” Torque, and it still is mostly hinged on the horrors of old-timey treatment of mentally ill patients than anything about Torque. That and Dr. Killjoy’s misguided good intent (that dude deserves a whole essay of his own, to be honest).
Instead of hammering it home that he has Issues and deciding to talk too much about Issues, it just treats Torque like a human being. Your main goal is getting off the island and saving stragglers along the way, all of which react to Torque just the same way they would to anyone. COs will either be authoritative or condescending. Fellow inmates will be suspicious but more likely to work with him. Everyone is always gracious for his help, and nobody makes any odd remarks about anything weird he does (barring when The Creature shows up; then, they just remark on, “DUDE HOW IN THE FUCK?” because you find out, later on, that all they see is Torque getting in fist fights with things twice his size and winning).
Torque is just Torque. He just do what Torque do.
Ties That Bind then goes barreling into a bunch of tired tropes and tries to make a convoluted twist ending, and then there’s the whole matter of the secret underground organization that wants to capture Torque and have been working with Blackmore and you end up fighting a helicopter and some SWAT-looking motherfuckers and… they try so much harder to be edgy and gritty and it’s really fucking stupid.
The only good things you get out of it are some further snippets into Torque’s backstory (appreciated), the return of Dr. Q.L. Killjoy (always welcome), and a set of monsters known as Gorgers (they make purr-gle sounds when they eat and I love them).
Oh, and Consuela. She is mentioned in the first game and actually shows up in the second, and I can respect any woman who gets captured by an evil paramilitary organization and, immediately upon being rescued, takes the biggest gun she can find, looks you dead in the eye, and says, “I’m going to steal a fucking boat, drive it straight into a warzone, and rescue my goddamn husband. You with me or not?”
She is literally some female parallel to Torque and my headcanon is they are bros.
- Anything else?
Yeah. The soundtrack for the game is pretty awesome and ended up inspiring some other music in a couple of other video games of the time (Mortal Kombat: Armageddon immediately comes to mind). They actually rigged up some pretty cool contraptions to make unique sounds and ambience using shit like scrap metal and garbage, and the results are pretty fucking cool.
Favorites of mine are the boss themes for Hermes, and Dr. Killjoy, with Dr. Killjoy’s being my absolute favorite of all of them. The main theme of the game is pretty great, too, and is probably the most iconic of all of the songs on the OST. I’ve even heard it used in stuff where I doubt people knew what the hell The Suffering was, lol.
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davaia · 4 years
Text
Tagged by @sanerontheinside! If you’re reading this, consider yourself likewise tagged.
Too lazy to link but here we go.
Fandoms: Star Wars, unposted Overwatch
Number of fics: ~11 posted, another ~13 unposted
Fic I spent the most time on: Probably Wharf & Water
Fic I spent the least time on: A Worthy Sacrifice
Longest fic: Patrician (67,577 WIP)
Shortest fic: The Road Beneath the Snow (1,392)
Most hits & kudos: Patrician (11,236 hits); Wharf & Water (727 kudos)
Most comment threads: Patrician (176)
Most bookmarks: Scarif Sunrise (263)
Total word count: 222,166
Favorite fic: I love them all, but Techie’s One Thing is still my baby
Fic I most want to expand on/rewrite: rewrite Patrician, expand on Point Cloud Reliquary
Share a bit of a wip/story idea you’re working on:
[disclaimer: unbeta’d first draft, highly likely to change]
Qui-Gon flipped through the pages, eyebrows creeping up into his hairline. "Who the hell could even pilot something like this?"
"Owen and Ben Kenobi," Mace answered. "We lost the jaeger before we’d formally announced them as the team on it."
"Christ," Qui-Gon muttered, running through the schematics. "The neural compatibility threshold is—astronomical."
"It was pure luck finding them—pair of identical twin wunderkinds. The North Atlantic Branch plucked them out of some shithole neighborhood in north London when their first-level aptitude scores came in. Nine years old and they were an order a magnitude higher than our top cadets," Mace said. "Brought them into the Academy after the dad demanded eighty-grand to take them off his hands."
"The PPDC buying children now?" Qui-Gon’s expression was dark. "Not enough recruits coming in off the streets?"
"Don’t moralize at me. If he was so eager to offload his own kids, you think their old man wouldn’t have done worse for less?" Mace asked, unbothered. "Those two took to it like nothing we’d ever seen. Six kills by the age of twenty-two. They were extraordinary."
"Were?"
"Next page."
"Jesus," Qui-Gon bit out, faced with the mangled wreckage of the Desert Sage.
"Sidious. The first Class V kaiju on record. Emerged from the Caribbean Breach south of Cuba four months ago. Desert Sage held out for forty-three minutes before Sidious crippled it with a targeted EMP that knocked out power on everything between Havana and San Juan," said Mace. "Another seven before he took a chunk right out of the pilot rig. Owen died on impact."
"Ben?"
"Survived."
Qui-Gon felt sick. He dragged a hand over his face, rubbed his over his mouth, stared down at the young men in the picture. "How much of him?"
"Kid couldn’t remember his own name for the first week. Another month before he could walk again. He suffers from post-traumatic epilepsy, but, cognitively speaking, he’s made nearly a full recovery."
Qui-Gon’s skepticism was palpable. "You want me to, what? Mentor him? Co-pilot with him?"
Mace sighed and looked vaguely put-upon. "I just want you to help him. You’re the only one left who’s survived a neural tear."
Qui-Gon was silent for a moment. "…du Crion?"
"Hanged himself in a locker room six years ago," Mace said flatly. "Marya went two years later from an accidental opiates overdose. "
"Christ." Qui-Gon dragged a hand over his beard, then scrubbed at the bristles on his cheek, gaze unfocused. He hadn’t been friends with them—not exactly, and not enough to stay in touch—but there’s been an undeniable, and perhaps much deeper, bond between them all. Between the survivors.
Survivor, Qui-Gon thought bitterly. The only one on earth for four whole years, and he hadn’t even known it. Hadn’t known, until he wasn’t anymore.
"Yeah, alright," Qui-Gon said on the back of a heavy sigh. "Figure I owe you one."
"You don’t owe me shit, and fuck you for thinking you do," Mace said, but he didn’t sound angry. 
More tired than anything, if Qui-Gon had to hazard a guess. He softened his expression, meeting the exhaustion in Mace’s voice with his own, matching smile. "I’d do it either way."
"How’s your Spanish?"
"It’s shit. Where are you sending me?"
12 notes · View notes
shaineybainey · 4 years
Text
“Noble Intentions”
Lab Rats [T]
The Lab Rats and Mighty Med teams face off with the greatest threat to humanity yet: The Incapacitator, a supervillain bent on becoming the most powerful in the planet. …Which makes things super awkward for Leo, considering that their newest nemesis is his father. AU. Lab Rats vs Mighty Med redux.
** DISCLAIMER: SEE CHAPTER ONE FOR DISCLAIMER **
XII: Blank
“Leo!”
Leo steps back as Bree and Adam excitedly come in for a hug. He holds his hands out, hoping to slow them down.
Thankfully, they heed his warning and slow to a puzzled stop. “Broken ribs. It still kind of hurts,” he tells them.
“So, no hugs?” Adam asks sadly.
“Yes hugs, but a very, very gentle one.”
Adam grins at that. Then, he carefully embraces his younger brother, Bree following him soon after.
Behind them, Donald and Tasha exchange warm albeit weary smiles.
“We were so worried about you,” Bree tells Leo as they disengage. “Douglas couldn’t find you, and I was worried that you’ve gotten hurt.”
“Actually, we were kind of worried that you’ve been offed.”
“Adam.”
Leo chuckles half-heartedly. During his check-up, his parents filled him in on what his siblings have learned. They also told him that they’re confused, a little hurt that he didn’t say anything about his father, but in general they’re more concerned about him.
“He won’t hurt me,” Leo assures them. “I know he’s supposed to be a bad guy, but at least with me he won’t do anything like that. Actually, he saved—”
“What happened to you?” Bree asks, eyeing the brace wrapped around his torso. “That looks horrible. He didn’t do that to you. Did he?”
Leo scoffs impatiently, the smile on his face lifting. “Incapacitator is my dad. I know you know,” he says, bridling impatience. “You can just ask that. You don’t have to keep calling him ‘he.’ Just ask if my dad hurt me.”
“Oh. Uh…” Bree looks at their parents, and it wakes Leo up to how tired he has gotten. He’s snappy because he’s been awake for way too long.
He guesses he’s running on about four hours of sleep. It’s just right after lunch now, about 1 PM, so he’d been up for nearly half a day without so much a nap or breakfast or a break from worrying about his father.
Leo sighs. “I’m sorry, Bree. I don’t mean to be mean. I’m just - I’m tired.” He tries to smile. “Thanks for worrying about me. I’m safe now, though. It’s probably better if we worry about Chase.”
Bree nods hesitantly. She wants to ask a question, but eventually thinks the better of it. “Okay.”
“The superheroes won’t tell us what happened,” Adam says. “We only found out from the guy with the big head that they found you when he told Mr. Davenport and Tasha you were here.”
“Adam, it’s not very nice to describe Philip that way,” Bree says.
“Oh, I wasn’t talking about Philip. I was talking about the first one that came here, the one with the white lab coat on. You know, the one that you’ve been flirting with?”
“Stop,” Bree tells him as he smirks. “Oliver doesn’t have a big head.”
“Yes he does. He’s cocky, just like Chase.”
Bree’s frown turns thoughtful. Then, her features wrinkle in disgust. She swats Adam’s arm. “Gross! He is nothing like Chase.”
“He is too like Chase.”
“Okay, it may not be a good idea to argue in front of your brother right now, especially when his life is still hanging on the balance?” Donald chimes in.
Leo looks, and on the hospital bed he finds his older brother still unconscious. Their parents told him that they still haven’t found a solution to wake Chase up – and they’re running out of time. “I promise, I didn’t know he was coming to the island either,” he unknowingly mutters to Chase.
“We know.”
Leo turns towards his family, confused.
Bree smiles sadly. “Douglas showed us the text messages.”
“Yeah,” Adam adds. “Plus, it just won’t make sense for you to be working with a villain – even if he is your dad.”
“Wait. You went through my phone?”
Eyes widen. Bree and Adam, surprised, turn to their parents for help.
Tasha’s shoulder sags as she sighs. “We had to, honey. We couldn’t find you.”
“Right. You told the superhero world who I was, too.”
“I didn’t know Joel—” Tasha pauses to regather her thoughts. “I didn’t know your father was a bad guy, okay? I didn’t even know you knew him and kept in contact with him all these years. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because he told me not to tell you. Because I liked the idea that I’m not that kid anymore who didn’t have a dad, the kid who would have no one to show up for him when there are school things.”
His mother stares at him, stuck in the weird fence of hurt and frustrated.
Like the look he saw from Bree earlier, Leo doesn’t like this either. This time, though, he can’t blame the exhaustion. “I know I should have told you, but I liked having him around,” he adds. “And I know to the superheroes, he’s a terrible person, but he had never gotten me involved in any of it. He’s been a good dad, mom. A weird guy sometimes for sure, but a good dad.”
Tasha seems torn for the longest. She takes his countenance in, as she always does when she’s weighing whether a person or a situation is a danger to him, before gesturing to him. “You still haven’t answered Bree’s question about what happened to you.”
“Uh, we were caught in a rumble.”
“A rumble?” Adam asks.
“Yeah. What the superheroes and villains call a fight with more than two fighters.”
“Oh!”
“Somebody put out a hit on Dad.” Leo catches the flicker of worry in his mother’s face and oddly finds it comforting. He looks at his stepfather. “The Incapacitator was the first to get to the energy transponder, but he isn’t the only one who wants it. Slither, Sonic Shriek, The Ambusher, and this guy who looked like a mobster came to take it away from Dad. I even heard about someone named Mr. Terror. She wants it too.”
“Dude,” Adam says, an excited grin forming on his mouth. “You know other super villains too?”
“I mean, Incapacitator I understand why he would want it,” Donald says, frowning thoughtfully. “He told me – us. But why do the other people want it?”
“I don’t know. Sonic Shriek said he wants to see it because he considers your invention a rip-off of his invention...”
“It is not!”
“...but the others I’m not sure. All I know is that they were all willing to eliminate us for it.”
“I’m sorry to ask this,” says Bree, “but what happened to your dad? Where is he?”
Leo takes a deep breath, the anxiety that ebbed far enough earlier reaching back for him again. “He…He left—”
“He left you in the middle of a fight?!” Tasha screeches.
Leo fights the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes.” And I’m worried about why he did that. “I don’t know if he still has the transponder, though. It was a war zone at Nana’s and Pop’s house when Tecton and the rest of the League took me. “
“Nana’s and Pop’s?” Donald repeats. “You were at your grandparents’ house?”
“Yeah.” He looks at his mom and adds, “He always talked about his parents. They’ve been long gone, but he’d been taking care of their house because it was important to him.”
It takes a little longer, but the anger in his mother’s eyes slowly softened.
“At least, he tried to. The house is probably in shreds,” he sighs. His eyes narrow. “None of them ever really said who put out a hit on us. Dad suspected Mr. Terror, but her minion said it’s not her.”
“Mr. Terror is involved?”
The family turns to the door. There, Tecton, Gamma Girl, and Skylar Storm stand.
Leo glances at his parents first, unsure how to answer. “Tecton. You look well-rested.”
“I am.”
“Nice. That makes one of us.”
“You mentioned Mr. Terror,” Tecton prompts again. “Gamma Girl and Blue Tornado saw his main lackey at the scene. Did he want the transponder, too?”
Leo nods slowly as he tries to recall. “Yeah, my dad thinks so.” He chuckles. “Although, Mr. Terror is a woman. She wants the transponder.”
“No, we have Mr. Terror on record as a man,” Gamma Girl corrects. “A spy had been on the phone with him before.”
“That’s true! In the comics, he’s a man!”
The wall of superheroes awkwardly parts as the two teenage doctors wiggle their way into the room. Kaz, the first one in, grins back at the trio. “I’m sorry, Tecton, Gamma Girl – we gotta check in on our patient.”
“What Kaz said is right,” Oliver tells Leo. “Mr. Terror is a man. Everyone in the superhero world knows that.”
“Well, apparently the superhero world is behind,” Leo says. “My dad may be on the bad side, but one thing he’s not bad at is doing detective work. Joel Jones is thorough. If he says Mr. Terror is a woman, she’s a woman.”
“Why does he have information on her?” Gamma Girl asks.
Leo shrugs. “Like I said, he doesn’t tell me anything. He leaves me out of his plans because he knows I don’t want to know.” Then, he frowns.
“What?” says Adam.
Leo gauges the room first. He’s learned that even the most insignificant-seeming piece of information can turn an outcome around. It appeared harmless at the time, but…
Knowing that suspicion is starting to mount, he turns towards Chase’s doctors. “When is Chase going to wake up? He should be okay now.”
Kaz and Oliver exchange confused glances. “Uh, we’re still trying to find a cure,” Oliver says. “To his condition.”
“His condition.”
“Yeah…?”
Leo frowns. They’re qualified for the job, aren’t they? Mighty Med’s never been one to hire on doctors that lack the skill and the knowledge for the job.
Still, the deer caught in the headlights look on their eyes diminishes his confidence in the hospital a little.
“I get it. It’d been better if Chase was awake,” he says anyway. “The only person who can solve a Chase problem is Chase.”
“Leo, we need to talk to you,” Gamma Girl tells him.
Leo doesn’t have to ask why; he already knows.
“He hasn’t had time to rest,” Tasha comes to his rescue. “He hasn’t slept, hasn’t eaten. Can’t this wait?”
“We won’t take long, we promise,” Tecton says. The look he gives Leo weighs heavy with desperation. “If the same people that showed up at the house find your father again, there might be another rumble. Thankfully, no one was hurt from the one this morning. We can’t guarantee the next one.”
Leo knows what he has to do. Still, it holds him back – the one worry he’s been carrying since he left Kansas earlier. “Dad said he’s in a line of work where people make him retire. If I help you, won’t I be helping you in that? My dad, I don’t want him to...retire.”
A somber expression comes over Gamma Girl’s face. Meanwhile, Skylar only looks up to Tecton for the next move.
Tecton thinks about it a moment. Then, he cases the room and determines quickly that there are too many eyes and too many ears for this kind of conversation. “It’s probably better if we talk about this in private,” he says.
Leo debates it. When he was just assisting his stepsiblings, he doesn’t have to think too far ahead to know what’s the right thing to do. Thankfully, they’re still beginners in this game, and while things can get a little complicated, they’re not that tangled.
But the world of superheroes and super villains is a different world entirely. It’s a game of chess, where every player’s very rarely inept at the game.
It sends a nervous energy all throughout his body. All over again, it makes him hurt. It also scares him, because he’s not as good as this as his father.
But something in him moves him to try. It’s the only thing to do at this point.
He nods. “I’ll be right back,” he tells his parents.
Though puzzled, they nod.
With every limb in his body weighing heavier with every step, he follows the superheroes to wherever they plan on taking him. He still remembers his father giving him a kiss on the forehead and telling him everything will be alright and that he loves him.
Where are you, Dad? Leo wonders. I need you right now. Where are you?
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johannesviii · 4 years
Text
Top 12 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2013
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The best year in a trio of awesome years for hits. So awesome, in fact, I had to leave several excellent songs out of the list, even with two additional slots, and limit the list to songs I actually put on my mp3 player at one point or another.
What’s that? People usually call it a bad year? Well screw them.
Disclaimers:
Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.
Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.
My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.
I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.
The year I stopped working in Paris, found a job closer to home that finally made me feel helpful in the grand scheme of things, and I finally had more free time. Goodbye daily trains. I also went to some concerts! This never happened before.
2013: also the year when just about every band and artist I liked decided to make a good album. Except Depeche Mode. Depeche Mode made Delta Machine. It wasn’t great. But, uh, let’s see, Placebo made Loud Like Love (with the fantastic A Million Little Pieces), VNV Nation made Transnational, Daft Punk made Random Access Memories... Nine Inch Nails came back with Hesitation Marks, which is pretty great with a couple of fantastic songs. Lady Gaga made the vastly underrated ArtPop! Even Eminem made a pretty decent album! Eminem! In the year of our lord 2013! And The 1975 made their debut album. They would eventually become one of my favorite bands of the 2010s, but not yet, though. And Indochine redeemed themselves by releasing Black City Parade, their absolute best album of the decade.
However, despite Indochine’s excellent effort and the return of Nine Inch Nails, the album of the year, at least to me, was Kveikur by Sigur Rós. At that point, I had been following their stuff for ten years, and this album still blew my goddamn mind. It’s so heavy and dark and so different from what they had been doing since Agaetis Byrjun. It’s loud and textured and industrial and yet, there’s so much light above the dark. They out-NIN’ed Nine Inch Nails. There isn’t a single track I don’t love on this album. It’s their best one in my humble opinion.
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As far as unelligible songs go, boy, where do I start. Uh. Copy of A and Came Back Haunted (Nine Inch Nails), certainly, A Million Little Pieces (Placebo) as I already mentioned, Memoria and College Boy (Indochine - I’m actually shocked they aren’t on the French top 100), Chocolate by The 1975, and most infuriating of all, Castle of Glass by Linkin Park, which is imho their best song of the 2010s. Oh well.
But there’s still a shit ton of stuff which was elligible but didn’t make the list. Here’s a lot of honorable mentions. There were like ten more of them initially, mind you.
Sirens Call (Cats On Trees) - You know how in just about every top ten post I’ve made so far, there’s a song where I’m like “if I had better taste this would be higher”? This is this song for 2013.
Don’t You Worry Child (Swedish House Mafia) - Catchy but borderline annoying. Still very good.
Counting Stars (One Republic) - This is so happy and catchy. More songs like this nowadays, please.
I Cry (Flo Rida) - Still elligible. Still great. Still not on the list.
Ho Hey (The Lumineers) - Same thing here, sadly.
Animals (Martin Garrix) - I called Bangarang from the previous list a perfect stim song, and this is in the same ballpark. Not as good, but great shapes and colors all around.
Berserk (Eminem) - That song has a lot of really bad lines, but also a lot of much needed energy, it’s a ton of fun, and I love the “say f█ck it before you kick the bucket” part of the chorus. I was so glad to hear Eminem having fun again. Would certainly have made the list in a more mediocre year. Not the most infuriating thing I had to leave out of the list, though.
Radioactive (Imagine Dragons) - THIS IS IT THE APOCALYPSE OH WOHO no I don’t have anything intelligent to say, it’s just great.
Best Song Ever (One Direction) - This is my favorite song from that band. It might be because it sounds suspiciously like Baba O’Riley. If you think I’m gonna complain about people ripping off good songs, please check my entry about I Gotta Feeling by The Black Eyed Peas a few top 10s before this one.
Wait. Waiiit. What if the “best song ever” they can’t remember in the lyrics WAS Baba O’Riley?? Wouldn’t that be the best meta song ever? What do you think? I mean, that one could indeed claim the title of best song ever.
Get Lucky (Daft Punk) - I know. I know. But I couldn’t put it on the list. It’s not my favorite song from the album, it was overplayed, and even if it’s extremely good it stays roughly at the same level for the entirety of the song. I love it, but I had to draw the line somewhere and cut the list. I didn’t want to make another top 15.
Carry On (fun.) - This was the last cut from the list. It was a really painful one. Not my favorite song from them, but still very, very good.
There’s been lists where I had to put filler. If I had to put actual grades to them, some songs I put on some lists would get a 6/10 or even a 5/10 for really bad years (looking at you 1990). Sometimes, I had to put stuff I’d grade 7/10 as high as #3.
If I had to grade this 2013 list according to my personal taste in music, #12 would get an 8/10, #11 would get a 9/10, and everything in the top ten would either be a 9,5 or a 10. No joke. That’s how good that year was for hits.
Let’s go.
12 - My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark (Light’Em Up) (Fall Out Boy)
US: #40 / FR: Not on the list
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There you have it. Three songs from a band I consider pretentious asshats ended on my lists. Including this one, in a year where I decided to severely limit my options for songs. And at the time? I thought it was just an okay song, way too slow but okay. Not great. At all.
It took it about three whole years to grow on me, and it also took me a while to actually know what it was about, and as I said previously, framing is everything ; knowing this song basically said “we’re back, and we’ve changed, and you’re not gonna like it so you’re gonna feel betrayed and you’re gonna burn your old posters, and in the end you’re also gonna betray us” makes it a lot, lot better. I especially love the “Burn everything you love then burn the. ashes” line with the weird pause for emphasis.
It just goes stomp, stomp, stomp. It’s heavy. You can’t dance to it. You can’t even have fun while listening to it. But you can certainly stomp along, and feel angry, and, yes, betrayed, and three years after 2013, I certainly needed that kind of song. A lot. You know exactly why.
11 - Burn (Ellie Goulding)
US: Not on the list / FR: #54
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I discovered Doctor Who at the very, very end of 2013, and for some reason I associate this song with Martha’s journey during the year that never was at the end of S3, trying to convince the entire Earth to fight back against the Master. That’s all I have to say about this song. It’s great.
10 - Instant Crush (Daft Punk ft Julian Casablancas)
US: Not on the list / FR: #26
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So yep, Get Lucky isn’t my favorite song on Random Access Memories, and thank you French charts for allowing me to put this one on the list instead.
Like a ton of people, I couldn’t figure out what the chorus was, apart from a couple of isolated words, and that felt exactly like being 10 and trying to decipher songs with my limited English. And then I checked the lyrics, and they were mostly variations on “I don’t want to be alone” and they rhyme “go” with “go”, so, uh, nothing of value was lost that day. And it still sounds fantastic.
9 - Applause (Lady Gaga)
US: #37 / FR: #66
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Yes, there’s some really stupid shit in the lyrics and the theme of the song itself isn’t particularly inspiring, but that chorus is a happy burst of fuzzy bright angular shapes, and it’s so energetic it feels like you could phase through walls by sheer force of will while listening to it. It would be even higher if the lyrics were better, I swear.
8 - Papaoutai (Stromae)
US: Not on the list / FR: #4
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And the boss of cleverly written hit songs strikes again. Pretty sure that one, like Alors On Danse, is well known even if you don’t speak French. As I understand it, apparently French teachers like to use it in class. But yeah, just in case: it’s a song about his absent father. My favorite part:
Un jour ou l'autre on sera tous papas (One day or another we’ll be dads) Et d'un jour à l'autre, on aura disparu (And one day or the next, we’ll be gone) Serons-nous détestables? (Will we be despicable?) Serons-nous admirables? (Will we be admirable?) Des géniteurs ou des génies (Parents or geniuses) Dites-nous qui donne naissance aux irresponsables? (Tell us who birthes irresponsible people?) Ah, dites-nous qui, tiens (Ah, tell us who ; weird) Tout le monde sait comment on fait des bébés (Everybody knows how to make babies) Mais personne ne sait comment on fait des papas (But nobody knows how to make dads)
And it’s also horribly catchy. And it was kind of a meme here. It was everywhere. I’m surprised it wasn’t even higher than that on the French year end top 100.
7 - Underwater (Mika)
US: Not on the list / FR: #70
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Why do I love this song so much even though I usually hate songs like that. This is the kind of romantic bullshit Robbie Williams does, and for the record I absolutely hate Angels, and Underwater even sounds a bit like Angels, and it also has the same kind of corny central metaphor. So. Why do I love Underwater again? How can I justify this? I’ve got no clue.
We don’t deserve Mika.
6 - I Need Your Love (Calvin Harris ft Ellie Goulding)
US: #56 / FR: #51
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By now you must all be extremely tired of reading me describing songs in visual ways but this song is the sound equivalent of some sort of light show mixed with Dance Dance Revolution patterns. It’s incredibly kinetic and full of joyful, glittering energy, and I love it so goddamn much.
As a 90s kid who loved eurodance, I’m incredibly grateful this kind of music still exists and is still charting.
5 - Treasure (Bruno Mars)
US: #30 / FR: #23
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Speaking of nostalgia. Well, not really, since I wasn’t born in the era this is trying to mimic, but still. I don’t have anything to say about this, apart maybe from the fact this is the song that finally made me like Bruno Mars.
4 - Hey Brother (Avicii)
US: Not on the list / FR: #18
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I already mentioned how much I loved Avicii’s music when I briefly talked about Levels, and Hey Brother is even better. As you might know I have a little brother and as it is often the case with siblings we fought a bit but we also shared a lot of things, and games, and weird private jokes, and yeah that song can occasionally make me cry a fair bit if I’m being honest.
Also, it’s kind of my main theme song for Charley and C’rizz, so, yeah, it’s just another layer of Feelings(tm).
3 - I Will Wait (Mumford & Sons)
US: #52 / FR: Not on the list
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As you might have noticed, there’s one genre that is conspicuously absent from my lists as far as the US hit songs are concerned, and that’s country. I’ve got nothing against country music, I just rarely find it visually interesting. Now I do like folk rock on the other hand, but its big era is long gone, and it’s quite rare to hear anything from it in the charts nowadays. I liked Ho Hey by the Lumineers, but I always thought it was a little bit too slow.
And then I found Babel by Mumford & Sons at the library, gave it a try, loved it, felt like discovering a modern band version of Bob Dylan with simpler lyrics, and this isn’t my favorite song on the album and it’s still at #3 on this list. Quality, man, just quality.
My favorite song from the album is Lover of the Light, by the way.
2 - Can’t Hold Us (Macklemore & Ryan Lewis)
US: #5 / FR: #8
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Sometimes you need angry fight songs, sometimes you need energetic fight songs, and sometimes you need happy fight songs. And when something combines the last two, it’s like you caught a star in a Mario game and you’re f█cking unstoppable.
If Macklemore doesn’t get more hit songs at some point in the near future I’m gonna punch a wall.
1 - Roadgame (Kavinsky)
US: Not on the list / FR: #44
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This song has no music video. It was still an enormous hit.
As you may recall, I already said once or twice that I liked to hang out at the disc store after class while I was in highschool and uni, and it still happened regularly after I started to work. Even nowadays, if I had a really, really bad day, there’s a good chance I’ll go there and spend at least an hour there just listening to stuff.
So here I was, one fine (actually bad) day, and this song was playing, and I was mesmerised, and for the first time ever, I felt the need to find a vendor and ask what was playing. I found one and the guy instantly beamed and went “oooooh I picked that album to play it in the store today! :D That’s Kavinsky, he’s great, here, have a listen” but it was already getting late so... I trusted him and basically bought the album blind.
Best decision ever. On top of being one of the best albums of the 2010s, OutRun is a concept album presented as if it was the soundtrack of a movie that never existed, about a young guy getting killed in a car crash in 1986 and somehow fusing with his car mentally and reappearing as some sort of technological zombie in 2006. And Roadgame is one of the best songs on the album if not the best. Well, my favorite song on it is actually Testarossa Autodrive, but you get my point.
I was like “there’s no way this is going to be big”, and I was dead wrong, thankfully. As a big fan of electronic music full of lights and flashes and colors but with dark overtones, I couldn’t be happier about this being one of the sounds of the year. Just fantastic stuff.
It’s 2020, man. Please drop that second album. We’re ready to have our minds blown all over again. Just do it.
Also, thank you random vendor from the disc store.
Next up: I have no idea why some people call 2014 a really bad year for hit songs tbh
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kegthoth-rha · 4 years
Text
Sore: Chapter 2
First Chapter
CW: Swearing, mentions of sexual assault
Word count: 1872
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Kaye woke up from her slumber in a sweat.  She’s always had nightmares when moving, but it seems like a new method of torture has been introduced into her brain.  One specifically related to this move. She calms herself down, and heads to the kitchen to put coffee on. Once the coffee’s done, she goes out to the back patio to have a cigarette.  She’s been trying to quit, and has been mostly successful.  Dreams like that, however, just fuck with her in quite a few ways, so she keeps a pack around.  After her cigarette is done, Amie walks outside, and sits near her.
“Bad night?” Amie asks
“Yeah.  Wasn’t worse than anything you’ve heard, but definitely a new one.” Kaye responds.
“Ahh, that’s not good.” Amie says.
“You’re telling me. Although, I do still feel like I’ve slept, so that’s a plus.” Kaye says with a moderate tone of sarcasm.
“You always do.  Excited to see the condo?” Amie asks, switching the subject.
“Yes!  The fact that I can afford to buy is wonderful, too.  Gonna be nice to be able to rip the carpet up instead of just having to deal with it.”  Kaye says, bouncing up and down lightly.
“Woah.  Did you just act excited?!  Who are you, and what have you done with my Kaye?”  Amie asks, genuinely shocked at the display of excitement.  In all of the years they’ve known each other, Amie has not once known Kaye to show any kind of emotion beyond neutral.
“Huh.  I guess so?  This is weird.” Kaye responds, also genuinely confused at her willingness to show the emotions.  That’s something she’s always struggled with.
Amie giggles and says, “Maybe it’s the dress.”
Kaye looks down, and realizes that she is still wearing the dress she went to bed with last night.  Her face then proceeds to turn several shades of red, and you could swear a few shades of purple mixed in at some points. Amie points this out through a very poorly hidden laugh, which only serves to make the problem worse.  After another 20 minutes or so of Amie poking fun at Kaye for showing emotion for the first time, Don steps out.
“Hey, you ready to go?” Don asks Kaye.
“Oh, yeah.  Let me change into something more appropriate for heavy lifting.  I’ll be ready in ten minutes tops.”  Kaye responds, downing her coffee.
“No need to rush, I was just asking.” Don says.
Kaye runs out to the truck, and grabs a pair of canvas pants, and a flannel shirt.  For some reason, they don’t seem to fit quite as well today as they did a few days ago.  Must just be the trip.  Kaye then runs up to the box truck, and gets in.  As she waits for Don to get in his car, Amie starts knocking on her driver side window.  Kaye opens the door.
“I think you forgot something” Amie says, holding the dress out.
“No, it’s yo-” Kaye starts.
“Take it.  It’s yours. You love it, and you definitely need it more than I do.” Amie says, cutting her off.
“But-” Kaye starts.
“No.  Buts.  It’s yours.” Amie says.
Kaye grabs the dress through the window, and puts it in the passenger seat.  She then jumps down from her seat, and hugs Amie as tight as she can.  This girl has been nothing but wonderful to her, and it’s about time she starts showing some appreciation for it.  As the hug stops, Amie smiles.  Don comes out, they get in their cars, and leave.  Amie stayed behind, because she had some cleaning to do.
They pulled up to Kaye’s condo.  It was a first floor unit, which she picked out primarily for the fairly easy sound proofing she could do.  She didn’t plan to get very loud, but you never know where life will take you.  Doubly so when everything is about to change.
Before they start moving anything, they decide to walk in to tour the place.  Kaye hadn’t seen the place, and she’d been trusting Amie’s word about how well it would fit.  From what Amie said, it would be darn near perfect.  The living room was large enough that her computer could fit in the corner without obstructing too much of the room, and it had a connected half bathroom.  The master bedroom was large enough to fit a four poster bed, which wasn’t there yet, but would be one day.  The master bathroom had a corner tub that could definitely fit Kaye’s height, as well as a separate stall shower.  Finally, the spare bedroom would definitely fit all of the various implements and furniture Kaye planned.  It was perfect!
Kaye and Don began unpacking.  She didn’t have much, so it only took a solid hour. Kaye moved most of the boxes to the rooms the contents had belonged in, as did Don.
“Hey, Kaye, where do the boxes that just have a D on them go?” Don asked
“Oh, just throw them in the spare bedroom.  I’ll have to unpack everything there, since I’m gonna be kind of particular about where everything goes.” Kaye responded.
“Alright!” Don said.
As Don said that, though, the box he was carrying burst through the bottom.  What looked like a set of mountain climbing gear, plus a few other odds and ends came crashing to the floor.  Don’s focus shifted to one item in particular, though.  Settled near the top of the pile were a pair of very fuzzy white cat ears.  They had barrettes on them for attaching to the head, bells, and ribbons on them.  Don giggled a bit to himself, which drew Kaye’s attention to the mess.
“Whatcha doin’?” Kaye asks, leaning into the bedroom from the hallway.
As she stood there, her mind started racing.  Don didn’t know what she liked to do in her spare time, and this wasn’t the way she was hoping he’d find out. It’d be one thing if Amie told him, but this?!  Almost 500 feet of rope falling on the floor with cat ears smack on top.  Right in plain view.  How is she going to cover this up?  She really doesn’t feel up to the conversation right now, and she’d rather not have to go through with it until way later.  Shit shit shit!  Shit!
“What’s all of this for?” Don said.
Kaye, trying her best to maintain her composure externally, and doing a remarkable job given the night she had, and the amount of heavy shit was just moved.
“I… was in theater in college.”  Kaye said.
“I didn’t know your college had a theater program.” Don responds, puzzled.
“They don’t!  It was a local thing for college-aged kids.” Kaye says, grasping for straws
“Interesting,“ Don says, contemplating whether to believe this story or not, “You’ll have to show me a video at some point.”
“They didn’t really allow video recording a lot of the time, and I wasn’t in it for that long.” Kaye says, realizing that her story sounds less and less plausible, “Plus I mostly did lighting work.  I only had one on-stage performance.”
Really?  That’s the best she could come up with?  He’s gonna know.
“That’s too bad, but not too surprising.  You were always better with technical stuff than the arts.” Don says.
How the hell did he buy that?  That was the single stupidest excuse Kaye had ever heard from anyone, much less said.  She guesses that her friend just trusts her, or at least understands that this is a part of herself she isn’t quite ready to share yet.  
“So, that looks like all of it’s sorted.  Want to grab a few chairs?” Don asks.
“S-sure.  I’ll grab the mead.” Kaye responds.
She goes into the kitchen and grabs a bottle of the mead she brought with her.  It was a dry one that had been aged for about a year before being shipped across the country in the back of a box truck in a fairly big hurry.  While she was doing that, Don texted Amie and asked if she wanted to join them.  She didn’t, as she was just settling in for the afternoon. That was code for the bra came off, it’s not going back on, and I’m not leaving the house without it.
“Oh well, looks like it’s just us.” Don says, not too upset.
“From what she said, it seems that you two have been seeing a lot of each other lately.” Kaye says.
“Yeah.  She just quit her job, but she’s looking for another.  Last one got a bit too crazy for her to want to deal with anymore.  Thankfully she should have one soon, since she’s a damn good worker, and she has a good reference with her previous company.” Don says
“Does she?” Kaye asks.
“Yeah.  Her direct manager was awesome, it was everyone above him that was bad.” Don responds.
“I definitely know how that feels.” Kaye says, looking down slightly.
“Yeah.  Sorry for that, but it’ll hopefully get at least a little better here.” Don responds, rubbing her back.
“Thanks.” Kaye says.
“So, how’d you afford this place, anyway?  Seems like it’d be out of your pay range.” Don says, trying to lighten the mood a bit.
“One of my previous employers.  They did some particularly heinous shit, and I managed to find a lawyer willing to represent it.  I didn’t win all that much, comparatively, but it was enough to afford this place.  Should be able to get a scrap car while I’m here, too.  Outside of that, since the place is paid off, I don’t have to worry about that much. Should be able to afford it working part time, honestly.” Kaye says.
“Ahh, wish I could say the same.” Don says.
“Yeah, I wish I couldn’t, given what I went through with that place.  It’s gonna take a while to get over that.” Kaye responds.
“That’s fair.  I remember how hard it got for you.” Don responds, “I don’t see why places can’t get over that, it’s not even that b-”
“Everyone thinks I’m a rapist is why they can’t get over it.  When someone looks at you and sees nothing but an absolute degenerate, nobody wants to keep you around.  I’m honestly shocked you and Amie did, all things considered.” Kaye responds, a little annoyed.
“Honestly, things would be weird without you texting one of us at random times to vent about something.  It’s been weird to not have you randomly knock on our doors to hang out and calm down.” Don says with a chuckle.
“Hopefully that’ll start again.  I was happiest in those moments.  I felt like I was home for the first time.” Kaye responds with tears welling up in her eyes.
“Well, welcome home.” Don says, arms outstretched.
Kaye hugs him as tightly as she can, and they stay like that for a few minutes.  She cries quite a bit, but he just stands there, just like he always has.  He’s been one of the few constants to her life, and she’s very thankful for that.
“So,” Kaye says, breaking off from him, “did you want to grab a game out?”
“Sure.” Don replies.
Chapter 3
Search sbbl on my blog to find the rest of the chapters, as well!
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violetsmoak · 5 years
Text
Appetence [1/?]
AO3 Link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/20251420/chapters/47997634
Blanket Disclaimer
Summary: Red Robin is investigating the disappearance of a friend and stumbles into a spot of supernatural trouble. He doesn't expect to be saved by Jason Todd, miraculously alive five years after his death and now with the inexplicable ability to commune with the dead. Meanwhile, when Jason returned to Gotham he meant to maintain a low profile and not get involved with Bat business. That was before he found out how hot his Replacement is.
Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)
JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #cemetery #haunting #relics
Canon-Compliance: Alternate Universe; Jason still died but was not found by Talia when he was resurrected. All other events mostly follow the same chronology as New Earth continuity, with mentions made to events in New 52
Author’s Note(s): My attention span was really terrible today and I couldn't focus on either of my two other fics even though the next chapters of both are completely planned out. So I'm posting the start of the third (and final) story that I'm doing for the JayTimWeek/Month challenge. Also, I'm really excited about this one. I spent more time planning this than either of the other two and I can't wait to hear what you guys think!I've got work stuff to do tomorrow so there may not be anything updated until Friday.
Beta Reader: I’ll get back to you on that.
________________________________________________________________
The Bat-Signal cuts through the dark and hazy clouds lingering above Gotham City, and for a split-second, Jason Todd has the urge to drop everything and race for the roof of the GCPD Headquarters. It’s hard to ignore the nervous jump of excitement in his stomach, the phantom sensation of a domino mask on his face and the heavy drag of a cape at his shoulders.
Which makes no sense, since it’s been at least five years since I even wore that shit.
Taking a drag of his cigarette, the smoke mixing with the familiar summer smog, Jason turns his back on Gotham’s literal beacon of hope and steels himself against nocturnal threats of his own. The city is for the caped crew—because apparently, the Bat has a posse now, he thinks with only a hint of a bitter sneer—and Jason has been fighting in a different arena for quite some time now.
He takes a final drag of the cigarette, and then grinds it beneath his boots, and shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. It’s a weathered and worn thing that reminds him of one Willis Todd wore in one of the few memories Jason has of him that doesn’t involve alcohol or fists. He thinks it’s less pretentious looking than a trench coat and probably gives off fewer ‘creepy motherfucker’ vibes like the sartorial choices of certain other people. It’s also less likely to snag on things when he needs to make a quick exit while digging up graves.
Yeah, it’s a thing in his line of work.
Gotham Cemetery is a sprawling necropolis, as dark and forbidding now as it was the night he dug himself out of his own grave. Half a decade of Gotham-style tender, loving negligence has left the somber green hills overgrown and the majority of the old tombstones fallen or rotting.
You’d think in a city with the highest homicide rate in the country, the mayor would spring for better maintenance. Then again, it’s Gotham. The dead don’t pay taxes, so fuck ‘em.
Which…enough said.
Gotham and the world think Jason Todd-Wayne is dead and has been for five years now; in a way, it’s the truth. He’s no longer anything like the boy that was beaten to death by a psychotic clown, no longer the shrimp who fastidiously dyed his hair black and jumped into someone else’s cape and pixie boots just so he didn’t have to be his own screwup self anymore. He outgrew wanting to be Dick a long time ago, outgrew wanting to be Bruce, too, and embraced a whole new other set of skills to put him apart from them.
Most occultists and even homo magi need to put conscious effort and intent into calling up or even seeing a spirit. Ever since Jason died and then mysteriously got better, the dead appear to him as blatantly and a solid as the living.
John told him he was a fool to come back here.
“Someone with your gifts, they’ll drive you bloody mad,” his mentor warned him when he left London. “And I ain’t talking about the dead ones, neither.”
“You’re just saying that because Batman wouldn’t hold your hand that one time,” Jason retorted, shrugging off the concern. He is Gotham born and bred, his blood is in those streets, and he has always wanted to come home, even if it wasn’t necessarily to a stately manor or its inhabitants.
He clenches his fists.
Inhabitants that wasted no time in replacing him after he died. Jason was rotting away in fucking Arkham, and Bruce was shoving another kid into the tights.
If it didn’t involve seeing him, I would hunt him down and break his jaw.
He surveys the graveyard proper. The everyday observer considers cemeteries to be places of peace and eternal rest; quiet, if a little bit spooky. To Jason, they’re as gruesome as any major battlefield.
Spirits pack the way before him; some of them look relatively normal if dated by their clothes; many others are disfigured and bloody from whatever killed them, whether natural or unnatural. They clamor and crowd, eternally shouting to be heard, or screaming as they relive their deaths in their own personal purgatories.
In the beginning, that din almost drove Jason insane. Bruce’s teachings kept him rational as long as it could in the months after he woke up, and then John’s training helped him temper his own awareness further. By now, he can function almost normally, automatically filtering the voices out as he goes about his daily business; it’s only in places like this, where the dead outnumber the living, where it’s harder.
Jason reaches up, adjusting the noise filters in his ears—mechanical devices that need regular winding but are still more reliable than anything running on electricity of batteries. They’re like steampunk hearing aids, only instead of magnifying sound, they drown out the constant moan of the ghosts when he can’t do it himself. Just one of many methods of protection he’s learned over the years. Some are physical, like the prayer beads wrapped around his wrist or the bottle of holy water in his pocket; others—spells and symbols and mantras—are carved all over his body in tattoos and blood writing. Anything to keep the otherworld away.
“Personal space is a key to a medium’s sanity,” John told him once. “That and a good bottle of single malt scotch.”  
Jason ignores the moss-covered path that winds through the larger and more prominent mausoleums. He deliberately doesn’t search out the one in the distance bearing the Wayne crest—
(Still remembers the feel of his fingernails splitting against the wood of the coffin, choking on clumps of soil and insects.)
—and instead seeks a small structure much farther away. It’s in the furthest part of the cemetery, the shabby section almost hidden by overgrown willows. Half of the name above the doorway is obscured by vines, but it’s easy for him to make out the name etched into the stone with bold letters.
HAYWOOD.
According to the public record, Sheila Haywood’s body was returned to Gotham at the same time as Jason Todd’s. Bruce paid for her funeral and internment, which was just as well since she had no other family, and then she was promptly forgotten about.
By everyone except Jason, it seems.
It took some doing and a few weeks tracking down everyone that had worked at the same refugee camp as his mother, but he’d finally managed to collect what possessions she left behind. A colleague of hers had put them aside when there appeared to be nothing of actual monetary value in them.
A gold coin, small bone carvings of stylized animals, dainty trinkets of garnets, amber and lapis lazuli, a compact mirror, some seashells, a decorative fan, quartz paperweight, and a brightly colored feather. There was a picture of Willis in there, too, young and almost Jason’s double. No picture of Jason, though, but he hadn’t expected it.
He kept the picture but left the rest in the small wooden box, which he now removes from his messenger bag and sets down in front of the stone bearing his mother’s name. He follows that with various tools and ingredients. Black candles arranged in a star shape around the box, a chalice, a jar of detritus—teff seeds, driftwood and soil, all from the place where she died—that he sprinkles around in a circle, a handful of smooth obsidian stones to mark a pentagram joining the candles, the dagger John gave him for his last birthday, vials of oil and holy water.
Murmuring a few protection oaths, he shrugs off his jacket, leaving his arms bare, and then digs out a pack of matches to light the candles; flickering shadows dance across the mausoleum walls. He takes up the chalice to combine the water and oil, and then reaches for the dagger.
Hate this part.
Training to ignore pain doesn’t mean it goes away, and he grits his teeth a little as he draws his blade across his forearm, not deep enough to nick anything vital, but enough that the blood runs easily into the chalice. Without bothering to bandage the wound, Jason holds up the chalice in front of him and centers himself.
“Phantasma inrequietum, te voco,” he intones. “Eloguiorum mei audi: Sheila Haywood, te nominas!“ The stagnant air in the mausoleum starts to pick up. “In nominee creatricis, te impero, hic locum decede.” Hand over the top of the chalice, he swirls the liquid within, and then tips it into the open keepsake box. “Per sanguinem hominis et per sanguinem filii tui, non remane et apage! ”He strikes a match and lobs it into the box, not even flinching as the whole thing flares into flame; he intends to watch it until it burns to nothing.
“That’s not going to work, you know.”
“Jesus fuck!” Jason explodes, whirling to the right and glaring at the interrupter. “What did I say about sneaking up on me? Or just—showing up around me in general?”
The apparition in front of him doesn’t look impressed.
Sheila is still beautiful—or, at least, the side of her body that isn’t covered with third-degree burns and sections of pulverized bone—and still sharp. Cold, untouchable and self-interested.
But unlike the way she was before, she’s all-too present in Jason’s life now.
“Goddamn it,” he snarls, and against every lesson John has ever given him, lashes out and knocks the candles and detritus hard enough to send it skidding across the floor. “What the hell. I’ve done everything. You had last rites, your body was cremated, I just torched the things that had any value to you, why the hell won’t you just move on?”
“You’re asking the wrong questions,” Sheila replies, as always.
Jason scowls. “And of course, you can’t just tell me.”
She gazes at him balefully, and he runs a frustrated hand through his hair.
“Sheila, we’ve been over this. You can’t stay here. One, you know spirits that stick around past their time go Dark Side, and I really don’t want to have to exorcise your spectral ass. Two, it’s fucking creepy for a twenty-year-old guy to be followed around by his mother wherever he goes. What the hell is keeping you here? What more do you want from me?”
“Your forgiveness,” she tells him patiently.
“I already forgave you. Years ago.”
“You still call me Sheila.”
“That’s your name.”
“I’m your mother.”
“Who sold me out and got me murdered.”
“See? You haven’t forgiven me.”
“I have. I’m just stating a fact, Jesus…”
“Apparently the cosmic balance doesn’t agree enough to let me move on,” the ghost says dryly. “And to think, I used to be an atheist.”
“This is total bullshit,” Jason snaps, grabbing his jacket and stalking out of the mausoleum in frustration.
Three years of this mediumship crap, and neither he nor John have ever been able to figure out why the ghost of Jason’s dead mother won’t stop haunting him. Wards and sutras that keep even the nastiest spirits away from Jason don’t even phase her, and she’s inexplicably coherent.
And persistent.
As Jason stalks back through the cemetery, he can sense her in his periphery, gliding along beside him, unconcerned with his irritation.
“Can you just…stay away from me? Like you did in the beginning?” he grumbles.
“You were just learning how to communicate without going insane. I wasn’t about to disrupt that.”
“How considerate of you.”
“I try.”
“Look, I’ve had enough of the ghost-stalker thing for today. I went out of my way for this, you know. I didn’t even want to come back here. And now I’m back to the fucking drawing board.”
“It may not have been a waste of a trip,” she replies and vanishes.
“Oh, you can fuck off when it’s convenient for you,” he grumbles, though he already senses what she was speaking of.
Several yards away, a small boy, maybe eight, is clinging forlornly to an angel headstone. Translucent tears stream down his cheeks, but every now and again his face shifts, like a television caught between two channels, and his mouth widens into an unnatural smile.
Jason could have gone the rest of his life without seeing that smile again.
Still, he sighs and heads toward the kid.
“Hey,” he says, keeping his voice low and maintaining a safe distance from the boy, whose head whips up to stare at Jason in sudden fear.
“Who are you?” he asks, voice thick with tears.
“I’m Jason. You okay, kid?”
“I can’t find my mom,” the boy murmurs, wiping at his face. “I keep going looking, but I forget the way home. And then…I always end up back here.”
He sounds on the verge of tears again; it’s something Jason can understand.
With the puzzling exception of Sheila, who appears to come and go as she pleases, most ghosts are stuck in certain patterns and paths when they die, frozen in an infinite loop until they break themselves out of it or until some arbitrary higher power decides they’ve suffered enough. And for some reason, Jason can break them out of it.
“You could always try again,” he suggests. “I think you’ll manage it this time.”
The boy shudders. “There’s scary people here.”
No arguing with that.
“I know. I see them, too.” Jason glances at the headstone, scanning the name and dates. “Your name’s Cole?”
“Yeah.”
“If you’re missing, there are probably people looking for you. They might have posted something online about it. I’ll check it out, but it could take a bit.” He holds up his phone, glad to see it’s at full charge and bars; that’s hit or miss around so many ghosts. “Can you hang around here until I’m done?”
The boy nods, silent, face flicking back and forth between sadness and the unnatural smile.
Fucking Joker…
Jason does a quick search of the kid’s name, pulling up obituaries in the Gotham Gazette in the past year. It doesn’t take long for an article to pop up concerning the Joker’s latest escape and a list of the dead.
He narrows his eyes, startling the kid.
“It’s fine,” he lies. “The internet is just really slow.”
“Or our phone is really bad,” Cole tells him with the blunt honesty of a kid that grew up constantly surrounded by functional technology.
“Everyone’s a critic…”
Another quick search for the parents, phone lists and social media, and he’s got an address. Crime Alley, of course. He brings it up on his map and enables a view of the street, holding the phone out to the boy. “Is this your house?”
Relief settles and settles over his face. “Yeah.”
“What if I helped you find your way home?”
Cole makes a suspicious face. “I’m not supposed to go anywhere with strangers.”
“Which is really smart. But you see, I’m not really a stranger.”
“Oh yeah? Why not?”
“Well, I’ll let you in on a secret.” Jason bends down, conspiratorial, and Cole’s eyes gleam the way any kid gets when hearing a secret. “When I was a little older than you…I was Robin.”
The boy gapes. “Like…Batman and Robin?”
“Exactly.”
“No way!”
“Way,” Jason smirks, crossing his arms. “And I’ll tell you all about it on the way to your house. Including the time that I stole the wheels off the Batmobile.”
“No way!”
Despite his scandalized disbelief, the kid is obviously hooked.
Jason’s heart clenches a bit at the open curiosity on Cole’s face, the reality hitting him that this boy will never have a chance to do anything mischievous or fun ever again.
From one dead boy to another, this sucks…
As he leads him out of the cemetery, Jason starts to tell the little ghost about his life. He edits out the less pleasant bits, like dying and returning to life half brain dead with the ability to see and hear ghosts.
He figures a good story is the least he can do for the boy.
⁂⁂⁂
Next Chapter
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kobayashi-aika · 5 years
Text
“Love Live! Sunshine!! The School Idol Movie Over the Rainbow” Guilty Kiss Interviews #2: Kobayashi Aika (Part 2)
fun fact this headline is different from the one at the end of part 1 because i didn’t actually read part 2 until i did this
also this should be obvious based on the title but this part contains heavy movie spoilers
“I’m glad she met Aqours”
--The movie came out in the middle of all these events. What were your thoughts when you first saw the story?
Kobayashi: I cried so much. The third years were going towards their own futures, and it felt like everyone was leaving for somewhere far away. It was sad and lonely, but because Aqours was able to see the future ahead of them, there’s a lot of happiness in it for them.
In fact, if you told me “Let’s end Aqours’ story right here”, I’d be at a loss. But I’m glad that I got to see them embark on a new path.
--The third years leaving certainly isn’t something we should be dwelling on.
Kobayashi: I was crying from the very first moments of the movie... I didn’t expect to cry so much. Everyone was just passing the tissues back and forth (laughs).
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--(also laughs) Do you still remember the recording sessions?
Kobayashi: Of course I do. It took place over three days, but on the first day, the third years weren’t there for the opening scenes. They were with us for the second day onward, but I felt uneasy without the three of them there (strained laugh).
Of course, Tsuki-chan (Kurosawa Tomoyo-san) and everyone else was there, but having just the six of us there felt really lonely. I knew how the story was supposed to progress, but I still felt like crying throughout the recording session.
--It’s just like how they feel in the story; without the third years, it feels so lonely.
Kobayashi: That’s definitely true. That’s why what Saint Snow said felt so on point, and I really felt it even as a voice actress.
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--What scenes left an impression on you?
Kobayashi: Hmm... there were a lot, but for me, I like the performance of “Next SPARKLING!!” the most. The part where Chika sees the third years, who are already gone, and reaches out with both of her hands before bringing them to her heart, as it transitions to a performance with all nine of them was really moving. I bet a lot of the fans love that part, too.
After that, there’s the part where we join hands and form a circle. That’s actually reserved for the most important moments for us. We also start “Brightest Melody” off in a circle; it’s moments like that where we’ll form a circle. That why that scene really stays in my heart.
Also, the credits start rolling after the second verse, and while there are still some lingering emotions there, I was crying the entire time. Maybe they put that there so people can calm their emotions down a bit (laughs).
Seeing my name beside Yoshiko’s name in the credits, along with the rest of the cast, and everyone involved in the making of this movie was a reminder of just how many were supporting us and helped bring this to completion.
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--Tell us about your favorite scenes with Yoshiko.
Kobayashi: When Mari’s mother tasks the first and second years with finding the third years, the very last chocolate coin that falls from the ceiling hits her head, and she goes “Ow!”. I love that scene! It’s that misfortune of hers that I love. (laughs).
Also, there’s the scene where everyone is in Mari’s vacation home, and for some reason Yoshiko falls from the balcony. I have no clue why she was even there in the first place, and I’m amazed at how she gets away without getting hurt all the time (laughs). They should put a disclaimer saying “This is special training for fallen angels. Please don’t try this at home” (laughs).
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--That’s true (laughs). She also had a reunion with her middle school classmates in the scene where everyone helps to come with the preparations for the final live.
Kobayashi: She’s a girl that’s carrying a lot of dark history that she probably wants to forget, so to see her successfully exchange contact information like that personally made me feel like she’s grown.
--The Yoshiko from season one definitely couldn’t have pulled that off.
Kobayashi: She probably would have just run away. But it’s because Aqours didn’t run away either, accepted Yoshiko for who she was, and gave her a place to belong that she could face her past. So I’m glad she met Aqours.
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--As the voice of a first year, what did you think of the second and third years?
Kobayashi: Seeing the third years go towards the future like that makes me think that the second years must have a lot of the same worries as them. But through the movie, we’ve seen them grow so much after the third years’ graduation that they’ll surely be fine from now on.
And of course, the first years grew a lot as a unit, too. I kept watching them and thinking, “One day, they’ll have some juniors that they’ll have to take care of, too”. They’re all very unique in their own way, but rather than falling apart, they’ve really stuck together, so I imagine that they’ll be fine from now on, too.
--In the movie, there are two scenes where the six of you are running on the beach. At the beginning of the movie, they were completely exhausted and trailing behind the second years, but at the end, they ended up overtaking and running past them.
Kobayashi: At the beginning, it was really tough for them, but after their live in Italy and the Love Live! finals against Saint Snow, their feelings of “Let’s follow the second years” changed to “Let’s chase after the second years”. I really love that.
Personally, I had thought that they were still just kids at heart. At the beginning of season one, they couldn’t really do anything, and their personalities were conflicting and all over the place. They were really just “first year students that were a part of Aqours”.
But because Aqours was working together towards their goals, they got so close, and they all developed these feelings of wanting to work hard. They’ve grown so much, and they’ve given me a push to work harder as well.
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--The Blu-ray will go on sale on July 26th, so are there any other scenes you want people to rewatch?
Kobayashi: Definitely all the little details in the performance scenes. With a Blu-ray, you can go through it at your own pace, so I hope you can have all sorts of fun making new discoveries like that!
That being said, I think our fans watch and think about these things more than even we do... (laughs) We’ll make sure to watch it a lot, and I hope we can have fun making those discoveries, too!
Next time: “Guilty Kiss’ highlight at the Subunit National Battle Tour was definitely...?”
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