#enjoy the angst ig???

[noxx-33i]

I hope bogcom isnt tired of me posting art😞

i just

GET MY BRAIN

REALLY GOING

whenever i think ab phighting… my brain just come up with millions of ideas that i wanna draw 😭😭 also minor blood warning

[cj-the-random-artist]

Here's a Cult of the Lamb comic that I scripted on a whim and then spent. Actual time on.

I hope y'all like this cuz it was fun to make and. I spent actual time on it lmfao

(Also for the "brought Narinder back" line. I started a new save and I swear between my two saves he's died three times. This guy. Goodness gracious.)

[sharpilu]

it's like they don't even notice.

[thelonelyshore-if]

Ravi Drabble

Or, Ravi wakes up next to MC for the first time.

Ravi’s life is a tightrope act.

Every minute���every second–he stands balanced on the edge of a knife. His feet carefully placed on the wire, doing everything in his power to keep his balance. One misstep, one tiny mistake, could bring everything crashing down around him.

He doesn’t make mistakes.

Or at least, he didn’t. He’s careful. Precise. He’s memorized his script and performs it well. He knows his limits. Knows the rules. He bends them, sometimes, but never far enough to break. Why would he? Risking life and limb for such miniscule payoff would be unthinkable–would be pointless. Better to stay in the lines.

But it isn’t as easy anymore. Not now that he has something to lose. Now that he’s met you.

He supposes the first cracks began to show when he befriended Jay. That was mistake number one. He knows better than letting himself get close to people. And yet, when Jay showed up on his doorstep with a friendly smile and a host of questions about the recently deceased, Ravi couldn’t make himself turn them away. 

Befriending Jay led to befriending their family. Their mother, previously something like a colleague and held as far out as his hands could reach. Their sister, just a child, but so fearless and endearing that it was impossible to dislike her. And then, all of a sudden he’s socializing, interacting with the town in ways he hadn’t since…

And then you.

He still would have searched for you without Jay. He couldn’t avoid the feeling tugging at his wrists and ankles, the pulsating need behind his ribs. There was something it needed him to see. He had a feeling. But would he have been able to rush into the water and pull you to safety? Pump at your heart until it sprung back to life?

Ravi is a purveyor of death. The closest thing to the grim reaper made flesh that Easthaven has. He’s the undertaker, the shadow in the corner of your daughter’s funeral, the one who puts your father in the ground. 

What does he know about life?

Nothing, he thinks as he watches you.

He sits at the foot of his bed, his legs crossed neatly in front of him. You lay curled on your side, eyes fluttering and breath even. Moonlight halos you in a soft white haze. You look angelic–or perhaps magical. A being of pure light given form, sent to destroy him.

He sits in his tattered old EHS sweatshirt, one of the surviving relics of his time in school. Last night, when he asked you to stay, he knew he wasn’t ready to take it off. No matter what happened. He likes you–too much–but he can’t. Nobody has ever seen him laid bare, not since…

Not since he was hurt, since he lost–

Fuck.

He can’t think about it. Not with you here, blissful and unaware. It feels like a betrayal, though he isn’t sure who he’s betraying. You? Him? He’s gone, and you’re here, and it’s been so long anyway that he should be past it. Maybe he’s betraying you both.

Ravi knows he’ll have to tell you eventually. That’s what people in love do, isn’t it? Talk to each other? He isn’t sure he knows how. Honesty has never been his strong suit.

If befriending Jay was the first crack in his carefully crafted life, then meeting you was like taking a sledgehammer to it. He doesn’t understand what it is about you that drives him insane. You get under his skin without even meaning to. He wants to get under yours, in every possible way, and it’s making him crazy.

Before he met you he was frozen. Frozen in grief, frozen in ice. You lit a fire directly at his core, melting him until he’s nothing but a puddle on the floor. No–more than that. Steam in the air. You set him alight, make him burn.

Ravi sighs. He’s being melodramatic.

The problem is, he doesn’t know how to be reckless anymore. It’s a language half-forgotten, like his mother tongue. When you don’t have anyone who shares the language, it can be hard to remember. How do you practice? The loss is incredible.

You make him want to be reckless. So why not start now?

He moves quickly, half-crawling up the bed until he’s at your side. He slept here, arms around you, drinking in your warmth. He only pulled away when he woke up and realized he needed to think about this. To consider his actions going forward.

He’s sick of thinking. Instead he wraps his fingers around your hand, pulls it upwards. Kisses the flat of your palm. You’re so warm. So alive. You stir and he shifts downward until he’s pressing his lips to your wrist. He feels your pulse jump there and smiles.

“What’re you doing?” you murmur, staring at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Tasting you,” he teases, his tongue darting out to flick against the skin of your wrist.

You shiver, and his smile grows. He keeps kissing his way up your arm. Despite his teasing he doesn’t taste you again–instead he focuses on memorizing every part of you. You shift beneath him until you’re on your back. Perfect–he adjusts until he’s straddling you. 

Ravi kisses the curve of your elbow, the edge of your shoulder. Finds the place where your neck connects and buries his face inside. He could live here, he thinks. You’re warm and solid and alive. The most alive anyone has ever been.

He kisses your neck and your breath catches. 

He pulls back until he’s nearly sitting upright, his weight on his knees to either side of you. Your hands find his thighs and fuck it feels good. He isn’t used to being touched and the feeling of it might drive him mad. 

Maybe you were sent to destroy him. He isn’t sure he cares.

“You look beautiful,” Ravi whispers, before swooping down again to press his lips against yours.

The kiss starts gentle. Almost chaste. He just wants to feel you, nothing more, but then your arms are around his neck. You pull closer, press harder against him, and he can’t resist kissing you deeper. It goes until you break away gasping.

Ravi lets himself fall to the side until he’s lying on his back beside you. He needs to catch his breath. He needs a cigarette. His hands shake as he stares up at the ceiling, in wonder of you at his side. 

You nestle in close and he wraps an arm around you. His eyes flutter shut when you lean up and press a kiss against his neck. Emotion coils up in his chest, so intense he can hardly take it. There’s so much feeling that it hurts. He isn’t used to feeling things. Not like this. 

This might be a mistake. Getting close to people always is. But…

He thinks you might be worth it.

[robo-milky]

OC x Canon Week Day 4: “Why are you angry with me? You broke my heart!!!”

Note: Epel doesn’t care (nor does the rest of the cast) that Cloche is a gal but more so upset that Cloche deliberately kept the charades up until absolutely necessary, leading him on about their camaraderie of them being two small dudes wanting to be “manlier”.

First dialogue prompt !! Really wanted to include some lore bits here, and I reached with trying to make the dialogue work. While I don’t see Epel as someone who’d directly say something like “You broke my heart”, he did have the energy/vibe of it. Nice to add a little angst to shake things up.

[silverware-and-ceremics]

sonic and shadow live in the green hills area for a decent ammount of time after their marriage, then they leave and travel the world together, running through fields and woods, beach horizons and mountain peaks. no one knows where they are ever, they keep in touch obviously, but rarely do any of their friends see them after they leave

everyone knows about sonic and shadows wereabouts, if you dont youre missing out!

after literal decades of traveling over all types of land, sonic(whos old as shit by now) and shadow(looks old asf, he'll regen soon dw) finally go back to their true home in green hills, seeing all their friends again after decades of just short visits and constant calls.

and then after their friends start to slowly creep to their last years sonic and shadow start looking for a more secluded area to live, obviously they spend all their friends last moments with them. but once they all pass, sonic and shadow leave to live on a little mountain side in a cute little cabin, its eclectake and crazy looking, but its home<3

shadow continues to grow old looking, and then regenerate(basically just shed the old lookin crap) while sonic becomes more grey and old. though he lives far longer than any of his other friends, hes not immortal. he passes while with shadow sitting on a bench under their apple tree. his head on shadows shoulder looking over their gorgeous view of the mountain range theyve called home for over 40 years.

shadow doesnt realize at first, but once he does he just cries, hes glad he was with sonic in his last moments, but the heart will always break no matter how calm the last moments might be. sonic is burried under the apple tree.

shadow gets inspired after his husbands passing to become a kinder soul, though he never leaves his mountain range so he becomes a secluded man, he farms his own crops and makes his own meals, only going out of town to get chilli ans hot dogs for his weekly chilli dog while he sits alone at his small circle dining table, looking at his photo of his dear husband, from basically a millenia ago.

[uzi-x33]

“ an old friend. ”

short one-shot bc i’m missing odasaku like an mf rn and i need odango angst. Idk the time frame of this i was bored <3

Post oda’s death. The anniversary of it. Dazai was slumped over at the Lupin bar. Poking at the circular ice cube in his glass. A tall black haired man walks in, tears staining his eyes. this has happened before, this exact same interaction, conversation. Dazai speaks up. “You loved him, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t bother to look over. Ango’s sniffles are enough. “You know, I did too, Ango.” The brown haired man looks up at the older. “Probably not in the same way you did. Hell, I’ll probably never know him the same way you did, and i’m thankful for that. What you two had was… special.”

The older man sits down, still silent. He orders a whiskey on the rocks. Oda’s favorite. Only then does he speak. “To answer your question, yes, Dazai. I was in love with him.” Dazai smiles. It’s a sad smile, a far off one. They sit and drink for the rest of the night. Around 12:30 a motorcycle can be faintly heard outside of the bar. Dazai gets a text.

“Well, that’s my ride, do you want me to.. call you an uber or something..?” Dazai offers, sliding some bills on the table and shoving his hands in his pockets. “No, I think I’ll stay here a bit longer.” Ango answers, waving over the bartender for another glass.

Dazai sighs, and heads out.

[fbfh]

whoever sent me an ask probably years ago at this point asking if I'm into DC (specifically Jason Todd) congratulations your manifestation subliminals are working!! also a PHAT shout out to janitor ai's lovely creator jellboop for sucking me into the delicious hell of Jason Todd and his meaty meaty thighs.

so yeah it's happening. we're at a point where I'm making self ship fanart with this bitch so lemme spill some thoughts because apparently I'm writing for Jason Todd now.

the first thing that comes to mind when I think of Jason Todd is that clip from isle of dogs, my friends think I like to fight. Sometimes I lose my temper and blow off a little steam, but... I never liked it. I'm not a violent dog. I don't know why I bite. so you can tell what kind of start we're off to to begin with. also take this with a bitty grain of salt, I don't claim to be an expert in DC canon/lore so disregard anything if I get it wrong lol. anyway Jason is the definition of GODDAMN YOU'VE BEEN THROUGH THE WRINGER HUH?? CAN'T CATCH A BREAK OR PROCESS YOUR FEELINGS WITHOUT FEELING LIKE YOU'RE DROWNING LOOKIN ASS. right off the bat (pun intended) we have his childhood which is already deeply fucked up. bitch was STEALING TIRES OFF CARS to support his DRUG ADDICT MOTHER. first of all this bitch has been parentified and neglected since birth. he is a provider deep into his bones, yes, but at what fucking cost???? also deep and severe mommy AND daddy issues this early on in the game. wow. after that he gets caught JACKING THE TIRES OFF THE GODDAMN BATMANMOBILE BY B*UCE W*YNE HIMSELF. now he's gone from robbin' to robbin. from robbing to robbin-ing. he's in his rockin robin era. he's having a ball as far as I'm aware. he's in a mansion with all the food he can eat and psychological security he could ask for, he sort of has a dad, a sort of grandpa, AND a sort of brother. AND his brother's name is literally Dick, which is a GOLDMINE for any younger sibling. and I think he liked it. being the youngest. I think he liked being treated like a kid, and found a deep and sorely needed respite from the world when he was suddenly being babied by three adults (or almost adults depending on how old Dick was at the time.) and I know that even though he fought it and he acted like he hated it, being babied started to really heal something inside him. it wasn't easy or comfortable, and it was slow going, but... things were okay. consistently okay, which was the freakiest part. the consistency. I don't think he would have really had much time for girls or dating, especially with knowing that the stability of his life depends on the stability of Bruce's position as batman. I think especially seeing how many women try to seduce information out of Bruce and Dick he would immediately corollate love and sex with power and control and manipulation. and I think that Dick and Bruce and Alfred would have no fucking clue just how deeply that distrust of vulnerability is starting to run inside him. one training session leads to another, one call from the police leads to another, one tip from their hotlines and informants leads to another until all the jobs start to look thrillingly blurry.

then he's tied up in a warehouse while a grown man beats his still ambiguously teenage year old self to death.

again, I know there's continuity errors in some places and different versions of the story in others so bear with me here. I could go into detail about how he probably kept telling himself it's almost over, this is what heroes do, he'll be here any minute, any minute while getting viciously crowbar beaten and possibly bombed until he literally died, I could talk about how the damage to his face and teeth were so severe they couldn't be shown to identify his body, I could go into detail about the devastating silence that followed the two sentence exchange between Bruce and Alfred "Shall I place a call to his next of kin on his behalf, sir?" "Don't bother. There's no one to call." or how Dick screamed so loudly you could hear it all throughout the manor. I could. But for everyone's wellbeing I will not do that.

anyway AFTER getting viciously stick beaten by park moms, the next thing Jason knows he's being dragged out of some disgusting bubbling magical pit or clawing his way out of his own grave like he's Eric fucking Draven. time is... fuzzy after his resurrection. it takes a while for his short term memory to come back online, and even longer for his long term memory. so he spends weeks, months, who knows how long stumbling around like a disoriented, confused monster out of a Mary Shelley novel. when he starts to settle back into himself, when he starts to get his footing a little, he feels like a child again. lost and confused and just trying desperately to survive and seek out safety anywhere he can. but he knows there is none. if batman of all people couldn't protect him, his sidekick, his ward from... whatever the hell his mind has fought so hard to block out, than nothing can. no one can. except him. unfortunately the lazarus pit or the superboy prime punch or whatever lore you wanna go with worked a little TOO well, and Jason has now been hit by the puberty fairy hard. repeatedly. with a crowbar. and a bomb. he was still gangly and awkward when he died, pretty strong in a lean way (mostly because Dick made him do pilates and acro to get flexible which failed spectacularly but was hilarious). For the first time that he could remember, he even had a little puppy fat. most teenage boys would roll their eyes at anything standing between them and a six pack - if they even cared enough about their body to think that far - but Jason... Jason loved his little pudge that he'd gotten as Robin. he loved the softness that filled out his cheeks, that made him feel less boney.

but that's gone now too.

it takes him a while to realize he's not bumping into things because he's still clumsy and disoriented. it's because he went from concerningly short and scrawny (I've seen sources say 4'6 and 80 something pounds) to at least 6'0 and 225lbs of pure raw rippling muscle. he's sharp and jagged again, but it's different this time. this time he's at least strong, too. and truly that knowledge, that at least he's stronger now, is the only thing keeping him from crashing the fuck out more than he did for a long time.

he feels like his body will never quite fit him right. the little scars and cigarette burns he's had since he was a kid are all stretched out and distorted now, like a piece of bubble gum getting thinner and more see through the bigger the bubble gets. and there are the new scars, too. the little dents across his face or pearly little seams the pit couldn't get rid of completely. there are tiny textured burn marks across his forearms, a memento of the moments where he used all the strength he didn't have to try and shield himself from the blast. and of course, there's the autopsy scar. it's the biggest one, a giant jagged Y shape that goes from his collar bones all the way down his torso and stops right above his hips. it's an angry reddish purple and raw and surprisingly fresh. even if he didn't have it, he'd still feel it. every breath, he feels the seams inside himself where the pit regrew his sternum, where his organs regrew or were reattached. he traces his fingers on the stretch marks slowly fading from red to pink to a pearly white all over his shoulders and arms and thighs, trying to make sense of it all. he feels too old and too young, like an adult trapped inside a child walking around in a body builder's skin. and it's scary. it's disorienting. it makes it hard to breathe if he thinks about it too much or too long. when he first saw the shimmering strands of grayish white streaking though a front lock of his hair, he thought for a moment the pit did its job TOO well, that it aged him too much too fast, that he'd start withering away just as quickly like rip van winkle. but no. Talia or Ra's or whoever's looking after him at that point (if anyone is) explains it's just the stress of resurrection.

and now he lies awake day and night, trying to reconcile his past with what he knows now. how did they not look for him? how is the bastard that did this to him still running free when the only thing that kept him clinging to life was thinking about how Bruce would decimate the Joker's ass the moment he stormed into that warehouse? how is he alive? why is he alive? why did any of this happen in the first place? he rots and spirals until he gets sick of it. until he tells himself how fucking pathetic he sounds. so he decides to take matters into his own hands. his bloody, too big too strong hands that once shook from adrenaline now tremble from rage. he is going to kill the Joker. and he is going to protect people. he'll do it. the dirty work Bruce could never stomach. he won't turn a blind eye to bad shit because of some soulless ethical bullshit, like- he bites his cheek, not even wanting to think their names. not yet, not when it's still so painful. he needed him. he needed Bruce, and he wasn't there. because Bruce doesn't get it. he doesn't get Jason, and he never will. he's off in his little bubble with his money and charity galas and brooding one liners that look so great in the papers.

let him stay in the papers, stay in the spotlight. Jason will do the heavy lifting. Street justice needs to be served. and who more perfectly equipped to serve it than someone from the streets?

[holysheithyall]

little menace <33

[regheart]

i keep trying to make a list of my favorite characters from harry potter, but i can't even decide on a criteria myself

i always tell people (non-fandom people, that is) that my favorites are either professor lupin or ginny, because it is easier than explaining my obsession with sirius black's brother who lived and died out of page

the top 3 that i have on the desktop version of the blog is my marauders era top 3: remus, lily and regulus. they are the ones i usually want to read and write about, i love to decipher small details about them and twist and stretch possibilities of who they might have been. i want to build entire AUs about them

and i love remus as the character he is on page, through harry's eyes. missing moments about him and tonks, or sirius, or hermione, or harry are some of my favorites to read

from the main era i love harry, obviously, and he's probably the character i love the most as he is on the page. i tend to be picky about the fanfiction i read with him. i care about him a lot and i want him to happy so most of the times i read "fix-it" fics with him being raised in a loving household (and i abandon all pretense at canon compliance lol) or post-war healing and rom coms or him learning more about his parents (which is probably the origin of my interest in marauders fics tbh). i read a lot of gen fics with him, love harry & sirius, harry & ron & hermione, harry & dudley, harry & snape, and for shipping it's usually ginny, draco or neville

then my other two favorites are ginny and neville, individually and with each other, i love their friendship and i don't mind them as a weird couple. i wish i had a thousand fics more focused on their experience of war and their processes of healing, they are so dear to me and have always been

i love the gryffindors in general and i have a special attachment to parvati and dean. i'm always trying to read more fics centering them or having them in more prominent roles. also lover oliver wood and my favorite weasley, percy, individually and as couple, i'd read a perciver anywhere, anytime

this is perhaps my most controversial fave (or is it reggie?) but dumbledore has always had and will forever have a very special place in my heart. he could be the worst person in the series (he isn't) and i would still love the whimsy diva of a war general. i need to read more with him. i refuse to watch or even learn about fantastic beasts

other than that i love the black family and i have an unreasonable affinity for narcissa out of everyone. i like alphard when he's an old queen. i'd eat up any sincere approach to orion and walburga. i think phineas is criminally underrated

the first war is arguably my favorite period and i'm interested in everything from that time. i'd read anything with moody, he's a rockstar and one my favorites as well. i like frank and alice and think they should be the protagonists more often. i'd read any interesting premise involving the order, but i tend towards my girls dorcas, marlene and emmeline. i unironically think mulciber and evan rosier are interesting. i love to hate crouch sr. and jr.

and you can't read the books without loving voldemort, i'm sorry, i don't make the rules and it's not my fault he has so much juice

so if i had to make list 1) remus 2) lily 3) harry 4) regulus 5) ginny 6) neville 7) dumbledore 8) percy 9) moody 10) voldemort (then it's narcissa, parvati, ron&hermione, etc) (OH GOD AND TONKS TOO)

[b3an0]

Have this while I work on this amv

Hope y’all enjoy angst btw ;)

[heart-of-roses-and-quartz]

Feelings? Ew.

Shilou tries to run from his feelings.

His feelings catch up.

It all started the day after he'd met Aventurine.

He wasn't even sure of how it all started; he injected himself into a conversation about cat cakes and asked him to keep them away from him—damn his allergies—to which Aventurine apologized for.

'Why is he apologizing to me?'

Within the next few days, Aventurine found his way to his office and gifted him a cat cake plush, decorated to look exactly like him.

He took care not to snag any part of it on his joints as he examined it, his eyes welling with-

'What? Why am I...'

And after that day, Aventurine found any opportunity he could to be around him.

"Mr. Rose Quartz! There you are~"

"Rose Quartz, good to see you~"

"Good morning, Rosie~"

At first, he took it in stride. It was only silly nicknames, possibly infatuation with his robotic limbs—he was more than used to that—so he thought nothing of it.

Until he started inviting him out.

It started small. Inviting him out to dinner, to go to the casino just for fun, to hang out together while on a mission, "Just for a little while! You've gotta learn to relax, Rosie~"

He was wary. Of course he was, Aventurine was his superior, why wouldn't he be wary?

Was he trying to get under his skin?

Trying to butter him up?

So he could use him and then discard him?

He tried to keep his distance, he really did.

But those eyes of his...

And it didn't help that Dr. Ratio accompanied them practically everywhere they went.

He was always there, following close behind Aventurine with a constant displeased look—when he didn't have his bust on—and making small, snide remarks every so often towards him.

He didn't like him at first.

But as more time passed, more days he dragged himself along on their adventures, Ratio grew on him.

The way his eyes softened when Aventurine did something slightly stupid, the adorable smile that graced his face from time to time, looking at Aventurine.

Oh, and Aventurine...

His eyes practically commanded his attention, drawn to them every time we was around him. They were so unique, so pretty—so unlike his own.

He was so unique, so—

Oh.

Oh no.

He couldn't be.

He blinked, and suddenly realized.

"Am I...catching feelings?"

That wouldn't do.

He began avoiding Aventurine and Ratio like the plague. He almost ran the other way when Aventurine was nearby, refusing to make eye contact with him.

He couldn't risk being pulled into the enchanting siren song of his eyes.

He avoided his messages from Aventurine, didn't pick up any calls, despite his heart hammering in his chest every time he saw Aventurine's contact light up his screen.

He couldn't risk it.

He couldn't risk contact with Ratio, either. He was equally as beautiful as Aventurine, that dammned smile of his captivating him to no end.

This went on for only another week before Aventurine finally cornered him, Ratio not far behind, and started asking questions.

"Rose Quartz, what's the matter? Why have you been ignoring us?"

"Is everything alright?"

"Please, talk to us."

"Rose Quartz?"

"Rosie?"

He kept his head down, not looking at them. He couldn't, he couldn't risk it. If he looked into Aventurine's eyes, saw Ratio's smile, saw them- he'd be done for, he'd—

"Rose," Aventurine spoke softly, calmly, as if he wasn't speaking to Rose Quartz. As if he was speaking to... "Please. Is everything okay?"

He came closer, gently cupping his head in his hands, lifting him up to look at—

He was gone almost immediately.

The second they locked eyes, Shilou's fate was sealed. His face went red, fingers twitching. He wanted to grab onto him, pull him closer and yet push him away, kiss him and yet slap him, hold him close–

"I-I love you," He mumbled almost immediately, not even recognizing his own voice for a moment. "I– I love you. Both of you. And I'm scared."

Aventurine blinked, looking back at Ratio for a moment.

He—for once in his life—looked dumbfounded.

Aventurine looked back at Shilou, tears threatening to spill over—and ruin his makeup, he spent hours fixing it this morning—and gave him a soft smile, rubbing his cheekbones with his thumb.

"Is that all?" He asked, almost amused. "We thought there was something really wrong..."

He stayed silent, trying to will the tears away. He couldn't cry, not only would it ruin his perfect makeup, but he would be crying in front of his superior, it would make him seem weak—

Aventurine pulled him into a hug, and the dam broke.

Carefully, he wrapped his arms around Aventurine's, digging his fingers into his back as he silently cried, mumbling apologies for staining his jacket with his tears.

Aventurine shushed him, only hugging him tighter. He looked back at Ratio and gave a small nod and smile, to which he smiled back and approached, enveloping Shilou in a hug from behind.

It was so warm.

It was the best feeling in the world—which, to him, was confined to just the three of them in that moment—and he reveled in every second of it, despite the tears that stained Aventurine's jacket.

He'd never felt so loved.

And he wanted to keep it that way.

@serendipminie

thought you would wanna see it hehe :33

[dead-dove-orchid]

🍃

[quinn-pop]

got bored and put up an abandoned animatic :’)

[reviiely]

I just finished my bio assignment and now you all shall be subjected to its utter bullshittery in all of its glory.

Music credit to: Yuh Baek I found this music on yt :p

[tinyevilgremlin]

what bogeol is doing now(episode 8) feels reminiscent of young kiho trying to fight off mokha's dad. he tried to face him on his own without letting her know, the same way bogeol's keeping everyone in the dark (so far, at least) about making contact with dad in the present.

and i have a feeling it's not going to end well, just like last time, and the father will catch up with the family anyway. it was just a matter of time, regardless of whether kiho met him or not, bc he already seems to have located their salon- it's also only a matter of time before he decides to show up there in person. but things have to be different this time--- because kiho is not alone like he was on chunsam, and i'm praying to god that woohak and his job as an investigative reporter is gonna play a major part in putting their biological dad behind bars (by using the daewoong accident..?), and then they live happily ever after, the end.