Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.
"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."
"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.
After popping some painkillers, you did in fact go to bed. That was at nine p.m., and it’s currently just after midnight, but you haven’t been able to sleep. The headache was mild, but you think maybe the painkillers did more than relieve you of it because you’re feeling strangely clearheaded. Half an hour or so ago, you heard the sound of the shower running, and since then, it’s been mostly quiet.
You stare at the white ceiling, collecting the last bits of your thoughts.
Not long after you’ve thrown your legs over the edge of the bed, you’re standing outside Jeongguk’s bedroom. He could be sleeping, but you don’t think so. Not yet. Or at least not deeply. And while you’ve made the decision in a short period of time, you’re not sure if any amount of time would have you second-guessing it. It’s like the fog around the loose ends of thread momentarily cleared up, and when you pulled on one of the red strings, a portion just… unveiled. A perfect, tangle-free thread falling to the floor.
Surprisingly determined, you knock softly on his bedroom door, opening it a sliver a few seconds later to see him rising to his elbows. The duvet shifts, exposing his chest and half of his abdomen as you peer inside the dark room. Briefly, you glance at his scars again.
Yeah.
“You alright?”
His voice sounds deeper and more confused than you assumed it would, and combined with his mildly messy hair, you wonder if maybe he was actually sleeping?
Nodding, you step inside, carefully approaching the unoccupied side of the bed. You don’t plan on sleeping in his room, otherwise you would’ve asked. At least as a courtesy.
Jeongguk watches you lie down and plant the whole side of your face into a pillow. You can tell he’s curious but mostly worried. Almost as if it’s some sort of instinct for him these days, he moves, trying to give you more space even though you have half of his generously sized bed already. He even looks around before settling his tired but gentle gaze on you. “Should I sleep somewhere else?”
You can’t help the surprised and endeared chuckle that escapes you, trying to ignore the guilt that also pokes at your heart.
“You think I’d come here just to kick you out of your own bed?” you ask, observing his face as he thinks.
“I don’t know,” he says, lying back down. “I just want to give you space.”
“But that much space?”
“Yes? I’m still very surprised that you’re okay being around me after what you saw, even more so, staying with me, alone in my house. I see the way you look at me.”
You bite your lip. You understand why he’d think that. But all you can say is that it’s been hard, trying to figure out so many things and what they would mean.
“And I get it,” he continues. “You don’t like men, and you don’t like violence, and not only am I a man, but I beat someone half to death in front of you.”
“You cracked his jaw.”
And his eye socket. Gave him a concussion and hearing loss too.
He inhales. “Yeah. And I’m sorry you saw all that, I really am, but… I’m not sorry I did it. I don’t like violence for violence’s sake, but I had to do it. Unfortunately, I’d do it all over again.”
His dark eyes turn even softer, even more genuine. “But I would never… There’s nothing you could ever say or do that would make me want to… in any way. I know it’s what they all say, but… I don’t know, I guess I’m saying that I understand that you don’t believe me and want your space from me.”
You think. Jeongguk waits patiently for you to find the words for what you want to say, what you’ve known for a while but just recently saw the deeper levels of.
“That night... Seeing you do that,” you start, thinking back to what happened. The anger, the blood, the violence. The grunts of pain and heavy breathing.
“...I liked it.”
The surprise on his face is minimal, but you still see it, can feel it in the air.
“I hate men and I hate violence because men have subjected me and those I love to so much of it. There’s never been anything for me to do about it, so I told myself I’m above that, that I’m better than that, that I dislike violence in all its forms and everyone who uses it.
"But seeing you inflict so much pain on Hoseong—pain he wholeheartedly deserved—was cathartic. The only reason I’m glad you left him alive is because I want him to suffer even more, and if violence had been an option for me instead of just a pathetic attempt to defend myself, I would’ve done the same. After everything he’s done, does me wanting him to hurt make me a bad person? I don’t think so. So maybe it doesn’t have to define you, either.”
Although he’s silent for a while, you can tell he’s relieved. There’s a newfound understanding in his dark eyes.
“But you still want space?”
“A bit, yeah. But being alone with you isn’t scary. At least not in that way,” you say, offering a small smile.
“Scary in what way, then?”
“I don’t know. I need some time to figure everything out.”
He considers your words, quietly looking around the room.
You scratch your arm, suddenly a little nervous. “Is that… okay? I don’t want to be a leech, staying at your house and being a nuisance.”
“You’re not,” he smiles, and it’s genuine and reassuring. “I like having you here, even if we’re in different rooms. So stay until you find a new apartment. But don’t stress.”
You look at him where he’s lying, half-naked, warm, sleepy, and tempting. Do you want to curl up in his strong arms like at the hospital? Bury your nose in his neck to breathe him in? Yeah, you have to admit that you do. But it’s not too difficult to watch him for another short moment, thinking that you’re trying, and then getting up.
He watches you get off the bed, gaze following your shape.
“See you tomorrow,” you say quietly, “and sorry for waking you.”
“Any time. Goodnight.”
“How was the station? You came home late last night?”
Jeongguk looks up from the couch, remote in his hand as he turns the TV on. It’s seven p.m., and yesterday he didn’t come home until nine, sending a text that he’d be late. You were on the phone with your mother when he returned—she’d called about another apartment she’d found—so you didn’t talk a lot before you went to bed in your separate rooms.
“Yeah, I stayed behind with Jimin. It’s still pretty hectic, but maybe calming down a bit.”
“That’s good,” you say, seeing him settle on a news station.
Sitting down, you actively choose not to overthink it or calculate appropriate distances and whatnot. Almost as if to make a point, even to yourself, that you’re so comfortable around Jeongguk that you don’t need to consider stuff like that. If he notices, he doesn’t show it; his eyes glued to the TV where the reporter is standing in front of police tape, its text in another language. She’s saying something about a bombing. Even if it’s far from you, your stomach churns at the nine confirmed dead and dozens wounded.
“The state of the world…” you mumble.
“Yeah,” Jeongguk agrees.
You glance at him. Clearly having changed just moments earlier after walking through the door, he’s wearing a black pullover and gray sweatpants, lazily leaned back with his feet propped on the chaise. It’s very much a contrast to the gloomy expression he wears as he watches the TV.
Having done two loads of laundry before he returned, you absentmindedly massage your palms, one at a time. The reporter explains that there are currently two suspects, two men in their forties.
Sometimes, you wonder what the world would look like without men. More peaceful and righteous, right?
“Your hands hurt?”
Turning your head, you meet Jeongguk’s eyes.
“Yeah,” you admit, lowering your gaze to your hands. “Not terribly, but they’re a bit sore. The scars itch a little as well, but I’m trying not to scratch.”
To your surprise, he holds his hand out. He doesn’t move toward you, doesn’t expect anything, just offers with his attention still mostly on the TV. It doesn’t take you long to decide because you’re trying. You want to, and you’re trying, and you feel like, after the recent revelation where he really thought you were terrified of him, you don’t think you need that much space.
So you scoot closer, leaning back against the soft couch right next to him and putting your closest hand in his open palm.
“It’s itchy even without the stitches?” he wonders, looking at your palm and where the thread was. His touch is careful, but his hands are warm.
“Yeah. Not as much as with them, though.”
“Hmm." The deep sound of his voice as well as the proximity has your heartbeat racing. “Tell me if it hurts, alright?”
“Okay.”
It doesn’t hurt. Not at all. The TV is still on, the news having moved on to other segments as Jeongguk massages your hands, one by one. He’s gentle, rubbing your soreness away in silence. At first, you think it’s more awkward than anything you’ve experienced with him in a long while, but as the minutes pass, so does the tension (that you’re not even a hundred percent sure he felt to begin with).
When he places your right hand on your lap, wordlessly asking for your left, you have to scoot even closer. Yes, you could say no, or even urge him to switch places with you to make it easier, but you don’t. When it becomes uncomfortable to keep your arm tightly across your body like that, and you’re both tired and way more relaxed, you just… lean against him. Carefully, you pull your feet up and you lean your head against his upper arm. He doesn’t say anything, just continues.
In a strange way, you can’t believe you’re doing all of this again. But the truth is that even if the world would be a much more peaceful and safe place without men, you know that you want Jeongguk in it.
You’re at a crossroad. It’s painfully obvious that you’ve reached the fork in the road, and now you can’t deny it anymore. What do you want?
What do you want?
What do you want?
Maybe it’s easier to establish what you don’t want.
You don’t want any surprises.
“Oh, no. Someone’s gonna step right on that nail, aren’t they?” you wince as Emily Blunt’s dress is caught on a long, rusty nail, dragging the nail into an upright position as she ascends the stairs, unaware.
“Not telling,” Jeongguk says, sprawled out on the other side of the couch, only illuminated by the glow of the TV.
“Oh, come on,” you complain. “That’s not a plot twist, it’s just foreshadowing.”
He shrugs, and you’re forced to watch as a heavily pregnant Emily not only impales her foot on the nail as she’s coming down the stairs, but also as her water breaks, and she goes into labor.
“Not to be conservative, but God, I would do my goddamn hardest to not have a kid when society’s been destroyed by aliens who target anything that makes the slightest of sounds. Like, is it worth it? The kid is gonna get itself and everyone else killed? Because you couldn’t abstain from sex?”
“Right? How is that a risk you’re willing to take?” Jeongguk mumbles, immersed in the movie. “Maybe if there’s contraceptives, but honestly… ”
You look at him, surprised. “You’d give up sex, even if there are contraceptives like condoms lying around?”
He bites his lip, turning his head to look at you. “I don’t know. But the thought of getting my wife pregnant and losing her because of that, or just… birth… would be unbearable."
“Yeah. Sex isn’t everything.”
You’re quiet, but it doesn’t mean it’s silent as Emily is actively giving birth in a tub and the aliens are running around, looking for her and her other children. You zone out a bit, considering some things while John Krasinski does a pretty good Tarzan yell in the background.
“So… what do you think about childbirth?”
Jeongguk looks at you again, but you keep your head forward, pretending to watch the movie more attentively than you actually are.
“What?”
“Yeah. Childbirth.”
“Uh… miracle of life? It’s kinda impressive that so many women actually go through that.”
You nod absentmindedly. He’s definitely right about that. “Do you know about the ‘husband stitch?’”
“The what?”
“The husband stitch. Sometimes, when a woman tears during childbirth, the doctor will put in an extra stitch when stitching her up, either because the husband asked for it or just as a favor to him.”
“Isn’t that good, though? Make sure it heals correctly?”
You shake your head, still watching the TV. From the corner of your eye, you can see Jeongguk watching you, a little confused and trying to understand.
“It’s not to make it heal; it’s to make her ‘tighter’ for him during sex. But it’s painful, sometimes excruciating, and can cause health complications, and so they do it without telling her.”
When you look at him again, he's wide-eyed and frowning. “Are you serious? Doctors do that? Not these days, right?”
“They still do, but hopefully, it’s on the decline.”
“And husbands ask for that?”
“Yeah.”
He shuts his eyes, leaning his head back. “I can’t even imagine the thought process of doing that to someone you claim to love.”
“Me neither,” you agree. How anyone could do that is beyond you.
Bright and early the next morning, you find yourself sitting across from Jinyoung in the same interrogation room as last time. Unfortunately, your story isn’t something you can convey in one sitting, and this session, the focus is on the harassment you suffered both during and after work hours.
“You said before that you were poisoned? Would you tell me about that?”
You look at the recorder placed on the gray table top between you. Jinyoung also has his laptop and a coffee in front of him, and you’ve got another Coke.
“Well, I wasn’t actually poisoned, but someone tried to. My dog was poisoned and died, though.”
“Okay. When was this attempt?”
“April fifth of last year. My dog, Fenrir, died on August twenty-second. I have his autopsy report.”
“I understand,” he says, clasping his hands on the table. “Let's start with you, though. What makes you suspect that someone tried to poison you?”
If you weren’t so used to the workings of interrogation, you’d maybe feel distrusted. But you know just as well as Jinyoung that he’s asking all the questions to be thorough, leaving no gaps or assumptions.
“Considering what had happened to my car after I reported Hoseong for the… rape, I was careful. I had made coffee here at the station, and then unfortunately left it unguarded for a few minutes in one of the break rooms. When I got back, I saw some kind of… foam on the surface.”
You think back to the moment you returned to the break room after running out to catch Sana before she went home. Your breathing was returning to normal, a smile still on your face from the short interaction, but when you saw it, the smile fell, and a chill ran down your spine.
“What happened to your car? If you can describe it briefly now, we can return to go over it more thoroughly later.”
You nod. “Someone tampered with the brakes on it on multiple occasions. When I had it towed to my mechanic, they found GPS trackers on it as well.”
“Do you have anything to support those claims?”
“Yes. As you might know, my car is in the forensic garage. The brakes were never fixed after the last time. I don’t have any evidence of who did it, but my mechanic is willing to testify that she’s fixed my car on multiple occasions. The GPS trackers found are also at the forensic’s as evidence.”
“Mhm, okay. I will look into that. So, considering what happened to your car, you believed someone had poisoned your coffee? How long was it left unsupervised?”
“Yes. Like… three minutes tops. I had it sent to the toxicology division. They confirmed it to be cyanide, a kind of potassium cyanide that can be found in powdered form. Although cyanide is easily dissolvable, this powdered version can apparently briefly leave a bit of foam, especially if dumped in quickly.”
Jinyoung nods absentmindedly, typing everything down on his computer. “Who tested it, do you remember?”
“Not at the top of my head, but it’s in the lab report, so I can look.”
“That would be appreciated. So you didn’t drink it?”
“No.”
“Okay. And who could have accessed the drink?”
“Anyone close enough.”
“Did you see anyone around at that time?”
“Yes.”
You remember feeling… watched as you exited that break room with the possibly poisoned coffee in hand. It felt like everyone you passed in the hallway was secretly observing you, only waiting for you to take a sip.
“Who?”
“I remember seeing… JJ, Min, Sana, Haechan, Mark, and Jeongguk. Since I had my suspicions, I wrote them down. But like I said, it didn’t have to be any of them. In fact, I don’t think so. Maybe JJ, I don’t know, but I don’t think Min, Sana, Haechan, Mark, or Jeongguk did it.”
“Okay. What makes you think JJ might have done it? And not the others?”
“I’m not… necessarily saying that I think JJ did it, but seeing as he’s under investigation for taking bribes, and his stepsister is—or was—involved with Hoseong, he would have reason to. Either voluntarily, or he could’ve been persuaded. Sana is a very close friend of mine and has no motive. I don’t know Min or Haechan too well, but if they have no connections to Hoseong or any of the others under investigation besides at one point being colleagues, I don’t see them having strong motives either. At the time, I thought that Jeongguk could have done it, but it was before I really knew him, and I no longer think it could’ve been him. These days, I don't think he's ever had the motive or intention to hurt me.”
Jinyoung scrolls whatever document is open on his laptop, calm as ever. “What made you change your mind about him? Jeongguk?”
The hallway is quiet when you step out of the interrogation room, subtly stretching your arms in front of you. You breathe in, trying to clear your head for the ten minutes you have before you’re supposed to continue. Deciding you might as well visit the vending machine to see what they offer at this part of the station these days, you start walking, leaving Jinyoung behind, still in the interrogation room.
Half a minute later, you round the last corner, and there he is.
Jeongguk stands beside the vending machine, a bar of some sort in his hand as he's scrolling through his phone. He lifts his head at the sound of footsteps, smiling when you lock eyes.
“Hey. How’s it going?” he asks, putting the phone in his pocket. He’s wearing the same dark jeans and the police academy’s navy sweatshirt you saw him throw on this morning.
“Good,” you answer truthfully. Sure, being interrogated and having to relive so much of your trauma is hard, but at the same time… You’ve waited so long for people to listen and believe you. “What are you doing?”
“Getting a snack,” he says, waving the bar while grinning happily.
You chuckle, “I can see that, but what are you working on?”
“I’m actually compiling all the info on KSung, just to see how exactly they might’ve been involved in our case.”
Looking at him, you feel your chest tighten. He’s still doing whatever he can to help you, both personally and with the case you’ve been so passionate about.
Before anything else can be said, Jinyoung appears behind you. He must’ve felt the same pull from the vending machine. Watching the two men greet each other quietly, using those man-nods, you realize that there’s some kind of very… mutual respect between them. You know that they didn’t know each other before this case, but also that Jinyoung held some of Jeongguk’s first interrogations after the last… incident.
The gray chair is cold but not uncomfortable when Jeongguk takes his seat, his eyes scanning the empty table in front of him. He isn’t nervous per se, at least not for his own sake, but he knows that he very well could be in trouble. A shit load of it, actually. But if that’s the case then that’s the case; he wouldn’t do anything differently. Except maybe arrive at your apartment a few minutes earlier. Maybe then you wouldn’t currently be lying in a hospital bed.
“Anything to drink?” the interrogator asks, holding the door ajar while waiting for Jeongguk’s answer.
“Uh… I’m good, thanks.”
“You sure? It’ll probably take a while.”
“Alright, coffee would be good. Black.”
Jinyoung nods and calls his order out into the hall. Two black coffees. Then he steps inside, letting the door fall shut behind him.
Looking at Jinyoung feels like looking into a mirror where everything is just slightly off. Jeongguk isn’t sure, but he thinks Jinyoung might be about the same age as him. He’s also roughly the same build, maybe slightly shorter. His eyes are the same shade of dark brown, just a little less round, and his hair is the same color and texture, just kept an inch longer. Despite hoping Jinyoung is similar to himself in more ways than simply the physical, Jeongguk is well aware that he doesn’t know where he has him.
Sitting down, Jinyoung opens the laptop he brought, sets down a few papers, and places a small recorder in the middle of the table. With a press of its button, a red light turns on.
"Interrogation number one with Officer Jeon Jeongguk," Jinyoung states, glancing at his watch. "Time is nine-thirty a.m., January nineteenth. This session will cover the subject’s intervention during the incident on January fifteenth. I’ve reviewed the first statements, the reports from the incident during last summer’s assignment, as well as the current reports related to the sexual assault allegations against the suspect, Park Hoseong. You’ve reviewed them too, Jeongguk?"
"Yes."
"Do you agree that they are accurate? Or is there anything you don’t agree with?"
"I agree. They’re accurate."
"Good. So, Officer Jeon. Tell me how you came to be at the victim’s home that night."
Jeongguk leans forward, resting his arms on the table. "I was surveilling JJ, who we suspected might be taking bribes on Hoseong’s behalf and leaking information. That same night, there was a shooting near the station. I got called in, but I was on the other side of town at JJ’s stepsister’s house, so it would take me a while to get there. While I was driving…"
He pauses. Your voice wakes him at night, makes him clutch his chest and search for you, just to make sure it’s over.
“She called me with the last bit of battery she had to say that Hoseong was there and about to kill her. Then her phone died. Luckily, I happened to be close—since she lives on the way to the station—and I managed to get to her just in time. I kicked the door in and grabbed him.”
"You got him off her?"
"Yes."
It’s technically a lie. Hoseong wasn’t on you by the time Jeongguk reached you, but the distinction feels pointless.
"And you hit him?"
"Yes."
"Did he hit you back?"
"Yes."
"But you weren’t injured, were you?"
Jeongguk remains silent, aware of how the tone has shifted ever so slightly. He knows exactly what Jinyoung’s getting at, though he’s unsure of the angle.
“Looking at the initial report—and as you’re sitting in front of me—you seem relatively fine while Hoseong was admitted to the hospital with…” Jinyoung glances at a paper in front of him. “...A jaw fracture, orbital fracture, concussion, hearing damage, and second degree burns…”
“Yes. Although he sustained the burns before I showed up.”
Jeongguk isn't mentioning it to hopefully shift the blame, but to give credit where credit's due. Using the hot water was a smart move on your part.
Jinyoung licks his lips, still looking at the paper in front of him while reaching for the recorder. With a press of the button, the red little light goes dark.
“...You realize how this looks, right?” he asks, and Jeongguk can’t tell if he’s truly reading the paper held in his hand or if he’s just pretending to be. “Society’s not very fond of anything remotely resembling police brutality.”
Jeongguk nods once. The correct way would’ve been to restrain Hoseong as quickly as possible so that he was no longer a danger to anyone, and then Jeongguk could’ve looked after you and called for backup. But he’s merely a man, and he’d do it all over again. Every single bit.
Briefly, he wonders if it could even count as police brutality when both parties are—or were—part of the police, and when it technically didn’t happen while he was on duty, but he doesn’t bring it up. He gets what Jinyoung means.
“This man has tried to kill her… I don’t even know how many times and always gotten away with it. We, us as men, as police officers, as a society, have failed her on even more occasions. I have failed her. The least I can do for her and other women in her position is to stop him, whatever means necessary,” Jeongguk says firmly. “I did what I had to do.”
Jinyoung nods slowly–almost disinterested—his eyes still on the paper.
“Everything in the reports is true? Nothing’s fabricated or overstated in any way?”
“Everything is true.”
“I see,” Jinyoung says. He looks up briefly before licking his thumb to turn a page, skimming the new text. “Good job.”
He reaches for the recorder again, pressing it.
“Recorder stopped due to low battery. Interrogation proceeds. So, Jeongguk, you said that the suspect didn’t get any good hits in on you but still wouldn’t stop? Is that correct?”
Despite being surprised, Jeongguk is calm, only needing a second to catch on. “Yes.”
"So you believe you did only what was absolutely necessary to keep yourself and your friend safe? Even if it resulted in extensive injuries for the suspect?"
He would’ve taken the blame, but if he’s being offered a helping hand, Jeongguk doesn’t see the fault in taking it.
"Yes."
Jinyoung opens his mouth to say something else, but just then, there’s a knock at the door. Another interrogator peeks his head inside, entering to put the two coffees on the table at Jinyoung’s nod of approval.
“Let’s continue with the next question.”
“Done for today?”
It’s Jihyo’s voice, softly optimistic as you sink down on the chair in her office.
“Yeah. Finally. It takes its toll, you know?” you smile tiredly, leaning your arms on the desk and your chin on them.
“I understand. I’ve been in some long interrogations too, and while they’re not like yours… they definitely tire one out.”
“Mhm.”
She looks at you, her next words even softer, yet casual. “Still staying with Jeongguk?”
You focus on the calendar hung on the wall. It’s one of those animal ones; this one designed with rabbits.
“Yeah. I don’t know but my apartment feels icky. It’s lonely and cold and dark in there no matter what I do.”
She nods, tapping her nails on the table as she thinks. “Are you thinking of finding something new? I mean, I’m sure Jeongguk doesn’t mind you staying with him, but maybe a fresh start is good?”
“I’ve been looking around a little. Jeongguk is nice and very generous, but I feel like a parasite.”
“You know you’re always welcome at my place, right? Although I’m assuming you mean you don’t want to depend on anyone. Which, you know, I definitely understand,” she smiles. “Just don’t move too far away.”
"I know. Thank you."
That evening, you sit cross-legged on the couch, laptop balanced on your thighs as you scroll through rental listings. The city is expensive—it always has been—but the last few years? Insane. Besides the bad memories haunting the place, your apartment is a good one, priced reasonably considering the decent standard, but landlords like that are hard to come by these days. Whatever’s available in your preferred price range is either too small, too run-down, or too far away.
“Looking at apartments?”
You lift your head, watching Jeongguk enter the living room with a glass of what looks like Coke in his hand. Unlike you, who changed from jeans and blouse into sweats the moment you came home, he’s still in the jeans and police academy sweatshirt. Though his jeans are looser and probably more comfortable than yours were, and you suspect he’ll lose the sweatshirt soon enough.
“Yes,” you grimace. “Kinda realizing I’ve been spoiled with my present one.”
He hums sympathetically. “The market right now is crazy. I bought this house just before the prices really skyrocketed.”
“Unfair,” you groan.
Jeongguk puts the glass on the coffee table, next to your mug, before he sinks down beside you on the couch, his legs spread comfortably. “Well, if you like this house you can always live here. For free, of course. Although, unfortunately, I come with it.”
His words earn him a slight roll of your eyes. “Would you want to live with someone? Be dependent on them?”
“Depends. Live with? Yeah, if it’s someone I like. Be dependent? Not entirely. But I wouldn’t say that you’re depending on me, and I’m not offering just to be nice. I… prefer having you here; it’s almost lonely when you’re not.”
Eyes glued to the smaller screen and the little apartment currently on it, you consider his words. You get what he’s saying, and the fact is that you… enjoy living with him too, but you can’t shake the feeling that you are in fact depending on him, and it’s a feeling you don’t like. You’ve been at the mercy of others for so long, especially men, and while… maybe it’s not logical to feel so strongly about it, you can’t help it. For once, you’d like to be fine on your own, maybe one day even live with someone purely because you like them and not because something’s haunting you.
“Let me see?”
You put the laptop in Jeongguk’s outstretched hand. “It has to be… decent. I'm not looking to buy unless super cheap; I prefer renting right now.”
“Yeah,” he hums, starting to scroll the moment the laptop’s stable on his lap.
“And you know what I make. So, I can afford something a little more expensive than my current, especially with the raise, but I don’t want to pay my current rent for a shoebox without windows, you know?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I get that. At least there’s no rush in finding something.”
“Yeah.”
He looks at about twenty different listings more or less in the area, and for each one he mumbles their details and what he deems insufficient.
You lean back, directing your gaze onto the TV. “So, what are your thoughts on finances?”
From the corner of your eye, you see how he lifts his head to look at you. “Finances?”
“Yeah,” you say, reaching for the remote. “Your general thoughts on it.”
“Uh… Well, I’d like to think that I'm responsible with my finances. I like to save for the future and for unforeseeable stuff, but I also don’t think you should save everything if you don’t have to. Live a little while you can, if you can, you know?”
You zap between channels. “Okay. And on couples’ finances?”
“Couples’ finances?” he repeats, understandably still confused.
“Yeah. What do you find most logical? Splitting everything fifty-fifty or by percentage of household earnings? Or something else?”
“Uh… I don’t know, I guess I always thought you’re supposed to put everything in a shared account. ‘What’s mine is yours,’ you know?”
You nod. “So every purchase has to go through both parties?”
He puts the laptop between you, leaning forward to grab his half-full glass of Coke. Taking a sip, he thinks.
“No… more like, I don’t know, you decide on an amount for savings, maybe, and I don’t know, set a limit of what you can spend without having to consult the other? I wouldn’t want my partner to feel controlled, but I wouldn’t want someone completely irresponsible with money either. Not when it affects the both of you.”
You look at him, curious to know how he resonates, but mindful not to influence his answer. Or at least try to. “Even if your partner were to earn a lot less than you?”
“Yeah?” he says, placing the glass back on the table. “If we live together and plan for a life together, why should I have more if she has less?”
“Maybe you worked harder for your job?”
“Maybe? But I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror if I had money to spare every month while someone I claim to love has to turn every penny. I worked hard for this job because it’s something I want to do, and if I can also provide an easier life for the one I love? What more could I ask for?”
“Hm.” You look at him with slight suspicion. Does he have an earpiece through which the green-flag-coach is feeding him lines?
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What… do you think?”
The fact is that you wholly agree. You’ve never lived with someone long enough to share finances like that, but you’ve heard more than enough about the traps women fall into, including being made to split everything fifty-fifty while the man still has money left for savings, and she doesn’t. And if that relationship ends, she’s left without the essential funds to start over.
It might sound fair on the surface—they’re splitting the rent, the groceries, the bills. But women often earn less than men. Employers don’t want to pay women as much as their male counterparts, and if she gets pregnant, she’ll likely miss work too. Over time, she might become financially dependent on him. She simply couldn't afford to leave if she wanted to.
In your opinion, the fairest option is making sure both partners have roughly the same amount left after all bills and expenses have been paid. Within reason, of course. If one person is able to work but chooses not to and expects to be taken care of, then that’s something else entirely.
“You have a point.”
You can’t tell if he’s relieved or not, just that he’s trying to figure out what you’re up to.
“Why… do you ask?”
But you can’t tell him yet. “Just wondering.”
Instead, you change the subject. “So… Jihyo told me Hoseong’s been discharged…”
“Yeah, yesterday, I think.”
“Do you know where he is? Jihyo said she didn’t know it off the top of her head but that she could look it up.”
“Uh, yeah. I heard he was taken to the Central Detention Center,” Jeongguk says, finally closing your laptop to put it on the table properly.
You bite your lip. He glances at you, clearly noticing the thoughts whirling.
“He won’t be able to touch you, I promise. I have a friend working there, and he’s making absolutely sure he’s not going anywhere, as am I.”
But that’s not why you asked.
“Okay.”
You sit across from each other at the kitchen table, quiet chewing and the occasional clink of cutlery the only sounds in the room. Jeongguk’s black hair sticks up a little on one side, evidence that he woke up not too long ago. It’s so endearing to see someone like him, someone so big and strong, look like he’s still half asleep. The sleeves of his black hoodie are pushed halfway up his veiny forearms, and he looks so warm.
You pick up a piece of fried egg with your fork, your voice softer than usual in pure consideration. “Thoughts on divorce?”
He pauses mid-chew, a strip of bacon still hanging from his fork. He blinks. Then swallows. “Uh… good as an option, sad maybe that people feel like they want to go through with it?”
“Okay.”
He looks at you, maybe a little unsure, but doesn’t ask.
“What about abortion?”
“Uhm… No one should be trying to influence someone else on their decision to keep a baby or not.”
“But what do you think about the abortion itself?”
“That everyone has the right to choose. I don’t think it’s a human yet. It doesn’t suffer by being aborted.”
“Interesting,” you mumble. “Can men want children? Like, not because they think their partner looks hot pregnant or like they feel in control, having impregnated and therefore own a woman? But like, can men genuinely want to be fathers?”
He nods, evidently used to your pessimistic impression of men. “Yeah, I think it’s pretty common. Maybe not as common as women wanting to be mothers, though.”
You wipe your mouth with your thumb. “What if you felt like that, only to discover that your partner has scheduled an abortion?”
He shifts in his seat, adjusting his sleeves back down to his wrist. “Uh… I can imagine I’d be heartbroken? I feel like I’d want to talk to her—”
“—Convince her not to?”
“No.” He meets your eyes. “I just… I don’t know. I think I’d want to assure her of my stance before she gets the abortion. Make it clear how I feel and that I’d be ready to parent and such, just in case she’s doing it because she’s scared regarding my involvement.
“But if she still wants to and it’s because she either doesn’t want children or it’s not the right time, or she doesn’t want to go through, well… childbirth, I don’t think there would be anything else to do than just accept it and hold her hand?”
You take another bite. “And if you don’t want kids? What if you feel like a kid will ruin your life and your relationship and you’ll despise it?”
“I don’t—”
“—But what if?” you cut in. “And what if you’ve been using protection, but she ends up pregnant and plans to keep it against your will?”
Jeongguk leans back slightly, definitely more awake as he scratches his neck. “Well… I would, again, make it clear where I stand, so that she knows how much or little I’d like to be involved if she does decide to keep it. If I truly feel like I’ll despise it, then… It’s not fair to a child to have a parent like that, so maybe we would have to break up? And I would make sure she has everything she needs, but… I don’t know? Should I be around the kid in that case? Children know when they’re not wanted, right? Maybe not while they’re under a year or two, so maybe I should still help out then, but it’s not fair to the kid later on. I don’t know, honestly.”
“Okay. And if you suspect that she baby-trapped you? Said she was on the pill but lied?”
"I mean, that's shitty, but what am I supposed to do? Break up and try to provide so that the child doesn't suffer, but what else can I do? I still had sex with someone, pregnancy will always be a risk."
"Okay."
He eyes you cautiously over the rim of his coffee mug, chuckling nervously. “Are you ever going to tell me if I answer these right?”
You shrug. “I mean, you could’ve said that you’d push her down the stairs and the problem is solved.”
His eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Oh. Well, that didn't even cross my mind.”
Your face softens into a small smile, feeling like cutting him some slack. “I know. Remember to brush your hair before we leave.”
“What about changing a tire?”
Jeongguk pauses, glancing down at the shopping basket in his hand before looking at you.
“Changing a tire?” he repeats, then nods to himself when he gets it. “Oh. Uhm… I don’t mind changing the tires if needed, but I think everyone should know how to in an emergency, so I’d be open to teach?”
You hum, eyeing the shelf of canned goods in front of you as you try not to imagine him changing tires, all sweaty, bulging muscles. “So it’s okay to let the man do the tire-changing and mowing the lawn, and the woman does the laundry and dishes?”
“Now that’s not what I said,” he scolds, making you smile. “You don’t change tires nearly as often as you do the laundry. I'd say it depends on your personality and what you prefer doing. I like doing physical stuff so I’d prefer to mow the lawn over doing the dishes, but it also needs to be fair, so I could do either the dishes or the laundry too or we take turns.”
“So you don’t mind helping with the household chores?”
“'Helping?' They’re mine to do as well, aren't they?”
You glance over at him, basket in one hand, the other buried in the pocket of his black jacket. His answer earns him a small nod.
“Okay,” you say.
“Can men and women be just friends?” you ask. “Assuming they’re both attracted to the opposite sex?”
Jeongguk turns to look at you from the other end of the couch. It’s dark in the room, the only light coming from the TV where a Marvel movie plays. His hair’s a little messy, and he sits with one knee drawn up, blanket half-slipped from his lap.
“Yeah,” he says.
“Yeah? You think so? Is it okay to hang out alone with a friend of the opposite sex when you have a partner?”
Obviously, he knows by now what it is that you’re doing, and while you don’t think he’d fabricate his answers to please you, you wonder how much he actually tailors them for you.
“I think so?” he says slowly. “But I can also see why someone would be a little concerned and maybe jealous. So maybe it’s important to both have trust in your partner but also take their feelings seriously. Assuming they’re not crazy.”
“What do you mean?”
He shifts slightly. “I don’t know, maybe if you’re jealous or worried that your partner has a friend who is interested in them, tell them? And your partner can assure you that nothing is going on and that if their friend comes onto them, that they’ll set them straight?”
“And you think that’ll work?”
“Well, what else can you do? You have to trust your partner or it definitely won’t work. Some people cheat, but you can’t assume everyone will. I'd say that you have a right to your feelings, even if they're unreasonable, they just can't affect your partner negatively.”
You pause for a second, choosing your next words. “What would you do if you were with someone who cheated on you?”
“Huh?”
“Yeah. Say you’ve been dating someone for a year or two, and she’s been out all night with her friends. After she comes home and falls asleep next to you, Jimin texts, saying he saw her kissing someone else. Would that make you angry?”
“I…” He frowns. “I think it would mostly break my heart.”
“But you’d be angry too, right? A little bit?”
“Yeah, I guess. I mean, I’d feel betrayed.”
“What would you do when you find out? If she’s sleeping next to you, and you’re alone?”
He tilts his head. “Are you asking if I’d hurt her?”
You look at him, seeing the slight… hurt on his face and almost regretting your question. Maybe it’s unfair of you. No, it is unfair of you, and it wasn't how you meant to ask it, but the question’s already hanging in the air, so you might as well get an answer.
“...Would you?”
“Of course not.”
Though you can’t say you expected any other kind of answer, it still relieves you. “Then what would you do?”
“I think I would ask Jimin if he was sure. I’d probably... probably call him to make sure there are no miscommunications. And if he’s a hundred percent sure it was her he saw, I think I would wake her and ask. Or jut ask the morning after.”
“Why? Don’t you think she’d lie?”
“I don’t know, I’d hope not? But I’ve fucked up one too many times before, so I know I’m doing everything to make sure before taking someone's side. And even if she did kiss someone, maybe it wasn’t even consensual?”
“And if it wasn’t?”
“I’m probably beating someone’s ass. Sorry to be blunt,” he says, his answer firm but voice still calm. “But that someone is never her.”
You glance back at the screen. “What if she insists she never kissed anyone, but Jimin swears he saw it?”
“If it’s her word against his?” He exhales slowly. “Jimin wouldn’t make something like that up..."
“So you’d pick Jimin.”
“No.”
“You’d let her cheat on you.”
“It’s not that… simple.”
He pauses, and when you look at him again, he’s already watching you. “What would you do?”
Although you usually don’t give away the, to you, right answer—though you’re sure he can guess most of the time—this once, you really consider it.
You picture the same scenario, only with Jeongguk as your partner—simply because he’s honestly the only person you’d ever even entertain the idea with—and maybe Sana, who wouldn’t gain anything by lying.
As Jeongguk looks at you, waiting for your answer, you imagine those dark brown eyes, kissing someone else, breaking your heart. Would he? But would Sana lie? If she swears she’s not mistaken?
“I don’t know,” you admit quietly.
Leaning in closer, you’re inches away from your own reflection as you try to put your earring in. The small silver studs have lived inside a crumb-filled inner pocket of your purse for god knows how long, but they’re currently the best option you have if you don’t want to take another trip past your apartment before you leave.
The dress you’re wearing is a black A-line one, ending somewhere mid-thigh. Nothing dramatic but still nice. Chaeyoung’s birthday dinner is a smaller gathering, but you wanted to look decent, so you splurged a little, ordering a new dress and having it delivered to Jeongguk’s house.
Through the mirror, you spot the aforementioned man passing by the open bathroom door, only to return a second later and lean against the frame. He’s not joining you—whatever you may be, you’re not at the point of going as plus-ones—and so instead, he claimed he’d be doing a deep clean of the garage. It shows; his gray sweatpants and army green t-shirt are stained with some kind of grime. Maybe a vehicle… oil or something. The dirt colors his hands as well, some smudges even creeping up those veiny forearms.
“Can I tell you something?” he asks from the doorway.
“Yeah,” you respond casually, turning your face to put in the other earring as well.
“You look so beautiful.”
The words—and the happy little smile he gives—catch you off guard, and the stud slips from your fingers. It bounces in the sink with a few quick clinks as you desperately lunge to catch it. Miraculously, you manage to press it between your palm and the porcelain before it's swallowed by the drain.
Carefully grabbing the little thing, you meet Jeongguk's eyes through the mirror. “That would’ve been your fault,” you warn, feeling your cheeks heat.
“I would’ve taken full responsibility,” he grins.
And then he leaves to continue whatever he was doing.
<previous | next>
author's note: i'd love love love to hear your opinions! do you understand her? and what she's doing? do you agree? would you do something different? (also the next part is 😳🫣 just a heads up lol). please reblog if you liked it <3
I was thinking today about the everyday witchy things we do. And then I wondered about the traditions my family and I do every New Year after we hugged each other. So I thought “maybe not everyone do this” which led me to this post.
I feel like there might be magic in this traditions and I also want to know who else does this. Ergo, I’m gonna make a list.
I love lists.
- Eat 3 teaspoon/hanfuls of lentils so the money never lacks.
- Put a laurel leave on our wallets to always have money.
- Go around the block with a suitcase to travel a lot during the year.
- Eat 12 grapes 1 per month, and ask for a different wish everytime you eat one.
- Put gold (like wedding bands) on the champagne glasses and drink the champagne. This is for good fortune.
- Welcome the new year with doors and windows open allowing cleaning and renovation.
- The first hug with someone of your opposite sex. Guarantees good relationships with everyone through the year.
Now this second list is those things other people do, but I have never done.
- Put 1000 pesos on your right shoe to have this multiplied over the year.
- Wear yellow underwear (backwards) to attract love and romance.
- Candles on different colors: Blue for peace, yellow for abundancy, red for passion and green for health.
There are many more, but this is what I could think of as right now. Let me know yours if you have something different!
BTS have officially confirmed their return for 2026 with plans for a new album and world tour
The group has announced a comeback on March 20th, 2025
“March 20 comeback confirmed,” the K-pop group’s agency Big Hit Music said in a new post on X, marking their first studio album since 2020’s ‘Be’ and their first record since their anthology LP ‘Proof’ was released in 2022. Ahead of the official confirmation, all seven members teased their return in handwritten notes sent to their fansbase to celebrate the New Year. In the messages, they hinted at being reunited soon with their loyal ARMY fanbase, cryptically writing the date March 20, 2026. The band have been in the studio together working since last July, promising an album that will “reflect each member’s thoughts and ideas.” A world tour has also been promised. (x)
AI generated images are NOT art. art is CREATED, not GENERATED.
this is not just about taking jobs from artists (which is already a huge deal), it’s also about devaluing art itself, turning it into mass-produced, empty and soulless content. it’s heartbreaking to see AI stealing from real artists: from Studio Ghibli to smaller creators like us.
personally, we started our art journey by reinterpreting what we love: music, TV series, anime and transforming it into our vision inspired by the 90’s anime that we grew up with. when we create our illustrations, we try to capture the emotion and love we feel for the subject, aiming to tell a story with each drawing. ever since AI was created, we have had many people asking if our art is AI generated. honestly, it’s heartbreaking every single time. for us, art is a deeply human experience that we’ve been dedicating ourselves to for seven years. creating from nothing takes dedication, skill, and an emotional investment that, in our opinion, AI simply can’t capture.
you’ve probably seen your feed flooded with AI generated images in a “Studio Ghibli style”. trends like these reinforce the idea that art can be easily replicated and devalued. the future of artists is more uncertain than ever. we don’t know if in a few years we’ll still be able to make a living from this, since many companies are adopting the mindset of “why should i pay someone for their well-earned work when a machine can do it for free in an instant?” that mindset is the real problem: the way society is starting to perceive art.
art is essential to human life. many people realized this during the pandemic: what would we do without music, movies, books, that bring us comfort? art is more than just the final product. it’s about the process, struggles, and personal growth that comes with it. when you create, you grow, learn, and challenge yourself. AI erases that, replacing it with instant and shallow replication. real art brings people together, evoking emotions and reminding us of what it means to be human.
relying on AI to make art isn’t innovation, it’s avoiding the challenge of creating something meaningful. AI tools like these are being pushed as "the future," but what does that say about us? replacing human artistry with shallow, mass-produced content takes away humanity from art, do we really want to be part of a world where art is just another disposable product? what value do we place on creativity?
if you’ve made it this far, it means you care about these issues. let’s raise our voices together and speak up. don’t consume AI generated images. value and respect creativity. SUPPORT REAL HUMAN ARTISTS.
