#and i know most people are probably joking

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 12: The One Where We Start Laying the Yellow Brick Road to Italy

I realized the other day that, even though I like to bounce around from place to place in the Lukola timeline, I probably needed to start tightening things up on the ship if I ever wanted to get to the end of the story. And, yes, dammit, this story better have a finale at some point because there’s nothing more annoying than an open-ended ending, particularly in the romance genre.

Today we’re going to take a quick jaunt over to Italy because –

NO! Not because Luke is allegedly filming there. If you’re into real-time stalking, you’re in the wrong blog. But, I’m sure there’s a Discord for that.

It’s because I’ve had several people ask for my opinion about the change in behavior between Luke and Nicola during their Day 1 interviews there. Wait – people are interested in my thoughts? Wow, that’s actually kind of nice. Thank you! Okay, back to what I was saying –

Was there a change in behavior when Luke and Nicola reached Italy? Yeah, actually, there kind of was.

By May 9, we had been gifted with a slew of material from Luke, Nicola, and the Bridgerton cast and, I must admit, those early interviews are some of the most entertaining of the tour. In the very beginning, Nicola appeared as the utmost professional – charming, intelligent, and witty at the right moments – and Luke played her likeable counterpart to “Book Colin” perfection – bouncing between being awkwardly boyish and wickedly roguish, all while looking at Nicola like she had just served him homemade peanut butter crumble.

The two of them together, playing off each other, in my opinion, was better than Bridgerton Season 3 (you cannot beat the World Tour being 99% Luke and Nicola, with only a few random side characters taking up screentime). There was some major “Electric Love” radiating from those two throughout the tour, but it seemed very much heightened in the beginning (probably because they hadn’t yet answered the same question 67 times). By the way, if you haven’t heard that song by Børns, go have a listen. It will, at the very least – hopefully – put you in an upbeat mood for the day.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes – was there a change in behavior between Luke and Nicola when they reached Italy?

Absolutely.

Do I know why?

Absolutely not.

Perhaps Luke was bent because someone spilled his coffee, or Nicola was upset because her stylist made her to wear that little silver bow in her hair. In my opinion, the most intriguing part of Day 1 of the Italy press junket was that Luke and Nicola struggled with answering the question, “What is love?” I swear they both babbled on like two kids in debate class who hadn’t bothered to read the material given to them before taking their respective podiums. They finally seemed to settle on Luke’s “Maybe it’s, like, connection.” Well, they seemed to be missing the “connection” that day.

Honestly, no one can explain their “don’t stand so close to me” vibe during those first day interviews except Luke and Nicola. But, we can at least have some fun and speculate about it with a bird’s eye view. At this point, you should know that I love spreading the puzzle pieces out and seeing how they might all connect. Most people – when putting a puzzle together – start with the side pieces, right? You’ll get my joke in a moment (I hope).

In March 2024 – I don’t know the specific date because my timeline is rather murky going back that far (I was unaware Lukola even existed!) – Luke traveled to Los Angeles for a photo spread with InStyle magazine. I’ve heard two versions of this story. The first being that Luke traveled to Los Angeles with Antonia alone; the second being that he traveled to Los Angeles with his friend group, which included Antonia. I couldn’t tell you which is true, and it really doesn’t matter because it doesn’t necessarily add or take away from today’s story.

Before I get started, I wanted to give a “hurrah” to The-One-Whose-Group-Chat-Fills-in-Lots-of-Missing-Bits-for-Me-Including-the-Part-Where-Video-Footage-of-Antonia-in-Los-Angeles-Seemed-to-Indicate-a-Celebrity-Was-Not-the-Videographer-and-There-Were-So-Many-British-Accents-in-the-Background-One-Would-Fancy-a-Guess-She-was-Traveling-with-a-Group.

Moving along…

On April 7, 2024, Antonia posted a series of photographs and clips to her Instagram grid indicating she had been in Los Angeles, including one where she was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory and one where she was sitting at a table marked with the number “95.” On April 14, she posted a second set of photographs, tagging her location as Beverly Hills, California and using “End of Beginning” as her audio (yes, I side-eyed this choice of music so don’t feel bad if you did as well). The second photo dump included her lounging on a rooftop.

I’m not going to delve into posts made by Luke and Nicola during that timeframe. I mean, I’m sure Nicola’s comment, “’Friends’…sure Jan,” on Luke’s April 11 reshared post about Bridgerton Season 3 was only meant to be applicable to Polin. And, if Luke wanted to use yellow and black hearts to represent the colors Nicola and he were wearing in his April 12 post, that’s cool, too. And, I am definitely not going to speculate on Nicola’s April 15 post (for Big Mood) that Luke liked, and she captioned, “I will bite off anything that dangles.”

By April 21, Luke and Nicola were in Australia at the World Premiere of Bridgerton. I am only going to provide a quick overview of Australia instead of a full-fledged recital because, at some point, I will almost certainly dedicate an entry to this country. Let’s start with Luke pulling off the hottest walk-up in Netflix human history (I mean, have you watched it in slow motion?). Then, we had the hard launch of the handholding business (because why again?). And, we had Luke tripping over his words, “We’re very, like, giving…I’m not talking about those scenes…” Oh, and Nicola telling an interviewer that, “[y]ou can’t keep a good girl down,” and, in response, Luke’s lips curling into a wicked-ass Cheshire cat's. We had them in the garden, with Nicola bending down to hug Luke after she had scratched/hit/petted his head. Perhaps I should not mention the possibility of a man’s shirt being visible on a bed behind Nicola (I said possibility not that it was). And, Nicola telling Luke, “You’re the funnier one,” when he was concerned that perhaps Benedict was funnier than Colin. Then we had the “Nicola-in-the-green-dress” day where, as they were going down the steps, Luke seemed to instinctively reach for Nicola’s hand, but she played it cool and took his arm instead. Oh, and that entire “green dress” day in general (I mean, there was so much shit going on that day). And, best we do not forget Nicola saying, “the best foundation for love is friendship,” which mirrored the bracelet “someone…in Australia” gave Luke that read, “Do you believe the best foundation for love is friendship?” Because that’s not suspicious at all. Alright, let’s get the fuck out of Australia – but not before I mention Nicola commenting on Luke’s April 27 Instagram post with “Ready for the next?” and Luke replying, “Absolutely.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, their shenanigans in Australia expanded the USS Lukola tenfold.

Oh, also, let me throw this in here because, if you are a “ring truther,” this fact plays a significant role in the Lukola timeline. If you do not know what a “ring truther” is, that’s perfectly fine. You can catch up by reading Entry 6 (The One Where I Explained the Claddagh Ring to My Dad) of my blog. I mentioned in Entry 6 that some Lukola sleuths have stated the metadata they pulled from the sketches of the Claddagh ring uploaded by Chupi indicate they were done as early as April 26. In other words, it means the Claddagh was likely commissioned between Australia and Italy. In fact, if we are to believe Chupi when it said it took four weeks to make the ring, then it had to have been commissioned by May 9, 2024, at the latest. Oh, lookie there, that’s Day 1 of the Italy interviews.

But, before we get to May 9, let’s pause on April 29. That was the day Luke’s InStyle spread was published – yes, the one I mentioned earlier. Luke has pictures from this photoshoot still on his Instagram grid – in fact, Nicola commented, “Yess dude!!” on them – but those aren’t the pictures I want to talk about. No, I want to talk about the pictures InStyle posted on its Instagram grid that day. These photographs came directly from Luke, which was confirmed by the InStyle article when it said, “…the actor delighted the InStyle team by delivering the polaroid photos he’d taken for this story tucked oh-so-carefully in a little brown bag for safekeeping.” The pictures Luke provided, among others, included one where he was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles; one where he was sitting at a table marked with the number “95;” and one where he is sitting in a lounge chair on a rooftop. If you want to see the pictures, InStyle still has them available – you just need to go through hundreds of posts to find them. Luke did not like this InStyle post, which was kind of odd because he was tagged in it, and they were reportedly his pictures.

Why did these InStyle polaroids seem so familiar?

Oh, that’s right, because they were.

Remember that April 7 post of Antonia’s I mentioned a bit ago? Yeah, the one where Antonia posted a bunch of random pictures from Los Angeles and – only after InStyle posted Luke’s polaroids – fans realized Antonia had preemptively posted her version of some of Luke’s polaroids.

I am not going to speculate too much about these pictures or their implications in this blog post, but these pictures may resurface in future posts because I find myself side-eyeing the fact they even exist. And, we should probably accept that Luke was aware of them before his pictures came out on April 29 because he threw a like on Antonia’s April 7 post. Could it have been a “blind” like? Sure, I guess, but the logical side of my brain says he probably looked through them at the time she posted. Let’s not worry too much about it right now, though.

After trying to write out my “general” opinion about the pictures several times, I finally decided that the best way I could articulate my thoughts was through the conversation I had with my father. Yes, Dear Dad returns again for another insightful Q&A.

I started by showing Luke and Antonia’s three “matchy” pictures to my dad and then asked him to compare them. To be clear, the pictures were their respective Griffith Observatory, Table 95, and Rooftop Lounging pictures.

Me: “So what do you think?”

Dad: “About what?”

Me: “Ugh! Why did Antonia take those pictures?”

Dad: “Well, to show she’s part of the ‘in’ crowd. The only reason I can see them being taken is if she was going to put them on the Internet.”

Me: “Uhh, as a matter of fact, she did put them on the Internet! Approximately three weeks before Luke’s were published.”

Dad: “See! I’m not as dumb as you think.”

Me: “Whatever. So, you really believe that? She took them to show people that she was, like, there?”

Dad: “Yeah. Why else would she take them? They’re not the kind of photos you’d take normally. What’s she going to do, put them in an album and show her friends in five years and say, ‘Look, I sat in Luke’s chair?’ Who does that? Nobody. Plus, Luke’s pictures look like they were taken with a polaroid camera and Antonia took hers with, I guess, a phone. Why use two different cameras? Again, it doesn’t make sense. Seems to me like she knew what pictures he was taking, and she was trying to copy them so she could put them on the Internet.”

Thanks, Dad.

You do not have to accept my father’s thoughts on the photographs. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. However, I think we can meet in the middle and opine that, at a minimum, Antonia’s pictures caused the weak Lukolas to jump overboard; at most, they gave some people stalker vibes; and somewhere in between, they introduced Antonia's negative influence over the fandom and what some may consider trolling behavior (even if it wasn’t recognized then).

Now, before we land in Italy on May 9, let’s summarize what has happened during the preceding two months.

First, we had Luke traveling to Los Angeles in March with Antonia, either alone or as part of a friend group. Luke had pictures of himself taken while there.

Second, we had Antonia posting pictures in early April that would be linked directly to Luke’s pictures by the end of the month.

Third, throughout the month of April, we had Luke and Nicola traveling together for the World Tour. We have all seen these interviews, and we have all formed independent opinions about them.

Fourth, based on Chupi’s own words, we know the Claddagh ring must have been commissioned no later than May 9.

Okay, now we’ve reached May 9, Day 1 of the Italy press junket.

Besides the press interviews, what happened on that day?

Well, Antonia reposted Luke singing Coldplay’s “Yellow” to her TikTok account.

Uhh… Huh. Interesting.

I mean, it’s possible that this was just a coincidence and she just liked Luke’s version of it. Or, it’s possible Antonia knew that “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song and she anticipated trolling Nicola and/or the fandom with it. But, if we believe she knew “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song, that means either Luke told her, or someone with that knowledge told her (i.e., someone from Luke’s team or family/friend group). We also know that Luke mentioned this song in the May 16, 2022 Netflix Tudum article when Nicola and he were asked about their song choices for Season 3. Luke stated his frontrunner was “Yellow” by Coldplay “because of Penelope’s dresses.” Regardless of why Antonia posted the song, I find it hard to imagine Netflix, Bridgerton, Shondaland, Nicola, or Luke were too impressed by Antonia resharing it on TikTok. I mean, at this point, Netflix & Co. would surely have been aware that Antonia’s “copycat post” went over with the fandom like a wet blanket in December in Canada. I imagine some questions were being asked and Luke may very well have received a hand slap from Corporate – and maybe even from Nicola.

But, that’s not the only thing that happened on May 9.

Luke posted his Homme magazine spread to his Instagram grid on that day, too. He captioned the post, “Chatting through all things S3 with @hommeplusmag [o]ut next week x.” Nicola commented, “Yessss,” and Luke tagged his post with the location of Hackney, London. That last part – about Luke tagging the location in Hackney – apparently sent the fandom into a deep-dive of…Nicola’s backyard. Why? Because Nicola lives in Hackney (Nicola herself confirmed she lived in Hackney in a March 18, 2024 interview with Derry Now), and rumors started to circulate that Luke’s pictures were taken at her home.

Hmm, I didn’t realize May 9 was such a busy day, did you?

So, which came first – the chicken or the egg? Did Antonia repost “Yellow” to her TikTok before Luke posted his Homme in Hackney images to Instagram, or vice versa? I’m sure someone out there has this information. The answer might help shine some light as to why Luke and Nicola seemed “off” in the early part of their Day 1 Italy interviews. But, then again, does the order really matter? Regardless of who posted first, it would seem to me that “Yellow” was a very possible culprit for the different energy on set that day.

That, or Luke really was peeved over someone spilling his coffee.

[seunghyunjigglers]

mama, a stray kid behind YOU ★ @seunghyunjigglers

ot8 skz members as brainrot memes!

author's note: we even included links for some of the less chronically online divas out there (generous much?)! a lot of thought and effort went into this and we hope you love and appreciate our firstborn child. tw: dark humor. betas, do not interact!

chan ★ "i'm the leader, i'm the alpha, i'm the one to trust"

unironically watches bad edits of himself and goes "ayeee" to hype himself up about being edited

comments under them on his secret account

his fyp is now most definitely infiltrated by alpha chan edits

let's be real the whole trend was probably what inspired wolfgang to be released

bites his lip bc he thinks it makes him look sexy and he just looks like he's eating his bottom lip

tries to do that thing where guys put their necklace between their lips and take pics to be sexy but the necklace falls down his throat and he starts choking

would deliberately start doing aegyo followed by serving face to show his 'duality' since apparently the fandom love it (poor guy doesn't understand irony still)

LOVES when stays talk about his gyatt and starts using it bc he thinks its just another normal word for ass and seungmin and felix almost throw up laughing at him

minho ★ "queen never cry"

genuinely thought 'lock in' was something to be taken seriously and does NOT take it lightly when chan tells everyone to lock in

his kinky ass also probably thought it was some kind of jail roleplay (jisung had to explain it to him)

has mewing competitions with himself in the mirror

makes 'minho never CRY 💜' the note on his alarm in the morning

thinks it’s funny when he recommends the ki sisters manga (where the meme comes from) to people as his favorite series and the poor author has to actually go on a talk show cause he blew it up with the internet

checks his notifications EVERY day hoping someone will edit him with that baby

accidentally comments “queen NEVER cry” under a sentimental skz edit on the official account and wakes up with several calls from his managers.. let’s just say it didn’t go over well

changbin ★ "gadagadegadagadao" (omega nugget)

he stumbled across this meme on felix's fyp one evening and thought it would make the best vocal warmup for his raps, didn't realise it was a joke and actually uses it before recording tracks

when he discovers its a meme he thinks its hilarious and makes it his whole personality

stops mid convo with people and makes the face and thinks he's so funny (everyone is tired of it)

orders mcdonald's for everyone and takes the time to draw the face on EVERY chicken nugget and couldn't be prouder of himself

genuinely thinks the song is an actual banger and has it saved as a sample for a potential title track

hyunjin ★ "donatella VERSACE"

only types like THIS 💜 and felix and seungmin are the only ones who get it

chan finds out and secretly changes his name in a groupchat with their managers and staff to "hwang HYUNJIN 💜"

he is tired but donatella is not

his gag christmas present for secret santa is boxers with ms versace herself covering his chocolate starfish and he has a wardrobe malfunction while wearing them at a show and EVERYONE sees

is actually really embarrassed when he has to explain what it means to her and she just nods and tries to smile with all her botox

after this she comments it on all her posts and he accepts that he’s never escaping it

jisung ★ "jiafei 'in my head' remix" (floptropica)

this man is always singing his lungs out in every skz code and somewhere along the way he saw an edit of him with jiafei's vocals in the bg

was actually impressed by her vocal skills and tried to hunt down her ig page, ends up on some fake floptropican fanpage but he doesn't know this because he has minimal survival skills

dms some loser message like "wow your voice is sooooo nice haha...i also like to sing lol...so do you like korean boys haha..."

owner of the jiafei fan account is a stay and thinks this is hilarious and catfishes the hell out of him for WEEKS, sends vocal edits and jisung unironically eats them up, he def sends back vms of him doing vocal covers to impress her

felix hears him singing a jiafei remix one day and almost shits himself laughing, jisung gets angry and defensive until felix reveals that jiafei is literally a meme

realises he's been catfished

blocks the account and gets sulky whenever any floptropican edit pops up on his fyp, but still sings the jiafei remixes quietly to himself (some habits are hard to break)

felix ★ "oi oi oi...baka" (freaky larvae)

recreates it and everyone takes it seriously and he has to make a video telling everyone it was not in fact a thirst trap

breaks up serious arguments like "we need to calm down...you're all being a bunch of...heh...bakas..."

searches it up one day to see if there's any other lore and accidentally discovers a yagami yato audio and gets traumatised

seungmin gets fed up by felix constantly repeating it so he comes up with a master plan and during one of their japan concerts says "oh, felix has been practicing his japanese lately...what's that thing you keep saying?"

i feel like he'd perfect that freaky expression and everyone is sick of him and changbin for randomly using them

picks larva on his turn to choose something for movie night and everyone comically (see what i did there) groans and gets up while he’s just there cracking up

seungmin ★ "saddam hussein hiding spot"

this guy saw a 'saddam hussein hiding spot' comment under jeongin's post and fell down the rabbithole (or rather, the entrance covered in bricks and rubble)

thinks its HILARIOUS because it's a historically accurate meme (nerd!)

definitely whispers it every single time he sees someone or something laying down and everyone is so fed up with it, also gets felix to do the voice since he can imitate it perfectly

uses it as an excuse to randomly start lying down during dance practices and when everyone complains he just says "why am i lowkey serving saddama hussein hiding spot?"

he'd take this shi so seriously like he'd be doing the math to figure out how much time to spend on each app each day so he can make his daily screen time average look like saddam hussein JUST to make the reference

jeongin ★ "that feeling when knee surgery is tomorrow"

someone makes a comment about how they tore their acl and have to get knee surgery and he goes "that feeling when knee surgery is tomorrow" and starts laughing

it wasn't very funny to said someone

probably has to make one of those formal instagram apology posts because of it (he sets the music as the bg for the original post but his manager makes him delete it and post again)

fake falls at practice and when everyone crowds around him all worried he says he feels like he might need knee surgery tomorrow and gets kicked out of the room

pays an insane amount of money to get everyone matching knee surgery knee pads for practice and absolutely loses it every time someone actually needs to use it and has no other choice

posts a fake hospital pic with “do NOT get your knee surgery from shein !!” on his secret account

asks for permission to change his pfp to the grinch and considers outing jyp when he gets told no

[nanaooyoo]

nct jisung oneshot

request for anon: you have a kid without your highschool boyfriend ever finding out. sorry this request took a long while my life has been so insane lately that I haven’t had time to do much of anything besides work. Anyways enjoy ✨

warnings/headsup: light swearing • teen pregnancy • tiny bit of angst • major fluff fest • 7.8k words • female reader • light proofread • jisung x reader kiss • melodrama • crisp autumn vibes • dad!jisung • D/N = daughters name • miscommunication • so much cheesiness

Moving On: Jisung x Reader pt. I/I

High school was a complicated time for Jisung. He was managing school, keeping up with friends, dealing with his overbearing family, and a slew of extracurriculars, all while making sure to pay attention to you; his girlfriend. Sometimes it all felt like too much, sometimes he felt like he should just quit. Nevertheless, you were always there to support him. You were constantly by his side and that’s what really mattered. Whether it was bringing him snacks in between classes, helping him study during free periods, waiting for him at the dance studio while he practiced, or just being a shoulder to lean on and a safe space to vent whenever he may have needed it you were there... Jisung couldn’t even express how grateful he was for having you around! Even with all his appreciation and love for you however, he still wasn’t aware of just how far you were expending yourself to keep him happy and healthy.

People often joked about just how close you two were, how you were like second mother to Jisung and his entire friend group, the way you were always ready and able to give them rides and take care of Jisung and all the people important to him. Jisung’s mother would have probably said the opposite. Though she was never overt about it you know she didn’t like you. She would scowl whenever Jisung left you two alone together and the smile she forced on her face whenever he brought you home was just about the fakest thing you’d ever seen. Jisung always tried his best to talk you up to his parents, but where his mother was stubborn and resentful, his father was uninterested and indifferent. He didn’t want to believe that the people that had raised him couldn’t see in you what he saw, it pained him to think about so he just didn’t. He was in complete denial most times about the relationship between your two families and the fact that you came from much lower economic means didn’t help your case. When he first pitched the idea of you being his girlfriend to his mom and dad that was the very first thing they pointed out in fact! That didn’t stop him however. He would just tell himself that they were overly protective and that you and his mom were actually quite similar. You two would have to get along at some point… at least he hoped you would…

Jisung almost never failed to point out your motherly instincts: to protect him from bad news, to make sure he excelled in everything he did, to simply keep his head afloat. Unfortunately, no one knew just how that instinct would eventually have to develop. For better or for worse that instinct might have just been the end of the life you were once so used to.

It was late spring when you started noticing a bizarre sense of dread in the air as the reality started to set in for everybody that lives were starting to shift and change, and relationships were experiencing a much different sort of ebb and flow. No wonder you felt a little sick, it was the dread in the air! Right?

Sometimes your period was late… but it was never this late... You had no idea what you were supposed to do in a moment like this! A wave of anxiety washed over you and your body as you began to feel queasy. You felt nauseous, and even a fair amount afraid. This might have been the absolute worst time in your life for something like this to happen! You were so close to wrapping up high school. Senior year was supposed to be the last year of you and your peers lives before becoming "real" adults. You were deciding which university to go to and what subjects to major in. You were getting ready to say goodbye to friends and unfortunately hadn’t yet had the sit down talk with your boyfriend about if he was comfortable going long distance or even staying together at all…

You loved Jisung, you really did, but you also loved the idea of a bit of freedom. You would never explicitly say that to him for fear of hurting him or just sounding like you wanted to complain, but you were tired. Tired of being so busy, tired of so many people depending on you, tired of always being referred to as Park Jisung’s girlfriend, tired of his family looking down on you and yours. You honestly thought that most people had forgotten your name at this point. You wanted something of your own, something to explore outside of and away from Jisung, however sweet he was. You thought that college might be time for a change! A chance to reinvent yourself apart from your high school boyfriend and the hovering hand of his mother. No matter how lovely and accomplished he was, you two couldn’t be together forever right? At least that’s what you told yourself. You thought of your parents, you thought of Jisung’s parents. You were sure that if the Park family didn’t already detest you they surely would now. You dreaded what two little lines on a flimsy piece of plastic might mean for all of that. His parents already thought of you as unsophisticated, a burden to Jisung’s future and this would not help your case. You knew you had to tell Jisung while he was still around but you just didn’t know how… but first you had to be sure what you were planning on telling him.

You sat on the cold porcelain of the toilet seat all alone but face still flushed with warmth from embarrassment. You got up and washed your hands and gave yourself a once over in the mirror. You barely recognized your own visage. The bags under your eyes had bags, and the dark circles looked more like new permanent attachments than temporary indications of sleepiness. You subconsciously prayed to whatever god was out there that your period was just late again this time. “It’s just two or three weeks” you told yourself looking back to your reflection in your bathroom mirror and plastering on your best cheery smile. It only lasted a moment but for a fragment of a fragment of a second you were almost smiling genuinely no matter the result.

You went and did a quick lap around your house to release as much pent up stressful energy as possible but also to make sure your parents really were out of the house. You peeked out through the living room curtains one last time just making sure that there were no cars other than your own parked in the driveway. You ran back up the stairs as soon as you heard the faint ringing of the alarm you had set on your phone. You couldn’t stop the trembling of your hands as you picked up the little pink and white pregnancy test you had set on the edge of the counter. You sucked in a deep breath, inhaling sharply through your nose as the sheer terror and excitement of what you were looking at created a blockade in your throat. You felt a tingling sensation all over, unable to properly breathe, only sucking in air for another few seconds before finally letting out your first breath in what felt like several minutes.

Although, it wasn’t just any regular breath, it was a laugh. Well less of a laugh and more or a low groan that slowly turned into a chortle. You practically keeled over as you fell to the ground on your hands and knees, stomach and back heaving as sloppy tears fell down on the sides of your face and almost splashed back into your eyes with the velocity at which they hit the tiled floor. You didn’t know what your reaction would be once you looked at the test but you definitely did not expect this! You were so afraid before, so worried, so adamant that you wanted, needed it to be negative! Now here you were staring at the two thin lines on the near microscopic test screen indicating a positive result and all you could think of was how you hope’d it’d be a girl.

𖦹

“So I have good news and I have bad news” you whispered to Jisung as you two sat in the back of the school library “do you want to hear the good news or the bad news first”?

“Uhm I don’t know… I guess the bad news” he said.

You screamed internally, wondering why he just had to choose the bad option first. Jisung rifled through several books struggling to pick one for a final paper, paying you little mind as he laced his fingers through yours absentmindedly and dragged you down each aisle of bookshelves behind him.

It had been about a day or two since you had taken the test and you had even talked it over with your parents. They were understandably uneasy at first when you said you planned on keeping the child but you assured them that you would absolutely keep working on your studies. You told them you would talk to Jisung yourself and figure out the rest from there, and all your parents could do was support you and whatever decisions you made, the best they possibly could. They could see the stress in your eyes as you mentioned next steps. Though your parents supported your relationship they weren’t too fond of Jisung’s family either. The pretentious nature and lack of grace when talking about their son’s girlfriend, your parent’s daughter, it made them upset to say the least. The thought of having to join your two families was the last thing they wanted to think about right now. You explained to them in detail exactly how you wanted to move forward with your life and what you planned on telling your boyfriend in the process. “Just let him down easy” your mother said, knowing how difficult of a conversation this would be, especially to have so young “don’t tell his mom… tell him.” Your mother’s voice was emotional and awkward and your dad gave you a half hearted smile and stiff hug. Their words rang in your head as you looked up at Jisung.

“Are you sure you want to hear the bad news first?” You asked, hoping that if you told him the good news was that you were pregnant, he would already be on board to end the relationship and you wouldn’t have to say what you had to say next and his mom would never have to be proven right about how messy she thought you were.

“No I want to hear the bad stuff first and just get it over with” he said reaching over you with ease to grab a book off the highest shelf. “Hey do you think this would work?” He clicked his tongue paging through whatever novel he had picked up this time.

You sighed… “okay but it’s really important so I need you to really listen!”

Jisung continued checking out books and only really half listening to you. “Of course” he said as he carried on skimming all the literature around him.

“Jisung I’m serious! I didn’t want to do this here but this is the first time we’ve been alone together all week!”

“Totally…” he responded

“Jisung look at me!”

“I am looking at you…” (he wasn’t). He kissed your hand tenderly, muttering the words on the page he was looking at to himself.

“Jisung!”

“What babe?”

His nonchalance angered you. Couldn’t he tell how upsetting this was for you? “Jisung I want to break up!” You swore you could hear a pin drop on the complete opposite side of the library. You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest in the time it took for Jisung to fully absorb what you had said. Those few seconds felt like an eternity, but once they were over you already wanted to go back to before you had said anything.

“You’re joking…” he said, actively scoffing in your face.

What ensued was potentially the first and only ever argument between you and your then, now ex boyfriend. All you really remembered was how he kept asking "why". You told him all the little reasons, how you wanted space, how you couldn’t do long distance, how your families would never get along, but you omitted the most important reason... Sure those other things were true but you also just couldn’t see yourself raising a child with the first guy you had ever slept with, and Jisung had so much going for him, you knew there was no way a dance career could have him stationed in one place long enough to focus on a new family. His mother would never let him have a kid with you, you just knew it! She would think you were trapping him, his father would question you incessantly, and Jisung would eventually have to choose between his prospective future or yours. So you decided to choose for him.

“So we’re just over then” his voice was hoarse and defeated “you don’t want to see me again”…

All you could do was nod “this one should work well, it fits all the criteria for the paper”. You said, handing Jisung a hefty book of the shelf, helping him for seemingly the last time…

You couldn’t completely avoid Jisung the last few weeks of school. You both had sort of silently agreed to keep as much distance as possible, only speaking to each other when absolutely necessary. When people asked why you two had broken up you both had slightly different answers but they both went along the lines of “growing apart.” It really hurt to think about, especially all that was left unsaid but you simply had to trudge forward. The last time you saw Jisung was at graduation where you each exchanged a friendly yet faintly sour handshake and wished each other good luck. You watched the smug smile on his mother’s face as you two parted ways and the way she turned up her nose when your dad foolishly went in for a cordial handshake.

You sort of regretted not telling him about your ‘situation’ but you also felt like it was for the best! You thought you might never see him again and once your daughter D/N was born nothing else mattered. You put off school for a bit, moved to a new town and got very used to living alone with just you and your little girl. You put all your best skills to use once you had entered university. All your experience planning, keeping others organized, staying on task, and being a mother really lended itself to your field and your incredible business acumen was undeniable. You worked hard to make sure that you and your daughter could live in the best house, afford the nicest dinners, get the very best babysitters, and whatever else would make the little one’s life easier.

Obviously you still thought about him. Every time you looked at your child’s face you saw him. Every laugh, every cough and sneeze, every silly statement, every whine just reminded you of him. She never asked about her father but you wondered if she would eventually start. You sort of did want her to meet Jisung but your life had changed so much since, you wondered if after all these years if he would even care. You weren’t immune to looking him up every now and then or asking your parents if they had heard any news about him or his family. You suspected he would be angry or hurt if he found out, and he had every right to be. Despite that though, you still just wanted to see him again, even if it was just to yell at you for lying or cuss you out, even for just a brief moment you wanted to see him…

𖦹

“There’s no way… there’s no way…” Jisung muttered to himself slowly bringing his shopping cart to a halt and planting his feet firmly in the middle of the aisle. People gave him dirty looks and confused stares. He stood there, oblivious, only focused on a woman about his age, a woman he’d recognize anywhere even from a hundred feet away, a woman who nearly shattered his heart into a million pieces and broke up with him before moving across the country and becoming the most successful person from their high school by a mile. It couldn’t be, or rather it shouldn’t be!

What were you doing back in your home town? He wondered. The last he had heard you graduated college with about a million academic achievements under your belt, and were making more money than he could ever dream of at some big conglomerate. Though there you were, same put together appearance, same pretty face, same sweet voice, bending over to talk to a little girl who looked just like you. He did a double take, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses just to make sure he was really seeing what he thought he was seeing. He squinted and blinked and did just about everything he could to clear his vision but nothing changed. All he saw was you.

He felt like he had to say something… if he didn’t he thought he might go insane. What kind of guy would he be to just ignore your presence. Sure you two hadn’t ended things on the best note but that was years ago, and you were just kids at the time! Maybe you’d forgiven him at this point. At one point Jisung wasn’t sure if all the resentment he once held for you was gone but seeing you in person just confirmed that it was. There was no reason to be mad anymore. He really missed you. He just wanted to talk to you again…

Was it really you standing there? The child didn’t look that old but was she really yours? Had you moved on so quickly after leaving town, after leaving him? Who were you with now? His head was spinning like a freshly oiled revolving door and full to the brim flooded with questions.

Jisung felt like his stomach did a 360 degree flip as he tepidly approached you. “Y/N” he stated more than asked hoping but already knowing it was you. Though, in case he was wrong he braced himself for a much more awkward encounter.

You almost dropped the can of food you were holding blinking rapidly and registering the person before you. “Jisung?” You said, giving him a once over. He was somehow even taller now with jet black hair and dark thick rimmed glasses slightly covering his tired brown eyes. He was as cute as ever. There he stood looking pretty much the same as he did when you left, but boy was he handsome!

“Jisung what’re you doing here?” You asked out of impulse, already knowing the answer. You acted like you hadn’t heard he was in town from your mother who ran into his folks a couple weeks ago, who proceeded to unabashedly brag about their son to her. Of course you then immediately went and stalked him on social media.

“I- I came back recently for a family reunion…” his face was a bit strained as he said it and then he trailed off, noticing the little girl who shyly held your hand once more. Up close she looked ever more like you, down to the way she looked him up and down and examined him with curious eyes. She stared without a shred of recognition on her face or in her eyes but still refused to break eye contact with the strange adult towering over her. He also couldn’t help but notice the way her cheeks rounded out the same way his did as a child and how her face transitioned into the same confused expression he made, mirroring him perfectly.

“What are you doing here?” He said trying his best to look at you and to not stare back at the little girl clinging to your side examining him like a foreign creature trapped behind bars at the zoo.

“I’m visiting my parents” you said clearing your throat a bit “with my daughter.” You raised her little hand trying to make her wave.

“How old is she?” He asked, mentally doing the math of just how long ago you two broke up.

“She’s five…” you said bashfully. You tried to run every possible scenario in your head about what the best course of action would be in this moment. Was it selfish to just keep the information to yourself, or was it better to just tell him now. Maybe the grocery store wasn’t the best place to let Jisung know that you’ve sort of been hiding a secret daughter from him for the past five years, but also the longer you hid it from him the worse you felt. You had to tell him, it really felt like now or never. You had kept her from him for so long it just felt cruel at this point. Plus, even though your daughter was young the way she eyed Jisung up and down made you feel paranoid enough that she had already figured it out herself. Maybe Jisung already knew too, maybe he wanted nothing to do with you or more importantly with her, but you still had to tell him. The words had to come out of your own mouth whether you wanted to speak them or not! You had to make up for the immature decision you made at that time. It was like you were in that library all over again...

“Hey do you want to meet up- I mean we should probably talk, it’s been a long time”. You fumbled over your words not sure exactly what to say.

Jisung perked up “I’m free tomorrow. If you wanna grab coffee!” He was happy you took the initiative to invite him out because god knows he didn’t have the courage to do it himself.

“That sounds... nice!” you said as the little girl tugged on your arm mumbling something about wanting to watch some tv show at grandma and grandpa’s.

“I assume your number’s still the same.” He said remembering all the times he meant to text you but stopped himself out of fear.

“Yeah it is.” You said. You felt the same giddy feeling you got on the first day of high school when a cute boy in your homeroom asked for your number for “study purposes.” There was that cute boy once again standing in front of you giving you the same smile he gave you when you first met. A smile you hadn’t seen in years, but healed a hurt you didn’t know you had inside instantly.

You had to chew on your cheeks to hide your smile as you drove home. You could see your daughter in the rear view mirror drumming her little fingers on the arm rest of her car seat along to the music on the radio. You would peek at her every once in a while and try to gauge her focus. What was she thinking about? Was she afraid of him? Was she curious about him? Did she even care?

You cleared your throat only half getting her attention as she sang along to the words of whatever song was playing, mostly making up her own lyrics and swaying in her seat. “So what did you think of mommy’s friend?” You asked.

She didn’t respond for a bit or even give you any indication that she heard you. She was silent for a few minutes before speaking. “He’s nice… but… too tall…” she said.

“You might be tall like that one day” you chuckled “would you ever want to meet him again?” You wanted to at least have an idea of what to tell Jisung when you saw him next. In your mind, your daughter’s opinion (though still young and uninformed) mattered the most. If she wanted nothing to do with him at this time it didn’t matter what Jisung’s response was. All that mattered was her and what her needs were.

“Is he good at playing games?” She added out of the blue.

“What?”

“Mommy’s friend... Is he good at playing games?”

“Uhm, I guess so? From what I remember he was always fun. I’m sure he’d be good at playing games.” You smiled at her through the rear view mirror a little “Why D/N? Did you want to play a game with him?”

Your daughter just looked out the window and nodded her head, soon after getting distracted. “When are we getting home? I wanna watch my show.” She huffed and grumbled almost like an adult. Almost like Jisung.

“Soon.” You said.

As you pulled into the driveway and walked into your parent’s house, your daughter was practically vibrating with energy. She practically dove out of the car as you unbuckled her seatbelt, running into the home as your mother opened the door and greeted her with a big hug.

“How was the store?” Your mother asked as she ushered your little one down the hall to go bother your father in the living room.

“It was alright… I ran into Jisung…” you walked over to the kitchen and placed a few shopping bags on the counter.

Your mother looked surprised “both of you?”

You sighed “both of us.”

“What did he say?”

“He asked to grab coffee, he actually seemed happy to see me!”

“Were you happy to see him?” Your mother asked.

“Of course I was! It was awkward but I have to tell him sooner or later. Whether he wants to be in her life or not I have to tell him.”

“-and you think the best way to do that is over coffee?”

“No!” You said. “But I might not have another chance.”

Your mother looked at you with this awkward guilty expression on her face. She started to unpack the groceries biting her lip and looking everywhere but into your eyes.

“What? Do you really think it’s that bad of an idea?”… there was silence as she opened the fridge and began to rearrange some condiments, suspiciously shaking her head as if to neither completely agree or disagree. “You think I should keep it from him? Mom it's been long enough, it would just be wrong to not tell him. D/N wants to meet him! Why are you being so weird about this? Aren’t you the one who told me I should tell him the next time I see him?”

“What if he already knows?” Your mother blurted out.

“So what if he already knows…” you furrowed your eyebrows “wait… what do you mean?”

“Nothing” your mother said.

You knew that was bullshit. “Did you tell him?” You asked in a frustrated tone. “You told him didn’t you—”

Your mother looked at you and then went back to avoiding your fiery gaze. She was never good at keeping secrets but you thought something of this magnitude would be able to stay hidden. She promised to let you tell him on your own terms, so why had she betrayed you?

It took her a while to fess up but eventually she did, sort of… “I didn’t tell him directly, it just sort of slipped out… I— I just had to say something she was so… ugh!” Your mother groaned.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You asked and took a deep breath. Your mother swallowed harshly and looked down at the floor. “I promise to hear you out, I just want to know what I’m getting into mom.”

“It was around last month… Your dad has been golfing so much lately, so he got us a membership to the country club with the money you gave him for his birthday. I don’t personally use it much but he loves it down there, and I like to use the pool, and the tennis court is nice, and every once in a while I like to just sit in one of the dining rooms with a glass of wine, and…”

You sucked in your cheek as your mom rambled knowing that she couldn’t avoid the point forever. “Yeah exactly.” You said dryly.

Your mother gulped once more “To make a long story just a bit shorter… The Park family also goes there and I ran into Jisung’s mother, and she was just bragging about him nonstop and she hinted that he was better off without you and I just remembered how much you loved that boy! She was talking about some date he went on and how great this girl was. Greater than my daughter? I doubt it! She thought her son could do no wrong! That he was so perfect and you were so not… I just couldn’t help but tell her that whether she liked it or not you two would always be connected! I- I looked at her and I said ‘ya know you may want to let your son know that you already have a granddaughter and she’s not related to that rich heiress you want him with so bad!’ That’s what I said to her for looking down on us all these years… I told her about how my daughter and my daughter’s daughter were just about the most wonderful thing in this world and she had no right to talk about you or even her own son that way.”

“You really said all that stuff?”

“Yes…” Your mother replied hesitantly.

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes and a swell of emotion inside you. You put a hand over your mouth to stop the audible sobbing that threatened to leave your mouth. You could tell just how long your mother had been holding in those words. She was always so non confrontational but the fact that she said all that warmed your heart. You were angry at first but in this moment you realized that it didn’t matter what Mrs. Park or even your ex boyfriend thought of you. You had some choice words for Jisung’s parents as well but you knew it would create more trouble to let them out. All that mattered was that your mother loved you guys enough to be proud of you. You always felt a bit embarrassed when having to explain to others that you weren’t the babysitter you were just a teen mom, but your own mother didn’t even care. She loved you all the same and made sure that no one would let you feel ashamed of yourself. “I should’ve known you couldn’t keep a secret anyways.” You said choking up a bit. You gave your mother the biggest hug you had probably ever given in your entire life, and she hugged you right back!

“You aren’t angry?” She asked.

“Oh I’m furious” you said “but not at you. I have no idea what I did to make that woman hate me so much but I’m glad you stood up to her!”

Your mother sighed. “I know you wanted to do it on your own terms but I feel like she might’ve already told him… I just don’t know for sure.”

“It’s alright.” You said. You and your mother finished unloading the groceries, tearfully laughing at how strange the whole encounter must have been. The thought of your soft-spoken mother raising her voice at a stern and snarky lady filled you with joy. Just imagining the shocked look on Jisung’s mom’s face was enough to keep a slight smile on yours for the rest of the day.

Later that night, after putting D/N to bed, you sat on the couch with your parents commiserating about all the awful experiences you had with the Park family over the years. It had been pent up for so long that all of you took the opportunity to air out even the smallest of grievances.

“I don’t know how such a sweet kid could be related to such obnoxious people” your father said as a small ping emanated from your phone.

You couldn’t stop the butterflies in your stomach as you saw the first text from Jisung in half a decade appear before you.

“Wanna grab that coffee around noon tmrw?” It said.

You considered being coy and waiting a few more minutes to reply but your fingers worked faster than your brain. Before you knew it a “sure!” was sent in response.

Then there was one more ping. One more text. It was small. It was innocuous. It could have meant nothing. But to you, it meant everything. It was one small red heart, one little emoticon that hinted to you that he still might feel the same…

𖦹

The next morning was an early one for you. You spent hours perfecting the exact right image that would make you look good enough to go on what was essentially a date, but not so good that Jisung would immediately clock that you two were on a date. Sure meeting up with an old fling to talk about a secret child over coffee wasn’t the most romantic premise, but you couldn’t help but want to put your best foot forward when it came to him. It was almost shameful to admit internally how much you felt for him, but it was the honest truth. You still loved him.

The ding of the coffee shop door seemed to ring out like a chorus of hollow bell chimes in your ears as your head began spinning. Jisung was sitting at table to the far end of the cafe. You could see the rays of somber light peeking in through the window, diffused by the dusty oranges, reds, and browns of the fall leaves. Jisung fidgeted in his chair looking down at the table, and then his watch, then his phone, and back to the table. Two brown paper cups stood tall on the table in front of him, steam rising from them and collecting on the lenses of his glasses. He cracked his knuckles and gnawed at his fingernails nervously until finally catching a glimpse of you walking towards him. “Y/N” he exclaimed, clumsily getting to his feet and lightly tripping over a leg of his chair.

You tried your best to hold back laughter as he bumbled around, rushing to pull out a chair for you. You smiled and thanked him as you sat down. The rich pungent smell of freshly ground coffee beans and sweet steamed milk filled your nostrils and Jisung gently pushed one cup over to you.

“I assumed you still drank the same coffee. If that’s okay.” He cleared his throat hesitantly.

You could just about burst into tears at this very moment. After all these years he still remembered your coffee order. He was only missing one thing...

“Wait just a second…” he fumbled through his pockets for a moment and pulled out two small packets of sweetener. “I know you like to stir in your own sugar” he said.

Now it was perfect!

“Did you sleep okay?” He asked.

Jisung’s consideration for others, you in particular was always so evident. It’s like he couldn’t stop himself from making the kind of small talk that involved checking in on people. “I did.” You replied.

The two of you spent some time just sitting and catching up. You talked about school, work, old friends, tv shows, and just about everything you two would have talked about and experienced together had you been in contact for the past five and a half years. You didn’t really realize when, but the both of you had slowly transitioned to taking your coffee shop 'date' outside of the coffee shop and made your way to the park across the street. The air was cool and refreshing and Jisung couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud but the way you were bundled up with your scarf, gloved hands clutching your coffee like it might run away from you if you let it go was adorable. He also took not of how your coats subtly matched. Yours a light brown, and his a deep tan color made you two look complimentary, almost like a couple… almost.

“Did your daughter make it in time to watch her show?” He asked out of the blue.

You chuckled “You remembered that? She did actually. She even talked about you a bit after… before she went to bed she asked if I was meeting up with you soon.”

“No way!” He said and bumped your shoulder lightly with his coffee cup.

“Really I mean it! She’s so interested in what I do. She always asks about my friends.”

“Are we still friends?”

Your eyes went wide, your hands tensed up and a chill ran down your spine. “I mean- We were good friends at one point!” You choked on your words not knowing what to say.

“We were more than just good friends Y/N” he said.

“I know…”

Jisung bit his lip and you both looked at each other sheepishly, you caught his gaze and he caught yours before you both broke out into a fit of laughter. You two as a pair had a way of bringing out a silliness within yourselves that had you cackling like hyenas together but looking like absolute madmen to any onlookers passing by.

Your walk in the park was peaceful and comforting. So comforting in fact that you had almost forgotten why you wanted to meet up with him in the first place.

𖦹

“So what was the good news?” He said, taking a sip of his drink.

“What?”

“The good news! Remember before we broke up you said there was good news and bad news… the bad news was the break up and the good news was…” he giggled awkwardly “well I never got to find out”.

Why now of all times did he have to bring that up? What could you even say? You couldn’t run, you couldn’t hunker down somewhere and hide. You had to talk to him. It was now or never.

“Yeah about that… the good news was mostly good news for me”. You were internally facepalming at your high school self’s method of delivery when it came to something so important. ‘Good news and bad news’, how idiotic could you have been.

“That’s okay, I still want to know-” Jisung gently placed your hand in his, picking it up to wrap your fingers within his warm grasp. He knew it might be wrong but he really didn’t want to ask about your relationship status right now. “I was obsessed with everything you did back then, that part of me still really wants to know… Like would it have changed anything? I know that sounds stupid but it’s true…”

You couldn’t help but melt a little being in his hold once again. It lulled you in a way that made you forget the gravity of what you were about to abruptly spit out. “The good news was D/N”! You felt a lump form in your throat and you were jolted back a bit as Jisung stood there frozen in the midst of the cobblestone path. You immediately went into panic mode. Why wasn’t he saying anything? “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, it just felt like the right thing to do at the time and my parents pretty much told me to do whatever I thought was best! I didn’t want to push something so big on you right before graduation” You rambled on and on watching as Jisung seemed to only take in bits and pieces of what you were saying. Still you weren’t sure if he was buying your excuses or if they were going in one ear and out the other. He continued to just stand there stiff as a board tightening his hand around yours as you tried to usher him to a bench to sit down. It took a few minutes, but eventually you two found a quieter more private area of the park to talk it out. Jisung mostly sat and listened to you explain your reasoning for keeping D/N a secret from him for so long but he also acknowledged how this wasn’t information he would have wanted to receive any other way than in person and face to face.

He had always wanted to hear something like this from you but he always imagined it was going to be far in the future after you guys got married. Jisung’s thumb lightly caressed your knuckles and you thought your fingers might go numb from the prolonged hand holding. He looked down at your hand and as quiet as a mouse he laughed.

He laughed… Right there on the bench as the cool breeze swept his hair out of his eyes, he laughed. He slowly met your worried gaze, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes just as they did in yours. “Of course you went on to have the perfect life and be the perfect mother all without me.”

His words caught you off guard “Perfect? I’m like a mess ninety percent of the time, I just keep it together in front of my daughter.” You sniffled a bit “I did- I mean I still do want you to be in her life, it would be good for her…”

“Just for her�� he asked playfully, tears still welling in his eyes.

“...and for me…” you looked down at the ground.

“Would your boyfriend be okay with that?”

“Boyfriend?” You felt the embarrassment return to you. “I haven’t dated anyone since you and I-” you could barely finish your sentence before Jisung’s lips were crashing into yours. His hot breath made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. His eyelashes gingerly brushed against your cheeks as he caught his breath. Exhaling through his nose he went back for more. Maybe it was because it had been so long, maybe it was because he was older and more experienced, but Jisung had never kissed you like this before. There was quiet desperation in the way your lips melded together as if he was asking you, begging you to be his again.

“Me neither” he said breathlessly finally letting you come up for air.

“I thought you had a girlfriend?”

“No way, I haven’t gone on a real date since I started college…”

“But your mother said-“

“My mother has been trying to set me up with some girl whose parents own a couple buildings downtown for ages now.” Jisung cupped your cheek affectionately. “She seems nice and all but it’s hard to go out with anyone else when all I do is think about you!”

“I think about you too.” You treasured the way such simple touches and matter of fact words could flip your worlds upside down. “I wish I had told you sooner… I really wish I told you so much earlier…” You really couldn’t stop the tears from flowing now. You imagined just how crazy you looked crying on a public bench. “One second” you said reaching into your purse and pulling out a few tissues and some baby wipes. You lightly dabbed at the corners of Jisung’s eyes.

He reached over to you and used his thumbs to wipes your face simultaneously. “You’re such a mom.” He joked.

“I don’t understand how you aren’t mad at me right now?” you said.

Maybe he should have been, you wouldn’t have held it against him if he was. “Being with you is the only thing I’ve ever wanted. If that makes me crazy then so what. I’m crazy about you.”

It was hard to hide the shock on your face, you couldn’t believe he had just outright confessed his feelings to you before you even had time to process that wonderfully unexpected kiss.

“Anyways, it’s a relief that D/N is mine. If you had a kid with some other guy I don’t know what I’d do…” he planted another small kiss on your forehead.

“I think your parents would have been elated…” you trailed off.

“Who cares what my parents think! We’re not in highschool anymore!”

You couldn’t help but smile.

“I always knew we were meant to be family, it doesn’t matter how long it took. Just never keep a secret like that from me again” he laughed.

“I promise it’s all honesty from now on” you replied as Jisung pulled you into a warm embrace. He brought your body closer to his, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you two took in the autumn scenery.

𖦹

It took a few weeks of coordinating but Jisung had finally come up to visit you in your home in the city. D/N was probably more excited than you. Your last couple days back at your parent's were spent watching Jisung play with your (now his) daughter in your parents living room. He seemed to have lived up to all her expectations and she had gotten over her qualms with his height one she realized how high up she could sit when on his shoulders.

You still hadn’t told her he was her father. You and Jisung agreed to wait to tell her until you two were more established. Sure you had dated before but this was now a whole new relationship. Your daughter practically leaped from her spot on the couch once she heard the doorbell ring and her dad’s signature tepid knock on the door.

You opened the door to see your boyfriend’s smiling face as he reached down to pick up D/N as she peppered him with questions. “Hey you!” He said nuzzling her nose and leaning over to give you a kiss as your daughter winced in disgust. He lugged in a large rolling suitcase with his one free hand as you ushered him through the front entrance.

“That’s all you brought?” You asked.

Jisung nodded “yeah for now… I was so eager to get over here that I only packed the essentials, I didn’t want to overwhelm you with all my stuff at once.”

“Please Jisung you’re getting ready to move in. You’re going to overwhelm me anyways” you teased.

“I’ll get the rest later! Right now I just want to hang out with you guys!” He put your daughter down and ruffled her hair. “So are you going to give me a tour?” He said leaning down to talk to her at eye level.

She just wordlessly dragged his wrist along to show him all her favorite spots in the house as you trailed along.

Much to the behest of his mother Jisung planned on having many more days like this and little did you know that the ring burning a hole in his coat pocket back in your hometown was the thing he was most excited to bring back in the next suitcase...

[lairofsentinel]

Mourning with the Crows

Warning: I apologise in advance for my bitterness that sometimes spills into the text like the Blight when it comes to the murder of the Lore and tone that Veilguard has done to the DA world.

I've not seen this quest on YouTube or anywhere, so probably it's the only "extra" content you can have for Lucanis, and curiously is the only time where we can ASK HIM about something personal [his opinion on a topic that is not boring coffee or killing].

As it is obvious, it can only be triggered when you let Treviso be blighted.

Before this event, you have to do 3 quests that are the same one copy-pasted three times: go find X, they have became darkspwan, so you have to kill them. This is the fate of 3 crows we interacted with a bit more if you save Treviso: Heir, the crow-trainer [I laugh so much with this character, she can't be less crow at all, what they did to the lore?]; Fletcher, the faction vendor; and Chance Candide, an Orlesian Crow [yes, Orlesian... I'm dying, what's this?!] who gives you some quests about an affair between a Venatori and a Crow if you saved Treviso [and he is totally fine with a Crow abandoning the Crows for love... I'm mourning with the Crows too, for the Crows, for the whole lore]

Anyway, we go to the memorial that has an imposing statue of a Crow, as usual a nice touch of Antivan dramatics, probably the only thing they preserved about the lore.

Teia and Viago are there, and we see them remember the three Crows that we had to kill because they were too far blighted.

No matter what option you pick, Lucanis appears out of the blue with a very sceptical tone:

We are informed [implicitly] here that Lucanis certainly had no friends, just few acquaintances among the crows and local merchants and, of course, cafe workers. Still he wanted to return to that level of familiarity once he recovered his life from the Ossuary, despite the irreversible changes in him.

And here, only here, for FIRST TIME in the whole game, you can ask him something personal, something that makes him a bit more than just coffee jokes and assassin stuff: Do you believe in anything? The most ambitious, brutal question [for dav parameters, of course] we have in this game which has denied us not only the social conflicts of Thedas [and Tevinter in particular!] but also the religious ones. Of course, his answer is as bland as the game in general on these topics: He basically is an atheist, that due to an excess of pain and suffering, "wants to believe" that there is something else hearing people's cries. It's a strange argument to make, since suffering may reinforce the atheist vision of characters, but maybe this small bit of hope he wants to grab was inspired by his own situation in the Ossuary: maybe he found in Rook's action the answers to his pleas for the nightmare of the Ossuary to stop. And maybe he is hoping that after all this pain on Treviso, somehow, some power can help them to heal the city, as his pain was stopped with the presence of Rook in his life. Wishful thinking, Neve would say.

Still, the whole tone of this scene gives a constant atheist vibe to him: he knows there is too much suffering in the world for a big power not to act and help, so maybe, the natural conclusion is that there is no such power at all.

At the end of the scene we have the option to toast for 3 different concepts, each of them "attached" to each of the Crows in the screen: The memory of the dead, to Viago; The future, to Teia, and Vengeance, of course, to Lucanis.

[epickiya722]

Folks, you're not going to like what I have to say. I just know it and I'm warning you of that. I said it once before, but leaks really do make some folks act out in ways that I can't understand. We ain't even got a full translation and already people are saying this ship is canon and that ship is canon... and whatever else. Jumping to conclusions when you don't even have all the facts.

Look, I'm not saying Hori is the best writer. I'm not saying Izuku and Ochako is a bad ship (it's not, there's worse... a lot worse).

But I do think some people are jumping ten steps ahead and I doubt that they are canon romantically. This isn't me being in denial because I could care less about the ship. It's not a ship that makes me sit up at night and cry and want to punch a wall and harass people. No ship for me does.

So far, from what I can gather from the very little information Izuku wants to see Ochako more because... THEY LITERALLY HAVEN'T SEEN EACH OTHER A LOT. In the last chapter, Izuku states that the class haven't been able to catch up and whatnot because over the years they got busy with their careers. The last time they probably had a proper conversation was in high school.

Izuku and Ochako wanting to meet up more doesn't automatically mean they're going to date. Let's not forget, Ochako is one of the first people to become a close friend of Izuku's in their first year. They clicked because they were so similar. They mirror each other even!

They're best friends if anything and wouldn't you want to see your best friend after not seeing them for a long time?

So far, it just feels that this epilogue is them accepting their own feelings about everything that has happened, like a self-reflection and self-acceptance type of deal.

Sometimes, you realize something about yourself when encountering someone who is like you. That's how Izuku and Ochako are to me.

It takes them identifying with the other to come to terms about themselves.

"But the blushing! The handholding!"

So blushing automatically means "I have romantic feelings for you", is what some of you are saying?

Just gonna forget all the times they and others have blushed out of embarrassment or happiness? That even some characters have the blush stickers to show their sweet innocent nature, like Ochako for most of the story?

Izuku blushed at Katsuki in the final chapter out of happiness, so it can't apply here, too? Why does blushing got to only be used in a romantic sense?

Seeing Izuku blushing looking at Ochako is funny when considering he's holding an (possibly) alcoholic beverage in that same shot. My guy is probably drunk. 😆 Jokes aside, jokes aside.

This is Ochako and Izuku, we're talking about here. They're the Queen and King of MHA characters who blush a lot, no matter what is going on.

And the handholding? In MHA? It happens a lot between characters! It's not like anything new or Izuku and Ochako are going to get cooties.

Look, I might make some people laugh or hate me for this one but when I saw this... I was reminded of this.

For those that don't know, that is from the Predator (1987). Yes, that Predator.

Two characters that have been friends for a long time and just happy to see each other.

We seen this kind of handshake like this before between characters of different and same genders. Either as a greet or as an agreement.

Izuku and Ochako are just agreeing to see each other more and that they should allow themselves to live happy lives. That doesn't mean they're going to start dating and having babies the following week.

"Bakugou is being treated like his wingman!"

Ah, stop right there. Katsuki encouraging Izuku to talk to Ochako isn't like that strange because between Izuku and Katsuki, Katsuki is the one to most likely reveal his emotions. He is more in touch with his emotions than Izuku who while emotional tends to keep everything in.

Katsuki isn't playing wingman. He's playing advisor and someone who has experience with emotions.

Seeing Izuku stumbling over his words and being all nervous trying to talk to Ochako is so in character for him. He has never been too good expressing his emotions.

I doubt Katsuki would be like "go tell her you want to marry her". He is more like "go talk to her, you're friends, remember? Been forever since you had a proper conversation."

It's the same case with Himiko pushing Ochako towards Izuku. She is encouraging her to be happy and not be stuck in the past. Not "go get married".

Happiness doesn't mean you must be in a romance.

Just me, again, but I feel like some people are really just jumping the gun here. If you really are thinking Izuku and Ochako being canon is bad for your ship, that's... I'm sorry, this will be mean of me to say, but that's ridiculous.

A ship being canon shouldn't stop you from enjoying the ships you do like. What ever happen to "ignore canon"? Oh, I guess that becomes irrelevant when you want to cause panic and bash and panic and bash and panic and bash.

Like a handhold like that shouldn't make you feel threatened by that ship.

Just continue shipping your ships! Take it from someone whose favorite ship is of two characters who haven't been seen interacting before.

Even still, with just leaks alone, it doesn't mean they are canon. I have my ships and there's moments in whatever the story makes me ship them but I also don't think every little behavior is meant to be romantic.

The thing I know I'm going to hate about this epilogue isn't even the chapter itself. It's the reactions.

I know some people are going to say this chapter is queerbait and use to it to even go as far as to bash Ochako given she is the woman and it's routine to hate on the woman. It ain't queerbait if Katsuki and Izuku wasn't going to be explicitly a couple themselves. Let's not forget it's Shonen Jump and even though the queer coding can be there, we can't have everything.

Also, I also know that some fans of IzuOcha are going to use this chapter to justify their "authority" of "best ships" and harass people like "my ship is better than yours" and be only concerned about Ochako being a housewife.

I don't think Horikoshi is the greatest human and MHA is a flawless story but some of you are no better to these characters and the story.

[iwannascreameurekaa]

"if it's okay for poc to be cast as originally white characters then why can't we cast white people for poc characters"

Great question I have a wonderful answer for you

to start this is about a post I saw about Leah playing Annabeth Chase in the Percy Jackson show. Someone in the comment section was complaining about it and saying that they think a white person should be casted for Hazel if there's ever a live action heros of Olympus. This person claimed that if race has no meaning when casting a black perosn for Annabeth, then why would it matter for Hazel?

here's where this person is so incredibly wrong that it confuses me on what their brain is used for if not to make a complete thought. Hazels race was one of the most important things about her backstory

Hazel was a woc in there 1940s she went to a school for colored children. She legit experienced segregation. The whole reason that she had a connection to Leo is because she went to school with his grandfather sammy and the only reason she knew sammy was because of that school for colored children. Just that is enough to tell her that yes her race does in fact have a meaning and isn't something you should change

then the person in the comment section started talking about Frank.. then Leo and then piper. Basically they ranted on and on about any poc character

Let's start with Leo now. I'm bringing back the hazel point because again the only reason that he and Hazel had a funky connection at the beginning of moa is because of that school for colored children. Leo's Hispanic heritage is also important when concerning how his life with his mother was up till he died. One of the reasons he ran away from his aunts house was because she was religious and constantly called him the devil.

what about Frank? Well his Chinese heritage connected him to Poseidon which made him related to Percy which isn't massively important but you know it's a plot point so I see no point in getting rid of it

and piper? One of the first things we find out about piper is that she is bullied for being cherokee. The FIRST thing we see of piper interacting with characters besides Jason and Leo is her experiencing racism. It is insane that some people think that's just a thing that could be thrown away. Her Cherokee heritage also relates to her main character development in the trials of Apollo and lots of her "wisdom" is old cherokee stories her grandpa would tell her

and tell me one fucking moment in the series where Percy or Jason's race was important. Other than them being Greek/roman because they're all Greek and Roman so shut up

oh but since everyone's complaining about Annabeth being black in the show that must mean that her being white in the books is SOOOOO important

... it's not. In fact she's literally 1000x tanner than most of y'all depict her in the "canon" fanart so... yeah. And those of y'all saying "what about her being blonde that's her main character thing blah blah blah" I'm sorry is this the 2000s??? Blondes being dumb is a horribly outdated stereotype that is only ever used in a joking manner now back when the lightning thief was written in was a thing used against blonde women but now it isn't.

You know a certain group that is targeted and deemed dumb because of how they look? People of color, specifying black women.

Annabeth Chase being black is probably one of the best casting decisions ever, and I say this knowing that race wasn't the main thing when casting. Leah is the perfect person to play Annabeth and I will die on that hill. She has the script determination and the emotional range that makes her the perfect candidate for Annabeth.

If Annabeth Chase were real she would love Leah and she would hate you all for saying Leah isn't her.

Rant ended. Get your heads out of your asses before you say more racist shit.

[callme-holly]

Hi!!! i was wondering if you could do gang x reader where they always come up with the most biazzare but funny insults on the dot. like i mean telling someone who was rude to them they have the hairline of the golden gate bridge, the build of a dented refridgerator, etc. etc. and they just pull this shit out of normal and usually uses it in playful banter feel free to delete / setaside / ignore if you want! have a lovely day!!!

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤-𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - im back y'all. just a reminder than my requests are still open!!

The gang x quick-witted!reader

Darry Curtis:

Darry seems like the kinda guy who would try his hardest to keep a straight face when you joke/insult someone, but most times he can’t help but crack a small smile. The first time he heard one of your insults, he couldn’t help but laugh, because it was the most random shit he’d ever heard. If y’all are in public, he’ll try to shush you, or keep you somewhat calm to keep the insults at bay, but he loves hearing what you can come up with on the spot, and he’ll probably tease you for it later on.

Sodapop Curtis:

Soda LOVES your insults. They will make him double over laughing every single time, no matter what it is. The first time he heard you insult someone was when they’d pushed past you at the DX; he was so ready to defend you when you just pulled out the wildest comeback known to man. He was stunned for about 2 seconds before both of you were in fits of laughter and the person walked out without a word. 

Ponyboy Curtis:

Pony would probably get some second hand embarrassment, but he’d still love every little insult that comes from you. You don’t exactly hold back when it comes to people who have annoyed you, and most of the time he’ll just let you ramble/hurl whatever insult you can think of without stopping you. Most of the time he’ll just look away, trying to hide his smile so he doesn’t get in trouble for it. He probably admires your lack of shame and, because we know he’s sassy as hell, he’ll probably steal a few of your insults to use on his brothers and the gang. 

Johnny Cade:

Much like Pony, Johnny strongly admires what little shame you have. If someone shows even the slightest hint of rudeness towards either you, or Johnny, you’re shooting some crazy insult straight back like it’s a first language. You don’t even need time to think. He’ll give small laughs and will break out into a smile at every single one before following after you when you walk away, not even looking back at the person. You definitely help to give him confidence boosts and he loves that. 

Dallas Winston:

You and Dally are a dangerous combo when it comes to insults. The shit the two of you will say is so crazy that most people can do nothing but laugh because it’s so out of the blue and random. The first time Dallas heard you insult someone, he just grinned and wrapped an arm around you. He was pretty damn proud to say the least. After that, it became a challenge of who could come up with the best insult towards the other, and people very quickly learnt to never mess with either of y’all.

Steve Randle:

Steve is pretty much your partner in crime when it comes to insults. He loves listening to you rattle off the craziest, most absurd shit everyone has ever heard, and most of the time he’ll join in to. He’ll laugh everytime you hit someone with something especially wild, and if anyone ever dares talk back, Steve’s got five more insults locked and ready to go. He’ll always defend you, but it doesn’t take long for him to realise you can definitely hold your own. 

Two-Bit Mathews:

Two lives for your insults. To him, it’s literally peak entertainment and you’ll have him rolling with laughter every damn time. Thing is, he isn’t just cracking up at you’re insults; he’s hyping you up, egging you on, and throwing in his own little comebacks when necessary. Most times, he doesn’t even care who your target is, he just loves listening to you. And once the two of you get started on someone, it’s a one way ticket to a roast so bizarre that even the person y’all are insulting has to laugh it off. All in all, Two-bit loves your creativity, and sometimes envies how quick you are to come up with something. 

[greml1nb0i]

THE HAZBIN LEAKS SHOW THAT S2 WILL ONLY GET WORSE: Characters

OK so my first gripe,

Emily's song is ear bleedingly annoying. Idk who her VA is but omg, idk if she's tone deaf or if they just have her mouth directly into the mic but my gods woman. STEP BACK you are assaulting my brain with these nonstop high sopranos.

Also the literal shot of Sir P trying to kill himself cuz of how either how annoying Emily is being or the fact he misses his friend, regardless it was a WILD fucking scene to show. Suicide isn't off the table for Viv's jokes, i guess.

Speaking of Sir P, his reason for being in Hell is so fucking stupid.

How tf is being scared of Jack The Ripper a sin?! His sin is just being scared of being murdered if he spoke out.

THAT'S JUST NORMAL HUMAN BEHAVIOR, WHAT?!

I hate to break it to you Viv, but not everyone is going to act like a macho hero when they see a damned murder!! Most people fucking run and hide! Why? CUZ THEY DONT WANNA DIE! They don't want to be targeted if shit goes south.

Also what is the thought process here in making his sin being just "cowardice"?? Viv are you trying to say that people who have most def been in Sir P's shoes, [witnessing a murder] are cowards that deserve to go to hell?? What's the motive here? Am i missing something?? Is being too afraid to be murdered, a sin??

Also apparently he was sent to Heaven for "saving Cherri Bomb"

save her from what?

Last i checked, in the final ep; he just kisses her as she's about to through a bomb and then says "i love you, remember me" only to have one of the most anti climatic "deaths" in the show. She wasnt even being attacked or threatened in anyway. So where tf does the plot point of "i saved her" come in??

Also can we talk about these fuck-ass human designs for Sir P and Alastor??

I don't mind Sir P's as much as i hate Alastor's. Its the fact Viv doesnt know wtf she's doing when she makes these designs.

Sir P just looks like a generic guy. One look at him and you cannot tell what time period he's from, same goes for Alastor. They could easily be frickin neighbors in the early or late 90s but no, they're supposedly from different timelines.

Alastor iirc is from the 1940-50s, and Sir P is from the 1800s, [Jack the rippers final kill was 1863-1888]

Why, Viv, cant you do any research for the time periods YOUR characters come from??

Why do they both look like cartoon barbers; not a radio show host and not a genius inventor?? Like did you even look at the differences in fashion and culture for any of these characters?!

Men fashion from the late 1800s looked like this:

This is [white] Men's fashion in the 1940-1950s:

See Viv, their fashion styles are different and shouldn't look the same at all. Why does every character have pinstripes, if it doesnt even reflect that time period in an authentic way??

And to add a cherry on top, this is what African American men would wear in Alastor's time period:

Do you see the difference in styles Viv?

Black men were not given the same nice everyday casual wear that white men did. They often wore hand-me-downs or had to work their asses off to just afford 1 nice looking suit.

you wanna know why?? Cuz Viv, the Jim Crow laws were still in full affect til the late 60s and early 70s. They were not seen as people, black men and women were still heavily discriminated against and were even still being victims of-

[MAJOR TW FOR RACISIT STUFF]

lynching's. Alastor would feel lucky, he only got mistaken for a deer and shot; he could have, and probably did, go through much much worse in his actually living life.

Tell me you didn't do any research for your characters without telling me you didn't do any research for your characters.

TLDR; So not only is Viv using more gross jokes in her next season, but the character designs have gotten even worse.

Lmk what you want the next topic to be about, if i missed anything you would've liked mentioned here, lmk in comments or asks and i'll reply. I reply to everyone as long as you arent being a jerk.

EDIT:

I've been made away that Alastor didn't in fact live in the 1940s and 50s but the 1930s. i will say most of my points still stand, but here the men's fashion for his time period.

also that makes his radio show even more of an impossible achievement, in the 1930s majority, if not, half of the black men in America were out of work cuz of racism, discrimination and segregation, ya know, cuz the Jim Crow. White people called for African Americans to be fired from any jobs as long as there were whites out of work. Racial violence again became more common, especially in the South.

Tell me again Viv, how tf did Alastor even thrive??

[hotvintagepoll]

Ruth Gordon (Rosemary's Baby)—Look. I know "Harold & Maude" is just past the cutoff, and that's without a doubt her scrungliest performance. But this is THEE Ruth Gordon! She's the most persistent of the scrungly little guys, and probably among the littlest while we're at it. This legend-ass legend scrungled her way through Hollywood, on screen and off, for decades until finally getting the recognition she deserved for "Rosemary's Baby." And that performance worked largely in part because she was scrungly with style and pizzazz. Few people could pull that off the way Ruth did. Even if we're not allowed to consider Maude because of a silly little thing like "dates" and "rules" (your rules aren't silly, I love and respect this blog), Minnie is more than enough to prove Ruth Gordons scrunglitude

Cantinflas (Around the World in 80 Days, Ahí está el detalle, Ni Sangre, ni Arena)—OH BOY I GET TO TALK ABOUT CANTINFLAS!! Honestly, I’m not the most qualified to even be talking about him: he was famously a king of wordplay, but Spanish is my second language so I always feel like I’m missing some of the jokes…..but even so he is so SO funny it’s like unbelievable. Ok so also. One movie I can talk confidently about is him in around the world in 80 days, which i have watched so many times and he just rocks. Like. ROCKS. Here he is on his dumb little bike [included below the cut]. This is how we meet him in th movie and I think they should have just put the words “SCRUNGLY” across the scene.He also does little tricks, wears his dumb little shoes, has some kind of weird romantic thing going on with David niven…..it makes me so sad we dont have even more movies from him because honestly his whole thing (esp in 80 days with his silly trousers) is just Gender.  

This is round 2 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Ruth Gordon:

Cantinflas:

"charlie chaplin once called him the greatest comedian alive"

[ghouljams]

how does one become free of insecurity? i’m already doing therapy but i feel i’ve only moved away from hating myself so much i want to d*e into just thinking everyone’s better than me

It's a long journey, but well worth it.

I don't think anyone is ever truly free of insecurity, but I think there's also a lot that is unpacked simply through the language we use to describe ourselves and the jokes we allow other people to make at our expense.

Therapy is great at helping you deal with the big feelings, but sometimes little things get caught in your head and it's hard to shake them. Here are some things that I do to keep myself feeling good, and also some things that I'm working on:

No suicide jokes. I make it a point never to joke about "oh I'll just kill myself" or anything like that because ultimately it just makes me feel worse and nobody finds it funny. It's also a good way to change your thinking and direct your solution brain away from "I'll just end things when shit gets hard." This one is a constant battle.

I compliment myself whenever I have the chance. I take every compliment someone gives me. I pretend to be vapid and self-absorbed. I make kissy faces at myself in the mirror. I tell other people how pretty I am, and I don't fucking care if they think I'm a stupid bimbo because I'm trying to love myself and that's more important.

Being kinder to my younger self. This one feels weird but I found myself being mean to little Ghoul when I was really sad. It feels easy to take out your anger on a kid that didn't know any better, and it doesn't guilt you because that's you that you're hating. But look. You were just a kid. You weren't stupid or ugly or unlovable or evil, you were a kid. I just caught myself calling my teenage self ugly the other day on my way to visit my mom and I had to stop and go "why am I saying this? I was just a kid." And it made me cry a li'l bit ngl, but if felt... idk it felt good in a way.

Don't let fucking anyone tell you, you're not worth it. Does your friend make jokes about how dumb you are? Or how you're so cringey? Or so embarrassing or bad at something or forgetful or WHATEVER? Yeah, fuck that noise. Tell them to stop doing that. Tell them it hurts your feelings and if they still don't stop they aren't your friend, they're your bully. I fucking hate bullies. Don't let anyone talk down to you, I don't care if it was a joke at first, it's not funny anymore. Fuck them.

This is something I'm working on, but when you start fixing one insecurity another will probably pop up. I've been working for a long time on liking how I look, and it's gone really well. But now I'm insecure about my intelligence. So I have to stop myself from calling myself stupid or not answering questions. I just fucking rocked my work trivia party, and Mr. Ghoul thinks I'm smart, so I just gotta keep track of my wins. Sometimes you realize that making yourself secure in one thing makes you insecure about another, but that's ok! There's a learning curve to all of this.

Everyone thinks everyone else is better than them. You don't have to be the best at everything, you don't even have to be the best at one thing! What's important is that you're doing your best. People notice when you're working hard, even if you're not churning out the best product because it means you care about it. Which brings me to

Done is better than perfect. Sure it would be great if you were God's most specialist soldier, but think about how much work that would be! Ok so you're not the world's best knitter, but the scarf you made your friend is their favorite scarf anyway because you made it. So you're not a world class writer, but you had a story in your head and you wrote it down. That's better than it never being written at all. Also just because you think it's bad doesn't mean other people won't think it's a masterpiece. Hell, half of the fics I wrote when I first started this blog I could write better now but that doesn't make them bad, it just means I've gotten better.

We as humans are constantly improving and evolving. Don't let who you are no stop you from striving towards who you'll be in the future. Taking one step down the path towards loving yourself is better than giving up and hating yourself forever. It's slow going, but man I've been doing this shit for a decade and I'm so much happier than I was at 18.

You might think that the more you improve the harder and faller you'll fall back to the bottom, but the lows don't get that low again. You're doing great. I'm proud of you.

[seancekitsch]

The Sword and the Quill: Chapter Six

Pairing: Gwayne Hightower x Reader

In the weeks leading up to little Daeron's departure to Oldtown, Queen Alicent finds herself trying to entertain the unmarried ladies of court. As one of her ladies in waiting, you agree to an anonymous penpal in one of the men at court, and end up spilling your heart to him. He is your perfect match, your equal. The only issue? The Queen's brother Gwayne Hightower will not stop teasing you as you try to uncover who responds to your letters.

****tw/ this chapter only for an attempted mugging ****

Dearest Y/N,

I apologize for any harm or shame I’ve caused you. I know that as you were corresponding with these letters, you most likely did not want it to be me. I admit, a part of me did not want it to be you. But that is not the truth of the matter, and the entire time we were communicating with each other. Without being presumptuous, we fell for each other. Even without knowing that you were the one with the pen, I picked those flowers for your Love and Beauty crown with you in mind. Searching for my writer was not at the front of my mind when your smile graced a room. Now, I understand very much that you and I have differing opinions on where to go from here. 

I would still wish to court you, as your words have moved me and while yes I have mocked you I never mocked your looks. I was never joking when I called you pretty. 

I feel like you would rather not have me. Which, I will respect. If it would please you, I will go back to Oldtown early, as to not cause more unneeded harm to you. I do not wish for you to leave my sister because of my presence. She and the children clearly need and love you. 

I have said many things over the ages, but especially the past few months that I wish I could take back. Even more, there are words I haven’t said yet wish I had.

Unfortunately yours, 

Gwayne Hightower

So he does not hide his name anymore, or yours? Has he not thought of the implications of that? What people could assume might have transpired between the two of you if these were to be found? Love and beauty, the coin with the naked woman on it, these letters, the dance you shared; it is all too much. Evidence of a love affair that has not happened. These letters would shame you, you think. Enough to ruin any marriage prospect, enough to tear you from pious Alicent’s side. What would she think if rumors of an illicit affair out of wedlock with her brother of all people surfaced? You do not even consider the fact that these rumors would be completely untrue. People talk, and hearsay is often more powerful than the truth. There is probably already talk of a bastard Flowers in your belly.

And for a moment, you consider burning the parchment in the flame of the candle before you. Instead you place it to the side, the ring on your pinky clinking against the pewter cup to sip your beer. You sip long and hard on the beer, watching the amber liquid swish in the bottom of the cup as you gulp. The castle had felt all too stuffy and uncomfortable tonight, the same as it had felt every night since the feast. 

You have spent the last week embroidering and dining with Alicent, walking her children to and from their lessons, and walking Maegor’s tunnels the moment the little royals were put to bed. Each night, you come to this tavern with the letter, and each night you agonize on how- or if- to respond. Tonight you are determined to respond, to have some way to save dignity or appearance in this. Often Helaena was the child that gave you odd riddles, but tonight it was little Aemond.

“Did you know that some of these walls are hollow?” he had asked you, and you had to wonder if he knew about the tunnels from a history book, or if the six year old was warning you. You decided not to take it as a warning, and told the little prince that the walls were stone and stone could not be hollow. 

Your ring glitters in the candle light as you sit there and with your own blank parchment and your quill. The barkeep keeps the beer flowing and you think of what to write. You drink and read and drink and read. You place your pewter down as your eyes scan the letter again. 

What he has written vexes you, angers you, saddens you. You aren’t exactly sure if his leave would grant you peace, as you know it would discontent Alicent and take Daeron from you. And what of you? To say that his presence is an issue is just as equal to his absence being an issue. Part of you wants to believe him, as it did feel nice to be in his arms; it felt nice when barbs were traded for more gentle jokes. 

But even so, this is Gwayne Hightower. This is a man who has so often worked to make you look and sound like a fool; a man who has said horribly nasty things without caring that you were near, begets pleasure from making your temper rise. Surely, this is just another joke of his. 

A well thought out, time consuming joke at your expense. Another embarrassment at his hand. To write these letters, to make the crown of flowers, to dance with you; it is all to fuel the rumor mill of court, one he understands well and understands the consequences within. It is a farce to make you look like some simpering maiden following around a knight, to make Alicent’s closest companion seem capable of scandal. 

And surely, scandal is already spreading after you all but took flight from the feast. Certainly, he has made you a topic of discussion. 

With a hand raised for another round, you finally know what to write to him. 

You use the flame from the little candle upon the table to heat the wax before you seal your parchment. There is no need or use to disguise your parchment anymore, you think, now that he and you are unmasked. You settle up with the barkeep as it hardens, a sad smile on your face after you drain the pewter cup for the last time this evening and press the silver coins into his hand. You press your finger to the wax, testing its seal, before pulling the cloak up around you again and going back out into the night.

Your feet are unsteady under you as you travel the alley ways back towards the keep. Just three city blocks from here is a small door which looks like an average cellar, which in truth conceals one of the entrances to Maegor’s tunnels. This is a path you know well, a path you have trod every night this week alone. Your parchment clutched in hand, you tipsily make your way back so that you may collapse into bed for another dreamless sleep. Your boots clack against cobblestone, echoing as the wind blows at your cloak. The parchment in your hand flutters and flaps like a bird against the cage of your hand. 

You turn a corner, and another corner, the alleys crowded with patrons of taverns and pleasure houses and dance halls raucous and crying and cheering in the night. It seems, you think to yourself, that despite all of the jewels and privilege of your station that the common people seem to have more fun. At least, they have since Viserys’ coronation. You’d heard from your Lord Father of the strife that had taken Prince Aemon and how it had been ended many times. Viserys inherited peace from his father’s bravery. Alicent though, had never met Viserys’ father. As a child, Otto had her read stories to old and dying King Jahaerys, and then her father had her comfort Viserys similarly when Queen Aemma died. Perhaps more royals live their life in servitude than one would think, you ponder, your eyes feeling wet with sympathy for your friend. 

“Oh, excuse me,” you mumble as your shoulder accidentally clips someone’s arm, and you turn a corner. 

You turn another corner, more wobbly now than before as the warmth from the beer settles into your bones. Maybe, tipsy optimism tells you, everything will be okay if you can just get back to your bed without stumbling too hard. Maybe somehow the Gwayne problem as you have been calling it would go away if you could just get back to your warm and soft bed. He could just stop being himself or stop tormenting you somehow? Some sorcery or potion could be invented to stop tongues from wagging? Silly thoughts, really. No use in continuing them. You stumble over the toe of your boot as you put the thoughts to rest. The cobblestones seem to come up to meet your feet as your boots push you forward, the worn leather of them no longer shiny in the streetlamp lights from years of use.

“A Lady shouldn’t walk out here alone,” a man’s voice calls to you, and you pull your cloak closer to yourself. You figure if you ignore the voice and keep walking you can put enough space between yourself and the man. This is, admittedly, not the safest part of town. The nearby pleasure houses attract terrible men, but the hired guards positioned at the entrances tend to watch out for women on the street. There is a letter opener in your bag, so you are not exactly unarmed, but you would rather reach the nearest entrance to Maegor’s tunnels without having to use it. You move a little faster, now eager to reach the next corner to turn.

“Did you hear me, M’lady?” The voice calls again, and your blood runs cold. How did he know? Footsteps pick up behind you, and you pick up your pace to try to out walk him. If you can make it to the next street, certainly he wouldn’t try to grab you with so many witnesses.

You reach just a few mere meters from the opening of the alleyway before hands grasp at your arms. Defensively, you put your forearms up over your chest, clutching the letter tight and wrinkling the parchment.

“Been followin’ you,” Rancid breath wafts over your face, “No common whore wears rings like that.”

Fuck. Now you finally remember. Before leaving your chambers, you always remove all jewelry. You always put on your plainest clothes. A simple garnet on your pinky finger has given you away. Fear courses through your bloodstream, but so does a steady mourning. This too now, you can never have again. 

“All this trouble for a ring?” you ask, beer making you bolder. Anger, sadness, fear, all rolled into one as you hold your defensive stance. If only you can reach into your bag for the letter opener. 

“All this trouble for whatever else you’ve got,” He sneers, and something in you tells you now is the time to fight. You kick your leg back, boot connecting with what you think is his knee as you wriggle out of his grasp, tearing your cloak and knocking yourself down to the ground in the process. You gasp as your knees land hard on the stones, trying your hardest not to cry out in pain. The man recovers a lot quicker than you expected, stumbling back to his feet and muttering curses at you. You hold your hands up weakly, as if the crumpled letter in your hand is a shield. 

“Bitch! I should cut off your finger for that,” he tells you, and a dagger now glitters just as brightly as your garnet. 

But no blade makes contact with your skin. Instead, you look up to see the man grabbed by the collar by none other than Gwayne Hightower. He, too, is dressed much more civilian than you are used to seeing. He wears a simple brown cloak and tunic. Only, his boots are fancy thick riding boots. Gwayne slams the man against the wall of the alley, a sickening crack as the back of his head hits stone.

“Do not touch her again!” Gwayne more or less roars, anger you have never seen before radiating from him. You scramble to stand as he presses the man further, his free hand now resting on his sword.

“I should have your hands for this,” Gwayne bares his teeth, animalistic in his rage towards the man, and the man seems well and terrified. 

“No trouble,” the man chokes out under the hand on his throat, “I’ll be no trouble.”

It’s only then that Gwayne relents and releases the man.

“Be gone, and do not ever let me see you again,” he warns, and the man gathers himself to leave immediately.

“Keep your bitch on a leash next time,” the man mutters, and it’s the last you hear from him as he departs. Gwayne’s arms come around you immediately, snaking around your form and pulling you close into his chest. He smells of sweat and wine and now coppery blood as well. 

You feel pressure on the top of your head, and for a moment you think it may be his lips. But no, you write it off, you are tipsy and imagining things. 

“You stupid woman, do not scare me like that again,” he sighs, breathless and still on high.

“I had that handled!” You nearly shriek, and then falter, “I mean, there is a letter opener in my bag. I could have stabbed him myself, I could have put out his eyes or jabbed between his-“

“Handled? You fool, he was ready to dispatch you over a ring,” Gwayne cringes at his own words, as if his fear for your safety even scares himself. 

His hand cradling your head is warm, holding you close to his chest as if you are his. You lean into the embrace, not quite holding him back, but because the comfort outweighs the desire to stand straight. This is twice now, that he has insulted your intellect, but you bury annoyance for the moment. He did, in fact, make sure you were to go home with all of your fingers tonight. 

“Fine,” you pout, looking up at him, “I guess some thanks are in order.”

His face immediately softens as you gaze up at him, a faint smile on his lips as he takes in your appearance. 

“I appreciate that, My Lady.”

“Do not think this puts you back in my good graces, Ser Gwayne.”

“My heroism is not enough? Might you believe it is me now?”

Not you. Not you. The words swirl in your head. Not him.

“I believe you are out of the Keep late at night, nothing more.”

His arms do not leave you, but his embrace of you loosens. 

“And what are you doing here? A noble lady, this close to the Streets of Silk? You might as well be on them.” His voice is strained with anger and worry, his hair out of place and sweat evident on his brow. For a moment, you almost feel bad he is in such a state. He is clearly distressed, maybe harmed, because of you. A part of you wants to reach out to him and check for any sore or tender spots, but equally, you want him to just stop making that face. 

But then it cuts through your tipsy haze what he has truly said, what he himself has revealed.

You scoff, incredulous and seeing red. You push him off of you as if he had been the one to cause your injury tonight. 

“Good Ser,” the title spits like venom from a serpent, “I think I need not ask what you are doing near the Streets of Silk.”

He is silent for a moment, a damning silence as he looks to the shine of a puddle settling between the cobblestones. 

“You are lucky I spotted you when I did, Y/n.”

Hot, humiliated tears threaten to spill from your eyes, nevermind that Gwane will not meet your eye and looks just as wounded as you feel. He was on the Streets of Silk, he all but admitted, no doubt chasing women with the crown’s coin and roughing up with his men. The smell of sweat on his tunic is not from defending you from that man, you realize. Truthfully you always knew where your tavern was located, but it had not been an issue until tonight. Until Gwayne Fucking Hightower had to play hero and humiliate you even further as some silly chivalrous interlude in a knight’s evening of debauchery. After everything he had written, the apology he had given you, he has proven he is still just the knight you always thought he was. He could not possibly be genuine in his affections for you if he could so easily come here, you tell yourself. Surely, this is only more fuel to the fiery cavern burning distance between you. He will not see you cry, he mustn’t. 

“My hero,” you mutter, and shove the crumpled parchment to his chest as you walk past him. 

You hold your tears until you reach the tunnel. 

[the-great-papyru]

(shakes a flowey plushie in front of you as bait) flowey face headcanons please. (continues to shake the plushie hoping you will take the bait)

well, for a flowey plushie…

the mechanics of flowey’s face rely on two things: magic and determination. it’s plant matter, yes, but it’s plant matter modified by the very nature of flowey’s existence. asriel’s dust had some residual magical qualities that were modified for flowey’s form. it’s how he can summon bullets, or manipulate vines, or change his face, or, heck, move.

now, determination is built on will and magic is a form of self-expression. so it’s logically sound that flowey’s face is a reflection of a.) what he wills it to look like, first and foremost, and b.) without will, natural emotion and expression of self.

when flowey woke up, since he didn’t have any particular will, his face drew on his magic rather than determination. and so, it reflected his inner sense of self, and therefore looked like asriel’s. exactly like it, in fact. a monster’s body is linked to their external sense of self, it’s a combination of magic and dust that manifests as what appears to be a physical form. that sense of self doesn’t shift after flowey’s death. not yet, at least. it’s why asgore recognized him so easily. only someone who knows asriel, is asriel perfectly could look so exactly like him.

when flowey decided it was better to start hiding his identity, he actively modified it. at first, he probably just willed his face into something simpler, that people wouldn’t recognize immediately. he had to decide on a candidate to mimic. he chose chara. it wasn’t obviously them, of course, but when it came to guidance he looked at their face for reference.

just a basic structure wasn’t enough, though. he still thought of himself as asriel, back then, and maintaining a fluid face while also keeping a false image up? it didn’t really work the best. so he settled on a handful of “sprites” that he could use interchangeably. picking and choosing the most memorable of chara’s faces and putting them on himself as the occasion demanded.

it got easier.

later on, flowey needed those faces. not really for hiding his identity any longer (that had become incredibly easy now, nearly second nature) but for keeping a poker face. a single slip-up, after all, and someone good at face reading could take a lot from it. that couldn’t happen. so he drilled the faces into his muscle memory until he could swap them out just like that.

he only really planned on having one scary face, but two couldn’t hurt! he practiced the second a lot more. it didn’t involve actually enlarging his face through magic (he’d run out of space), so it was easier. he perfected it so much, (changing the eyes was an act of genius on his part, he thought) that it became his “extra” face. a way of covering up any undesired emotion. feeling creepy? scary face. about to laugh at a joke? scary face. terrified for your life? scary face.

still with me? great!

the actual physical form of the face, however, is originally a lot like that of an ordinary flower. fairly hard to the touch, a little bit sticky. this is largely due to preservation on flowey’s part, since he sticks with a handful of pre-designed faces, there’s not a lot of natural movement there, and it doesn’t change shape at all.

see, there aren’t very many plants with naturally white centers. and in fact, if you look at any other golden flower… the centers don’t look white.

now, if you look at the amalgamates, their overworld sprites are entirely white. flowey’s face essentially functions like hardened amalgamate goo. he can shift it into various positions through a combination of will (determination) and magic (self-expression).

i mentioned before that it’s not malleable because he sticks with pre-made expressions. so, if you were to touch it, it would feel like the center of a daisy, or something similar, just maybe a bit more sticky.

this is considering, of course, that flowey sticks with the pre-planned expressions. the more shifting based on magic and genuine expressions, the more naturally malleable it could get. not necessarily super stretchy, and it would tend to stick together rather than form into strands, but it could end up slightly more flexible than a human face.

…okay, on that note, i think that wraps it up. clearly i think an unhealthy amount about the schematics of this fictional flower’s facial functions.

[corkscrewrawks]

do you have any hcs for the postal dudes?

so glad you asked tovarisch ....yes i DO, so many ....heres a bunch summarized in little doodles .please take a look(p2, p1, p3.. and... my fav.. in that order ,below):

p2

no regerts tramp stamp lolol

the kazakh thing is a joke or not ,take it as whatevrr .i don't have much to add here ,most is summarized in teh images

p1

this is mostly jsut hcs for himself ,not just his schizoness i think there's enough of that already. i think he's fairly functional whenever he's not having an episode or going ....postal.....or something .so this is mostly just that. that freaaak next to him is teh demon or hwtever you call him i dont remember

p3

i dont have much to add here its obvious. also he probably says shit without thinking .he has no filter i think. he likes to say things just to annoy people on purpose

okay im gonna be honest idgaff abt p4 at all ,so heres shtopor instead. i have so many for him i could make a whole separate post w hcs abt cr characters

my fav... he probably grew up in a village or somethinf. hes pretty gross ,i think he probably smells really bad. type of person to scratch his ass/balls in public or pick his nose he dont gaaffff. well you know, "что естественно, то не безобразно" after all.... :-) also he's big and tall ,built liek a tank ..t-34. also he's either agressive ,or very sweet when he's drunk .depends who he's with

also he's friends with zhenya and mitya ,they're all friends and hang out actually ,trust ..

him and his dog thats probably named something like tovarisch or sharik, or maybe tank .not sureee yet. i think he really likes animals !! though he probably used to shoot/kill small birds from a slingshot as a lil kid lool lol .ueah

[apeachty]

₊ ˚ ⊹ ♡ . ⠀bottled up

note : i know i keep on saying that it's not a writing blog, but beomgyu crying is an emergency. i know all moa feel the same right now, so i wanted to write a little something to comfort both myself and moablr.

i started crying while choosing the pics on pinterest, and i just miss soobin and the members' happiness so so much, i just hope they all get the support they need from each other or from other people.

so it's [platonic] beomgyu x reader, with [obviously] soogyu / bestiez, not romantically ofc. hurt / comfort, crying

you look at the screen of your phone with a heavy heart, probably the heaviest it's been since soobin announced he finally agreed to take a break. it was beomgyu's schedule, a 'beomidio' live, but it was obvious he felt down from the very beginning.

everyone missed soobin, and the dorm was much quieter—not even because there were no sounds from soobin anymore: the cooking noise, gaming shouts, or soft bright laughs at some stupid dad joke by yeonjun—but because somehow, everyone still hasn’t figured out how to function properly with one of them gone.

but it was probably the most difficult for beomgyu. he kept joking about it in the group chat, trying not to worry soobin, who was reading everything. sometimes, he even cracked some jokes offline, but it never fooled anyone—mostly because you all felt the same way. everyone knew it wasn’t easy for him, but he shut down the day soobin left the dorm, brushing everyone off since then. he always said he was fine, just tired.

no one pried, giving him space, because that’s what beomgyu always does for others. but now, as you look at the back of his head on your phone screen—he had turned away from the camera, unable to keep his tears in anymore—you wondered if maybe you should’ve pushed him a little to open up.

you waited in the hall, sitting nearby the small room where beomgyu was holding his live. a bag with some snacks and one of soobin's hoodies—soobin didn’t even question it when you asked, just said to take what anyone needed—sat on the couch next to you.

it wasn’t surprising when a bunch of notifications from the group chat started popping up on your screen the moment beomgyu turned away, full of worry and support for him. there wasn’t any message from soobin in the chat, but you guessed he decided to text beomgyu privately. there’s no way soobin wouldn’t watch everything happening with txt.

when you saw beomgyu waving goodbye to the camera, his eyes still red and puffy, you stood up and grabbed the bag. you were already by the door when he said his last goodbyes and turned the live off, but suddenly, you weren’t sure how to approach him. it had never been a problem before, but this was the first time he seemed this low.

a quiet ringtone from behind the door pulled you out of your thoughts. you swore you heard a sob before a soft "hello." you knew it had to be either yeonjun or soobin calling beomgyu right after the live ended—but most likely soobin.

you opened the door cautiously, whispering his name softly so you wouldn’t startle him. you wanted him to know it was you, that he didn’t need to hide his tears or hold anything back. the moment he saw you, though, the sob he let out was even more broken than before.

he crossed the room in just a few steps and clung to you, his strength barely controlled. his phone was still in his hand, and you could hear soobin’s gentle voice trying to calm him, trying to soothe all the hurting feelings. you wrapped your arms around his shaking body, rubbing his back and whispering encouragements, promising everything would be okay.

you felt him hold onto you tighter, his fist gripping the back of your sweater. his forehead rested on your shoulder as he finally let out all the tears he’d been bottling up for more than a week. for the first time, he showed both you and soobin how tired he really was, how much soobin’s absence was affecting him.

as his sobs grew quieter and less frequent, you could feel his weight pressing heavier against you. it seemed like he was so drained emotionally that he could barely hold himself up anymore. you were torn between making him sit down in the chair he used for the live or just lowering both of you to the floor.

but the last thing any of you needed was for another member to get sick, so you gently guided him to the chair. beomgyu understood and sat down, his elbows resting on his knees and his forehead in his hand. soobin’s soft voice continued to calm him through the phone.

you crouched down in front of him, one hand gently rubbing his knee while the other reached into the bag. you pulled out the snacks first to get to the hoodie. as you finally laid the hoodie on his lap, beomgyu looked up at you, wide-eyed. he recognized the scent of soobin’s perfume you’d sprayed on it to make it feel even more like him.

"i brought it for you," you said quietly, smiling a little. "soobin said it’s okay."

beomgyu sniffled again, gripping the hoodie tightly and holding it close to his chest. he whispered a small "thank you," and you knew it was meant for both you and soobin. you also knew that everyone in the dorm would be all over beomgyu soon, comforting him, making sure he knew he wasn’t alone.

[untilhiseyeheals]

Pretty Performer - Silco x fem!reader one shot

Warning: Smut. Shameless smut.

You opened the heavy wooden door to the bar and stepped cautiously into the warm, dimly lit room, already filled with people and bustling with laughter and the clinking of glasses. Taking in a deep breath you let it fall shut behind you, the sound of the heavy wood hitting the frame drowned out by the constant hum of voices and background music of the bar. You looked around, unsure if to just make yourself at home and prepare for your upcoming performance as this decision was justly taken from you by the grab of two nimble but strong hands that dragged you into the bar. “You came! I’m so excited! I had to beg beg beeeeeeg Silco to invite you to perform, you know, the bar doesn’t usually do live performances but I have been listening to your stuff alllll the time when I am tinkering and I just had to have you play here!”. Two long blue pigtails swung through the air as Jinx dragged you eagerly towards the little prepared stage in one corner of the room. A breath caught itself in your throat as you were well aware of what a dangerous environment you found yourself in, even with this situation being painted by a welcoming atmosphere, you couldn't help but feel a little on edge. “Thank you, Jinx. That really means a lot to me. I’m glad you like it. Hm… Is there any song in particular that you like? I can perform it for you, you know?” you managed a smile, thinking it's probably best to make as good an impression as possible with one of the most dangerous people around. She had already dragged you all the way over to the little makeshift stage as she whirled around to face you, eyes glowing with anticipation. “Animal Cannibal”, she exclaimed without a second thought and you smiled knowingly. Of course, one of the more, well, interesting songs. “Great choice. Will do!” you lifted your hand to your head and gave a joking salute as you turned to prepare the stage for your gig.

When the background music in the bar started to fade out and the lights dimmed, centring at the corner of the room you and Jinx found yourselves in, she jumped up onto the stage and grabbed the mic. “Hello and welcome everyone to The Last Drop’s first-ever live performance! No, we don’t care if you asked for this and we certainly won’t take any requests! Now lean back, lean forward, or to the side. Dance, stand, sit, drink, do whatever you want because you cannot stop what’s about to come! Give it up for (y/n)!” she shouted into the mic, twirling it around and pointing towards certain individuals that apparently had some sort of a reputation in the bar, as they gave a knowing smile and shrug before returning the attention to their glasses. She then jumped off the stage and joined the small crowd that assembled in front of the stage. Not much, by any means, but that only served to soothe your nerves that started to act up quite a bit. You couldn’t help but huff out a breath in disappointment as you let your eyes scan over the people in the crowd, not seeing him anywhere. Of course not! What were you thinking? It’s better he wasn’t here right now, the last thing you needed was the attention of arguably the most powerful and dangerous man of the Undercity on you. You took in a deep breath as the music started playing and decided to just go and get this over with.

So you started to sing. "I bite at the hand that feeds me. Slap at the face that eats me. Some kind of animal cannibal. Animal. Cannibal.” When the music started playing, the strain washed from your nerves and your muscles loosened from their tensed state. Your usual persona was swapped out to your on-stage persona, much more confident and slightly suggestive than your normal self. You can’t help it. You sang the song in a sultry voice, letting your hands roam your hips and down towards your legs as you scanned the room through half-lidded eyes. You didn’t catch him, too engulfed in your performance to notice the set of eyes that were glued to your form as you traced along the hem of your black dress. One eye blue and cold as the deep ocean, the other seemingly opposite a struggle of black and ember, like darkness fighting to engulf the flames of a smouldering fire. And he was watching you. Intently. Eyes never leaving you, he studied your movements, listening to your sultry song that you completely let yourself sink into. “How do I meet the strangest men? They always seem to find me.” How fitting. If only you knew that possibly the strangest man had become totally lost in your performance, in the way you seemed to ignore everything and everyone that existed in the world, becoming one with the song you performed and feeling the lyrics as if they were your own personal story.

That's what you were. A performer. So you opened your eyes, straightened up and let a dark, dangerous gaze skim through the first row of people looking back up at you as you sang the next words. “Who knows how some people turn to strange ones. Is it up to me to make them into dead ones?” a sickly grin spreading over your features as the last words left your tongue, hands raised to your neck, drawing a slow line once across as your tongue skims your teeth and licks over your sharp canines. You were looking dangerous, psychopathic, insane, for only as long as it fit the part of the song you were singing. A perfect performer. It was only between this verse and the upcoming last chorus you let your eyes wander further out, scanning the entirety of the room, eyes having become used to the glare of the lights that were turned onto you as your gaze fell on the man standing at the outer corner of the bar right next to the stairs up to the second story where the offices were located. You moved your head back from the microphone so as not to let the entire audience hear the sharp breath that you took in as you noticed his eyes locked attentively onto you, expression unreadable. He always had a certain look of anger, fury, and general disdain on him that made your skin tingle. As you studied his features a bit longer you noticed that this look was not the only thing you could see in his eyes. They were darker than usual, pupil dilated and fixed upon you, the grip on his glass unnecessarily strong as his knuckles turned white with the pressure he put on the poor object. He seemed like a predator stalking his prey and a set of strong goosebumps washed over your body as you realized with full force that in this scenario, you were the prey. It was a dangerous look that normally would have you avert your gaze and cower into the corner with the sheer force it seemed to emit. But not when you were on stage.

You drew in a final, long breath before it was time to finish the last chorus of the song, stepping closer to the microphone again, your eyes never leaving his. If anything, this drilling gaze of his only spurred you on in your performance. “I bite at the hand that feeds me.” you lift one of your hands from the microphone and bring it up to your mouth, slowly dragging it across your lower lip, opening your mouth and biting down hard as you show your teeth at the bite, letting your fingers slowly graze down your chin, dragging some saliva down your neck. “Slap at the face that eats me” Quickly you lift that hand and bring it swiftly down at your cheek, emitting a beautiful slap that reverberates through the room in the microphone. “Some kind of animal cannibal” Your hands continue their way around your neck and down to your collarbone, head leaned slightly to the side, eyes half-open again. “Animal? Cannibal.” You continue your sinful performance until the last note of the backing track has rung out through the room. Only then do you fully open your eyes and stand up straight again, looking over to the spot at the end of the bar. Empty. You huff in frustration and … disappointment? as you take a step back from the microphone and give the audience a dramatic bow.

Jinx was jumping up and down in excitement, dragging you off the stage the second you stopped your bowing and the light in the bar returned to its normal state, background music resuming more quietly. “That was AMAZING! It was EVEN BETTER than hearing it on my big boom boxes over and over again and that’s honestly saying something!”. You found it hard to keep up with her rambling, smiling courtly and nodding along so as not to infuriate the girl you just made so happy with your performance. Although you wished you had made someone else that happy. Your eyes scan through the bar, desperately looking for the enchanting set of eyes that so drilled through you just minutes ago. You couldn’t find him. Defeated you made your way over to the bar and plopped down on one of the barstools, gesturing to the bartender for a drink. Only it’s not a drink that hit the wood of the counter in front of you, but a similar little envelope to the one that fluttered into your room only days ago. You felt your heart stumble in your chest as your shaking hands picked up the paper, nails slicing through the envelope and trembling fingers unfolded the paper inside of it. You read faster than your eyes can manage, stumbling over the words on the page that turned out to be very few, and very direct. Upstairs. Second door to the right. Now. – S. In any other state, you would have chuckled over the way he signed the note as if it wasn’t painfully obvious who it was from. You knew better than to go into that office, what if was a trap? You dared to lay your eyes on him, lost in your performance, you were … lewd, desperate, horny. While your mind was still listing off the unholy effects his mere gaze had on your poor body, your legs already hit the ground and you made your way up the stairs before you could even realize what you had done, your hands knocked against the wood of the office door. “Come in”. A low, rumbling voice beckoned you inside. You took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping inside the office.

You weren’t prepared for what you would find inside. Your eyes instinctively went to his big desk that stood in front of a beautiful big stained glass window, letting in the faint glow of street lights from outside that tinted the room into a hazy shade of green. However, you were surprised to find the chair in front of the desk to be empty. Confused you furrowed your brows as that dangerous voice made itself heard again. “That was quite the performance you put on there. I can see why Jinx took a liking to your… music.” You traced the origin of the voice to the opposite side of the room and your breath hitched as your eyes fell upon the slim figure of Silco sitting on a low plush chaise lounge, legs spread, cigar in hand and those damned eyes locked straight onto you. You felt like you walked straight into the cave of a bear, deep into the mountains, stupid little bunny hopping straight forward into its demise. You couldn’t help the deep blush that spread across your features at the small compliment. If it was a compliment at all, with him anything sounded like a threat. Just as you opened your mouth to thank him, he cut you off with a simple demand. “Come here.”, his voice was low, eyes never leaving you as you made your way over to where he was sitting, unsure where to start or stop or what to do.

Your mind was hazy, his damn smug grin as you got closer and closer drowning out every strand of thought your brain tried to form. It was to no avail. As you came to a halt in front of the lounge, he sat up and leaned forward to a little couch table with an ashtray and two glasses of liquor, pressing the cigar into the tray and taking up one of the glasses, not bothering to offer you the other as he let himself fall back onto the backrest. His eyes studied you intently, you could feel his gaze wander up and down your form and how the little black dress accentuated each and every one of your curves before it ended, making way for equally black stockings, held up by garters in the shape of a heart. Like a perfect little black dress is supposed to, it showed almost a little too much cleavage to be comfortable, eyes drawn to the necklaces around your neck that almost beckoned the gaze towards your chest. You forced yourself to take deep, steady breaths but your body failed you as he took a swig of his drink and set it back onto the table, hinting with a jerk of his head to come sit next to him. You obliged wordlessly.

That’s when you realised you hadn’t even spoken a single word since you entered his office, the air thick with tension which you hoped was sexual nature and he wasn’t going to end your life right here. Hell, not before making it worth it. He seemed to have picked up on your dilemma, offering you a smug grin as he finally broke the agonising silence. “What happened? Swallowed your tongue?”, his eyes skimmed over your face, taking in the effect that his voice had on you, “Pity. Your performance almost made you seem interesting.” Bastard, you thought before you took up all the courage that was left in you, riding the high that was left from your performance and the reminder of how his eyes practically ate you up. In one quick, swift motion you turned towards him, throwing one leg over his and placing yourself over him, knees to the left and right of his, straddling his lap. That earned you a low, dangerous chuckle, as his eyes started at your necklaces dangling in front of him, skimmed over your chest, you swore they lingered there for a quick second, before coming to rest once again on your face. Heterochome eyes locked with yours, and there it was again, this undiscernible look that only hinted at the fire festering behind those eyes. He kept a cool and collected front, always, if he wasn’t seething in anger and exploding like a volcano he was just quiet and very laid back. That was a front. Dangerous one. You, however, were determined to weasel your way through the cracks that you saw forming in his foundation and he let you.

You carefully lifted your hands from your sides and skimmed the collar of his vest, toying with his tie and carefully loosening it a bit. A low rumble came from his chest as his arm was quick to catch yours and pin them down in your lap, holding your hands by their wrists with only one hand and a very, very strong grip. “Tsk tsk tsk…” he scolded as he used the leverage he had over you to push yourself off him to the side, never letting go of your wrists. “Seems like my eyes didn’t deceive me then. You’re a feisty one. I can appreciate that.” Well, it was fun while it lasted, you thought as he pushed you off him and took that as a sign that this night was not going to go your way. “What I cannot appreciate, however,” he continued, voice low and scolding as he used his second hand to fully undo the tie you so carelessly loosened before and bring it over to your wrists. “is someone acting so incredibly unduly in front of all of Zaun.” With that, he quickly wrapped the string of the undone tie around your wrists and tied them together in a strong knot, not being gentle and making sure it was tight. “Looks like someone needs to be taught a lesson on how to behave.” he finished, letting go of your tied arms and letting them drop into your lap again.

“Lean back.”, he ordered and you were in no position to disobey, leaning back on the plush velvet of the lounge, resting your back against the backrest. With a small, approving nod he slid off the lounge from beside you and stood up, bending down towards you. He seemed to be taking in the sight of you, breathing already shallow and ragged from anticipation, anxiously biting your lip, hands tied together by his tie, looking up at him with big eyes that gave no hint of opposition. Just how he liked it. “There. I had a feeling you’d be a quick learner.” he cooed as his bent-down form started to come closer to you until his head was right next to yours, breath warm and tickling your ear. “So pretty and willing, all tied up and submissive it’s almost a shame having to ruin you.” he whispered in your ear, voice low and gravelly, lips just barely grazing your ear. You couldn’t stop the desperate whine that left your mouth, which made his eyes flick towards yours as he slowly leaned back away from you. “Patience.” was all he said, as his long fingers found the soft flesh of your thighs, tracing a line up and down and along the heart-shaped garters. You sucked in a breath, skin tingling at the touch you waited so long for. His hands made their way, slow, oh so painfully slow, up your thighs under your dress, skimming the band of your cotton panties that had a little lace rim on top which his fingers quickly found. You could tell he thoroughly enjoyed feeling up every inch of you, making you wait forever and ever, each touch feeling so painfully slow that you wished you could just grab his hand and drag it directly to your aching clit. He was revelling in your desperation, eyes closely on yours as he observed each subtle change of your facial features as his hands roamed your body. Then he pulled back his hand from under your dress, making you wince at the sudden loss of contact. He smirked a devilish little smirk as he straightened up and sat back down next to you, picking up the glass with liquor as he watched your slumped-down form, already so messy and dishevelled from this little touch. “Stand up.” he ordered, placing the glass at his lips and taking a swig. You rolled your eyes. What was this supposed to be? Did he order you up here only to make you stand up and sit down and turn around like a little puppy? You weren’t having it. With one swift motion, you stood back up on your feet and made a step towards the door of the office.

Suddenly you could feel yourself getting yanked back hard and crashing into his tall frame. He was just sitting there with a glass in his goddamn hand, how did he manage to pull you back so fast? You could only hear a dangerous, low chuckle as you turned your head to look directly into his eyes. Now they really seemed like they were set ablaze. “Thank you, pet. I thought you weren’t gonna put up a fight at all.” his voice was barely a snarl, a sickly grin spreading over his face. Sick bastard. He didn’t want you to silently obey him, he picked you out because you seemed like you had a fire within you, so different from all the mindless idiots he was left to deal with every day. And finally, he got a glimpse of it. Before you knew it, he had lifted your tied hands above his head so that they came back down around his neck, which left you straining with no way to move, your bodies almost pinned together. That’s when his smug grin was instantly washed from his face as you closed the difference and started planting sinful kisses along his jawline, trailing them up towards his ear and down his neck. Your tongue slipped through, you licked your way along his neck, kissing, sucking, tired of this game he wanted to play. You could feel his head snap back as his own arms snaked around your waist and found your ass, cupping your cheeks with his hands and giving them a squeeze. That elicited a husky moan from you, spilling from your lips between the sounds of sucking and kissing the skin of his neck. He maneuvered you back towards the lounge and when you could feel it against the back of your shins he stopped, releasing your ass from his grasp to free your tied hands from behind his neck. Taking a step back which meant you had to stop your assault on his neck, he smirked as he undid the knot around your wrists, tie discarded to the floor in one swift motion. That, however, didn’t mean he allowed you any more control than he wanted to. “Strip.” he ordered, and you were only too happy to oblige.

Your hands found the straps of your dress and slid them down your shoulders, leaving it to pool on the floor. He once again started looking you up and down, although your undergarments were nothing too special since you favoured comfort over looks and, well, you didn’t count on anyone seeing those today. He took a step towards you, piercing gaze never leaving you, as his arms came around your back to unclasp your bra, fingers pushing it off your shoulders to join your dress on the floor. “Magnificent,” he murmured, as he took another step to close the distance between your bodies and started returning the favour of kissing your neck, hands finding your breasts and cupping them. You let out a soft moan, to which he responded with his fingers finding your hardened nipples, flicking and toying with them as his mouth slowly made its way down your neck to your collarbone. Again, he seemed to find special pleasure in making the process painfully slow, dragging out the moment as long as he possibly could, before the warmth of his mouth finally found one of your nipples. His tongue swirled in circles around the hardened bud of your nipple, teeth grazing it ever so gently before he decided he was gentle enough and took it between his teeth. “F-Fuck…” you moaned, hands darting forward to find his perfectly slicked back hair, burying your fingers between its strands, dragging your nails over his scalp. This led to him letting out a grunt against your nipple, sending a jolt through your body that settled right in that ever-tightening coil in your core.

Seemingly feeling this jolt, he let go of your nipple, guiding you to lay down on the lounge, joining you by crawling his way up, pushing your legs apart. You sucked in a breath in anticipation, as his hands found the waistband of your panties, dragging them painfully slowly down your legs and discarding them on the floor next to the lounge. He began kissing his way up the inside of your thighs, getting dangerously close to the wet mess he made of your cunt. Enjoying every second of this juicy anticipation, his mouth made its way all the way up to your upper thigh, directly next to your dripping cunt, nose skimming your folds for just a second, already enough to make you buck your hips involuntarily. He chuckled lowly against the soft flesh of your thigh. “My, my…” he trailed off and suddenly his head turned from the side of your inner thigh and the next thing you felt was his tongue licking slowly up your folds. You bucked your hips again, arms darting back to find his head again, getting a handful of his hair, destroying what was left of its slicked-back state. He ate you out like it was what he was destined to do, tongue swirling in circles around your clit, toying with the willing hole and slurping up all the delicious juices that you had for him. That’s when he felt like that wasn’t enough, and while his eyes flicked up to catch your reaction, two of his fingers joined his tongue. You threw your head back, muttering and moaning a string of words that loosely resembled his name as he slid his fingers into you. They met with no resistance as he pushed them in all the way, curling them up to hit that sweet, sweet spot that almost made you scream his name had you not turned your head and bit your lip. His mouth left your aching clit while his fingers kept relentlessly pumping into you, lifting his head to watch you squirm and hold back noises. “Come on, let me hear you.” he growled, as he once again curled his fingers right where you needed them and thrust them into you. “F-Fuck. Silco. Your fingers feel so good. I’m… I-... S… So close” you muttered against the side of the lounge, breath ragged and speaking made hard by the continuous assault of his fingers that felt like knocking all the air out of your lungs. That only seemed to spur him on more. “Good. Come on my hand for me.”, he ordered and slipped in a third finger, curling them once again, one last thrust sending you over the edge and bringing the knot in your stomach to explode. “Yes… S-Silco!”, you almost chanted his name like a prayer as the feeling of sweet release washed over you, making your vision blurry and your head fuzzy. His hands slowed down their movements, letting you ride it out as you bucked your hips lazily against his hand until he withdrew it.

You carefully opened your eyes and the knot in your stomach began to churn anew as you took in the sight before you. Silco had straightened up on the lounge, still between your thighs, vest slightly agape for a lack of tie, hair dishevelled with strands falling into his face. His face, gods, his face. It was flushed from the heat, his sweat mixing with your juices that coated his nose and mouth and that bastard was grinning as he took the fingers that were just inside you to his mouth, licking them clean of your remnants. You were determined to wipe the grin from his face once again as you tried to use your elbows to prop yourself up and get yourself into a halfway seated position resting on your palms. Well, you made it halfway from the elbow stance to the palms as your arms remembered they felt like jelly and gave up on you, leaving you plopping back onto the velvet cushions of the lounge with the back of your head. Silco watched this and chuckled. “Dear, don’t overestimate your strength. Give yourself a moment.” You didn’t want a moment. As you set to try your endeavours a second time, he suddenly bent back down over you, his arms resting on either side of your chest, face flush to yours. “I said, give it a moment,” he warned, voice low and dangerous again, a glint shimmering through his eyes. You shook your head and decided that if your arms could not support you to steady yourself, you might as well use them to pull him in.

Easier said than done, you lifted your arms and dropped them behind his neck, hands gripping the fabric of his vest on the shoulders. He let out another chuckle and shakes his head. “You won’t let go, hm?”, he cooed as he brought his face closer to yours. He hasn’t kissed you yet. You hadn’t dared to- this didn’t seem like a situation… You couldn’t finish your thought before his lips found yours, hungry, devouring you, tongue pushing its way into your mouth. He didn’t need to ask permission or wait, be gentle, or anything. And he knew. You moaned into the kiss as you felt his tongue twirling with yours, pushing hungrily into your mouth, determined to explore it in its entirety. Even though the kiss was drenched in desire and want, it almost felt a tinge gentle. You were sure you imagined that part. The knot in your stomach tightened at the feeling, itching to be released anew. “S-Silco… Please….”, was all you managed to pathetically wince out between kisses. He broke the kiss and leaned back a bit. There it was again, this grin. “What is it? Use your words, dear.” he spoke, voice dripping with sarcasm. You looked back up at him with the most longing and pathetic look you had in you and said “Please… Fuck me.”

That was all he needed, hands quick to unbutton his pants and sliding them down just enough to free the length of his hard cock that surely was similarly aching to be freed like the knot in your stomach. He was already dripping precum which made you a little proud of yourself, seeing that all this mess hadn’t just affected you. He was human after all. You didn't have a lot of time to revel in that thought though, as he quickly came back down towards you, tip of his cock hitting your aching clit. You winced and at this point, you didn’t care how you sounded anymore. “Please, please Silco”, all you could do was whimper his name in pleas to end your suffering and finally fuck you. He seemed to enjoy that most as he took his sweet time, dragging his tip through your folds, playing with your clit, lining himself up only to let it glide upwards between you again. You had enough. Determined you bucked your hips against him as he toyed with you once again, pulling him in just enough so his head was entering you.

He hissed, seemingly pissed off for just a second before the feeling of your cunt around him soothed all his anger and he couldn’t help but fully push himself inside you. You gasped, and let out an unholy animalistic noise as your hands tried to grasp onto the velvet of the lounge in support. That did it, the last part of resolve he had in him was crumbling at that unruly noise you just let out. He was relentless, quick-paced thrusts deep into you, losing himself in the way your walls clenched around him. Your hands, not finding any support with the lounge, latched onto his shoulders and dragged down his back, nails leaving marks in their wake. The noises he made were impossible to describe and even more impossible to endure. Your own were similarly unruly, you simply didn’t care anymore. There was no way you were withstanding this long, as you could feel your release inching closer and closer. He could feel it too, your walls clenching around him as he bottomed out into you, thrust after thrust, again and again. “S..Silco.. I’m.. I’m gonna..”, you tried your best to form any semblance of words as you felt yourself approaching the edge. One of his hands found your clit, fingers circling over it as he kept fucking you at a relentless pace. That did it and you felt yourself being thrown over the edge as the knot in your stomach exploded again making you clench uncontrollably around his cock. His breathing grew more ragged, thrusts sloppy and losing their rhythm as he fucked you through your high and chased his own. Just as he started to twitch he pulled out and spilt himself all over your stomach, panting heavily, letting out more of these groans and sounds that you would for sure hear in your head for days to come.

He remained hovering over you for a second, lazily stroking himself before getting up and grabbing a box of tissues off the nearby table. You thought he would take a few and toss you the box or something, but he cleaned himself up at the table, discarding the used tissues and heading back over to you with the rest. He sat down on the lounge in front of you, taking one tissue after the other, gently wiping his cum from your stomach and discarding the used tissues… well, into the general direction of the waste bin. You studied his face as he did so, usually furrowed brows relaxed and eyes steadily fixed on his task at hand. For how relentlessly he fucks, kills and acts otherwise he was being… gentle?

[happyfoolz]

unexpected. — #3. tiny server

a/n: i read that in korea you pay your check at the counter and tipping is not common, so that's what i went with btw!

warnings: sexual jokes (kinda), mentions (and a picture) of food, yn is still going through it

wc: 1.9k + sns

<- chapter two | masterlist | chapter four ->

You still can't believe it. 

What have you ever done to deserve this?

The image of Soobin leaving with that short-haired girl, with the most adorable smile plastered on his face and his ears slightly tinted red, still plagues your mind like a curse you can't escape from.

You should've known! The second Kai called and told you he was sick and wouldn't be able to make it to the restaurant tonight, you should've taken that as a clear sign from the universe that things were bound to blow up in your face. Why else would your sunshine friend be taken away from you on such a big night?

The worst part is how much effort you put into looking cute. Did you seriously put on the cutest dress you own just to watch as the love of your life slipped between your fingers? Did you really spend almost an hour on your hair and makeup just to be humiliated?

"Earth to Y/N!" Taehyun snaps his fingers in front of you as you stare into the void. "Look, I know things didn't work out the way you thought they would, but you seriously need to snap out of it."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you witnessed the love of your life leaving with the most gorgeous girl you've ever seen," you respond dramatically.

You can't even blame Soobin. Hell, even you would like to get her number and leave this place with her. The girl's stunning.

He stares blankly at you for a few seconds, his eyes not blinking at all, not knowing how to even react to that. After a moment of silence, he finally lets out the deepest of sighs.

"Okay," he grabs one of your hands gently, placing it between both of his, "look at me."

"What?" 

"You don't even know the guy. He's not the love of your life just because he's tall and handsome or whatever." He sounds like he's talking to a child, very patiently explaining something that seems obvious to everyone else but the kid — in this case, you.

"No, you don't get it!" You insist, pouting. "We had a connection!"

"Noona, I love you, you know I do, but you can't assume you're gonna end up with someone just because you dreamed about it once or twice," he sounds almost motherly. It would be funny, if you weren't the one being lectured now. "I dreamed I was dating Sabrina Carpenter the other night. Do you think it was because we're soulmates and we're bound to be together, or because you made me watch every single music video she has ever released in one sitting?" He raises an eyebrow at you. "We eat here every week, so you see him regularly, and obviously he's a good-looking dude, so it makes sense that you'd see him in your dreams. But do you even know anything about this man besides his name?"

You furrow your eyebrows, jutting out your lower lip even more. You know he's right, but you're too stubborn to admit it because you hate it.

Looking around, you can see the guy who hosted the quiz session eating something while two girls in medieval-looking dresses chat him up, a table of five people talking way too loudly, and a few couples at other tables, but most people have already left now that the "big event" is over.

And honestly, what a boring event it was. You didn't know what the hell anyone was talking about, everyone was too loud and overly excited for reasons you couldn't understand, Soobin was constantly in a hurry, and… well, here you are now while he's probably kissing his girl. 

And his girl is not you. 

"Yeah, whatever," you reluctantly give in, folding your arms.

"Good evening," a polite voice chips in, and Taehyun immediately lets go of your hand and leans back on his chair. "I'm Beomgyu! My colleague had to leave a little earlier due to a personal emergency, so I'll be your server for the rest of the night."

You look up at him, trying not to show that your life is currently in shambles.

It's the other waiter, the shortest one among the boys. His eyes are bigger, his brown hair is slightly longer and lighter than Soobin's, his shoulders are not as broad, you can't see any dimples on his cheeks, and his…

"Can I get you anything? Maybe some dessert?" He goes on, unknowingly snapping you out of your sad, pathetic daze.

"Actually, can we get some fries, please? To go, if that's alright," Taehyun answers. "I think we're ready to leave now, but our friend will start World War III if we don't bring her fries."

Beomgyu chuckles politely. "Of course! Anything else?"

"I'd like a shot of vodka," you say, staring into nothing once more, "or ten."

"Oh. Uh, well, the ba–" 

Taehyun clears his throat, interrupting the server.

"She'll have a can of Sprite, please. And a straw."

"But Tyun!" You whine, pouting once again.

"But Y/N!" Your friend mocks you. "You're driving tonight and I'm not about to die in a car crash because of you," he says, more seriously now. "Besides, you don't even like vodka."

"Ugh, fine. A Sprite for me while we wait for those fries, then, please…" You attempt to smile politely at the waiter.

He bites his lips and nods, writes down your order, and then smiles back at you.

"Alright, ma'am, I'll get that right away for you."

"Oh, please don't call me ma'am, it's been enough of a humiliating night for me."

"Um, sorry… Miss?"

You nod at him slowly. "Thank you."

Taehyun also smiles at the boy, but as soon as he's out of earshot, your friend goes back to telling you off.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N," he hisses, "vodka? Really?"

"This is the worst night of my life," you whine. "I deserve some alcohol."

"I can think of at least ten nights that were worse for you than this one," he argues — and, once again, he's right. "You'll survive."

"God, just let me be dramatic for once! Look at me!" Your hands gesture to your own body. "I got all dolled up! And for what?"

"Exactly! You look good as fuck! You shouldn't be suffering right now because of some random dude."

You grunt and support your chin on your palms, your elbows resting on the table. "I hate this."

Yet another sigh escapes from him, but he finally changes his tone back to a more understanding and loving one. "Alright, listen. Do you wanna cancel the sleepover with Chaewon?"

You stare up at him, speechless for a few seconds.

"No! Why would I–"

"Excuse me, sorry," Beomgyu's soft voice interrupts you, placing the can on the table. "Here's your Sprite, and here's your straw. Would you like a glass and some ice?"

"Oh, um– that's okay, I'll just use the straw. We'll probably be leaving before I finish this anyway."

"Alright! Your fries will be here in just a few minutes."

"Thank you, Beomgyu." You offer him another smile, and wait until he's far away before you continue your bickering with your best friend: "Why would I cancel the fucking sleepover? Do you want me to die?"

"Well, I don't know! Like you said, you got all dolled up. We could take you to a party where you can find a random hot stranger to hook up with or something," he states, while opening the can of soda for you. "I'm sure Chae wouldn't be against it, and this way your outfit wouldn't go to waste."

"I don't want a random hot stranger! I just want–“

"Hey, shush," he cuts you off, and it looks like he's about to laugh. "Unless you want all of his coworkers to know you want his dick."

You immediately slap the back of his head. How dare he say that? He winces, but ends up laughing while rubbing the spot you just hit.

"I don't want his dick, I want his heart," you speak almost in a whisper.

"Tomayto-tomahto." Taehyun shrugs and drinks a sip of your soda before giving it to you. 

"Shut up," you mutter, finally grabbing the Sprite. "I fucking hate you."

"I'm sure you do." He hands you the straw, and the smug smile on his face makes you roll your eyes before you take it.

"Hello again!" Beomgyu comes over one last time, just a few minutes after bringing your soda. "Here are your fries." He places a paper bag on the table. "Can I help you with anything else?"

"Oh, it's okay, we'll get going now," you tell him. "Thank you again."

"Alright, you guys have a good night, then!"

"You too." You smile politely at the boy.

After he leaves, you grab your stuff, get up, and follow your friend to the counter. You're about to grab your wallet when Taehyun gestures for you not to. Before you know it, he's already exchanging pleasantries with the cashier and swiping his card, although you agreed to pay for his stuff tonight. It's fine, though. You can always get him some snacks another time to make up for it.

After he's done paying, you text Chaewon to let her know you'll pick her up soon. She asks if you bought the fries she requested, and when you say yes, she just tells you to "hurry up then". 

However, before you reach the door, the server who replaced Soobin intercepts your path.

"Oh, hey, um–" He offers you another paper bag. "Here."

You knit your eyebrows in confusion and exchange a quick look with Taehyun before looking at the boy in front of you again, totally lost.

"Um," you lift the bag you're carrying, "you already g–"

"Oh! No, no. This is for you," he interrupts you to clarify what's happening. "Brownie bites, you know, from the dessert menu. On the house, I mean. Sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful or anything, it's just that you kinda look like you could use a little pick-me-up."

It takes you a beat to get it, but when you do, a smile creeps on your lips.

"Oh." You don't know why he's acting so sweet — do you really look that miserable? —, but the gesture brings you warmth after the bucket of ice-cold water Choi Soobin dumped on your head earlier. So, of course, you accept the little treat. You deserve it, don't you? "That's… very kind of you, actually. Thank you so much." Your voice sounds much sweeter now. "Have a great night, Beomgyu."

He nods, a timid smile appearing on his face. "You too."

As soon as you're out the door, Taehyun puts his hands in his pockets and laughs quietly.

"What is it now?" You bump your shoulder against his. "If you're laughing at how miserable I am right now I'll kill you, I swear."

"It's not that," he says. "But this is kinda funny."

"What's funny? There's not a single thing that happened tonight that was funny," you counter.

He shakes his head.

"Let's buy some ice cream on the way, I'm kinda craving it."

You sigh, but give up easily. "Yeah, okay." He's avoiding your question, but you're not gonna force him to answer it. "But I'm paying."

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